1975 - The Joker in the Pack (13 page)

After knocking, Dick entered. He stood just inside the door, holding a shabby panama hat in both hands in front of him. He was wearing a cheap, crumpled grey linen suit, a white shirt and a dark blue string tie. Her eyes ran over him. In spite of his shabbiness he was still beautiful to look at and his big, fawn-like eyes gave her a sinking feeling.

“You have heard that Mr. Rolfe is too unwell to travel?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.” A pause. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Dick.” She may as well get him used to her calling him by his first name. “It is most unfortunate. It means I will have to postpone the trip.”

She was watching him closely and just for a brief moment the dark eyes lit up.

So you are pleased little boy, she thought. All you are thinking about is your stupid motorcycle. Well, I’ll change all that. Soon, all you will be thinking about is me.

“I am waiting to hear what the doctor has to say. It could be that we will leave in three or four days. You may go home. When I want you, I will send for you.” She crossed to the table and took her purse from her handbag. “Here is your week’s salary. You are now a member of my staff. Do you understand?”

His liquid black eyes dwelt for a moment on the hundred-dollar bill she was holding. His full lips moved into what could have been a smile, but it was instantly repressed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She gave him the bill.

“You are to have no contact with Jackson, Dick. Is that understood?”

He flinched.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All right. Now go home and wait.” She looked fixedly at him. “Enjoy your bike while you can.”

He regarded her, then looked away. A flash of something in his eyes? She wondered, but she wasn’t sure.

He opened the door, gave her a stiff little bow and stepped into the corridor, closing the door softly.

Could that flash in his eyes have been hatred? she wondered. It was possible. She smiled. Opposition was always a challenge. She was confident his opposition wouldn’t last long. This affair was going to be even more exciting than she had first imagined.

* * *

Like a red ball, the sun sank slowly into the sea. Long shadows crept up the beach. The palm trees were black against the rose and yellow sky. Happy people continued to laugh, shout, run, splash and scream. Cars continued to crawl along the sea road. To Nassau this was just another hot evening with a night to come of brilliant lights, music, dancing, the beat of drums and the shuffle of feet.

Helga sat on the terrace, only half-aware of the night sounds, her mind occupied with the problem of her future.

“You sent for me, madame?”

Hinkle appeared at her side. He placed a silver tray on which stood a shaker and a glass on the table. He poured, then placed the glass within her reach.

“Sit down, Hinkle.”

“I would rather not, thank you, madame.”

She turned on him.

“For God’s sake, sit down!” Her voice was strident.

Startled, Hinkle pulled up a chair and sat on the edge of it.

“I’m sorry, Hinkle. You must forgive me. I didn’t mean to shout at you. My nerves are shot.” She forced a smile.

“That is understandable, madame. Have you any news?”

“I have talked to Dr. Levi. Clever as he is and smooth as he is, I have come to the conclusion that he knows no more of what has happened to Mr. Rolfe than Dr. Bellamy does – which is exactly nothing!”

Hinkle’s fat face registered shock.

“But surely, madame . . .”

“The fact is, Hinkle, these expensive and so called expert doctors won’t admit when they are baffled. I am not taken in by Dr. Levi’s vague talk. He says Mr. Rolfe is much worse – that is obvious – and he thinks the worsening is nothing to do with his stroke. This is something new. At least he is honest to admit he isn’t sure what the new development can be. He talked vaguely about the symptoms resembling narcolepsy. Doctors! How they love to hide behind their jargon! When I asked him what narcolepsy meant he said it is a curious condition – I am quoting him – which brings on uncontrollable attacks of sleep. When I asked him how this could have happened to Mr. Rolfe, he said he didn’t know. He said Mr. Rolfe appeared to be in no immediate danger but it would be most unwise to fly him home. Arrangements are now being made to move him to the Nassau hospital.”

Hinkle moved uneasily.

“I am sorry, madame. This is most distressing news. What does Dr. Levi propose?”

Helga lifted her hands in despair.

“He is calling in Dr. Bernstein who will fly from Berlin today.”

“There is, of course, no decision of when we can leave here?”

“I wish to God there was. No, Hinkle, we must wait.”

Hinkle, his face gloomy, got to his feet.

“Very well, madame. Will you be dining here?”

“I think I will . . . on the terrace. Dr. Levi wanted me to dine with him but I have had enough of doctors for tonight.” She looked up at him. “Give me one of your lovely omelets.”

His face lit up.

“That will be a pleasure, madame.”

“Still no news of Miss Sheila?”

He shook his head.

“No, madame, but the mail these days is very unreliable.”

An hour late, Helga watched Herman’s removal to the hospital. Dr. Levi, Dr. Bellamy and his assistant, two interns, two stretcher men and Nurse Fairely fussed around the inert body as it was carried to the elevator.

One of the richest and most powerful men in the world, she thought, now a sleeping, half-dead body but which still commanded the V.I.P. treatment.

“Leave all this to me,” Dr. Levi said in his deferential voice. “Should any change occur I will let you know immediately. You must not worry. Once we get this extraordinary change in him diagnosed, I feel confident there will be a recovery.”

Words! Words! Words!

“Thank you,” she said.

How much better it would be, she thought, as she watched the elevator descend from sight, if he had said there was no hope: better for Herman: much, much better for her.

The rest of the evening was a dreary, depressing repetition of the previous evenings. She ate the omelet, praised it and then sat on the terrace, listening to the people still on the beach, enjoying themselves. The hours dragged. She tried to read a book, but it failed to interest her. She thought of Dick. What was he doing now? Rushing along the roads on his motorbike? Had he a girl? Was the girl clinging to him on the back of the bike? If it hadn’t been for Herman’s new and mysterious illness, the boy, Hinkle and she would, at this moment, be at the villa in Paradise City.

Dr. Levi had said he could give her no idea when it would be safe to fly Herman home. So she was stuck in this hotel, alone, until this goddamn doctor make up his goddamn mind! If could be days or even months!

Suddenly she realized she was wallowing in self-pity. She pulled herself together. She was not going to just sit here, pitying herself, prepared to accept a long, lonely wait either for Herman to die or for him to be taken home. She must do something! She would do something!

Her eyes narrowed as she thought. She would have to remain in Nassau. This was something she had to accept and now wanted to accept because Dick was here. But that didn’t mean she had to stay in this stifling hotel, watched and talked about. Her active brain began to race. If she could find a small villa! Frowning, she saw a problem. Hinkle! She had gained his trust. She must be very careful to keep that trust. She knew Hinkle was longing to return to the Paradise City villa. She knew how he hated hotel life. She sat still, a cigarette between her slim fingers, as she thought. A villa with Dick! A villa without Hinkle! This was the solution! Keep thinking, she told herself, the solution will come if I keep thinking.

The buzz of the telephone startled her. Impatiently she went into the living room.

“Who is it?”

“Mr. Winborn, Mrs. Rolfe, calling from New York.”

“Put him on.”

“Mrs. Rolfe, Dr. Levi has telephoned me.” Winborn’s voice, cold and polite came on the line. “It seems that Mr. Rolfe has had a relapse. I am exceedingly sorry. It is a puzzling business, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Dr. Levi is going to consult Dr. Bernstein.”

“So I understand. I called to know if there is anything I can do for you.”

“I won’t be going to Switzerland. Perhaps you could arrange for me to able to cash checks here?”

“Certainly, Mrs. Rolfe. I will make the necessary arrangements . . . say five thousand a week?”

“That will be more than ample.”

How easy it was to spend other people’s money, she thought. If the money had been his, he wouldn’t have thought in terms of five thousand dollars a week.

“You didn’t find a letter for me then, Mrs. Rolfe?”

“I would have called you if I had.”

“Odd, isn’t it? Nurse Fairely said Mr. Rolfe was so persistent.”

“Most odd.”
Go on talking, Helga thought, you’re not as smart as you think.

A long pause, then he said, “Well, please keep me informed. Good night, Mrs. Rolfe,” and he hung up.

Helga looked at her watch. The time was 23.25. She wondered if she should take sleeping pills. Why not? Sleep shut away her loneliness. She went into the bathroom. Half an hour later, she was dreaming that Dick was lying beside her. It was an erotic, wonderful dream and when she woke to find the sun coming through the blinds, she felt relaxed and refreshed.

She was dressed when Hinkle brought her her coffee.

“I’ll call the hospital,” she said as Hinkle poured the coffee.

“There is no change, Mrs. Rolfe,” Dr. Bellamy’s assistant told her.

As she hung up, she looked at Hinkle and shook her head.

“No change.”

“Let us hope when the other doctor arrives . . .”

“Yes.”

When he had gone, Helga went down to the lobby and asked the hall porter who was the best real estate agent in town. He gave her a name and directions and taking her Mini, she drove to the agency.

William Mason, the estate agent, was a young, cheerful looking Englishman who gave her a warm welcome. He said he was sorry to read about Mr. Rolfe’s illness and he offered his best hopes for a speedy recovery.

“I am told there is difficulty in renting a furnished villa, Mr. Mason,” Helga said. “My majordomo has made inquiries and everything seems to be taken. I don’t know how long I will have to remain in Nassau, but I must have a furnished place. I can’t continue to stay at my hotel.”

“I can well understand that, Mrs. Rolfe, but I regret I have nothing suitable for you. I can assure you, to save you wasting your time, that there is nothing the other agents could offer you either. The big villas have been snapped up.”

“Haven’t you something small? Now my husband is in the hospital, I don’t need anything large.”

“Well, yes, I have something very small, but I don’t think it would be suitable for you, Mrs. Rolfe. It has only one bedroom. It is a gem of a place, but tiny.”

Her heart began to beat fast with excitement.

“I would only want it for myself. My servant would come in daily.”

Mason beamed.

“Well then, perhaps you would like to see it. It is expensive and very isolated, but it is really nice.”

“Can I see it now?”

The tiny villa was exactly what Helga wanted. Completely isolated, with a quarter of a mile of private, screened beach, it had a big covered terrace which led into an enormous living and dining room, two bathrooms, an elaborately equipped kitchen, a big swimming pool with a covered barbeque, a bar and up a steep flight of stairs a bedroom nearly as big as the living room. It was immaculately furnished throughout and it seemed to her everything was brand new.

“But this is wonderful!” she exclaimed. “This is just what I want.”

“The rent is three thousand dollars a month. I have tried to get it reduced, but the owner won’t budge.” Mason smiled at her. “In confidence, Mrs. Rolfe, this is a wealthy man’s love nest. As you can see nothing has been spared in the way of luxury. Unhappily there was a motor accident and the ‘lady’ was killed. My client hasn’t been near the place since. This is the only reason why it is for rent.”

A love nest!

Helga smiled. What a love nest! Again the cards were falling her way.

“I’ll take it for a month,” she said. “When can I move in?”

“As soon as the agreement is signed.” Mason looked slightly startled at her quick decision. “Will you need a cleaning woman?”

“No, I have my own servant. You mean I can move in tomorrow?”

“Certainly, Mrs. Rolfe. It will be three thousand dollars paid in advance and the agreement signed, then it is yours.”

“Is the telephone connected?”

“Yes, no problem.”

“Then let us return to your office and I will sign.”

Driving back to the hotel, Helga’s mind was busy. First, she would have to handle Hinkle, then she would have to get a hold of Dick. In spite of her impatience to have Dick on her own, she would have to wait (this goddamn waiting again!) until Dr. Bernstein had arrived and had seen Herman.

Back at the hotel she found Hinkle sitting on the second terrace reading John Locke’s essays.

She sat beside him, putting her hand on his arm to prevent him from rising.

“I’ve been thinking Hinkle,” she said. “It is unnecessary for both of us to remain here. I am worried about the villa. If Mr. Rolfe can return, I want the place ready for him. You know what the servants are like without your supervision. They do nothing. The gardeners also will be doing nothing. We have experiences this before when you came to Switzerland with Mr. Rolfe. I have to stay as much as I dislike it, but I want you to go back and make sure everything is immaculate when Mr. Rolfe returns.”

Hinkle’s eyes lit up.

“But I can’t do that, madame,” he said without much conviction. “Who will look after you? No, madame, I would worry about you.”

She forced a laugh.

“Kind Hinkle! Surely you know me well enough by now to know I can look after myself. The hotel service is really very good. I know you hate sitting around like this. There are so many things to attend to at home. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful opportunity to have Mr. Rolfe’s study redecorated? You have so often said how it needs a facelift and while he is in bed, you could have it done. So please leave tomorrow and a make a start.”