The Stranger - Max Frei [160]
“He doesn’t want to get mixed up with us, that’s for sure,” I said nodding.
“With the Secret Investigative Force? Stands to reason. There’s something fishy about this pâté.”
“Was that all the news?”
“No, there’s more. Do you know where Boboota ate yesterday?”
“Gosh, it wasn’t here, was it?”
“It most certainly was. And it wasn’t the first time. It turns out that General Boboota developed a passion for luxury a dozen days ago. And recently he’s been eating exclusively at the Hunchback.”
“I don’t think his salary is less than ours; but every day, that’s a bit excessive!”
A curious and thrifty little fellow with an inordinate interest in Boboota’s pocketbook suddenly took over in me.
“Oh, it’s much less, Max. A general of the Police Force makes half as much as an ordinary Secret Investigator. Didn’t you know?”
“Well, that proves my point. I don’t like the sound of this, Melifaro. Not one bit. From what I know of fellows like Boboota, they don’t like throwing their money around on the sly. They want everyone to see them. And here . . . these idiotic private booths! Like some underworld den. It’s convenient for a fellow like me. I can lose my appetite when I’m surrounded by the unpleasant faces of total strangers. But that can’t be a problem for Boboota. Why would he eat in such an expensive place, if not to let everyone see him indulging his taste buds in solitary contemplation?”
“What’s a ‘den,’ Max?” Melifaro asked. “You’re a fount of new words today.”
I scratched my head. How do I explain what a den is? And why were the characters of my favorite books, with Sherlock Holmes leading the procession, always hanging around in ‘dens’? Oh, right, to smoke opium! And how did those visits sometimes end up? Right! Poor Boboota. But would someone mind telling me how opium would have found its way into Echo? And of what possible use it would be for people who can absolutely openly and legally, in the company of their families at home, partake of their Soup of Repose and boggle their minds to their heart’s content?
“Kofa didn’t happen to say which booth Boboota had eaten in, did he?”
“Just a second, I’ll ask.”
Melifaro again seemed to turn to stone, this time only briefly.
“Great,” he said in a moment. “People always take notice when it’s such a renowned person. Several times Boboota was seen coming out of the far booth—the one on the right, if you’re standing at the entrance.”
“Excellent!” I said. “That’s just where I wanted to go. How about you, Melifaro?”
“Absolutely! Shall we go now, or after we eat?”
“However we can, without being noticed.”
“Why?” Melifaro asked in surprise. “Do you think anyone would dare try to stop us?”
“No. But all the same, I don’t want anyone to see us. We Borderlanders are so shy and inscrutable.”
“Yes, especially when you’ve had a drop too much of Elixir of Kaxar. Well, if you don’t want anyone to notice us, so be it. How do you suggest we pull it off?”
“For a start, we tactfully send a call to that booth, to find out whether anyone is there. If there is, we’ll just have to wait while they split their sides laughing. If not, we’ll have to hurry before someone comes. Shall we?”
“I’m only doing it for your sake. Yes, there’s one fellow in there. A very sleepy one! He didn’t notice a thing. He didn’t even twitch.”
“Well, we’re in luck. That means we’ll have time to eat.”
“I hope so. I was already starving when we were in the Archive, if you’ll remember. Then what will we do?”
“Nothing much. We’ll wait till that gloomy damsel returns to the kitchen. Then we’ll just slip into the booth and find out how it