She stared down at him for a long time, savouring the joy of finding him dead, then moving up to him, she had spat in his dead, snarling face and had left, happy to realize she was on her own, that she had now only herself to think of and the bite of the strap into her flesh was now a thing of the past.
Even in rags and under a coat of grime, Sophia had been a beautiful child. It was not long before she attracted the attention of a man who called himself Giuseppe Francini, a pimp, who worked the cafés in the festering alleys off the Via Roma. He saw her possibilities, took charge of her, dressed her, found her a reasonably clean room and launched her on the career of a prostitute: all this before she had reached the age of fifteen.
Realizing the money that could be made from this profession, Sophia had entered into her new career with an enthusiasm that astonished and delighted Francini. He quickly realized that he was wasting her talents by allowing her to work the low class cafés. He arranged with a friend of his to share the expense of sending her to Rome and renting an apartment there for her.
By the time she reached the age of seventeen, Sophia was a highly successful prostitute. She had shaken off Francini, had taken a luxury apartment in the fashionable quarter of Rome, she was making a substantial income, owned an Alfa — Romeo car and had a wardrobe full of expensive, fashionable clothes that included a mink stole.
A few months after her seventeenth birthday she met Hamish Wardell, a movie director on vacation from Hollywood. Wardell, impressed by her beauty and her enthusiastic lovemaking, took her back to Hollywood with him and arranged for her to have a small part in the movie he was making.
Sophia made an immediate hit in the movie. Her beauty, her strident sex appeal, wiped all the other actresses and actors out of the picture. She made such an impact on the public that she was immediately signed up on a six-figure salary to do three movies and an increase on a further three.
From then on, money flowed unceasingly into her various bank accounts, the public’s adoration was hers and the horror of her childhood and the memories of the brutalities of her past clients when she had been walking the streets of Rome became a blurred memory.
She had met Floyd Delaney when she was twenty-four. He had fallen in love with her and they had married within six months of their first meeting.
She was now the wife of one of the richest and most powerful men in Hollywood. She had everything she could wish for. Her position in life was secure and security to Sophia was her most important possession, next to life itself.
She sat on the settee in the lounge, her knees pressed tightly together, her hands in fists as she stared at Jay who sat opposite her, his face set and pale, a muscle close to his right eye twitching.
She had no doubt that he had murdered this girl and she realized this mad act had jeopardized her own position.
If ever this thing hit the headlines of the world’s newspapers, the security and her position she had suffered so much to gain would go.
She was now recovering from the shock of seeing the girl’s body falling at her feet. The fibre in her was tough and after the initial shock of horror, she was now able to cope with the situation. Her mind was already searching for a way out. She had no intention of weakly surrendering to the situation, but before she could decide what she could do, she had to know all the facts.
“She was Lucille Balu?” she asked, staring at Jay.
“Yes.”
He too was recovering from the horrible moment when he had seen the doors of the cupboard slowly opening. His mouth was dry as he wondered what Sophia was planning to do. He was surprised that her nerves were obviously stronger than his.
“And you killed her?” Sophia said, her hands turning into fists.
“It was an accident,” Jay said and forced his lips into a tight, meaningless smile.
“How — an accident?”
The tip of his tongue moved over his lips as he hesitated, then he said, “What I told you was the truth. When I saw her in this room I knew I had made a mistake. I suppose I was tactless. I told her to get out. She became angry. She threatened to scream. I was frightened someone would hear her. I put my hand over her mouth. There was a struggle. She was stronger than I imagined. I... I must have used more force than I realized. Suddenly she went limp. I thought she had fainted. When I tried to revive her, I found she was dead.”
Watching him and listening to the flat tone of his voice, Sophia knew he was lying. She recalled the picture of him threatening her as he moved across the room, the scarlet curtain cord in his hands and she knew the girl had been deliberately strangled.
She studied him.
The dark screens of his glasses covering his eyes gave him a protective camouflage.
“Take those glasses off,” she said.
He stiffened and frowned. His hand went to his glasses, hesitated and then he took them off.
His pale, washed-out blue eyes with their lost, furtive expression gave her confidence. They told her he was more frightened and shocked than she was.
“You’re lying,” she said. “You deliberately brought her up here and killed her. You killed her with the curtain cord.”
Jay’s eyes went completely blank. They looked like the eyes of a blind man. Then his lips curled upwards and he made a little choking sound as if he were suppressing a giggle.
“You are quite right,” he said. “You’re much cleverer than I had imagined. Yes, of course. It wasn’t an accident.”
Sophia drew in a deep breath and got to her feet. She crossed the room and took a cigarette from the box that stood on the table. As she lit it she noticed her hands were quite steady and that surprised her.
She now had no doubt that the boy was insane. She had always suspected that he had inherited his mother’s mental instability. She was alone with him in this room. Was she in any kind of danger? Would he suddenly turn on her? She would have to be careful not to antagonize him.
She moved back to her chair and sat down.
“Why did you do it?” she asked, her voice gentle.
He looked sharply at her, reacting to the sympathetic note in her voice.
“Why did I do it?” he repeated and he slid further down in his chair. “Because I was bored, Sophia. You wouldn’t know what real boredom means. You wouldn’t know what it means to be always playing third fiddle: not even second fiddle. I’ve been unwanted ever since I was born. My mother hated me. Father has always regarded me as a nuisance. All my life I have been farmed out to please him or my mother or his second wife or whenever I happened to be in the way.”
Sophia nodded.
“Yes, I know. I had a rotten childhood myself. That’s why I’ve always tried to make you feel you are wanted and that you’re not in the way. Don’t think I don’t understand. I do. Your life hasn’t been much fun.”
Jay’s eyes lit up. He suddenly looked very young and eager.
“I’ve always admired you, Sophia. You are the only one who has come within any distance of understanding me, but your kindness has come a little late. Twenty years of playing third fiddle isn’t very exciting.” He leaned forward, staring at her. “Being pushed aside, unwanted and only trotted out to be shown off when it was convenient isn’t very exciting either. For years now I have searched for something in life that really means something. I have come to the conclusion that taking risks is more important than anything else in life. At first I thought that risking my freedom would be enough. When I was at school I became a burglar.” His pale lips moved into his boyish smile. “I didn’t steal anything. I broke into houses and crept into people’s bedrooms. That was quite exciting, to sit by their bedsides watching them sleep, not knowing if they would suddenly wake up and catch me. But after a time I got bored with that. I realized I didn’t put enough value on my freedom to care if I were caught or not. After a lot of thought, I decided the one thing that was irreplaceable and of most value to me was my life.”