They came to Baghdad - Agatha Christie [47]
‘Every frontier has been watched for him. Innocent lives have been sacrificed in mistake for his – they don’t set much store by human life. But somehow or other he got through unscathed – until tonight.’
‘Then that was who –he was?’
‘Yes, my dear. A very brave and indomitable young man.’
‘But what about the proofs? Did they get those?’
A very slow smile showed on Dakin’s tired face.
‘I don’t think they did. No, knowing Carmichael, I’m pretty sure they didn’t. But he died without being able to tell us where those proofs are and how to get hold of them. I think he probably tried to say something when he was dying that should give us the clue.’ He repeated slowly, ‘Lucifer – Basrah – Lefarge. He’d been in Basrah – tried to report at the Consulate and narrowly missed being shot. It’s possible that he left the proofs somewhere in Basrah. What I want you to do, Victoria, is to go there and try to find out.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. You’ve no experience. You don’t know what you’re looking for. But you heard Carmichael’s last words and they may suggest something to you when you get there. Who knows – you may have beginner’s luck?’
‘I’d love to go to Basrah,’ said Victoria eagerly.
Dakin smiled.
‘Suits you because your young man is there, eh? That’s all right. Good camouflage, too. Nothing like a genuine love affair for camouflage. You go to Basrah, keep your eyes and ears open and look about you. I can’t give you any instructions for how to set about things – in fact I’d much rather not. You seem a young woman with plenty of ingenuity of your own. What the words Lucifer and Lefarge mean, assuming that you heard correctly, I don’t know. I’m inclined to agree with you that Lefarge must be a name. Look out for that name.’
‘How do I get to Basrah?’ said Victoria in a businesslike way. ‘And what do I use for money?’
Dakin took out his pocket-book and handed her a wad of paper money.
‘That’s what you use for money. As for how you get to Basrah, fall into conversation with that old trout Mrs Cardew Trench tomorrow morning, say you’re anxious to visit Basrah before you go off to this Dig you’re pretending to work at. Ask her about a hotel. She’ll tell you at once you must stay at the Consulate and will send a telegram to Mrs Clayton. You’ll probably find your Edward there. The Claytons keep open house – everyone who passes through stays with them. Beyond that, I can’t give you any tips except one. If – er – anything unpleasant happens, if you’re asked what you know and who put you up to what you’re doing – don’t try and be heroic. Spill the beans at once.’
‘Thank you very much,’ said Victoria gratefully. ‘I’m an awful coward about pain, and if anyone were to torture me I’m afraid I shouldn’t hold out.’
‘They won’t bother to torture you,’ said Mr Dakin. ‘Unless some sadistic element enters in. Torture’s very old-fashioned. A little prick with a needle and you answer every question truthfully without realizing you’re doing it. We live in a scientific age. That’s why I didn’t want you to get grand ideas of secrecy. You won’t be telling them anything they don’t know already. They’ll be wise to me after this evening – bound to be. And to Rupert Crofton Lee.’
‘What about Edward? Do I tell him?’
‘That I must leave to you. Theoretically, you’re to hold your tongue about what you’re doing to everybody. Practically!’ His eyebrows went up quizzically. ‘You can put him in danger, too. There’s that aspect of it. Still, I gather he had a good record in the Air Force. I don’t suppose danger will worry him. Two heads are often better than one. So he thinks there’s something fishy about this “Olive Branch” he’s working for? That’s interesting – very interesting.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we think so, too,’ said Dakin.