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I watched Carlotti reach forward and turn back the sheet.

III

It was Helen all right, and, of course, she was dead.

Although someone with a practised hand had cleaned her up, and had made her as presentable as possible, her face still bore the marks of the awful fall she had taken.

It was pretty unnerving to stand there and look down at the dead, shattered face. I turned away, feeling bad. Grandi, who bad come up behind me, put his hand on my arm as Carlotti pulled the sheet back into place.

I jerked away from Grandi and walked out into the corridor. The fresh draught of air coming in through the open doorway did a lot to help me pull myself together.

The two detectives came out silently, and the three of us walked slowly back to the car.

“Yes, if s her,” I said, as we reached the car. “No doubt about it.”

Carlotti lifted his shoulders.

“I have been hoping that there might be a mistake. This is going to be troublesome. There will be a lot of publicity.”

I could see he was still very worried about Chalmers. He knew Chalmers had enough influence to lift him right out of his job if he put a foot wrong.

“Yeah,” I said. I wasn’t sorry for him. I had too much on my mind at that moment to be sorry for anyone except myself. “I’ll have to send him a cable.”

Carlotti lit another of his awful cigarettes. As he flicked away the burning match, he said, “We’ll go to the station now. You can use the telephone there.”

We got in the car: Carlotti and Grandi behind and I with the driver. No one said anything while we drove through the traffic-congested main street to the police station. By the time we got there, I was feeling a little more like my old self, although I was still pretty shaken. They left me in an office while they went off to another office for a conference.

I put a call through to Maxwell.

“There’s no doubt about it,” I said, when he came on the line. “It’s Helen all right.”

“Sweet grief! What do we do now?”

“I’m going to send a cable to Chalmers. I’ll give him three hours to get over the shock, then I’ll call him on long distance.”

I could hear him breathing like an old man with asthma.

“I guess that’s all you can do,” he said after a long pause. “Okay, if there’s anything I can do…”

“Look after the job,” I said. “It doesn’t mean that because Chalmers’s daughter falls off a cliff, the job stands still.”

“I’ll look after it if you’ll look after Chalmers,” he told me. “There’s no need for me to shove my oar into this, Ed. You’re fitted for the job. He likes you. He thinks you’re sharp. He hasn’t much use for me. I’ll take care of the work here: you take care of Chalmers.”

“Okay. Put Miss Valetti on the line, will you?”

“Sure. Hang on a moment.”

The relief in his voice was almost comic.

A moment or so later, Gina’s cool voice came on the line.

“She’s dead then, Ed?”

“Yes. She’s dead all right. Have you got your book? I want you to send a cable to Chalmers.”

“Go ahead.”

That’s something I have always admired about Gina. No matter how big the emergency is, she never got rattled.

I dictated a cable to Chalmers. I told him his daughter had met with an accident I regretted that she was dead. I said I would call him at his house at 16.00 hours European time with the details. That gave me three hours in which to get the details and find out how much the police had discovered. It would also give me time to cook up my end of the tale if it seemed necessary to cook up a tale.

Gina said she would get the cable off right away.

“Do that,” I said. “There’s a chance Chalmers will call before I call him. If he does, you don’t know a thing - understand? Don’t get tangled up in this, Gina. You don’t know a thing. Tell him I’ll call him at four o’clock sharp.”

“All right, Ed.”

It was good to hear her calm, matter-of-fact voice. I dropped the receiver on to its cradle and pushed back my chair. As I did so, Carlotti came in.

“I am going to look at the place where she died,” he said. “Do you want to come?”

I stood up.

“Sure, I’ll come.”

As I followed him out of the office, I saw Grandi was waiting in the corridor. Maybe I was suffering from a guilty conscience, but I had an uneasy idea that the look he gave me was full of suspicion.

PART FOUR

I

The police launch rounded the bend of the high cliff. I was sitting in the stern of the boat by Carlotti. He was smoking, and he wore blue-tinted sunglasses. It seemed odd to me that a policeman should wear sunglasses. I felt he should be above such luxuries.

Grandi and three uniformed policemen were amidships. Grandi didn’t wear sunglasses: whatever he did would always be official and correct.

As soon as we got around the bend, I recognized the tiny bay and the massive boulders on which Helen had fallen.

Carlotti stared up at the cliff head. He made a little face. I could see he was thinking what it must have felt to have fallen from such a height. Looking up, I also thought the same thing. The distant cliff head up there made me feel like a pigmy.

The boat chugged into the bay. As soon as it drew alongside the rocks, we scrambled out.

Grandi said to Carlotri, “We haven’t touched anything. I wanted you to see it first. All we did was to remove the body.”

He and Carlotti began a systematic search of the spot. I and two of the policemen sat on one of the bouiders, out of the way, and watched them. The third policeman remained in the boat.

It wasn’t long before Grandi found the camera case I had tossed over the cliff. It was lying half-submerged in water, between two boulders. He fished it up. Both he and Carlotri examined it the way a couple of professors would have examined something that had fallen off Mars.

I noted the careful way Carlotti handled the case, and I was thankful I had got rid of all my prints.

Finally he looked over at me.

“This must be hers. Was she interested in photography?”

I very nearly said she was, but caught myself in time.

“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “Most Americans on a visit to Italy bring a camera.”

Carlotti nodded and handed the camera case to one of the policemen who put it carefully into a plastic bag.

They continued their search. After about ten minutes and after they had climbed some distance from where I was sitting, I saw they had made another discovery. Grandi bent and picked something up from between the cliff face and a rock. The two men stood close together, their backs to me while they examined whatever it was they had found.

I waited, smoking, aware that my heart kept thumping and my mouth was dry.

Finally, after what seemed to me a lifetime, Carlotti made his way to where I was sitting. I pushed off from the rock and went to meet him. I saw he was holding what remained of Helen’s Paillard Bolex camera. It had obviously hit a rock in its fall down the cliff face. The telephoto lens had snapped off and there was a dent in its side.

“This could explain how the accident happened,” Carlotti said, showing me the camera. “She was probably taking a picture; holding it like this.” He held up the camera and peered through the viewfinder. “If she had stood on the edge of the path up there, it would be easy for her to take a false step with this thing obscuring her view’.”

I took the camera from him and looked at the little window panel at the back that showed how many feet of film you have run off. It showed twelve feet.