Chapter XX
THE Colonel stopped at the reception desk in the lobby, but the concierge was not there yet. There was only the night porter.
“Can you put something in the safe for me?”
“No, my Colonel. No one may open the safe until the assistant manager or the concierge arrives. But I will guard anything for you that you wish.”
“Thank you. It’s not worth the trouble,” and he buttoned the Gritti envelope, with the stones inside, the envelope addressed to himself, into the inside left pocket of his tunic.
“There’s no real crime here now,” the night porter said.
It had been a long night and he was happy to speak to someone. “There never really was, my Colonel. There are only differences of opinion and politics.”
“What do you have for politics?” the Colonel asked; for he was lonely too.
