M ET R0 POL E HOTEL
187
instrument that went, unexpectedly, through to another series of holes.
Strange sounds began to be heard, and when the coffin was broken
open there was a trunk inside the coffin and a Russian girl in what–
ever form
of
hysteria you get from being in a trunk that
is
in a cof–
fin. The investigation
,turned
up the news that the trunk belonged
to one of the fur buyers and
SO
did the girl. The girl was released,
returned to Moscow, and no further action was taken. That seemed
odd because the Russians are very severe about exit
visas,
but when
I asked my British friend why, he shrugged and said, "Maybe they
are giving everybody enough rope. They don't like the embassy
Swedes, but they can't seem to get anything on them."
"But what about the fur buyer who shipped her?"
He said,
"I
don't know. He says he didn't ship her. He says she
stole his trunk and made her own coffin."
Last month came the good news of our naval victory in the
Philippines. But on the third floor of the Metropole the news
got
mixed up: the japanese radio announced it as a victory for
their
navy and so the Japanese military attaches decided to celebrate with
a refined, small party, where, according to the Russian tenor, tidbits
were served,
classical
music came from the phonograph and the
guests were in their own
beds
quite early. But the Japanese chauf–
feur, in
his
cubicle, only got going about three in the morning with
the noise of crashing glass and muffled female sounds. A half hour
was not enough to worry his corridor mates of the Metropole, but
when the female sounds became screams of fear, a few of the more
humane rose from their beds. Sleepy, annoyed figures gathered in
the hall. Out came the Turks, out the Mongols, out the ex-mistress
of the Uzbeks, out the tenor and
his
children, out, even, the fur
buyers to the
edge
of
the gathering. Although the screams were now
steady and agonized, the observers seemed reluctant to move. A
reason was found that had not before occurred in the tolerant inter–
national life of the hotel: nobody wanted to mix
himself
into the
affairs of a country at war with the United States, particularly since
it
had now been firmly established that
it
was our naval victory and
not the Japanese. But a solution was finally reached: one of the
Turks - a neutral- would not go directly to the chauffeur's room,
but agreed to knock at the door of the strangely absent Japanese
