Nightwork

The two ski teachers took the next chair down. Honorary pallbearers, in bright jackets, descending into the valley to help dispose of the dead.

I went back into the club, where Lily was finishing her coffee, and ordered two brandies.

20

When I got back to the hotel, I was told by the concierge that Mr Fabian expected me to come up to his room. It was late in the afternoon. Lily and I had had several more brandies, sitting in silence as the restaurant slowly emptied. Death makes for long lunches.

I had left Lily at the hairdresser's. 'No sense,' she had said, 'in wasting the whole afternoon.' We had taken the chair lift out of a sense of decorum. Skiing down, we agreed, after what had happened, would have seemed frivolous. Neither of us had spoken of Eunice.

'What was the last thing you said to the man?' Lily asked as we swung slowly toward the shadowed valley.

Fuck off,' I said.

She nodded. "That's what I thought you said. Hail and Farewell.' She gestured toward the peaks in the distance, still glowing in sunlight. The eagle, if that was what it was, was back on station, patrolling the neutral Helvetian air. "There are worse places to die.' She chuckled. 'And worse last words. If there's any justice, he cut that wife of his out of his will.'

I'm sure he didn't.'

'I said, if there's any justice.'

'Do you think your husband has cut you out of his will?'

'Don't be so American,' she said.

We left it at that.

On the way back to the hotel I stepped off at a shop and bought myself a topcoat. Didi Wales was welcome to her memento. It was a small price to pay for her absence.

* * *

Fabian was packing when I arrived at the suite he shared with Lily. He did not travel light. There were four big suitcases scattered around the two rooms. As usual, there were newspapers everywhere, opened to the financial pages. He packed swiftly and neatly, shoes in one bag, shirts in another, in crisp perfect piles. 'I'm accompanying the body home,' he «aid. 'It's the least I can do, don't you think?'

'The least,' I said.

'You were correct,' he said. 'The IOU was in the left pocket. The formalities will all be taken care of before this evening. The Swiss are very efficient when it comes to getting a dead foreigner out of the country. He was only fifty-two. A Choleric man. Premature destruction. A lesson for us all. I called his wife. She took the news bravely. She's going to meet us - the coffin and myself - at Kennedy tomorrow-She's making the necessary dreary arrangements. By the way, do you happen to know where Lily is?'

'Getting her hair done.'

'Unflappable girl. I admire that in her.' He picked up the phone and asked for the hairdresser's. While he was waiting for the call to be put through, he said. 'Would you mind driving us down to Geneva tomorrow?'

'If the police let me out of town,' I said. They still have my passport.'

'Oh,' Fabian said, 'I nearly forgot.' He took my passport out of his pocket and tossed it onto a table. 'Here it is.'

'How did you get it?' Somehow I was not surprised that he had it. Partially against my will he had established himself in my imagination as a looming father-figure, capriciously powerful, solver of problems and mysteries, mover of men and laws. I thumbed through the passport to see if there was anything added or missing. I could see nothing to indicate that I had been suspected of crime.

The assistant manager gave it to me when I came in,' Fabian said carelessly. They found the necklace.'

'Who stole it?'

'Nobody. The lady had it stuffed in a ski boot for safe keeping and forgot where she'd put it. Her husband found it this afternoon. The assistant manager was writhing in apology. There's a large bouquet of flowers and a magnum of champagne waiting for you in your room as a sign of the hotel's mortification. Hello, hello,' he said into the phone, 'may I speak to Lady Abbott please?' Then to me. 'You don't mind being left alone for a few days, do you?' 'Frankly,' I said 'nothing could please me more.' He arched his eyebrows. 'Well...' he said. 'I feel as though I've been running cross-country for weeks,' I said. 'I could use a little holiday.'

'I thought you were enjoying yourself.' There was a touch of reproach in his voice.

'Everybody to his own opinion,' I said. 'Lily,' Fabian said into the phone, 'I have to go to America tomorrow. Two or three weeks, at the outside. Do you want to come?' He listened for a moment, smiled. 'That's my girl,' he said. 'You'd better get back rather quickly and start packing.' He hung up. 'She loves New York,' he said. 'We'll be staying at the St Régis. In case you want to keep in touch.' 'Roughing it, aren't you?'

He shrugged, went back to his packing. 'It's convenient,' he said. 'And I like the bar. Actually, even if this hadn't come up, I would have had to fly over in a day or two anyway. I want to put together the chalet deal and just about everybody I can think of is on the East Coast. I may have to go down to Palm Beach for a week or so, too. After the funeral.' 'Rough country.'