time! But what makes you think she knows? — and that it isn’t the Dolomites?’
‘Her demeanour indicates that she knows. While nearly everybody else — to a greater or a lesser degree — is concerned for the young man’s safety, Opal, who, according to her mother, (and this is confirmed by my own observation of her), is besotted about the young man, remains serenely confident that he is not lost, but is exploring limestone caverns in the Dolomites. If that were so, why was she his only confidante? It seems unlikely, to say the least. Why not have told Binnen and Ruby? There is nothing to be ashamed of in going to the Dolomites.’
It had been agreed that Derde, whether he was in England or Holland, would send Dame Beatrice the news if Florian turned up or his whereabouts became known, so when Laura had arranged for the hotel bookings at Maastricht and Valkenburg, the addresses and dates were transmitted to Leyden Hall and acknowledged by the professor. As soon as this was done, Dame Beatrice and her secretary embarked at Harwich for the Hook of Holland. It would have been much quicker to have flown from London Airport to the Schiphol Airport of Amsterdam, but Laura had a passion for the sea and regarded the eight-hour crossing as pleasure added to the trip.
They spent a night in Scheveningen and on the following day booked in at the hotel in Maastricht and began their enquiries. At Maastricht they were told for the second time the doleful story of the four monks who had become lost among the miles of limestone quarries. Dame Beatrice affected great interest in this gruesome twice- told tale, but was kindly assured by the guide that such a thing could never happen at the present day. He repeated that heads were counted and no one was permitted to lose touch with the party.
Dame Beatrice waited until the pilgrimage was over before she gave the guide a description of Florian and asked whether he had recently visited the labyrinth. As it was late in the season for tourists and the parties had been small, the guide remembered him perfectly.
‘In fact,’ he said, ‘I remember him all the better since it was not his first visit, any more than yours. He had been to the halls and galleries before — twice before, he told me — and had particularly noted the wall-paintings and marvelled at the numbers of the bats — tens of thousands of bats, Madame, as I told you — and he said that he was most interested in all the old workings, particularly in those begun by the Romans. He asked me whether a special expedition could not be arranged to see more of the hundred thousand corridors and the eleven hundred and more cross-roads in the excavations, but I told him I had no authority to let anyone see more than is shown on the conducted tour. He offered me money, but I told him that only a small gratuity was permissible and that no large sum would tempt me to lose my position as guide. Believe me, I kept a very watchful eye on him that he did not take matters into his own hands and slip away by himself to explore where it is not safe for tourists to go.’
Dame Beatrice said that her young friend was hotheaded and reckless, and that she was relieved to know that he had been kept in order.
‘This third visit,’ she added, ‘would have been only a short time ago, I think.’
‘I do not remember which day of the week, but it was fairly recently,’ said the guide, ‘that he came.’
‘Well, we’ve established one thing, at any rate,’ said Laura, when they were clear of the caverns and on their way back to the hotel. ‘He certainly came here when he said he would. Grandmother Binnen was right enough there, and the inference is that as he failed to get an extended tour here, he went on to Valkenburg and tried there. And then, of course, he
‘I should like to find out where Florian stayed when he was here — or, indeed, if he stayed anywhere at all.’
‘A bit of a tall order, isn’t it?’
‘We can reduce its height, I think. Our plan will be to apply to the Netherlands National Tourist Office in Parkstraat 38, The Hague, and, if they cannot give us direct help, they can tell us the address of our nearest V.V.V. information office. There is certain to be at least one in the province of Limburg.’
‘Well, that will certainly use up a day, I should think. Do we hunt in couples, or do you wish us to pursue separate ends?’
‘We will go together,’ said Dame Beatrice, ‘and it will use up two days — one at The Hague and the other at the local information office.’
‘And after that?’
‘Our movements will depend upon what information we get.’
‘Which will probably be damn-all, you know.’
‘I realise that, of course, but, to employ your favourite metaphors, we must leave no stone unturned and we ought to explore all avenues.’
‘You don’t think — talking of exploring avenues — that Florian managed, after all, to elude the guide and went cruising off on his own and got himself lost, do you?’
‘I am sure he did not elude that particular guide, child, but, of course, there may be a rota. In fact, I think there would, since the caverns are open for several hours each day. Nevertheless, I shall not trouble to check that point unless we obtain no satisfaction in Valkenburg. I am most anxious not to arouse any suspicion that our enquiries about Florian are anything but merely cursory. Later on, if Professor Derde agrees, we may have to approach the police for help, but that is a step I wish to avoid as long as possible for the sake of the family.’
‘If it’s got to come to that, Gavin could do the enquiries through Interpol, couldn’t he? Save us a lot of bother.’
‘A brilliant thought, my dear Laura, and one which, I confess, would not have come to me so soon, if, indeed, it had come to me at all.’
Laura squinted modestly down her nose and waved a large and shapely hand.
‘Oh, I don’t know, you know,’ she said. ‘Still, there it is. After all, Florian is mostly English, so it’s our lot’s job to find him if he’s disappeared abroad. If there’s any difficulty, Gavin can always say that he’s wanted for embezzlement or something.’
‘I imagine that the Netherlands police would be quite willing to try to trace an innocent missing holiday-maker, but our dear Robert will know all about that.’
‘I don’t think a policeman ought to be called Robert,’ said Laura. ‘It’s tautology. That’s one reason why I always
