Free 1980 - You Can Say That Again by James Hadley Chase Page B

trolley.
    ‘That smells very good, Mazzo,’ I said in Ferguson’s voice. ‘I hope it’s as good as it smells.’
    He was setting the table and he let fall the cutlery as he whirled around and gaped at me.
    ‘Jesus! You gave me a start!’ he exclaimed. ‘I could have sworn . . .’
    ‘Hurry it up, Mazzo,’ I said, still with Ferguson’s voice. ‘I’m hungry.’
    He stood gaping.
    ‘You sound just like the Boss,’ he said.
    ‘That’s the idea.’ I sat at the table. By my plate was another one thousand dollar credit note. As I put it in my wallet, I said in my own voice, ‘Come on, Mazzo, don’t stand there like a stricken bull. I’m hungry.’
     
    * * *
     
    I spent the afternoon, wearing the mask, playing tennis with Mazzo.
    There were four tennis courts at the back of the house, screened by high hedges. Mazzo was in the pro class and I was lucky to take two games off him in three sets. While I was retrieving a ball, I happened to glance up and saw Loretta, standing on a balcony, watching me. I gave her a wave, but she didn’t wave back. When next I looked, she had gone.
    The game over, Mazzo and I walked back to the house.
    ‘If we run into the butler,’ Mazzo said, ‘keep going. His name is Jonas. He’s near sighted, and old enough to be dead.’
    As we entered the vast hall, I saw a tall, dignified negro with snow white hair, crossing to the main living room.
    ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Ferguson,’ he said, pausing. ‘May I say it is good to see you again?’
    I waved in his direction and headed for the stairs.
    In Ferguson’s voice, I said, ‘Good to be back, Jonas.’
    When we reached the head of the stairs, Mazzo said, ‘Very nice. You’re doing fine.’
    He left me in my suite and I took off the mask and had another shower. Then putting on a short toweling coat, I stretched out on the enormous bed. I idled the time away with my thoughts.
    At 19.00, as I was dozing, I heard a buzzing sound.
It came from the living room. I slid off the bed and saw a red light flashing on the intercom on the desk. I thumbed down the switch, and said in Ferguson’s voice, ‘What is it?’ Then having an idea it was Loretta, I went on. ‘Is that you, Etta? I was waiting to hear
    from you.’
    I heard a quick intake of breath.
    ‘Marvelous!’ she said. ‘Tonight, we will have dinner with Mr. Durant at nine o’clock in the dining room. Wear the mask. Mazzo tells me Jonas was completely fooled. This is the big test . . . John,’ and she cut off.
    This called for a very dry Martini. I went to the cocktail cabinet, but there was no ice. I hesitated for a moment, then going to the intercom, read off the print under the various buttons. I saw ‘Butler’ and pressed the switch. After a moment’s delay, Jonas answered.
    ‘I have no ice, Jonas,’ I said in Ferguson’s voice.
    ‘It is in the lower compartment of the cabinet, sir,’ he told me. ‘I will come immediately.’
    I cursed myself for being so stupid.
    ‘No, don’t do that. I’m busy. It’s all right,’ and I switched off.
    That’s what comes of being too confident, I told myself, opening the door of the compartment below the rows of bottles. Here, I found a well-stocked refrigerator.
    What would he think? I wondered uneasily.
    As I was mixing the drink, there came a tap on the door. Hurriedly moving to the window, my hands clammy, I called to come in.
    ‘Sir, may I make you a drink?’ Jonas asked.
    Still keeping my back turned for I wasn’t wearing the mask, I shook my head.
    ‘It’s all right. Thanks. Just leave me. I’m busy.’
    ‘Yes, Mr. Ferguson,’ and I heard the door close.
    I drank three quarters of the Martini, set down the glass and wiped my face with my handkerchief, then I finished the drink and made another.
    I was back on even keel, plus three Martinis, when Mazzo appeared a few minutes past 20.00.
    ‘Big deal, Mr. Ferguson,’ he said, grinning. He went to one of the closets and took from it a tuxedo outfit. ‘It’s