With no hesitation, Simon answered “10,000 or more,” circled “more,” and signed the name of Sebastian Tombs at the bottom of that final sheet.
Almost as if by magic — or more likely by virtue of a two-way mirror — Dr Edelhof knocked at the door and stepped smiling into the office.
“Finished?” He looked at his wrist watch. “Just as we calculated. You have plenty of time to meet your young lady friend before she becomes impatient.”
Simon stretched in the chair and then got up and went to the door. He nodded toward the completed tests, which Edelhof was returning to the filing cabinet.
“Let me know if I passed, will you?”
“It is not a question of passing or failing, of course, but we shall speak about this as soon as I have evaluated the answers — which will take longer than you took to write them. In the meantime, enjoy yourself.”
9
It was ten minutes until four. Simon hurried to his villa, changed into a bathing suit, and walked back down to the beach side of the clubhouse. Near the door of the equipment room Jenny was waiting, wearing a yellow bikini which left bare ample portions of her already pink-tinged anatomy.
“I hope dinner will be half as well cooked as you are,” Simon said cheerfully.
Jenny had been idly watching water skiers skimming the glassy sea behind one of the outboards mentioned by Maria Corsina in her speech at lunch, and she jumped with surprise at the sound of Simon’s voice.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she said concernedly, after a deep breath. “What happened?”
“Nothing much. I took the tests.”
“What were they? I thought I’d die when he said he was sure you’d taken them before.” Simon described the tests to her. “Sound familiar?” he asked. “Yes. Both of those. I had a lot of fun with them.”
“What do you mean, fun?”
“I never take that brain-picking stuff seriously. I just make up some personality and answer for it.”
“I wondered what a nice girl like you was doing in a place like this. You probably made up one that was just what Manders was looking for.”
“I don’t even remember.”
“What about that question on committing murder for different amounts of money?” She shook her head.
“I said I wouldn’t do it for anything. After all, I couldn’t be too obvious or Dr Manders would have known I was spoofing and asked me to take the silly thing over again. Doesn’t that disprove your theory about why they brought us here? I mean, I said no.”
“I imagine very few people said yes, but that doesn’t mean people like Manders and Edelhof couldn’t detect an almost unconscious willingness to cooperate under the right circumstances.”
“How creepy can you get?” Jenny kicked petulantly at the sand with her bare toes. “We could have such a lovely time here if we didn’t have to worry about all this nasty business.” He slapped her on the bottom.
“Very well, Jenny, my dear, let’s start with that lovely time right now.”
She flashed him a grateful smile and a minute later they were on their way down to the water, hand in hand, with snorkels, flippers, and masks.
“I can’t get over the way they leave stuff lying around here,” she said. “Even the boats. You just take them. No checking out. Nobody’s even watching.”
“Don’t bet on that last,” he said, “but I doubt if they’re watching to see you don’t make off with any of their sports gear. All that generosity gives you a taste of la dolce vita you’ll enjoy if you go over to that Other Side I was talking about in London. Makes you more amenable to reason when the recruiting officer comes round for his private chat. Right?”
They were at the water’s edge, putting on the flippers and masks. Jenny looked at him reproachfully.
“I thought we weren’t going to think about that nasty stuff.”
“That’s all. Besides, where could anybody go with these bulky things? There doesn’t seem to be another human habitation for miles around. Unless...”
“Unless what?”
Simon was looking out toward the islands.
“I noticed that cruiser heading out there,” he said.
“Oh! I meant to tell you. I saw it leaving, and guess who was on it?”
“Zsa Zsa Gabor?”
“Lady Dracula — Maria Concertina or whatever her name is. All by herself with a big purse and a couple of black boys to run the boat.”
“All sorts of possibilities there, wouldn’t you agree?” Simon said thoughtfully. “I even flatter myself that she may have been carrying a report about me, complete with photographs probably.”
“Carrying a report where?”
“To the big boss — Timonaides himself, maybe.” Simon nodded without pointing. “See that largest island there? As far as I could tell, that’s where the boat went — which may be an indication of something, but I promised not to discuss these problems any more.”
Without warning, he grabbed her hand and towed her into the water. For the next hour they glided like the fish they observed through a medium that seemed clearer than air. It was only when the sun was low on the western horizon that Simon’s attention was brought back to his real reason for coming to this part of the world. He and Jenny, following a school of parrot fish, were at least a hundred yards down the beach from the clubhouse when they heard the rumble of an engine in the water and looked up to see the white cruiser returning to the marina. As soon as its stern was made fast by the crewman, Maria Corsina jumped lightly onto the dock, greeted some watching guests, and hurried to the building.
“The return of the Bride of Dracula,” Jenny said. “I wonder what she was doing?”
“Gathering conchs for our chowder? Or maybe oysters for the stuffing when she tries to cook my goose.”
“Simon,” Jenny asked fearfully, “what if they have found out who you really are?”
He shrugged as he led the way back toward the beach, his mask and snorkel in hand.
“A man like Timonaides would have contacts in London who could easily find out I was around when Bast was murdered and Manders was arrested. With an organization like that involved, Sebastian Tombs couldn’t expect to last long.”
Jenny shuddered and looked at him imploringly.
“Let’s run away. Please. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”
He put a reassuring arm around her dripping shoulders as they trudged along the beach toward the clubhouse.
“I said Sebastian Tombs couldn’t expect to last long. Simon Templar expects to survive indefinitely.”
She nuzzled her face against his arm.
“He’d better,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it. If there’s one thing I’d guarantee to give any man the will to live, it’s you in a bikini.”
When they were about halfway back to the area of the villas, Maria Corsina came out of the clubhouse, looked up and down the beach, spotted them, and waved an arm above her head.
“I think she wants me,” Simon said.
“Well, she’s not going to get you,” Jenny responded, with flattering determination.
“Mr Tombs,” the hostess called.
“We’re on our way.”
They made their way up the sand and a few moments later joined her near the pool, from which a last trio of swimmers emerged and walked through the twilight toward the cottages.
“It’s about dinner tonight, Mr Tombs.”
Maria Corsina paused and looked at Jenny, with the obvious implication that Jenny should politely excuse herself and leave. Jenny just looked back without moving, so the other woman continued.