They Came to Baghdad

‘I’m worried about that girl. I really am.’

‘Dear me, Richard, I had no idea there was anything of that kind.’

‘What kind?’

‘That you’d formed an attachment. That’s the worst of having women on a Dig – especially good-looking ones. I really did think we were safe with Sybil Muirfield the year before last, a really distressingly plain girl – and see what came of it! I ought to have listened to Claude in London – these Frenchmen always hit the nail on the head. He commented on her legs at the time – most enthusiastic about them. Of course this girl, Victoria Venetia, whatever her name is –most attractive and such a nice little thing. You’ve got good taste, Richard, I will admit that. Funny thing, she’s the first girl I’ve ever known you take any interest in.’

‘There’s nothing of that kind,’ said Richard, blushing and looking even more supercilious than usual. ‘I’m just – er – worried about her. I must go back to Baghdad.’

‘Well, if you are going tomorrow,’ said Dr Pauncefoot Jones, ‘you might bring back those extra picks. That fool of a driver forgot them.’ 

III

Richard started into Baghdad at early dawn and went straight to the Tio Hotel. Here he learnt that Victoria had not returned.

‘And it was all arranged that she was to have special dinner with me,’ said Marcus. ‘And I kept her a very nice room. It is odd, is it not?’

‘Have you been to the Police?’

‘Ah no, my dear, it would not be nice, that. She might not like it. And I certainly would not like it.’

After a little inquiry, Richard tracked down Mr Dakin and called upon him in his office.

His memory of the man had not played him false. He looked at the stooping figure, the indecisive face and the slight tremor of the hands. This man was no good! He apologized to Mr Dakin if he was wasting his time but had he seen Miss Victoria Jones.

‘She called on me the day before yesterday.’

‘Can you give me her present address?’

‘She’s at the Tio Hotel, I believe.’

‘Her luggage is there, but she isn’t.’

Mr Dakin raised his eyebrows slightly.

‘She has been working with us on the Excavations at Tell Aswad,’ explained Richard.

‘Oh I see. Well – I’m afraid I don’t know anything that can help you. She has several friends in Baghdad, I believe – but I don’t know her well enough to say who they are.’

‘Would she be at this Olive Branch?’

‘I don’t think so. You could ask.’

Richard said: ‘Look here. I’m not leaving Baghdad until I find her.’

He frowned at Mr Dakin and strode out of the room.

Mr Dakin, as the door closed behind Richard, smiled and shook his head.

‘Oh Victoria,’ he murmured reproachfully.

Fuming into the Tio Hotel, Richard was met by a beaming Marcus.

‘She’s come back,’ cried Richard eagerly.

‘No, no, it’s Mrs Pauncefoot Jones. She arrives by plane today I have just heard. Dr Pauncefoot Jones, he told me she was coming next week.’

‘He always gets dates wrong. What about Victoria Jones?’

Marcus’s face went grave again.

‘No, I have heard nothing of her. And I do not like it, Mr Baker. It is not nice. She is so young a girl. And so pretty. And so gay and charming.’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Richard, flinching. ‘I’d better wait over and greet Mrs Pauncefoot Jones, I suppose.’

What on earth he wondered could have happened to Victoria. 

IV

‘You!’ said Victoria with undisguised hostility.

Ushered up to her room in the Babylonian Palace Hotel, the first person she saw was Catherine.

Catherine nodded her head with equal venom.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It is I. And now please go to bed. The doctor will soon arrive.’

Catherine was dressed as a hospital nurse and she took her duties seriously, being obviously quite determined never to leave Victoria ’s side. Victoria, lying disconsolately in bed, murmured:

‘If I could get hold of Edward –’

‘Edward – Edward!’ said Catherine scornfully. ‘Edward has never cared for you, you stupid English girl. It is me whom Edward loves!’

Victoria looked at Catherine’s stubborn fanatical face without enthusiasm.

Catherine went on:

‘Always I have hated you from that first morning you came in and demanded to see Dr Rathbone with such rudeness.’

Searching about for an irritant, Victoria said:

‘At any rate I’m much more indispensable than you are. Anybody could do your hospital nurse act. But the whole thing depends on me doing mine.’

Catherine said with prim smugness:

‘Nobody is indispensable. We are taught that.’

‘Well I am. For goodness’ sake order up a substantial meal. If I don’t get something to eat, how do you expect me to give a good performance of an American banker’s secretary when the time comes?’

‘I suppose you might as well eat while you can,’ said Catherine grudgingly.

Victoria took no notice of the sinister implication. 

V

Captain Crosbie said:

‘I understand you’ve got a Miss Harden just arrived.’

The suave gentleman in the office of the Babylonian Palace inclined his head.

‘Yes, sir. From England.’

‘She’s a friend of my sister’s. Will you take my card up to her.’

He pencilled a few words on the card and sent it up in an envelope.

Presently the boy who had taken it returned.

‘The lady is not well, sir. Very bad throat. Doctor coming soon. She has hospital nurse with her.’

Crosbie turned away. He went along to the Tio where he was accosted by Marcus.

‘Ah, my dear, let us have a drink. This evening my hotel is quite full. It is for the Conference. But what a pity, Dr Pauncefoot Jones went back to his Expedition the day before yesterday and now here is his wife who arrives and expects that he will be here to meet her. And she is not pleased, no! She says she told him she was coming on this plane. But you know what he is like, that one. Every date, every time – he always gets it wrong. But he is a very