information twice – ’
‘If you don’t mention a name pretty soon, I am going to call the police,’ I said, brandishing the lamp. ‘Who the devil are you talking about? Leif?’
‘Who the devil is Leif?’ He jumped a good inch off the floor as a heavy fist hit the door right next to him.
‘He is the very tall, very blond character who is beating on the door,’ I said. ‘I think I’ll let him in. He visualizes me as a frail, wilted flower.’
Treading lightly, John moved away from the door.
‘I wonder what he has to do with this.’
‘You don’t know? He isn’t the man you’re so scared of?’
‘I haven’t the vaguest notion who he is.’ John was capable of lying with extreme skill, but this time I believed him. He was too nervous to do a good job of prevarication.
Leif kept pounding on the door. He seemed to be under the delusion that he was doing it quietly, for in between bangs he kept repeating, ‘Let me in, Vicky, or I will make a loud noise. I know he is in there.’
John sat down and folded his hands primly on his knee. ‘Police?’ he inquired
‘He says he is. I doubt it.’
‘Hmph.’
‘Vicky, let me in!’
‘If you don’t stop that, I’m going to call the concierge,’ I shouted.
The banging stopped. After a moment Leif announced, ‘I will not go away. I will stay here all night.’
‘He probably will,’ I said to John. ‘Shall I call the desk?’
‘The less attention we attract, the better.’
‘I have already attracted far too much attention.’
‘True. How do you find these people?’ I started to make a rude remark, but John cut me off. ‘The longer I stay, the worse for you, Vicky. You had better admit the irate gentleman. Once he’s satisfied I’m not here, he’ll leave. Or will he?’
I ignored the insolent leer that accompanied the question. ‘You are here,’ I said stupidly.
‘I won’t be when you let him in.’
There was only one other exit from the room – the window.
‘You can’t,’ I exclaimed.
‘How tall did you say Leif is? Seven feet? I assume he is proportionately broad, and he is obviously proportionately irate.’
‘Wait.’ I grabbed his arm as he strolled towards the window. ‘I’ll telephone the police, the manager – ’
‘And Leif the Lucky will broadcast my presence to half the population of Stockholm.’ I continued to tug at him as he paced; he glanced at me in surprise and then put two and two together. His eyes narrowed with amusement.
‘Why, darling, I didn’t know you cared. Do you really suppose I’m stupid enough to climb out that window?’
‘Then what – ’
‘It’s quite simple, really. Watch.’
He pulled away from my grasp and headed for the door.
‘Wait a minute,’ I exclaimed. ‘You can’t walk out of here without telling me – ’
‘The less you know, the better for you. Get out, go home, depart.’
‘Damn it, John, what about Cousin Gustaf?’
He stopped. ‘Cousin Gustaf will be all right.’
‘You involved him too. You’re after something he has. He told me himself he doesn’t like strangers – you planned to use me, a fictitious relative, to gain access to him. If your informant sold someone else the same information that led you to Gus, and that someone is less chickenhearted than you . . .’
In a very quiet, controlled voice, John said, ‘Bloody hell.’
Leif started throwing himself against the door. Every object in the room rattled.
‘What about Cousin Gus?’ I insisted.
John swung around to face me. ‘Vicky, you don’t get the picture. Gus is in no danger. At least . . . No, he can’t be. The – er – the object of my present quest . . . Let me put it this way. Gus doesn’t know where it is. I don’t know exactly where it is myself. The “someone” to whom you refer knows even less than I do. He can’t . . . That is, he wouldn’t . . .’ His voice trailed off. After a moment he repeated, ‘Bloody hell.’
‘You can’t even convince yourself,’ I said angrily. ‘Why the hell don’t you tell me what you’re after, instead of playing games?’
‘The less you know, the better,’ John said again. ‘All right, damn it – I’ll look after Gus. I promise.’
‘Ha, ha, ha,’ I said.
The door continued to rattle. I couldn’t imagine why no one had complained. The people in the nearby rooms must be out.
John grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. ‘I must have been out of my mind to bring you into this,’ he snarled. ‘You’ve brought me nothing but bad luck from first to last – ’
‘Well, who the hell asked you – ’ I began.
He stopped my mouth with his. The kiss lacked the leisurely finesse of his normal technique; it was hard and angry. When he let me go he was scowling. ‘I said I’d look after Gus, and I will. I’ll keep my promise, even if it brings me to a sticky end, which it probably will. That should please you.’
I saw no point in denying it. ‘Who’s the man you’re afraid of?’
‘The field director of one of the most unscrupulous gangs of art thieves in Europe. I don’t know what he looks like, since I have sincerely endeavoured to avoid making his acquaintance. However, he is said to have an unusual hobby.’
‘What hobby?’ I asked. But I thought I knew.
John’s hand seized the doorknob. He glanced at me over his shoulder. ‘He cuts silhouettes.’
He twisted the knob and flung the door open. His timing was perfect. Leif barrelled through the opening like the Cannonball Express, reeled across the room, hit the bed, and crashed down on it. The bed collapsed.
I looked out into the hall. There was no one in sight.
I COULD HAVE SAVED myself a lot of bother if I had mentioned Cousin Gustaf’s name to the hotel management. The arrival of his Mercedes brought all the higher-ups out of their offices, bowing and smiling and hoping I had enjoyed my stay. Nobody mentioned the bed.
I wasn’t ready when the car came. I didn’t get to sleep until after two a.m. Leif tore the room apart. John had departed with such celerity that Leif hadn’t laid eyes on him, and the big oaf refused to accept my statement that I was not concealing someone in the room. He made havoc among the clothes in the closet and stripped the bed down to the matress. It took me half an hour to get things in order after he finally stormed out, muttering threats and dire warnings of disaster.
More than once, as pillows went flying across the room and blouses tumbled off their hangers, I was tempted to ask why he didn’t call in his cohorts from the Department of Art and Antiquities. I controlled the impulse for the same reasons that had kept me silent earlier. After the first quick survey of the room he must have known there wasn’t anyone there; throwing blankets around was just his way of letting off steam.
I propped up the bed as best I could, but it wasn’t very stable.
I was up at eight sharp. After a quick breakfast I headed for the museum, and argued my way into the office of the director. My official card gained me admittance to the library, though the place wasn’t supposed to be open to the public till later.
I had some idea of what I was looking for, but even so it took a long time to find it. I kept wandering off into side tracks, some unexpectedly productive, others of purely academic interest. I took a lot of notes, though it was not necessary; the things I discovered had a poignant immediacy that branded them onto my memory.
Delayed by my research and by some last-minute shopping, I was still packing my suitcases when the phone
