The Lonely Skier (19 page)

Before any of us had begun to move, Mayne had crossed the room. He caught Valdini by the collar of his jacket, swung him round and hit him with his fist between the eyes. The Sicilian was flung back against the wall, where he slowly subsided like a sack. Mayne turned and faced us. His eyes were watchful and he had his right hand in the pocket of his jacket.

‘Be careful now,' Engles whispered in my ear. ‘The pot has boiled over and he's got a gun.' His voice was excited. He turned to Mayne. ‘Those two Germans,' he said. ‘Would their names be—Wilhelm Muller and Friedrich Mann?' He shot the names out like a prosecuting counsel making his final point in a murder trial.

And the effect on Mayne was noticeable. His face looked pinched and grey in that cold light and he kept nervous watch on the whole room.

‘You put Carla in touch with those two,' Engles continued. His voice was cold and matter-of-fact. ‘She introduced them to Stelben. And Stelben was glad to use them because they were gangsters and there would be no questions when they disappeared. He did not know they were your men. When they had found out what you wanted to know, you had them arrested with Stelben.'

‘And I suppose I arranged for them to be shot in that prison riot?' he sneered.

‘You were in Rome at the time,' Carla suddenly said. She had struggled on to one elbow and was watching him malevolently.

‘It could have been arranged,' Engles said, ‘if you had known the right people. And I think you did know the right people.'

‘And why do you think that?' Mayne was watching only Engles now. He was not sure of himself. I wished Engles would leave it at that. The situation was getting ugly.

‘Because,' Engles said slowly, ‘you are not Gilbert Mayne.'

‘And who am I, then?' Mayne's left hand was clenched.

‘You're a murderer and a gangster,' Engles snapped back. ‘We nearly caught you in Naples in 1944. You had deserted during the Salerno landing and were running a gang in the dock area of Naples. You were wanted for murder and robbery. You were also wanted for smuggling German prisoners through the lines. That was why I became interested in your activities. We got you in Rome three months after the city fell. You and your girl were picked up in a
trattoria
. That's where you got that bullet scar. I interrogated you. You recognised me when I arrived here, but you thought I might not recognise you because your head was bandaged when I last saw you.'

‘This is ridiculous,' Mayne said. He was struggling to regain his habitual ease of manner. ‘You are mistaking me for someone else. My military career was quite straightforward. I was a captain in the Artillery. I was taken prisoner and after my escape I joined UNRRA. You can check the War Office records.'

‘I did that before I left England,' Engles said quietly. ‘Captain Gilbert Mayne was reported missing in January, 1944. He was believed killed in action near Cassino. Two months later he is recorded as having escaped from a German prison camp. You pretended to be suffering from shock when you reported for duty as Captain Mayne, and were allowed to join UNRRA. You applied to be sent to Greece, where there was little likelihood of your meeting up with any of the officers of Gilbert Mayne's ack-ack regiment. I suggest that Gilbert Mayne was, in fact, killed in action. Your name is Stuart Ross—and Muller and Mann were members of your Naples gang.'

Mayne laughed. It was a wild laugh. He was white and very tense. ‘First you accuse me of trying to murder Blair and planning to murder Carla. Now you—'

‘It is true,' Carla interrupted him hoarsely. ‘Everything he has said is true. I know it is true.' She had struggled to her feet. Her face was grey under her make-up and she was very close to tears. ‘You wished to keel me. You said you would find out where the gold was. You said you loved me. You said we would discover the gold and then we would marry and share it. But you lied.' Her voice trembled on the edge of hysteria. ‘All the time you lie to me. It was you who bought Col da Varda at the auction. I discovered that yesterday. And—it is you who know where the gold is. You—you,' she screamed. ‘May it do you the good it has done the others.'

Mayne went across to her. There was no doubt of his intentions. He was livid with anger. He raised his hand to hit her. And as he took it out of his pocket, Valdini, who had recovered consciousness, went for his gun. It was in an armpit holster and because he was still dazed he fumbled the draw. Mayne was quicker. He shot him before he had even got his gun out of its holster. He shot him in the chest. A little black mark appeared suddenly on the brilliant blue of Valdini's jacket, and he gave a grunt and rolled over.

Nobody moved for a moment. The smoke curled up blue from Mayne's gun. The shattering sound of the shot seemed to have immobilised us all. Valdini began to whimper and cough up blood.

Carla was the first to move. She gave a little cry and knelt down beside Valdini. We watched her lift his head and wipe the blood from his mouth with the yellow silk handkerchief from his breast pocket. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. ‘
Carla—cara mia
.' He tried to smile at her and then his head fell back, loose and relaxed.

‘Stefan!' she cried out. ‘Stefan! Don't leave me.'

But he was dead.

She looked up then, still holding his body in her arms. And she was crying. I think that was the most shocking part of the whole business—that she should be crying because Stefan Valdini was dead.

‘Why did you have to kill him?' Her voice sounded tired. ‘He loved me. My poor Stefan! He was all I had really. All I've ever had. He was mine. He was the only one who really loved me. He was like a puppy. Why did you have to kill him?'

She seemed to take a grip on herself then. She laid Valdini's body back on the floor and got to her feet. Then she went slowly towards Mayne. He was watching her and at the same time trying to watch us, the gun still in his hand. When she was close to him, she stopped. Her eyes were big and wild-looking. ‘You fool!' she said. ‘We might have killed Heinrich quietly and shared all that gold between the two of us. We might have been very happy for all of our lives. Why did you have to have Heinrich arrested? And those two friends of yours? It was all so public.'

‘The sight of that gold was too much for my two friends,' Mayne replied harshly.

Carla sighed. ‘All my life I have lived with men who cheated and killed. But I thought you were honest. I thought you really loved me. In Venice—I was so happy at the thought that we should be rich and be able to live well and without danger. Then you went away and Heinrich and your two friends were arrested. I became suspicious then. I had Stefan follow you. Then I knew that it was all over, that it was not me you loved—only the gold. You bid against me for this place. You planned to murder Stefan and myself. You are a dirty lying cheat.' She said these words without emotion. But her voice rose as she went on, ‘Now you have killed Stefan. Why don't you kill me too? You have a gun. You should not be afraid with a gun in your hand. Go on, kill me, why don't you?' She laughed. ‘You fool, Gilbert! You should kill me now—and all these others. Think of all that gold—and then remember that you are the only person left who knows where it is.' She smiled bitterly. ‘It will do you no good.
Arrivederci
, Gilbert.'

She turned and walked slowly out of the room.

We watched her go. I don't know about the others, but my nails bit deep into the palms of my hands as I waited, tensed, for Mayne to fire. His face was white and sullen and I could feel the pressure of his finger on the trigger of that pistol as he slowly lifted it. Then suddenly he relaxed and let the gun fall to his side. Carla's ski boots sounded on the bare boards of the passage outside and then climbed slowly up the stairs.

He turned to us with a smile. It was meant to be an easy, confident smile. But all he achieved was a deathly grin. His face looked drawn and hollow. His skin had a grey pallor that was not entirely due to the dim, snow-whitened light that came through the windows from the bleak world outside. And I suddenly realised that he was afraid.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment. I think he was debating whether to shoot us down there and then. I had an unpleasant sensation in the pit of my stomach. ‘If he raises that gun, dive for the table,' Engles whispered to me. His voice was tense. I glanced at the big pine table. It offered very little cover. I felt helpless and I think I was frightened. My mouth felt dry and every movement, every sound in that room was magnified so that the scene is still quite vivid in my mind.

I remember I could hear the ticking of the cuckoo clock above the noise of the wind. I believe the sound of the snow falling was actually audible, a dull blanketed murmur that was like a sigh. And there was a strange chattering noise, which I traced to Aldo's teeth. The blood was moving in a dark trickle from below Valdini's mouth, which was open and resting close against the scrubbed pine boards of the floor. One of us had spilled a glass of cognac on the bar. The little pool of liquor dripped steadily on to the floor.

It seemed ages that we stood there like that—quite still—the three of us bunched against the bar, Aldo with a cloth in one hand and a glass in the other and his teeth chattering in his bald shiny head, and Mayne standing out there in the middle of the room, the gun slack in his hand. But I suppose it was only for a matter of seconds really. A door shut and Carla's boots sounded overhead. She was in Valdini's room.

Mayne glanced up. He, too, was listening to the sound of those footsteps, and I think he must have been wishing that he had killed her whilst he had the chance. Then he pulled himself together. And it was with something of his old manner that he turned to us and said, ‘I am afraid, gentlemen, I shall have to ask you to hand over your weapons, if any. You first, Keramikos! Step over to the table where I can see you clearly.' And he motioned him to move with the point of his gun. ‘You needn't be afraid,' he added as the Greek hesitated. ‘I won't shoot you. I'll need your help in digging up the gold.'

I think Keramikos was in two minds. By a quick movement he could get behind Engles. But Engles had turned and was watching him.

‘You'd better do it before he gets frightened again,' Engles said.

Keramikos suddenly smiled. ‘Yes, perhaps it is better,' he said and went over to the table. He glanced enquiringly at Mayne.

‘Take your gun out by the muzzle and lay it on the table,' Mayne told him.

Keramikos did this.

‘Now turn round.'

I half braced myself for the shot. But Mayne walked over to him and searched him quickly with practised hands.

It was Engles' turn next. He, too, had a gun.

‘Now you, Blair.'

‘I haven't got a gun,' I said as I went over to the table.

He laughed at that. ‘Bit of a sheep among the wolves, aren't you?' he said. But he searched me all the same. He even ordered Aldo out from behind the bar and searched him. The Italian was practically beside himself with fear, and, as he came out from behind the bar, his eyes were starting in his head so that he looked like some grotesque doll out of a Russian ballet. ‘Now get that body out of here,' Mayne told Aldo in Italian. ‘Bury it in the snow and wash those boards.'

‘
Non, non, signore. Mamma mia! E non possibile
.' I don't know which he was more terrified of—Mayne's gun or the body huddled against the wall in its pool of blood. He was gibbering and quite beyond reason.

Mayne turned to us. ‘There's no sense in this animal,' he said. ‘Perhaps you'd be good enough to dump it outside in the snow somewhere so that it doesn't show and get this
cretino
to swab the floor.' He was quite master of himself again. He dealt with the disposal of Valdini's body as though it were a glass that had been smashed. ‘Do not try to go to your rooms yet,' he added. ‘I want to search them first.' He glanced up. Carla's boots were moving about almost directly above his head. ‘Now I must go up and attend to Carla,' he said. But first he went to the telephone and wrenched it out of the wall.

‘What are you going to do to her?' Engles asked as he made for the door.

He turned in the doorway and smiled. ‘Make love to her,' he said. And we heard his boots on the boards outside and then on the stairs. There was the crash of a door being kicked open and then a scream that was instantly stifled. It became a moaning sound that was gradually lost in the noise of the wind.

‘Mein Gott! He has killed her,' Keramikos said.

We stood, listening. Whatever a woman may be, it is not pleasant to hear her scream with pain and to think that she has been killed without any attempt being made to prevent it. I felt suddenly very sick. That scream and Valdini's body lying there like a stuck pig in his own blood—it was too much. Footsteps sounded on the stairs again. Mayne was coming back. He entered the room and stopped as he saw that none of us had moved. ‘What's the matter with you people?' he asked. He had put his gun away and seemed almost cheerful.

‘Have you killed her?' Engles asked.

‘Good God, no! Just tied her up, that's all. She couldn't find another gun in Valdini's room.' He nodded at the body. ‘Engles! Will you and Blair remove that. Keramikos—you come with me.'

Valdini's body was not heavy. We opened the window by the bar and pitched it out. There was a deep drift and Valdini sank into it as though it were a feather bed. I leaned out of the window and looked down at him. He was sprawled on his back, his clothes very bright against the white background of the snow and the blood from his mouth making a red stain round his head. He looked like a rag doll with a ridiculous scarlet hat set at a jaunty angle on its head. Then the snow began to drift across him and his body became indistinct. The wind was very cold on my face and rapidly crusted my head with driven snow. I stepped back and closed the window. Engles was standing over Aldo. The Italian was on his knees, swabbing up the blood with a bar cloth. ‘I think I need a drink,' I said.