Codeword Golden Fleece (34 page)

‘Very well,’ he said, ‘I will discuss the matter with my friends over breakfast. And now, if you have nothing further to say, I will go to sleep again.’

‘You agree to depart?’

‘I did not say so. I will talk over the matter with my friends.’

‘You will all be very ill-advised if you ignore the warning I have given you, as you will get no second one.’

‘We shall see about that,’ de Richleau shrugged. ‘By the by, you might as well leave by the door. In fact, since you can intimidate the hotel staff into becoming your accomplices, I don’t see why you bothered to come in by the window.’

A darting smile illumined the dark man’s face. ‘We assumed that your door would be locked, and we thought you might be armed. If we had had to break in, you would have been ready for us with your gun, and we had no wish to be shot before we could explain the object of our visit. The fire-escape below your window presented a better chance of getting into your room while you were still asleep. I’m sorry to have disturbed you, but we were acting under instructions.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ replied the Duke politely, as the other turned towards the door and, accompanied by his silent companion, let himself out.

Seeing that it was only a quarter past five, de Richleau read a few more passages from
Winged Pharaoh
, then put out the light and went to sleep again.

He woke at eight and spoke to Simon on the house telephone, asking him and Rex to breakfast. When they had joined him and Marie Lou, and Richard had hobbled from his bedroom to the sofa, the Duke gave them all a cynically humorous account of the visit he had received from the two Iron Guards.

‘Don’t see anything to laugh at,’ commented Simon when the recital was completed.

‘Neither do I, really,’ rejoined the Duke mildly. ‘It’s the memory of their faces when I switched on the light that makes me regard the affair with undue lightness. They were actually extremely
businesslike young men, and there’s no doubt that their organisation is an exceedingly powerful one.’

‘What filthy luck,’ said Marie Lou, ‘that they should have insisted on our going on the midday train, at the very hour you were going to collect the Golden Fleece from Teleuescu!’

‘They’re not the only guys who can come and go by a fire-escape,’ Rex grunted. ‘Soon as we’ve finished breakfast I’ll slip out that way and get to Teleuescu somehow. I’ll find out at what hour the Prime Minister is signing, and, if it’s too late for him to get the thing to us by hand, ask him to send it direct to Sir Reginald at the Legation.’

‘Better ask him to do that in any case,’ supplemented Simon. ‘Even if he could get it to us, it doesn’t look as though we’d stand much chance of getting it to the Legation now.’

‘No,’ said the Duke firmly. ‘This is not just a question of eluding a handful of the enemy for a matter of half an hour. The Iron Guard has hundreds of members and is extremely well organised. You may be quite sure that they will picket the back of the hotel as well as the front. Our suites make very comfortable cells, but for all practical purposes we are now under arrest in them. These people are not in the least afraid of the police and have already got away with murder in open daylight on a number of occasions. If any of us attempted to leave by the fire-escape, we should be shot before we had covered a hundred yards. I fear that, in this case, discretion is quite definitely the better part of valour. I see nothing for it but to put as pleasant a face as possible on it and knuckle under.’

‘What, leave without the option!’ exclaimed Richard. ‘We’ve never yet walked out of a game with our tails between our legs.’

‘He who fights and runs away…’ quoted the Duke. ‘Honestly, Richard, those young blackguards will think up some devilry for us tonight that will cost us pretty dear if we don’t accept their so-called invitation; and we dare not risk a shooting affray with you still crocked up and the two girls to think of.’

‘Um. Always have hated these shooting parties,’ Simon agreed. ‘Still, must be something we can do. How about sending the banker’s draft to Sir Reginald via Cook’s? Ask him to collect the Golden Fleece from Teleuescu for us?’

‘Yes. I thought of that.’ De Richleau sprinkled a lavish helping of sugar from the castor on to the slice of cantaloup which he had just fetched from the sideboard. ‘We’ll get out something
pretty non-committal but clear enough for him to understand, in a minute.’

When they had finished eating they composed the note and enclosed the banker’s draft in it; after which the men went off to bath and dress, while Marie Lou went along the corridor to warn Lucretia that they were leaving and help her to pack.

At a quarter to ten de Richleau left the hotel and was soon walking down the sunny Calea Victoriei in its most congested part, where it twists and bends and becomes as narrow as Bond Street. He had already identified his escort: one middle-aged man, who was walking just ahead of him but kept glancing round, apparently at nothing, and two youths looking like students, who were walking abreast, a few paces in his rear.

When he reached Cook’s office the middle-aged man stopped at the door, as though undecided whether to go in, waited until the Duke came up, politely made way for him to pass and followed him inside.

On reaching the Foreign Travel counter, behind which there was only one clerk disengaged, de Richleau found the man beside him, so he said amiably in French: ‘I think you were really first, so do go ahead.’

‘No, no,’ the man protested. ‘I am in no hurry, but the enquiries I have to make will take some time. I would not dream of holding you up while I make them.’

Out of the corner of his eye the Duke saw that the two youngsters who looked like students had now come in and were standing by a rack in the middle of the floor, from which they had taken some travel brochures which they were pretending to study with interest. He knew then that the possibility of his trying to send a message to anyone through Cook’s had been foreseen and guarded against. Even if he could have got rid of the man beside him, the others were watching him also and would intervene at once if they saw their comrade leave him.

But de Richleau had also foreseen such a possibility, and he had placed the note for Sir Richard between the passports and written on the top left-hand corner of the envelope: ‘It is requested that this letter be despatched by hand to the British Legation as a matter of the utmost urgency.’

He produced the pack of passports from his pocket and was just about to pass them across the counter.

Suddenly the man beside him snatched them from his hand and, turning, stared into his face with a bright, false smile.

‘Permit me to help you. It always is a pleasure to assist a foreigner in the intricacies of travel.’

Before the Duke had time even to protest, the man had shuffled quickly through the little pack, found the letter and removed it.

With a beaming display of teeth he handed it back, exclaiming brightly: ‘Ah! This has got among them by mistake, I expect. Put it safely in your pocket. Tell me where you wish to go, and I will arrange everything. It is such a pleasure to help a visitor to Bucharest. Do you not think it a lovely city?’

‘Turkey,’ grunted the discomfited Duke, who could cheerfully have pushed the man’s teeth down his throat, but there seemed little choice but to stand by while this officious stranger did his business for him.

When the transaction was completed de Richleau made a show of thanking the man in front of the travel agent, gave him one look that had it been the thrust of a dagger would have killed, and walked stiffly back to the hotel.

His friends saw at once that he was in one of his rare tempers, and Marie Lou asked him tactfully if anything had upset him.

For a moment he could hardly speak, then he burst out; ‘I’ve been made a complete fool of by a little twerp of an Iron Guard agent. On the pretence of helping me get those tickets he simply took the passports out of my hand, found our letter and handed it back to me, while I stood there like a ninny!’

‘Oh, Greyeyes, darling! How horrid for you!’ exclaimed Marie Lou, her big eyes opened wide in sympathy. But the mental picture of the Duke’s discomfiture proved too much for her, and, her sense of humour overcoming her pose, she suddenly gave way to peals of laughter.

The others joined in, and after a moment even de Richleau’s fury with himself was dispelled to the extent of his muttering with a smile: ‘Yes, I suppose there is a funny side to it, but I’ve a very good memory for faces, and if I ever come up against that impertinent little brute again I’ll choke the life out of him.’

In spite of their amusement, they were quick to appreciate the serious side of the matter, and very soon their laughter had given way to anxious consultation.

They had counted more than they realised on getting this letter to Sir Reginald, the sands of their time in Bucharest were
rapidly running out, and, rack their brains as they would, they could think of no other way of communicating with either the Minister or Teleuescu; and, if they could not get the banker’s draft to the latter that day, they might never have another chance to secure the all-important option.

Silent and anxious, they dispersed to finish their packing, and while doing it rack their brains afresh, but when they met again in the Duke’s suite a few minutes before half past eleven none of them had any suggestions to offer.

Downstairs in the hall two white-coated ambulance men were waiting for them, and, taking the carrying-chair, in which Richard had been brought down in the lift, from the porters, they bore him out to the street.

As the Duke followed with the others, he saw that a long, low, open car was drawn up just behind the ambulance. In it were his two visitors of the night before and two other stalwart young men; so it seemed that the deportees were not to be given any chance of jumping out of the back of the ambulance on the way to the station. They all crowded into it, and the doors were not only slammed but locked behind them.

De Richleau was crushed up next to Lucretia, and it was the first chance he had had to have a proper look at her that morning. He thought she was looking a trifle better, but decided that might be due to the soft glow from the shaded electric light. In any case, she was still listless and silent and refrained from speaking unless a direct question was put to her.

The ambulance pulled up smoothly, its doors were unlocked, and they descended into the station yard. The car with the four Iron Guards in it had pulled up just behind them, and the short, dark man got out, followed by his companions.

Having saluted the Duke’s party politely, while his fair friend was securing porters for them the leader handed them their passports and escorted them through the barrier and on to the platform. The long train was already in the station, and their reservations were all in order. Richard was carrried through on the stretcher by the ambulance men, but he was now sufficiently recovered to get into the train unaided and lie down on the day berth that had been considerately ordered for him. The others sorted themselves out and made themselves comfortable, while the dark man kept a watchful eye on them.

Just before the train was due to leave, the two Iron Guards who had remained out in the yard to supervise the stretcher party
reappeared with a pile of luncheon baskets, an armful of periodicals in several languages, two large bunches of flowers and two big boxes of chocolates.

As they were handed in, the leader said to de Richleau: ‘We would not have you leave Rumania thinking us inhospitable. Please accept these trifles with our best wishes for a good journey.’

‘Thank you,’ the Duke smiled. ‘That is most considerate of you. Please believe that, whatever you may imagine about us now, we have the true interests of Rumania at heart, and in happier times we shall all hope to make a longer visit to your beautiful country.’

The door was closed, the whistles blew, and the train steamed slowly out of the station.

‘Aw, hell!’ muttered Rex, as it gathered speed, and they passed the extreme end of the platform. ‘Did you ever hear of such lousy luck?’

‘Yes. Beaten on the post,’ sighed Richard.

‘Um, we’ll never get the Golden Fleece now,’ added Simon gloomily, as he turned in the doorway to go to his place in the next compartment.

De Richleau was standing in the corridor with him, and Marie Lou suddenly noticed that he was smiling.

‘What is it, Greyeyes?’ she asked quickly. ‘You’ve got an idea. You always have when you smile like that.’

‘Haven’t you noticed anything?’ he replied with tantalising slowness. ‘Something they forgot when they gave us that splendid send-off.’

‘Noticed anything? Why no. What more could they do than give us lunch, papers, chocolates and these flowers, which are quite heavenly?’

‘Yes, they were a charming thought. Those young devils could hardly keep their eyes off you and Lucretia. But let me put it then that someone is missing in our party.’

‘There can’t be. Lucretia is tucked up in a corner of the compartment next door, and the rest of us are all—’

‘Good God!’ cut in Richard. ‘I see what you’re driving at now. They haven’t saddled us with an escort.’

‘Exactly,’ laughed the Duke. ‘I took it for granted that some of them would see us safely across the frontier, but apparently that didn’t occur to them. So we’ve a sporting chance yet.’

‘Where’s our first stop?’ Simon jerked out.

‘On an express like this I shouldn’t think we’ll pull up until we reach Giurgevo. That’s the frontier town before we enter Bulgaria.’

‘Oh, darling,’ sighed Marie Lou ‘I expect that’s hours away and much too far for any of you to get back to Bucharest before tomorrow. You shouldn’t have raised our hopes like this.’

‘On the contrary,’ smiled de Richleau, ‘Giurgevo is less than fifty miles from the capital. Mind you, there’s many a slip … They may have telphoned some of their friends to meet the train and see us over the border. But, if not, any of us who has a mind to it should easily be able to get back to Bucharest by the evening.’

Richard groaned. ‘May the devil take those Polish policemen who made me wreck that car. I’ve the mind to go back all right, but crocked as I am it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to let me come with you.’