'Remember those cuttings from the Corriere delta Venezia you sent me? One of them has a reference to it. It was the consignment from the bank at Venice. Part of it disappeared en route. The actual spot where it disappeared was the Tre Croci Pass. This bunch of carrion are here because of it. Mayne, Keramikos, the Contessa and Valdini — they all know about it. They all think it's somewhere up here. The interesting point is — who actually knows where it is?'
'Do you know?' I asked.
He shook his head. 'No. As far as I am concerned, it was just a hunch, based on the news that Stelben owned Col da Varda. You see, when Stelben was originally arrested, I interrogated him in Milan. It was this story of the missing gold that interested us. I spent a lot of time on the case. I even went to Berlin and saw—' At that moment Mayne stopped playing. There was a sudden silence. The howl of the wind outside invaded the room. It was a dismal, nerve-racking sound. Beyond the windows, the snowflakes sped by in a never-ending stream. 'Better go on playing,' Engles said to Mayne, 'or everybody will start screaming at each other again.'
Mayne nodded quite cheerfully. He seemed perfectly at ease again. He settled himself on the stool and plunged into Symphonic Fantastique. Keramikos sidled along the bar. 'Will you please tell me, Mr Engles, what was the cause of the trouble between the Contessa Forelli and Mayne?' he asked.
Engles gave him a quick resume of what had occurred. When he had finished, Keramikos nodded. 'Ah! It is the thought of all that gold that made her mad. She will have been called worse things than a prostitute in her life. So she does not know where it is, eh?' He thrust his head forward suddenly. 'Do you know where it is, Mr Engles?'
'If I did, you would hardly expect me to tell you,' Engles replied.
Keramikos gave a short laugh that was more like a grunt. 'Of course not, my friend. But we should help each other a little, you and I. These people here' — and he nodded in the direction of the Contessa and Mayne — 'they are only interested for themselves. With them it is self-interest. Whereas you and I, we have a mission. We do not work for ourselves.'
'And who are you working for now, Keramikos?' Engles asked.
'For my country,' he replied. 'Always for my country.' He peered more closely at Engles. 'You remember that we have met before, eh?'
'Of course I do,' Engles replied. 'It was at Piraeus. You had some ELAS guerillas with you and were attempting to mine the harbour at night.'