They came to Baghdad - Agatha Christie [44]
‘My brother-in-law takes away the body – and the young man who plays the part of the drunkard, he goes away quietly in the morning perhaps?’
‘That’s the idea.’
‘And there is no body found in my hotel? And Miss Jones she does not get any worry or annoyance? I think, my dear, that that is all a very good idea.’
‘Good, then if you’ll make sure the coast is clear, I’ll get the body across to my room. Those servants of yours potter round the corridors half the night. Go along to your room and raise a shindy. Get them all running to fetch you things.’
Marcus nodded and left the room.
‘You’re a strong girl,’ said Dakin. ‘Can you manage to help me to carry him across the corridor to my room?’
Victoria nodded. Between them they lifted the limp body, carried it across the deserted corridor (in the distance Marcus’ voice could be heard upraised in furious anger) and laid it on Dakin’s bed.
Dakin said:
‘Got a pair of scissors? Then cut off the top of your underblanket where it’s stained. I don’t think the stain’s gone through to the mattress. The tunic soaked up most of it. I’ll come along to you in about an hour. Here, wait a minute, take a pull from this flask of mine.’
Victoria obeyed.
‘Good girl,’ said Dakin. ‘Now go back to your room. Turn out the light. As I said, I’ll be along in about an hour.’
‘And you’ll tell me what it all means?’
He gave her a long rather peculiar stare but did not answer her question.
Chapter 14
Victoria lay in bed with her light out, listening through the darkness. She heard sounds of loud drunken altercation. Heard a voice declaring: ‘Felt I got to look you up, ole man. Had a row with a fellow outside.’ She heard bells ring. Heard other voices. Heard a good deal of commotion. Then came a stretch of comparative silence – except for the far-off playing of Arab music on a gramophone in somebody’s room. When it seemed to her as though hours had passed, she heard the gentle opening of her door and sat up in bed and switched on the bedside lamp.
‘That’s right,’ said Dakin approvingly.
He brought a chair up to the bedside and sat down in it. He sat there staring at her in the considering manner of a physician making a diagnosis.
‘Tell me what it’s all about?’ demanded Victoria.
‘Suppose,’ said Dakin, ‘that you tell me all about yourself first. What are you doing here? Why did you come to Baghdad?’
Whether it was the events of the night, or whether it was something in Dakin’s personality (Victoria thought afterwards that it was the latter), Victoria for once did not launch out on an inspired and meretricious account of her presence in Baghdad. Quite simply and straightforwardly she told him everything. Her meeting with Edward, her determination to get to Baghdad, the miracle of Mrs Hamilton Clipp, and her own financial destitution.
‘I see,’ said Dakin when she had finished.
He was silent for a moment before he spoke.
‘Perhaps I’d like to keep you out of this. I’m not sure. But the point is, you can’t be kept out of it! You’re in it, whether I like it or not. And as you’re in it, you might as well work for me.’
‘You’ve got a job for me?’ Victoria sat up in bed, her cheeks bright with anticipation.
‘Perhaps. But not the kind of job you’re thinking of. This is a serious job, Victoria. And it’s dangerous.’
‘Oh, that’s all right,’ said Victoria cheerfully. She added doubtfully, ‘It’s not dishonest, is it? Because though I know I tell an awful lot of lies, I wouldn’t really like to do anything that was dishonest.’
Dakin smiled a little.
‘Strangely enough, your capacity to think up a convincing lie quickly is one of your qualifications for the job. No, it’s not dishonest.