Doctor Criminale

‘The name of your hotel?’ asked Bruckner suddenly. ‘The Zwingli at Ouchy,’ I said, ‘I don’t recommend it at all. It’s a cross between a monastery and a brothel.’ I saw the muscleman look­ing at me. ‘Good, stay there all day tomorrow,’ said Bruckner, ‘Do not leave, I will join you as soon as possible.’ ‘You will?’ I asked. ‘You have done your work well. I congratulate you,’ said Bruckner, ‘He has not spotted you?’ ‘Yes, I had a long talk with him,’ I said. ‘That was careless, but no-matter,’ said Bruckner, ‘Arouse his suspicions no further. You have been a mine of information.’ ‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘What about?’ ‘Now I have something for you,’ said Bruckner, ‘Your quarry, you understand me, has fled hurriedly to Vie

I didn’t sleep well that night. Despite the fact that I was well away from Sigmund’s Vie

Early next morning, just after seven, I hurried down to her room. The door was unlocked; I looked inside. There was her luggage, clothes, shopping bags, shopping, all thrown around in the same disorganized profusion I knew from Barolo. Her trace was everywhere; of her presence, no sign. It was becoming all too familiar, all too u

My first reaction was to hurry up the street in pursuit of her. Then I remembered the instructions of Cosima Bruckner. I went across the street, bought an English newspaper, and brought it back to the hotel café, where I ordered coffee and rolls. I opened the paper to discover that, during my absence, the world had taken the opportunity to fall into terrible confusion. The New World Order was already becoming all too like the Old World order. American troops, tanks and planes were being shipped into Saudi Arabia, and a large international fleet was steaming up the Persian Gulf. Saddam Hussein was crying defiance and threatening to explode a nuclear device. The begi

From time to time I checked the street, hoping to see Ildiko heaving into sight, with, I hoped, as few plastic shopping bags as possible. Once or twice I slipped upstairs to check her room. Her things were there; she was not. Coming downstairs after my third check, I noticed that a pair of black leather trousers stood at the desk, talking to the dour receptionist. I recognized them at once, of course: ‘Miss Bruckner,’ I called. ‘Remember, you have not seen me at all,’ said Cosima to the girl at the desk; then she came over to me and took me by the arm. ‘Please, names are not necessary,’ she said, ‘Ask no questions. Walk quietly outside into the street with me. There you will see a black car. Get into the back of it.’ When Cosima ordered, one somehow obeyed. I have to admit there was something rather thrilling about the world of Cosima Bruckner.

A black Mercedes waited outside the hotel, illegally parked, a severe offence in Switzerland. A driver in dark sunglasses sat behind the wheel. I got in the back; Cosima shoved in beside me. ‘Now, this bank you mentioned,’ she said, ‘The one where Criminale keeps his accounts. You know the name of it?’ ‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘You said you had evidence,’ said Bruckner, ‘What do you know? It is important.’ ‘Has he done something wrong?’ I asked. ‘That does not concern you,’ said Cosima. ‘Well, I did glimpse some bank statement on his desk at Barolo,’ I said, ‘Is there something called the Bruger Zugerbank?’ ‘Ja, ja, Fräulein Bruckner,’ said the driver. ‘Ah, you know it,’ said Cosima, ‘Go there quickly, Hans.’ The car roared up the street. ‘I don’t see how there can be anything wrong with Criminale’s accounts,’ I said, ‘He’s a world-famous author.’ ‘Of course, the perfect cover,’ said Cosima Bruckner. ‘For what?’ I asked, ‘You read too many spy stories, Cosima.’

A little later, Cosima Bruckner and I sat on modernist chairs in the elegant, glass-desked offices of Herr Max Patli, manager of the evidently extensive branch of the Lausa

‘Very well,’ said Cosima Bruckner, ‘Does a Doctor Bazlo Criminale hold an account here?’ ‘An interesting question, Fraulein Bruckner,’ said Herr Patli, ‘He does not, and this I can say definitely.’ ‘You don’t need to check?’ asked Bruckner. ‘No, this is quite u

‘I understand you very well, Herr Patli,’ said Cosima Bruckner, ‘Only one more question. Do you know of other similar accounts in banks in Lausa