Free Little Apple by Leo Perutz Page A

her."
    "Tell me something," said Vit¬torin. "You stayed on for a while at Emperger's the other night. Was any more said about the matter?"
    "You bet. They all poked fun at you." Kohout shifted from foot to foot and wrung his hands. "That knucklehead Emperger claimed you'd become infatuated with a Russian officer - those were his very words. The Professor said you were going to Russia to increase the sum of human suffering - you know what he's like, always trying to impress people with his philosophical turns of phrase. As for Feuerstein, he called the whole idea plain stupid."
    Vit¬torin chewed his lip and stared into space.
    "A thing can be stupid and necessary just the same," he said.
    "Of course," said Kohout. "Have you got the money?"
    "Yes, six hundred kronen."
    "You must change them into dollars right away. Your best bet is to go to the Café Élite, buttonhole one of the foreign exchange racketeers in the back room, and say you want some American noodles - that's their slang term for dollar bills. Mind you don't pick a con artist, though - perhaps I'd better go with you. As for a Russian visa, you won't get one through normal channels, I've made careful inquiries. The Russian Red Cross mission in Vienna issues visas, but they can take months to come through. We'll have to handle this another way, and I know how: Galatz — that's where you're going."
    "Galatz? Won't I need a Rumanian visa?"
    "Yes, the Rumanian military mission will issue you with one. That won't be easy either, but money talks. Getting across the Russian border will be no problem once you're in Galatz. You can go on foot, by road, or, if you really want to play it safe, there are passport factories all over Rumania-Braila, Focshani, Bottoshani, Galatz itself. It'll cost you two hundred kronen - a tidy sum, admittedly, but you'll have to allow for that. Herr Eiermann's problem is far simpler. He only wants to go to the Tyrol, not Russia."
    "Herr Eiermann?" said Vit¬torin. "You mean he's also after an entry permit?"
    "Of course, didn't you hoist that in? The provincial authorities in the Tyrol won't let anyone domiciled in Galicia across the border. Herr Eiermann has urgent business in Innsbruck, so what does he do? He gets us to sue him in the local district court for non-payment of some trivial sum - fourteen kronen or whatever - and produces his summons at the checkpoint. All in order, nothing to be done. They have to let him across."
    Vit¬torin was horrified.
    "And that's the sort of sharp practice you engage in here?" '
    "My dear fellow, what do you expect? Transactions like these are relatively kosher. People come to us with the most outrageous requests and proposals, you've no idea! I sometimes wonder why I ever studied law for four terms - a course in picking pockets would have been more to the point, but never mind, I ought to be grateful that Eichkatz took me on. I wouldn't find another job too easily, not with this arm of mine. As for home . . . My father's remarried and I don't get on with my stepmother - she makes some spiteful remark every time she puts a bite of food in front of me. If only I could go back to university and get my degree, but no: I've got to earn, earn, earn! Isn't it enough to turn you into a Bolshevik, the lousy, rotten, putrid society we're living in today?"
    Vit¬torin rose. "You ought to come to Russia with me," he said.
    "Yes," said Kohout, "I'd thought of that too."
    On Kohout's advice Vit¬torin sold everything of value he possessed: his bicycle, two gold rings, the classics and deluxe editions in his bookcase, the Goertz binoculars he'd bought before the war and paid for by monthly instalments, a Kodak camera, a walking stick with an ivory handle, a tie-pin set with two small sapphires - a birthday present from his father - and, last but not least, a Domb oboe and a pair of Halifax skates. His sisters failed to notice the gradual disappearance of these articles, the proceeds of which, added to his existing nest