The Other Side of Silence

“Look, Gunther, I’m not armed. In spite of any evidence to the contrary, guns are always a mistake in this business. They’re generally a sign that negotiations have failed.”

“Is that what you call it? They’ll be asking you to address the UN General Assembly next.”

“There’s very little here but do go ahead and search. You’ll find the envelope with the prints and the neg on top of the chest of drawers. As I agreed with Herr Maugham. And I really don’t have anything else for sale. Fifty thousand dollars-I assume it’s in the flight bag-is a big score for me. Enough to retire on.”

I found the envelope, and having established the promised contents were indeed there, I opened the drawers and generally had a good look around his room. It was a nice room, with a fine view of the harbor. Nothing as grand as the Grand, but nice and comfortable and tastefully decorated. I almost preferred it.

“One thing I learned with the Berlin police,” I told him. “Money’s like a state pension. There’s never enough to retire on. Especially when you’re a crook.”

“I suppose you’re not going to pay me now.”

“That’s the general idea, smart guy.”

“But you still brought the money. You went to the house and fetched the money and now you’re here. Which must mean-no, don’t tell me that you’re planning to keep it yourself?”

“I thought about it.”

“Suppose I tell Mr. Maugham.”

“Suppose I slap your mouth with this pistol. Dentists aren’t so easy to find on a Sunday evening.”

“You know we could split the money. Fifty-fifty. With my silence guaranteed.”

“That would mean me becoming your partner. And that’s not going to happen, not after what happened in Konigsberg.”

“Ah. I was wondering when we’d get to that.” He shook his head. “Look, that was all a very long time ago.”

“Hard to forget, though.”

“Perhaps you should try. If you’d read my letter in the drawer at the Grand you’d have seen my apology for that. Not that this matters very much. We’re all friends in Europe now, aren’t we? Allies in the struggle against world Communism?”

“The way I figure it is this. With or without the fifty thousand dollars, you’ll either come back with something else you want to sell, or you won’t. A print you kept back. Or something altogether different. A letter, perhaps. Simple as that. My guess is that you will be back. Because you people always come back. I haven’t forgotten the way you and that bastard Otto Schmidt squeezed poor Captain von Frisch for five years. I don’t think you’re the kind of leopard who knows where to buy a tin of paint or find a good plastic surgeon.”

“Suppose I tell the police who you really are?”

“And suppose I tell them exactly how you know that? Involving the cops is bad for us both, and you know it. My guess is that we’re both wanted men, in one half of Germany or the other. Frankly, you should be glad I don’t put a hole in you, which is what you deserve.”

“My dead body would be a little hard to explain.”

“People have disappeared from this hotel before. During the war the Resistance met here.”

“Oh. Well, it can’t have been very effective, that’s all I can say. I seem to recall this part of France was Nazi in all but name. Don’t you agree?”

“I think it’s time that you started answering the questions, not me.”

“I’ve got nothing to say that you don’t already know.”

“I don’t think so. When you squeeze a lemon, you flex your fist more than once.”

“Not this time.”

I picked up a pillow, folded it over the Sig, and pointed it at the heel of one of his handmade shoes.

“You’re not serious.”

“Let’s start with where you got the picture.”

“You know what these queers are like. Can’t trust any of them.”

“A name.”

“Louis Legrand.”

“Where did you buy it? Here in France? Where?”

“Here in France. In Nice.”

“When?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“Now tell me what else you have got on the old man, or I’ll put one through your heel. It won’t kill you, but you’ll never walk again without the aid of a stick.”

“Nothing. There’s nothing else, I promise. Just the neg and the prints in the envelope. Since you have my pistol you’ve obviously searched my room at the Grand and I daresay my car as well. You know I’m telling you the truth.”

“Stop wasting my time.” I kneed him in the back and sent him sprawling onto the carpet. “We both know it wouldn’t be in the least bit like you to bet everything on the one hand. That’s not how your kind of salesman works. You squeeze the lemon until there’s no juice in him and the pips have fallen out. So you’re going to tell me where you’ve stashed the rest of your samples, or I swear you’re only leaving this room in a wheelchair.”

I pressed the muzzle of the Sig against his Achilles to underline my meaning; I don’t know that I would actually have shot him, but he wasn’t to know that.

“All right, all right, I’ll tell you.”

I let him up onto his knees again, but he was slow to get started so I flicked his earlobe with the Sig a couple of times to encourage his soul-assuming he had one-to unburden itself.