Trojan Gold - Elizabeth Peters [122]
“Yes, I understand that,” Tony admitted. “He wanted an excuse for being here, if one of us spotted him—”
“And it got Jan Perlmutter here as well. Jan was supposed to be the fall guy in case things went wrong. That’s why he got a clue you and the others didn’t get. Dieter never meant you to show up; and he only brought Elise along as camouflage.”
“It’s an awfully complicated, convoluted plot,” Tony said.
“Dieter had a complicated, convoluted mind—as evidenced by some of his practical jokes. We’ll never know for certain why he killed Freddy, but Freddy was a danger to him all along; he knew Dieter’s identity and wasn’t above a spot of blackmail. Tossing the body into my garden was just another little spot of confusion. Then Friedl started to crack. Her nice simple little plan of finding the loot and peddling it through Dieter had taken on alarming dimensions and the treasure was still missing. She was jealous of him—look at the way she flew off the handle after she found out he had come to my room—and more than a little afraid of him. She was ready to confess, I’m sure; he realized it too, and got rid of her; called both of us, imitating her voice, to set us up. The more suspects, the better.”
“I guess that clears most of it up,” Tony said.
“Not quite all.” I folded my arms. “I didn’t have a chance to give you my Christmas present, Tony, and now I can’t find the card—Clara must have chewed it up. So I will eschew subtleties and say straight out, What the hell is the idea of lying to me about imaginary Annie?”
Tony blushed. “Oh,” he muttered. “I was afraid you had figured that all out.”
“You were right. Well?”
Tony sprang from his chair and wrapped his arms around me. “You know why, Vicky. Damn it, you’ve been putting me off for years. I thought if you thought—”
“A little reverse psychology?”
“Right. Vicky, I’m crazy about you. You know that. I always will be. Won’t you—”
“No. I’m sorry, Tony.”
I didn’t try to free myself. After a moment, his arms relaxed their hold. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“He,” I said, without thinking.
“Dammit, don’t criticize my grammar when I’m baring my soul to you,” Tony shouted. “And don’t laugh at me!”
“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, Tony.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“Oh, sure. Not that that has anything to do with it.”
Tony flapped his arms. “I don’t get it.”
“Don’t try. It doesn’t even make sense to me. Let’s get going. We’ll have a nice, friendly, belated Christmas Eve tonight, before you leave for Turin in the morning. I hope and trust that by this time the police have removed Freddy; his presence might cast a certain pall over the celebration. We’ll stop by Carl’s and pick up Caesar and introduce him to…What’s taking Schmidt so long?”
“‘Peace! Break thee off,’” said Tony; “‘look where it comes again!’”
He had recovered sufficiently to smile and to quote Shakespeare, so I decided my refusal hadn’t broken his heart after all. “‘Angels and ministers of grace defend us!” I agreed. “What happened to you, Schmidt?’”
As Schmidt pointed out, at some length, the answer was self-evident. He had Clara clamped under one arm, and his other hand held her jaws closed. Both hands were crisscrossed by bleeding scratches. Clara’s blazing eyes and muffled growls indicated that though temporarily overpowered, she was not subdued. She didn’t scratch me or Tony. She bit Tony, and she squirmed and howled when I tried to free her from the red ribbon tied around her neck. The bow was under her chin, and so lacerated I had to cut the ribbon off. It took all three of us to cram her in the carrier I had bought that morning.
“Cats hate bows,” I explained to Schmidt, who was sucking his wounds. “It was a pretty thought, Schmidt, but—”
“Do you think I would be so stupid?” Schmidt demanded. “I did not put the ribbon on her. I thought you had. She was in the wardrobe; that is why it took me so long to find her, and when I did, she—”
“I see what she did.” I turned the ribbon over in my hands. A small package had been tied firmly to the bow. Clara’s teeth had