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“You mean, you want to break him in properly?”

Kek laughed. “No. Because I’m sure he’s being paid by the police to keep an eye on me.” He moved back of the bar, busying himself with their drinks.

Anita seated herself on a barstool with a swirl of skirt that momentarily displayed long and beautiful legs, set her purse on another, and then reached for the cigarette box. She took one and lit it with a tiny lighter, blowing smoke, and then proceeded to remove tobacco from her tongue with the tip of her fingernail. This normal ritual attended to, she looked at him archly.

“And if he is being paid by the police, what of it? And why the necessity of a mad love scene in front of him? What are they after you for? Celibacy?”

Kek laughed again and handed her her drink. They clicked glasses, smiled at each other in true affection, and then tasted their drinks. Kek nodded in appreciation of the heady body of the brandy, and shook his head.

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s simply that they’re expecting me to have a visit from a lovely lady today, and you’re that lady.”

“Wonderful! I like being your lovely lady. Only—” Anita took a sip of her drink and set it down “—it would be nice if you didn’t have to be pressured by the police into asking to kiss me.”

Kek grinned. “They only think they pressured me. Actually, they don’t even think that.”

“Whatever that means,” Anita said, and looked at him pensively as a further thought struck her. “And just why did the police expect you to have a visit from a lovely lady today?”

“Because I told the customs that I had brought her some chocolates from Switzerland, and naturally...”

Anita shook her head disconsolately. “You make less and less sense as you go on, but I suppose I should be used to it by now. And anyway, I’d forgive you almost anything for chocolates. What kind are they?”

“They aren’t, I’m afraid,” Kek said ruefully. “Or if they still are, by this time they’ve been so mauled, pinched, poked at, X-rayed, and generally examined with the fabled efficiency of the police laboratory, that I doubt if anyone would want to eat them.” He grinned and raised his eyes heavenward. “And may Allah give them sticky fingers for their nasty suspicions!”

“Amen,” Anita said devoutly, and set her glass down firmly. “And speaking of nasty suspicions, who were you bringing those chocolates back for? Which lovely lady? Because I’m sure it wasn’t me.”

Huuygens’s eyes twinkled. “Jealous?”

“Very.” Her violet eyes stared into his seriously.

“Well,” Kek said slowly, his big hand twisting his glass on the bar to form a series of damp circles, “in this case you needn’t be. Because while I didn’t realize it at the time, it seems I was actually bringing them back for a certain Inspector Dumas. Who, believe me, is certainly no lovely lady.”

“And why were you bringing them back for this Inspector Dumas?”

“Because he searched me so nicely,” Kek explained gravely. “Today he was even more careful than usual. Not one single tickle.”

“Kek Huuygens, you are impossible!” Anita shook her head in exasperation and then immediately brought a hand up to check her coiffure. She saw the expression in Kek’s eyes her gesture had triggered, and suddenly grinned. It was a gamin grin that made her look even younger than her twenty-five years. “Well, at least highly improbable. Are you going to tell me what this is all about, or aren’t you?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” Kek said with exaggerated patience. “You simply refuse to understand. I returned from Switzerland today, as you know, and the customs searched me, became suspicious of my chocolates — which I had brought as a gift for a lovely lady — and took them away.”

“And I’m the lovely lady you brought them for.”

“Right.”

“I see.” Anita nodded. “And you therefore immediately called me up and asked me to come over and kiss you publicly for the benefit of the elevator operator, just so I could be told that my chocolates were taken in customs. Is that it?”

“To a large extent—”

“But not entirely.” Anita crushed out her cigarette, finished her drink, and set down her glass, eyeing him carefully. “What else did you want this lovely lady to do? Because I’m sure it’s more than that.”

“It is.” Kek finished his drink and set it aside with an air of finality. “I want you to make a delivery for me.”

“A delivery? From your trip today?” He nodded; she frowned at him uncertainly. “But you said they searched you.”

“Oh, they did that, all right.”

“And even took away your chocolates — or rather, my chocolates.”

“They did that, too.”

“Then I don’t understand—”

“What they didn’t take away,” Kek said quietly, “was the wrapper of the box. And that’s what I want you to deliver.”

“The wrapper?”

“That’s right. That’s what I wanted, and they were kind enough to allow me to bring it in. Actually,” Kek added, remembering, “the chief inspector practically forced it on me. Probably doesn’t like his office any more littered than it already is.”

He winked at her, walked over to his desk, and unlatched his briefcase. The soiled clothing went onto a chair; the foil-lined paper from the candy box was carefully extracted and gently smoothed on the desktop. Anita came down from her barstool and crossed the room, looking down.

“What is it?”

Kek smiled proudly. “That, my darling Anita, is the last known page of a particular Bach Cantata, original, in the hand of the master himself. And worth a great deal of money.” As always when he spoke of art objects, there was an undercurrent of excitement in his deep voice; Anita loved to listen to him at such moments. Kek reached for a pen. “I should like you to deliver it to this address...”

He carefully printed a name and street address on a small slip of paper, placed it with the wrapper, and cautiously rolled it into a tube, fastening it with a bit of gummed tape. “Tell this man that the foil and paper peel away quite easily with a slight amount of heat. Not too much, no more temperature than the bare hand can stand. He’ll know. Oh, and tell him the adhesives were very carefully selected. They’ll do the manuscript itself no harm.”

Anita raised her eyes from the small tube on the desk and shook her head in wonder. “You’re fantastic! What would have happened if the customs had kept the wrapping? Or simply thrown it into the wastebasket? I suppose then you’d have had to go out and rob a garbage truck.”

Kek grinned at her. “Not exactly rob one — I’ve become quite friendly lately with the driver who hauls away the trash. Not exactly by accident. A greater tragedy, of course, would have been my disappointment at having wasted one of my better performances.”

“Instead of which you save them for me.” She picked up the tube, placed it in her large purse, and then looked at him, her eyes wide and questioning. “I suppose your man wants his manuscript right away?” Kek nodded. “And will I see you later?”

He shook his head, smiling regretfully. “Not tonight. I have a lot of work to do. But possibly the theater tomorrow night? And then supper?”

“If you wish.” She moved to the door and then paused, turning to study him gravely. “Kek — why do I do these things for you?”

“I don’t know,” Kek said, and smiled. “But I’m glad you do.”

“You know very well why I do them,” Anita said quietly. “I do them because I’m in love with you.”

Kek’s smile disappeared; one hand came up to tug at his earlobe. His eyes were serious and slightly sad. “My dear Anita, I’m honestly sorry to hear you say that. We’ve had fun together, and I had hoped we could keep on having fun. I’m truly fond of you. But love?” He ran a hand through his thick hair and then shrugged. “Why would you want to love me? It certainly has no future.”