They were inside well over an hour. When he came out, Fischer didn’t look too bad at first sight. The cut on his face had a lint dressing neatly taped over it, and his left arm was resting in a small sling of the kind that suggests comfort for a minor sprain rather than a serious injury. But when he got closer I could see that both his hands and forearms were quite extensively bandaged, and that the left hand was cupped round a thick pad taped so as to immobilize the fingers. I got out and opened the door for him. He smelled of disinfectant and surgical spirit.
He and Harper got in without a word, and remained silent on the way back to the villa.
Miller and Miss Lipp were waiting on the terrace. As I pulled up into the courtyard, they came down the steps. I opened the door for Fischer. He got out and walked past them into the house. Still, nothing was said. Hamul was already making for his own quarters at the back. Miller and Miss Lipp came up to Harper.
“How is he?” Miller asked. There was nothing solicitous about the question. It was a grim request for information.
“The left hand has seven stitches on one cut, four on another, more stitches on the arm. The right forearm has seven stitches. The other cuts weren’t so deep. The doctor was able to tape those up. He gave him some shots and a sedative.” His eyes went to Miss Lipp. “Where’s the cook?”
“Gone,” she said. “When he woke up, he asked if he could go to his room. We let him. He just packed his things and went off on that scooter of his. We didn’t try to stop him.”
He nodded.
“But about Fischer…” Miller began, his teeth showing as if he wanted to eat someone.
Harper broke in firmly. “Let’s go inside, Leo.” He turned to me. “You can put the car away for now, Arthur, but I may want it again later to drive to Pendik, so you stick around. Make yourself some coffee in the kitchen, then I’ll know where to find you.”
“Very good, sir.”
When I got to the kitchen I found that someone, Mrs. Hamul no doubt, had washed the dishes and cleaned the place up. The charcoal fires on the range were not quite dead, but I made no attempt to revive one. I found a bottle of red wine and opened that.
I was getting anxious. It was nearly ten-thirty and the radio call was due at eleven; but I didn’t so much mind missing another Essential you report progress; it was the undelivered report on the car doors that bothered me. Obviously, Fischer’s getting hurt had thrown some sort of wrench into the works and changes of plan were being made. If those changes meant that I was going to be up all night driving Harper to Pendik and back, I would have to deliver the message via a cigarette packet after all. I went into the scullery, in case Harper should suddenly come into the kitchen, and wrote the message- Car doors now empty, check gorage near Spanish Consulate- on a piece of paper torn off a shelf lining. I felt better when I had done that. My other assignment for the night, the search for the mysterious map, didn’t worry me at all. In fact, though it may seem funny now, at that point in the proceedings I had completely forgotten about it.
It was after eleven-thirty and I had finished the last of the wine, when there was the sound of a door opening and Harper came through from the dining room. I got to my feet.
“Sorry to keep you up this late, Arthur,” he said; “but Mr. Miller and I are having a friendly argument, and we want you to help us decide who’s right. Come in.”
I followed him through the dining room, and along a passage to the room in which I had seen them the previous night.
It was L-shaped and even bigger than I had thought. When I had looked through the windows, all I had seen had been the short arm of the L. The long arm went all the way to the main entrance hall. There was a low platform with a concert-size grand piano on it. The room looked as if it had been used at some time for “musical soirees.”
Miss Lipp and Miller were sitting at the library desk. Fischer was in the background, sitting in an armchair with his head thrown back so that he stared at the ceiling. I thought for a moment that he had passed out, but as I came in he slowly raised his head and stared at me. He looked terrible.
“Sit down, Arthur.” Harper motioned me to a chair facing Miller.
I sat down. Miss Lipp was watching Miller. Miller was watching me through his rimless glasses. The toothy smile was there as ever, but it was the most unamused smile I have ever seen; it was more like a grimace.
Harper leaned against the back of the settee.
“It’s really two problems, Arthur,” he said. “Tell me this. How long does it take to get to Pendik at this time of night? The same as during the day?”
“Less, perhaps; but it would depend on the ferry to Uskudar.”
“How often does that run at night?”
“Every hour, sir.”
“So if we missed one it could take us well over two hours?”
“Yes.”
He looked at Miller. “Two hours to Pendik, two hours to persuade Giulio, two more hours to persuade Enrico…”
“If he would be persuaded,” Miss Lipp put in.
Harper nodded. “Of course. And then two hours back. Not a very restful night, Leo.”
“Then postpone,” Miller snapped.
Harper shook his head. “The overheads, Leo. If we postpone, it means abandon. What will our friends say to that?”
“It is not their necks.” Miller looked resentfully at Fischer. “If you had not…” he began, but Harper cut him off sharply.
“We’ve been over all that, Leo. Now, why don’t you at least give it a whirl?”
Miller shrugged.
Harper looked at me. “We want to make an experiment, Arthur. Do you mind going over there and standing against the wall with your back against it?”
“Over here?”
“That’s right. Your back touching the wall.” He went over to Fischer, picked up a length of thick cord which was lying across the bandaged hands, and threw one end of it to me. I saw that the other end was attached to a leg of the settee. “Now here’s what it is, Arthur,” he went on; “I’ve told Mr. Miller that you can pull that settee six feet towards you just with the strength of your arms. Of course, your back’s leaning against the wall, so you can’t use your weight to help you. It has to be just your arms. Mr. Miller says you can’t do it, and he’s got a hundred-dollar bill that says he’s right. I’ve got one that says he’s wrong. If he wins, I pay. If I win, you and I split fifty-fifty. How about it?”
“I’ll try,” I said.
“Very well, begin,” said Miller. “Your shoulders against the wall, your heels not more than ten centimeters from it and together.” He moved over so that he could see that I didn’t cheat.
I have always detested that kind of parlor trick; in fact, I dislike any sort of trial of physical strength. They always remind me of a lot of boys I once saw in the school lavatories. They were standing in a row seeing who could urinate the farthest. Suddenly they started laughing and then began to aim at each other. I happened to get in the way and it was very unpleasant. In my opinion, rugger is the same kind of thing-just childish, smelly, homosexual horseplay. I always got out of it whenever I could. Today, any sort of exercise brings on my indigestion immediately.
Frankly, then, I didn’t think that there was the slightest chance of my being able to pull that heavy settee one foot, much less six. I am not particularly strong in the arms anyway. Why should I be? I have enough strength to lift a suitcase and drive a car; what more do I want?
“Go on,” said Miller. “Pull with all your strength!”
I should have done as he said and fallen flat on my face. Then, Harper would have lost a hundred dollars, and I should have been spared the ordeal. But Miss Lipp had to interfere.
“Just a minute, Arthur,” she said; “I tried this and I couldn’t do it. But you’re a man with a good pair of shoulders on you, and I think you can do it.”