Thomas had deposited, in anticipation of some such amiable customs, a substantial sum of cash with the prison management. He organized victualing in the following manner. Every morning he summoned Francesco, the fat cook, and talked over with him, in detail, the day's menu. Francesco then sent his assistant to market. The cook was absolutely delighted with Senhor Jean. The gentleman in Cell 519 was always passing new recipes and culinary tips on to him.
Thomas Lieven thoroughly enjoyed himself. He regarded his imprisonment as a brief, well-earned period of sick leave before his departure for South America.
He was not in the least disturbed at not having yet heard from Estrella. He felt sure that the darling would be doing her very best to book him an overseas passage ...
A week after Thomas Lieven's arrival at the prison he was given a cell-mate. Juliao, the friendly warder whom Thomas had lavishly tipped, brought the newcomer into the cell on the morning of September 21, 1940.
Thomas sat up on his cot with a start. He had never seen such a hideous human being in all his life.
The stranger looked like the late sexton of Notre Dame. He was small, he had a hump, he limped and he was entirely bald. His face had a corpselike pallor. Yet his cheeks swelled out like those of a hamster. Finally, he suffered from a nervous twitching of the lips.
"Bom dia," said the hunchback with a grin.
"Bom dia" murmured Thomas in a strangled tone.
"My name is Alcoba. Lazarus Alcoba." The newcomer held out a clawlike hand, covered with black hair.
Thomas shook it with the greatest horror and repugnance. He did not suspect that a true and loyal friend, with a heart of gold, had come into his life.
Lazarus Alcoba, as he made himself at home on the second cot, said in a hoarse, grating voice: "They've picked me up for smuggling, the sods—but this time they won't be able to prove anything. They'll have to let me out one of these days. But I'm not in any hurry . .. Eh-eh, ate a manha." He grinned again.
"I'm also absolutely innocent," Thomas began. But Lazarus interrupted him with a cheerful wave of the hand. "Ay, ay, they tell me you pinched a diamond bracelet. Sheer slander, eh? Tcha, tcha, tcha—what wicked, wicked people."
"How did you know .. ."
"Oh, I know all about you, my lad! You can treat me as a friend, you know." The hunchback scratched himself exuberantly. "You're French and you're a banker and the sweetie who ran you in is the Consul Estrella Rodrigues. You're fond of cooking ..."
"Who told you that?"
"Friend, I picked you out, I'm telling you!"
"Picked me out?"
Lazarus beamed, till his hideous countenance looked twice as wide, "Sure. You're the most interesting man in this clink. Got to have some sort of spiritual uplift in stir haven't we, hey?" He leaned forward familiarly and patted Thomas's knee. "I'll give you a little tip for the future, Jean. Next time they turn you in, ask to see the chief warder right away. I do that every time I'm nicked."
"Why?"
"I tell that idle sod of a chief warder that I'll keep his books for him. So I can go through everyone's papers. And after a few days I know the first and last thing about all the other lags. So I can pick out the best of 'em as a cell-mate."
Thomas began to find the hunchback amusing. He offered him a cigarette. "And what made you pick on me in particular?"
"I could see you had what it takes. Unfortunately you're only a beginner. But on the other hand you have good manners. A bloke could learn something from you. You're a banker. You could show me how to play the market. You like cooking. And that might be useful to learn too. It's never a waste of time to learn anything, you know . .."
"Yes," said Thomas pensively. "That's true." He was thinking, What a lot of things I've learned since fate snatched me out of my peaceful career! Goodness knows what I'll still have to go through. My secure, respectable existence, my London club and my comfortable flat in Mayfair, how far away they seem now, all vanished into an impenetrable sea of fog ...
"What about ganging up together?" said Lazarus. "You teach me all you know and I teach you all I know. How's that?"
"First-rate idea," said Thomas, delighted. "What do you fancy for lunch, Lazarus?"
"I've been thinking of something as a matter of fact, but I'm not sure whether you know the recipe ... that stupid lout in the kitchen certainly doesn't."
"Well, give us a lead!"
"Well, I've worked in pretty well every country in Europe, you know. I'm greedy, I quite admit it. And I prefer French cooking. But I've nothing against German. One time in Miinster, when I was cleaning up some gents' pockets, I ate some stuffed smoked ribs of pork just before I started." He rolled his eyes and smacked his lips.
"Well, if that's all you need," remarked Thomas Lieven calmly.
"You know the recipe?"
"I also worked in Germany at one time," Thomas said, banging on the door of the cell. "Stuffed smoked ribs of pork I can do for you. We can make this a German day for once. If so, I'd recommend that the first course should be Swabian dumpling soup and after the pork—h'm, let's see—yes, chestnuts and whipped cream ..."
The friendly warder named Juliao stuck his head through the doorway.
"Send me up the head chef," said Thomas, pressing a hundred-escudo note into Juliao's hand. "I want to fix up today's menu with him."
MENU
Swabian Soup with Liver (Dumplin&s
Westphalian Stuffed (Ribs of
Chestnuts and Whipped Cream ((Baden Style)
21 SEPTEMBER 1940
Good plain cooking. Best foundation for a daring coup.
Swabian Soup with Liver Dumplings
Beat a quarter of a cup of butter till creamy. Mix with one cup of finely chopped ox liver, three whole eggs, one soaked roll, one cup of bread crumbs. Season with marjoram, salt and pepper. Form small dumplings and place in boiling water for ten to fifteen minutes, till they rise to the top. Remove and drain. Serve in a strong beef broth.
Westphalian Stuffed Ribs of Pork
Take a large fresh piece of boned pork ribs. Peel, core and slice large cooking apples, mix with parboiled stoned plums, add a little grated lemon peel, a little rum and bread crumbs. This mixture is placed on the boned, salted and peppered meat, which is then rolled an4 the edges sewn up. The joint is then browned on all sides and after that slowly roasted in the oven. When cooked it is served with mashed potatoes.
Chestnuts and Whipped Cream (Baden Style)
Sound chestnuts are incised crosswise on the round side, placed on a baking sheet and put in a hot oven for a short time. This makes it easy to remove the shell. The chestnuts are then placed in boiling water until the inner skin can be removed. They are next placed in sweetened vanilla-flavored milk and cooked until soft. Then they are put through the
mincer direct onto the serving dish, covered with whipped cream and garnished with cherries soaked in cognac.
[4]
"Well, how do you like it? Good as that time in Mtinster?" inquired Thomas Lieven four hours later. He sat opposite the hunchback at a carefully laid table in his cell. Lazarus wiped his mouth and moaned in ecstasy. "Better, my boy, better! After ribs of pork like that I'd guarantee to pinch the brief case of our respected President Salazar himself!"
"The cook could have put a drop more rum in it."
"The bastards always drink it all themselves," said Lazarus. "I'd like to show my gratitude straight away for this meal, friend. So here beginneth the first lesson."
"That's nice of you, Lazarus. A little more puree?"
"Sure. Now look here. We're well-to-do. We've got the dough. So we don't have to rack our brains to get a decent meal. But what do you do if you're broke next time they nick you? The most important thing in the clink is to be well fed. And you will be if you're diabetic."
"But how do I get diabetes?"
"That's just what I'm now going to tell you," rejoined Lazarus, with his hamster cheeks full up. "First of all you keep on reporting sick to
the prison doctor. You simply say you never feel well. Watch for the chance and pinch one of his syringes. Next, get chummy with the cook. That won't be difficult in your case. Ask him to let you have a drop of vinegar to season your grub and then some sugar for your coffee."
"I see." Thomas banged on the door. The warder appeared. "Clear away, please," said Thomas. "And bring the last course."
Lazarus waited until Juliao had left the cell with their plates. Then he went on: "You mix vinegar and water in the proportion of one to two and sugar the solution well. Then you inject two cubic centimeters of it into your thigh."
"Intramuscularly?"
"Yes. But slowly, very slowly, mind. Or you'll get the devil's own swell-up."
"I see."
"You inject the stuff one and a half hours before you're due to see the doc. And be sure you don't piddle before then. Get me?"
"Sure."
Juliao the warder brought in the last course, was given a portion for himself and departed gleefully.
While they ate their chestnuts and cream Lazarus finished his lesson. "You tell the doc you were frightfully thirsty all night. He'll at once suspect you may have an excess of sugar and he'll ask you for a sample of urine. You'll have it all ready for him. On examining it he'll find that you really have a lot of sugar. So you'll be correspondingly well fed. Roast meat, butter, milk and white bread. Well worth the bit of trouble you've taken."
Such was the information Thomas obtained on the first day of his meeting with the hunchback. During the following days and weeks he added to it. He underwent a regular course of instruction in crime and how to make the best of prison. His brain registered with mathematical exactitude every tip and recipe he received.
For example: In order to produce in a short time the symptoms of a high fever, so as to be taken to the sick bay, from which it is so much easier to escape, work up an ordinary soap lather and swallow three teaspoonfuls of it an hour before medical examination. The result will be a bad headache and within an hour temperature will rise to about 41 degrees centigrade. But it will only last about an hour. For longer periods regular "pills" of soap will have to be swallowed. Again, for jaundice symptoms mix one teaspoonful of soot with two of sugar, add vinegar and leave the solution to stand overnight. Drink it next morning on an empty stomach. The symptoms will develop within two days at most.
Lazarus said: "This is a warlike age, you know, Jean. The time may well come one day when you will wish to avoid a hero's death. Need I say more?"
"You need not," said Thomas Lieven.
Those were happy weeks. Lazarus learned how to cook to perfection. Thomas learned how to simulate sickness to perfection. He also learned international thieves' slang and dozens of such confidence tricks as the White Waistcoat, the Loan-Gift, the Car Sale, the Diamond Business, Damages, the Suit to Measure, the Information Leak and the Breakdown Service.
He felt—heavens, how low he had sunk already!—that he might well need to resort to all these tricks at some future time or other. This expectation was to be proved one hundred per cent correct.
Thomas and Lazarus, each of them learner and teacher,
lived together in peace and harmony until the morning of that terrible, that appalling day, November 5, 1940 . ..
On the morning of November 5, 1940, Thomas Lieven was again, after a considerable interval, brought before the examining magistrate. This gentleman's name was Eduardo Baixa. He always dressed entirely in black and wore pince-nez on a black silk ribbon. A cultivated man, he always addressed Thomas in French. He did so that morning. "Now, monsieur, why do you keep me waiting so long for your confession?"
"I've nothing to confess. I'm innocent."
Baixa polished his glasses. "Tcha, tcha! Then it looks as if you'll be a good long time yet in Aljube, monsieur. We've circulated your description to all the police stations in Portugal. Now we shall have to wait."
"Wait for what?"
"For replies from all those stations, naturally. We don't know yet what other crimes you have committed in this country."
"I haven't committed any crimes at all. Fm innocent."
"Oh, dear, no, of course not . .. but just the same, M. Le-blanc, we shall have to wait. Moreover, you're a foreigner . . ." Baixa riffled through a file. "H'm, a most unusual sort of lady, I must say."
"To whom are you referring?"
"To the complainant, Senhora Rodrigues."
Thomas Lieven suddenly experienced a queer tingling along his backbone. His lips felt dry as he asked: "In what way unusual, your honor?"
"She hasn't turned up."
"I don't understand that statement."
"I asked her to come and see me. But she hasn't come."
"My God," Thomas exclaimed. "I hope nothing has happened to her!" That would be the last straw, he was thinking.
On returning to his cell he sent at once for Francesco, the fat cook.
The latter entered beaming. "What are your orders for today, Senhor Jean?"
Thomas shook his head. "It's not about cooking. I want you to do me a favor. Can you get away from the kitchen for an hour?"
"Certainly."
"Ask the management to give you some money from my deposit, buy twenty red roses and take a taxi to the address I have written here. A certain Senhora Estrella Rodrigues lives
there. I'm very worried about her. She may be ill. Ask for news of her and whether you can be of any assistance."
"Very good, Senhor Jean." The stout cook went out.
He returned a good hour later, looking distressed. When he entered the cell carrying a splendid bouquet of blood-red roses, Thomas knew at once that something frightful had happened.
"Senhora Rodrigues is away," said the cook.
Thomas plumped down on his cot.
"What do you mean by 'away'?" Lazarus demanded.
"I mean what I say, you idiot," the cook retorted. "Away. Out. Gone abroad. Disappeared. No longer there."
"Since when?" Thomas asked.
"Five days ago, Senhor Jean." The cook gazed at Thomas sympathetically, "I gathered that she didn't intend to come back, at least not for some time."
"Why do you think so?"
"All her clothes, jewelry and cash were gone."
"But she hadn't got any money!"
"Well, her safe was open ..."
"Her safe?" Thomas shuddered. "How did you come to see it?"
"The maid took me all over the house. Pretty little half-breed she was too, I give you my word! Tip-top! Wonderful eyes!" The cook accompanied his words with appropriate gestures.
"That's Carmen," Thomas murmured.
"Yes, Carmen's her name. We're going to the movies together this evening. She took me to the dressing room. All the cupboards were empty. And to the bedroom. The safe there was empty too ..."
Thomas groaned. "Quite empty, was it?"
"Yes, quite empty. A pretty little pair of black silk panties hung over the open steel door and that was all. .. . My God, Senhor Jean, aren't you feeling well? Water ... drink a little water ..."
"Better lie down quietly on your back," Lazarus advised.
Thomas sank back on his cot obediently. He mumbled: "All the money I had in the world was in that safe ..."
"Women. Always trouble with women," Lazarus growled fiercely. "And now we shan't get any lunch either!"
"But why?" Thomas whispered. "I can't make out why. I never did her any harm ... what did Carmen say? Does she know where the Senhora is?"
"Carmen said she had gone to Costa Rica."
"Good God Almighty," groaned Thomas.
"She also said that the villa would be sold."
Thomas suddenly started raving like a madman. "Don't keep shoving those blasted roses under my nose, confound you!" He pulled himself together. "Sorry, Lazarus. Pure nerves. And—and wasn't there any message for me? No letter? Nothing?"
"Yes, Senhor." The cook took a couple of envelopes out of his pocket. The first was from Thomas's friend, the Viennese ba
nker Walter Lindner.
Lisbon, 29 October 1940. Dear Herr Leblanc,
I write these lines in very great haste and much anxiety. It is now eleven o'clock. In two hours my boat leaves and I must go aboard. And still there is no sign of life from you! I can't think where on earth you have got to and I wonder whether you're still alive.
I only know what your unhappy friend the Consul has told me, that on the 9th September, after speaking to me on the telephone, you went out and never came back.
Poor Estrella Rodrigues! You have someone there who loves you from the bottom of her heart. How she grieved for you! How anxious she was about you! I have seen her daily since I succeeded in obtaining an overseas passage for myself and my wife. Every day we hoped to hear something about you, but in vain.
I write these lines in the villa of your, beautiful friend, who is in despair. She is standing beside me in tears. Even today—our last—there is no sign of life from you. But I still hope, as I write, that at least you are not dead and will one day return to this house and the woman who loves you so ardently. If that hope should be fulfilled, you will find my letter waiting for you.
I shall pray for you. Still hoping to see you again I remain
Yours most sincerely, Walter Lindner
That was the first letter.
Thomas let it fall. He was gasping for breath. His head had suddenly begun to ache as if it would burst.
Why didn't Estrella tell my friend where I am? Why didn't
she come here and fetch me away as arranged? Why has she behaved like this? Why? Why?
The second letter told him the answer.
Lisbon, 1 November 1940. Vile scoundrel!
Now that your friend Lindner has left Portugal there will be no one here to help you, and I mean to take my revenge.
You will never see me again. In a few hours I shall be traveling by air to Costa Rica.
Your friend has written you a letter. I shall put mine beside it. One day the examining magistrate will send someone to look for me. Then you will receive both letters.
In case, as is very probable, the magistrate reads both letters before passing them on to you, I declare for the second time that you have robbed me, you ruffian!
The Monte Cristo Cover-Up Page 18