“A moment later Helen appeared, to my relief, and she translated us into the dining room, with its glossy white cloths and ugly china. Aunt Éva ordered for all of us, as before, and I sat back, tired, while they spoke together for a few minutes. They seemed at first to be exchanging affectionate jokes, but soon Éva’s face clouded and I saw her pick up her fork and twirl it somberly between thumb and forefinger. Then she whispered something to Helen that made Helen’s brow knit, too.
“‘What’s wrong?’ I asked uneasily. I had already had my fill of secrets and mysteries.
“‘My aunt has made a discovery.’ Helen lowered her voice, although few of the diners around us could have known English. ‘Something that may be unpleasant for us.’
“‘What?’
“Éva nodded and spoke again, again very quietly, and Helen’s brow furrowed deep. ‘This is bad,’ she said in a whisper. ‘My aunt has been questioned about you-about us. She told me she received a visit this afternoon from a police detective whom she has known for a long time. He apologized and said it was only their routine, but he interrogated her about your presence in Hungary, your interests, and our-our relationship. My aunt is very clever in these matters, and when she questioned him in return, he managed to reveal that he had been-how do you say?-put on the case by Géza József.’ Her voice dropped to an almost inaudible murmur.
“‘Géza!’ I stared at her.
“‘I told you he is a nuisance. He tried to question me at the conference, too, but I ignored him. Apparently that made him angrier than I had guessed.’ She paused. ‘My aunt says he is a member of the secret police and can be quite dangerous to us. They do not like the liberal reforms of the government and are trying to keep the old ways.’
“Something in her tone made me ask, ‘Did you already know this? What his position is?’
“She nodded guiltily. ‘I’ll tell you about it later.’
“I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to know, but the idea of our being pursued by the handsome giant was certainly distasteful to me. ‘What does he want?’
“‘He apparently feels you are involved in more than historical research. He believes you have come here looking for something else.’
“‘He’s right,’ I pointed out in a low voice.
“‘He is determined to find out what it is. I am sure he knows where we went today-I hope he will not question my mother, too. My aunt turned the detective away from the-the scent as well as she could, but now she is worried.’
“‘Does your aunt know what-whom-I’m looking for?’
“Helen was silent for a moment, and when she raised her eyes there was something like a plea in them.
“‘Yes. I thought she might be able to help us somehow.’
“‘Does she have any advice?’
“‘She only says it’s a good thing we are leaving Hungary tomorrow. She warned us not to talk with any strangers as we depart.’
“‘Of course,’ I said angrily. ‘Maybe József would like to study Dracula documents with us at the airport.’
“‘Please.’ Her voice was a bare whisper. ‘Don’t joke about this, Paul. It can be very serious. If I ever want to return here -’
“I subsided into a shamed silence. I hadn’t meant it as a joke, only as an expression of exasperation. The waiter was bringing dessert-pastries and coffee that Aunt Éva urged on us with motherly concern, as if by fattening us a little she could guard us from the world’s evils. While we ate, Helen told her aunt about Rossi’s letters, and Éva nodded slowly, attentive, but said nothing. When our cups were empty, she turned deliberately to me, and Helen translated with downcast eyes.
“‘My dear young man,’ Éva said, pressing my hand just as her sister had done earlier in the day. ‘I do not know if we will ever see each other again, but it is my hope that we will. In the meantime, look after my beloved niece, or at least let her look after you’-she gave Helen a sly glance, which Helen apparently pretended not to see-‘and be certain that you both return safely to your studies. Helen has told me about your mission, and it is a worthy one, but if you do not accomplish it soon, you must return home with the knowledge that you did everything that you could. Then you must go on with your life, my friend, because you are young and it is in front of you.’ She patted her lips with her napkin and rose. At the door to the hotel she silently embraced Helen and leaned forward to kiss me on each cheek. She was grave, and no tears glistened in her eyes, but I saw on her face a deep, still sorrow. The elegant car was waiting. My last glimpse of her was her sober wave from its back window.
“For a few seconds, Helen seemed unable to speak. She turned toward me, turned away. Then she rallied and looked at me decisively. ‘Come, Paul. This is our final hour of freedom in Budapest. Tomorrow we will have to hurry to the airport. I want to go for a walk.’
“‘A walk?’ I said. ‘What about the secret police and their interest in me?’
“‘They want to know what you know, not to stab you in a dark alley. And don’t be vain,’ she said, smiling. ‘They are just as interested in me as in you. We will stay in well-lit places, along the main street, but I wish you to see the city one more time.’
“I was glad enough to do this, knowing it might be my last view of it in a lifetime, and we went out again into the balmy night. We wandered toward the river, staying, as Helen had promised, on the main thoroughfares. At the great bridge we paused, and then she strolled onto it, running one hand thoughtfully along the railings. Above the vast water we paused again, looking back and forth at the two sides of Budapest, and I felt again its majesty and the explosion of war that had nearly destroyed it. The lights of the city shone everywhere, quivering in the black surface of the water. Helen stood for a while at the railing, then turned, as if reluctantly, to walk back toward Pest. She had taken off her jacket, and when she turned I saw a jagged shape on the back of her blouse. Leaning closer, I suddenly realized it was an enormous spider. It had spun a web all the way across her back; I could clearly see the glinting filaments. I remembered then that I’d seen cobwebs all along the bridge railing, where she’d been running her hand. ‘Helen,’ I said softly. ‘Don’t get upset-there’s something on your back.’
“‘What?’ She froze.
“‘I’m going to brush it off,’ I said gently. ‘It’s just a spider.’
“A shudder went through her, but she stood obediently motionless while I flicked the creature off her back. I admit that it gave me a shudder, too, because the spider was the largest I’d ever seen, almost half the width of my hand. It hit the railing next to us with an audible thwack and Helen screamed. I’d never heard her express fear before, and that little scream made me suddenly want to grab her and shake her, even hit her. ‘It’s all right,’ I said quickly, taking her by the arm, trying to stay calm. To my surprise, she gave a sob or two before she could steady herself. It astonished me that a woman who could shoot at vampires was so shaken by a spider, but this had been a long day and a strained one. She surprised me again by turning to look at the river and saying in a low voice, ‘I promised I would tell you about Géza.’
“‘You don’t have to tell me anything.’ I hoped I didn’t sound irritable.
“‘I don’t want to lie by silence.’ She walked a few feet away, as if to leave the spider completely behind, although it had vanished, probably into the Danube. ‘When I was a university student, I was in love with him for a little while, or thought I was, and in return he helped my aunt to get me my fellowship and passport to leave Hungary.’
“I recoiled, staring at her.
“‘Oh, it wasn’t so crude,’ she said. ‘He did not say, ”You sleep with me and then you can go to England.“ He is actually rather subtle. He did not get everything he wanted from me, either. But by the time I was no longer charmed with him, I had my passport in my hand. That was how it happened, and when I realized it, I already had a ticket to freedom, to the West, and I was not willing to give it up. And I thought it was worth it to find my father. So I played along with Géza until I could escape to London, and then I left him a letter breaking my ties with him. I wanted to be honest about that, at least. He must have been very angry, but he never wrote me.’