Leaning against the low wall, he watched the undulations of the rain-swollen river. His thoughts were of a warmer land and another river, the Nile, as he attached his hopes to things he’d only just heard of.
Some streets away, in the sombre interview office, Felix met Novak.
“Two weeks have passed, and we have got nowhere,” Felix said.
“There’s more to this than meets the eye. Beaufort appears to be a man of mystery. If he’s bolted to Egypt, this may be more difficult to deal with.”
“Do you mean he can get away with murder?” asked Felix with a scowl.
“Yes. The borders are porous. I didn’t say it was hopeless, but first we’ve got to find him.”
“God damn it, I’ll do it for you. I’ll find him myself,” replied Felix tersely.
The inspector huffed dismissively. “I don’t like your chances when the British can’t find him in their backyard. Consider your actions thoroughly before you make your next move.”
“Are you implying he’s innocent?”
“Not at all, but don’t mistake main suspect for guilty. In Egypt you will be on your own. The place is full of fanatics and the fact is Allenby, the High Commissioner, has enough trouble protecting the colonial secretary and keeping order. You must be careful – and realise that this is a trifling matter to them, unless it threatens their security and national interest.”
Felix tossed his thoughts in his head as he walked to his next rendezvous in the riverside park. The sound of his footsteps was drowned by the screech of metal wheels against rails as trams crossed the bridge spanning the Vltava and then turned alongside the river.
“I’ve got the keys.” Felix dangled them as he spoke.
“Thank God,” Etienne breathed. “I’ve been waiting since the funeral with faith and trust. I want to see this map.”
“Then you’re standing at the perfect spot. A king once threw the best exponent of trust into this river, right here.”
“You mean John of Nepomuk, the priest?”
“Yes I do. He sacrificed his life so as not to betray the queen’s faith. Neither will we betray Victor’s trust in us. So let’s get on with it.” Even before the words died in his ears, Felix commenced to cross the street as Etienne followed.
“If that map is still there, our road’s a long one!”
Felix threw a sharp look at Etienne over his shoulder. He, too, knew if the map was gone they were in limbo; he believed it held the key to everything. They took the shortest route, past the old Jewish cemetery, then along the narrow medieval streets. On entering the building, Felix stopped as he set foot on the first step. He was surprised to be greeted by name and turned to look at a frail old man, the janitor. “You’re so familiar with me, yet we’ve never met.”
“Of course I know you; your uncle spoke of you, both of you, in his impatient wait for your arrival. Never did I expect to have such a tragedy on my doorstep – such a cold-blooded crime is uncommon here.” His shoulders sank, making him look even smaller than he was. “I’m so sorry, and I envied him. I’m not ashamed to say it; I admired him and his life in the Orient.”
“We understand,” Etienne tried to console the old man.
“No, you don’t,” he retorted as if he was being patronized. “You don’t understand how brazen he was, how calculating. He took advantage of me.”
Puzzled at first, Felix and Etienne realised he was talking about the assailant. “Tell us what you saw.”
“He aroused my suspicion with his endless pacing and watching from the street. I wondered what he was doing. The last thing I thought was that he might be a burglar. He appeared well presented, slim and neat. He had the bearing of a professional man. His clothes were fashionable; his suit was of an English cut, if I’m permitted a guess. On most occasions he wore a mackintosh and a trilby hat. I’m sure he was a foreigner.
“He slipped into the building when I left for a few hours that evening, and Victor surprised him when he returned earlier than usual. I told them what I saw; it puzzles me that the police haven’t found him. I’m sure it was him. He would stand on the corner of the street, or walk up and down looking at the shop windows for an hour or more, every day for a week, even longer. One day I almost walked into him at the tobacconist round the corner. On seeing me, he pinched the brim of his hat to lower it as he turned away and quickly walked off; he was back again the next day.”
Felix interrupted him: “Did you see any other visitors?”
“Oh yes. The day before, two Germans came in. They asked where Victor’s apartment was; after some time he left with them and returned alone. ‘At last I’m getting somewhere,’ he said to me when he came in, as if I was supposed to know what it was all about. You never know what’s in people’s minds, do you? And the more I think of it, I wouldn’t trust his last two visitors either.”
Felix and Etienne moved up the stairs, thanking the old man. He answered without looking up: “Everything depends on you boys; he believed in you.”
Inside the apartment, in front of the wall of books he had never heard of, Felix felt despondent even though their wait was at an end. “At this moment we have one secret. When we open it we may have a new one. What if the safe is empty?”
“Then we would know who has it, and we would have another responsibility – to get it back.”
Felix removed the crystal vase and tried to slide the wooden panel behind it. It wouldn’t move.
“I don’t want to break it.”
“No, don’t do that. There must be a release mechanism somewhere.”
Felix cranked his memory back to when he saw Victor slide it aside. He couldn’t recall him doing anything to release it. It also occurred to him that he didn’t know where to find the key to the safe. Frustrating hours passed as they continued their luckless search. While Etienne studied the collection of books, Felix searched for possible hiding places they may have overlooked.
“Why don’t we have a break? Perhaps a coffee on Paris Street; you won’t believe what a difference it could make,” suggested Etienne.
As they prepared to leave, Etienne stood back and surveyed the wall of books and shelves. “There’s a key to many a puzzle in those books. Maybe even the key to this strange affair.” He looked at Felix as he took several paces toward the door. “When you smile like that, I know you’re up to something.”
“You just gave me the clue. Coffee can wait.” Felix threw his coat over a chair and hurried back to the books. Reaching up, he removed a weighty book and brought it down on the desk with a thud. He inspected it closely. Then he did the same with a second tome. His heartbeat quickened as his fingers touched the key hidden inside the book’s spine. “The moment you said it, I remembered he removed a book from those four volumes. He then reached for another, but didn’t remove it, as if he changed his mind. I think it may have been a deliberate act in opening the concealed compartment.”
Etienne manoeuvred a chair so he could remove the books and inspect the higher compartments. Barefoot,
