Nightwork

We went in and were quizzed by a young man in a back room, who then called our bank in Zurich and spoke lengthily in German. He kept looking up from the phone at Fabian and myself, and I gathered that he was describing us minutely. He asked me for my passport number and luckily I remembered it. After about fifteen-minutes' conversation with Zurich, he hung up and said, 'Very good, gentlemen; the money will be ready at four o'clock.'

When we were out of the bank, Fabian said, 'I promised Lily I'd ski with her this afternoon. No need to let her in on the drama, is there?'

No,' I said.

I could use a little air and exercise after last night,' he said. It wasn't exactly a health cure.' It was the one intimation that the hours of play had not been completely enjoyable. He stopped as we reached the car, which he had parked a few yards away from the bank. 'I say, Douglas, I'm concerned about you. You do look glum. It's only money, after all. We're still far ahead of the game...'

"That's not why I look glum.' I said, and told him about the visit of the policeman. I didn't tell him about Didi Wales or Eunice or prowling around the halls.

He chuckled, as though I had told him a mildly funny story. 'Did you take the necklace?' he asked.

'God damn it. Miles,' I said, 'what sort of man do you think I am?'

'I'm only beginning to know you, old boy,' he said. 'And after all, you have been around hotels for quite a few years.'

'One hotel,' I said. 'And the most anyone could pick up there would be a pair of dime-store cuff links.' /

'May I remind you that you did better than that?' he said coolly. For the first time I realized that he could believe that I might have done it. 'Considerably better than that.'

'Oh, shit,' I said. 'Let's go skiing.'

We didn't speak in the car driving back to the hotel. It was not the happiest day of our partnership.

* * *

Fabian skied fairly well, making the right movements just a little bit wrongly. He had obviously had a good deal of instruction. He was not reckless, and I kept far enough ahead of him and Lily so that there was no conversation possible between us. Lily had started to ask me about Eunice. 'Really, Gentle Heart,' she said, 'what in the world did you do to my poor little sister to make her skulk away like a thief in the night?'

'Ask your sister,' I said. 'If ever you see her again.' 'Oh, this foehn,' Lily said. 'It makes everybody so grumpy.' She, too, with the south wind.

Sloane came into the club while we were eating lunch. He came over to our table promptly, his ski boots making even more noise than ski boots usually make. His face was florid and triumphant and he looked as though he had been drinking. I could hear his heavy breathing two yards away. I put down my knife and fork. Any desire to eat had suddenly left me.

Hello, folks,' Sloane said. 'Isn't this a great day?' 'Great,' Fabian said, sipping at his wine. 'Aren't you going to invite me to sit down with you for lunch?' Sloane said. 'No,' said Fabian.

Sloane grinned, his eyes eternally, congenitally hostile. 'That's what I like,' he said, 'a bad loser.' He dug into his pocket and dug out a piece of the hotel stationery, with a few lines written on it. 'Fabian,' he said, 'you're not going to forget this, are you?'

'Don't be rude,' Fabian said coldly. 'There's a lady present.' 'Good day, ma'am,' Sloane said, as though he was noticing Lily for the first time. 'I believe we met. Last year at St Moritz.'

'I remember you well. sir,' Lily said, abruptly eighteenth century. Sloane folded the sheet of paper carefully and put it back into his pocket. Then he turned his attention to me. He tapped me heavily on the shoulder. 'What the hell are you doing here, Grimes? I thought you broke your goddamn leg.'

'It was a mistaken diagnosis,' I said.

'Break into any more hotel rooms lately. Smart Boy?'

I looked around uneasily. Sloane's voice was loud and clear, but nobody seemed to be listening. 'Only last night,' I said.

'Pull of jokes, this boy,' Sloane said. 'He's a shoe fetishist.' He laughed hoarsely, his eyes venomous and bloodshot in their wrinkled pouches. He was the sort of man who could destroy relations between friendly nations in the space of a half-hour. The thought of our having to hand over thirty thousand dollars to this American peasant at four o'clock that afternoon made me ache.

'How's the watch trade, boy?' he boomed. 'Just as thriving as on the other side of Switzerland?'

'Fuck off, Sloane,' I said. As I spoke, I felt new blood coursing happily through my veins and my appetite returning.

He laughed, uninsultable, at least for today. 'Be careful of this feller,' he said to Fabian. 'He's quirky.' He laughed hollowly. 'Well,' he said, 'if I'm not invited to the party, I might as well ski. I stayed up late last night and I have to blow the cobwebs out. See you at four o'clock at the hotel, Fabian.' His tone was no longer joking.

He clumped out of the room. Fabian sighed. The people you have to do business with,' he said.