‘Monday.’
She moved to the door.
‘Until you go—and leave a note for your sister to watch it afterwards—I’d like any press cuttings you can pick up of the discovery of the body of a man strangled to death, at Ash Cottage, Crundale, near Wye. That’s in Kent.’
Wilkins looked at me. That’s all. Just looked.
*
Gloriana mixed me a large dry martini which I sipped at gently over the next twenty minutes in order to avoid having the top of my head blown off. She drank lime juice with soda.
She had her place of honour on the large settee, one leg curled up underneath her. She wore a short blue woollen dress and a gold band around her hair. On my way in the taxi I had debated with myself what I was going to tell her. Usually I like to keep a little up my sleeve for a rainy day. However, by the time I had the martini glass in my hand, freezing my fingers off, I’d decided to give her the truth. By now I was quite sure that there was something wrong with all this Freeman business. And let’s face it, because of my low iron and vitamin content I welcomed it. I was beginning to feel that maybe life still had something to offer. It’s instructive, too, to lay the truth out for people. Not all of them can control the reactions they would like to control.
She listened carefully as I went through the story, every detail, and I watched her carefully. The only thing I saw of interest was the gentle swinging movement of one long nylon leg over the edge of the settee.
I finished, ‘Any comments?’
She considered this for a moment, then said, ‘Only that he seemed to be getting himself into the dirt again. And I’ll have to get him out.’
‘Got a photograph of him?’
‘I’ll give you one before you go.’
‘Would he murder a man?’
‘No.’
‘Bill Dawson—know him?’
‘No.’
‘Did you know about the country cottage?’
‘No.’
‘Did he ever mention any girl in Paris, probably a cabaret type? Favours Oriental gear.’
‘No.’
‘We’re doing well. What about Leon Pelegrina who sends him a New Year’s card from Florence?’
‘No.’
‘Tripoli—has he been there before to your knowledge?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s better.’
‘He showed me something he did about a year ago. Some feature article which his firm placed with one of the Sunday papers. It was about the oil industry in Libya. I didn’t read it.’
‘Do you have any ideas about Monsieur Duchêne with his phoney list of antique coins?’
‘No.’
‘And you’ve never heard of Francois Paulet?’
‘No.’
‘And this strangled type in the cottage. From my description, does he seem to fit anyone you know?’
‘No.’
‘We’re back on the old negative routine.’
She said, ‘I know very little about my brother or his circle. That’s why you’re here. I want you to find him.’
‘Well, one thing I’m pretty sure of—he’s not in this country. How do you feel about footing first-class travel expenses all over the place? And my fee?’
‘What is your fee?’
‘It might be a long job, so I’ll give you the monthly rate which comes a little cheaper. One thousand pounds a month.’ I pitched it very high.
‘That’s all right.’
It’s nice to be rich.
‘My secretary,’ I said, ‘is flying on Monday to Cairo to spend a holiday with her fiance. She could go via Tripoli, spend a few days there and check whether your brother is around. I’d only charge you half expenses for that since she’s going out to Cairo anyway.’ Wilkins always paid her own fare so there was no reason why I shouldn’t do her some good. Whether she would take it on, of course, was another matter.
Gloriana nodded, and said, ‘And what are you going to do?’
‘The police,’ I said, ‘are going to find that body in the cottage. I thought I’d hang about for a day or so to see if they issue an identification. Could help. Then I’d like to see Monsieur Duchêne in Paris, and then Signore Leon Pelegrina in Florence. After that I’ll play it by ear, according to whatever my secretary turns up.’
‘That seems reasonable. But I’d like you to keep in touch with me. You can always phone. I’m usually here between seven and eight at night.’
‘I was hoping you wouldn’t be tonight.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I was hoping you’d have dinner with me. I’ve got a much better suit than this at home. And I won’t let you down with my table manners.’
She smiled, which I hadn’t expected, and said, ‘Just for the pleasure of my company?’
‘Absolutely. I won’t give a thought to the million stacked up behind it.’
‘I’d be delighted. Would you like another martini?’
‘Not unless you and your maid are prepared to carry me to the lift. I’m a whisky man, really.’
She nodded understandingly. I got up, patted the antique Buddha on the head, gave her my little bow and went, saying, ‘I’ll pick you up just before seven.’
In this business it is important to establish cordial relations with clients. It gives them the feeling that you have their interests exclusively at heart. It has other side-effects too—not always pleasant.
*
I had trouble with Wilkins. I knew I would. She was very much a creature of habit. This was her holiday. Why should she spend it working?
‘All right. You can add an extra week to your leave. And don’t forget you’ll be getting your expenses.’
‘But Olaf wouldn’t like me to be alone in a town like Tripoli. He fusses, you know.’
The idea of anyone fussing over capable Wilkins was novel —but who was I to argue? I know what love can do to people.
‘You’ll probably be safer in Tripoli than you are in Greenwich. But if you want the anxious Swede to stop from worrying ask him to join you there. It must be less than an hour’s flight from Cairo. All you have to do is send him a cable, fix rooms at a Tripoli hotel—and I suggest the Libya Palace—and change your air ticket. I tell you this Stankowski thing could
