Read 1975 - The Joker in the Pack for Free Online Page B

him, she thought, then in two or three months’ time he would tell Winborn about his letter.
    Well, a lot could happen in two or three months. She still had control of the Swiss portfolio: the stocks and bonds amounted to some fifteen million dollars. This was something she had to think about. She did her best thinking at night. So tonight, in bed, she would review her future. At the moment, it seemed to her she was holding trump cards: Herman unable to speak for say two months, the damning letter in her possession and the control of fifteen million dollars: all trump cards.
    She went into her bedroom and changed into a bikini. She put on her beach wrap, then called the hall porter.
    “A beach buggy, please.”
    “Certainly, Mrs. Rolfe: three minutes.”
    If ever Herman regained his speech, this V.I.P. treatment would abruptly end. If she had asked for a sixty-ton motor yacht there would have been no problem, but the magic key was trembling in balance.
    When she left her suite she noticed the two security guards had gone. This gave her a feeling of relief. Until Herman died, he and she were no longer news.
    She drove on to the beach, waving to the saluting policeman who had stopped the traffic for her, then she headed away from the crowd towards the deserted, distant dunes.
    As she drove by the row of huts, she remembered Harry Jackson. Up to this moment he had gone completely out of her mind, but seeing the huts, remembering he had told her he had rented one of them, made her think of him with regret.
    The morning’s newspapers had carried photographs of her. By now Harry Jackson would know she Mrs. Herman Rolfe. He was no longer safe to have an affair with. In spite of his frank, friendly face, she knew now she could take no risks and also there could now be no affairs in Nassau. She remembered she was being watched. She glanced over her shoulder. No one was following her. The empty beach stretched behind her, but that didn’t mean someone with powerful field glasses wasn’t keeping track of her. She felt a little spurt of fury. It was only in Europe that she really could be safe. Certainly not in Paradise City: that was the last place in which to misbehave.
    She must find some excuse for a quick return to Switzerland as soon as she could. It would be difficult, but no impossible.
    Leaving the beach buggy in the shade of a palm tree, she ran into the sea and swam vigorously, then turning on her back, she floated, letting the gentle swell rock her until, feeling the bite of the sun, she walked across the sand and sat down in the shade of the palm.
    “Hi!” Harry Jackson, smiling, sun goggles in hand, wearing only swim trunks, came across the sand and joined her. “Do you always stand up your dates?”
    She looked up at him, her eyes taking in the tanned muscular body and fierce desire stabbed through her like the cruel thrust of a knife. She was glad she had put on her sun goggles for she was sure he would have seen the naked desire in her eyes.
    “Hello,” she said. “I’m sorry about last night.”
    “I was kidding.” Jackson dropped down by her side, stretched out his long legs and rested himself on his elbows. “I’m sorry about your husband, Mrs. Rolfe.”
    Another escape, she thought. If I had gone out with this man last night we would have been lovers by now and that would have been very dangerous, he knowing who I am.
    “You have been reading the newspapers?” she said, staring across the beach wondering if anyone was watching.
    “Sure. I keep up-to-date.” He smiled at her. “The most beautiful woman in the millionaire stakes: that’s how they described you and I guess they’re right.”
    “There are other more beautiful women. Liz Taylor . . .”
    “I haven’t met her so I wouldn’t know.” Jackson dug up a handful of dry sand and let it run through his fingers. “How is your husband, Mrs. Rolfe? From the papers, he sounds real bad.”
    She was certainly not going to discuss Herman’s