Ildiko put down her coffee cup carefully and then stared hard at me. ‘Criminale has gone already?’ she asked. ‘Yes, he took off again last night, right in the middle of the concert at Bellavecchia.’ ‘And where is he?’ asked Ildiko. ‘I’ve no idea,’ I said, ‘But probably holed up in some hotel across the lake having a wonderful time with Miss Belli.’ ‘He is with Belli?’ asked Ildiko, looking very distressed, ‘Then we must find him.’ ‘I know,’ I said, ‘The problem is how. He seems to have disappeared in a big way this time. Even Monza is worried.’ ‘This is very bad,’ said Ildiko, ‘How did it happen?’ ‘One minute he was sitting there a few rows in front of me, listening to The Three Seasons,’ I said, ‘The next the two of them had gone completely.’ ‘And you went there?’ she asked, ‘You went to the concert without me?’ ‘Of course I went without you,’ I said, ‘I intended to go with you, but you weren’t there. You were off stripping the shelves bare in Cano.’

There was an expression of jealousy on Ildiko’s face. ‘And of course you went with someone else?’ she said, ‘Miss Uccello?’ ‘No, I didn’t go with Miss Uccello,’ I said, ‘Actually I went with Cosima Bruckner.’ ‘Who?’ she asked. ‘The lady from the European Community, beef section,’ I said, ‘Except now she tells me she’s not from the beef section at all.’ ‘The one in the black trousers?’ asked Ildiko. ‘That’s the one,’ I said. ‘Oh, and do you like them?’ asked Ildiko bitterly, ‘If you had told me you liked them all that much, I could have bought some.’ ‘I don’t like them,’ I said, ‘And no need to be jealous.’ ‘I like to be jealous,’ said Ildiko. ‘Look, Cosima Bruckner is a very strange lady,’ I said, ‘I don’t know what she’s up to here, but I know one thing, she’s been to the opera once too often.’ ‘So, you are not in love with her?’ ‘Definitely not,’ I said. ‘Well, I think she cares for you very much,’ said Ildiko. ‘I doubt it,’ I said, ‘What makes you think so?’ ‘Because she is over there on the terrace, looking for you,’ said Ildiko, ‘In the black trousers.’ I turned to look; there, standing at the further end of the hotel terrace, gazing out spiritually over the lake, was Cosima Bruckner.

Cosima noticed my glance and inclined her head just slightly, indicating that I should join her. ‘Excuse me,’ I said to Ildiko, The black trousers are calling.’ ‘Pig!’ said Ildiko as I walked across the terrace. Cosima neither turned to look at me nor took her gaze away from the lake as I came to her side. ‘Do not attract any attention,’ she said, ‘You know your quarry has fled?’ ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘He has definitely debunked,’ said Cosima, ‘He has been absent from the congress all day. I thought you would like to be informed.’ ‘I knew that,’ I said. ‘And do you also know where he is?’ she asked. ‘Probably in some hotel across the lake with Miss Belli,’ I said. ‘No,’ said Cosima Bruckner, ‘He crossed the Swiss border early this morning.’ ‘He crossed the border?’ ‘It is only ten or so kilometres from here, I told you,’ said Cosima, ‘Our people watch it very carefully, of course. The time was logged very precisely. Six thirty-five to be exact.’ I stared at her in amazement. ‘Your people?’ I asked. ‘Naturally,’ said Cosima. ‘You mean it’s Criminale you’ve been watching?’ ‘Not only Criminale,’ said Cosima, ‘But we think he is a part of it.’ ‘A part of what?’ I asked. ‘Of course I cannot tell you,’ said Cosima.

‘Tell me,’ I asked, ‘do you read spy novels at all? Someone said they’d gone right out of fashion since the end of the Cold War.’ ‘I do not have rime for books,’ said Cosima, ‘And do not think international problems have now ended. Many are just beginning. Now here. Do not look at it now.’ After a careful glance round, Cosima had slipped a piece of paper into my shirt pocket. ‘What’s this?’ I asked. ‘His address in Switzerland,’ said Cosima. ‘And what do I do?’ I asked, ‘Read it in the toilet and then eat it?’ ‘It will not be necessary,’ said Cosima, ‘He is staying in Lausanne at a well-known hotel. When you track him down, please to keep me informed. If anyone questions you, I ask you not to implicate me under any circumstances.’ ‘Keep you informed about what?’ I asked. ‘His companions, his movements, his intentions.’ ‘I don’t see why I should,’ I said, ‘You can’t get me ejaculated from Barolo now. I’ve been ejaculated already.’ ‘I hope you do not think I was the one who was ejaculating you,’ said Cosima Bruckner, ‘You were far too valuable to us for that. But I hope you are idealist enough to care for the future of our common Europe.’

‘I say prayers for Jacques Delors every night before I go to bed,’ I said, ‘But if you really think a world-famous philosopher of Criminale’s distinction spends his time smuggling sides of beef across the Swiss border . . .’ ‘I do not,’ said Cosima, ‘There are enough cows in Switzerland already. These are financial matters. I see you have found out very little after all.’ ‘I think you could say so,’ I said. ‘But I ask you again what I asked last night. Have you see anything at all suspicious while you were at Barolo?’ I suddenly had one useful thought. ‘There is one thing,’ I said, ‘I think you should keep a very close eye on a man called Codicil who has just arrived.’ ‘A new arrival, very interesting,’ she said, ‘You think he is a part of it?’ ‘I’m sure he’s a part of it,’ I said, ‘He’s posing as a professor of philosophy from Vienna.’ ‘My friend, you have been very valuable,’ said Cosima gravely, ‘I will watch him while you watch Criminale. And then we will keep each other informed.’ ‘We must all do our bit for Europe,’ I said. ‘Exactly,’ said Cosima, ‘Now I must go back to the villa. Remember, this meeting has not taken place. Call me tomorrow night. And do not follow me when I leave. Just go back to your companion in a natural way.’

Frankly, I really did not know what to make of Cosima Bruckner, who seemed to have strayed into my life from some quite different type of story altogether. But there she was, or at least had been (I watched her slip away quietly through the potted palms, avoiding the hotel staff), and paradise seemed to be slipping away from me in quite a big way. There was the mystery of the appearance of Codicil, which I had thought was enough; and now there was the mystery of the disappearance of Criminale, and just when I had begun to see him as a man above fault, a man of virtue, a man I seriously admired. I rejoined Ildiko, who had not failed to take full advantage of my absence: she had ordered herself French brandy and the most expensive ice-cream coupe on the menu. ‘I put all this on your bill,’ she said, looking at me angrily. ‘Why not?’ I asked, ‘I can’t pay for any of this anyway.’ ‘And how was Black Trousers?’ asked Ildiko, ‘Did she tell you she is really crazy for you?’

‘Ildiko, if she’s crazy, it’s not for me,’ I said, ‘She’s interested in Bazlo Criminale. She’s been following him, apparently. She seems to think he’s involved in some kind of Euro-fraud.’ ‘And what is that, Euro-fraud?’ asked Ildiko. ‘Fraud is doing illegal things with money, smuggling it, breaking laws, cheating investors and so on,’ I said, ‘And Euro-fraud is when they do it with my taxes, when I pay them.’ ‘And you don’t think Criminale Bazlo does something like that?’ asked Ildiko. 7 don’t believe it, it’s absurd,’ I said, ‘But Cosima Bruckner does.’ ‘Then we must find him,’ said Ildiko, grabbing my arm, ‘It’s important.’ ‘Well, there’s one thing to be said for Cosima,’ I said, ‘She did tell me where he is.’ ‘She told you?’ asked Ildiko, excitedly, ‘Where?’ ‘He’s in Lausanne in Switzerland.’ ‘Of course in Switzerland,’ said Ildiko obscurely, ‘Now we must go there.’ ‘I haven’t any money,’ I said, ‘Remember the shopping?’ ‘But you must get some,’ said Ildiko, looking excited. ‘It all depends on Lavinia,’ I said, ‘I’ll go upstairs and call her. But please, please, Ildiko, don’t order anything else while I’m away.’

This is getting absolutely ridiculous, Francis,’ said Lavinia, when I reached her at her room in Vienna, ‘Criminale has hopped it again? Where’s he gone now? South America?’ ‘He’s staying at some hotel in Lausanne,’ I said. ‘What’s he doing there?’ asked Lavinia. ‘I’m not sure,’ I said, ‘Except he seems to have run off with the most beautiful girl at the congress. And maybe half the European beef mountain as well.’ ‘You’re not serious,’ said Lavinia. ‘I think the beef is probably a matter of mistaken identity,’ I said, ‘But I’m quite serious about the rest. And there’s something else I’m serious about, Lavinia. Money. I’m stuck, I haven’t any left.’ Lavinia squealed at the other end. ‘Francis, we’ve nearly spent the whole recce budget,’ she said, ‘Have you any idea what opera tickets cost in Vienna?’ ‘Speaking of Vienna,’ I said, ‘Professor Codicil’s turned up here, messing up things.’ ‘Actually the word in Vienna is that Codicil is quite a famous prick,’ said Lavinia, ‘Into all sorts of strange Habsburgian arrangements. Masonic lodges, and so on.’ ‘Who told you that, Lavinia?’ I asked. ‘Well, you remember Gerstenbacker, the little raver?’ asked Lavinia, ‘I’ve spent an evening or two with him. What he doesn’t know about Vienna isn’t worth knowing.’