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Page 59
"Has the gentleman an appointment?" he said.
"No," I replied.
"Then the Herr will not receive the gentleman," came the answer, and the
man made as though to close the door.
I had an inspiration.
"A moment!" I cried, and I added the word "Achilles" in a low voice.
The servant opened the door wide to me.
"Why didn't you say that at once?" he said. "Please step in. I will see
if the Herr can receive you."
He led the way through a hall into a sitting-room and left me there. The
place was a perfect museum of art treasures, old Dutch and Italian
masters on the walls, some splendid Florentine chests, a fine old
dresser loaded with ancient pewter. On a mantelshelf was an
extraordinary collection of old keys, each with its label. "Key of the
fortress of Spandau, 1715." "Key of the Postern Gate of the Pasha's
Palace at Belgrade, 1810," "House Key from Nuremberg, 1567," were some
of the descriptions I read.
Then a voice behind me said:
"Ah! you admire my little treasures!"
Turning, I saw a short, stout man, of a marked Jewish appearance, with a
bald head, a fat nose, little beady eyes and a large waist.
"Eugen Kore!" he introduced himself with a bow.
"Meyer!" I replied, in the German fashion.
"And what can we do for Herr ... Meyer?" he asked in oily tones, pausing
just long enough before he pronounced the name I gave to let me see that
he believed it to be a pseudonym.
"I believe you know a friend of mine, whose address I am anxious to
find," I said.
"Ah!" sighed the little Jew, "a man of affairs like myself meets so many
people that he may be pardoned.... What did you say his name was, this
friend of yours?"
I thought I would try the effect of the name "Eichenholz" upon this
enigmatic creature.
"Eichenholz? Eichenholz?" Kore repeated.
"I seem to know the name ... it seems familiar ... now let me see
again.... Eichenholz, Eichenholz. ..."
While he was speaking he unlocked one of the oak cabinets and a safe
came to view. Opening this, he brought out a ledger and ran his finger
down the names. Then he shut the book, replaced it, locked the safe and
the cabinet, and turned to me again.
"Yes," he said, "I know the name."
His reticence was disconcerting.
"Can you tell me where I can find him?" I asked.
"Yes," was the reply.
I was getting a trifle nettled.
"Well, where?" I queried.
"This is all very well, young Sir," said the Jew. "You come in here from
nowhere, you introduce yourself as Meyer; you ask me 'Who?' and 'What?'
and 'Where?'--questions that, mark you, in my business, may have
valuable answers. We private enquiry agents must live, my dear sir, we
must eat and drink like other men, and these are hard times, very hard
times. I will ask you a question if I may. Meyer? Who is Meyer?
Everybody in this country is called Meyer!"
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