Not much later, the Ultimate Driving Machine zigzagged across the bridge to Margaret Island and dropped me at my hotel. I thanked Sandor Hollo and said I hoped we would use his services one day; I said goodbye, with an embrace, to Ildiko Hazy. Back in my room, I picked up the phone and rang Lavinia in Vienna. ‘I was just eating almond tart in the shower,’ she said, ‘You missed a brilliant opera. All the Japanese were there, recording it so they could actually listen to it when they got back home.’ ‘You found someone to go with?’ I asked. ‘Yes, of course, Franz-Josef Gerstenbacker,’ said Lavinia, ‘He’s quite a little raver, isn’t he, that one. So how’s wherever you are now?’ ‘I’m in Budapest,’ I said, ‘And listen, I almost met Doctor Criminale.’ ‘You did what?’ asked Lavinia, ‘You mean you’ve found him at last?’ ‘Not quite,’ I said, ‘He’s been here, he has an apartment, but he’s gone again.’ ‘Then find him, Francis,’ said Lavinia, ‘And when you do, nestle in his bosom like a viper.’ ‘I tried,’ I said, ‘He’s gone abroad again, on some project. His caretaker doesn’t know where, he could be anywhere.’

‘Now look, there must be someone who knows where he is,’ said Lavinia, ‘His mother, his mistress, the man at the post office. Don’t lose him now. Leave no stone unturned.’ ‘You’d like me to take another couple of days?’ I asked. ‘Why not?’ said Lavinia, ‘You’re not doing anything else. Oh, by the way, you must have really upset old Codicil. Gerstenbacker says he’s told everyone in Vienna not to talk to you. And he cabled the London office and now his lawyer’s slapping some injunction on the programme.’ ‘So what happened?’ I asked. ‘Ros cabled back and told him to go to hell. He’s talking through his professorial hat. How’s your room in Bucharest?’ ‘Budapest,’ I said, ‘Oh, it’s great, a glorious view over the Danube.’ ‘Really?’ said Lavinia, ‘That means it’s costing too much.’ ‘It’s where all the film companies stay,’ I said. ‘What?’ said Lavinia, ‘That means it really 15 costing too much. Don’t eat any more meals, Francis, just have snacks. We’re on a very tight budget.’ ‘Sorry, Lavinia, I’m just on my way down to dinner,’ I said. ‘Now darling . . .’ Lavinia began, but I put down the phone.

I went down to the bar and ordered a drink. The Hungarian beauties were there again, perched up on their barstools, chatting excitedly and looking over at me. I went across to the maître d’ and asked for a table. ‘I have tables for Peat Marwick,’ he said, running his finger down the list, ‘Also Dun and Bradstreet, Price Waterhorse, Cooper Lybrand. Or perhaps you are Adam Smith Institute?’ Evidently the film companies were out on the town tonight. ‘No, I’m not with a party, I’m on my own,’ I said. ‘No one should have to eat all on his own, it is too sad,’ said . the Hungarian beauty from last night, joining me again, ‘You have dollars tonight? If you have dollars I will love you really.’ ‘For two, sir,’ said the maître d’. ‘No, I’d like to eat on my own,’ I said. ‘Are you a queer person?’ asked the Hungarian beauty. ‘No, a philosopher,’ I said, ‘I just want to do some thinking.’ ‘Very well,’ said the girl, ‘You can always find me later, if you change your mind.’

So I went and sat alone in the dining-room, watching the other tables fill up with laughing accountants from London and New York, gaily spreading the delights of the free market and the international marketplace ever further eastward, even as their colleagues were beginning to feel the pinch of recession, retreat and redundancy back home. I had just ordered the goulasch I had been avoiding for two days when another Hungarian beauty in a miniskirt came over to the table and said, ‘Oh dear, are you all alone?’ ‘Yes, I rather prefer it,’ I said. ‘Really, I didn’t think so,’ she said. I looked up, and saw that she was Ildiko Hazy, standing there in her blue dress, smiling at me. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘Please sit down.’ ‘You thought I was one of those who would charge you something?’ she asked, sitting down, ‘Well, I am not.’ ‘Of course not,’ I said, ‘Have dinner with me.’ ‘I hate to interrupt you, when you are so happy at yourself,’ she said. ‘No, I’m not,’ I said, handing her the menu, ‘Have something, please.’

‘Lunch, and now dinner,’ said Ildiko Hazy, taking the menu and looking at it, ‘You know, it is just like an affair. Do you like to know why I came?’ ‘Because you thought you’d like to see me again,’ I suggested. ‘Because I know where is Criminale,’ said Ildiko, ‘Now, what shall I have? I think anything but goulasch.’ I stared at her; she smiled back at me. ‘Say that again,’ I said, ‘You know where is Criminale?’ ‘This old lady at the apartment, she told me everything,’ said Ildiko, ‘But I didn’t like to explain it to you while Hollo Sandor was there. I do not trust him.’ ‘But you’re going to tell me now?’ I asked. ‘Well, I have first a condition,’ said Ildiko, ‘That means, if you don’t accept, then I don’t tell you, yes?’ ‘What’s the condition?’ I asked. ‘When you go there to find him, I want to go with you,’ said Ildiko, ‘I also want to find him for myself.’

‘Do you?’ I asked, ‘Why?’ ‘Because I want him to make me a contract for his new book before he sells it to some other house here,’ said Ildiko, ‘You know it is very hard for us now, here in the free market. Once we belonged to the state, now we must try to be more private. But you know how is capitalism. Everything is money, then money and more money. Nothing is friendship, nothing is trust. But I promise if you say yes I will trust you. You will buy me a ticket, and we will both go there. Is it yes?’ I looked at her, at her blonde hair and her bright smiling face. I had to admit the idea was seriously tempting. ‘Wait a minute,’ I said, ‘It depends how far we have to go.’ ‘You are a very rich man,’ she said. ‘I am not a very rich man,’ I said, ‘I’m a television researcher on a very tight budget. I have this really mean producer.’ ‘I think I will have the smoked salmon,’ said Ildiko to the waiter, looking at me defiantly, ‘I did not think you were mean.’

‘I’m not,’ I said, ‘I’m just like everyone else in the free market. I have to satisfy my employer.’ ‘Yes, everyone has something to keep them in place,’ said Ildiko, ‘Sometimes the secret policemen, sometimes a boss and a mortgage. Well, okay, don’t worry. It’s not so far really.’ ‘What do you mean?’ I asked. ‘It is not Japan, not South America,’ said Ildiko, ‘So is that all right? Don’t you love to take me?’ ‘It’s outside Hungary?’ I asked. Ildiko nodded. ‘In the West?’ She nodded again. ‘How far west?’ I asked. ‘Okay, I tell you this,’ said Ildiko, ‘It is in north Italy, not so very far at all. You know, Hollo Sandor would love to take me there, in his Ultimate Machine. And he can get me Western currency easy, with all his fixes. Don’t you feel a bit lucky I like better to go there with you?’ ‘Of course,’ I said, ‘Okay, north Italy, that’s not so bad. Let’s go! We’ll eat our dinner and then I’ll call Vienna and get them to cable us some money.’

The West, the West, he takes me to the West,’ said Ildiko, delighted, ‘Oh, by the way, just one little problem. How to get invited. He is at the Villa Barolo on Lake Cano. Maybe you know it, they say it is the best place in the world to go and write. But it belongs to an American foundation, with some great heiress.’ ‘What’s Criminale doing there?’ I asked. ‘Oh, they are holding some great international congress there, on literature and power,’ said Ildiko, ‘Of course they need Criminale.’ ‘Then how could we get in?’ I asked. ‘They would not invite me, of course,’ said Ildiko, ‘But you are an important British journalist, yes? You work on a newspaper?’ ‘Well, I did,’ I said, ‘But the newspaper I work for just closed down.’ Ildiko looked at me. ‘But do they know that at Barolo?’ she asked. ‘Come to think of it, they probably don’t,’ I said. That’s right,’ said Ildiko, approvingly, ‘Just think a little Hungarian. Say you are writing an important piece about it, send them a cable, yes?’ ‘All right, I will,’ I said, ‘When we’ve eaten this.’