He walked slowly around the lounge while Carlotti, Grandi and I stared down at our feet and June stared out of the window. "She wouldn't commit suicide," he said suddenly. "She had too much strength of character."
They seemed empty words: unexpected words from a man like Chalmers. I found myself wondering what chance he had ever given himself to find out if Helen had had any character at all. No one said anything.
He continued to walk around the lounge, his hands in his pockets, his face set and frowning.
After several uncomfortable minutes had ticked by, he paused suddenly and asked the worldold question, "Who is the man?"
"We don't know," Carlotti said. "Your daughter may have purposely misled the estate agent and the village woman by telling them he is an American. There is no American in Italy of that name."
Chalmers came over and sat down again.
"He's probably not using his own name," he said.
"That is possible," Carlotti said. "We have made inquiries in Sorrento. There was an American, travelling alone, on the three-thirty from Naples."
I felt my heart contract: it was a horrible feeling. I found difficulty in breathing.
"He left a suitcase at the station," Carlotti went on. "Unfortunately the description of him varies. No one particularly noticed him. He was seen walking on the Sorrento-Amalfi road by a passing motorist. All anyone can be certain about is that he wore a light grey suit. The station clerk said he was tall. The motorist thought he was of middle height. A boy from a nearby village said he was short and thick-set. There is no clear description of him. Around ten o'clock in the evening he collected his suitcase and took a taxi to Naples. He was in a great hurry. He offered the driver a five thousand lire tip to get him to the station to catch the eleven-fifteen to Rome."
Chalmers was sitting forward, his eyes intent. He reminded me of some beast of prey.
"The road to Amalfi is also the road to this villa?"
"Yes. There is a branch road."
"My daughter died at eight-fifteen?"
"Yes."
"And this fella took a taxi in a hurry around ten o'clock?"
"Yes."
"How long would it take to get from this villa to Sorrento?"
"About half an hour by car, or walking, it'd take well over an hour and a half."
Chalmers brooded for a moment.
I sat there breathing through my half-open mouth and feeling pretty bad. I expected him to come out with some devastating discovery after these questions, but he didn't. Instead, he suddenly hunched his shoulders and said, "She wouldn't commit suicide. I know that. You can put that theory right out of your mind, Lieutenant. It is obvious: she fell off the cliff while using this camera."
Carlotti didn't say anything. Grandi moved uneasily and stared hard at his finger-nails.
"That's the verdict I expect to hear," Chalmers went on, his voice harsh.
Carlotti said smoothly, "It's my business to give the facts to the coroner, Signor Chalmers. It is his business to find the verdict."
Chalmers stared at him.
"Yes. Who is the coroner?"
"Il signor Giuseppe Maletti."
"Here - in Naples?"
"Yes."
Chalmers nodded.
"Where is my daughter's body?"
"At the Sorrento mortuary."
"I want to see her."
"Of course. There will be no difficulty. If you will let me know when, I will take you there."
"You don't have to do that. I don't like people following me around. Dawson will take me."
"As you wish, signor."
"Just fix it with whoever is in charge that I can see her." Chalmers took out a new cigar and began to peel off the band. For the first time since I had entered the room, he looked at me. "Is the Italian press covering this business?"
"Not yet. We've been holding up on it until you came."
He studied me, then nodded.
"You did right." Then he turned to Carlotti. "Thanks for the facts, Lieutenant. If there's anything else I want to know between now and the inquest, I'll get in touch with you."
Carlotti and Grandi got to their feet.
"I am at your service, signor," Carlotti said.
When they had gone, Chalmers sat for a moment, staring down at his hands, then he said quietly and savagely, "God damn wops."
I thought this was the time to unload the box of jewels Carlotti had entrusted in my keeping. I put the box on the table in front of Chalmers.
"These belonged to your daughter," I said. "They were found in the villa."
He frowned, reached forward, opened the box and stared at the contents. He turned the box upside down, letting the jewels spill out on to the table.
June got to her feet and crossed over to stare over his shoulder.
"You didn't give her those, did you, Sherwin?" she asked.
"Of course not!" he said, poking at the diamond collar with a thick finger. "I wouldn't give a kid stuff like this."
She reached over his shoulder and made to pick up the diamond collar, but he roughly pushed her hand away.
"Leave it!" The snap in his voice startled me. "Go and sit down!"
Slightly shrugging her shoulders, she returned to her seat by the window and sat down.
Chalmers scooped the jewels back into the box and shut the lid. He handled the box as if it were made of egg shells.
He sat motionless for a long time, staring at the box. I watched him, wondering what his next
move was to be. I knew he would make a move. He was getting his big-shot atmosphere back.
His wife, staring out of the window, and I staring down at my hands, were pigmies again.
"Get this Giuseppe whatever his name is on the telephone," Chalmers said, without looking at me. "The coroner fella."
I turned up Maletti's number in the book and put through the call. While I was waiting for the connection, Chalmers went on, "Give the news to the press: no details. Tell them Helen, while on vacation, fell off a cliff and was killed."
"Yes," I said.
"Be here to-morrow morning at nine o'clock with a car. I want to go to the mortuary."
A voice said on the line that this was the coroner's office. I asked to be put through to Maletti. When he came on the line, I said to Chalmers, "The coroner."
He got up and came over.
"Okay, get busy, Dawson," he said, as he took the receiver from my hand. "Mind - no details."
As I went out of the room I heard him say, "This is Sherwin Chalmers talking . . ."
Somehow he made his name sound more important and more impressive than any other name in the world.
PART FIVE
I
At nine o'clock the following morning I was outside the Vesuvius hotel with the hired Rolls as instructed.