Fabian was waiting for me in front of the bank in his dapper Tyrolean outfit. He was as healthy-looking as ever and no one could have suspected that he had sat up half the night losing thirty thousand dollars. He smiled charmingly as I walked up to him, then frowned at what must have been the expression on my face. I say, old man, is something wrong?' he said.
I didn't know where to begin, so I said, 'Everything is dandy.'
'I heard about Eunice. Leaving. I mean. I imagine that was a blow to you.' He was the essence of discreet sympathy,
'First things first.' I said. 'Let's do our banking.' I would discuss Eunice with him another time, when I had cooled down and there was no danger that I would hit him on the jaw.
'Sorry about, that,' he said, as he took me by the elbow and guided me into the bank. 'Sloane had a lifetime's worth of luck last night. I gave him an IOU. He wants it all in cash. I promised it by four this afternoon. I’ve already called Zurich to send it over, but there are certain formalities...' He shrugged. 'Swiss bankers.'
We went in and were quizzed by a young man in a back room, who then called our bank in Zurich and spoke lengthily in German. He kept looking up from the phone at Fabian and myself, and I gathered that he was describing us minutely. He asked me for my passport number and luckily I remembered it. After about fifteen-minutes' conversation with Zurich, he hung up and said, 'Very good, gentlemen; the money will be ready at four o'clock.'
When we were out of the bank, Fabian said, 'I promised Lily I'd ski with her this afternoon. No need to let her in on the drama, is there?'
No,' I said.
I could use a little air and exercise after last night,' he said. It wasn't exactly a health cure.' It was the one intimation that the hours of play had not been completely enjoyable. He stopped as we reached the car, which he had parked a few yards away from the bank. 'I say, Douglas, I'm concerned about you. You do look glum. It's only money, after all. We're still far ahead of the game...'
"That's not why I look glum.' I said, and told him about the visit of the policeman. I didn't tell him about Didi Wales or Eunice or prowling around the halls.
He chuckled, as though I had told him a mildly funny story. 'Did you take the necklace?' he asked.
'God damn it. Miles,' I said, 'what sort of man do you think I am?'
'I'm only beginning to know you, old boy,' he said. 'And after all, you have been around hotels for quite a few years.'
'One hotel,' I said. 'And the most anyone could pick up there would be a pair of dime-store cuff links.' /
'May I remind you that you did better than that?' he said coolly. For the first time I realized that he could believe that I might have done it. 'Considerably better than that.'
'Oh, shit,' I said. 'Let's go skiing.'
We didn't speak in the car driving back to the hotel. It was not the happiest day of our partnership.
Fabian skied fairly well, making the right movements just a little bit wrongly. He had obviously had a good deal of instruction. He was not reckless, and I kept far enough ahead of him and Lily so that there was no conversation possible between us. Lily had started to ask me about Eunice. 'Really, Gentle Heart,' she said, 'what in the world did you do to my poor little sister to make her skulk away like a thief in the night?'
'Ask your sister,' I said. 'If ever you see her again.' 'Oh, this foehn,' Lily said. 'It makes everybody so grumpy.' She, too, with the south wind.
Sloane came into the club while we were eating lunch. He came over to our table promptly, his ski boots making even more noise than ski boots usually make. His face was florid and triumphant and he looked as though he had been drinking. I could hear his heavy breathing two yards away. I put down my knife and fork. Any desire to eat had suddenly left me.
Hello, folks,' Sloane said. 'Isn't this a great day?' 'Great,' Fabian said, sipping at his wine. 'Aren't you going to invite me to sit down with you for lunch?' Sloane said. 'No,' said Fabian.
Sloane grinned, his eyes eternally, congenitally hostile. 'That's what I like,' he said, 'a bad loser.' He dug into his pocket and dug out a piece of the hotel stationery, with a few lines written on it. 'Fabian,' he said, 'you're not going to forget this, are you?'
'Don't be rude,' Fabian said coldly. 'There's a lady present.' 'Good day, ma'am,' Sloane said, as though he was noticing Lily for the first time. 'I believe we met. Last year at St Moritz.'
'I remember you well. sir,' Lily said, abruptly eighteenth century. Sloane folded the sheet of paper carefully and put it back into his pocket. Then he turned his attention to me. He tapped me heavily on the shoulder. 'What the hell are you doing here, Grimes? I thought you broke your goddamn leg.'
'It was a mistaken diagnosis,' I said.
'Break into any more hotel rooms lately. Smart Boy?'
I looked around uneasily. Sloane's voice was loud and clear, but nobody seemed to be listening. 'Only last night,' I said.
'Pull of jokes, this boy,' Sloane said. 'He's a shoe fetishist.' He laughed hoarsely, his eyes venomous and bloodshot in their wrinkled pouches. He was the sort of man who could destroy relations between friendly nations in the space of a half-hour. The thought of our having to hand over thirty thousand dollars to this American peasant at four o'clock that afternoon made me ache.
'How's the watch trade, boy?' he boomed. 'Just as thriving as on the other side of Switzerland?'
'Fuck off, Sloane,' I said. As I spoke, I felt new blood coursing happily through my veins and my appetite returning.
He laughed, uninsultable, at least for today. 'Be careful of this feller,' he said to Fabian. 'He's quirky.' He laughed hollowly. 'Well,' he said, 'if I'm not invited to the party, I might as well ski. I stayed up late last night and I have to blow the cobwebs out. See you at four o'clock at the hotel, Fabian.' His tone was no longer joking.
He clumped out of the room. Fabian sighed. The people you have to do business with,' he said.
'Americans,' Lily said. Then she put her hand on my arm 'Forgive me, Gentle Heart. I didn't mean you.'
'Americans are like anyone else,' Fabian said. ^Some don't export well. I've seen some English in my time...'
'As have I,' Lily said.
'I forgive everybody,' I said. 'Don't you think we ought to have another bottle of wine?' My nerves needed some soothing. and, if I was going to ski after lunch, a good dose of alcohol might prevent me from breaking something. Also, sitting at the table with Fabian and Lily, calmly and composedly working at their food, I felt myself on the verge of aunching into a bitter harangue against them both, blurting out the confession of the meeting in Florence, the details of what Eunice had told me in her cold room the night before. The temptation to tell Fabian that I was through with him once and for all was strong and would have given me immense immediate satisfaction, but our affairs were so hopelessly intertwined that to disentangle them would probably take years, if it ever possibly could be done. The gesture would only make it more difficult. So I concentrated on my food and on the new bottle of wine when it came and hardly listened as Fabian and Lily chatted away.
'Mr Fabian, Mr Fabian...' It was a young ski instructor hurrying into the restaurant, his voice strained and high. Ordinarily the ski instructors did not eat in the same room with the guests, and the people at the other tables looked up in non-democratic disapproval from their meals as the ski instructor ran down the aisle.
'Yes?' Fabian motioned for the boy to keep his voice down. 'What is it?'
'Your friend,' the instructor said. 'Mr. Sloane. You'd better come. He was just bending down to put on his skis...'
'Not so loud, please, Hans,' Fabian said. He knew everybody's name. It was one of the things about him that made him so popular with waiters and concierges. 'What is it?'