The Great Game (21 page)

             
"Cognac?" Ariste asked as she handed the glasses around.

             
"It is the Grande Champagne Cognac d'Epeursé," Frau Schimmer explained, running her hand lightly over the bottle, as though she expected it to purr.

             
Barnett looked at his glass doubtfully. It would be impolite to mention that he preferred beer.

             
"My god!"
Ariste said.
"After all these years?
That it should still exist—that it should still be drinkable—that I should find it here—it is too much. No disrespect meant, dear Frau Schimmer, but this is absolutely incredible!"

             
Frau Schimmer beamed. "It is perhaps the last six bottles left in the world. They were in the cellar when I acquired the villa.
Left here, no doubt, by some fleeing aristocrat during the time of the Terror."

             
Prince Ariste turned to the others. "Drink it gently," he said. "This is the cognac of kings. From the time of Louis the thirteenth, who was known as Louis the Just, to the time of Louis the sixteenth, who lost his head, the kings of France drank d'Epeursé cognac. And even they had to save it for special occasions, there was so little of it produced."

             
"Well!" Barnett looked at his glass with new respect. "Marie Antoinette," he said.
"Anne of Austria.
Madame du Pompadore.
The Sun King."

             
"And perhaps, when Louis the fourteenth entertained Voltaire, he broke out the d'Epeursé—or perhaps not," Prince Ariste commented. "After all, what sort of palate could be expected of a philosopher?"

             
Princess Diane smiled. "A toast?" she suggested.

             
Prince Ariste raised his glass. "To—" he thought for a moment. "To friendship," he said finally. "For, as the Hebrew sage Solomon said, '
A
faithful friend is a strong defense, and he that hath found such a one hath found a treasure.' "

             
Barnett felt a warm glow of pleasure. Such a sentiment from such a man was almost worth getting blown up to receive. "To friendship," he repeated, and the three ladies echoed the words in the same breath.

             
"Let us toast our good-byes with the cognac of vanished royalty," Prince Ariste said. "Let us pledge to remain faithful even though the world changes, and be reminded by this noble liquor that it does, indeed, change."

             
"It is my husband's great tragedy that, having been born a prince, he couldn't become a philosopher," Princess Diane said.

             
"But I think that's all to the good. He is a very happy prince, but he would be a very sad philosopher. Whenever he speaks of the habits, the entertainments, or the fate of the human race, he gets very serious and makes me cry."

             
Prince Ariste turned to stare at his wife in astonishment. "Why I never realized," he said. "I promise never to be serious again."

             
Early the next morning, after a farewell breakfast, Benjamin and Cecily stood at the front door of the villa with Frau Schimmer and a gaggle of the villa's employees and watched the Buleforte-Juchtenbergs ride off in a post-chaise, with a brace of armed outriders to assure that the tranquility of the northern Italian countryside was preserved.

             
"I hope they're all right," Cecily said, as the carriage wheeled out of the gravel driveway and off down the road.

             
"I do too," Barnett said soberly. He stood there staring at the receding dust cloud while the others retreated indoors from the brisk morning air. And then, suddenly, he broke out laughing. "He's a prince and she's a princess, and they live in a big white chateau on a hill—with two hundred rooms—and we're wondering if they're all right."

             
Cecily drew her wool shawl around her shoulders and shook her head. "To be living in fear—"

             
"They should be safe enough," Barnett said. "They'll be well protected from now on. If anyone is still targeting them, he'll have his work cut out."

             
"Would you trade places with them?" Cecily asked.

             
Barnett considered. "No," he said, "but not through fear. I enjoy my work, and would not choose to give it up, not even to live in a large white chateau and have people tug at their forelocks as I drove past. Why the poor man can't even find a decent game of bridge!"

             
Mummer Tolliver, a great green scarf wrapped around his neck, slipped out the front door and came over to join them.
" 'E's
left, you know," he said, stamping his patent-leather shoes on the gravel.

             
"Who?"

             
"That German fellow.
Lindner.
Late last night 'e took off in a dog-cart what come up for 'im.
Bags and baggage, parcels and paints.
All gone."

             
"Interesting."
Barnett said.

             
"Either he was not watching us, or he has done watching us," Cecily commented. "I wonder which."

             
" 'E
were watching you," the mummer said. "How do you know?"

             
"I
knows
," the mummer said. "I, in my turn,
were
watching 'im. You told me to watch 'im, and watch 'im I did. Who says I didn't?"

             
"Very good, Mummer," Cecily said. "You have again shown that intelligence and perspicacity upon which we have grown to depend. Let us go back inside and discuss this."

             
They returned to the sitting room of their suite. "Well, Mummer," Barnett said, settling onto one side of the well-worn faded blue chintz couch that took up most of one side of the room. "Let's have it."

             
"When you was downstairs last afternoon, socializing with them Bulefortes," the mummer explained, perching himself on the edge of a hardback chair so that his feet stayed on the ground, "I set myself to keep a steady glom on this Lindner. Being as 'ow you hadn't relieved me of the responsibility, if you see what I mean."

             
"You were watching him?"

             
"Not 'im, exactly.
I was more like watching the door to 'is room. After ascertaining, you might say, that 'e was indeed in residence. 'Ere's 'ow it goes. I takes up my station in a convenient broom closet what was only a bit down the hall, settles comfortable-like on a pile o' dirty sheets and towels, and waits; peering through the keyhole whenever I 'ears a noise. I don't expect
nothing
in particular, you understands, I are merely doing my job.
So, after about a half-hour, that's when 'e comes out, and I sees where 'e goes."
The mummer paused for emphasis.

             
"Mummer, you have a compelling narrative style," Cecily said. "Please continue."

             
"Straight, 'e goes, up to your door—that is, the door to your room, if you see what I mean, and 'e knocks on 'er. Then 'e knocks again. But you're not 'ome, o'course."

             
"Of course," Barnett agreed. "He was just making sure that we were still downstairs."

             
"You've got it," the mummer said approvingly. "Then the bloke takes a key from 'is waistcoat pocket, unlocks your door bold as brass, and strolls in."

             
"Leaving you in the hall," Barnett said. "What a shame. It would be interesting to know what he was interested in among our belongings."

             
" 'E
were not interested in your belongings rightly at all," the mummer said.
" 'E
were interested in your communications, you might say."

             
"How's that?"

             
"Tell us all," Cecily said. "This is most interesting."

             
"Well, as soon as Lindner goes through the door to the sitting room, I
leaves
my closet and enters the suite through the other door, the one to Mrs. Barnett's dressing room, which, you will recollect, uses the same key. Then I sneaks up to the connecting door, which is ajar, and, laying myself flat on the carpet, peers around the edge of the door to watch what 'e is doing in the sitting room."

             
"Very good!"
Cecily said approvingly.

             
"What 'e is doing is going methodical-like through all the papers on the writing-desk and in your portmanteau
. '
E looks carefully through the lot o' them, being extra-careful not to disturb their arrangement as 'e does so. 'E takes a writing pad out of 'is pocket and jots down a couple of notes as to the contents of these 'ere papers. Then 'e leaves the premises."

             
"What papers?" Barnett asked.

             
"A fair question," the mummer said. "I don't know what papers, as I didn't 'ave no chance to peruse them myself. But it was that very pile o' documents right there," and he pointed across the room to the writing desk.

             
Barnett went over to examine the small stack of papers on the desk. "It's our travel documents and such," he said.
"Our tickets for the
vapore
tomorrow, the telegram confirming our reservations at the Jaegerhof in Innsbruck for the day after tomorrow.
The reply to my telegram to the Paris office.
Nothing worth the trouble of peering at, I would think."

             
"I guess his needs are different than ours," Cecily said. "Clearly he needed to know where we are going.
"

             
"
But why?"
Barnett asked.

             
"After 'e leaves this 'ere room," the mummer continued
, "
'e goes back to 'is own room. By now I is very curious about what this gent is doing so I determines to find out."

             
"The secret police lost a fine agent when you decided to become a pickpocket, Mummer," Barnett commented.

             
"It wasn't my choice," the mummer said. "It was my father
. '
E felt that a chap should have a trade that 'e can fall back on, 'e did."

             
"So what happened?" Cecily demanded. "Did you get into the room?"

             
"O' course I did," the mummer said. "Who says I didn't?
"

             
"
Go on," Barnett said.

             
Tolliver took a butcher-paper package from his jacket pocket and
unwrapped
a length of baguette stuffed with butter and Swiss cheese. "If you don't mind me eating and talking," he said, tucking his handkerchief under his chin and taking a bite.

             
"There's some bottled water on the dresser," Cecily said, getting up. "I'll get you a glass."

             
Mummer nodded his thanks, took another bite, and went on, "Well, after 'e's been in 'is room for a while, with me hiding in the hall closet as before, 'e comes out with a towel round his neck, so I riggers 'e's going to the bathroom down the hall. So I
takes
the opportunity to sniggle myself into 'is room."