The Tooth Tattoo(110)

‘I do. We’ve played it and Ivan likes to give a special emphasis to each note.’

‘It works a treat, doesn’t it? Anyway, this lady was spot on with her comments. She charmed us all. While I was packing up she said – just to me – that she was staying at our hotel and would like to talk music if I wasn’t too exhausted. I knew from the look in her eyes that there was more on offer than conversation.’

As a self-confessed soft touch for the ladies, Mel sympathised.

‘I suggested we have a drink back in the hotel, but warned her I was tired and couldn’t stay long. As hotel bars go, this one was okay, with a fountain and some nice lighting. The others were in there with our manager Doug having a nightcap a few seats away. When you’re on tour it’s just about impossible to make a move without everyone knowing.’

‘You have to be thick-skinned.’

Harry grinned. ‘Speaking from experience? Anyway, believe it or not, when she came to my room we continued to talk music intelligently for a bit, about the Debussy, that fantastic passage near the end of the first movement when second violin and viola play together. She’d noticed how Anthony was leading because he had the upper voice and she appreciated how I was reacting to him. A musician’s observation. It brought us closer together and the sex, when it came, was all the more satisfying because of it. This wasn’t “Bang-bang, thank you, ma’am” as I’d rather expected. Afterwards I offered her a drink from the mini-bar and we talked about my touring. And since she was Japanese, it seemed natural to mention the netsuke and show her some samples from my suitcase.’

‘She appreciated them?’

‘God, yes. She almost had another orgasm. She said the carving was the best she’d ever seen, and she may have been telling the truth, because my guy in Vladivostok was a genius in his way. I could tell she would have loved to own one. I don’t know if it was the champagne or the nice things she’d said about my playing, but in a rush of generosity I offered her one as a memento of the evening. She was thrilled. Yes, it was a valuable gift, but I told myself I could have lost three times as much in one session at the poker table. So it was a happy evening. She left my room some time after midnight and I slept well.’

Mel had listened to all this with mounting concern. He knew the police were investigating the murder of a young Japanese woman in Vienna at the time the Staccati had been performing there four years ago. She’d been dumped in the canal. If Harry had slept with her, he had to be the prime suspect. Why was he admitting so much unless it was to shift the blame elsewhere?

There was more. ‘Our next concert was in Budapest and we moved on the next day. I gave no more thought to Emi, my Japanese fan. We were flat out rehearsing a new programme. I barely found time to do my rounds of the shops that sold ivory objects. A pity I did, because when I got to one of the last I was invited into the back room. This was normal for doing business. But the way I was treated certainly was not. I was grabbed from behind, thrown to the ground and held there. I thought I was being mugged by at least two strong men. I had quite an amount of cash in my wallet and there were still a few unsold netsuke in the case I carried. You’re outnumbered, I thought. Best not to fight. So I lay still. Next I felt my jacket being grabbed off my shoulder and my shirt ripped open to expose my arm. Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a syringe poised to inject me with something and that’s all I remember until I regained consciousness in total darkness doubled in a foetal position with my hands cuffed behind me. From the bumping I was getting and the engine noise I guessed I was imprisoned in a car-boot.’

‘Incredible,’ Mel said.

‘Well, it happened to me, I promise you. I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious or what this was about. I thought of the concert we were supposed to be giving and my precious Maggini back in the hotel. It was a nightmare. Hours went by, or so it seemed, before we stopped. The boot opened and two young Japanese guys were looking down at me. One had a bottle of water and a straw and I was allowed to sit up and take some liquid. I tried asking questions, but there was no communication. He shoved me down again, slammed the lid and I was left for a while, I suppose while they were eating. More hours of driving followed. I had no way of telling where we were headed.’

If this is an invented alibi, it’s an elaborate one, Mel was thinking. ‘So where did you end up?’

‘No idea,’ Harry said. ‘When I was finally allowed out of that bloody car-boot, I was blindfolded, taken into a building and thrown into a cellar. It could have been anywhere. I was given the basics, bucket, water and some kind of bread.’