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Gently Continental

Page 4

by Alan Hunter


  GENTLY

  I want you to tell me, Mrs Breske, everything you remember about the deceased.

  MRS BRESKE

  But there is nothing! He is here six, seven weeks, and I do not speak to him more than twice.

  GENTLY

  Did he have an accent?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ach, yes. He came from America, is true. He has that slur, you know, and he speaks through his nose. I, myself, have met many Americans. During the War I was in London. This one, yes, he is like the others, indeed, is certain.

  GENTLY

  He had a strong accent?

  MRS BRESKE

  Oh, ja.

  GENTLY

  Perhaps a little too strong?

  MRS BRESKE

  How is that?

  GENTLY

  His accent impressed you though he spoke so little. Perhaps the accent was a fake.

  MRS BRESKE

  (And she is stirred by this, her eyes swelling, her hands thrusting; her hands, on the thickened ring finger of which she still wears a fat gold band.)

  Is not so, I tell you! He is an American from New York. His clothes too, his face, his ways – why should I tell you what is not so? Ask Frieda, she will tell you. I do not lie about this.

  GENTLY

  (Shrugs.)

  Just an idea. Why did he come to your hotel?

  MRS BRESKE

  Why? How should I know that? Why do other people come?

  GENTLY

  Have other Americans stayed here?

  MRS BRESKE

  No. My clients are English people.

  GENTLY

  No other nationalities – say Austrians?

  MRS BRESKE

  I do not remember. Ask Frieda.

  GENTLY

  Then surely you’d be rather interested in this one, your first, American. You’d want to give him a good impression. And in fact, he did stay on for six weeks?

  MRS BRESKE

  I cannot help about that. He is just a guest like other people. He say, It suit me, is what I want, I will stay on: like that.

  GENTLY

  He owed you nothing?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ach, no!

  GENTLY

  He always paid you in English money?

  MRS BRESKE

  In English money, ja.

  GENTLY

  No travellers’ cheques?

  MRS BRESKE

  (Shakes her head.)

  GENTLY

  Didn’t you wonder what he was doing here, staying on from week to week – no letters, no contacts; just idling away his time?

  MRS BRESKE

  It is his business, what he does.

  GENTLY

  But you’d have made some remark. You’d have said: You’re having a long holiday, Mr Clooney, some little thing like that.

  MRS BRESKE

  (She rocks the chair, her eyes protruding and distant. The impression you have is that her soul has departed, is perhaps wandering the streets of pre-war Vienna.)

  GENTLY

  Well?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja, some little thing. I try to remember myself. About his wife, I say that. That she will wonder where he is got to.

  GENTLY

  And what did he say?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ach, a joke. Yes, he is laughing, I remember. She is going, mmn, mmn, with other men, she will not wonder about him.

  GENTLY

  But he admitted having a wife.

  MRS BRESKE

  I tell you, it was a joke.

  GENTLY

  Was he . . . bitter, about it?

  MRS BRESKE

  No, not that one. He does not care, you understand?

  GENTLY

  Would you say he had something on his mind.

  MRS BRESKE

  He does not care about his wife. He laughs, he has jokes about her, is all over long ago. Ach, poor woman, whoever she is! I know. I know.

  (And Edith Breske is absent again, this time certainly in Vienna, waltzing again with that romantic fiddler, that Martin Breske, her first and falsest.)

  GENTLY

  Are you a widow, Mrs Breske?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ach, who can tell me that? He ran off to Berlin with a blonde hair-dresser. Perhaps the Nazis got hold of him. He was, you know – was ist ein Schmetterling?

  GENTLY

  Butterfly.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja, ein butterfly. A woman can do what she likes with him, he has no character, is a child. But good-looking, ach yes! I do not wish him any evil.

  GENTLY

  Your two daughters are very unlike.

  MRS BRESKE

  (Sharply.)

  They are both his, that is true. Trudi takes after her father, is nothing erstaunlich about that.

  GENTLY

  He was tall, then.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja, ja, he was not altogether short. Und Trudi has his eyes, his nose, ja, is very much like him.

  GENTLY

  (Pointing.)

  Would that be his sister on that photograph?

  MRS BRESKE

  (Turning quickly, so that the chair swings.)

  Was ist – nein, nein, er hat keine Schwester – jene ist Frau Lindemann – sie ist tot.

  GENTLY

  A relative?

  MRS BRESKE

  Oh, ja. She is my sister, Mitzi Lindemann. She married Herr Professor Hermann Lindemann. They are both dead before the war.

  GENTLY

  Then that’s where Trudi gets her looks.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja, is possible, is in the family. The Nazis killed Herr Professor. He is born the wrong side of the bridge.

  GENTLY

  What bridge?

  MRS BRESKE

  The Radetsky Bridge. Das heisst, he is a Jew. Also, he is known to be a Marxist. Is enough. They shoot him.

  GENTLY

  And your sister?

  MRS BRESKE

  (Shrugs.)

  She is already sick at that time. Ach, what do you know in your island? The sea out there is still all round you.

  She snatches her head and stares, protuberantly, at the same circumfluent sea, where it lies, patched with emerald, purple and gamboge, but hard blue, beyond her window. Edith Breske, who had seen no sea till those nightmare months of ’37, to whom it is, will ever be, a roaring desert of separation; never soothing, never inviting, but God’s mighty current dividing the land. She stares, daughter of muddy Danube, alien-eyed, at prison bars.

  GENTLY

  So perhaps the American had a wife. That is all you can tell me about him. Now, Mrs Breske, I want you to remember what you can about Tuesday evening. Did you see the American go out?

  MRS BRESKE

  (Shakes her head.)

  I see the poor man at dinner. After that, I don’t know. I think I do not see him again.

  GENTLY

  Who sat at his table?

  MRS BRESKE

  He has a table by himself.

  GENTLY

  Always?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja, always. He ask for the little window table.

  GENTLY

  That’s the window overlooking the drive.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja, and he has the room just above it. At first I give him a front room, but he says the noise of the sea keep him awake. That is all right, other people like it, I am quite happy he shall move.

  GENTLY

  So he had a room and a table overlooking the drive. It was almost as though he expected a visitor.

  MRS BRESKE

  (Hoists her shoulders.)

  GENTLY

  Did he have one?

  MRS BRESKE

  A thousand times I tell you, no! He is alone, that man. He does not talk, make friends. He sits in his room, walks on the beach, eats his food, listens to the music. You do not know he is there. He does not make any complaint. He seems content, he smiles at you. But h
e does not open his mouth.

  GENTLY

  Did that never strike you as odd?

  MRS BRESKE

  Odd? Himmel, they are all odd! I am too busy, I do not notice. Ach, he pays his bill, nicht wahr?

  GENTLY

  But you did notice.

  MRS BRESKE

  Is all the same! Other people are funny too.

  GENTLY

  Not quite so funny.

  MRS BRESKE

  Pfoo, pfoo.

  GENTLY

  Are they?

  MRS BRESKE

  (An impatient gesture.)

  GENTLY

  Going back to Tuesday evening. You saw the American at dinner. Who served him?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja – Franz. Franz is serving the little table.

  GENTLY

  Who is he?

  MRS BRESKE

  Who? A waiter. Franz Klapper. Is from Ischl.

  GENTLY

  A regular waiter?

  MRS BRESKE

  Oh, ja. Is here from two, three seasons.

  GENTLY

  What time would you have finished dinner?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ach, the service is over at nine. But people sit there, you know, there is the music, good wine. Till ten or eleven it is sometimes. The orchestra go off at eleven.

  GENTLY

  And the American kept sitting there?

  MRS BRESKE

  I do not know that myself. Frieda says he is still there at a quarter past ten.

  GENTLY

  Drinking?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja, that is certain. He is served six whiskies.

  GENTLY

  He listens to the music, and drinks.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja. It is his way.

  Gently is silent. Mrs Breske slides a look at him. Is not so terrible, this Herr Oberinspektor, though perhaps shrewd, ach yes! Now he arranges in his capacious mind (does he not resemble the great Willi, that chef, the favourite of crowned heads, whose disciple she is proud to be; who, as she is fond of telling, could break two dozen eggs in twenty seconds, the shells falling in a neat pile in a pan placed there to receive them – One does not break eggs, Fraulein Tichtel, one introduces them – ?) her words, not one of which he has forgotten or failed to give its full significance. What then? He can make nothing of them to the discredit of Edith Breske, or of the Hotel Continental, its staff, and its forty-four guests. He will ask his fill, no doubt, and write a long, highly official report, which will satisfy everybody concerned, and tie the matter up neatly; that is his business as a Herr Oberinspektor; but he can do no more. The great Willi, without eggs, could not make a Spanish omelette. Mrs Breske stares large-eyed, rocks sedately, waits.

  GENTLY

  So then the American goes out.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja, he often does this before retiring.

  GENTLY

  Always alone.

  MRS BRESKE

  Is what they say. I do not myself keep late hours.

  GENTLY

  When did you retire, Mrs Breske?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ach, nine, a half after. It is very tiring, you understand, I am a long time in the kitchen.

  GENTLY

  And then?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja?

  GENTLY

  What followed?

  MRS BRESKE

  (Stares at him, her teeth showing.)

  GENTLY

  When you had gone up, what followed?

  MRS BRESKE

  Was? I undress, go to bed!

  GENTLY

  And then?

  MRS BRESKE

  Then? Ich weiss nicht! – what do you mean, and then?

  GENTLY

  (Shakes his head.)

  MRS BRESKE

  (Her mouth crumples.)

  GENTLY

  It won’t do, Mrs Breske. This is a murder investigation. I have to know what people were doing, how far they can be eliminated. You told Inspector Shelton you slept alone. The waiter, Gordini, says he slept alone. Other people have said you slept together. If you did, you must tell me.

  MRS BRESKE

  (In tears.)

  Is not fair to ask this!

  GENTLY

  Don’t forget it clears Gordini.

  MRS BRESKE

  (Passionately.)

  Ach, Carlo! As though you believe – ! What could Carlo know about this?

  GENTLY

  (Shrugs.)

  He’s a strong boy, perhaps has a knife.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ach, Gott, Sie sind verrückt! Next it is me, is Trudi, is Frieda – are plenty of knives in the kitchen!

  GENTLY

  So.

  MRS BRESKE

  (Crying.)

  Is not fair! Why must I tell you? Carlo is gentle, like an angel. Franz, ja, he has a temper – but Carlo, Carlo! Is all madness!

  GENTLY

  (Waits.)

  MRS BRESKE

  (Still crying.)

  Carlo is kind, you understand?

  GENTLY

  I haven’t accused him.

  MRS BRESKE

  Carlo loves me. Ach, a woman needs to be loved! You ask if I am a widow. Ja, jawohl, I am a widow! All these years I have no husband, no one to sleep at my side. Is too much, is not right, a woman cannot do like that.

  GENTLY

  I’m not here to blame you, Mrs Breske.

  MRS BRESKE

  She needs a man, all the time. Is not alive, you understand, is not living, without a man. Ach, to be a lonely woman! How can one tell a man of this? Is nothing inside her, is all hollow. Without loving is no good!

  GENTLY

  Well.

  MRS BRESKE

  Is not right! You do not need to ask this.

  GENTLY

  I must know your movements.

  MRS BRESKE

  Oh, ja, ja!

  GENTLY

  You saw as much of the American as anyone.

  MRS BRESKE

  (She dashes angrily at the tears on her tallowy cheeks, seems about to give an explosive answer, then, surprisingly does not.)

  Are all the same, diese Polizisten. English, deutsch, it does not matter.

  GENTLY

  Gordini slept with you, didn’t he.

  MRS BRESKE

  Gut, so! What then?

  GENTLY

  When did he come, when did he leave?

  MRS BRESKE

  Und was tat er dort, you would like to know?

  GENTLY

  Just what I’m asking.

  MRS BRESKE

  Oh, ja. He brought up my night-cap, it is ten hours.

  GENTLY

  And stayed.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja, and slept.

  GENTLY

  Till.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ach, I am not sure. Is all this business, everyone awake. He was in my room till after six hours.

  GENTLY

  From ten p.m. to six a.m.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja, is certain, I can say.

  GENTLY

  That’s all about that, Mrs Breske. Thank you for being frank with me.

  MRS BRESKE

  (Does not look very grateful for Gently’s thanks. She makes a manner of humming sound through her nose, rather like an angry cat.)

  GENTLY

  (As though half to himself.)

  Of course . . . all this was very upsetting for you.

  MRS BRESKE

  You do not care about that. People’s feelings do not matter.

  GENTLY

  But you were upset, weren’t you?

  MRS BRESKE

  Ach, Gott, am I not to be? One of my guests has been killed – a good advertisement is it, ja?

  GENTLY

  And this it was that upset you?

  MRS BRESKE

  Is not enough? Ach, this man!

  GENTLY

  But wasn’t it mak
ing matters worse – to be hysterical over it in front of your guests?

  MRS BRESKE

  (Gapes for a moment.)

  I cry a little, nothing more! This man is killed who I have known – I cry, ja – I have my feelings.

  GENTLY

  So it wasn’t just the bad advertisement.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja – nein! I am not a stone.

  GENTLY

  Yet you spoke to him only twice.

  MRS BRESKE

  Es macht nichts – is my way!

  GENTLY

  (A faint shrug.)

  Perhaps, without noticing, you had become fond of him.

  MRS BRESKE

  Nein, I tell you – I do not care! Is nothing to me, is only a guest – Number 7, does not complain.

  GENTLY

  But you cry.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ach, ach!

  GENTLY

  Could it be you were afraid?

  MRS BRESKE

  (Says nothing, rocks her chair, stares, showing her bunched teeth.)

  GENTLY

  You may remember something later on. People often do that. Now I’d like to talk to some other people, Mrs Breske. First, I think, to your daughter.

  MRS BRESKE

  Ja . . . Frieda.

  GENTLY

  Yes.

  MRS BRESKE

  I will find her, send her to you.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AND NOW MRS Breske, leaving her parlour, coming into the hall, where guests sit waiting, is much less easy in her mind about the Herr Oberinspektor and his shrewdness: so much so that her first act, after scowling distantly at the guests, is to enter the bar and to order a neat brandy from Rudi, the bartender. She drinks it quickly. Ach, Rudi! Rudi is a youngster from Hochstadtbei-Zoom. He has brown eyes and a bee-stung mouth and may one day serve night-caps. Ach, Rudi! Ja, ’dige Frau? Mrs Breske shakes her head. She cannot put her uneasiness in words, either English or German. And Rudi gazes at her doe-eyed, troubled by Frau Breske’s trouble, wondering if the occasion of it is some sin or omission of his own. You knew the American, Rudi? Absurd question! Of course he did. So? Another shake of the head. Ach, Rudi! – is all. Then she stands turning the brandy-glass, looking at Rudi without seeing him, till the lad becomes embarrassed and starts to blush round the ears. What is the matter with Frau Breske? Rudi is used to a different approach.

 

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