Laughter in the Dark by Vladimir Nabokov, John Banville Read Free Book Online

head.
    He lurched toward her, his arms open, but she bounded past him with a chirrup of glee and bolted out of the room. He made a belated dash after her. Margot slammed the door and, panting and laughing, turned the key from outside. (Oh, how the poor fat woman had banged and thumped and yelled!)
    “Margot, open at once,” said Albinus softly.
    He heard her footsteps dancing away.
    “Open,” he repeated in a louder voice.
    Silence.
    “The little vixen,” he thought, “what an absurd situation!”
    He was frightened. He was hot. He was not used to bouncing about rooms. He was in an agony of thwarted desire. Had she really gone? No, someone was walking about the flat. He tried some keys he had in his pocket; then, losing his temper, shook the door violently.
    “Open at once. Do you hear?”
    The footsteps drew near. It was not Margot.
    “Hullo. What’s the matter?” asked an unexpected voice—Paul’s! “Are you locked in? Shall I let you out?”
    The door opened. Paul looked alarmed. “What has happened, old man?” he repeated and gaped at the hairbrush lying on the floor.
    “Oh, a ridiculous thing … Tell you in a moment … Let’s have a glass of something.”
    “You gave me the devil of a shock,” said Paul. “I could not think what on earth had happened. Lucky I came along. Elisabeth told me she’d be home about six. Lucky I was rather early. Who locked you in? Not your maid gone mad, I hope?”
    Albinus stood with his back to him and busied himself with the brandy.
    “Didn’t you meet anybody on the stairs?” he asked, trying to speak distinctly.
    “I took the lift,” said Paul.
    “Saved,” thought Albinus, his spirits reviving considerably. (But how dangerously foolish to have forgotten that Paul, too, had a key to the flat!)
    “Would you believe it,” he said, as he sipped the brandy, “a burglar broke in. Don’t tell Elisabeth, of course. Thought there was no one at home, I expect. Suddenly I heard the front door behaving oddly. I came out of my study to see what it was clicking—and there was a man slipping into the bedroom. I followed him and tried to grab him, but he sort of doubled back and lockedme in. It’s a great pity he escaped. I thought you might have met him.”
    “You’re joking,” said Paul aghast.
    “No, not at all. I was in my study and heard the front door clicking. So I went to see what it was and …”
    “But he may have stolen something, let’s look. And we must inform the police.”
    “Oh, he hadn’t time,” said Albinus, “it all happened in a second; I scared him away.”
    “What did he look like?”
    “Oh, just a man with a cap. A largish man. Very strong-looking.”
    “He could have hurt you! What a very unpleasant experience. Come on, we must have a look round.”
    They went through the rooms. Examined locks. Everything was in order. It was only at the end of their investigations, as they were walking through the library, that suddenly a pang of horror shot through Albinus: there, in a corner between the shelves, just behind a revolving bookstand, the edge of a bright red frock was showing. By some miracle Paul did not see it, although he was nosing about conscientiously. There was a collection of miniatures in the next room and he pored over the inclined glass.
    “That’s enough, Paul,” said Albinus huskily.“There is no point in going on. It’s quite clear he hasn’t taken anything.”
    “How shaken you look,” exclaimed Paul, as they returned to the study. “My poor chap! Look here, you must have your lock changed, or always keep the door bolted. And what about the police? Would you like me to—”
    “Ssh,” hissed Albinus.
    Voices drew near and Elisabeth came in, followed by Irma, her nurse and one of her little friends—a fat child who, in spite of her shy stolid expression, could be most boisterous. Albinus felt as if it were all a nightmare. Margot’s presence in the house was monstrous, unbearable … The maid