1975 - The Joker in the Pack Read Online Free Page B
Author: James Hadley Chase
confidence in her to continue to administer my money as I have administered it. However, I now learn that she has allowed Archer to swindle me out of two million dollars and even worse, have evidence, admittedly flimsy, that she has been misbehaving herself while in Europe. When I married her, I warned her I would not tolerate any scandal. So disturbing is this evidence, I have arranged to have her watched by a competent inquiry agency. Should ‘hard’ evidence be obtained, I will immediately divorce her.
As my executor, I want you, together with Frederick Loman, to take over control of my Swiss portfolio. I attach a revised list of bequests. As I am satisfied that Helga has betrayed my trust and that she has been associating with various men without, so far, giving me tangible proof, I have decided, at my death, that she is only to receive a tax free income of one hundred thousand dollars a year subject to the following conditions: she is to create no scandal, she is not to marry again and she is to be subjected to a snap check from time to time by a competent inquiry agency that she is behaving herself. She is to have no access to capital: she is only to receive income. She may have the use of all my houses, villas and apartments and you will supervise the accounts. She is to lose these privileges and her income if she contravenes the above conditions.
I often wonder about my daughter, Sheila. She has been a great worry to me but she did have the integrity to assume another name (which I do not know) so that her radical political interests and her distressing way of life have never sullied the Rolfe name. As a reward for this, I wish to leave her one million dollars.
Please put all these points in legal shape and send me the draft at your earliest.
Regards, Herman Rolfe.
For some moments, Helga sat staring at the letter. Her first reaction was bitter despair: not to marry again! No more affairs! The old devil was condemning her to the life of a nun! How Winborn would grin when read this letter. Evidence? Who had talked? She was sure Winborn would have her watched after Herman died. Nothing would give him more satisfaction than to see her without a nickel! After having free run of Herman’s money, spending without thinking for the past years, such an income was a pittance! And this daughter of his to get a million!
A sound made her spin around.
Rolfe stood in the bedroom doorway, supporting himself on two heavy canes. In his white silk pajamas with his skull-like head and his glaring eyes, he looked like a terrifying, revenging spirit.
“How dare you pry into my private papers!” he exclaimed harshly.
Fury, shame, fear and hatred exploded inside Helga as she jumped to her feet.
“And how dare you have me watched! Sully your name? Who cares a damn about your name? You are not even a man, you heartless computer! That’s all you are, a moneymaking computer! You haven’t shred of kindness nor understanding in you!”
Rolfe made an unsteady move forward, his eyes blazing.
“You whore!”
“I would rather be a whore than a crippled joke!” she screamed at him.
Then it happened.
Blood rushed to his face, his mouth twisted, the canes slipped out of his hands and clattered on the floor. He clutched at his chest. The agony that swept through his thin body made her close her eyes. Then he toppled forward, suddenly boneless and fell at her feet.
chapter two
W ould he die?
Helga looked at her gold and platinum diamond studded watch that Herman had given her: one of his many wedding presents. The time was 23.58.
Through the open window she could hear the murmur of voices. The arc lights for the television cameras made a pattern on the ceiling. The news had leaked: the jackal press had arrived, but the hotel manager had sealed off the top floor and all telephone calls were being screened.
Would he die?
This continual query hammered inside Helga’s head.
Hinkle had been marvelously efficient. He had
As my executor, I want you, together with Frederick Loman, to take over control of my Swiss portfolio. I attach a revised list of bequests. As I am satisfied that Helga has betrayed my trust and that she has been associating with various men without, so far, giving me tangible proof, I have decided, at my death, that she is only to receive a tax free income of one hundred thousand dollars a year subject to the following conditions: she is to create no scandal, she is not to marry again and she is to be subjected to a snap check from time to time by a competent inquiry agency that she is behaving herself. She is to have no access to capital: she is only to receive income. She may have the use of all my houses, villas and apartments and you will supervise the accounts. She is to lose these privileges and her income if she contravenes the above conditions.
I often wonder about my daughter, Sheila. She has been a great worry to me but she did have the integrity to assume another name (which I do not know) so that her radical political interests and her distressing way of life have never sullied the Rolfe name. As a reward for this, I wish to leave her one million dollars.
Please put all these points in legal shape and send me the draft at your earliest.
Regards, Herman Rolfe.
For some moments, Helga sat staring at the letter. Her first reaction was bitter despair: not to marry again! No more affairs! The old devil was condemning her to the life of a nun! How Winborn would grin when read this letter. Evidence? Who had talked? She was sure Winborn would have her watched after Herman died. Nothing would give him more satisfaction than to see her without a nickel! After having free run of Herman’s money, spending without thinking for the past years, such an income was a pittance! And this daughter of his to get a million!
A sound made her spin around.
Rolfe stood in the bedroom doorway, supporting himself on two heavy canes. In his white silk pajamas with his skull-like head and his glaring eyes, he looked like a terrifying, revenging spirit.
“How dare you pry into my private papers!” he exclaimed harshly.
Fury, shame, fear and hatred exploded inside Helga as she jumped to her feet.
“And how dare you have me watched! Sully your name? Who cares a damn about your name? You are not even a man, you heartless computer! That’s all you are, a moneymaking computer! You haven’t shred of kindness nor understanding in you!”
Rolfe made an unsteady move forward, his eyes blazing.
“You whore!”
“I would rather be a whore than a crippled joke!” she screamed at him.
Then it happened.
Blood rushed to his face, his mouth twisted, the canes slipped out of his hands and clattered on the floor. He clutched at his chest. The agony that swept through his thin body made her close her eyes. Then he toppled forward, suddenly boneless and fell at her feet.
chapter two
W ould he die?
Helga looked at her gold and platinum diamond studded watch that Herman had given her: one of his many wedding presents. The time was 23.58.
Through the open window she could hear the murmur of voices. The arc lights for the television cameras made a pattern on the ceiling. The news had leaked: the jackal press had arrived, but the hotel manager had sealed off the top floor and all telephone calls were being screened.
Would he die?
This continual query hammered inside Helga’s head.
Hinkle had been marvelously efficient. He had
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