“Me and who else? Him?” I indicated Schmidt.

Jan shook his head. “No. Of course, your superior would be in your confidence. I did not blame you for that.”

“Ha,” said Schmidt, giving me a meaningful look.

“But when I saw Dieter enter the museum, and then Tony came, all the way from America, I knew all of you were together, against me. The Western capitalist oppressors—”

“That is a flat-out lie,” I said indignantly.

“Yes? But they are here now, and also Elise and the Herr Direktor. For what have you come if it is not to steal the treasure from me?”

Schmidt emitted one of his fat, rich chuckles. “It has a suspicious look, Vicky. Admit it.”

“Well…I suppose if someone has a strong streak of paranoia to begin with…”

Schmidt’s open amusement went farther than my righteous indignation to convince Jan. He looked uncertainly from Schmidt to me.

“Are you telling me it is only a coincidence that you have met here? That you are not—”

“Conspiring? Hell, no, we aren’t even cooperating! Nobody has the faintest idea of what anybody else is doing. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

Jan studied me solemnly. Then his lips parted and stretched into one of his rare smiles. The effect was dazzling. “I am inclined to believe you.”

“How very condescending.”

“But, Vicky, you are the one I would have expected to be best informed. You knew the old man best; it was to you he talked, sent flowers—”

“You make it sound like some sort of November-June romance,” I snapped. “We did talk. But he never mentioned the gold, Jan. Believe it or not.”

“I do believe it. Because if he had told you then, you would not be here now.” Jan leaned back in his chair and put his fingertips together pyramid-style, like Holmes getting ready to enlighten poor thick-headed Watson. His smile continued to dazzle, but his eyes were as hard and opaque as brown pebbles. “I will tell you what else I believe,” he went on. “I believe you were all summoned here, as I was summoned. That Hoffman intended to divulge to us the secret he had guarded for so many years. We are in a sense an international committee, representing some of the world’s great museums, and he knew us personally. But Hoffman’s death frustrated his intention. So now we are assembled, as he wished us to be, and the treasure is still missing. You don’t know where it is either. I have observed you, all of you. Your actions have been as aimless and undirected as my own.”

“Humph,” Schmidt grunted. “He is no fool, this one.”

I was forced to agree. Jan’s theory was one that had not occurred to me—nor to the great John Smythe. It left a few minor odds and ends unaccounted for—like the frozen corpse in the back yard—but it had merit.

However, I was not moved to take Jan into my confidence and clasp him to my bosom (tempting as that idea might be). For once I didn’t have to warn Schmidt to avoid the same error. His little blue eyes narrowed to slits, and he rumbled, “Yes, he is no fool. Watch out, Vicky. Next he will suggest we puddle our information—”