Silhouette in Scarlet - Elizabeth Peters [30]
‘He is the very tall, very blond character who is beating on the door,’ I said. ‘I think I’ll let him in. He visualizes me as a frail, wilted flower.’
Treading lightly, John moved away from the door.
‘I wonder what he has to do with this.’
‘You don’t know? He isn’t the man you’re so scared of?’
‘I haven’t the vaguest notion who he is.’ John was capable of lying with extreme skill, but this time I believed him. He was too nervous to do a good job of prevarication.
Leif kept pounding on the door. He seemed to be under the delusion that he was doing it quietly, for in between bangs he kept repeating, ‘Let me in, Vicky, or I will make a loud noise. I know he is in there.’
John sat down and folded his hands primly on his knee. ‘Police?’ he inquired
‘He says he is. I doubt it.’
‘Hmph.’
‘Vicky, let me in!’
‘If you don’t stop that, I’m going to call the concierge,’ I shouted.
The banging stopped. After a moment Leif announced, ‘I will not go away. I will stay here all night.’
‘He probably will,’ I said to John. ‘Shall I call the desk?’
‘The less attention we attract, the better.’
‘I have already attracted far too much attention.’
‘True. How do you find these people?’ I started to make a rude remark, but John cut me off. ‘The longer I stay, the worse for you, Vicky. You had better admit the irate gentleman. Once he’s satisfied I’m not here, he’ll leave. Or will he?’
I ignored the insolent leer that accompanied the question. ‘You are here,’ I said stupidly.
‘I won’t be when you let him in.’
There was only one other exit from the room – the window.
‘You can’t,’ I exclaimed.
‘How tall did you say Leif is? Seven feet? I assume he is proportionately broad, and he is obviously proportionately irate.’
‘Wait.’ I grabbed his arm as he strolled towards the window. ‘I’ll telephone the police, the manager – ’
‘And Leif the Lucky will broadcast my presence to half the population of Stockholm.’ I continued to tug at him as he paced; he glanced at me in surprise and then put two and two together. His eyes narrowed with amusement.
‘Why, darling, I didn’t know you cared. Do you really suppose I’m stupid enough to climb out that window?’
‘Then what – ’
‘It’s quite simple, really. Watch.’
He pulled away from my grasp and headed for the door.
‘Wait a minute,’ I exclaimed. ‘You can’t walk out of here without telling me – ’
‘The less you know, the better for you. Get out, go home, depart.’
‘Damn it, John, what about Cousin Gustaf?’
He stopped. ‘Cousin Gustaf will be all right.’
‘You involved him too. You’re after something he has. He told me himself he doesn’t like strangers – you planned to use me, a fictitious relative, to gain access to him. If your informant sold someone else the same information that led you to Gus, and that someone is less chickenhearted than you . . .’
In a very quiet, controlled voice, John said, ‘Bloody hell.’
Leif started throwing himself against the door. Every object in the room rattled.
‘What about Cousin Gus?’ I insisted.
John swung around to face me. ‘Vicky, you don’t get the picture. Gus is in no danger. At least . . . No, he can’t be. The – er – the object of my present quest . . . Let me put it this way. Gus doesn’t know where it is. I don’t know exactly where it is myself. The “someone” to whom you refer knows even less than I do. He can’t . . . That is, he wouldn’t . . .’ His voice trailed off. After a moment he repeated, ‘Bloody hell.’
‘You can’t even convince yourself,’ I said angrily. ‘Why the hell don’t you tell me what you’re after, instead of playing games?’
‘The less you know, the better,’ John said again. ‘All right, damn it – I’ll look after Gus. I promise.’
‘Ha, ha, ha,’ I said.
The door continued to rattle. I couldn’t imagine why no one had complained. The people in the nearby rooms must be out.
John grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. ‘I must have been out of my mind to bring you into this,’ he snarled. ‘You’ve brought me nothing but bad luck from first to last – ’
‘Well, who the hell asked you – ’ I began.
He stopped my mouth with his. The kiss lacked