Doctor Criminale

Trying to delight Ildiko a little, though it was plainly going to be a formidable job, I opened up the guidebook and read to her about the delights of Ouchy. ‘“Famous people sit on the terraces to watch the students and pretty girls go by and meet with other locals, or travellers from afar, perhaps experts at an international congress taking time off to savour life,”’ I read. I looked up; Ildiko was already watching some traveller from afar, probably an expert from an international congress, stop a girl in a tight-rumped skirt, give her money, and go off with her up the street. ‘You see that!’ she cried, ‘There is sex in Switzerland. They do it just like everyone else!’ ‘I’m sure,’ I said, ‘They just do it differently.’ ‘So why must I be the only one in a room alone?’ asked Ildiko. This should only take a couple of days,’ I said, ‘I’ve already tracked down Bazlo Criminale.’ ‘So where is he?’ she asked. ‘Cosima was right, he is staying at the Beau Rivage Palace,’ I said. ‘He is, and I am not,’ said Ildiko, ‘You went there? You saw him?’

‘No, I just called on the telephone,’ I said. ‘Oh, how?’ asked Ildiko, turning to me, ‘In my room there is not a telephone. Also no shower, no toilet. I have to walk half a kilometre just to make a little pee.’ ‘You just go down to the booth in the lobby,’ I said, Then you get a little counter from the desk.’ To pee?’ asked Ildiko. To telephone,’ I said. ‘So you called Bazlo?’ asked Ildiko,. ‘How is he? Is his room very nice? Is toilet included?’ ‘I didn’t actually talk to him,’ I said, The Beau Rivage looks after its guests very carefully.’ ‘How wonderful,’ she said. ‘Apparently some Middle East talks are going on over there,’ I said, The place is full of Arab potentates with their own security guards. You have to answer all these questions about who you are.’ ‘And did you know?’ asked Ildiko, ‘I don’t think so.’ ‘I told them I was a close friend of Criminale’s Hungarian publisher,’ I said. ‘You did that?’ asked Ildiko, furiously, ‘Well, you are not. I do not want him to know I am here.’ ‘Why not?’ I asked, ‘An hour ago you wanted to share a hotel corridor with him.’ ‘Because he is with Belli,’ said Ildiko. There was no doubt about it; Ildiko, as I’d noticed before, was a mass of Hungarian contradictions.

‘Is Belli really with him?’ she now asked, looking up at me. ‘I don’t know,’ I said, ‘He’d left instructions with the desk not to be disturbed. He said he was in the middle of some very important congress.’ ‘Yes, you see, with Belli,’ said Ildiko. ‘Not that sort of congress,’ I said, ‘They said he was attending some big conference here. And you know the more I think about that, the less it makes sense.’ ‘Well, you don’t understand anything, I think,’ said Ildiko, ‘Why doesn’t it make sense?’ ‘Look, here’s Criminale,’ I said, ‘He breaks with his previous life, he runs away from his wife, he comes to Lausa

‘Do you know what I think?’ asked Ildiko, ‘I think I would like a very big ice-cream.’ ‘Isn’t it a bit cold for that?’ I asked. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll survive,’ said Ildiko, waving at the miserable waiter who stood halfheartedly in the doorway, ‘You know, really you do not understand a single thing about Bazlo Criminale.’ That’s very likely,’ I said, ‘In fact he baffles me completely. One minute he’s the world most famous philosopher, the next he’s off screwing around.’ ‘He is a philosopher, he has to do something with himself when he’s not thinking,’ said Ildiko, ‘Also he has to do something with his mind when he is not screwing. And this is his life today, congress after congress. You do not have to give up one for the other. Or maybe you do, but not Criminale Bazlo.’ ‘But if you were on the run, would you show up on the platform at a congress?’ I asked. ‘Why do you say he is on the run?’ said Ildiko, ‘Only because you listen too much to your nice little Miss Black Trousers.’ ‘No, I don’t,’ I said. ‘She is crazy, didn’t I tell you?’ asked Ildiko, ‘What is Criminale supposed to have done wrong? Why is he always a crook? Why do you like to accuse him?’

‘I’m not saying he’s done something wrong,’ I said, ‘I think the stuff about fraud is nonsense.’ ‘Good,’ said Ildiko, accepting her ice-cream from the waiter. ‘I’m saying it’s no way to spend a dirty weekend. When he’s out at his congress what happens to poor Miss Belli?’ ‘Oh, listen to him now,’ said Ildiko, ‘So thoughtful about other women. At least he shares his room with her. What about your dirty weekend with me?’ ‘We can enjoy ourselves when we’ve caught up with him,’ I said, ‘Anyway, after we’ve had some di

‘So what do you suggest we do, then?’ I asked. ‘I know, tomorrow you go to his congress,’ said Ildiko, ‘What is the name of it?’ ‘That’s the problem,’ I said, ‘When I asked the clerk at the Beau Rivage, he couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me.’ ‘It is not hard,’ said Ildiko, ‘I don’t suppose there are so many congresses in Lausa

Ildiko licked her fingers and took the guidebook from me. ‘You are hopeless again, let me see it,’ she said, ‘If you were just a little bit clever, you would know at once which one it is.’ ‘All right, which one is it?’ I asked. ‘That one,’ said Ildiko, putting her finger against one of the entries. I looked, and saw at once that, as the French say, Ildiko had reason. She was pointing to the entry for an International Congress on Erotics in Postmodern Photography, held under the auspices of the Musée Cantonal de l’Elysée, from the day previous to our arrival to a couple of days forward. ‘You’re brilliant, do you know that?’ I said. ‘And you are not, do you know that?’ asked Ildiko, pouting, and then sucking furiously at her ice-cream again, ‘So all you must do tomorrow is get yourself included in the congress on erotic photography.’ ‘What about you?’ I asked. ‘Tomorrow I like to do some other things,’ she said. ‘Oh no,’ I said, ‘Not shopping.’ ‘No, I must call my office and tell them I am not there.’ ‘Surely they’d notice,’ I said. ‘Well, you don’t notice when I am not there,’ said Ildiko.