what he had always wanted to be, a gentleman of leisure.

Nevertheless he toyed with the idea of telling her now. I’m going to steal your mother’s jewels. I hope you don’t mind. She might say Good idea. The old cow never did anything to deserve them. No, that would not be Margaret’s reaction. She thought herself radical, and she believed in redistribution of wealth, but that was all theoretical: she would be shocked to the core if he actually dispossessed her family of some of their riches. She would take it like a body blow, and it would change her feelings about him.

She caught his eye and smiled.

He smiled back guiltily, then looked out of the window.

The plane was coming down to a horseshoe-shaped bay with a scattering of villages along its edge. Behind the villages was farmland. As they came closer, Harry made out a railway line snaking through farms to a long pier. Close to the pier were moored several vessels of different sizes and a small seaplane. To the east of the pier were miles of sandy beaches, with a few large summer cottages dotted among the dunes. Harry thought how nice it would be to have a summer house on the edge of the beach in a place like this. Well, if that’s what I want, that’s what I’ll have, he said to himself; I’m going to be rich!

The plane splashed down smoothly. Harry felt less tension: he was an experienced air traveler now.

“What time is it, Percy?” he asked.

“Eleven o’clock, local time. We’re running an hour late.”

“And how long do we stay here?”

“One hour.”

At Shediac a new method of docking was in operation. The passengers were not landed by launch. Instead a vessel that looked like a lobster boat came out and towed the plane in. Hawsers were attached to both ends of the plane, and it was winched in to a floating dock connected to the pier by a gangway.

This arrangement solved a problem for Harry. At previous stops, where the passengers had been landed by launch, there had been only one chance to go ashore. Harry had consequently been trying to think of some excuse for staying on board throughout this stopover without letting Margaret stay with him. Now, however, he could let Margaret go ashore and tell her he would follow in a few minutes, and she was less likely to insist on staying with him.

A steward opened the door and the passengers started putting on their coats and hats. All the Oxenfords got up. So did Clive Membury, who had hardly spoken a word all through the long flight——except, Harry now recalled, for one rather intense conversation with Baron Gabon. He wondered again what they had been talking about. Impatiently, he brushed the thought aside and concentrated on his own problems. As the Oxenfords were going out, Harry whispered to Margaret: “I’ll catch you up.” Then he went into the men’s room.

He combed his hair and washed his hands, just to have something to do. The window had been broken in the night somehow, and now there was a solid screen fixed to the frame. He heard the crew come down the stairs from the flight deck and pass the door. He checked his watch and decided to wait another two minutes.

He guessed almost everyone would get off. A lot of them had been too sleepy at Botwood, but by now they wanted to stretch their legs and get some fresh air. Ollis Field and his prisoner would stay on board, as always. It was odd that Membury went ashore, though, if he was supposed to keep an eye on Frankie. Harry was still intrigued by the man in the wine red waistcoat.

The cleaners would be coming aboard almost immediately. He listened hard: he could hear no sound from the other side of the door. He cracked it an inch and looked out. All was clear. Cautiously, he stepped out.

The kitchen opposite was empty. He glanced into number 2 compartment : empty. Looking toward the lounge, he saw the back of a woman with a broom. Without further hesitation, he went up the staircase.

He trod lightly, not wanting to advertise his approach. At the turn of the stairs, he paused and scrutinized as much of the floor of the flight cabin as he could see. No one was there. He was about to go on when a pair of uniformed legs came into view, walking across the carpet away from him. He ducked back around the comer, then peeped out. It was the assistant engineer, Mickey Finn, the one who had caught him last time. The man paused at the engineer’s station and turned around. Harry pulled his head back again, wondering where the crewman was headed. Would he come down the stairs? Harry listened hard. The footsteps went across the flight deck and became silent. Last time, Harry recalled, he had seen Mickey in the bow compartment, doing something with the anchor. Was the same thing happening now? He had to take a chance on it.

He went on up silently.

As soon as he was high enough he looked forward. His guess appeared to have been right: the hatch was open and Mickey was nowhere to be seen. Harry did not stop to look more closely, but hurried across the flight deck and passed quickly through the door at the rear end into the hold area. He closed the door softly behind him and breathed again.

Last time he had searched the starboard hold. This time he went into the port side.

He knew immediately that he was in luck. In the middle of the hold was a huge steamer trunk in green-and- gold leather with bright brass studs. He felt sure it belonged to Lady Oxenford. He checked the tag: there was no name, but the address was THE MANOR, OXENFORD, BERKSHIRE.

“Bingo,” he said softly.

It was secured by one simple lock, which he snapped with the blade of his penknife.

As well as the lock, it had six brass clasps that were fastened without keys. He undid them all.

The trunk was designed to be used as a wardrobe in a stateroom on board a liner. Harry stood it on end and opened it up. It divided into two spacious cupboards. On one side was a hanging rail with dresses and coats, and a small shoe compartment at the bottom. The other side contained six drawers.

Harry went through the drawers first. They were made of light wood covered in leather, and were lined with velvet. Lady Oxenford had silk blouses, cashmere sweaters, lace underwear and crocodile belts.

On the other side, the top of the trunk lifted like a lid, and the hanging rail slid out to make it easier to get at the dresses. Harry ran his hands up and down each garment and felt all around the sides of the trunk.

Finally he opened the shoe compartment. There was nothing in it but shoes.

He was crestfallen. He had been so sure that she would have her jewels with her; but maybe there was a flaw in his reasoning.

It was too soon to give up hope.

His first inclination was to look for the rest of the Oxenford family’s luggage, but he thought again. If I were going to transport priceless jewels in checked baggage, he thought, I would try to conceal them somehow. And it would be easier to make a hiding place in a big trunk than in a regular suitcase.

He decided to look again.

He started with the hanging compartment. He put one arm inside the trunk and one outside and tried to gauge the thickness of the sides: if they seemed abnormal there might be a hidden compartment. But he found nothing unusual. Turning to the other side, he pulled all the drawers out completely—

And found the hiding place.

His heart beat faster.

A large manila envelope and a leather wallet were taped to the back of the trunk.

“Amateurs,” he said, shaking his head.

With growing excitement he began detaching the tapes. The first item to come loose was the envelope. It felt as if it contained nothing but a wad of papers, but Harry ripped it open anyway. Inside were about fifty sheets of heavy paper with elaborate printing on one side. It took him a while to figure out what they were, but eventually he decided they were bearer bonds, each worth a hundred thousand dollars.

Fifty of those added up to five million dollars, which was a million pounds.

Harry sat staring at the bonds. A million pounds. It was almost too much to take in.

Harry knew why they were there. The British government had brought in emergency exchange-control regulations to stop money leaving the country. Oxenford was smuggling his bonds out, which was a criminal offense, of course.

He’s just as much of a crook as I am, Harry thought wryly.

Harry had never stolen bonds. Would he be able to cash them? They were payable to the bearer: that was stated plainly on the front of each certificate. But they were also individually numbered, so that they could be identified. Would Oxenford report them stolen? That might mean admitting he had smuggled them out of England.

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