Borrower of the Night - Elizabeth Peters [37]
In the silence I heard footsteps outside – Tony and the old witch, going after the keys. The footsteps didn’t stop, they went on up the stairs. The cold-blooded female hadn’t even looked in.
I moved closer to the bed and took Irma’s hand, which was groping desperately, as if in search of something. Blankenhagen gave me a faint smile of approval. I felt absurdly complimented. The smile made him look almost handsome.
Finally Irma’s eyes opened, and I gave a sigh of relief. Blankenhagen leaned over her, murmuring in German – repeated reassurances, comforting and semi-hypnotic. The technique seemed to work; her face remained calm. Then she turned her head and saw me.
‘It is the Fräulein Doktor, come to sit with you,’ said Blankenhagen quietly. ‘She will stay – all night, if you wish . . . ?’
The question was meant for me as well as for Irma. I answered with a prompt affirmative, and patted the kid’s hand.
Gently but decisively it was withdrawn.
‘Thank you. You are good. But I would like my aunt.’
‘But – ’ the doctor began.
‘My aunt! I must have her, she alone can help me . . . Herr Doktor, please!’
Her voice rose. I recognized the sign of incipient hysteria as well as Blankenhagen did. Our eyes met, and he shrugged.
‘Yes, of course you shall have her. I will fetch her.’
Irma’s eyes closed.
‘I’ll get the Gräfin,’ I said in a low voice. ‘You’d better stay here. If Irma changes her mind I’ll come, any time.’
‘Sehr gut.’ He got up from his chair with an anxious glance at the girl, who lay unmoving. He opened the door for me, and as I was about to go out he moved with a quick grace I hadn’t expected in such a stocky, solid man. He kissed my hand.
‘You are a good woman,’ said Blankenhagen, in a burst of Germanic sentimentality. ‘I thank you for your help . . . I apologize for what I thought . . .’
I didn’t know what he had been thinking about me, and I didn’t particularly want to know. He was still holding my hand – his hands were big and warm and hard – when Tony appeared on the stairs that led to the next floor. He stopped, with a corny theatrical start, when he saw us. Blankenhagen released my hand, and Tony came on down slowly, his eyes fixed on me.
‘Got the keys?’ I inquired.
‘Huh? Yeah. How’s Irma?’
‘Not good. She wants Auntie. God knows why.’
Auntie chose that moment to make her appearance. I think she heard me. She gave me a mocking, ice-blue stare, and spoke to Blankenhagen.
‘I will stay with my niece tonight. Thank you, Doctor.’
‘But I – ’
‘I will call you if there is need. But I think you may sleep undisturbed. I know how to deal with this. It has happened before.’
The door closed on our staring faces, but not before we had seen Irma’s face turn towards the old woman, and heard her breathless greeting.
Blankenhagen made a movement towards the closed door, but I grabbed his arm.
‘Better not,’ I said. ‘She’ll throw you out of the hotel if you interfere. She has the right.’
‘And I have none,’ Blankenhagen muttered.
‘No,’ Tony agreed. He glanced at me. The glance was friendly; he had concluded that the doctor was falling for Irma and was therefore safe from my predatory clutches. ‘Better go to bed. See you all in the morning.’
I observed the awkward angle of the arm Tony was hiding behind his back, and I remembered why I had come to Rothenburg. I had not come to rescue oppressed damsels. Let the boys take care of that.
‘Go to bed, while you explore the crypt?’ I demanded. ‘You’ve got the keys behind your back right now. I’m coming with you.’
‘The crypt?’ Blankenhagen repeated. ‘Why in the devil’s name do you want to go there?’
‘Why not?’ I said flippantly. ‘Maybe we’ll meet Konstanze. That’s where she – er – lives, isn’t it?’
‘I should not go with you,’ Blankenhagen muttered. ‘If I am needed – ’
‘You weren’t invited to come,’ Tony said indignantly.
‘I invited myself,’ said the doctor, with an unexpected gleam of sardonic humour. ‘I do not know what you are doing, but if I were in your shoes, I would not mind a companion. There are forces abroad in