Part 25 (1/2)
I would have slept past noon if the maid hadn't knocked midmorning. ”Go away,” I shouted, but she kept knocking. Finally, I flung open the door. ”Are you hard of hearing? I told you to go away. I'm sleeping. Can I do that? Is it all right with you? Is there a regulation in your tidy land against sleeping late?”
”It's not my land. I am from Romania, and I was only checking to make sure you're not sick again. They don't want some strange epidemic coming out of this hotel. There are all sorts of health people in this city; they can be very strict sometimes. Believe me, I know.”
”I'm not sick, I'm never sick.” I stuck out my tongue. ”You see? I'm fine.”
The maid was holding a few pieces of fresh linen. She handed them to me. ”Make your own bed then. I'm not going to wait around for you. My friends says I don't even have to go into your room if you've been sick.”
”It's good to have friends,” I said and closed the door. Just as I got back into bed, the phone rang.
”h.e.l.lo, Inspector, how are you?” It was Jeno. He didn't sound happy. There were undertones of urgency flowing through his voice, the way silk sounds when it catches on a nail.
”I was trying to sleep, actually.”
”It's well past noon! Your watch must have stopped. Meet me downstairs in twenty minutes. We'll have lunch.”
”Nothing elaborate.”
”Fine, nothing elaborate.”
”Nothing that has been near a lamb.”
5.
Jeno was waiting, just as he said he would. He was wearing sungla.s.ses. It was a springlike day, but not really spring; tidy clouds arranged in a blue sky, enough sun to give the gra.s.s a thrill. Technically, it was still winter, but you wouldn't hear me complain about the weather, not on a day like this.
”Let's go for a drive, Inspector. With so much sun, it would be a shame to stay in this dull town. You don't want lamb. Do you like fish? We can have lunch by the lake. Delicate fillet of perch, a bottle of white wine. Then we can smoke cigars and talk. I know just the place, in a little town called Coppet.”
”Been there.”
”Very well, we can try somewhere else.” He seemed annoyed, which gave me some satisfaction, though not enough to make up for having to dress and come downstairs.
”Good,” I said. ”Somewhere else.”
”Something the matter?”
”Nothing. I told you, I was trying to sleep; it was a rough night.”
”So I heard.”
Everyone had heard, apparently. Dilara was going to have to keep it down next time, if there was a next time. ”How about a nonperch meal? Would that be possible? I realize perch is the national fish.” I wasn't being difficult only out of spite. It had nothing to do with little, tasteless collections of bones. It was that Jeno was trying to put me in a grateful mood for some reason, and until I figured out why, I wasn't going to let things get cozy. ”One more request. This time I exit your car in the normal fas.h.i.+on, after it has come to a complete stop.”
”We're not using my car. Someone ran me off the road the other night and I hit a tree.”
”A tree? What kind?”
”A very big tree, that's what kind. I'm borrowing Ahmet's car while mine is in the repair shop.”
I felt a moment of terror as we set off down the hill. What if Ahmet was driving? There was no way he could fail to pick up what I was thinking.
”Something wrong?” Jeno asked, as he stopped next to a big, white Mercedes. It looked brand-new. The light that reflected off the hood was blinding. Maybe that explained the sungla.s.ses. ”Here we are.”
”Ahmet owns this?” Ahmet was nowhere to be seen. ”What else does he do, other than run a restaurant? Drugs? Centrifuges? This car must have cost a fortune.”
”He told me he bought it secondhand from a friend.”
”Secondhand! A hand wearing diamonds, maybe. If I were you, I'd check his friends.”
”Funny, that's just what I thought.”
I'd never been in a car like this one, and it was clear, neither had Jeno. He either drove too fast or too slow. His turns were too wide or too sharp. He tried adjusting the seat, tilting the steering wheel, changing the mirrors. Nothing helped. ”No wonder someone sold this to Ahmet,” he grumbled as we swerved to avoid a dog. ”It's a lemon.”
”A what?”
”A piece of garbage. The steering is off, the acceleration is off, and the braking is off. It feels like it was worked on by a mechanic who hated women.”
The connection escaped me, but Jeno was driving almost on the shoulder, and I didn't want to try for too complicated a discussion. Besides, the m.u.f.fler had caught my ear. ”Where are we going?” The road looked familiar, close to the lake.
”Nowhere special. I invited a friend. I was sure you wouldn't mind.”
6.
The delegation leader stood up to greet us when we walked in the door. He looked very much at home. ”Surprised to see me, Inspector?”
I was. ”Not really,” I said. We were in Coppet, which set my teeth on edge. ”Shouldn't you be somewhere nibbling cookies?”
Jeno gestured to a chair. ”Good, we all seem to know each other. That saves time. There's no a.s.signed seating here. Very informal.” Informal maybe, but not without foresight. My chair put me between the two of them, so I couldn't speak to both at the same time, or watch them. I had to turn my head from one to the other.
The delegation leader picked up a menu. ”Shall we order? If we don't do that right away, they'll think we aren't here to eat. That can change the atmosphere. The waiters get aloof, and the service goes downhill from there.” Atmosphere-he must have been born with an extra sensory organ that measured ”atmosphere” like other people felt hot or cold. Apparently, he'd been to this place before. Obviously not on his ministry's tab, so I had to wonder who had paid the bill.
Jeno ordered. We ate in silence, and I didn't think it was a comfortable one, either. The delegation leader made annoying, exaggerated gestures with his fork as he lifted the food to his mouth. He ate slowly and occasionally closed his eyes. At one point he moaned in pleasure. That ruined what little appet.i.te I had. It was doubly annoying because Jeno had ordered the perch for all of us. At last, with a final smack of his lips, the delegation sat back. ”Quite good,” he said to Jeno. He looked at my plate. ”Something the matter, Inspector? This fish was excellent.”
”Yes,” I said. ”You seemed to enjoy it.”
”More wine?” Jeno looked at my gla.s.s. ”You're not drinking?” How to explain to the man that I wouldn't touch anything on the table until I figured out what was going on?
”Who is doing what to whom? Isn't that the question of the hour?” I looked from Jeno to the delegation leader, and then back to Jeno. The napkin was heavy linen. I didn't think it could be folded into a rabbit. Maybe it could be made into a blunt object.
”Why don't we move out to those chairs on the patio. We can have coffee and smoke cigars.” Jeno signaled the waiter. ”Don't worry, Inspector, we'll find time to talk, as well. Whatever questions you have will be answered, as far as possible.”
”Sure, let's talk outside, if we can hear each other over the din of cameras clicking and recorders squealing.” I looked under the table. ”Did you bring your black bag?”