'No — please.' Kielland pushed the instrument across to me.
'Jill,' I said. 'Will you get me Fjaerland. I want to speak to a man called Ulvik — Johan Ulvik. He'll probably be staying at the hotel there.' I was watching Jorgensen's face and saw the sudden interest that leapt into his eyes at the mention of our representative's name.
She picked up the receiver and asked for Fjaerland. There was a short silence. Jorgensen began to tap with his fingers on the blotting paper that covered the desk. 'Er det Boya Hotel!' Jill asked. 'Kunne de si meg om der bar en herr Johan Ulvik der? Utmerket. Jeg vil gjeme snakke med ham. Takk.' As she waited she straightened up and gazed out of the window. Her face was set and firm. This was a different Jill. This was the girl who had worked for the Linge Company during the war. And I realised suddenly that besides being attractive, she was also very efficient. She bent down quickly as a voice crackled in the receiver. 'Er det herr Ulvik?' And then in English. 'Hold the line, please. Mr Gansert wishes to speak to you.'
As I took the receiver from her, I said, 'You and Curtis go down and stir up breakfast. I'll be along in a minute.' I glanced at Curtis to make sure he'd got the point. Then I went to the telephone. 'That you, Mr Ulvik?' I asked.
'Ulvik speaking.' The voice was thick and faint over the telephone.
'This is Gansert,' I said. 'Sir Clinton Mann has been in touch with you?'
'Yes. That is why I am at Fjaerland.'
'Good. Now listen,' I went on. 'I want the body of George Farnell, which is buried at Fjaerland, to be exhumed. I want a post-mortem. Is there any difficulty about that?'
'The police will have to be informed of a reason.'
'Tell' them we have reason to believe that his death was not an accident.' I glanced across at Jorgensen. He was gazing out of the window. But he had stopped drumming with his fingers. He was tense and listening to every word. 'Arrange for the exhumation to be carried out as soon as possible. Can you manage that?'