Herr Koch led the way into the flat that had been Harry's (герр Кох указал путь в квартиру, которая когда-то была квартирой Гарри;
The living room was completely bare (гостиная была совершенно пустой;
ticket ['tIkIt], except [Ik'sept], precise [prI'saIz], medical ['medIk(q)l], authority [O:'TOrItI], property ['prOpqtI], indicate ['IndIkeIt], occupy ['OkjupaI], occupation ["Okju'peIS(q)n]
No evidence, Martins thought, no evidence! He no longer doubted that murder had been done. Why else had they lied about the moment of death? They wanted to quieten with their gifts of money and their plane ticket the only two friends Harry had in Vienna. And the third man? Who was he?
He said, "Did you see Herr Lime go out?"
"No."
"Did you hear a scream?"
"Only the brakes, Herr Martins."
It occurred to Martins that there was nothing—except the word of Kurtz and Cooler and the driver—to prove that in fact Harry had been killed at that precise moment. There was the medical evidence, but that could not prove more than that he had died say within a half hour, and in any case the medical evidence was only as strong as Dr. Winkler's word: that clean controlled man creaking among his crucifixes.
"Herr Martins, it just occurs to me—you are staying in Vienna?"
"Yes."
"If you need accommodation and spoke to the authorities quickly, you might secure Herr Lime's flat. It is a requisitioned property."
"Who has the keys?"
"I have them."
"Could I see the flat?"
"Ilse, the keys."
Herr Koch led the way into the flat that had been Harry's. In the little dark hall there was still the smell of cigarette smoke—the Turkish cigarettes that Harry always smoked. It seemed odd that a man's smell should cling in the folds of curtains so long after the man himself had become dead matter, a gas, a decay. One light, in a heavily beaded shade, left them in semi-darkness, fumbling for door handles.
The living room was completely bare—it seemed to Martins too bare. The chairs had been pushed up against the walls: the desk at which Harry must have written was free from dust or any papers. The parquet reflected the light like a mirror. Herr Koch opened a door and showed the bedroom: the bed neatly made with clean sheets. In the bathroom not even a used razor blade indicated that a few days ago a living man had occupied it. Only the dark hall and the cigarette smell gave a sense of occupation.