I stood with my back against a precarious mountain of soap boxes and watched their dainty hands fly over the register keys, watched them bend down to pack their sales into paper sacks, noting particularly the gaping of their blouses as they performed these necessary chores. It added nothing toward the solution of my problem, of course, but at least it was a pleasant respite in a day that was beginning to promise nothing but failure. And suddenly remembering that fact brought my mind back to business, and once again, I started back through the aisles.
Well, to make a long story short, I spent another fruitless two hours wandering through that hungry crowd, and for all the good it did, I might just as well have stayed home with the housemaid. I saw, of course, all the obvious possibilities, such as backing a truck up to the rear door and simply carting away a load of things, but I was sure that these had been thoroughly checked. And so, with one last adoring look at the beautiful girls at the check-out counters, I finally gave up and headed back toward my cousin’s home.
I walked slowly, reviewing everything I had seen on my tour of the huge premises, but other than the beauty of the girls, I could think of nothing even worth recalling. As a rule, I do not mind failure; in my life, it has occurred rather frequently and I have learned to be philosophical about it. I did, of course, mind the loss of the ten-thousand-franc reward, but since I saw no way of earning it, I put that thought aside as well, and allowed my memory to drift back to the girls at the check-out counters. And then, all at once, I saw the entire scheme.
Of course! Simple — as I knew it would have to be — and beautiful — as all truly great schemes are! It came to me so complete, it struck me so sharply, that I stopped dead in my tracks, and a lady behind me, pushing a pram, bumped into me; but after my ordeal with shopping carts that morning, I barely noticed it. She pushed past me, muttering darkly, but I paid no attention. My mind was racing, for immediately upon comprehending the scheme, I had also seen a way to improve upon it — or at least, to improve upon it as far as I, personally, was concerned. I must have stood in that spot for at least ten minutes, reviewing the entire thing in my mind, before I turned about and started back to the supermarket.
The line at the manager’s counter was, as were all the others, quite long, but I placed myself at its end and waited patiently, eyeing the girls at the other counters appreciatively until my turn came.
When at last I faced the manager, he looked up with a frown when he noted that I had no merchandise with me.
“Monsieur,” I said, “if I could speak with you a moment...”
He glared at me impatiently. “Solicitations are not allowed, and if you are selling anything, we do no purchasing here,” he said brusquely. “All that is handled at the central office. And now, if you will pardon me...”
I bent over and whispered something in his ear. His hand, which had already been reaching for a package from the next customer, froze. His eyes widened, then closed for several moments, then reopened. For a period of at least ten seconds, he said nothing; he merely stared at me with horror. And then, as I knew he would, he pushed down a small gate that directed the customer to go to a different line, and led me into his office.
Our conversation was short but quite pointed. When I walked out, I left behind me a disappointed man, it is true — but also a greatly relieved man. In a way, I felt sorry for him, because he had invented a truly great scheme, but unfortunately, in this life, one must always look out for oneself, and the failure of his plan was definitely necessary to the success of my own.
Well, as you can well believe, I returned to my cousin’s home at a much more spritely pace, let myself in and went directly to the library. As usual, on a Saturday afternoon, Stavros was seated at his desk going over his personal accounts. At my entrance, he looked up, and at the expression on my face — for I am no great dissembler — he jumped excitedly to his feet and hurried in my direction.
“Kek! You have discovered it!” he exclaimed. His tone was a neat blend of hope and disbelief.
“I have,” I said, as modestly as I could under the circumstances, and proceeded to pour myself a drink.
“Wonderful! Marvelous!” He was almost beside himself with joy. “One morning in the supermarket and you find what a dozen detectives were unable to locate in four months. Fantastic! And when I think of what they cost me...” He swallowed the balance of this thought as being economically unsuitable for expression. He stared at me almost proudly. “How did they work it?”
I did my best to look shocked. “That was not our bargain,” I said reprovingly. “I agreed — in return for ten thousand francs — to discover the scheme and put a stop to it. That was all you asked of me. I did not agree to disclose it.”
His face fell. “So!” he said heavily. “You did not really discover it! I should have known better! You are merely attempting...”
I held up my hand. “As a guest in your house,” I said, “permit me to prevent you from insulting me. I said I discovered the means by which you have systematically been swindled, and I have.” I walked over and seated myself on the corner of his desk, taking, of course, my drink with me. “Tell me,” I said, “how long will it take you and your auditors to determine that I am telling the truth? How long will it take your financial experts to discover that the losses have stopped?”
He frowned at me in great indecision. My cousin, despite his many good qualities, such as an unerring palate for brandy and a sharp eye for presentable housemaids, suffers from a suspicious nature. “I will have a good indication within a week,” he said slowly. “And in two weeks I can be absolutely certain.”
“Good!” I said heartily. “Then, giving you two weeks to acquire your absolute certainty, I shall expect your check for ten thousand francs. Fortunately,” I added aloofly, “I prevented you from saying anything that would require — in addition to the money — an apology.” And I started to rise
“Wait!” he said. He shook his head and began to pace back and forth. It was evident that he did not like the situation. He swallowed once or twice and finally came out with what was on his mind. “Why?” he enquired plaintively, “Why won’t you tell me the scheme?”
“I’ll tell you in two weeks,” I said
You’ll tell me the scheme in two weeks?” he asked. Hope had returned to his voice.
“No,” I said politely. “In two weeks, I’ll tell you why I won’t tell you.”
And with that I downed my drink and started for the door. It had occurred to me that I had missed lunch, and besides on a Saturday afternoon, I had become accustomed to a nap. I could almost feel his eyes burning through my back as I turned the handle of the door.
Kek Huuygens paused and smiled at me. “Of course,” he said apologetically, “now that I’ve explained everything, you can see the wonderful scheme, and my subsequent plan, so you can now understand why I was forced to ask for your promise of secrecy...”
“I see nothing of the sort!” I’m afraid my voice rose a bit. “I do not see the scheme, nor do I see your plan, nor do I understand the need for my silence! As a matter of fact...”
He held up a hand to stop the flow of my language and looked at me almost with pity. “Well,” he said, “have another brandy and you soon will.” He called over the waiter, and then looked at me again and shrugged for my stupidity. “Prosit,” he said, holding up his glass.