Chapter 17 six

33 A phone rings.I fell into a drowsy, groggy sleep.I heard, I only dreamed, the phone was ringing.I just had a dream about snakes, lots and lots of big snakes, and I was fighting them for my life.The snakes were ready to suffocate me.A phone rings.No, this is not a dream.I jumped up and woke up suddenly, not knowing where I was, what date, what time, who I was.Really don't know, I can't tell.A phone rang.I couldn't see the telephone because the curtains were drawn and the room was almost pitch black.I still feel the snakes oppressing my body, and my hair, body, and forehead are dripping with sweat.

Where am I?Where is this damn phone?I fumbled and knocked over a glass of water, which was on my bedside table, grabbed it with one hand, and the water dripped to the floor, tap, tap, tap.The hand landed on something hard—a phone.I pick it up.My hands were shaking as I held the receiver close to my ear. "Hey?" "Good morning, Mr. Lucas," said a girl's voice. "You asked us to wake you. It is seven o'clock." "Seven o'clock," I repeated absurdly.I tried to put the earpiece back in, but couldn't find the hook, so I searched for the switch for the bedside lamp with my hands, pressed it, and suddenly the obnoxious light lit up the room too harshly.What is this... I suddenly realized.Yes, my hotel room.Yes, I asked to be woken up at seven.Yes, I'm in the "Intercontinental Hotel".Yes, I left my wife because of Angera.I had spoken to her on the phone at four o'clock.That's less than three hours of sleep.My eyes are burning.I know that if I don't get up right away, I'm going to fall asleep again soon.I can't sleep anymore.I saw the water in the cup soaking the bedside table and forming black spots on the carpet.I took a deep breath and jumped out of bed—so fast, my hair was dizzy, and I nearly fell over.I have headache.It was due to whiskey, many whiskeys last night.I'm still drunk.Unsteady on my feet, I stumble across the bedroom to the window and draw the curtains.The strong sunlight fell on me like a sudden sharp pain.I put my hands to my forehead.Over there is the airport.

Today is Thursday, May 18th, I think.My old life is over.Has a new life begun?Yes, I hope so.A life full of love.But how can I get to this life now?I didn't think about it this morning, and it occurred to me later—there were mountains of trouble and difficulty on my way to Angera.This morning, half from the whiskey, I'm dizzy and have a splitting headache, and all I can think is, last night you made a deal.In this ending lies the beginning.I am very serious, serious and worried, and I cannot make a wrong move now.I, too, felt overwhelmed and suddenly lonely, incredibly lonely.I wanted to call Angera, but I was afraid of waking her.I took a hot shower, put my head under the freezing water, and shaved, but I still had a headache and was still dazed.I ordered two pots of tea, a bottle of alca soda and a bottle of mineral water.Tea and alca soda finally worked.I feel better.

Seven forty-five. I have a lot of things to do today.I called Fontana first, on his private number.This Dr. Paul Fontana has been my lawyer--for no less than twenty years.I told him all that had happened, and said I was eager to talk to him. "When?" Fontana asked.His voice was as calm and friendly as a doctor's.I've never heard him speak otherwise. "I don't know when, Pavel. I have to go to work. It's possible that Brandenburg has sent me somewhere. But I'm free in the evening anyway—evening at the latest. If that doesn't work, I'll Call you again."

"All right. You come to the office. I have a case to attend to. Be here before midnight. Come after six, if you can. All the parties will be gone by then." "Thank you, Paul." "You're welcome. I warn you, you're going to have a tough time." "I don't care." "You're talking now. We'll see." "Then you'll wait until I'm dead. I don't care what it is. I have to leave Karin. I love another woman. She loves me too." "That's fine. But it won't help us. I'll try to make things as easy as possible for you. But you'll have to really listen to me when the time comes and do what I suggest."

"That's why I want to see you as soon as possible." "A lot of people want to see me as soon as possible, but don't do what I say. How is your bank account?" "It's in my name. I only promise Karin the right to sign it." "Then you go to the bank now and cancel her rights." "I have thought of that. I must do it at once." "Of course. From now on, your wife will do everything possible to hurt you and make you suffer, and try to get as much benefit as possible from the beginning." "She yelled at my back that she was going to leave me penniless."

"Look," said Fontana, "you take care, Robert. A forsaken woman capable of anything. Hate is a much stronger emotion than love. Does Karin have an account, too?" "Yes. At another bank, for years. I don't know how much money is on it." "Do you also have the right to sign?" "No." "Of course not," said Fontana. "That's right. Then I'll wait for you tonight. Until then, you don't have to do anything but set up your account. Forward the mail to the InterContinental Hotel. I promise." "I promise. Give Vera my regards."

"I will." Vera was his wife—seventeen years.They have two daughters, a happy life, an ideal couple.Such things do exist.Angera and I would also be an ideal couple, I think.I put on my clothes, asked for a safe at the main desk, and deposited my papers and an envelope containing 119,000 francs, my remaining money.Then I get in the Admiral, drive into town, and go to my bank.The staff member who greeted me with a smile, I have known him since 1949.His name was Klasser, and he had a false eye, invisible to those who didn't know it.He showed it to me once.Years passed, and Krasser's hair was gray and old.I told him my wish.He walked away, fetched my file, and filled out a form.I revoke my authorization for my wife in the form.I just need to sign this form.Now my wife can't move this account.It was that simple and took less than five minutes.I gave Klasser my new address where the bank statement should be sent, "Intercontinental Hotel" and so on.He took this down without asking a single personal question.He is a very shy person.That fake eye was a bullet from a Soviet sniper shooter.He always said that he had been lucky twice in his life, which was much luckier than the hundred times of others; the sniper shooter could have killed him, only by a hair.It's a stroke of luck.Another stroke of luck was his marriage to a woman he called "Enshin."He has been married to "En Xin" for twenty-eight years.They have no children, and they love each other like newlyweds.Over the years Crasse has become a little garrulous.This morning, the business hall was almost empty.Crasse pulled out a calendar and showed me the page with all the days and months of the year printed on it.Almost half of those days have been painted with red pen.

"It looks nice, doesn't it?" Klasser's face brightened.I felt that not only his real eyes but also his fake eyes were happy. "Every night I cross off the day when it's over." "why?" "On December 20th I will retire. Grace and I will leave Düsseldorf then, as soon as the celebrations are over, all arranged. We leave Germany. We have been saving money since the war, Nice to buy a bungalow in Tenerife. In Bayama. You know, Mr. Lucas, it's a rare good idea. The island with the black fire beach. It's much cheaper there. We'll be in Bayama Spend our old age. Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's beautiful," I said. "I'm so happy for you, Mr. Crasse, though I'd be sorry to never see you here again." "I'll be sorry too, Mr. Lucas. But maybe you won't be here this time." It was the only reassuring words he could say. "No, maybe not," I said, thinking that I would spend Christmas with Angera, no matter what would happen before then, what kind of trouble we would get into, what would happen to me.Spend Christmas with Angera.and New Year's Eve.no matter what happens. "The little house there is already built and furnished. We rent it out until December. We sell the furniture here. We sell everything here. We want to live beautifully in Bayama."

"We'll see each other again," I said. "Please send my regards to your wife." "Thank you, Mr. Lucas," he said.We shook hands, and Crasse stood at attention.He does it all the time.I walked out of the bank a little dizzy.I wondered if what I had just done was a very mean thing.It was a mean thing, I said to myself, but I had to do it in Angera's interest and in my own.My dizziness grew worse when I realized that I didn't care if I did something mean.Klasser checked and found that there was a total of 192,542 marks in my account, of which 150,000 marks were time deposits.After all, I also want some interest.This is the money I've accumulated over nineteen years of working for Universal Insurance.I'm not a millionaire, but I'm not a beggar either.In addition, I have one hundred and nineteen thousand francs and my salary.This will be deposited into my account forever.I thought: How much would I have to give Karin if we divorced?If she refuses to divorce, how much do I have to give her?Fontana, I thought, would tell me everything.I drove to the nearby post office, walked into an office on the second floor, and filled out a request to have all my mail forwarded to the "Intercontinental Hotel" address.Immediately transfer until canceled or a new change.The person who took the form studied it for a long time, and then stared at me for a long time. "What's wrong?" I asked, "Did I fill in something wrong?" "No," he said, "that's right. You left the house and checked into the hotel, didn't you, Mr. Lucas? Left your wife?" "What does it matter to you?" I asked roughly. "None of my business," he whispered, "I mean no harm. I'm happy for everyone who gets out of misfortune and out of marriage. My hell has been going on for fourteen years. I've got a stomach ulcer. Every day I have Fourteen pills. Fourteen! Avoid all agitation, or the pain will be more frequent." He laughed. "It's nice to avoid all agitation, isn't it?" "I'm so sorry for you," I said, thinking, at least I don't have to take fourteen pills a day, I don't have stomach ulcers, I have intermittent lameness.And maybe angina.When I turned again at the door, I saw the man behind the desk pick up the book he was reading again.What he got was a slack, and his agency was sympathetic.I read the title of the book on the cover.It's called All Good Things on Earth. 34 "Robert," said Gustav Brandenburg, "I have to hug you." The man was stocky, of medium build, with a bald, square head.When I walked into his office, he stood in front of me.His secretary informed me.He emerged from behind his desk, put his arms around me, and punched my back, smelling of cigars and sweaty shirts.My stomach tightens a little.I want to back off.But he hugged me and looked up at me because he was so much shorter than me.There was some popcorn on the corner of his mouth, and there was excitement in his sly pig eyes.I noticed with horror that they were even wet. "You're amazing, Robert. You acted! You finally didn't just talk but acted. Do you know how happy that makes me, Robert? You're like my son." Another backbeat , the smell of cigars and sweat again.I couldn't bear it anymore, so I tried hard to break away. We make our way to his cluttered desk with popcorn and cigar ashes strewn across piles of papers.I quickly sat down on a sofa chair at my desk.He stood in front of me hesitantly.I was worried that he would touch me or sit on the arm of the sofa chair, so I crossed my legs and rested my lower arms on the armrests on both sides.He looked at me sadly, walked back to his sofa chair, and sat down heavily. "Damn it," he said, "Robert, it's a happy day. I've been waiting ten years for it." "Where did you know that?" I asked. He retrieved a Havana, bit the head off, and spat it out.As he lit his cigar and puffed out the smoke, he mumbled, "Karin called. Called at eight o'clock this morning. All told." "all?" "All, yes. You are familiar with it in her delicate way. What a lady, noble lady! You have another one at Cannes, who forsaken your noble lady. Such a man cannot be employed by the Universal Insurance Company. I fire you. She's out of her mind! How can she continue to live so well if we fire you? I'm telling you, this Karin will do anything, even throw acid in people's faces .Well, maybe I let her run into trouble." "Did you let her run into trouble?" "Listen to me! Let me tell you, I cannot and will not interfere in your private life under any circumstances." "How about it?" "She said, then she's going to the board, to the top." "Excellent," I said, "excellent." "Great, shit," Gustav said, "if she does, the people up there will call me. I'm backing you, keep supporting me! I can't do without you. The company won't do it because of This kind of thing removes such a strength from you." "Won't it?" "Never!" said Gustav, "let Karin do the work for nothing. She can't do it." He stared at me curiously. "So you found great love in Kena, yes?" "yes." "I'm happy. I'm so happy for you, Robert." "thanks." He pressed the button of the walkie-talkie connected to his female secretary, and said in a low voice, "Please bring the bottle in now!" "What bottle?" I asked. "Champagne. Let's celebrate, man! I can tell you that wife of yours, I probably made it clear to her, and forbid her to bother me with her private affairs. I told her I was your friend, I don't want to hear what she has to say about you. Is that right?" I nodded. "I don't want to tell you what she said about you. It's disgusting, man, disgusting." I figured it must be disgusting enough if even Gustav was disgusted. "If she gets mad, that's all right. But no, just accusations and self-pity. She threatens that she can damage your work. Cruel, cold threats. And of course she goes on and on about the other one, the county's." The one. She doesn't know her, does she?" "do not know." "She got a little angry when it came to the other one. Just said she was a whore, not a whore." Brandenburg's secretary, an older lady, brought in a bottle of champagne and two glasses on a tray. 297 "Thank you," said Gustav.He opened the bottle awkwardly, and the champagne sprayed against one of the walls. "Damn it," Gustav said, "it's still cold. Let it be warm." He filled the glass, handed me a glass, and toasted me. "For your happiness, Robert, my boy." We drink.Champagne is really too warm.It's definitely cheap too.Gustav immediately filled the glass again. "What are you doing now?" "I need to talk to my lawyer." "Karin said you asked for a divorce." "good." "Marry another?" "possible." "Absolutely! Not possible! You can trust me, man! I'm so glad you've finally found love again. For the first time in years, you look like a completely different person. Cheers!" "Cheers!" I downed the lukewarm champagne, even though I didn't think it tasted very good.I don't want to annoy Gustav.I don't want to make anyone angry right now. "What's her name?" "I don't want to talk about that right now." "Listen, you can tell me anything. Say it!" "Really, Gustav, please don't push me." "Okay then, I get it. I get it all, don't get mad at you. Another drink to the Cannes whore!" He laughed as he refilled my glass. "No," I said, "thanks. That's enough for me." "You won't drink with me to your love? To your happiness? Ain't you superstitious, man?" His words startled me so I immediately took my hand off my glass and let him fill it up. "Drink," said Gustav.Let's drink again.I feel slightly spicy.It really is the cheapest champagne.My thrifty Gustav. "You should know that no matter what happens, you both can trust me. I'd do anything for you and her. I don't even know her. But if you love her, I'll do anything for her." Gus Taft Brandenburg said.It's a phrase I'll always think of again. 35 This morning he was wearing an orange shirt with blue stripes and a green tie.His room was warm, but the air was thin and stale.Gustav's shirt showed large dark spots under the armpits.I try not to look past it, but I do so more often because of it. "I know everything that happened in Cannes," Gustav said. "That Kesler talked to Bonn, his boss, and Frisser on the phone yesterday. He said it took an hour. His phone has An anti-eavesdropping device, and Kesler and he can talk freely. I've been asking for one for my computer for ten years." He said angrily, "Did I get it? What I got was Shit. We've got to work with this shitty cipher. Or I've got to fly my men back and forth. Well, this time they've got that drunk in Kilwood. That's supposed to be pretty disgusting, isn't it?" "Oh yes," I said, "pretty disgusting." Gustav Brandenberg said that other people looked disgusting, which is really rare. "Who did it?" "I don't know. Didn't they make any progress during this time?" "No clue. Lawyers, police officers and journalists from who knows where are in Cannes, but the police don't understand. Representatives of France and the United States, who were summoned, are trying to suppress this matter." "Yes, I've heard that," I said. "From whoever—forget it. Yeah, that's what it is. Big deal. One of the richest men in the world. They're all about it, they're trying to cover it up. Of course they investigate—incidentally. I don't want to. Be this La Closse or Russel. Poor dog. Whatever they find if they're allowed to - it's only for the cats. Several French and German papers reported this morning about an American The mysterious crime of the rich man made the whole thing an ordinary criminal case. They have reached a consensus on this point. Who do you think killed Kilwood?" "Someone who's afraid that Kilwood told too much about Herman's death. Kilwood knows a lot." "Exactly with me," said Gustav.Popcorn popped out of his mouth as soon as he spoke. "But how did the murderer get close to Killwood? Kesler said the house was under surveillance." "They thought there might have been someone who had been hiding in the house and got away in the chaos when the murder was discovered." "Maybe. Maybe not." "how do I say this?" "Aren't there a whole lot of police watching the house? Every now and then a man goes in to look. It could be any one of them." "This is crazy!" "not at all." "No," I said soberly, "you're right. Not crazy at all, if enough money is paid. They've got plenty of money." "Exactly. This man also killed Viala. There were twelve others, if Herman hadn't killed himself." "If Herman didn't commit suicide, Universal Insurance would have to pay fifteen million." I said, "You send me, but I must find a way to prove that it was suicide." Gustave was chewing on his Havana, looking at me expectantly. "What happened? Didn't you send me for that?" I asked. "Of course it is," Brandenburg said, "but I can always think about it? Anything is possible in this shit. Including not just one murderer, but multiple murderers, but it's also possible that Hermann Still suicidal." "So you still believe it?" "I want to believe it. I have to believe it. I can believe it," Gustav said. "So I have you back. We're lucky we can prove suicide. You'll have to get on the next plane." To Frankfurt." "What happened there?" "Before Frisser called and told me all about Kilwood, I got another call. It was from a guy in Frankfurt, be sure to speak to me - he said it was for your superiors. Then he Tell me he has something to tell you. Personally. Urgently. In Frankfurt. He can't leave. And before six o'clock at night." "why?" "Because he ain't got no time after that. Then he's going to work. That guy's name is Molitor. Fred Molitor." "I don't know him. Why does he want to talk to me?" "Because he knows you. Knows your name, to be exact. Knows everything about you," said Gustav. I won't talk to the police. Of course I want money. Just give it to him. You bring more. See what he says is worth." "Wait," I said, "I'm totally confused. This..." "Molitor. Fred Molitor. Name, address and telephone number on this note. Alexander Street. West, near Locker Street." "How does this Molitor know me?" "By Zeberg," said Gustav. "This is even more incredible." "It was very simple. Molitor told me on the phone that after the news of the accident in Cannes came out, he called Seeberg in Cannes and asked him what he should do." "What should be done?" "I don't know exactly what to do with what he can sell. Zeberg knows, he said on the phone. Zeberg asked him to tell you that you are the right person because you are in charge of this case. " "But what did you promise about it? It all sounds incredible! It's incredible!" “It’s nothing too incredible,” Brandenburg said, “if it’s a lot of money. Back then, the most incredible thing is often the answer to everything.” "Do you think that Molitor will now give us the answers to all our questions?" "Maybe not everything is wrong," Brandenburg said. "What's the answer to that?" "Proving that Hermann was once a very large pig, he committed suicide because he was cornered," said Gustav Brandenberger. 36 "Hello?" "Angela, this is Robert." "This is unbelievable! It's not true!" "what?" "I sat in front of the phone for an hour, staring at it, begging for it. I said over and over, let Robert call, let him call, now, please, please, I want to hear his voice. I have to Listen to his voice. I can't wait till night. I must know what happened. What happened, Robert?" I'm calling from a booth at the post office at Dusseldorf Airport.I told Angera that I had to fly to Frankfurt and meet my lawyer in the evening. "Call me right after that, okay?" "of course." "When will you come back to me?" "I don't know yet." "Oh, God." "Maybe I'll find out tonight." "What if you don't know? What if it takes a long time?" "Then I must stay. This is my job, Angera." "I get it. I get it, Robert. It's just, look..." There was a rustling on the line, getting louder. "What are you talking about? What are you talking about? I can't understand you!" I shouted. "Wait, wait until it's over, the noise." A voice on the speaker came into my phone booth. "Attention: Lufthansa announces its flight 645 to Frankfurt. Passengers are requested to board the bus via exit 14. Attention! Lufthansa informs..." The rustle died away. "Now I can hear clearly again." "Robert, you did it." Angela's voice sounded incoherent, whispering, "You did it. I... I love you too. My God, I think, I can't live without you anymore No, I know! I know! You are so far away." "We have each other." "Yes, Robert, yes." "I don't have you..." The rustling sounded again.I wait.The horn was repeatedly calling Lufthansa passengers bound for Frankfurt.After a while the noise went away again, but it felt like a long time to me. "I can't live without you." "I didn't sleep a minute last night. It's crazy what we're doing." "Sweet madness." "Evil insanity, Robert. I don't believe we're immune. What we're doing is forbidden." "Who banned it?" "We're hurting another human being, so it's forbidden. God forbid it. And..." "I don't care, whatever God..." "You let me finish! What I have to say is terrible." "What are you going to say?" "Neither do I! It doesn't matter at all! Do you know how much I love you, even though we're not doing it right? In spite of all this? How much I love you, and don't really know you yet?" "I……" "Call me after you see the lawyer, okay? I'll wait. Even if it's five o'clock in the morning, you call, okay?" "Okay." I said. The rustling sounded again.I can't understand Angera's words.A voice on the horn called for the third time to the passengers bound for Frankfurt.The rustling continued.Pointless.I put the mic back on the cradle and walked over to the counter at my post office to pay.Then I hurried—yes, I hurried, I hurried, I was able to run again—to a flower shop.There I gave Angera's full address to a young saleswoman. "Buy 'Sonya' for two hundred marks." I said, "Please call Cannes. Please inform the flower shop 'Flower Moon' on Place Gambetta that you can list it in your flower delivery service book across Europe. turn up." "Of course, sir. Want to write something?" Two hundred marks... do you want it? "Of course I have to write something. I'll write it down." I finished and paid.Two hundred Deutsche Marks, plus phone calls and flower delivery all over Europe. Then I walked through the seemingly endless aisles of the airport with my travel bag on my back.My feet hurt.I keep running and running.A flight attendant was waiting for me at gate 14. "Going to Frankfurt?" "right." "The car drove away. The Volkswagen took you to the plane." "Thank you." A blue and yellow Lufthansa Volkswagen was parked outside, its engine beeping.The driver barely waited for me to sit down next to him before he started.The door slammed shut quickly. "The big ones are always slow," said the driver angrily.He was young, scruffy and acne-prone.I figured it must be his acne that made him so angry.My feet hurt badly.My heart was beating so fast I could feel it rushing up my throat. Angera loves me.she loves me.I am the happiest person in the world.I swallowed two pills, thinking to myself.When I met that Fred Molitor in Frankfurt, Angela had already received the rose. "The Volkswagen made a sharp curve and approached the Lufthansa plane, and an impatient stewardess was standing on the gangway of the plane. I jumped off and limped up the gangway." What I wrote to Angera on a note that I will send with "Sonya" is: I love you with all my heart—Robert. "I'm sorry," I said to the beautiful, angry stewardess, "I'm really sorry, please forgive me." The stewardess ignored me.She pushed me into the plane, closed the door, and bolted it.I sat down in a seat by the window.My feet still hurt. I love you with all my heart - Robert. 37 Gustav said, near Locker Street.I drove out of the airport in a taxi, passed highways and expressways, and drove past modern, newly-emerged tall residential buildings and green belts.Then, the scenery changed suddenly.We got stuck in a maze of small alleys.The houses on both sides are crooked and dilapidated.I seem to have suddenly fallen into another era, back to the most distant past. Fred Molitor lived in such a shabby house on Alexander Street. On the second floor, a tall, fat woman opened the door.She must have had six chins and smelled like the whole house of sauerkraut. "I'm Mrs. Molitor," she said in a low voice that surprised me. "Excuse me, I'm still in my apron and I'm doing the dishes. We always eat late, you know. Fred has a long sleep." Time. You go into the drawing room. Fred will come right away, he's taking a nap, but he said, if you come, let me wake him up." So I sat down in the living room, a small room with floral tapestry, rickety furniture, a floral tablecloth on a round table, framed photographs above the TV, and holes in the wall filled with clothes. Rag dolls, the kind you can buy in airports or souvenir shops—a Spanish woman, a Bavarian, a Dutch woman—wrapped in cellophane.I sat down on a couch and the springs rattled.A birdcage hung by the window contained a pair of little birds.The sunlight pouring into the room dazzled me.When I stepped on it, the floor rattled.There was pilling on the tapestry.There must be damp on the walls, I thought.There is also sauerkraut here. The door opened, and in came a man of about fifty-five, scrawny and pale, with sunken cheeks and dark circles around his eyes, like all night workers.Fred Molitor—how could such a man have such a name?He was wearing slippers and a morning coat.His tired eyes were red.The hand he extended to me was soft.The floor was also rattled by his steps.When a car drives past outside, everything inside the house vibrates. "A small glass of wine?" asked Molitor, in a very shrill voice, contrary to his wife's. "A glass of liqueur, Monsieur Lucas?" "no thanks." "Come on, or you'll hurt me." He took out a bottle of wine and two glasses from a cabinet under the TV.He filled them up and toasted me.The liqueur is sweet enough.I feel a little uncomfortable.Molitor licked his lips. "Is it good to drink? I love this thing the most." "Mr. Molitor, Zeberg wants you to tell me what you know." "Yes, yes. About Mr. Hermann, may God make him happy." The tired eyes brightened and looked at me repulsively. "Poor Mr. Hermann—he gave me money so I don't have to talk to anyone." "But you talked to someone afterwards--to Mr. Seeberg." "That's another matter. Mr. Seeberg is from the bank. It's my duty." "Isn't it your duty to talk to me?" "I don't think so. I didn't say anything to the police either. It's all because Mr. Seeberg did, and I should tell you. I don't know if it's right or not." "What if Mr. Seeberg entrusts you with this?" "You know, in the security company I make just enough to live on. Look where I live. My wife has kidney trouble. Myself—how long can I work? I'm a poor man, Mr. Lucas." The chief cashier of Universal Insurance gave me the money as Brandenburg instructed.I put two thousand-mark notes on the lace tablecloth. "Mr. Hermann gave me five thousand," he said disapprovingly in his eunuch-like voice. "I'll give you two thousand. If you don't tell me, I'll tell the police that you're hiding something." "It's blackmail." "say to me. "Three thousand! Mr. Lucas. The poor have to live too." "Two thousand, that's all." I said. A truck rolls below us through a narrow cobbled street.The whole house trembled again. "I thought you would be more humane, Mr. Lucas." "Well, that's not my case. What happened? Please tell me!" "Doing business fairly." Molitor's morning coat was stained with rice and the sleeves were fluffed.His slippers are torn and out of date. "I want to eat! I had to call Mr. Seeberger in Cannes, he couldn't leave there. I told him everything on the phone. How much it cost!" I put another five-hundred-mark note on the table. He was hypocritically polite. "I knew you were a good man. Another glass of liqueur? Of course, of course, one more!" He picked up the bottle again.I stopped drinking and he drank his liqueur greedily. "Ah, this is very comfortable. After eating sauerkraut, I keep turning my stomach. Well, you see, I have been assigned to Hermann Bank for nine years. With three colleagues. Our task从晚上六点到清晨七点。周末和节假日另有一组人，换我们的岗。我们有我们的考勤钟。各有各的楼层，我们在银行里实际上走个不停。手枪，催泪弹，当然都配备了这些东西。您认识泽尔街上的赫尔曼银行吗？” "right." “宏伟吧？人总会累的。清晨我总是筋疲力尽。回到这破房子里又不能好好地睡。老是有卡车。两年来它们将这里的一切全改道了。我简直要崩溃了。我的医生说……” “莫利托尔先生！” “好吧。您听好：那是四月二十五日，半夜时分。实际上已经是四月二十六日了，因为赫尔曼先生到零点三十分左右才来。那是个星期三。” "anything else?" “那好吧，星期三凌晨零点三十分左右，侧门的门铃突然响起来。我那天夜里在底楼值班，在营业大厅里。于是我走过去，透过钢门上的猫眼，看到赫尔曼先生站在外面，燕尾服、大衣、帽子和白丝巾。他非常激动，双手乱挥，要我放他进来。如果我们当中没人为他开门，连赫尔曼先生夜里也进不了银行。我当然开了。三把特制的锁。您熟悉银行。他走进来，激动得讲不出话来，只说他还得工作。” “在凌晨零点三十分？” “对。我也这么想过。” “他常这么做吗？” "what?" “在半夜跑来。” “我在那里这么长时间，他只有这么一次。我告诉您，这个人快中风了，心肌梗塞，我怎么知道是什么毛病。他真的在颤抖，全身颤抖。” “他喝醉了吗？” “十分清醒！只是万分激动。光是低语。我的同事们在哪里？在室内，我说。他把五千马克塞进我的手里——我说的是五千，卢卡斯先生。” "heard it." “好，那就不说了。五千，他说，这是让我别告诉任何人他来工作了，还让我跟三楼的同事换班。千万别让另外两个人见到他。要我永远不谈此事。这个人有点儿不正常，卢卡斯先生。我可是了解他的。那么一个稳重的、受人尊敬的人。而这天夜里……简直可以相信他失去了理智。” “讲下去。” “好吧，他缩进侧门旁的一个过道里。我上三楼找我的同事——是恩斯特?特洛斯特——对他讲，让他跟我换。营业厅里不是到处都有长椅吗？我对恩斯特讲，我疲乏极了，我会在长椅上一睡不醒的。楼层里不行，那里得站着。恩斯特说，他无所谓，就走下去了。赫尔曼上楼，侧门的一个小楼梯。谁也没注意到什么。这下他到三楼了，他的办公室在那里。我也上去了，来回走动。我该怎么对您讲呢？赫尔曼先生根本没进他的办公室！他马上进了全权总代表泽贝格先生的办公室。它位于外汇部。这么一家银行是一家庞大的公司。根本没有哪个部门跟另一个部门有接触。好了，我想，我大吃一惊，当我再一次绕过来时，我看到泽贝格先生的办公室里有灯光——赫尔曼先生的办公室里却是黑洞洞的。泽贝格先生办公室的门没有关，开着一道缝。我不是好奇，真的不是。但这让我觉得无比神秘。于是我踮着脚尖走过去，望进泽贝格先生的办公室。我看到什么了？赫尔曼先生坐在泽贝格先生的办公桌旁。赫尔曼先生有一把钥匙，能打开所有的锁。泽贝格先生的办公桌开着，赫尔曼先生拿出文件、资料还有其它东西，一大堆，翻阅着。” 又是一辆卡车驶过。又是整幢房子都在颤抖。 “您不想要了？”莫利托尔说，再一次倒满他的小杯子。他喝酒，咳嗽，擦嘴。“当我下一回走过时，赫尔曼先生打开了泽贝格先生的文件箱，在文件夹和文件簿里翻找。再下一回，连办公室里的保险箱也开了。赫尔曼先生当然知道那密码。他站在那里，额头上冒出粗大的汗珠……” "OK OK." “如果不是这样，我立马就死！额头上冒出这么大的汗珠我还从来没见过，卢卡斯先生！这个人脸色苍白，我向您发誓。他读他从保险箱里取出来的材料。每当我走一圈回来看到他时，他看上去更苍老、更害怕、更绝望了。我想，一定发生了什么坏事，可是会出什么事呢？在赫尔曼银行里？赫尔曼银行里不可能发生什么坏事。我真的担心起来，您相信我这话吗？” “相信。这时候泽贝格先生在哪儿？” “在阿根廷参加一个会议。不，您等等，在……在……见鬼，我一时想不起来了。” “智利的圣地亚哥？” “对！那会议本来时间还要长，我相信……” “到五月十九日。” “对，没错。可是赫尔曼先生跟他的游艇遇难后，泽贝格先生立即从智利飞到了戛纳，去赫尔曼先生的妹妹家。是她让人打电话给他的。她彻底崩溃了。总得有个人继续管理银行，是不是？” “谁管理？” “泽贝格先生。跟平时不一样。警方不让他离开戛纳啊。他通过电话和传真处理一切。这里由格罗塞先生暂时领导。他是第一代理人。不像泽贝格先生那么有权。因此，我给戛纳的泽贝格先生打电话而没有跟格罗塞先生谈。” “事情如何发展的呢？” “就像我告诉您的，一整夜。到早上五点半。当时，当我走过时，赫尔曼先生突然站在了过道里——我对您讲，是一个幽灵！他让我放他出去。不让我们当中的其他任何人看到他。我照做了。随后，我上楼去了泽贝格先生的办公室。那里又全收拾齐整了。材料全放在原位。只有烟灰缸里满是烟蒂。赫尔曼先生在工作时吸烟吸个不停，这是什么工作啊！我也发现了空火柴盒，三只，那种扁的。从'法兰克福宫'酒店拿的。” “这您是怎么知道的？” “那包装盒上不是写着吗？就是嘛。”他思考，“这是全部经过，卢卡斯先生。别的我就不知道了。我只听说，那天之后，赫尔曼先生完全崩溃绝望了。下一个星期三，他就飞去了戛纳。” “这您是从谁那儿听来的？” “同事们。这种事传得很快。据说赫尔曼先生举止像个疯子似的。好像魂不守舍。彻底毁了。” “您由此得出什么结论？” "why me?" “您对这一切一定有过想法。” “我当然有过。我想，赫尔曼先生的银行，他的生意，一定出什么问题了。我对此一窍不通。某种无比重要的问题。泽贝格先生也这么认为。因此，他说，要我跟您谈。如果可以的话，不跟警方谈。不然就会被新闻界知道。那银行可就麻烦了。” “泽贝格先生无法想象，是什么把赫尔曼先生吓成这样？” “他一点也不明白。”莫利托尔打呃儿，“请原谅。还是这酸菜，我不能吃。它对我是毒药，纯粹是毒药，却是我最爱吃的菜。因此，我的克莱拉偶尔也做一回。吃过以后我就得遭罪……”