Gently Continental (17 page)

What happens then? There are seven witnesses with a clear view through the door, and likely, if their testimony is taken, they will scarcely agree on two points. Certainly, Gently's body is between them and whatever the bed conceals, and certainly, his act of heaving the bed, and the sight of it rolling, may surprise and divert their gaze for a moment. Yet still there are seven, with fourteen eyes, and a well-lit scene acting before them, and they, moreover, in a degree prepared for what may and does transpire when the bed is rolled. A snarl, or cry: can they agree to that? No! Three of the seven never heard it, one describes it as a shriek, one an oath, another a groan. The knife, then? One, one only – and he saw little else beside – can fix the knife, and fix it for ever, hovering in air, like Macbeth's dagger. A kitchen knife, about a foot long – he can almost read the cutler's name for you – with a black handle, bloodied, occupying a space nor'west of the lampshade. Who saw the hand with the knife struck up? Not a soul of the seven. The karate sweep which changed to a fist-blow? Yes, it was nailed in one pair of eyes. They saw the hand raised, flat, chopper-like, saw it flash on its deadly journey, saw, suddenly, the hand ball to a fist, divert from throat to a stockinged jaw. A hammering blow! The jaw jerked aside from it, then was jerked back by a hook as crushing. All done in a never-to-be-forgotten split second: murder: murder with one hand. And the man with the knife, though none saw him with it? If the door had been closed on those early impressions? Alas for the testimony of mortals! – but two of the seven had seen him single. Four, would have been the guess of the witness who could report the knife in such accurate image, and counting heads must have yielded, two, while a vociferous three would have mocked the poll. As well these impressions could be corrected, unlike many that come to court! Four, three, two inchoate assailants are chopped as one to the bedroom floor. And now they see (and may at last agree, though agreement may hold no longer than seeing) he is dressed in black, in a black track-suit, with a lady's black stocking pulled over his head. He is dazed, but not senseless. Get up, Gently commands: Gently mighty in a fawn dressing-gown (point unimportant, yet which will be remembered with the hovering knives and oath/groans) – Get up. And the man claws to his knees: wobbles: holds out his hand: says hoarsely, Don't, don't hit me again. I won't do anything, I promise. Don't hit me. Take that thing off, Gently says. The man, who is shaking, can scarcely do this. He tugs hopelessly at the slinking nylon which rides taut over his chin. Then it gives. And so they see him. And thus they may answer, if called to witness, being asked: Do you see that man in court? – pointing to the dock, Yes: Carlo Gordini.

Carlo Gordini! For there he kneels, a mulberry bruise on his handsome jaw, his black eyes wide, expecting blows, on his hands, in his finger crooks, Frieda Breske's blood. Handsome Carlo, gentle Carlo. Whose mistress has snored through all this commotion, and who slumbers on, may slumber ever, but dream no more of lost Vienna. And Gently says to him: I was bluffing you, Carlo. Your name wasn't coming to me from America. You should have sat tight, Carlo. I knew you did it, but I couldn't tie you in yet. But now you're for it, Carlo, and that's double trouble, puts you in the same boat as Martin Breske. So you'd better help us by coming clean, because at least, with us, you'll stay alive. What did you give her? Carlo swallows, gazes, perhaps, you think, hasn't heard Gently, but then says, very low and husky, Just aspirins. Ten. To make her sleep. And the same the last time? Maybe not so many. Tonight I want her sleeping sound. While you tortured, then murdered, her daughter? – No, don't answer that, Gently says.

And still night . . .

Brother Fred, with longshores flapping around his boots, catching silverily the hurricane's yellow, sees the hotel lit up like a lighthouse. Vehicle lights sweep round and to it, each pair flashing out to sea: he counts two, three, four, but may have missed one while shaking loose the herring. Something up, he says to skinny Sid, blast, don't say that bugger is at it again. I wouldn't put it past him, says skinny Sid. They get a taste for it, that's what I reckon. Wonder who he's done this time. Brother Fred stops hauling, gazes, phosphorescence dripping from his hooked hands, across the slow sea, whose heaving hillocks splits the far lights in tremulous flakes. Get these bloody nets in, he says, Christ, it could as well be Brother Jim. If that sod has stuck a knife into him – These foreigners'll do anything, skinny Sid says. And they haul and haul, but not yet may come where the starry lights burn their message, and where others are beforehand, including, could they know, hale though unshaven, Brother Jim. Halliday has been, done and gone, bringing, leaving with Trudi, young Stephen. Has she fetched up blood? was Halliday's first question, and, being told, No, he's optimistic. Not a stab, he reports to Gently, but more of a slash, though deep. I have her blood group, which saves time. Don't think we'll have a tragedy here. And Mrs Breske? Oh, she'll live. She certainly snores as though she may. She snores down the stairs, through the hall, into the ambulance, and goes off snoring beside silent Frieda. Shelton meanwhile has come, with his leal team at his back. Staring at handcuffed Carlo, Shelton endures his bitterest pang of all this case. Because Shelton was there: he'd done his homework: had, near as a toucher, rung Gently: only hadn't, to be able to say to Gently's face, Of course, Gordini is our man, sir. And now, now . . . ! What wretched star is crossing the fate of unhappy Shelton? He had only asked to play second fiddle, just the once, to Gently's first. Stody, who guards Carlo, and asked nothing, knows more felicity than poor Shelton, though Stody, too, has his bitters: Carlo's hands wring Stody's heart.

Night: but a paling out to sea, saying dawn is not far.

I must borrow the parlour again, Gently tells Trudi, who is sobbing quietly in Stephen's arms. Into the parlour then go Carlo's hands, Stody one pace behind, hands together, steel-linked, swelled, clenched, knuckle to knuckle. Sit there. The hands sit. The hands, like a stump, thrusting out before. Carlo, his black curls sweat-limp, hunches over the hands, may not turn from them his face. You guard the door, please, Gently says to Stody, and Stody goes gratefully to that station. Prepare to take a statement, Gently says to Sally Dicks, in case Gordini chooses to make one. Sally prepares. Gently sits before Carlo. Between them the hands go tight, pull apart. The black track-suit is shadow, head, face are both shadow; alone, not shadow, the trumpet hands. Gordini, Gently says. Carlo says nothing. Gordini, listen to me carefully. You are not obliged to say anything at this time, but if you do, it will be taken down in writing, may be used in evidence. Do you understand what I'm saying? The hands lift, Carlo nods. I want you to answer me in words, Gently says. Yes, Carlo says. Sally writes.

GENTLY

Now perhaps you'd like to tell me, Gordini, what you were doing on Tuesday night.

CARLO

I didn't kill him!

GENTLY

Never mind that.

CARLO

But you gotta believe me about this! It was all a balls-up, they didn't want him killed, they were going to take care of him after I'd left. Man, they use pros when they want to knock them off, not Johnny-on-the-spot. Ain't that sense?

GENTLY

Your mission was limited to making him talk.

CARLO

Yeah, yeah, and I wasn't to mark him where it showed. They didn't want nobody poking their nose in before the stuff was out of the country. But the sonofabitch just kept on squealing, I couldn't get him to open up. And he was a strong bastard. He kneed me plenty. I'm still sore where that bastard kneed me.

GENTLY

He escaped you.

CARLO

Isn't that what I'm saying?

GENTLY

You chased him.

CARLO

Sure. He still hadn't talked.

GENTLY

Over the cliff.

CARLO

Man, could I help it which way the sonofabitch ran?

GENTLY

But you didn't try to stop him, I suppose, Gordini? Like shouting to him he was heading for the edge?

CARLO

Sure, I would have done if I'd thought, but I didn't, did I? It happened too quick. He nearly creased me putting his knee in, he knew I'd cut him some more for that, and man, he just took off like a rabbit and went straight over. How could I help it?

GENTLY

An accidental death.

CARLO

Yeah, accidental. You gotta see that. I didn't kill him. They didn't want it that way, I was treating him soft, he'd've behaved like normal the next morning.

GENTLY

And just now was an accident?

CARLO

Sure it was an accident, I'd never have cut that bitch at all. You got me wrong, mister, I'm no killer. I didn't go in there to cut her.

And his sweating face, the brows so loaded that he must frown not to spill their burden, turns up to Gently's, glistening, still handsome, though marred by a bruise and the insolent eyes.

GENTLY

What made you suppose Miss Breske could help you?

CARLO

She had a better chance, she'd know where to look.

GENTLY

She knew what you were after?

CARLO

She caught me, the bitch, I had to tell her what it was about.

GENTLY

Caught you when?

CARLO

Tuesday night. She must have been watching from her window. She saw me climbing into the old girl's room. I had to tell her or she'd've talked.

GENTLY

So she knew you were the man.

CARLO

Sure, she knew about everything. I was all shook up with Clooney and that or I might've figured an angle. But man, she wasn't going to talk, not with all that dough lying around, and I reckoned if she found it first I could soon take it off her.

GENTLY

How much was it?

CARLO

Two hundred grand. They busted a bank vault some place.

GENTLY

They were sure he brought it here with him?

CARLO

Yeah. He didn't stop running till he got here. They had a private dick pick him up soon as he set foot in this country. They're big, man, big. You don't cross them up and get away with it.

GENTLY

I imagine they don't like incompetence, either.

CARLO

(With a quick glance round.)

But you promised—

GENTLY

Don't worry. You'll be very well protected for longer than Cosa Nostra will bother about you. You were only on probation, after all.

CARLO

It's a lie! When I got to the States—

GENTLY

You were promised big things, no doubt. But I imagine Montelli was only using you.

Carlo shakes the sweat from his eyes and glares up at the Great Man, who knows everything, and who perhaps has just voiced a secret fear of Carlo's own. But the Great Man has no expression, where he sits, fronting Carlo, so large, so heavy, so monumental, allowing Carlo to destroy himself.

GENTLY

When did he brief you for this job?

CARLO

(Sulkily.)

It doesn't matter.

GENTLY

He would scarcely waste money calling you direct—

CARLO

As though that worried him! Giovanni!

GENTLY

Then we can trace the call.

CARLO

It was last month – why should I remember when? And again on Saturday—

GENTLY

Yes, of course. Your cousin was wondering if he could trust you.

CARLO

(Stares at Gently, strains at the handcuffs.)

GENTLY

With such a sum involved, it was natural. Once you got your hands on that you might well be tempted to double-cross him. Montelli gave you the job, he was answerable for you, he had pressure on him from higher up. When you didn't show results he'd get worried, maybe start using threats.

CARLO

It wasn't that way!

GENTLY

He didn't threaten you?

CARLO

Sure, all right, he was acting heavy! But that don't mean he didn't trust me, he knew I'd come through in the end.

GENTLY

But he was getting worried.

CARLO

So he was. Maybe I hadn't played it right. Maybe I should've got rough with Clooney sooner, not poked around looking for the dough. I hadn't never done a job before, I didn't figure the right way to do it, so he was getting worried, all right. That ain't the same as not trusting.

GENTLY

Did he tell you to use the knife?

CARLO

Yeah, maybe. To cut him a little.

GENTLY

In the stomach.

CARLO

Ain't that sense? It gets them scared, and it don't show.

GENTLY

And you intended to treat Miss Breske the same?

CARLO

Sure, I wasn't going to cut her bad. But the stupid bitch goes blowing her top and horsing around. I couldn't help it.

GENTLY

You seem to have been unfortunate, Carlo.

CARLO

Yeah, unfortunate. I missed the breaks. But don't never say Giovanni couldn't trust me, mister, because that ain't so. I just missed out.

GENTLY

Tell me one thing, Gordini.

CARLO