Sophia touched off the ash in her cigarette. Her mind was active. She let Jay talk, but she was only half concentrating on what she was saying. He was trying to excuse himself. Before long, they would come to the dead girl. It didn’t matter to her why he had done it. What did matter to her was what would happen once the news broke. Jay was Floyd’s son. The thought of the publicity, the scandal, the horror of the newspaper men, the effect on Floyd’s film, the resurrection of Harriett’s suicide, the trial, the pity of their friends and the frightful newspaper headlines that would go on and on and on made her blood run cold.
“I tried Russian roulette,” Jay was saying. “Do you know what that is? You put a cartridge in the cylinder of a revolver, spin the cylinder so you don’t know if the cartridge is or is not under the firing pin, then you put the gun to your head and pull the trigger. But it is a gambler’s risk and although it provided intense excitement at the first attempt, I realized it wasn’t the kind of risk I was looking for. If I was to risk my life, I wanted to be sure that it wouldn’t be blind chance but my own planning, my own wits, my own intelligence I had to rely on. That brought me to murder. I have thought of murdering someone now for quite some time. This afternoon I decided to do it.” He was leaning forward now, his face tense. “I saw this girl. It was easy enough to persuade her to come up here; as easy to kill her. She was so pathetically unsuspecting. Of course I could have arranged it differently. I could have made it much safer and easier for myself, but I didn’t want that. I wanted a genuine risk. It seemed to me that to be landed with a dead body in this hotel would test my inventiveness to the limit. I made no plans. Even now, I don’t know what I am going to do with the body.” He ran his fingers through his hair as he continued to stare at Sophia. “I didn’t anticipate that you would be so clever, Sophia. I didn’t include you in my plan. Just what are you going to do about this thing?”
Just what was she going to do about it? Sophia asked herself. Tell Floyd? Call the police? Deliberately cut her own social throat?
Once the news hit the headlines, there would be no more dinners at the White House, no more exciting evening parties in London when it was possible that members of the royal family might look in on an unofficial visit, no longer would the rich hostesses in New York fight among themselves for the privilege of having the Delaneys on their dinner list. And Floyd? He had sunk millions in this film of his. Could the film be shown while his son was standing trial for murder?
She knew it would be fatal to confide in Floyd. His reaction would be unthinking and instinctively correct. He would call the police and hand his son over to them without hesitation. She loved and admired Floyd. He always did the right thing, but this thing couldn’t be handled like that. This was something special. A wrong move could ruin their future and she was very conscious that, at this moment, she held the destinies of Floyd, herself and this insane boy in her capable, shrewd hands.
She hedged a little because she wanted more time to think about this thing.
“What do you expect me to do?” she asked.
“Tell father,” Jay said.
“If I told him, you know what he would do.”
“Yes, I know. He would call the police.”
She looked at her wrist-watch. The time was twenty-five minutes to ten. The movie would be running now and Floyd would be wondering where she was.
“I want to think about it, Jay. I can’t keep your father waiting any longer. It’s a thing one can’t make a decision about in a moment. You’re not the only one involved. There’s your father and myself.”
Jay took his dark glasses from his pocket and put them on. She became immediately alert. She felt that this action of his was a declaration of war.
“There isn’t much time,” he said.
“I’ll come to your room after dinner,” Sophia said. “I’ll have decided by then.”
Half smiling, Jay slid out of his chair, moved quickly to the door, turned the key, took the key from the lock and dropped it into his pocket. He leaned against the door and looked across the room at her.
“I’m sorry, Sophia,” he said, his voice gentle, “but I can’t leave the decision to you. Unless you are prepared to be co-operative, I shall have to make my own arrangements.”
“Is that a threat, Jay?” Sophia asked, a little surprised that she wasn’t more frightened.
“I’m afraid it is,” he said apologetically. “This is very important to me. I can’t have you spoiling it.”
Sophia crossed her long, shapely legs.
“But wouldn’t you be in difficulties if you had two bodies on your hands?” she said.
“Of course, that is why I hope you will be co-operative.”
“What do you expect me to do, then?”
He moved back to his chair.
“It’s to your advantage and father’s advantage too if I get away with this. I think I can get away with it. If you tell father, he will rush off to the police. If you say nothing, there is a reasonable chance that no one will ever find out what I have done, so I’m asking you not to say anything.”
Sophia didn’t hesitate. What Jay had said was true. If she told Floyd, the horrible thing would be newspaper headlines within hours.
“All right, Jay. I won’t say anything. I give you my word.”
He nodded.
“I shall have to trust you, but I think you are clever enough to see that it won’t help any of us if I am caught.”
“You can trust me.” Sophia lit another cigarette. “But what are you going to do with the — the body?”
“I thought I’d put it in a trunk and leave it somewhere,” Jay said. “I haven’t really got down to making a plan.”
“The trunk would be traced to you,” Sophia said. “Besides, you couldn’t handle it yourself. No, that’s not a safe idea.”
“Perhaps you can suggest a better one?” Jay said, watching her.
“When you brought her up here, someone must have seen you.”
“Oh, no. We came up separately. It was around four o’clock. There was no one up here.”
“But you can’t be sure she wasn’t seen. She may have told someone she was coming here.”
“No, she didn’t. I warned her not to tell anyone. No one knows she came here. I’m sure of that.”
“What makes you think you won’t be found out? The police are clever. When her body is discovered, there will be an investigation. You may have left clues. Murderers always do.”
Jay put his head on one side. He was enjoying this. Sophia was showing unexpected intelligence and interest. He was surprised that she was taking this so calmly. It was as if she were dissecting the plot of a movie. He had often listened to her discussing movie plots with his father and he had been impressed by her shrewdness and her quick fault-finding.
“I don’t think I have left any clues,” he said, “but that’s part of the risk. It’s my wits against theirs. The one thing that helps the police more than anything is the motive. There is no motive to this murder. If I can get rid of the body, I should be safe.”
“I hope so.” Sophia glanced at her watch. “I think I should join your father now.”
Jay nodded.
“I’ll come too. Will you wait a moment while I change?”
“All right.”
He put the key of the door on the table.
“I won’t be a few minutes. I’m trusting you, Sophia.”
She watched him go into his bedroom and close the door, then she picked up the key.
At this moment the reaction hit her and she suddenly felt faint and sick. She fought down her faintness, and, making an effort, she got up, crossed over to the liquor cabinet and poured out a stiff shot of brandy. She drank it and then moved to the open window.