Bamboo and blood

Chapter Two

Coppet was quiet and dark. A figure in a beret and a belted coat came out of a doorway and fell into step with me. "Lonely?"

It was M. Beret. I couldn't see his face, but the voice, even with just that one word, was unmistakable.

"No, not if you're not," I said. I kept walking.

"It would be better if you stayed in your plain little hotel, don't you think? Things can happen to people at this hour, even in Switzerland."

"I felt restless, that's all. Against one of your tidy laws?"

Another man came out from a darkened doorway, turned suddenly, and walked quickly away.

"Friend of yours?" M. Beret stopped and pulled a small pistol from his pocket. Then he spoke softly into a tiny radio. I stopped, too, and looked for a convenient place to hide if someone started shooting. Whatever this was, it wasn't my fight, not as far as I knew. "You'll remember"-M. Beret sounded somewhat annoyed-"I said that you'd be like a flower attracting bees. Well, that was a bee. You should stay off the phone; too many people on the other end."

"I wasn't on the phone, but I'll bear it in mind. You wouldn't know any bars around here, would you? Now I'm not so restless, but I'm getting thirsty. Walking at night does that to me."

"Are you kidding? Nothing is open at this hour. Your brother isn't here, if that's who you're looking for."

I digested this.

"He had too much to drink at dinner, and his friends carried him back to his hotel on Rue Puits-St-Pierre. Not a very friendly man, your brother. He seems to think highly of himself, though; keeps his clothes clean and pressed." M. Beret stared at my shoes, which were well worn. "He's staying in a pretty nice place, not like the cracker box you're in." We had resumed walking, with less of a sense of urgency. M. Beret looked at me sideways. "You mad because I'm criticizing a family member?"

"I'm just thirsty."

"I suggest you try the bottled water in your hotel. That's all my budget will support tonight."