the old fireplace, a modern furnace was installed, and quite suitable for the visual impression I had just left, lusty flames were flickering upwards behind the glass. Accordingly, it was very hot in the room.
Mr. Smith had earned too much this year, a grave crime in the Danish tax system. Accordingly, there was a lot of money to be paid back in the coming spring, and there would have been more so if we would declare all of the income.
“It is time to think of a new case,” he said, after having tried to block all such laborious tasks for months, not always successful. “Of course, one with a bill next year. Something trivial which does not disturb my Christmas mood. No blood, a reasonable bill and, if possible, with a happy end.”
“I’m afraid we are in the wrong business to fulfil such demands,” I argued. In that moment, the telephone rang.
“Office of Mr. Smith, Eric Gusto speaking …”
The big man suddenly interrupted – I never saw him so eager getting back to work. He took over the telephone. I could have listened to their conversation through another device but decided to play alone and undisturbed.
“Smith speaking. What is it about? … yes I see. How about telling us tomorrow at the same time? … Of course, it is always urgent. Now, we have a free term at four p.m. today, can you manage to come to Hellerup in 50 minutes? … So you have the address, then we shall see you soon.” He hung up, unable to end the conversation in a proper way.
“So what can we expect?” I asked curiously. I did not expect an honest reply and also did not get any.
“Santa Claus has lost one of his reindeers so short time before his seasonal duty. His wife wants us to find it in time, so it must be very urgent. Details given soon, as you just heard.”
Coming to Hellerup at four p.m. on a Thursday, shortly before Christmas, may take some time but apparently our new client called from nearby, because only 15 min. later the doorbell rang. Fortunately, I had just told Juanita that we expected a visitor at four o’clock, so she was prepared and showed the lady into the music room. Mr. Smith did not like people who came so early; neither did he like people who came too late. I never found out if he liked people who were precise, what he liked was perhaps only their money. Juanita tried to compensate his rudeness in offering our guest – after all, she was still not our client – coffee and cookies, and while it was so close to Christmas, I went out to her to gather her name et cetera ten minutes to four.
She soon realized that if she wanted to see Santa Claus, she had come to the wrong address; similarly, her story soon revealed that she was certainly not married to a man of the stuff, real St. Claus are made from – I mean, below the peculiar red-and-white cap – as Mr. Smith had ironically presented me the case. But first to her shock.
At precisely four p.m., we entered the inner temple. Juanita was cleaning up after our coffee, so there was at least one other human present – I still do not know, whether I shall count my chief as such. He is extremely fat, thereto very tall if he would ever stand up. However, his legs are paralyzed and an electrical wheelchair takes care of all transport. His blue eyes are almost covered by dense, long hairs of the eyebrows, somewhat darker than his vertically standing, slightly curled hair, which was partially dark blond, infiltrated by grey hair – a detail not to be well studied in the rather dark room, where the fire in the furnace offered both light and cosy warm surroundings. Except for that, there were no traces of the Christmas season – no stars, no candlelight. Mr. Smith had also that in common with Dickens’ Uncle Scrooge that he paid no emphasis on Christmas, yes, indeed disgusted the event but at least permitted me, his assistant to take some days off. While Juanita paid no respect to Mr. Smith’s feeling in that direction, she would fly to her family in Spain already next week, eight days before the celebration, as soon as her replacement had arrived – this time from Poland – and was worked in as Mr. Smith’s personal housekeeper and nurse.
“I guess I should pay Juanita less, so that she cannot afford to fly so much around,” the old brute had murmured.
“If you do, she may not have enough for the return ticket,” I lied, disregarding that flight tickets had now become ridiculously cheap. After all, we Smith-employees must stick together. Imagine if he would consider cutting my salary? But back to our visitor.
“My name is Jeannine Dumont, as I told you in the phone,” she said. She was a tall and slim woman in her mid-thirties with dark hair styled as Queen Cleopatra and probably as beautiful in overall appearance. I do not know whether it was related to the coming seasonal event, but she was dressed in a red short gown and similar jacket with a red sweater and then black stockings and shoes. Not just beautiful but really elegant, with the red and white colours making it even appropriate for the season. “My problem is perhaps not really serious but certainly delicate.”
“Most problems revealed within these four walls really are. Be assured that if we are not dealing with a preventable crime, nothing of what you say will come any further, regardless of, whether we take the case or not. Please present your problem.”
“I am French and I have lived in New York for seven years with a wealthy man of otherwise no importance whatsoever, also not for the present problem. Fortunately, we have no children, and after our divorce this summer, I took my girl’s name back. Now I consider changing that again in marrying a British gentleman, Mr. George Osborne, with whom I am in Copenhagen right now for a congress, he says. What disturbs me is that the topic of this congress seems to be a big secret, and I wonder, what it is really about. If we are dealing with preventable crimes, do not hesitate to disclose it. I want to know if George is an honest civil servant of the British Ministry of the Interior, at least as he tells me, and I can’t understand what his position entitles him to participate in a secret meeting. If he lies to me, he can take whatever consequences, besides losing his dear would-be wife.”
“Mrs. Dumont,” Mr. Smith said, after considering whether the girl’s name also entitled her to a ‘Miss’ - he was very precise about such details. “Tell me that little you know about the conference.”
“We arrived today and it starts tomorrow on the hotel where we are living. It is not registered in the lobby and seems to involve only half a hundred of participants. George already talked with some, and the rest are expected to arrive today, so they can be ready for tomorrow’s meeting. We are flying back in four days, so there is two days for the so-called conference in-between. All the participants we greeted today so far are male and when George introduced me, they stalled back. One of them silently told George, that he was not expected to bring any female company, and hearing that remark made me very suspicious. So I called your brother in Ireland, whom I learned to know some years ago. He recommended that I consult you and here I am.”
“Yes, Soames called me today and prepared me of your arrival.” So that was why his brother had called? I thought it was a private matter and had not given this call the faintest attention. “I hope we may be able to give you a satisfactory answer tomorrow afternoon at the same time. Concerning the bill, I have a small problem …”
“I shall pay in cash and I do not need a receipt,” she interrupted. “Soames prepared me in this way. My first husband was very rich – before our divorce,” she added.
Immediately, I felt pity for this man, whatever his name. What gives a beautiful woman the right to plunder a rich man, and let us assume that he, in spite of his wealth is not even an unsympathetic one? But maybe this is my chance: I shall replace Mr. Osborne and, thanks to my great charm and handsome outfit, marry Mrs. Dumont and divorce her some years later and then all problems …
I was bluntly awoken by Mr. Smith’s words: “I shall send an assistant to gather a first impression already tonight and Mr. Gusto shall commence tomorrow. Given all the secrecy, to which this meeting appears to be swept in, it is better to use different persons. Then tomorrow at 4 p.m. I hope to be able to give you an answer, and it shall not ruin you. Eric, you do not need to ascertain advance payment an
d signature, I am satisfied with my brother’s recommendation and anyhow, there are no high risks at stake here.”
Later, when I wanted to tease him, I reminded him of these words.
2 – Lunch at Shepherd’s
Shepherd’s Hotel in Copenhagen is known by many but visited only by few of us natives due to its exorbitant price level. Most of its guests are invited and only few actually pay for themselves – on this weekend, probably none at all. I must admit that I had never been there but now, with a wealthy client, and with Alice having a free day in compensation of the extra hours to be served in the Christmas rush in the shop where she was working, I decided that this was the occasion. But first to the rest of day one.
Fred arrived close to ten p.m. He was not proud of, what he could tell. “Indeed, there is something strange going on there. Nothing official, but the place is heavily guarded by both policemen and some foreign civil agents. I have no idea how many members there are, only that they are kind of officials. The hotel has room for nearly 1000 guests, but it seems to have been cleared of any normal visitors, leaving most of it empty so that the important conference participants can be among themselves.”
“American, English?” Mr. Smith wanted to know.
“Both – and many other nations are represented on a high level. The most important recognition is, that I have almost not been able to make any at all.”
“Given your extraordinary skill, that is also something, from which we can deduct: A. there is something exceptional going on; B. it is kept extremely secret and C. it enjoys governmental protection,” Mr Smith concluded.
“So if you believe governments are always serving their sovereigns’ desire, it cannot be dishonest,” I added.
“But knowing government’s tendencies and demands for secrecy, we must assume the opposite. So, which are your plans for tomorrow, Eric?”
“Improvisation. I cannot say without being there. Fred tried probably being discrete so I shall try the opposite. I suggest going there for lunch with my girlfriend, arriving in your immodest car. If the eating is just half as good as the price indicates, I may get an idea while being there. I asked Alice if she would come along and she is available – of course, provided your approval.”
“Granted, in expectance of a result which we can show our client.”
“I shall do my very best, but I can’t promise anything.”
The fat man overheard my reservations. “I am only interested in the results, not the excuses.”
On Friday I came in an elegant suit, covered by a long blue trench-coat to work. I took the bus the two kilometres straight Northwards from my home to the site where the road to Mr. Smith’s house goes off from the road Strandvejen, Eastwards down to the sea. Only these last few hundred metres I walked.
I checked the mail, which was rather uninteresting that day, and made sure that no new wars had occurred in the World. Then I called Shepherd’s Hotel. I asked for the Wedding Suite – Mrs. Dumont had mentioned that their room was at the same floor, the 25th of 26.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Gusto, the hotel is completely booked out due to an international congress. Are you marrying this week-end?”
I had better not ask him which kind of congress could empty a hotel of nearly 1,000 beds. Of course, he was welcome to tell me, but my primary option was to get in there, and that would not be facilitated by making him suspicious. “No, unfortunately, I just want to give her a taste of, what it is to be married to me, and while her girlfriend, Mrs. Dumont, is living with George in room 2541, I thought that a