“But not well enough.” I tried not to move my voice-box as I spoke. That damn stiletto was too hellishly close!
“Still, you have a natural affinity for the sport. By the way, how did you like the Porsche? Wonderful car, isn’t it?”
“Great.”
“Yes. So easy to keep your R’s up when you’re driving it, isn’t it? R’s means rpm’s, the revolutions per minute of the motor,” he explained to his companion. “Vito here doesn’t appreciate the fine points of sports cars,” he told me. “He is a Philistine. The mystique is beyond him. But not you, Signor Victor. You know how an enthusiast should handle a car.”
“Sure,” I replied. “Simple. Up your R’s, Tortorizzi!” But my heart wasn’t in it. Not with that dagger nibbling at my throat!
“On the contrary, Signor Victor.” Luigi chuckled to show he’d caught it. “Up your R’s.” His second chuckle was even nastier. “Si, Signor Victor. I have the knife. So—up your R’s!”
I had the decided feeling that he was trying to tell me something!
CHAPTER FIVE
“ENOUIGH NONSENSE!” The man Luigi had called Vito was growing impatient. “Let us get on with it before the stewardess returns.”
“Get on with what?” I asked nervously. Very much aware of that knife still nuzzling my throat, I had a premonition of the answer.
The premonition was quite accurate. “Why, with your death, of course, Signor Victor,” Luigi told me, as if surprised at my naiveté.
“Let’s not be hasty,” I urged him. “Don’t you think we should talk this over first?”
“As stimulating as I find your conversation, Signor Victor, I’m afraid not. Vito is right. We simply don’t have the time. I am genuinely sorry.”
“You’re sorry!” My voice cracked. “How do you think I feel?”
“Now, I do hope you’re not going to get hysterical.” Luigi’s voice was disapproving. “After all, you are a grown man. And accepting the fact of death is the cardinal proof of maturity.”
“In moments of stress, I tend to regress,” I apologized. “I’ve been trying to work it through with my analyst, but-—”
“Yes. Well, since the problem is all but resolved, it need concern us no further. On your feet, Signor Victor.” The knife blade took a little neck-nip.
“Suppose I just scream like hell instead,” I suggested.
“That would be very foolish. Your throat would be cut from ear to ear immediately. It would be inconvenient for Vito and myself, I admit. We should probably have to hold the crew and passengers at gunpoint while we stole parachutes and bailed out. And it is such a long walk to Paris! Really, Signor Victor, I don’t believe I would even grieve for you if you put us to all that trouble. Indeed, I don’t know if I could find it in my heart to ever forgive you.”
“I see. Well, I wouldn’t want to put any strain on our relationship.” I got to my feet.
“Very slowly now, Signor Victor.”
We started back down the aisle with Vito in front. I came next with Luigi behind me. His arm was draped over my shoulder in comradely fashion, the stiletto lightly and playfully pricking my throat. Anybody seeing us might have supposed we were a trio of beer-drinking buddies off to the john.
There was indeed a privy at the end of the corridor near the tail section of the plane. But I knew it wasn’t that which they were guiding me towards. Our destination was just past it -- the emergency escape hatch. I knew that once we reached it Luigi would cut my throat quickly and shove me out. There was a good chance I might never be missed until after the plane arrived in Paris. And even if I was missed, my fate would probably remain a mystery.
I tried stalling. “Did you finish off Carmella?” I asked Luigi, figuring I might sidetrack him a bit with shoptalk.
“That wasn’t necessary," he told me. “She has renounced her claim to the inheritance.”
“How did you find that out?”
He didn’t bother to answer. He merely smiled and prodded me with the dagger. I guessed that there must be a leak at Dombey of Dover. Luigi knew altogether too much about me and my activities. There must be a Mafia plant there. I’d have to tip off Tarleton as soon as I got the chance. What chance? Talk about being a cockeyed optimist! Cozying up to death the way I was, this was no time to be making long-range plans!
“Anyway,” I told Luigi, “it’s too bad you didn’t know that before you knocked off those two innocent girls.”
“Everybody makes mistakes," he told me. “That’s why they put erasers on pencils.” He sounded hurt.
“That‘s true. And if you ask me, you’re about to make another one. A serious one. Hasn’t it occurred to you that I’m on the trail of something? Wouldn’t you be better off with me alive so you can cut yourselves in on whatever I find? Kill me, and you’re right back at the same old dead end.”
“Not quite, Signor Victor. You don’t really know anything we haven’t already found out. We too have learned that Françoise Laval is in Paris. I don’t believe you know anything more than that.”
“You’re wrong,” I told him, still playing for time, trying to pique his interest. “I know much more than that.”
“He’s stalling,” Vito interrupted. “Come on, let's get this over with.”
We had just drawn abreast of the john. Vito moved a few steps farther to slide back the bolt on the emergency-hatch door. If I was going to make a move, it was now or never. I made my move!
I flipped my hand up from the elbow and knocked the knife-hand away from my throat. My other elbow shot back and caught Luigi in the chest. He stumbled backward.
I shot forward straight through the door to the privy. I looked it behind me and leaned against it.
”Come out of there, Signor Victor! You are only delaying matters.” Luigi sounded very annoyed.
“How could you have been so careless?” Vito bawled Luigi out.
“It wasn’t my fault. He took me by surprise.”
“The family isn’t going to like this,” Vito said disapprovingly. I knew he was referring to the Mafia, but from his tone he might have been lecturing a naughty boy caught playing hockey.
“Aw, gee, Vito, it was an accident. Besides, he isn’t going any place. We've got him trapped in there. Why don’t we just shoot a few rounds through the door. That’s bound to finish him.”
There was a long silence while Vito considered this. During it I lay down flat on the floor of the john and tried to crawl into the tiles. If they were going to start blasting away, I was determined to be as difficult a target as possible.
But before they could decide one way or another, there was an interruption. “Is anything the matter, gentlemen?” It was the voice of the stewardess.
“Some fellow’s in the bathroom and we want to use it,” Vito told her.
“Oh. Well, I'm sure he'll be through soon. Why don’t we just be patient, gentlemen?” Her tone was the universal tone of stewardesses the world over. I could almost see the Rheingold-girl smile she was bestowing on them.
"That’s all very well for you to say,” Vito whined. “But I’m in rather a hurry. He’s been in there since we took off. Why doesn't he give someone else a chance?”
“If you’ll lust return to your seats, I'll be happy to let you know the moment the gentleman emerges.” Her tone was as soothing as lanolin flowing over rose petals.
But my playmates weren’t buying it. “This is really urgent, Signora,” Luigi told her.
“Oh. I see.” She rattled the doorknob. “Excuse me, sir,” she called through the locked door. “But perhaps you’re not aware that others are waiting to use this lavatory.”
“Tough!” I told her. “Let ’em wait.”
“Please sir. I don‘t mean to disturb you, but this is the only lavatory on the aircraft. If you could perhaps manage to hurry a little bit . . .”