1980 - You Can Say That Again (12 page)

Suppose they were stupid enough to get rid of me as they had got rid of Larry Edwards? So what? They would have to begin again. To find some actor to impersonate Ferguson, to get him to learn to forge Ferguson’s signature, to get him to imitate Ferguson’s voice would be a real problem. Durant had already tried one impersonator who had failed him. He had found me. This time, his luck had held. He not only had found a man who could pass for Ferguson, but had the talent to forge his signature and imitate his voice. It could take months, even with all the money in the world, to replace me.

My mind shifted to Loretta. Durant was leaving for Washington tomorrow. Loretta had told me as soon as he had gone, a retired priest would arrive with a marriage certificate.

In return for signing the register and also the will, she would eventually pay me two million dollars. That stupid, lying bribe hadn’t even been believable to me. I had agreed because I remembered Larry Edwards and Charles Duvine, but both Loretta and Durant were far too committed for either of them to murder me.

Without me they were sunk!

Did this thought give me a lift!

All you have to do, I told myself, is to refuse to forge any more signatures. You have them over a barrel. You . . .

The door opened and Mazzo came in pushing a trolley.

‘Here’s your lunch, Mr. Ferguson, as ordered.’

He laid the table while I watched him. I felt good. I still had a lot of thinking to do, but, for the first time since I had been kidnapped, I could see a bright light at the end of this frightening tunnel.

‘There you are, Mr. Ferguson,’ Mazzo said, setting down the dish. ‘I’ll go feed my face. I’ll be back in an hour and a half, then we’ll play tennis . . . right?’

I ate with appetite. My panic was now forgotten.

Tonight, Loretta would come to my room. This would be the first showdown. She would be in for a surprise and there was nothing she could do about it.

I felt so good, I took eight games off Mazzo in three sets. I hit the ball with all my weight and strength and I could see, by his startled expression, as my passing shots zipped by him, how surprised he was. He had to pull out all his expertise to keep ahead.

When the game was over, we were both sweating and coming to the net, he grinned at me.

‘You could become quite a player, Mr. Ferguson. I haven’t had such a good game in years.’

‘I’ll beat you yet,’ I said, and walked to where I had left my sweater. I remembered Loretta had said that John Merrill Ferguson lived with a nurse in a suite in the left wing of the house.

As I began pulling on the sweater, I looked to the left of the big house. On the top floor there were three big windows, and each window was protected by iron bars.

Iron bars? A prison? Was John Merrill Ferguson a prisoner? I remembered Mazzo had said: She likes to think he’s bad, but . . . Had I discovered something?

‘Let’s have a shower, Mr. Ferguson,’ Mazzo said and he picked up the racquets.

As we walked off the court, my mind was busy. Suppose John Merrill Ferguson wasn’t mentally ill? Suppose he had been locked away to give Durant and Mrs. Harriet free rein to control the Ferguson empire?

Was this story Loretta had told me that Ferguson was suffering from a strange mental illness a lie to explain to me why I had been hired to impersonate him? Why keep a man behind iron bars if he was a mental vegetable?

We reached the bottom of the steps leading to the entrance to the residence. Then abruptly I came to a stop.

Standing on the top step, was a white, toy poodle.

* * *

As I was stripping off in the bedroom for a shower, Mazzo poked his head around the door.

‘Hurry it up, Mr. Ferguson, the old lady wants to see you,’ he said, and I could see he looked worried.

‘Mrs. Harriet?’

‘Yeah. She’s just arrived. Hurry it up.’

I took a quick shower. Mazzo had put out an open neck shirt and linen slacks.

‘What’s she doing here?’ I asked as I struggled into the clothes.

‘How do I know? She’s here, so watch it.’

‘Do I put on the mask?’

‘No. She’ll be here in a minute. Go out there, and wait for her.’

I put on sandals and went into the living room.

Mazzo’s worried, flustered look became infectious. I too began to get worried. What was this old woman doing here, and what did she want with me?

I hadn’t been in the living room for more than a few minutes when the door opened and Harriet, carrying the poodle, came in.

‘Surprised to see me again?’ She smiled at me, pausing in the doorway.

‘Pleasantly.’ I gave her my wide, movie smile of charm.

‘Yes.’ She moved to a chair and sat down. ‘I’ve been hearing all kinds of good things about you, Jerry. Mr. Durant is very satisfied.’

I relaxed a little, moved to a chair and sat down.

‘That’s what I’m being paid for,’ I said.

‘It won’t be long now.’ She regarded me, still smiling. ‘There will be a few more papers for you to sign, a few more appearances at the office, then you will be free to return to Hollywood and resume your talented career.’

I decided this was the moment to drop a spanner in the works.

‘Mrs. Harriet,’ I said, giving her my best smile. ‘I am sorry to tell you but I am not happy with the situation as it stands.’

Her little dark eyes hardened.

‘Not happy?’ There was a rasp in her voice.

‘No, and being so sympathetic to me, so generous in your praise for my small talent, I feel you wouldn’t want me to be unhappy.’

She raised her eyebrows, her back stiffening.

‘Why aren’t you happy, Jerry?’

‘Mr. Durant promised to pay me one thousand dollars a day to impersonate your son.’

She inclined her head, her eyes now like wet stones.

‘That was the arrangement, Jerry. It is a generous amount, and you agreed.’ She peered at me. ‘Are you asking for more money?’

‘No.’ I gave her my wide smile again. ‘You are an intelligent lady, Mrs. Harriet. Put yourself in my place. I am being constantly watched. I am, in fact, a prisoner. Frankly, I have no confidence in Mr. Durant.’

‘A prisoner?’ She gave a trilly laugh. ‘It is necessary to keep you secluded, Jerry. You must see that. Aren’t you happy with Mazzo? I have told him to give you good meals, to amuse you.’

‘To restore my confidence, I want to be sure that I am being paid one thousand dollars a day, Mrs. Harriet,’ I said, still smiling at her.

‘Dear Jerry! You have the daily credit notes. Mr. Durant has arranged this. Of course the money is being credited to you.’

‘Anyone can walk into the Chase National Bank and pick up a bunch of credit receipt slips. Anyone can put one thousand dollars on these slips in the favor of Jerry Stevens. Anyone can scrawl initials.’ I wiped off my smile. ‘Although I am just a two-bit actor, I’m not entirely a sucker. To be happy, I want to telephone the Chase National Bank and ask them if they have a credit account in my name.’ I waved to the telephones on the desk. ‘These have been cut off. I want to use a telephone that is not cut off. When I hear for myself that this money, promised to me and earned by me, is credited to an account in my name, then I will be happy again.’

She regarded me for a long moment, her face like stone.

‘Mr. Durant wouldn’t want you to use a telephone, Jerry,’ she said finally. ‘You must be reasonable.’

‘So, Mrs. Harriet, you are telling me I will not be allowed to use the telephone. I am not going to ask you why. I want you to listen to my side. So far, I have successfully impersonated your son. I have cooperated as required. Now it is your turn to cooperate with me. If I am not allowed to telephone the bank by tomorrow morning at ten o’clock, I will no longer cooperate.’

She looked down at the poodle and fondled its ears.

Then she looked up, smiled at me and nodded.

‘For an actor, Jerry, you have unexpected shrewdness,’ she said and got to her feet. ‘I will arrange that you can call the bank at ten o’clock tomorrow.’ She moved to the door.

I was ahead of her and had the door open.

She paused and laid her hand on my arm.

‘What a sensible young man not to trust anyone,’ she said.

I stared straight into those old, bleak eyes.

‘Do you trust anyone, Mrs. Harriet?’

Her lips moved into the faintest of smiles.

‘Then I’m not young, Jerry, dear,’ she said and left me.

chapter six

I
didn’t want Loretta to creep into my bed while I was asleep so I sat up and waited for her.

Mazzo had served dinner in my room. He told me Mrs. Harriet was tired and had gone to bed early. He kept looking at me, his expression worried. I was sure he wanted to know what the old lady had said to me, but he remained silent.

After dinner, I tried to interest myself in a paperback, but my thoughts were far away. I had won my first battle with the old lady. I was confident, when I was allowed to call the bank, I would be told the money due to me had arrived. I had played a trump card with my threat to stop cooperating.

I sensed this sinister affair was moving to its conclusion.

Durant would return from Washington with this deal finalized, except for my forged signature. Then was the time to play hard to get.

There were two antagonists: Mrs. Harriet and Loretta. It seemed to me that both were planning to grab the Ferguson empire.

Then there was Durant: on whose side was he? The fact that as soon as he had left for Washington, Mrs. Harriet had appeared, seemed to me he was on her side.

On whose side was Mazzo? From his worried expression, I thought he could be on Loretta s side.

Who had ordered the murders of Larry Edwards and Charles Duvine? Mrs. Harriet? Loretta? Thinking about this, I decided Mrs. Harriet was the one, working with Durant. With their money, it would be easy to hire killers to fake accidents. Maybe Mazzo wasn’t the killer I had thought he was.

I had a hopeful feeling that Mazzo wasn’t hostile to me. Animal that he was, with careful handling, I might win him over to my side.

Then there was John Merrill Ferguson. Was he a mental vegetable or a locked-away prisoner? I thought of the iron bars at the windows. My rooms were on the right wing of the house. It would be quite a journey from my suite to his. I felt an urge to reach his prison. I might even see him. I wasn’t locked in when I went to bed, but there were the guards. Could I leave my room, make a trip to the left wing of the house without being spotted?

I was thinking about this when, as silent as a ghost, Loretta came in.

As she closed the door, she paused, staring at me.

‘Why aren’t you in bed?’ She was wearing a wrap and her feet were bare. Her face was pale and dark rings circled her eyes.

The time was a little after 01.00.

‘I have been waiting for you,’ I said, not moving.

She came to a chair opposite mine and sat down.

‘What did that old bitch have to say to you?’ she demanded.

I studied her. I could see she was only just controlling a fermenting rage.

‘Nothing of importance. She just said she was pleased with the way I was impersonating her son.’

‘Nothing else? Nothing about me?’

‘Nothing else.’

She drew in a deep breath, and her fists relaxed into hands.

‘That bastard Durant!’ She kept her voice low, but her rage made it tremble. ‘He told her to come! He wanted me watched while he was away! I have had to call off the priest. He was coming tomorrow. He can’t come while that old bitch is here!’

I didn’t say anything.

‘I don’t know when I’ll have the same opportunity,’ she went on, half talking to herself. ‘When Durant gets back, he is always around. What am I going to do?’

Still I said nothing.

She glared at me.

‘Don’t sit there like a goddamn dummy! You said you would help me! I must have proof that I married John!’

‘I’m here to do what I’m told,’ I said. ‘You tell me.’

‘If you want to earn two million dollars, you’ll have to do better than that!’ she exclaimed, her voice rising.

‘Can you rely on Mazzo?’

She looked startled.

‘Of course. What’s he to do with this?’

‘Are you sure? Are you sure he won’t give you away to Mrs. Harriet?’

She gave a sly little smile.

‘One time, perhaps, but not now.’

I didn’t have to have that spelt out. I guessed this sensual woman had seduced Mazzo. She had hooked him as she imagined she had hooked me.

The sight of her suddenly sickened me.

‘Let me think about it,’ I said, keeping my expression deadpan. ‘Maybe with Mazzo, we could find a solution.’

She regarded me suspiciously.

‘He’s useless. He hasn’t a brain in his head.’

That I knew, but I needed time, so I said, ‘He may not be so useless. I’ll think about it.’

‘You’d better do more than that! Anyway, there’s the will. That you will sign! I have contacted the priest. He is sending the will, witnessed by the two who witnessed the marriage certificate. It will arrive tomorrow. I’ll bring it to you tomorrow night to sign.’

‘Without the marriage certificate, the will will be useless,’ I said. If there was one thing I was not going to do was to forge John Merrill Ferguson’s signature to a will that would give this evil woman the right to claim his fortune.

I was suddenly aware that she was regarding me with an evil smile.

‘Of course! The solution! Now I understand why you said we could find the solution with Mazzo.’

I stiffened.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s a brilliant idea, Jerry! Of course! Mazzo! You weren’t sure if I would be shocked.’

I gaped at her, but a cold feeling crept up my spine.

‘Shocked?’ She laughed softly. ‘No, I’m not shocked Jerry. I have often wished that old bitch would drop dead. Of course! Mazzo! I felt sure you would find a solution.’

Jesus! I thought. What the hell is she babbling about?

‘Solution? I’m not with you.’ My voice was husky.

Again the evil little smile.

‘Mazzo will do anything for me. He will creep into that old bitch’s room when she’s asleep and put a pillow over her goddam face. I’ll be rid of her! I would then only have Durant to handle, and I know I can handle him.’ She got to her feet. ‘Thank you, Jerry. You won’t regret this. You’ll get your two million dollars. You’ve earned them.’