STREBINGER: Yes, if we only knew whose sheath it is, then we’d know who the spy is.
The pen-knife sheath is Redl’s
REDL (he sticks the knife into the sheath): Now where did I leave this thing lying around ... (He freezes suddenly, in a state of inner terror. He turns around and notices Steidl leafing through the hotel’s guest book.)
STREBINGER: Certainly, Herr Privy Councilor, I’ll request Colonel Redl to head up our investigation until the police commissioner and the other officials arrive.
REDL (leaves the hotel)
STREBINGER: Your obedient servant, Herr Privy Councilor. (He hangs up the phone, steps out of the phone booth, and says to Steidl): I’ve reported everything.
STEIDL: About the sheath, too?
STREBINGER: Sure, why?
STEIDL (to the Porter): Ring up 12-3-48 immediately and tell them that everything’s in order now, the pen-knife sheath belongs to Colonel Redl.
STREBINGER: What?!
STEIDL: Let’s go! (they both exit)
PORTER: Franz! The bills for numbers fifteen and sixteen!
CURTAIN
Operetta Music
ACT IV
“YOU’RE MY GOOD LUCK SMILING AT ME...”
(A semi-private dining alcove in Vienna’s Grand Hotel, the evening’s table is fully laid out. Conrad von Hötzendorf, Baroness Daubek, and another woman sit there, chatting; the place at the head of the table is open. Music is playing. Salvator enters. The other three jump to their feet. The ladies give him a humorous greeting: “Hofnix”17)
SALVATOR: So then, what’s up? It’s a real pig’s mess, I can’t be in two places at one time, and besides it’s all a waste of time. I’ll put it to you, Conrad, something you’ll find colossally interesting, the man’s coming out, the man from the opera ball ...
(The band’s leader and first violinist approaches them, bowing deeply)
SALVATOR: Jó estét kivánok, Rigo-báczi! Hogy van?* How does
* Hungarian for “Good evening, Uncle Rigo, how are you?”
that big hit from the latest operetta go? What’s it called?
BARONESS DAUBEK: The “Dream Waltz”?
SALVATOR: No, no, there’s a man’s name in the song’s title ...
BARONESS DAUBEK: “Orpheus in the Underworld”?
SALVATOR: No, it’s a nobleman’s title ...
BARONESS DAUBEK: “The Gypsy Baron”?
SALVATOR: No, no, it’s a higher title than that. A Count, I think.
Melodrama
ALL TOGETHER: “The Count of Luxembourg!”
SALVATOR: Right! You’ve all got the right picture now! (The violinist plays, and Salvator sings along): “You’re my good luck smiling at me, I’ve been floating in the air since time gone by ...” À propos floating in the air, your man’s been floating in the air right in front of you, jumping into a taxi, and two people are pressing their pants, and of course they couldn’t chase after him without their pants -- how would that look, them in their underpants — I beg your pardon, dear ladies — running around in the streets in their underpants? That looks like, well, it’s hideous.
BARONESS DAUBEK: What two people?
SALVATOR: Huh? The two detectives, you understand me, right, Conrad? The two detectives — à propos detectives, tell me, Conrad, and be straight with me about this, hands across your heart, in your opinion how many cars does a detective need?
CONRAD: That depends on circumstances, Imperial Highness.
SALVATOR: It doesn’t depend on any such thing, every detective should have a car, better yet two or more. That has to be enacted in the regulations at once, the Reichsrat can bite its tongue about it. I think that Sherlock Holmes had fifty or sixty cars at his disposal. You know, Sherlock Holmes must have been a very clever fellow, I think, (speaking softly now) — upon my soul, I believe that Sherlock Holmes is even more clever than Nick Carter —keep that between us. (speaking aloud again) Sherlock Holmes wouldn’t have let that fellow escape, that much I know for sure!
BARONESS DAUBEK: What fellow is that, Imperial Highness?
“What nice little thing are you bringing me”
SALVATOR: Well now, the fellow who betrayed our deployment plans for operation Operaball, who in 1913 betrayed the whole Operaball thing, and sold it to Russia ...
CONRAD (pricking up his ears for a second): What?
SALVATOR: Yes, my dear Conrad, like the first time I attended an opera ball, I was only a youngster at the time, a major in the Savoy Dragoons Regiment—do you know what ever became of the regimental doctor, Popper — he’s the one who treated my first case of—pardon me speaking about this, ladies——
BARONESS DAUBEK: Please, please, Imperial Highness.
SALVATOR: All right, all right, those really were golden days! (He dances and sings a little song.) “You’re my good luck smiling at me...”
(Umantizky enters, seemingly astonished by the dancing Salvator)
CONRAD (to Umanitzky): Greetings, Umanitzky, what nice little thing are you bringing me?
SALVATOR: Greetings, Umanitzky, are you bringing me something nice too? Come on, sit down with us, grab a glass of wine and get something to eat.
UMANITZKY: May I respectfully request a moment with you, Excellency?
CONRAD: Do you have to, right now?
SALVATOR: Now, in the middle of the night, when everybody’s asleep?
Umanitzky delivers his report
CONRAD: Is it really that important?
UMANITZKY: Indeed it is, Excellency.
CONRAD: Well then, there’s nothing but to do it. (He gets up.) So where do we go now?
UMANITZKY: We can retire over here for just a moment. (The ladies leave. The door is closed. The music goes on, muted.)
CONRAD: So now, what’s the matter?
UMANITZKY: His Imperial Highness will have already told your Excellency that the letters have been picked up.
CONRAD: What letters?
UMANITZKY: The two spy’s letters with money in them, the ones with the code-name “Operaball 13” on them that have been lying around at the post office.
CONRAD: What? I don’t know anything about it.
SALVATOR: Of course you do. Well, if only you listened to me when I’m speaking! I already asked you about the cars—on account of Sherlock Holmes!
CONRAD (to Umanitzky): What’s this thing really about? Quickly!
UMANITZKY: At five-thirty today the letters were picked up by a man. Before the detectives could grab him, he’d jumped into a car and was driven off. He was followed to the Hotel Klomser, and after he left the hotel, he was tailed on the street. He saw he was under surveillance, so he tore up some papers while he was in a
Who? What? Have you lost your mind?
passageway—he was hoping to slow down the agents following him while they picked up the pieces, while that was going on he could get into a car and make his escape. In spite of all that they