‘Isaac Rinkstein is one of the biggest jewellers in Prague.’
‘What’s his arrest got to do with Tucek?’
‘Everything — nothing. I do not know.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘All I know is he deal in diamonds and precious stones.’
‘But he’s been arrested for illegal currency operations,’ I pointed out.
He smiled wryly. ‘That is the legal excuse. It is his dealings in precious stones that will interest the authorities, I think.’ He bent the ruler between his two hands till I thought it must break. ‘I am very much afraid Rinkstein will talk.’ He got up suddenly and took the paper away from me. ‘You must go now. I have talk too much already. Please repeat nothing — nothing, you understand?’ He was looking at me and I saw he was frightened. ‘Sixteen years I have been with the Tucek company.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Goodbye, Mr. Farrell.’ His hand was cold and soft.
‘I’ll be back in Pilsen in about three months,’ I said as he took me to the door. ‘I shall look forward to seeing you again then.’
His lips twisted in a thin smile. ‘I hope so,’ he said. He opened the door and called to his assistant to get me a car. It was with a feeling of relief that I was swept through the factory gates and out into the streets of Pilsen. Black clouds were coming up from the west and as I got out at my hotel the first drops of rain fell on the dry pavements.
I phoned the airport and checked that my passage to Munich and through to Milan was fixed. Then I got my raincoat and hurried across the road to the bookshop on the corner. It was not quite five. I searched through the paper backs with my eye on the door. Five o’clock struck from a nearby church. There was no sign of Maxwell. I stayed on until the shop shut at five-thirty. But he didn’t come. I bought several books and after waiting for a bit in the doorway, went back to the hotel. There was no message for me at the desk. I ordered tea to be sent up to my room and tried to finish off my report. But my mind could concentrate on nothing but Tucek’s arrest. Also I was worried about Maxwell.
In the end I went down to the bar. For a while I tried to persuade myself that Tucek and Maxwell were nothing to do with me. But it was no good. What had happened filled me with a sense of helplessness. It made me want to get drunk again, so I went in to dinner. And after dinner I went out to a cinema where an old English film was showing. I got back shortly before eleven. There was no message for me and nobody had called to see me. I got a drink and took it up to my room. I stayed up, waiting for Maxwell.
But he didn’t come and when the church clock struck midnight I went to bed. It was a long time before I could get to sleep. I kept on thinking of Jan Tucek, somewhere over on the other side of Pilsen under house arrest, and wondering what had become of Maxwell.