Отель «Гранд Вавилон» / The Grand Babylon hotel

’

A little later, the millionaire installed himself in the late owner’s private room and rang the bell.

�I want Jules,’ he said to the page.

While waiting for Jules, Racksole considered the question of Miss Spencer’s disappearance.

�Good morning, Jules,’ was his cheerful greeting, when the imperturbable waiter arrived.

�Good morning, sir.’

�Take a chair.’

�Thank you, sir.’

�We have met before this morning, Jules.’

�Yes, sir, at 3 a.m.’

�Rather strange about Miss Spencer’s departure, is it not?’ suggested Racksole.

�It is remarkable, sir.’

�You are aware, of course, that Mr Babylon has transferred all his interests in this hotel to me?’

�I have been informed to that effect, sir.’

�I suppose you know everything that goes on in the hotel, Jules?’

�As the head waiter, sir, it is my business to keep a general eye on things.’

�You speak very good English for a foreigner, Jules.’

�For a foreigner, sir! I am an Englishman, a Hertfordshire man born and bred.

Perhaps my name has misled you, sir. I am only called Jules because the head waiter of any really high-class hotel must have either a French or an Italian name.’

�I see,’ said Racksole. �I think you must be rather a clever person, Jules.’

�That is not for me to say, sir.’

�How long has the hotel enjoyed the advantage of your services?’

�A little over twenty years.’

�That is a long time to be in one place.

Don’t you think it’s time you got out of the rut? You are still young, and might make a reputation for yourself in another and wider sphere.’

Racksole looked at the man steadily, and his glance was steadily returned.

�You aren’t satisfied with me, sir?’

�To be frank, Jules, I think—I think you—er—wink too much. And I think that it is regrettable when a head waiter falls into a habit of taking white ribbons from the handles of bedroom doors at three in the morning.

’

Jules started slightly.

�I see how it is, sir. You wish me to go, and one pretext, if I may use the term, is as good as another. Very well, I can’t say that I’m surprised. It sometimes happens that there is incompatibility of temper between a hotel proprietor and his head waiter, and then, unless one of them goes, the hotel is likely to suffer. I will go, Mr Racksole. In fact, I had already thought of giving notice.