Destination Unknown - Agatha Christie [65]
‘We shall get there,’ said Jessop obstinately. ‘I wonder–’
‘Yes?’
‘We have assumed they are going North–towards the Mediterranean. Suppose instead, they flew South.’
‘Doubled back on their tracks? But where, then, could they be flying to? There are the Mountains of the High Atlas–and after that the desert sands.’
II
‘Sidi, you swear to me that it will be as you have promised? A petrol station in America, in Chicago? It is certain?’
‘It is certain, Mohammed, if we get out of here, that is.’
‘Success depends on the will of Allah.’
‘Let us hope, then, that it is the will of Allah that you should have a petrol station in Chicago. Why Chicago?’
‘Sidi, the brother of my wife went to America, and he has there a petrol pump in Chicago. Do I want to remain in a backward part of the world all my days? Here there is money and much food and many rugs and women–but it is not modern. It is not America.’
Peters looked thoughtfully into the dignified black face. Mohammed in his white robes was a magnificent sight. What strange desires rose in the human heart.
‘I don’t know that you’re wise,’ he said with a sigh, ‘but so be it. Of course, if we are found out–’
A smile on the black face revealed beautiful white teeth.
‘Then it is death–for me certainly. Perhaps not for you, Sidi, since you are valuable.’
‘They deal out death rather easily here, do they?’
The shoulders of the other man rose and fell contemptuously.
‘What is death? That, too, is the will of Allah!’
‘You know what you have to do?’
‘I know, Sidi. I am to take you to the roof after dark. Also I am to put in your room clothing such as I and the other servants wear. Later–there will be other things.’
‘Right. You’d better let me out of the lift now. Somebody may notice we’re riding up and down. It may give them ideas.’
III
There was dancing going on. Andy Peters was dancing with Miss Jennson. He held her close to him, and seemed to be murmuring in her ear. As they revolved slowly near where Hilary was standing he caught her eye and immediately gave her an outrageous wink.
Hilary, biting her lip to avoid a smile, averted her eyes quickly.
Her glance fell on Betterton who was standing just across the room talking to Torquil Ericsson. Hilary frowned a little as she watched them.
‘Have a turn with me, Olive?’ said Murchison’s voice at her elbow.
‘Yes, of course, Simon.’
‘Mind you, I’m not very hot at dancing,’ he warned her.
Hilary concentrated on keeping her feet where he could not possibly tread on them.
‘It’s exercise, that’s what I say,’ said Murchison, panting slightly. He was an energetic dancer.
‘Awfully jolly frock you’ve got on, Olive.’
His conversation seemed always to come out of an old-fashioned novel.
‘I’m glad you like it,’ said Hilary.
‘Get it out of the Fashion Department?’
Resisting the temptation to reply: ‘Where else?’ Hilary merely said, ‘Yes.’
‘Must say, you know,’ panted Murchison, as he capered perseveringly round the floor, ‘they do you jolly well here. Said so to Bianca only the other day. Beats the Welfare State every time. No worries about money, or income tax–or repairs or upkeep. All the worrying done for you. Must be a wonderful life for a woman, I should say.’
‘Bianca finds it so, does she?’
‘Well, she was restless for a bit, but now she’s managed to get up a few committees and organize one or two things–debates, you know, and lectures. She’s complaining that you don’t take as much part as you might in things.’
‘I’m afraid I’m not that kind of person, Simon. I’ve never been very public spirited.’
‘Yes, but you girls have got to keep yourselves amused one way or another. At least I don’t mean amused exactly–’
‘Occupied?’ suggested Hilary.
‘Yes–I mean the modern woman wants to get her teeth into something. I quite realize that women like you and Bianca have made a definite sacrifice coming here–you’re neither of you scientists, thank goodness–really, these scientific women! Absolutely the limit, most of them! I said to Bianca, “Give Olive time, she’s got to get tuned in.