Lady From Argentina Read online

  She knew it would have been useless to refuse them entry, to tell them to go away. They would not have gone; they would simply have walked past her and entered the house whether she willed it or not. She glanced towards the street. A man went by with a dog on a leash. She could have called out to him for help, but to what purpose? He would probably have ignored the call, preferring to mind his own business.

  She gave a faint sigh of resignation. ‘Very well. I suppose you had better come in.’

  They walked into the hall and she closed the door before conducting them to the sitting-room. There were armchairs and a sofa, and they sat down without waiting for an invitation.

  ‘Got yourself a nice little place here,’ Gomez remarked, glancing round the room. ‘Comfortable. You like it?’

  ‘It suits me well enough.’

  ‘Live here alone?’

  She did not answer the question. She had been standing, but now she sat down too; not relaxed, nervous, keeping a wary eye on the two men; fearing them, fearing what they might do.

  ‘Yes,’ Gomez said, ‘I’d say you are living alone. For the present. Haven’t found some guy to share things with yet. Maybe you don’t want to share it anyway. Am I right?’

  Again she declined to answer his question. Instead, she asked one of her own.

  ‘How did you find me?’

  ‘We followed you.’

  ‘From Oxford Street?’

  ‘Oh, no. We decided we’d done enough of the tailing. We knew you’d seen us and we just wanted to give you a fright. It was our little game, you understand?’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I don’t understand. If you didn’t follow me back here, how did you find this place?’

  ‘Puzzles you?’ Villa asked, leering at her. He was not talking much. He never did. He left the jawing to his partner.

  ‘Yes, it does. Tell me.’

  ‘The answer,’ Gomez said, ‘is simple. We already knew where you lived. We were quite near the house when you left this morning. We were about to pay a call on you, and then you stepped out as large as life. First we’d seen of you for quite a time.’

  ‘I didn’t see you.’

  ‘No, you didn’t. We thought you might, but you didn’t even glance our way. That was when we decided to tail you, just for the hell of it. It took you a long time to spot us. I guess you reckoned you were safe enough in London; didn’t think anyone would find you in this little hideaway, miles and miles away from where you gave us the slip. But things catch up with you in the end, however far and however hard you run.’

  He took a small cigar from his pocket and lighted it, filling the room with the aroma of its smoke; sitting at ease in the armchair and gazing at her with mockery in his eyes.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘you came back here when you stopped following me and waited for me to come home?’

  ‘Not at once. Could have been a long wait. So we gave you some time. We called once and you still weren’t here. We gave you another two hours, and the second time we were lucky. You were in. Couldn’t have turned out better, could it?’

  From their point of view she supposed this was so; but from hers it could have been a great deal better. And there was still much to be explained.

  ‘I still don’t understand how you discovered where I was living. You haven’t told me that.’

  ‘No, we haven’t,’ Gomez said. ‘But let’s not go into that right now. It’s not important. And I don’t think we need to tell what is important. The reason why we’re here. The reason why we had to go to all that bother of tracking you down. You know, don’t you?’

  She said nothing.

  ‘You left a fine mess back there to be cleared up. You know that too, don’t you?’

  She was not quite sure what he meant by that.

  ‘Ricardo didn’t call in the police?’

  Gomez laughed. ‘Now would you expect him to do that? It never was his way. It’s not our way either. We settle things for ourselves. No outside interference asked for or required.’

  ‘So what you are telling me is that there are no police involved? Is that it?’

  ‘That’s it. Did you think there would be?’

  She had not thought so, but she had not been sure. It had been a possibility.

  ‘Must be a great relief to you,’ Gomez said. ‘Knowing you haven’t got them on your tail.’

  It was not quite such a relief as he had suggested. For though it was good to know that she had nothing to fear from the processes of the law, there remained this other threat that was perhaps far more to be feared and was certainly more immediate.

  ‘No,’ Gomez said, ‘it’s not the way we do things. We have our own methods.’ He held the cigar between finger and thumb, gesturing with it in the air. ‘You know why we’re here, don’t you?’

  She knew only too well. They had certainly not come all the way from Argentina simply to put her mind at rest concerning that little matter of the Buenos Aires police. Ricardo had sent them for quite another purpose.

  ‘Perhaps,’ she said, ‘you had better tell me.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll tell you, if that’s the way you want to play the game. There was something you took when you left that house all in a hurry. Something that didn’t belong to you. And I don’t mean just the money, though there was plenty of that too. But that wasn’t the real prize, was it? The other was what made the whole operation really worthwhile. Are you following me, sweetheart?’

  She wished he would not call her that. She was well aware that he fancied her. She had seen him eyeing her many times in the past, and she knew that he would have liked to take her for himself if he had been given the chance. But she had not been his to take. Not then. But now perhaps he was reflecting that the situation had changed and there was nothing to stand in his way.

  ‘Tell me just what it is you want,’ she said.

  He looked at her with that faintly mocking expression that she had observed before, and she thought for a moment he was going to say he wanted her. It might have been in his mind, but at the present time there was something of greater importance to attend to.

  ‘We want what you took, of course. That very precious something that our lord and master valued so highly. We’ll take that for a start.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said. But she did; she knew all too well. ‘There was nothing but the money.’

  Villa stood up suddenly, walked over to where she was sitting and slapped her on the cheek. His hand was like a piece of oak; it knocked her sideways and she gave a cry of pain.

  Villa returned calmly to his chair and sat down. He showed no anger and he had not spoken a word. It was again Gomez who did the talking.

  ‘Let that be a lesson to you. It is stupid to tell lies when you must know we know the truth. That way you bring only trouble on yourself. We have no wish to hurt you. But if we must –’ He gave a shrug. ‘Be sensible, huh?’

  She fingered her cheek tenderly. The blow had brought tears to her eyes, blurring her vision for the moment, so that she could not see the men clearly. But she saw their purpose with absolute clarity: they had come to take from her that which had cost her much to obtain. If she allowed them to do that she would be back to the kind of situation she had been in in the past, a wretched state from which she had hoped to have broken free.

  And then it occurred to her that Gomez and Villa might have plans of their own to double-cross Marquez. They might have no intention of returning that precious object to their employer once they got their hands on it. They might be planning to keep it for themselves and maybe never go back to Buenos Aires.

  She had no illusions about these men. They were motivated by greed. They were out for what they could get and would have no compunction about using whatever means were necessary to achieve their object. Nor could she expect them to give her even a third share; they would want it all.

  A feeling of resentment possessed her. Why should she allow this to happen? Why should she give in to
these scum of the gutters of Argentina? There was no justice in it. But what had they ever had to do with justice, except as a process that had on occasion put them behind bars? It was not something by which they ordered their lives, and she could expect no more of that commodity from them than she could of generosity. They were in this business to help themselves, not her.

  So she gazed at them, lightly massaging the slapped cheek and saying nothing; trying to think of some way out of this predicament that would not cost her all she had, some way of getting rid of these intruders without impoverishing herself in the process; some miracle in fact.

  And she could think of nothing.

  ‘Lost your tongue?’ Gomez asked. His gaze moved round the room, shifting from one piece of furniture to another. ‘Where’ve you got it hidden away?’

  She answered with a sudden show of defiance: ‘Why should I tell you? Why should I make things easy for you? What have you ever done for me that I should be grateful to you?’

  ‘Ah!’ Gomez said. ‘So now you admit that you have got it. Now we are making progress. Now all that remains is for you to tell us where it is.’

  ‘Go to hell!’

  Villa made a move as if to get up again from his chair, but Gomez restrained him with a gesture.

  ‘Patience, Fernando. The lady is being stubborn, but people who start by being stubborn can usually be persuaded that it is not to their advantage to remain so. We could search the house of course, but that should not be necessary. Whatever happens, in the end we shall have what we came for, because a journey of such distance cannot be made for nothing. You do see how it is, don’t you, sweetheart? We cannot go away empty-handed. That would be absurd.’

  ‘I see only that you intend to rob me.’

  ‘Rob you! How can it be robbery when we shall only be taking what is not yours anyway?’

  ‘Is it yours either?’

  ‘As agents for its rightful owner it is for us to take it.’

  ‘And you will return it to him?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I do not believe you. You mean to have it for yourselves. That is the truth of the matter, isn’t it?’

  Gomez shrugged. ‘If you wish to think that, you are welcome to do so. It makes no difference. We shall take it. We are the stronger party and you must yield to us. That is a law of nature. Now make no more trouble for yourself, but tell us where you have hidden it. Or better still, lead us to it and hand it over. What do you say?’

  ‘No.’

  Villa turned to Gomez. ‘Why do we waste time? If the bitch refuses to talk, let us loosen her tongue. No more playing games. No more sitting around and getting nowhere. Come! Am I right or not?’

  ‘You are right.’ Gomez had obviously come to the end of his patience also. ‘We have tried the easy way. Now we will do it the hard way.’

  She saw them coming at her. She started to rise from her chair, but Villa was on to her too quickly, forcing her down and holding her there. It was useless to struggle; she had no strength to equal his.

  Gomez had not yet touched her. He knocked the ash from his cigar and then drew smoke from it until the end glowed red. He took the cigar from his mouth and held the glowing tip close to her cheek so that she could feel the heat of it on her skin.

  ‘You wish to be burnt?’ Gomez asked. ‘It would hurt and it would leave a scar. You are a beautiful woman, but we could make you ugly. Do you want that – the pain and the disfigurement? Would it be worth it? We might even blind you; first one eye, then the other.’ He moved the end of the cigar until it was scarcely an inch from her left eye. She instinctively closed it, but she could still feel the heat on the eyelid. ‘Now will you tell us what we want to know?’

  She knew that she was beaten. She knew that if she remained obstinate Gomez would not be squeamish about carrying out his threat; he had probably done worse things in his time. And there would be no point in suffering the agony and the lifelong scars and even the blindness when it was certain that she could not endure the torture for ever. In the end she would be forced to speak, and it was better to do so at once, since nothing was to be gained by postponing the inevitable.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I will tell you. Take your hands off me and I’ll talk. Damn you, what else can I do?’

  Gomez took the cigar away from her face and stood back. ‘Now you are being sensible. I felt sure you would see reason.’ He spoke to Villa. ‘Let her go. The señorita has come to her senses.’

  Villa released her, though he appeared somewhat reluctant nevertheless to take his hands off the woman. Possibly he felt that he had been robbed of some rather pleasant entertainment.

  Miss Lacoste brushed fastidiously with her fingers that part of her clothing which his hands had touched, as though casting off the contamination he had left there. She was taking her time, still putting off the moment when she would have to give the information that had been demanded of her.

  Gomez made a gesture of impatience. ‘Come on then. No more fooling. It is no use playing for time. Time is not on your side. Or do you wish after all to lose your beauty? As you see, this cigar has not yet burned away.’

  She saw that she had come to the end of the road and that any more delay would so incense the men that they would go forward with the torture, come what might.

  ‘Yes, I do see,’ she said. ‘And I will tell you where it is.’ She stood up and was about to speak again when there was a sudden interruption: the doorbell rang.

  The words she had been about to utter remained unspoken, as if the sound had killed them on her tongue. The men stiffened. They and the woman remained for the moment frozen in the attitudes in which they had been caught. Then the bell fell silent and Miss Lacoste made a move towards the door of the room.

  ‘Stop!’ Gomez said.

  She looked at him. ‘But I must see who it is.’

  ‘No. Wait. They will go away.’

  They waited, no one moving, no one saying anything.

  The bell rang again. Whoever was out there pressing the button was being persistent.

  Miss Lacoste came to a decision: she darted towards the door. The men were taken by surprise; before they could make a move to stop her she was out in the hall. Both of them rushed to prevent her opening the front door, but they were too late; as they reached the hall she pulled it open and revealed a man standing on the step.

  He smiled at her. ‘Hello, Adelaide. I was beginning to think you weren’t in.’ He looked past her and saw Gomez and Villa standing behind her. ‘Oh, I see you have visitors. Perhaps I’d better call another time.’

  She answered quickly, even eagerly: ‘No, Brian, don’t go away. They were just leaving anyway.’ She turned and spoke to the other men, moving aside to make way for them. ‘Goodbye. It’s been so nice seeing you. We must talk again sometime.’

  They hesitated, and for a moment she thought they might refuse to go. But then Gomez seemed to come to the conclusion that it would not be wise, and he said in English:

  ‘Yes, we must do that. Come along, Fernando.’

  Villa looked sullen and did not move, but Gomez took him by the arm and hissed at him in Spanish:

  ‘Come! There will be time later. Not now. Come!’

  It was apparent that he had influence over the other man. Villa allowed himself to be ushered out of the house, but he shot a savage glance at the woman as he passed and muttered something under his breath which could have been a threat.

  The man she had called Brian stood back to let the others pass, and they both looked at him but said nothing. He watched them move to the gate and walk away. Then he turned to Miss Lacoste.

  ‘I hope I didn’t call at an inconvenient time.’

  She gave him an enigmatic smile. ‘Quite the contrary. You could not have called at a time more convenient for me. It was a case of being saved by the bell, as you might say. Do come in.’

  Chapter Three – Break-in

  They went into the sitting-room.

  ‘I d
on’t quite understand,’ he said. ‘What did you mean when you said it was a case of being saved by the bell?’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘it was just that I thought they would never leave.’

  ‘And you wanted them to?’

  ‘Very much.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They were boring me. Horribly.’

  He had a feeling that there might be rather more to it than that. His name was Brian Craig and he was living for the present in the house next door. He had moved in there some months earlier after a flaming row with Elizabeth, when they had both come to the conclusion that it would be best to split up – for a time at least.

  Since the flat they had been living in was hers, it was natural that he should be the one who had to do the moving, and he had taken the furnished house as a temporary lodging. He had not intended staying there for long; it was not quite his style; but when Adelaide Lacoste became his neighbour he lost all desire to be moving on.

  He caught sight of her on the day she arrived, and one glance was enough to persuade him to waste no time in making himself known to her. He thought she seemed wary of him at first, and he wondered whether she had had some unfortunate experience with men that had made her distrustful of the human male. But it was not long before the barrier came down, and soon they were getting along fine.

  Even then she revealed little about herself. He gathered that she was from Argentina but had not been born there. Concerning her parentage she told him nothing. Nor did she say what she had been doing in Argentina or why she had left South America to come to England.

  He asked no questions: if she wished to remain silent about her past that was her right; it was none of his business. But he could not help feeling more than a little curious on the subject of that past, if only for the reason that he was so interested in her. And very soon it was more than interest that he felt; it was a stronger feeling altogether.

  *

  Brian Craig was thirty-two years old, fair-haired, slightly less than six feet tall and well built. He and Elizabeth Royden had lived together for five years. There had been some arguments along the way, but on the whole it had been a good relationship. At least until towards the final crack-up.