Silhouette in Scarlet - Elizabeth Peters [54]
With a broadening grin he took in the two chairs, the table with two place settings, and the ring of hungry faces. ‘I will get us something to drink,’ he said.
I suggested a light Riesling, to go with the fish, and told him where to find it in the pantry. As he opened the bottle, I met Max’s narrowed eyes.
‘I’m sure you wouldn’t trust anything I cooked,’ I said guilelessly.
‘I have enough for everyone,’ John announced, sloshing his linguine into a colander. Max turned his hostile stare onto John, who said impatiently, ‘I don’t give a damn whether you eat it or not, Max, but it surely must have occurred to you, as it has to Dr Bliss, that poisoning is an extremely slow and chancy method of incapacitating a large-sized group.’
Max thought this over, and as the truth of it dawned, his cheeks turned the colour of fresh liver. ‘But you were the one,’ he began.
‘I just threw that idea out to liven things up,’ John said. ‘Have a kidney.’
The pike was delicious. I guess the kidneys were too. The gang polished them off and gobbled up everything else in sight, including the remains of the pike, which I magnanimously contributed. Fish is no good the second day anyway.
‘Oh, dear,’ John said, surveying the scraped plates. ‘I ought to have made meatballs too. Never mind, we’ll have them tomorrow night.’
This hopeful suggestion hung twitching and dying in midair like a hooked fish. Max grunted and pushed his chair from the table.
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ I said, as the rest followed suit. ‘I cleaned up one mess today. It’s your turn for KP.’
I honestly didn’t expect this order would be obeyed, but after a moment Max nodded. ‘Sir John will oblige.’
‘Sir John’ looked mutinous. ‘It’s not fair. I did the cooking.’
For a minute it appeared the situation was going to develop into one of those all too familiar family squabbles, like the ones my brothers and I had every day of our lives. ‘It’s your turn tonight. No, it’s not, I did it yesterday. You did not, I traded with you Tuesday . . .’
Max banged his fist on the table. ‘Hans.’
‘Aber, Herr Max, ich weiss nicht – ’
I decided to get out and leave them to settle it. The argument broke out again as soon as I left the room. Somehow I was not surprised to see that John had also slipped out.
‘Shall we take a little stroll in the garden?’ he asked.
‘That’s what I had in mind. A solitary stroll.’
Trotting to keep up with me, he remarked, ‘I sense a specific source of annoyance, over and above the general vexation I seem to arouse in you. You’d better tell me what it is; we can’t work efficiently while you are nursing some fancied grudge.’
I spun around. He ground to a halt and ducked, just in time to avoid the fist I shook under his nose. ‘Annoyance? I never had a very exaggerated opinion of your morals, but after seeing the end product of your latest caper I am not inclined to add myself to the list of victims.’
‘Ah – Georg.’
‘Georg,’ I agreed.
‘I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I told you I was not responsible.’
‘I wouldn’t.’
‘We’d all have a better chance of getting out of this if you could bring yourself to cooperate with me.’
‘You cooperate first,’ I said.
‘If I’m to get out of the house tonight, I’ll need your help.’ He broke off with a grunt of exasperation as the front door opened and Rudi appeared. ‘Pretend to be angry,’ he muttered.
‘No trouble.’ I slapped his face hard. He yelled. Rudi grinned – at least I think the slit in the lower part of his face was intended to be a smile.
John retreated into the house, ostentatiously nursing his cheek. Rudi followed. I went down the steps into the garden.
The roses were beginning to bloom. I touched a creamy bud; its opening petals were as translucent as fine porcelain. Gus had talked about his rose garden the night before. His mother had set it out, nursing the prize plants through the long cold winter. Gus was enormously proud of it.
Where was he now, the kind old man who had welcomed kin so warmly? If he met his death through my carelessness and lack of foresight