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“Buying emeralds, rubies, opals. I am a jewelry designer. And you?”
He refilled her wine glass.
“A tourist on holiday. All the news of Burma opening up made me curious. I came to have a look around.”
“What kind of work do you do, I mean?”
“Private investigations.”
“A private eye in a toga? That must be your Italian half.”
H
e grinned, half-embarrassed by his state of undress.
“I wasn’t expecting a guest.”
“Don’t let me stop you from whatever you’re doing. I had this desire to stand on the balcony and see…”
She turned away, looking at the view.
“If you missed something by taking the other room.”
“I won’t turn around if you want to dress.”
“I do private investigations,” he said as he slipped into his clothes that he’d laid out on the bed.
“Are you on a working holiday?”
He zipped his pants and fastened his belt, leaving his polo shirt out. He sat on the bed and pulled on his socks. After he finished, he watched her long, firm legs, which the sunlight exposed through her thin dress. Why had she come to his room? Was she just passing the time? Why the interrogation about his reasons for being in Rangoon? He buttoned the bottom button of his polo shirt, thinking a woman like this who was in the jewelry business might be someone who could help find the Black Cat’s mother, who was in the same business.
“You can turn around,” he said.
She waited a few moments before turning away from the view.
“How was does the view compare with your room?”
“I like yours better,” she said.
“Do you have plans for the rest of the day,” she continued, “work or play?”
“I’m looking for a young musician. His father’s worried about him. He’s been missing for more than a week, but I think he’s somewhere in Rangoon.”
“It could take some time to find him,” she said.
He shrugged. “It could.”
“Meanwhile, if you want to see some sites, I could come along.”
The Italian woman who had invited herself to his room was now, after a glass of wine, making a play to become part of his holiday.
“You got off a twelve o’clock flight. You must be jetlagged.”
She walked in from the balcony.
“I am meeting my friend for dinner. Join us. Bring along your friend, the Colonel.”
She had a good memory for detail. Calvino figured it must be a required skill someone who appraised stones—examining each facet, looking for tiny flaws, remembering the color range.
