Could this possibly, I wondered, be Monsieur Dambreuse, the gallant lover who had kept two mistresses in the same hotel? If he was alive, then perhaps Curran was alive too. It was as though my aunts crooked world were destined to a kind of immortality only my poor father lay certainly dead in the smoke and rain of Boulogne. I admit that a pang of jealousy struck me because on this voyage I had not been my aunts companion. It was to others that she now recounted her stories.
Forgive us coming in without ringing, Mr. Pulling, said Detective-Sergeant Sparrow. He stood back to allow Inspector Woodrow to precede him according to protocol into the sitting-room. The inspector was carrying his umbrella, which looked as if it hadnt been opened since I had seen him last.
Good afternoon, Inspector Woodrow said stiffly. It is just as well we have found you here.
The door being open Sergeant Sparrow said.
I have a search warrant, Inspector Woodrow told me before I could ask him, and he held it out for my inspection. All the same we prefer a member of the family to be present at a search.
Not wishing to make a commotion, Sergeant Sparrow said, which would be disagreeable to all, we were waiting in our car across the street till the manager closed the bar, but then seeing you come in, we thought we could do things on the quiet[230] without even the manager knowing. Much nicer for your aunt because there would have been a lot of gossip in the bar tonight, you can be sure of that. You cant trust a barman not to talk to his locals. Its like husband and wife.
While he spoke the inspector was busy examining the room.
Looking at her mail, eh? the sergeant asked me. He took the card out of my hand and said, Panama. Signed A.D. Now you wouldnt have an idea who A.D. is?
No.
You see, it might be an alias. Interpol doesnt get much cooperation in Panama, the sergeant said, except in the American zone.
Keep the card, Sparrow, the inspector said, nonetheless.
What have you got against my aunt?
You know, sir, we err on the side of kindness, Sergeant Sparrow said. We could have charged her over that Cannabis affair, but seeing what an old lady she was and the coloured man taking off to Paris like that, we let her be. The case wouldnt have stood up well in court anyway. Of course we didnt know a thing then about this undesirable connection of hers.
What connection?
I wondered if they had arranged their two parts beforehand: the sergeant being told to keep me occupied while the inspector searched the flat, as he was now doing.
This man Visconti, sir. An Italian as you might surmise with a name like that. Hes a viper.
All this glass, the inspector said. Curious stuff. Its like a museum.
Venetian glass. My aunt worked once in Venice. I expect a lot were gifts from her clients.
Very valuable? Collectors pieces?
I wouldnt have thought so.
Works of art?
Its a matter of taste, I said.
Miss Bertram knew a lot about art, I daresay. Any pictures?
I dont think so. Only a photo of Freetown in the spare room.
Why Freetown?
Wordsworth came from there.
Whos Wordsworth?
The black valet, Sergeant Sparrow said. The one who took off to France when we found the pot.
They trailed from room to room and I followed them. I thought that Woodrow was less thorough in his search than Colonel Hakim. I had the impression that he expected nothing and was only anxious to make a formal report to Interpol that every effort had been made. Every now and then he tossed me a question without looking round. Has your aunt ever mentioned this fellow Visconti?
Oh yes, many times.
Is he alive, would you say?
I dont know.
Any idea if they are still in contact?
I wouldnt think so.
The old viper would be over eighty by now, Sergeant Sparrow said. Nearer ninety, Id guess.
It seems a bit late to be chasing him even if he is alive, I said. We had left my aunts room and entered Wordsworths.
Thats one of the troubles of Interpol, Sergeant Sparrow said. Too many files. Its not real police work they do. Not one of them has ever been on the beat.[231] Its a civil service. Like Somerset House[232].
They do their duty, Sparrow, Woodrow said. He took down the photo of Freetown harbour and turned it over. Then he hung it up again. Its a good-looking frame, he said. Cost more than the photograph.
Italian too from the look of it, I said, like the glass.
Perhaps given her by the man Visconti? Sergeant Sparrow asked.
Theres no indication on the back, the inspector said. I had hoped for an inscription. Interpol havent even a specimen of his signature leave alone fingerprints[233]. He consulted a piece of paper.
Have you ever heard your aunt mention any of these names Tiberio Titi?
No.
Stradano? Passerati? Cossa?
Shes never spoken to me very much about her Italian friends.
These werent friends, Inspector Woodrow said. Leonardo da Vinci?
No.
He began to go through the rooms all over again, but I could tell that it was only for forms sake. At the door he gave me a telephone number. If you hear from your aunt, he said, if you ever do, please ring us at once.