The Light of the Day - Eric Ambler [62]
“Our man Geven can cook well,” said Fischer defensively, “and I intend to prove it to you.”
“He’s a lush,” Harper said shortly.
“He cooked a castradina before you arrived which would have made you think that you were in the Quadri.” Fischer was getting worked up now and leaning forward over the back of the front seat. His breath smelled of garlic and wine.
I could not resist the opportunity. “If you don’t mind my saying so, sir,” I said to Harper, “I think Mr. Fischer is right. Geven is an excellent cook. The chicken soup he gave me last night was perfect.”
“What soup?” Fischer demanded. “We did not get soup.”
“He was upset,” I said. “You remember, Mr. Fischer, that you told him that he was not good enough to have a bathroom. He was upset. I think he threw away the soup he had made.”
“I told him no such a thing!” Fischer was becoming shrill.
“Wait a minute,” said Harper. “The cook doesn’t have a bathroom?”
“He has the whole of the servants’ rooms for himself,” Fischer said.
“But no bathroom?”
“There is no bathroom there.”
“What are you trying to do, Hans—poison us?”
Fischer flung himself against the back seat with a force that made the car lurch. “I am tired,” he declared loudly, “of trying to arrange every matter as it should be arranged and then to receive nothing but criticism. I will not so to be accused, thus …” His English broke down completely and he went into German.
Harper answered him briefly in the same language. I don’t know what he said, but it shut Fischer up. Harper lit a cigarette. After a moment or two he said: “You’re a stupid crook, aren’t you, Arthur?”
“Sir?”
“If you were a smart one, all you’d be thinking about would be how much dough you could screw out of this deal without getting your fingers caught in the till. But not you. That miserable little ego of yours has to have its kicks, too, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“Yes you do. I don’t like stupid people around me. They make me nervous. I warned you once before. I’m not warning you again. Next time you see a chance of getting cute, you forget it, quick; because if you don’t, that ego’s liable to get damaged permanently.”
It seemed wiser to say nothing.
“You’re not still saying that you don’t understand, Arthur?” He flicked my knee viciously with the back of his hand. The pain startled me and I swerved. He flicked me again. “Watch where you’re going. What’s the matter? Can’t you talk while you’re driving, or has the cat got your tongue?”
“I understand, sir.”
“That’s better. Now you apologize, like a little Egyptian gentleman, to Mr. Fischer.”
“I’m very sorry, sir.”
Fischer, appeased, signified his forgiveness with a short laugh.
The ferry from Uskudar was crowded with returning Sunday motorists and it took half an hour to get on a boat. Miss Lipp and Miller were waiting at the hotel entrance when I pulled up. Miller gave a wolfish grin and, as usual, leaped into the car ahead of Miss Lipp.
“You took your time,” he said to no one in particular.
“The ferry was crowded,” Harper replied. “Did you have a good afternoon?”
It was Miss Lipp who answered him. “Let the dogs be fed and clothed,” she said. It was the same sentence that I had heard Miller cackling over the previous night, and I wondered idly what it could mean.
Harper nodded to her. “Let’s get back to the villa, Arthur,” he said.
None of them uttered a word on the drive back. I sensed a feeling of tension between them, and wondered who was waiting to report to whom. As they got out of the car, Harper picked the cardboard box up off the floor and turned to me.
“That’s it for today, Arthur.”
“What time tomorrow, sir?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“The car is very dusty, sir, and there is no proper hose here. I would like to get it washed at a garage.”
“You do that.” He could not have cared less what I did.
I drove into Sariyer and found a garage where they would wash the car. I left it there and went to a café. I had a drink before I telephoned Tufan.
The written report of the morning had been supplemented by reports from the surveillance