Doctor Criminale

Still, it seemed a nice family place: neat, clean, and orderly, in the good Swiss way. The Swiss had, after all, won the world with their tradition of hotelkeeping and hospitality, and one could scarcely go wrong. I went over to the stern young daughter of the house who presided over the cubbyhole of a reception desk; she acknowledged they had vacant rooms and quoted what sounded a reasonable rate. With Ildiko standing crossly beside me, I signed the book (Mr and Mrs Francis Jay), changed some money, lira to Swiss francs, handed over our passports, and asked for a double room. That was when I found out that the Hotel Zwingli did have one or two disadvantages that the better class of guest over at the Beau Rivage Palace, just round the corner, was very probably spared. The girl handed me two keys. ‘No, a double room,’ I said. ‘With nice big double bed,’ said Ildiko. ‘Ah, non, m’sieu,’ said the girl.

‘Non?’ I asked. The girl held up our two passports, one British and one Hungarian, with two unmatching names, and tapped them. ‘Voilà, m’sieu!’ she said triumphantly. ‘But we’re together,’ I said. ‘Ce n’est pas possible, en Suisse,’ said the girl. Now of course I should at that moment have cancelled the contract, and gone looking for something elsewhere along the Ouchy shore, or maybe just handed over a small tip. But I was young then, the hotel was cheap, cheap enough for even Lavinia not to complain, and Bazlo Criminale was just round the corner. ‘Oh, very well, two single rooms then,’ I said, taking the keys. ‘C’est mieux, m’sieu,’ said the girl. ‘Two single rooms, why?’ asked Ildiko, looking at me mystified. ‘Switzerland is a Calvinist country,’ I said. ‘You mean they don’t have sex here?’ asked Ildiko. ‘I’m sure they do,’ I said, ‘There are plenty of them about. But maybe only on Protestant feast days.’ ‘But you don’t like this, do you?’ asked Ildiko, ‘Why don’t you protest? Maybe she likes a little something.’ ‘It’s no use,’ I said, ‘This is a very strict country. They like you to mind your ma

I saw the girl at the desk staring at us with deep disapproval; I pulled Ildiko away. ‘It’s very unfortunate,’ I said, ‘but at least they’ve got room for us.’ ‘You think they make Bazlo Criminale and Miss Blasted Belli have two single rooms there at Beau Rivage Palace?’ asked Ildiko. ‘I can’t afford the Beau Rivage Palace,’ I said, ‘And it’s just for a couple of days.’ ‘A couple of days?’ asked Ildiko, ‘You don’t mind to be without me in your bed for a whole couple of days?’ ‘Of course I mind,’ I said. ‘Are you so tired at making love with me?’ asked Ildiko, rather loudly, ‘Don’t you like my body so much any more?’ ‘I love your body,’ I said, glancing at the girl at the desk, who was tapping her pencil furiously, ‘It’s a terrific body, really. But we can meet from time to time . . .’ ‘Where, in the corridor?’ asked Ildiko, ‘What fun.’ ‘Let’s go and unpack,’ I said, turning to the girl at the desk, ‘Where’s the elevator?’ ‘II n’y en a pas,’ said the girl, ‘Par 1’escalier.’ ‘Oh, no lift also?’ asked Ildiko, ‘Wonderful. How lucky the Swiss have at last invented stairs.’

So our visit to Lausa

‘I will tell you what Criminale Bazlo is up to in Lausa

I had scarcely reached the foot of the next staircase when her door was flung open again. ‘There is no shower!’ she shouted after me. ‘Try along the corridor,’ I suggested. ‘I don’t want to try along the corridor!’ she cried. A door along the corridor opened and a maid peered out. ‘M’sieu, madame, taisez-vous!’ she said. I had just reached the next landing when I heard her voice shouting up the stairwell again. ‘Francis! No toilet either! Nowhere to take a pee! Pig! Pig! Pig!’ My own room was no more comfortable, and it had, of course, no telephone. I had to go back down to the lobby again and speak to the disapproving girl at the desk, who handed me some jetons and pointed me to a telephone booth in the corner. Under her stern gaze I called the desk at the Beau Rivage Palace. After a complicated conversation I really found out only one thing. Bruckner was right; a Doctor Bazlo Criminale had taken a suite for a few days and was indeed in residence.

I went back to my room, lay on the lumpy bed, and thought for a while. What was honest, if flexible, Bazlo Criminale doing here? He had fled from Barolo and come to Lausa

She was already sitting on the tiny glazed terrace that lay outside the hotel, wearing the ‘I ♥ Lausa