“It would be poison,” Danilo declared. “It belonged to that baby rat, Jubé Bilic. Meta dear, could I have some hot coffee?”
She got up and went to the stove for the pot.
X
Meta did not seem to be shocked by the display of an unattached human finger on her dining table, but she was. The proof is that she filled her husband’s cup with steaming so-called coffee and returned the pot to the stove without asking her guests if they wanted some, which was not like her. When she was back in her chair Wolfe spoke.
“An impressive exhibit, Danilo, no doubt of that. Naturally you expect a question, and I supply it. Where’s the rest of him?”
“Where it won’t be found.” Danilo sipped. “This method of confirming a removal is not a Montenegrin custom, as you know. It was introduced to us by the Russians a few years ago, and we have indulged them by adopting it.”
“It seems extreme — not the finger, the removal. I assume that when you left us you went to tell someone that he was lurking in this neighborhood, and to give instructions that he be found and removed.”
“That’s right.”
Wolfe grunted. “Only because he had followed us to your house?”
“No.” Danilo picked up the exhibit, wadded the paper around it, got up and went to the stove, opened the door, tossed the thing in, closed the door, and returned to his chair. “It will smell a little,” he said, “but no more than a morsel of lamb. Jubé has been a nuisance ever since he started going to the university. For a year now he has made things harder for me by trying to persuade Gospo Stritar that my true loyalty is to the Spirit of the Black Mountain — and also, I have reason to believe, trying to persuade Belgrade. He was already condemned, and by following you here he merely presented an opportunity.”