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Page 14
Whatever I was going to do, there were not many hours of the night left
in which to act, and I was determined to be out of that house of ill
omen before day dawned. If I could get clear of the hotel and at the
same time ascertain that Semlin was as much a stranger there as myself,
I could decide on my further course of action in the greater freedom of
the streets of Rotterdam. One thing was certain: the waiter had let the
question of Semlin's papers stand over until the morning, as he had done
in my case, for Semlin still had his passport in his possession.
After all, if Semlin was unknown at the hotel, the waiter had only seen
him for the same brief moment as he had seen me.
Thus I reasoned and argued with myself, but in the meantime I acted. I
had nothing compromising in my suit-case, so that caused no difficulty.
My British passport and permit and anything bearing any relation to my
personality, such as my watch and cigarette case, both of which were
engraved with my initials, I transferred to the dead man's pockets. As I
bent over the stiff, cold figure with its livid face and clutching
fingers, I felt a difficulty which I had hitherto resolutely shirked
forcing itself squarely into the forefront of my mind.
What was I going to do about the body?
At that moment came a low knocking.
With a sudden sinking at the heart I remembered I had forgotten to lock
the door.
CHAPTER V
THE LADY OF THE VOS IN'T TUINTJE
Here was Destiny knocking at the door. In that instant my mind was made
up. For the moment, at any rate, I had every card in my hands. I would
bluff these stodgy Huns: I would brazen it out: I would be Semlin and go
through with it to the bitter end, aye, and if it took me to the very
gates of Hell.
The knocking was repeated.
"May one come in?" said a woman's voice in German.
I stepped across the corpse and opened the door a foot or so.
There stood a woman with a lamp. She was a middle-aged woman with an
egg-shaped face, fat and white and puffy, and pale, crafty eyes. She was
in her outdoor clothes, with an enormous vulgar-looking hat and an
old-fashioned sealskin cape with a high collar. The cape which was
glistening with rain was half open, and displayed a vast bosom tightly
compressed into a white silk blouse. In one hand she carried an oil
lamp.
"Frau Schratt," she said by way of introduction, and raised the lamp to
look more closely at me.
Then I saw her face change. She was looking past me into the room, and I
knew that the lamplight was falling full upon the ghastly thing that lay
upon the floor.
I realized the woman was about to scream, so I seized her by the wrist.
She had disgusting hands, fat and podgy and covered with rings.
"Quiet!" I whispered fiercely in her ear, never relaxing my grip on her
wrist. "You will be quiet and come in here, do you understand?"
She sought to shrink from me, but I held her fast and drew her into the
room.
She stood motionless with her lamp, at the head of the corpse. She
seemed to have regained her self-possession. The woman was no longer
frightened. I felt instinctively that her fears had been all for
herself, not for that livid horror sprawling on the floor. When she
spoke her manner was almost business-like.
"I was told nothing of this," she said. "Who is it? What do you want me
to do?"
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