The Numbered Account (38 page)

‘And when did you find out that this had been done? I still don't understand about the need for posting to the Embassy,' Antrobus said.

‘Of course not, till you're told,' Julia said, trying not to upset him further. ‘Do let me tell you what happened; but I don't want to be bullied until you know the facts.'

‘How tough we are!' he said. ‘All right, my dear—tell me your story in your own way.'

‘I'm afraid your leg must be hurting you,' Julia said. ‘I believe pain does make people bloody-minded.' The patronising tone of his last remark had hurt her very much.

He held out a placatory hand.

‘I can't reach you—come nearer.' She kept her seat. ‘Oh very well—I'm sorry. Will that do? Now tell me.'

Julia told—of her encounter with Chambertin and von Allmen at the Schlucht restaurant, of finding herself tailed by the grey Volkswagen, and how she had examined the contents of the two bags in the ladies' lavatory at the Fluss; Antrobus laughed at that.

‘An excellent idea—very neat. So then what did you do?'

‘Divided them. Lolly in the black case for Chambertin,
the blue-prints in the other bag for you. John, such an odd thing'—his praise had restored her equanimity.

‘What?'

‘Some of the drawings looked rather like Colin's description of those under-water food-containers that are sunk in the lakes here; I mean there was a line that looked like water-level at the top, and measurements in metres up to it. Only there were pipes and things going out of the containers as well, as far as I could see—of course I was on a hurry.'

‘Have you mentioned that resemblance to anyone else?—Mrs. Hathaway, for instance?' he asked sharply.

‘No. Why?'

‘Well don't—don't speak of it to anyone.'

‘All right. Am I ever to know what they are?'

‘Some time, perhaps, Fatima!—as a reward for saving them. Now go on telling me about your complications.'

‘Well sure enough when I got back to the pub, there was von Allmen with Chambertin, and the grey Volkswagen, and spare police, and all.'

Antrobus laughed.

‘What were Chambertin and von Allmen doing when you got to the Silberhorn?'

‘Being beguiled by Mrs. Hathaway!' She continued to recount her and Colin's doings, including handing over the blue-prints to repose under Mrs. Hathaway's pillows. ‘I thought that a rather safe place,' she concluded.

‘So do I,' Antrobus said, laughing again. ‘But why post to Berne?'

‘That was her idea. When Colin and I went up this morning she told us she'd sent Watkins to post it to the Embassy. Things are pretty safe in the post,' Julia said. ‘Personally I think it was a sound notion. If Colin had taken it in by hand anyone could have slugged him on the way—as it is he'll be there by the time it's delivered, and his people can ring up, or go round in false beards and collect it, or whatever you all do.'

‘The Ambassador won't like it,' Antrobus said, looking dissatisfied.

‘Well he won't have to lump it for more than an hour, if that,' Julia replied cheerfully. ‘That is, if no one does slug Colin. If they do I don't know what happens—I go in with a chit from you, I suppose, to the anonymous office.' She was laughing.

Antrobus didn't laugh. He reached out and pressed a bell. When the nurse appeared—‘
Telefon, Schwester, bitte,'
he said; the nurse nodded, and disappeared.

‘Goodness, can you telephone from your bed?' Julia asked.

‘Yes—there are plug-ins in two or three of the rooms here, like in American military hospitals; there's one in this. But they're rather slow. Meantime, tell me what von Allmen asked you.'

‘How I knew Borovali's real name, mostly. And if I'd stolen Frau Dortmund's bag, and why?'

‘I should rather like to know that too. What moved you to snatch the bag? It seems almost like direct inspiration, since you'd got the brief-case. Why did you?'

‘Well really because she'd tried to cosh you with it, I think,' the girl said rather slowly, the ripe-apricot stain beginning to appear in her cheeks. ‘And she was so fat!' she added, rather hurriedly.

He studied her face, with its betraying blush, with remorseless steadiness. Julia had expected him to laugh, or at least grin, at her last words, but he did neither. ‘I
see,'
he said slowly, still looking at her; Julia became uncomfortable under that steady, non-committal scrutiny. She lit a cigarette, got up, and went over to the window, which looked out on a trim plot with the usual Swiss town-garden mixture of espalier fruit-trees, vegetables in soldierly rows, and narrow edgings of bright flowers.

‘And how did you answer the one about Borovali?' Antrobus's voice from the bed recalled her. ‘That involved your little friend, of course. Did you tell von Allmen where you had stowed her? I'm sure he wanted to know.'

‘Yes, he did—and I didn't tell him,' she said, turning round.

‘Oh! How did he take that?'

‘Poorly, till I told him that it was she who had provided the information that the papers would be handed over on the bus-tour. That shook him quite a lot—and I suggested that in view of the service she had rendered the Swiss police, he should leave her alone.'

‘Did he agree?'

‘Not in so many words. It must be awful to be police or lawyers, and never be able to say anything straight out,' Julia said. ‘But I don't think he will make any trouble—or let anyone else make any. I told him I should take her home myself, when Mrs. H. is quite fit again.'

Now Antrobus was laughing.

‘In fact you got away with it? What a getter-away with things you are, aren't you?'

Again Julia was hurt by the detached amusement in his voice—it was so unlike his former frequent praise of her skill, his warmth towards her.

‘It's just as well, for other people, that I do sometimes get away with things,' she said, turning back to the window.

Before Antrobus could answer there was a tap on the door, and the nurse trotted in with a telephone which she set down on the bed-table; she plugged it in at floor-level, saying—‘Now the Herr can get his connection. I return'—and trotted out again.

Antrobus reached out and set the instrument down in front of him on the honeycombed coverlet; the movement hurt his leg, and he gave a grunt of pain—‘Ough!' This upset Julia still more. ‘Shall I go out?' she asked, while he twiddled the dial.

‘No, it doesn't matter.' He lifted the receiver to his ear—his intent expression showed her that she was completely out of the picture for the moment.

‘Hullo? Oh, Philip—John here. … Yes, everything's fine. … No, not according to plan in the least, but perfectly successful. … No, I shan't be coming for a few days yet. … Because I'm in hospital.… No, nothing much.… Yes, there was a bit of a fracas. … Exactly—young Colin is on his way in to you now; he'll tell you everything. …
No, but as good as. … He'll
tell
you, I say. Don't fuss, Philip—it's cast-iron. … News for me, did you say? … Yes, I got the letter you forwarded, this morning; the hotel sent it round by hand, but it didn't say where to … Having
Tommy
as a colleague! Oh, how perfect!—I've always longed to get out there. … Well really, Philip, I can't say exactly how soon; “the undertaking is completed” all right—in their tedious phraseology—but I've had a bullet through an artery, and the doctor won't commit himself about dates just yet—he only stitched it up last night. … Yes, of course—tell them I shall report the moment I can move. I can't wait to get out there!—I've wanted to see those mosaics all my life. … Of course I shall look in on you on the way—there will be one or two points to tidy up. … What?—this thing's started to buzz; say it again. … Oh yes, the two main ones, who are what matter. I expect you'll get the Interpol report tomorrow, or later today possibly. Not the ones from outside. … No, technically impossible. … No, lay off the third; that's of no importance. I'll tell you when I see you. … Listen, Philip, did you hear me tell you to
lay off?
Well do what I say. … No, I won't explain anything now. You can give me a ring after you've actually laid hands on the things; my number is'—he gave it. ‘And don't get impatient when you ring up—the machine has to be lugged upstairs to my room. Goodbye.'

Listening to one end of a telephone conversation is always a tantalising business, but a shrewd and attentive listener can usually pick up a certain amount of the drift. Julia was fairly shrewd, and had listened with the most concentrated attention; she gathered quite clearly two points: that Antrobus had been insistent with his colleague in Berne not to pursue June, and that he was being transferred to another assignment as soon as he was fit to move, in a place where there were mosaics. Where would that be? She thought at once of Ravenna, but that was hardly likely; too unimportant, and too near—he had said ‘out there'. Then probably Istanbul—she remembered about an old American restoring famous mosaics in Santa Sofia,
the great church that had become a mosque. But what struck her with painful force as she listened was that he was longing to go; there was no hint of regret or reluctance in his words or, more important, in his voice—he was all happy eagerness. In fact—she swallowed a little as she faced and digested the wretched knowledge—he didn't mind leaving her in the least. He had just been enjoying himself, but he didn't care—he didn't care at all.

The last few moments of the conversation gave her a chance to pull herself together, nor did she stop paying attention even after she heard her new-found happiness being knocked from under her feet by a few words—she continued to listen carefully, and so heard that Antrobus was safeguarding June. That was something; indeed it was vital. But while she went on listening, her mind was at work. So he'd had the letter announcing his transfer this very morning, before she came; that would account for his being so different—if anything could decently account for the alteration between his attitude today and his behaviour up on the seat under the rowan-tree. ‘Write it off—a lost option,' Julia said to herself. She took out her compact and began to powder her nose, as Antrobus replaced the receiver.

‘Well, I expect you heard that I've done my best to prevent your little friend from being chased,' he said.

‘Yes, I did. I heard everything. Thank you.'

‘I think that what with you mopping up von Allmen, and the fact that she did really turn King's Evidence, it ought to be all right,' he said. ‘But she'll have to have a fresh passport, you know.'

‘Of course. We can get that from the Consulate in Berne.'

‘How?'

‘I shall say she's lost it—that's what I always do when I lose mine. But if your Philip has the Passport Control Officer in Berne on a string, you might get a word passed to smooth our path when the time comes.'

He laughed. ‘Very well—I'll do that. You both deserve it.'

‘Yes, don't we? Where would the poor old Secret Service be without us?' Julia said. Talking about concrete things like getting June home had done her good, taking her mind off her private misery—she cracked back at Antrobus almost without effort. But it was not without effort that she now said—‘And you're being transferred, I gather?'

‘Yes. I was only laid on here temporarily, for this bank affair, because I know the people and the language.'

‘But did they know in London beforehand that Wright and Borovali were going to rob Mr. Thalassides' numbered till?' Julia asked, so startled that she again forgot her own unhappiness.

‘Not
who,
or
how
—no. But there was a hint that an attempt would be made to get hold of the blue-prints; that's why I came out; and why you were able to accost me at Victoria!' he said smiling.

Julia didn't smile—she could no longer bear to recall that light-hearted moment. But her curiosity mastered her pain.

‘How on earth did Borovali come to know the account number? That seems so extraordinary.'

‘We don't know. He comes from the Middle East, as Thalassides did, and practically everyone there is as crooked as a dog's hind leg! There was certainly a leak somewhere—more likely east of the Piraeus than in London. But he did know the account number, and the lawyers' names, and got hold of a faked death-certificate, and of writing-paper with their letter-head, and forged the signatures.'

‘Must have been a minor leak in London too, mustn't there? Some trumpery underpaid clerk with a pregnant wife or a girl-friend with extravagant ideas, I expect,' Julia said. ‘Poor toad! He was exploited just like June, no doubt. How I do hate and
loathe
the way international crookery plays on these silly ignorant creatures.'

He looked at her rather earnestly. ‘You really are always on the side of the angels, aren't you? I like that,' he said, with more warmth than she had yet heard in his
voice that morning. But what good was it for him to like this or that about her, if he didn't like her enough to mind going two thousand, or whatever it was, miles away?

‘Oh, I hope I am,' she said, in her most casual voice. ‘No point in being on the side of the devils, that I can see, unless one's a commie.' And as he laughed—‘Where are all these mosaics? Istanbul?'

‘Yes. I've always longed to be there,' he said, with the same eagerness that she had heard while he was telephoning.

‘I thought Ankara was the capital nowadays,' Julia said, still using this protective disguise to her feelings. ‘Why won't you be up there?'

‘Oh, so many things really go on in Istanbul still,' he said, ‘in spite of the Cabinet and the Embassies being stuck up on the plateau. Of course one will be going to and fro—I believe the wild-flowers round Ankara are amazing: they say one of our Ambassadors, between the wars, found a new species, unknown to science, within a hundred yards of his newly-built Embassy.'