reader.”
“Thanks, but it didn’t take telepathy. You’re a lousy actress, or maybe just a lousy criminal. At least what you’d done to yourself seemed like a crime to you, didn’t it? And of course you were in bad shape and not thinking very clearly, so you let yourself go off in all directions at once. Practically charging the medical staff with malpractice at the same time as you accused Karin Segerby of attempted murder, to her face as well as to me. You even threw me the name, Lysaniemi, just to keep my mind occupied, so I wouldn’t think too hard about you and your medical situation and how you might have got that way. Of course, the following morning you realized that you’d overreacted, and backed off from a lot of the wild stuff you’d said.”
Astrid grimaced. “It still seems very clairvoyant to me.”
I said, “There were other inconsistencies. The way you’d been beating at the gates of bureaucracy to help you find the missing husband you were supposedly mad about; but then it turned out you really weren’t too crazy about him after all, or too jealous of the lady he’d run off with. You even asked me to give the lovebirds a helping hand. And finally, so weak you could hardly stand, you let me carry you off to Europe without any significant protests. Ordinarily, a lady as ill as you were would have screamed rape and murder at being asked to travel even across the street; you accompanied me stoically across an ocean, and didn’t even complain about leaving behind your good suitcase and all your nice clothes except those you’d worn to the hospital. Why? Could it be that the original plan had been to decoy me over here, using the name Lysaniemi; and since I was being so beautifully cooperative, you felt you had no choice but to play along, regardless of the risks and sacrifices involved? Very admirable, ma’am, very brave considering your condition, but just a little suspicious under the circumstances.”
She smiled slowly. “It is a very good thing you are not married. What woman would want a husband who could see through all her little deceits and subterfuges?”
“As a matter of fact I had a wife once; but that wasn’t why she left me.” I looked at the handsome lady in the elaborate, inexpensive negligee. “It’s motive time,” I said. “What’s this all about, Astrid?”
She shook her head minutely. “I cannot tell you that, yet. Soon, perhaps, but not yet.”
I said, “Your husband disappears, with feminine company. A lady named Beilstein disappears, with masculine company. Various other people disappear in equally plausible ways, at least so I’m told. You come to us for help in finding your missing hubby. Not satisfied with what’s being done for you, you stage a phony heart episode—never mind that it backfired—to hint at a possible murder attempt and get a private bodyguard assigned to you by my chief, who then up and vanishes in his turn. Meanwhile, courageously overcoming your own weakness, you’re leading the tame agent you’ve acquired, me, out of the U.S. and up into the Scandinavian Arctic to find a village with a funny name where the greatest excitement ever is probably the arrival of the reindeer with the weekly mail. Tell me something that makes sense of all this, sweetheart.” I stared at her grimly; but she shook her head and remained silent. At last I shrugged. “Well, okay, for the time being. Let’s see how it breaks. But please remember that the resemblance between me and a nice guy is fairly superficial. Next time I ask, I’ll get an answer. One way or another.”
She studied my face for a moment; then she smiled slowly. “You are very tough, are you not? Will you please show me what you hold in your right hand?”
I brought the hand into sight with the palm-sized .25 automatic I’d released from its clip earlier in the conversation. I said, “I don’t like to be the only character in a room not holding a gun.”
She glanced down quickly
“Thanks, but it didn’t take telepathy. You’re a lousy actress, or maybe just a lousy criminal. At least what you’d done to yourself seemed like a crime to you, didn’t it? And of course you were in bad shape and not thinking very clearly, so you let yourself go off in all directions at once. Practically charging the medical staff with malpractice at the same time as you accused Karin Segerby of attempted murder, to her face as well as to me. You even threw me the name, Lysaniemi, just to keep my mind occupied, so I wouldn’t think too hard about you and your medical situation and how you might have got that way. Of course, the following morning you realized that you’d overreacted, and backed off from a lot of the wild stuff you’d said.”
Astrid grimaced. “It still seems very clairvoyant to me.”
I said, “There were other inconsistencies. The way you’d been beating at the gates of bureaucracy to help you find the missing husband you were supposedly mad about; but then it turned out you really weren’t too crazy about him after all, or too jealous of the lady he’d run off with. You even asked me to give the lovebirds a helping hand. And finally, so weak you could hardly stand, you let me carry you off to Europe without any significant protests. Ordinarily, a lady as ill as you were would have screamed rape and murder at being asked to travel even across the street; you accompanied me stoically across an ocean, and didn’t even complain about leaving behind your good suitcase and all your nice clothes except those you’d worn to the hospital. Why? Could it be that the original plan had been to decoy me over here, using the name Lysaniemi; and since I was being so beautifully cooperative, you felt you had no choice but to play along, regardless of the risks and sacrifices involved? Very admirable, ma’am, very brave considering your condition, but just a little suspicious under the circumstances.”
She smiled slowly. “It is a very good thing you are not married. What woman would want a husband who could see through all her little deceits and subterfuges?”
“As a matter of fact I had a wife once; but that wasn’t why she left me.” I looked at the handsome lady in the elaborate, inexpensive negligee. “It’s motive time,” I said. “What’s this all about, Astrid?”
She shook her head minutely. “I cannot tell you that, yet. Soon, perhaps, but not yet.”
I said, “Your husband disappears, with feminine company. A lady named Beilstein disappears, with masculine company. Various other people disappear in equally plausible ways, at least so I’m told. You come to us for help in finding your missing hubby. Not satisfied with what’s being done for you, you stage a phony heart episode—never mind that it backfired—to hint at a possible murder attempt and get a private bodyguard assigned to you by my chief, who then up and vanishes in his turn. Meanwhile, courageously overcoming your own weakness, you’re leading the tame agent you’ve acquired, me, out of the U.S. and up into the Scandinavian Arctic to find a village with a funny name where the greatest excitement ever is probably the arrival of the reindeer with the weekly mail. Tell me something that makes sense of all this, sweetheart.” I stared at her grimly; but she shook her head and remained silent. At last I shrugged. “Well, okay, for the time being. Let’s see how it breaks. But please remember that the resemblance between me and a nice guy is fairly superficial. Next time I ask, I’ll get an answer. One way or another.”
She studied my face for a moment; then she smiled slowly. “You are very tough, are you not? Will you please show me what you hold in your right hand?”
I brought the hand into sight with the palm-sized .25 automatic I’d released from its clip earlier in the conversation. I said, “I don’t like to be the only character in a room not holding a gun.”
She glanced down quickly
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