Michael Pearce - A Dead Man In Trieste

‘Your friend,’ said Lorenzo sorrowfully.

‘Our friend,’ said Luigi. ‘How can such things happen?’

They invited him to join them but, slightly mindful of Barton’s words, Seymour politely declined. They did not press him, thinking that he might wish to be alone this evening. He found a table by himself further on down towards the sea front.

Later on, however, he looked up to see Maddalena standing beside him.

‘I am sorry,’ she said.

He half rose and offered the chair opposite him. She hesitated for a moment and then sat down.

‘I will not stay,’ she said. ‘You wish to be alone. I know.’

‘There’s a lot to think about,’ said Seymour.

‘Yes. He was your friend. I understand.’

Seymour nodded, feeling rather fraudulent, however.

‘You will wish to find out who did it,’ said Maddalena suddenly.

‘Well. .’ said Seymour, startled.

Maddalena put her hand on his arm.

‘I understand. We are like that, too.’

‘Like. .?’

‘Had he no family?’

‘Not much of one. Just an aunt. And an uncle. They had looked after him, I think, when he was a child.’

Maddalena nodded.

‘They would be old, then, and not able to take it on themselves.’

‘Take it on themselves?’

‘The obligation. I understand. And so you, as a friend, must take it on.’

‘Take it on?’

‘It is a question of honour. You need say no more. I understand.’

‘Just a minute — ’

Maddalena got up from the table.

‘I will leave you,’ she said. ‘You wish to be alone. I just wanted you to know that Lomax was my friend too. Perhaps more than a friend. And I wish to stand beside you. It is my obligation, too. We will work together.’

‘Yes, well, thank you, but — ’

But Maddalena had already gone.

Later, on his way back to the hotel, he passed the artists again, and again they invited him to join them. Feeling that it would be churlish to refuse, he sat down.

‘Just a coffee, though,’ he stipulated.

‘You are welcome,’ said Alfredo.

‘Doubly welcome,’ said Lorenzo.

‘James has been arrested,’ said Luigi.

‘And we want you to get him out,’ said Maddalena.

‘Well, look, I don’t know that I — ’

‘Lomax would have done. He was always going down to the police station. Not just for James but for any of us.’

‘It is, actually, easier in the case of James than it would be for us,’ said Alfredo, ‘because James is a British national.’

‘Look, I am just a Messenger.’

‘A King’s Messenger,’ said Maddalena with emphasis.

‘That doesn’t mean a thing. It’s a very lowly position, really.’

‘Ah, but they won’t know that.’

‘I have no official standing.’

‘Well, I think it’s very unkind of you,’ said Maddalena. ‘James is your friend, isn’t he?’

‘No! I’ve never met him.’

‘But he’s our friend. Isn’t that the same thing?’

‘Well, of course, it does make a difference, but — look, what’s he supposed to have done?’

‘Drunk and disorderly, I expect,’ said Alfredo.

‘There!’ said Maddalena. ‘It’s unjust! Everyone’s drunk in Trieste.’

‘But not always disorderly, Maddalena,’ said Lorenzo judiciously. ‘They don’t always fight.’

‘Well, James doesn’t always fight. Not always.’

‘Not when he’s completely unconscious, no.’

‘It’s usually only when they want to throw him out because he hasn’t paid.’

‘There you are,’ said Maddalena. ‘Easy! Lomax would have settled it in no time.’

‘Why don’t you go down?’ said Seymour.

‘They won’t take any notice of us.’

‘They won’t take any notice of me.’

‘Yes, they will. You’re an official. They take notice of officials.’

‘They only take notice of officials,’ said Lorenzo.

‘Especially foreign officials,’ said Luigi persuasively.

‘Look, I’m not an official. I’m just a. .’

In the end Seymour said that he was going to see Kornbluth the next day and that he might, he just might, mention it in passing.

Kornbluth was pleased.

‘I think we’re getting somewhere,’ he said. ‘The ticket! It was as I supposed. It’s one of the Edison’s. And one of the new ones. Not only that!’

He paused triumphantly.

‘Something else!’

‘Something even better. One of our experts worked on it with the Edison staff and was able to establish that it was a ticket for. .’ He paused again. ‘. . the performance on the night that he disappeared!’

‘That’s fantastic!’

‘Pretty good, yes? I don’t always hold with experts. They’re sometimes a pain in the ass, they think they know it all, but I will say this, Ludwigsen really knows his onions. He’s pretty confident about it. It was for the ten o’clock performance. Lomax must have gone there straight from the Piazza Grande. It is the lead we were looking for. And already we have found out something else.’

‘You have?’

‘We have.’ Kornbluth paused impressively. ‘He did not go alone.’

‘Ah!’

‘He was seen with someone. A man. Apparently they often go together. That’s how they were spotted. They go so often that the usher has got to know them. He’s positive that they were there that night.’

‘Well, that is helpful.’

‘We’ve got the man,’ said Kornbluth.

‘Already?’

‘We sometimes move quite quickly,’ said Kornbluth with pride.

‘Clearly! And have you questioned him yet?’

‘He admits he was there. That night. And with Lomax.’

‘Well, that’s tremendous. Congratulations!’

‘Thank you.’

Kornbluth bowed acknowledgement.

‘He says it was a standing arrangement. They would usually go to a cinema, one or other of them, every week.

That night it was the Edison. There was a picture that they particularly wanted to see,’

‘What about afterwards? After they left the cinema?’

‘He says that he went home. His wife confirms that. Of course, she would. But the concierge does, too. That, too, means little. And then, of course, there is the question of whether it was straight home. Well, we are looking into that.’

‘And Lomax?’

‘He says he doesn’t know. He assumes he went home. When he left, he was standing there as if he was about to. But that, too, we can check.’

He clapped Seymour on the back.

‘Things to do, yes? But at least we’re starting to get somewhere.’

‘It’s excellent!’

‘We are not always so bad,’ said Kornbluth modestly.

‘What about the other man?’ asked Seymour. ‘Do you know anything about him?’

‘Oh, yes. We are old friends. We have had an eye on him for some time. He is a professore in the languages school here. He teaches English.’

‘English?’

‘He is English. That is, perhaps, how your Mr Lomax came to know him.’ Kornbluth frowned. ‘But he is not a good man for a consul to know. He is disreputable.’

Another one! Seymour’s heart sank.

‘Always he is in trouble. Drinking. Fighting.’

‘Fighting?’ said Seymour.

‘Always.’

‘His name is not James, by any chance?’

‘James? No, I do not think so. It is Juice. Ah, no, I have it. It is James. A Mr James Juice.’

Somewhat to his surprise, Seymour found himself after all walking out of the police station with him. There were no grounds on which to hold him and Kornbluth had for the moment finished his questioning. He was a tall, lanky, dishevelled Irishman who looked around at everything and everyone, including Seymour, with bloodshot, suspicious eyes.