“I don’t know. Presumably, but it’s not certain. She was going to check it out, the message said.”
“Check it out?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I’ve no idea,” said Munster.
“Do you still have the note?” asked Bausen.
Munster nodded and produced the envelope from his inside pocket. From the corner of his eye he noticed that Van
Veeteren was watching him closely, and he knew he was blush ing. There was nothing he could do about it, of course, and naturally, it didn’t mean anything in the circumstances. He cer tainly hadn’t slept for more than two hours, and ever since get ting up, he’d had this image of the conference room in his mind’s eye. Either she would be sitting there in her usual place in front of the bookcase… or she wouldn’t. Either it had just been a man, or it had been… another sort of man. He hardly dared to admit, even to himself, that he had felt a faint glow of satisfaction on discovering that it was not the first alternative.
Just a man! Of course that reaction had immediately been swamped by all the possible implications of the other alterna tive, but it had certainly been there, and undeniably gave him something to think about.
Bausen read the note. Passed it on.
“I’ve already seen it,” said Van Veeteren when it came to him. Munster took it back.
“ ‘Home by about eight,’ ” said Bausen. “Hell and damna tion! You don’t think that-?”
“What did it say?” asked Kropke. “ ‘Rather bizarre’?”
“ ‘Pretty bizarre, but I need to check it out,’ ” said Munster.
Bausen took out his pipe and sat there with it in his hand.
The silence in the room was almost tangible. Bang was chew ing gum. Van Veeteren was devoting meticulous attention to two toothpicks, comparing them in detail, before dropping one into his breast pocket and sticking the other between his front teeth. Kropke was drumming his fingertips against one another, and Mooser was gazing out the window.
Good Lord! thought Munster. They’re all seeing her in their mind’s eye! He swallowed, and felt something cold and wet creeping up into his throat. There was a cramplike convul sion in his diaphragm.
“Excuse me,” he managed to blurt out as he stood up and hurried to the toilet.
“Kropke,” said Bausen, “go to your office and phone her.”
Kropke did as he was bidden. Van Veeteren removed the toothpick.
“Not much point,” he said. “We’ve already tried twice from the hotel. You noticed the form of address, I suppose?”
Bausen nodded and went over to the window. He rubbed at his stubble as he contemplated the back courtyard, breathing heavily. Munster and Kropke returned. Kropke shook his head.
“No reply,” he said. “What does everybody think?”
“Podworsky?” said Bausen, turning around to face the room. “Do you really think that she’d get it into her head to drive out to Podworsky’s place?”
Kropke cleared his throat.
“No,” he said. “That would be most unlike her, in fact-”
“Sheer lunacy,” said Mooser. “Nobody in his right mind would go there of their own volition. Not even in normal cir cumstances. If in addition you suspect he might be the Axman,
I can’t understand why-”
But now Munster had had enough.
“Stop!” he yelled, hitting the table with his fist. “Dammit, it’s time we did something instead of sitting here chewing the cud! All we need to do is to get in a car and drive out to this bas tard! What are we waiting for?”
Bausen looked at him with eyebrows raised.
“I really believe-” he began.
“Bravo, Munster!” interrupted Van Veeteren. “I’m inclined to agree with you. A bit of action is called for.”
Munster leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“That’s OK,” said Bausen. “This is really ugly. If we’re going to-”
“Just a minute,” said Van Veeteren, leaning over the table. “I think we need to clarify a few things before we take any action.
In the first place, I don’t think it’s especially likely that Inspec tor Moerk did, in fact, drive out to Podworsky’s place. In fact,
I’d go so far as to say it was out of the question.”
“Why?” asked Kropke.
“The time,” said Van Veeteren. “She didn’t have enough time. She left here when the rest of us went, didn’t she?
Around about half past four, or thereabouts?”
Kropke and Mooser nodded.
“She had the Melnik report in her briefcase just like we all did. At twenty past six, according to the receptionist, she handed over the message at The See Warf. It said she intended to check something out. Notice that she hadn’t yet done so she wouldn’t have had time to do anything but read through the report and change into her tracksuit between half past four and twenty past six.”
“True,” said Bausen.
“Whatever it was she intended to check out, she did it after leaving the hotel-between half past six and a quarter past seven, roughly. Forty-five minutes, in other words.”
“A quarter past seven? How do you know that?” asked
Kropke.
“Because I saw her,” said Van Veeteren.
“Saw her?” bellowed Bausen. “Where?”
Van Veeteren bit off the toothpick.
“I saw her on the beach… at a quarter past seven.”
“What was she doing there?” wondered Mooser.
“Running,” said Van Veeteren. “Westward.”
Silence again.
“Expected to be back home by eight,” said Munster.
“Was she alone?” asked Kropke.
Van Veeteren shrugged and looked at Munster.
“Yes,” he said. “All by herself-I think it might be a good idea for Munster and me to go and take a look. Maybe we could take Mooser with us?”
Bausen nodded.
“Back in two hours?” he suggested. “I think Kropke and I will take a little trip out to Podworsky’s place in the mean time-to see how the land lies, if nothing else.”
“Is that it?” asked Van Veeteren.
Mooser nodded.
“Sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” said Mooser. “It’s hers. Mazda 323 I’ve even helped her change the fan belt.”
“It’s hers,” muttered Munster.
“Hmm,” said Van Veeteren. “It was more or less down there that I saw her-two or three hundred yards from here, I should think.”
He pointed toward the beach. It was no longer the deserted stretch of sand it had been the evening before. It was Saturday, and masses of men, women and children were sauntering about down below. A group of long-haired youths were play ing football, dogs were romping around, and several kites were bobbing about in the wind-yellow trembling lumps of butter against the practically clear blue sky. The clouds, the mist and showers of the last few days seemed to have blown away dur ing the night; the gulls were soaring high again and the air felt pure. Salty
