by Arnie
The clothes were his, the discreet but incredibly expensive cufflinks were his, but the title was a...shall we say 'borrowed' one. They called him the Actor. A man with a thousand faces, a thousand names. Even people who knew him well could be fooled by him. He prided himself on the fact that no one, so far, had ever been able to tell when he was being conned. The Actor even fooled himself sometimes.
He smiled at his reflection, seeing only the well-born Italian aristocrat, Count Alessandro Marano. His mannerisms had changed, as they always did, to reflect the count's personality and lifestyle. The Actor had ceased to exist: his past was forgotten, instead he remembered, as though they were his own, all the facts about the Count's life that he had been able to learn.
With the gaze of a haughty aristocrat, used to being flattered and courted, Actor surveyed the room. As a guest of the Italian Embassy in Paris, he had been given a fine room. Tonight was the night of the British Embassy Ball to celebrate the King's birthday, and also the night that Actor intended to pull off the con of his life.
~*~
Descending the stairs at the British Embassy, Actor made his way along the line of diplomats. Bowing, smiling, accepting flattery as though he was born to this life, he passed through the trial with flying colours. No one had suspected a thing. He accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and paused.
A face in the crowd, a face that he knew. And, a face that knew him.
She smiled, pleased to find an old friend on the worst night of her life, and made her way to his side.
He relaxed. She would not betray him. Helene de Bressart was one of the few women he had trusted in his life. She was also one of the many he had loved. The daughter of a French politician, he should have expected her to be here, but he'd read of her engagement to an American politician and believed that by now she would be long gone.
"Helene!" His smile showed nothing of his puzzlement.
She allowed him to kiss her hand, then paused for a second; her eyes alight with mischief and curiosity. A conman, even one so gifted as Actor, would not normally be invited to an Embassy Ball, therefore he was there as someone else. "It's been so long since we met. How have you been?"
His smiled widened. "I am very well, thank you. Naturally, after my father died, I did not socialise much. But, Count Marano has many duties, and I must fulfil them all."
She acknowledged his lead with a tilt of her glass. "I am so sorry, I had not heard about your father."
His lips barely moved, but she heard him murmur, "Alessandro."
"But," she continued with hardly a break, "I am sure you will be a fine Count, Alessandro. Just as your father would have wished."
"Helene, honey?"
"Sam!" With unfeigned, but clouded, delight, Helene turned to greet the large American who was approaching them. "Sam, I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Count Alessandro Marano. Alessandro, this is Samuel Weston, my fianc�."
"Naturally, I've heard of Senator Weston," Actor smiled. "I read of your engagement a few months ago. Congratulations, my dear." Looking from one to the other, Actor could read the American plainly. Senator Weston was obviously in love with Helene, and Actor would have bet his cufflinks that Helene loved him too, so why the tinge of distress in her eyes?
It wasn't long before Senator Weston's attention was claimed by someone else. An American senator was considered too important to be allowed to spend an Embassy Ball only socialising. Even if his fianc�e was among the guests.
Adroitly, Actor steered Helene out onto the balcony. Although the delay endangered his own plans for the evening, Actor was determined to help Helene if he could.
He gazed down into her face, allowing one real memory from the past to resurface: the day he and Helene had parted. A woman of fire and spirit, he'd known that she would have made an excellent partner in his schemes, but she was born to a different world. He accepted the dangers of his life easily, believing that the current gains outweighed the risks, he would not expose Helene to the danger of imprisonment and disgrace. He sighed, knowing the sacrifice he had made then, and wondering if he would have made the same choice today.
"Alessandro?" Helene frowned. She'd seen Actor in the middle of a con before, and never seen a hint in the facade. That rueful, worldly-wise look did not belong on the face of Count Marano.
He smiled, the mask slipping back in place, although the concern for her still showed in his eyes. "What happened, Helene?"
"To us?" she asked lightly, managing a smile although it trembled.
"No. To you."
She shook her dark head. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"
"You should have been married to your senator and in America by now. Why aren't you?"
She sighed and turned away from his gaze, the tears pricking at her eyelids. "I'm not going to marry him."
"What?!"
Actor's hand gripped her arm firmly as he turned her around to look at him. "Don't be a little fool! He's in love with you!" He saw her nod her head, even as she sighed and moved restlessly away from him, but she didn't say a word. He pulled her back to face him, refusing to let her go, wanting to demand the truth, but he stopped at the look of pain on her face. "Helene, you do love him," he said gently.
She nodded mutely, her mouth twisting as she fought to contain her tears. Accepting the large handkerchief he offered her, she dabbed at her eyes carefully. When she went back to the ball, she'd hold her head high and allow no sign of her unhappiness to escape her. She owed Sam that much at least.
Actor waited until she'd dried her eyes. "Then what is it?"
She swallowed, hoping her voice would not betray her. "I-I can't marry him." She shook her head and sniffed. "Oh, Ac-Alessandro, I've made such a complete mess of things!"
He possessed himself of her hands and held them tightly. "Tell me. Maybe I can help."
"I don't think so. It's so awful."
"Helene. If you don't tell me, I can't help you. Now tell me." Actor's voice was soft but insistent and Helene knew he wouldn't stop pestering her until he knew the truth.
"When you came in, did you meet the British Ambassador, Roger Caddington?"
"Of course."
"Well...he...." Helene stopped, obviously furious herself for being so inarticulate. "After I left Italy, I went to England. You know my mother's people are English?"
Actor nodded, not wanting to interrupt her.
"I met Roger. He was working in the Civil Service then, but he hadn't reached the giddy heights of being an Ambassador. We...well, we got involved. I was stupid and wrote him some letters." Glancing up, she saw Actor's face. "I know, never put anything in writing! He was attentive, flattering. I missed you. It's not your fault, please don't think that I'd think that! It's just that I was lonely and he'd been to Paris and Venice and knew places I knew! It was nice to be able to talk to him. To remember."
"And he has these letters?"
"He says that he shouldn't have let me go. That he wishes he'd asked me to marry him. I wouldn't have accepted. He's...he's not as charming as he appears."
"Did he hurt you? How did he hurt you?" Actor's voice was harsh and demanding. "Helene! You will tell me!"
"He...he hit me. Just the once! I left. He swore it wouldn't happen again, but he...I couldn't trust him after that."
Silently, Actor put his arms around her. His heart was pounding with his fury. That that urbane, 'charming' diplomat could raise his hand to a woman did not surprise him - he'd met the type before. That he'd hit Helene made him furious. "You did the right thing, Helene. Senator Weston doesn't know?"
She shook her head against his shoulder. "I-I couldn't tell him. Or anyone! I felt so ashamed. I left England and came home. I didn't see Roger again until he was sent here."
"He's rather young to have such an important position, isn't he?" Actor released Helene and stepped back, gazing into her face. "How did he become the Ambassador for Paris?"
"He knows people. He knows things about people," Helene explained, haltingly. It was another aspect of his character that had disgusted her.
"I see." Actor stared at the dark garden over her head, his agile mind full of possibilities. "And what does he want of you now?"
"He wants me back." Helene was calmer now she'd told the worst. "If I don't, he'll sell the letters to an American newspaper...anonymously of course! Then sue them, I don't doubt, for publishing his personal letters."
"By which time you'd be ruined."
"And Sam's career would be ruined too. I can't do that to him, Alessandro. I can't."
"You won't have to," Actor reassured her. "Leave everything to me."
"But...."
He silenced her with one finger on her lips. "I should never have let you go either, my dear. But I did. And I was right to. You were meant to be a politician's wife."
She smiled, ruefully. "I'm quite sure I would have been a success as your partner also."
His smile flashed out. "Politicians and con men, my dear. Two sides of the same coin. Now, return to the Ball, return to your fianc�. I will deal with everything."
Her gloved hand touched his face gently. "I miss you. I miss the life I could have had."
"But you love Sam more," Actor finished for her.
Her tearful smile gave him his answer.
~*~
It didn't take long for Actor to find the chink in Roger Caddington's armour. Apart from his extremely appealing habits of hitting women and blackmail, Roger believed in living life to the full - and that included drinking and gambling. Rumours of The Cad, as he was nicknamed, had been circulating for a while, but his hold over certain prominent people meant that while they held power, his position was safe. As most people have secrets they'd prefer to keep to themselves, and Roger was very good at finding out secrets, he had no worries about his future in the diplomatic service either.
Accordingly, he felt no need to be attentive to his duty as host, and as soon as the King's Health had been drunk to, he and a few of his like-minded cronies, retired to a room.
Conning one of Roger's half-drunk friends into believing he'd met Count Marano before in an Italian casino had been child's play to Actor. So, naturally, his new found friend had invited the wealthy count to the poker game.
Roger raised his eyebrows as he looked Actor up and down. The Cad was a tall man, but he was dwarfed by Actor's size. Remembering his manners, what was left of them, he muttered that he'd be pleased to have the count join them: his pleasure became more genuine when he learned that the count was an exceptionally wealthy man.
Before Actor had even taken his seat, he'd summed up his fellow poker players accurately. He realised that Roger was the most accomplished poker player, and guessed that Roger used these poker sessions as a way to supplement his income.
The stakes were high from the start, and rapidly got higher, until finally only Actor and Roger were playing. The others had thrown their hands in a while before, and once they saw that the pair were set for the night, they left. One shook his head as he left the room. Dimly he realised that Roger was dancing on a knife-edge and, while he'd enjoyed 'playing with the big boys', he knew that it was too much for him. His friends wondered why he never showed up to one of Roger's poker sessions again, and why he seemed to have got a bad case of work ethics, but he didn't care.
Roger leaned back in his chair, his hands shaking slightly. He'd never played for such high stakes before. His run of luck was mainly due to his minor ability as a card sharp, which Actor knew full well. Now that his so-called friends had gone, Actor was about to turn the tables on The Cad.
It started slowly enough, with Roger barely noticing as his winnings diminished. With a shock, he realised that the fortune on the table had changed hands, leaving him short to cover his bet.
"Well, are you in or out?" Actor asked, softly, the smoke from his cigarette wreathing around his head.
Roger looked at the money on the table, then at his hand. He had a winning hand - he knew it. He jerked his head slightly. "In...if you'll accept an IOU?"
"But naturally," Actor assured him, smoothly. "Just as, when the luck turns, you'll accept mine."
"Of course, of course!" Roger scribbled his name on a piece of paper, and added what he needed to cover his bet, then pushed it with the rest of his money, into the middle.
Actor raised the stakes again, his eyes coolly watching as Roger's sudden incomprehension at Actor's confidence warred with his own belief that he had the winning hand.
Roger's confidence won out, and the stakes were raised yet again. It wasn't until the table was littered with Roger's IOUs, that Actor finally laid down his hand.
Roger gulped, dumbstruck. His hand was good...almost unbeatable. But Actor's running flush was higher. He tried to laugh, nonchalantly, as Actor totalled up his winnings, but stopped when he heard the sum total of what he owed.
"That's-that's impossible!" he spluttered, snatching the paper from Actor's hand.
"I assure you, my addition is quite accurate."
Roger stared down at the paper, realising that, even with all his assets, he couldn't cover this amount of money. He licked his lips. "I'll give you a banker's draft to cover this," he said, casually. "Although, I'd prefer it if you didn't present it for a day or two, as I'll have to transfer the money over from my bank in England." He knew that he'd also have to take out a large loan, and hoped he could get enough to cover it all. The British Government did not like their diplomats to have large gambling debts hanging over them, and not even his powerful friends would be able to stop that blot in his copybook.
Actor's voice interrupted his panicky thoughts. "I'm afraid that's impossible. I'll be leaving for Italy in the morning."
Roger's eyes darted around the room, looking for a way out. They passed Actor then returned to him, his gaze settling along with his thoughts. The innocuous, but wealthy, Italian aristocrat had gone, and in his place sat a wolf in sheep's clothing. Somehow, he didn't know how, he'd been set up.
"What do you want?" he asked quietly.
Actor's reply was equally quiet. "Helene's letters."
Roger shrugged. "I don't know what you mean. Even if I had some letters...."
"Don't bandy words with me." Actor's voice was like a whip, slashing through his veneer of civilised behaviour. "You have Helene's letters and you will return them to me this instant."
"I don't know what you want with them," Roger pointed out. "Naturally, I can't hand some very personal letters over to anyone. Why," he tried to laugh, recapturing some of his previous charming manner, "you could do anything with them."
"I could. But you will have to take my word as a gentleman that I won't."
"Your word as a...." Roger's eyes met the Italian's and he stopped, realising that to continue his sentence was dangerous. He shrugged. "Very well. What do I care what happens to that harlot?"
He made to rise from the table, but was suddenly stopped by Actor's grip on his throat.
"If you utter one more word about Helene, I will kill you." The voice was soft but the intense hatred Actor bore for the man hissed behind his tone. With a gesture of loathing, he flung the man from him.
"Uh...I-I didn't realise...I...uh...I'll get them." Roger scrabbled to his feet hurriedly, turning towards a picture hung at the back of the room. Within seconds, he had the safe concealed behind it open, and Helene's letters in his hands.
His breath caught in his throat as he heard the count's step behind him and saw his hand reach past him to pick up all the papers in the safe.
"If you don't mind, I'll just make sure you're being honest with me."
Helene's letters were plucked from his hands, and the count returned to the table. Gathering up Roger's IOUs with a shapely hand, he crushed them into a ball and dropped them into the wastepaper basket. "Your reward." Actor flung the words over his shoulder at the quivering Englishman, before spreading all the papers out and going through them. Helene's letters, he extracted from the pile. As expected, Roger had attempted to keep a couple back for himself.
Standing, Actor turned and faced the man. "You contemptible coward!" he spat, his Italian blood boiling with fury. He stepped towards the man, then stopped as Roger shrank back behind a chair. "Ah, you're not worth the effort!" His hand reached back and grabbed for the other pile of papers. He'd noticed the names and guessed that it was due to them and their fear of exposure that kept Roger in his ambassadorial position. With a quick, almost ungainly, jerk of his arm, Actor thrust the papers into the fireplace, yanking his hand back before the flames could touch him.
Roger gasped as he saw the leaping flames devour his future. He moved, but a snapped, "Stand still!" made him stop. He was ruined.
Horror stricken, he sank to the floor as the Italian count gathered up the paper money on the table, with Helene's letters, and turned.
"If you ever approach Helene, if you ever speak to her, or whisper her name, I will find out and destroy you!" Actor snarled.
Straightening himself, the wolf disappeared and a sophisticated aristocrat took his place. With a slight bow, Actor tucked the letters and money into his inside breast pocket and left, leaving a broken wreck behind him.
~*~
Downstairs, the ball was still in full swing, and Actor was able to dance a Waltz with Helene before guiding her back out onto the balcony.
"Well?" she asked, half hopeful, half fearful.
Silently, he pulled the letters out of his pocket and handed them to her. "Here."
She gasped as she opened them, one by one, then, realising they were all there and she was safe, she laughed and cried. Actor would have put his arms around her, one last time, but a quiet, "Helene?" interrupted them.
Bowing, Actor lifted her hand to his lips and murmured, "I advise you to tell him the truth."
She nodded, tearfully. "Goodbye, Alessandro. And thank you."
Actor turned, bowed slightly to a furious Sam then left the balcony.
"What was that all about?" Sam demanded.
"Oh Sam...I'll marry you tomorrow if you still want me to!"
"Well, of course I want you to, but... Oh hell!" Sam gave it up and hugged Helene tightly. Whatever that Italian had done, Helene was looking far happier than he'd seen her in ages, so he guessed an explanation could wait.
~*~
Actor made his way out of the embassy discreetly. As he reached the cold night air, he sighed. Helene was beautiful and part of him would always miss her, but she would be far happier as a politician's wife in America than she would as a con man's wife, always looking over her shoulder. And wasn't Helene's happiness what really mattered?
He walked back to the Italian Embassy slowly, only pausing as a church clock struck three. With a start, Actor realised that it was his birthday. He half laughed at himself for forgetting, then smiled. He had made Helene happy, and he had put the past where it belonged. He couldn't ask for a better present than that.
THE END
