When he came out, he walked just as briskly as when he went in. His cigar, now burned down to an inch and a half, was still gripped between his teeth. I decided that to look at your dead daughter with a cigar in your mouth was playing the role of “the iron man” to an ultimate end.
He got into the back seat of the Rolls before I had time to get out and hold the rear door open for him.
“Okay, Dawson, we’ll go up to this villa now.”
Nothing was said during the drive up to the villa. When we got there, and I had got out of the car to open the wrought-iron gates and got back in again, and we had crawled up the drive, I saw the Lincoln convertible was still standing on the tarmac before the front door.
As Chalmers got out of the Rolls, he said, “Is this her car?”
I said it was.
He glanced at it and then went on up the steps and into the villa. I went after him.
The chauffeur watched us without interest. As soon as Chalmers’s back was turned, he reached for a cigarette.
I kept in the background while Chalmers looked the villa over. He left the bedroom to the last and he spent some time in there. Curious to see what be was up to, I edged to the doorway and looked in.
He was sitting on the bed beside one of Helen’s suitcases, his big, fat hands in a mass of her nylon underwear while he stared fixedly out of the window.
There was a look on his face that turned me cold, and I moved silently back until he was out of my sight, then I sat down and lit a cigarette.
The past two days had been the worst I had ever lived through. I felt I was caught in a trap and was waiting for the hunter to come along and finish me off.
The fact that Carlotti had traced me from Sorrento to the villa, that he knew I had been wearing a grey suit, that he knew exactly when Helen had died and that I, as the mysterious man in the grey suit, had been up there at that time, made my flesh creep.
I had lain awake most of the night, worrying and thinking, and as I sat waiting while Chalmers was going through his daughter’s things, I still worried.
He came out eventually and walked slowly across the lounge to the window.
I watched him, wondering what was going on in his mind. He remained like that for several minutes, then he turned and came over to sit in a chair near where I was sitting.
“You didn’t see much of Helen when she was in Rome?” he asked, staring at me with his rain-coloured eyes.
This question was unexpected and I felt myself stiffen.
“No. I called her twice, but she didn’t seem to want me around,” I said. “I guess she looked on me as her father’s employee.”
Chalmers nodded.
“You have no idea who her friends were?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“She obviously got into pretty rotten company.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I suppose this guy Sherrard gave her the jewels and the car,” he went on, staring down at his freckled hands. “It looks as if I made a mistake keeping her so short of money. I should have given her more and sent some woman along with her. When a good-looking punk comes along, well-heeled with money, and is willing to give lavish presents, it doesn’t matter how decent a girl is, it’s a temptation not to fall for him. I know enough about human nature to know that. I shouldn’t have put her in the way of such temptation.” He produced a cigar and began to peel off its cellophane wrapping. “She was a thoroughly decent girl, Dawson,” he went on. “She was a student; a serious-minded girl. She wanted to study architecture. That’s why I let her come to
Italy. Rome is the blood and bones of architects!”
I took out my handkerchief and wiped my face. I didn’t say anything.
“I have a pretty high opinion of you,” he went on. “I wouldn’t be giving you the foreign desk if I hadn’t. I’ve fixed this coroner fella: he’s going to bring in a verdict of accidental death. There’s going to be no talk about pregnancy. I’ve had a word with the police chief. He’s agreed to let the thing lie. The press will roe the line. I’ve had a word in that direction too. So now we have a clear field. I’m going to leave this to you. I have to be in New York by the day after tomorrow. I haven’t the time to dig into this thing myself, but you have. From now on, Dawson, you have nothing else to do but to find Sherrard.”
I sat frozen, staring at him.
“Find Sherrard?” I repeated stupidly.
Chalmers nodded.
“That’s right. Sherrard seduced my daughter, and now he’s going to damn well pay for it. But we’ve got to find him first. That’s going to be your job. You can have all the money you want and all the help too. You can hire a flock of private detectives. I’ll have some sent out from New York if they’re no good here. It won’t be easy. It’s obvious he wasn’t using his real name, but somewhere along the line he must have left a clue, and once you find that, you’ll find other clues, then you’ll find him.”
“You can rely on me, Mr. Chalmers,” I somehow managed to get out.
“Let me know how you’re going to tackle the job. I want to be kept informed of every move you make. If I think of anything, I’ll let you know. The thing to do is to find him, and find him fast.”
“What happens when we do find him?”
I had to ask that question. I had to know.
He looked at me, and there was an expression in his eyes that turned my mouth dry.
“This is the way I see it,” he said “Helen met this punk soon after she arrived in Rome. It didn’t take him long to seduce her. The doctor says she was eight weeks’ pregnant. She arrived in Rome fourteen weeks ago, so he worked pretty fast. She probably told him what had happened, and like all the rats of his type, he started to fade out of the picture. I reckon Helen took this villa in the hope of winning him back.” He turned his head to look around the lounge. “It’s pretty romantic, isn’t it? I guess she hoped the surroundings would soften him. From what that wop detective says, Sherrard or whatever he calls himself did came here, but he didn’t soften.”
I crossed my legs. I had to do something. I couldn’t just shake a frozen dummy.
“Know what I think?” Chalmers went on, turning the full force of his big-shot personality on to me. “I think Helen’s death was no accident. I think we have two alternatives: she either tried to scare him into marrying her by threatening to commit suicide, and when he told her to go ahead and jump, she jumped or else, to shut her mouth, he shoved her off the cliff.”
“You can’t believe that… ?” I began. My voice sounded as if it were coming out of a tunnel.
“I don’t think she jumped,” he said, leaning forward, his face set and his eyes frightening. “I think he killed her! He knew she was my daughter. He knew sooner or later I’d hear what he had done to her. He knew if he tangled with me, he wouldn’t, stand a chance. So he manoeuvred her up on to the cliff top and gave her a push.”
“But that’s murder,” I said.
He showed his teeth in a mirthless smile.
“Of course it’s murder, but you don’t have to worry about that. All you have to do is to find him, then I’ll handle it. Let everyone think it’s an accident. That suits me. I’m not going to have any publicity on this thing. No one is going to snigger behind my back because she was pregnant. If this guy is arrested and tried for murder, the whole dirty story will come out, and I don’t want it to come out, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make him pay for what he has done. I can kill him in my own particular way, and that’s what I intend to do.” His eyes were glaring now. “Don’t think I’m going to murder him. I’m not that crazy, but I can make his life such a hell, in the end he’ll be glad to blow his rotten brains out. I’ve got the power and the money to do it, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll go after the basic things of his life first. I can get him turned out of his house or apartment or wherever he lives. I can prevent him putting a car on the road. I can fix it he can’t go into any decent restaurant. Small stuff, you think? Imagine how you’d like it. Then I can get after his money and wipe out his securities. I can make him lose his job, and I can make sure no one else ever employs him. I can hire thugs to beat him up from time to time until he’s too damned scared to show himself on the streets at night. I can even fix it that be loses his passport. Then when he begins to think life’s bad, I’ll really start on him,” He pushed his jaw at me, his face turning a dusty red. “Every so often I run into odd, tough characters: characters who are a little screwy. I know a guy who would blind this punk for a couple of hundred dollars. He’d tear his goddam eyeballs out, and think nothing of it.” He smiled suddenly, a smile that chilled me. “I’ll make him pay, Dawson, make no mistake about that.” He tapped my knee with a thick finger. “You find him — I’ll fix him.”