Part 14 (1/2)
”We have to call a doctor at once,” I said. ”Also, get a nurse.”
I put my hand on the phone. He jumped up instantly and put his hand on mine.
”Why should you do it?” he said. ”Better let me call a doctor. You are new here and I know an excellent doctor.”
”Well, what kind of a doctor is he?” I objected, studying the cut on his knuckles -- which was also quite new.
”An exemplary doctor. Just happens to be a specialist on the DT's.”
Rimeyer said suddenly, ”So I commanded... also spracht Rimeyer... alone with the world...”
We turned to look at him. He spoke haughtily, but his eyes were closed, and his face, draped in loose, gray skin, seemed pathetic. That swine Oscar, I thought, where does he get the gall to linger here? A sudden wild thought flashed through my head -- it seemed at that moment exceedingly well conceived: to disable Oscar with a blow to the solar plexus, tie him up, and force him then and there to expose everything he knew. He probably knew quite a lot. Possibly everything. He looked at me, and in his pale eyes was a blend of fear and hatred.
”All right,” I said. ”Let the hotel call the doctor.”
He removed his hand and I called service. While waiting for the doctor, I sat by Rimeyer, and Oscar walked from corner to corner, stepping over the liquor puddle. I followed him out of the corner of my eye. Suddenly he stooped and picked up something off the floor. Something small and multicolored.
”What have you got there?” I inquired indifferently.
He hesitated a bit and then threw a small flat box with a polychrome sticker on my knees.
”Ah!” I said, and looked at Oscar. ”Devon.”
”Devon,” he responded. ”Strange that it's here rather than in the bathroom.”
The devil, I thought. Maybe I was still too green to challenge him openly. I still knew but very little of this whole mess.
”Nothing strange about that,” I said at random. ”I believe you distribute that repellent. It's probably a sample which fell out of your pocket.”
”Out of my pocket?” He was astonished. ”Oh, you think that I... But I finished my a.s.signments a long time ago, and now I'm just taking it easy. But if you're interested, I can be of some help.”
That s very interesting, I said. ”I will consult --”
Unfortunately, the door flew open at this point, and a doctor accompanied by two nurses entered the room.
The doctor turned out to be a decisive individual. He gestured me off the couch and flung the drape off Rimeyer. He was completely naked.
”Well, of course,” said the doctor. ”Again...”
He raised Rimeyer's eyelid, pulled down his lower lip, and felt his pulse. ”Nurse - cordeine! And call some chambermaids and have them clean out these stables till they s.h.i.+ne.” He stood up and looked at me. ”A relative?”
”Yes,” I said, while Oscar kept still.
”You found him unconscious?”
”He was delirious,” said Oscar.
”You carried him out here?”
Oscar hesitated.
”I only covered him with the drape,” he said. ”When I arrived, he was lying as he is now. I was afraid he would catch cold.”
The doctor regarded him for a while, and then said, ”In any case, it is immaterial. Both of you can go. A nurse will stay with him. You can call this evening. Goodbye.”
”What is the matter with him, Doctor?” I asked.
”Nothing special. Overtired, nervous exhaustion... besides which he apparently smokes too much. Tomorrow he can be moved, and you can take him home with you. It would be unhealthy for him to stay here with us. There are too many amus.e.m.e.nts here.
Goodbye.”
We went out into the corridor.
”Let's go have a drink,” I said.
”You forgot that I don't drink,” corrected Oscar.
”Too bad. This whole episode has upset me. I'd like a snort. Rimeyer always was such a healthy specimen.”
”Well, lately he has slipped a lot,” said Oscar carefully.
”Yes, I hardly recognized him when I saw him yesterday.”
”Same here,” said Oscar. He didn't believe a word of it, and neither did I.
”Where are you staying?” I asked.
”Right here,” said Oscar. ”On the floor below, number 817.”.
”Too bad that you don't drink. We could go to your room and have a good talk.”
”Yes, that wouldn't be a bad idea. But, regretfully, I am in a great rush.” He was silent awhile. ”Let me have your address. Tomorrow morning, I'll be back and drop in to see you.
About ten -- will that suit you? Or you can ring me up.”
”Why not?” I said and gave him my address. ”To be honest with you, I am quite interested in Devon.”
”I think we'll be able to come to an understanding,” said Oscar. ”Till tomorrow!”
He ran down the stairs. Apparently he really was in a hurry. I went down in the elevator and sent off a telegram to Matia: ”Brother very ill, feeling very lonesome, but keeping up spirits, Ivan.” I truly did feel very much alone. Rimeyer was out of the game again, at least for a day. The only hint he had given me was the advice about the Fishers. I had nothing more definite. There were the Fishers, who were located somewhere in the old subway; there was Devon, which in same peripheral way could have something to do with my business, but also could just as well have no connection with it at all; there was Oscar, clearly connected with Devon and Rimeyer, a player sufficiently ominous and repulsive, but undoubtedly only one of many such unpleasant types on the local cloudless horizons; then again there was a certain ”Buba,” who supplied pore-nose with Devon.... After all, I have been here just twenty-four hours, I thought. There is time. Also, I could still count on Rimeyer in the final a.n.a.lysis, and there was the possibility of finding Peck. Suddenly I remembered the events of the night before and sent a wire to Sigmund: ”Amateur concert on the twenty-eighth, details unknown, Ivan.” Then I beckoned to a porter and inquired as to the shortest way to the old subway.
Chapter NINE.
”You would do better to come at night. It's too early now.”
”I prefer now.”