With Noelle under his control, he could stay on with Demiris forever, if he wanted to.
She was studying him as though reading his mind, and there was an odd expression in her eyes that Larry did not understand.
It was just as well.
On a return trip from Morocco Larry took Helena out to dinner and spent the night at her apartment.
In the morning he drove to the airport to check out his plane. He had lunch with Paul Metaxas.
"You look like you hit the jackpot," Metaxas said. "Can you spare a piece for me?"
"My boy," Larry grinned, "you couldn't handle them. It takes a master."
They had a pleasant lunch and then Larry drove back into town to pick up Helena, who was to be on his flight.
He knocked at the door of her apartment and after a long while, Helena slowly opened it. She was naked. Larry stared at her, not recognizing her. Her face and body were a mass of ugly bruises and puffy swellings. Her eyes were slits of pain. She had been beaten up by a professional.
"Christ!" Larry exclaimed. "What happened?"
Helena opened her mouth and Larry saw that three of her upper front teeth had been knocked out. "T--two men," she chattered. "They came in as soon as you 1--left."
"Didn't you call the police?" Larry demanded, horrified.
"Th--they said they would kill me if I told anyone. They meant it, L--Larry." She stood there in shock, holding onto the door for support.
"Did they rob you?"
"N--no. They f--forced their way in and raped me and then they--they beat me up."
"Get some clothes on," he ordered. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
"I can't g--go out with my face like this," she said.
And of course she was right. Larry telephoned a doctor who was a friend of his and arranged for him to come over.
"I'm sorry I can't stay," Larry told Helena. "I have to fly Demiris out in half an hour. I'll see you as soon as I return."
But he never saw her again. When Larry returned two days later, the apartment was empty, and the landlady told him that the young lady had moved and had left no forwarding address. Even then Larry had no suspicion of the truth. It was not until several nights later when he was making love to Noelle that he had an inkling of what had happened. "You're s
o goddamn fantastic," he said. "I've never known anybody like you."
"Do I give you everything you want?" she asked.
"Yes," he moaned, "Oh, Christ, yes."
Noelle stopped what she was doing. "Then don't ever sleep with another woman," she said softly. "Next time, I'll kill her."
Larry remembered her words: You belong to me. And they suddenly took on a new and ominous meaning. For the first time he had the premonition that this was not some fly-by-night affair that he could get out of anytime he felt like it. He sensed the cold, deadly, untouchable center that was in Noelle Page, and he was chilled and a little frightened by it. Half a dozen times during the night he started to bring up the subject of Helena, and each time he stopped because he was afraid to know, afraid to have it put into words, as though the words had more power than the deed itself. If Noelle were capable of that...
At breakfast the next morning Larry studied Noelle when she was unaware of it, looking for signs of cruelty, of sadism, but all he saw was a loving, beautiful woman, telling him amusing anecdotes, anticipating and catering to his every want. I have to be wrong about her, he thought. But after that he was careful not to date any other girls, and in a few short weeks he had lost all desire to do so because Noelle had become a complete obsession with him.
From the beginning Noelle warned Larry that it was essential that they keep their affair from Constantin Demiris.
"There must never be the slightest whisper of suspicion about us," Noelle cautioned.
"Why don't I rent an apartment?" Larry suggested. "A place where we..."
Noelle shook her head. "Not in Athens. Someone would recognize me. Let me think about it."