The Saint and the Hapsburg Necklace (31 page)

“But you are!”

The Saint frowned.

“I must be a bit dense,” he said.
“But you’ll have to explain
that.”

“You did save the Hapsburg Necklace.
The
real one.”

Simon felt that if Frankie hadn’t lost her
mind, he must be
losing his. And Leopold’s face testified that he was in
the
same condition.

“When was that?” Simon asked, with
the kind of patience
one employs to humour a maniac.

“Ever since you got me out of Schloss
Este.”

“And where is it now?”

“In a vault at Sch
ö
llers Bank. I put it there today.”

“Do you mind telling us how, when and
where you got it?”
asked the Saint, with superhuman restraint.

“In Schloss Este, where I told you it
was.”

“But how?” demanded Leopold, almost frothing at the
mouth.

“Very simple. It was in the dungeon
where it was supposed
to be.”

“And the fake necklace?” asked the
Saint. “Was that there
too?”

She made a moue.

“Don’t be silly. I took that with me, to
be stolen, as I knew
it might be.”

The Saint inhaled long and deeply.

“Where did you hide the real one?”

“Attached to a cord around my waist,
under my last pet
ticoat”

At last he could only laugh.

“Well, we almost got down to it, didn’t
we?”

Leopold was shaking and his face had gone
from red to
white.

“You made a fool of me. That is one
thing we Denksdorffs
never permit.”

Frankie’s smile was wicked.

“Perhaps your family motto should be ‘We
only make fools
of ourselves.’ “

The Saint felt sorry for the young man.
Frankie was being
unnecessarily cruel.

The arrival of their first course, and the
opening and tasting of a bottle of Willm Gewurztraminer, made a sorely needed
interlude.

Frankie herself must have realised that she
risked going too
far. As soon as the waiters had dispersed again, she
said:
“Darling Leopold! You are behaving like a hero in a romantic
novel.”

He gave her a look which was filled with both love and
hate.

“And you are behaving like a spoiled
child!”

“I do think it’s time you stopped
tormenting us,” Simon in
tervened peaceably. “So you were smart
enough not to trust
anybody. I can’t say I blame you. But I’m sure it wasn’t
Leopold
you were afraid of.”

“I knew all along that Max was out to
get the Necklace,”
she said.

“But it was you who introduced him to
me,” Leopold said.

She shrugged.

“Everyone in Austria knows he’s a crook. Everyone but
you, mein
Liebchen.
You are the original
pure knight on a white charger. You do no evil and see no evil. But Max is a
showpiece.
That is why he is so popular in Austria. We like
amusing rogues.”

“But why did you allow him to become our
partner then?”

“He was just the man I wanted. ‘Set a
thief to catch a thief’
is an old proverb. But that works in another
way too. You
could say ‘Set a thief to steal something!’ Max had all
the
skills, crookedness, money and organisation that I needed. He lent us
all of them—
nicht wahr?”

The Saint could not help admiring this girl. She had caused
him a lot of trouble but she certainly had what it
took. It might indeed be pleasant to find out what it did take with
her, just so long as he gave away nothing himself.

“You could have told me,” Leopold said angrily.

“Yes, and I was afraid that if I did, my
dear cousin, you
might let the cat out of the bag. You are so
impetuous.”

“But what made you so sure that in the end you would be
more clever than Max?”

“I was not altogether sure at first.” Frankie’s smile
was
shamelessly gamine. “But after I
had the Saint on my side, I
was
sure.”

Simon’s admiration for this girl deepened. She
was
confirming much of what he had guessed, but he did not
know many
women who would have had the nerve and the
gambler’s instinct to act in the almost
Saint-like way that she
had all along.

He raised his glass to her again.

“I’m glad I was around,” he
murmured. “Well, so we go
our various ways. And what’s yours?”

“I’m going to the Semmering for a bit of
skiing,” she
replied. “Wouldn’t you like to come?” she
added, batting her
eyelashes at him provocatively.

“I’d love to, but with Schicklgruber in the saddle there may
be more serious things to think about.” He
turned to Leo
pold. “And what
are your plans?”

The young man’s eyes were wide and almost desperate.

“I am going to marry Frankie,” he
announced thunder
ously, as if he were an archduke declaring a bazaar
open. “She
needs to be settled down.”

“I hope you can do it for her,” said
the Saint. “I can’t
imagine a better match. The fact that she is
twenty years
older than you shouldn’t be any handicap at all.”

Leopold looked at him in amazement.

“What do you mean? We are practically
the same age.”

“All women are twenty years older than
any man.”

Frankie blew Simon a kiss.

“Except you.” Her eyes met the
Saint’s steadily. “I wonder
if you will meet Max Annellatt again one day.
He would cer
tainly be disguised.”

“I’ll still recognise him,” said
the Saint, “if he’s wearing his
old school Thai.”

WATCH FOR THE SIGN

OF THE SAINT

 
HE WILL BE BACK