1975 - The Joker in the Pack Read Online Free Page A

changed.”
    Startled, Helga said, “It has?”
    “Yes, madame. He also appears to be taking a sudden interest in his daughter, Miss Sheila. You may perhaps know that Mr. Rolfe and she quarreled. She left home and for the past three years has not communicated with him.”
    “I heard something about it,” Helga said tensely.
    “This draft letter to Mr. Winborn, madame, gives Mr. Winborn instructions about a new will. What Mr. Rolfe does with his money is no concern of mine. However, in view of your constant attention to Mr. Rolfe and in view of a subsequent happening, I felt you should be forewarned.”
    “What subsequent happening?” Helga was unaware that her voice had turned husky.
    “I regret to tell you, madame, that I overheard Mr. Rolfe on the telephone yesterday giving instructions to a private inquiry agency to have you watched. Knowing you are deserving of Mr. Rolfe’s trust, I consider this so disgraceful I can only assume that Mr. Rolfe has become mentally ill.”
    A private inquiry agency! Helga turned cold. She stared down at her hands while she struggled to absorb the shock.
    “Mr. Rolfe is now in bed,” Hinkle said, slightly lowering his voice. “I have given him a sedative. The draft letter to Mr. Winborn which I think you should see is in the lower right hand drawer of his desk. It has yet to be initialed.”
    She looked up.
    “Thank you, Hinkle.”
    He moved towards the door.
    “There is such a thing as justice, madame,” and he left the room.
    After some fifteen years of the ruthless cut-and-thrust of modern business, Helga had acquired the capacity of weathering shocks, disasters and even catastrophes, and she had experienced a few. She now absorbed this shock quickly. Cold fury gripped her as her shrewd brain went into action. How had Herman become suspicious? She didn’t believe for a moment Hinkle’s theory that Herman was mentally ill. Had he heard some gossip? Had he received an anonymous letter? She had been so careful in her sexual adventures. She thought of Hinkle. Knowing you are deserving of Mr. Rolfe’s trust . Kind, nice minded Hinkle! She finished her drink, then lit a cigarette. To be watched by some sleazy investigator! But that wasn’t the immediate problem. Herman had written a letter, changing his will, to Stanley Winborn, the head of his legal department: a tall, forbidding stick of a man whom she hated, who she knew strongly disapproved of her marriage and who had been nearly ill with jealousy when Rolfe had given Archer his Swiss portfolio.
    She must know what she was facing. She must see this letter. Forewarned and forearmed. She recalled her father’s cliché. Without hesitating, she stubbed out her cigarette and made her way to Herman’s suite. Entering the living room, she moved silently to the bedroom. The door stood ajar. She looked in. Herman lay motionless. A soft light cast a glimmer on the worn, hard face. The eyes, usually hidden behind the big black goggles were closed. She felt a tremor run through her. Except for the slight rise and fall of the sheets covering him, he could have been dead.
    Softly, she said, “Herman?”
    He didn’t move.
    Turning, she went silently to the big desk that stood in the bay window. Opening the lower right hand drawer, she found a red leather folder. Placing it on the desk, she switched on the shaded lamp.
    Her heart was beating unevenly as she opened the folder. There was the letter:
    My dear Winborn .
    The writing was small, neat and easy to read. Her eyes raced along the lines.
    Re: my will.
    I have reason to believe that Helga is no longer fit nor deserving to inherit my fortune nor to handle my Swiss portfolio. In spite of your advice which I now regret ignoring, I made a will (in your keeping and which must be destroyed on receipt of this letter) giving her complete control of some sixty million dollars. When I made this will Helga had so impressed me with her honesty and financial acumen that I had complete