She wandered around the room. The light was fading and the sun, setting behind the mountain, made an impressive splash of red in the sky. It had stopped snowing. For something to do, she lowered the shutters and pulled the drapes. She then went into her bedroom and did the same thing there.
She looked around the elegant room, then remembered that Larry would be hungry when he returned. She must get something out of the freezer for him.
She went into the kitchen, opened the freezer and looked at the neatly packaged assortment of food it contained. She finally decided on a fillet of pork. That, with a packet of peas and a packet of chip potatoes should satisfy his hunger. She put the food on the kitchen table to defrost.
Then as she was leaving the kitchen, she paused, her heart suddenly racing.
A heavy pounding sound was coming from the cellars!
For a moment she stood rooted, her heart hammering so violently she had trouble in breathing.
Archer!
God! If he breaks out! she thought.
In panic, she ran to the head of the stairs leading to the cellar. The noise he was making now terrified her. He was kicking steadily against the door. He could break out!
She paused, then steeling herself, clutching hold of the banister rail, she went down, stopping at the foot of the stairs to look along the passage.
She remembered the cellar door opened outwards. From where she stood, she could see the door shaking under the steady, pounding thuds. She sped along the passage, past the quivering door and locked the steel door, leading to the garage. She took out the key. She stood staring at the cellar door and her panic increased as she saw there was a split in one of the panels.
“Jack!” she screamed. 129
The thudding ceased.
“Let me out of here!” Archer’s voice sounded breathless and vicious. “Do you hear? Let me out!”
She forced down her panic.
“Stop it! You’re not getting out!” Her voice sounded to her unnaturally shrill. “If you wake Larry, he’ll come down and I won’t be responsible!”
“Is he in your bed, you bitch?”
“I warn you! If you go on making that noise, he’ll come down!”
Through the cracked panel she could hear his heavy breathing.
“Let him! He daren’t touch me and you know it! You wouldn’t dare let him touch me!”
“I would! I know you’re lying about your heart! If you don’t stop this, he’ll come down!”
“By God! I’ll make you pay for this!”
“Shut up! If you make any more noise, I’ll wake Larry and send him down to you!”
“Damn you to hell!”
Shaking, she walked along the passage and up the stairs. She locked the door leading to the cellars and took the key. She went into the living-room and put the two keys on the overmantel.
She waited, listening, but now she could hear only the muffled roar of the central heating motor. She drew in a deep breath of relief. Her threat… her bluff… had worked! Then she thought of that split panel. If she hadn’t gone down and stopped him, he would have broken out. Well, now, if he did get out of the cellar he would have to batter down the door to the hall. He would never hope to open the steel door leading to the garage. While there was time, should she do something about the door leading to the hall?
She went into the hall and looked at the door. It didn’t seem to her to appear very strong: one powerful kick might easily smashed it open.
There was a heavy iron bound Medici chest standing under the window: yet another of her husband’s collector’s pieces. She dragged this across the door. It would be better than nothing, she told herself. She now felt so shaky, she went into the sitting-room and poured herself a large brandy.
She sat down. She was sipping the brandy when the telephone bell rang. The sound so startled her she slopped some of her drink. Hastily putting down the glass, she crossed to the telephone and picked up the receiver.
It was the Reception Manager of the Eden hotel.
“Madame Rolfe… a telex has just come in for you. Would you like me to send someone up to you with it?”
Now what? she wondered, flinching.
“No… no… please read it to me.”
“It’s from Mr. Rolfe. It says: “Have instructed expert to fix central heating. He promises action this night. No wish to cancel my flight. Telephone me when fixed”.”
Helga turned cold.
“Would you like me to repeat that, madame?”
“No, thank you. I have it. Thank you for calling,” and she hung up.
The grandfather clock that had cost Herman Rolfe more than six thousand dollars began to chime.
Helga glanced at her watch. The time was 21.25. The Grandfather clock was a collector’s piece and wasn’t expected to keep faithful time.
Since Herman’s telex, Helga had sat with a blank mind, waiting for the central heating engineer. She was now beginning to think he wasn’t coming. Inhere had been no sound from Archer. Her threat seemed to have cowed him. She had smoked innumerable cigarettes and she had drunk another brandy. She was feeling slightly light-headed, but in spite of the heat from the radiators, she felt cold.
She had pulled up the shutter covering the smaller of the three windows and had pulled back the drapes. The distant lights of Lugano and the two red warning lights on the TV and radio masts on top of the mountain helped against the growing feeling of claustrophobia.
Then she heard the noisy engine of an approaching car. She went to the window. She saw a Volkswagen, snow on its roof, pull up by the front door and a man get out. He leaned into the car and took from it a heavy tool case which he slung over his shoulder.
She braced herself and went to the front door just as he rang. As she opened the door, an icy blast greeted her, making her shiver. She had had no idea it had turned so cold and her mind flew to Larry.
“Schroder… heating engineers,” the man said in Italian. She could see the puzzled expression in his eyes as he felt the warmth coming from the hall. “You have trouble here, madame?”
“Come in.” She couldn’t bear the cold for a moment longer. The freezing air cut into her like a knife.
He stepped into the hall and she closed the door.
“I’m sorry Mr. Rolfe called you,” she said. “When I arrived, I couldn’t get the heating to work. I was being stupid. It’s working perfectly now. I’m so sorry.”
The Engineer, a middle-aged, heavy-faced Swiss, smiled cheerfully.
“That’s all right, madame. The great thing is it’s working. My boss was worried. He didn’t want you to freeze up. Mr. Rolfe was threatening to sue us.”
Helga forced a smile.
“Mr. Rolfe is always threatening to sue someone… he never does.”
“While I’m here, madame, I’ll check the motor. My boss wants to send a telex back to Mr. Rolfe.”
“No… don’t bother.” It would be far too dangerous to let him down to the cellars. She spoke hurried. “It’s working perfectly. I - I was just being stupid. I forgot to press the right button. I can’t think why I forgot’
The Engineer shifted the sling of his bag.
“It’s no bother… it’s my job.” Then she saw a puzzled look come into his eyes. He was looking at the chest pulled across the door to the cellars. She knew he had been here before and knew the geography of the villa.
“I’m sorry,” she said firmly. “It is not convenient. I am very tired and I was just going to bed when you arrived. Wait a moment.” She went quickly to her bedroom and with shaking hands, she opened her purse and took out a fifty franc note. Then as she was leaving the room, she heard the heavy thudding sounds from the cellars.