Nightwork

'I'd rather not, if you don't mind.' I gestured toward the suitcase, which I had deposited in the middle of the room. 'I'd just like you to open your bag and check that nothing's missing....'

'My bag? My dear fellow, I never...'

'I'm sorry about the broken lock...' I kept on talking. I did it before I realized I had the wrong one.'

'I just don't know what you're talking about. I never saw that bag before in my life.' If he had rehearsed a year for this moment, he couldn't have been more convincing.

'When you've finished and you're satisfied that I've taken nothing,' I said, 'I'd be obliged if you brought out my bag. With everything that was in it when you picked it up in Zurich. Everything.'

He shrugged. 'This is absolutely bizarre. If you want, you can search the apartment and see for yourself that...'

I reached into my pocket and took out Lily Abbott's letter.

"This was in your jacket,' I said. I took the liberty of reading it.'

He barely glanced at the letter. 'This is getting more and more mysterious, I must say.' He made a charming, deprecating gesture, too much of a gentleman to read another man's mail. 'No names, no dates.' He tossed the letter on a table. 'It might have been written to anyone, by anyone. Whatever gave you the idea that it had anything to do with me?' He was beginning to sound testy now.

'Lady Abbott gave me the idea,' I said.

'Oh, really,' he said. 'I must confess, she is a friend of mine. How is she anyway?'

'Ten minutes ago, when I saw her in the lobby, she was well,' I said.

'Good God, Grimes,' he said, 'don't tell me Lily is here in the hotel?'

'That's enough of that,' I said. 'You know what I'm here for. Seventy thousand dollars.'

He laughed, almost authentically. 'You're joking, aren't you? Did Lily put you up to this? She is a joker.'

'I want my seventy thousand dollars, Mr. Fabian,' I said. I made myself sound as menacing as possible.

'You must be out of your mind, sir,' Fabian said crisply. 'Now I'm afraid I must go.'

I grabbed him by the arm, remembering the wall-eyed man in the arcade in Milan. 'You're not leaving this room until I get my money,' I said. My voice rose and I was ashamed of the way I sounded. It was a situation for a basso and I was singing tenor. High tenor.

'Keep your hands off me.' Fabian pulled away and brushed fastidiously at his sleeve. 'I don't like to be touched. And if you don't get out right away, I'm calling the management and asking for the police....'

I picked up a lamp from the table and hit him on the head. The lamp shattered with the blow. Fabian looked surprised as he sank slowly to the floor. A thin trickle of blood ran down his forehead. I took out my paper knife and knelt beside him, waiting for him to come to. After about fifteen seconds be opened his eyes. The expression in them was vague, unfocused. I held the sharp, needle-like point of the stiletto to his throat. Suddenly, he was fully conscious. He didn't move, but looked up at me in terror.

'I'm not fooling, Fabian,' I said. I wasn't, either. At that moment, I would have happily killed him. I was trembling, but so was he.

'All right,' he said thickly. 'There's no need to go to extremes. I took your bag. Now let me up.'

I helped him to his feet. He staggered a little and sank into an easy chair. He felt his forehead and looked apprehensively at the blood smeared on his hand when he took it away. He pulled a handkerchief from his breastpocket and dabbed at his forehead. 'Good God, man,' he said weakly, 'you could have killed me with that lamp.'

'You're lucky,' I said.

He managed a little laugh, but he kept looking at the stiletto in my hand. 'I've always detested knives,' he said. 'You must be awfully fond of money.'

'Average fond,' I said. 'About like you, I guess.'

'I wouldn't kill for it.'

'How do you know?' I asked. I stroked the blade of the little weapon with my left hand. 'I never thought I would either. Until this morning. Where is it?'

'I don't have it,' he said.

I took a step toward him, threateningly.

'Stand back. Please stand back. It's ... well ... Shall we say that I don't have it at the moment, but that it's available? Please don't wave that thing around anymore. I'm sure we can come to terms without further bloodshed.' He dabbed at his forehead again.

Suddenly the reaction set in. I started to shake violently. I was horrified at what I had done. I had actually been on the point of murder. I dropped the stiletto on the table. If Fabian had said at that moment that he refused to give me a cent, I would have walked out the door and forgotten the whole thing. 'I suppose,' he said quietly, 'at the back of my mind I realized that one day someone would come in and ask me for the money.' There was an echo there that I could not help but recognize. How had Drusack behaved in his desperate hour? 'I've taken very good care of it,' Fabian said, 'only I'm afraid you'll have to wait awhile.'

'What do you mean - wait awhile?' I tried to keep my tone menacing, but I knew I wasn't succeeding.