thetic Oil of Jasmine.' After that you will place yourself
entirely at the disposal of the person who has spoken to
you. By the way, are you armed?"
"No," said little Mr. Roberts in a flutter. "No; I
never thought. That ism"
"That can soon be remedied," said the bearded man.
He glanced around. No one was near them. Something
hard and shining was pressed into Mr. Roberts' hand.
"A small weapon but efficacious," said the stranger,
smiling.
Mr. Roberts, who had never fired a revolver in his
life, slipped it gingerly into a pocket. He had an uneasy
feeling that it might go off at any minute.
They went over the passwords again. Then Roberts'
new friend rose.
"I wish you good luck," he said. "May you come
through safely. You are a brave man, Mr. Roberts."
"Am I?" thought Roberts, when the other had
departed. "I'm sure I don't want to get killed. That
would never do."
A pleasant thrill shot down his spine, slightly adul-terated
by a thrill that was not quite so pleasant.
He went to his room and examined the weapon. He
was still uncertain about its mechanism and hoped he
would not be called upon to use it.
He went out to book his seat.
The train left Geneva at nine-thirty. Roberts got to
the station in good time. The sleeping-car conductor
took his ticket and his passport, and stood aside while
an underling swung Roberts' suitcase onto the rack.
There was other luggage there: pigskin case and a Glad-stone
bag.
"Number Nine is the lower berth," said the con-ductor.
As Roberts turned to leave the carriage he ran into a
big man who was entering. They drew apart with apolo
THE CASE OF THE CITY CLERK
73
gies--Roberts' in English and the stranger's in French.
He was a big burly man, with a closely shaven head and
thick eyeglasses through which his eyes seemed to peer
suspiciously.
"An ugly customer," said the little man to himself.
He sensed something vaguely sinister about his travel-ing
companion. Was it to keep a watch on this man that
he had been told to ask for Berth Number Nine? He fan-cied
it might be.
He went out again into the corridor. There was still
ten minutes before the train was due to start and he
thought he would walk up and down the platform.
Halfway along the passage he stood back to allow a lady
to pass him. She was just entering the train and the con-ductor
preceded her, ticket in hand. As she passed
Roberts she dropped her hand bag. The Englishman
picked it up and handed it to her.
"Thank you, Monsieur." She spoke in English but
her voice was foreign, a rich low voice very seductive in
quality. As she was about to pass on, she hesitated and
murmured: "Pardon, Monsieur, but I think you were
recently at Grasse?"
Roberts' heart leaped with excitement. He was to
place himself at the disposal of this lovely creature--for
she was lovely, of that there was no doubt. Not only
lovely, but aristocratic and wealthy. She wore a travel-ing
coat of fur, a chic hat. There were pearls round her
neck. She was dark and her lips.were scarlet.
Roberts made the required answer: "Yes, last
month."
"You are interested in scent?"
"Yes, I am a manufacturer of synthetic Oil of
.Jasmine."
She bent her head and passed on, leaving a mere
whisper behind her: "In the corridor as soon as the train
starts."
74
Agatha Christie
The next ten minutes seemed an age to Roberts. At
last the train started. He walked slowly along the cor-ridor.
The lady in the fur coat was struggling with a win-dow.
He hurried to her assistance.
"Thank you, Monsieur. Just a little air before they
insist on closing everything." And then in a soft, low,
rapid voice: "After the frontier, when our fellow
traveler is asleep--not before--go into the washing
place and through into the compartment on the other
side. You understand?"
"Yes." He let down the window and said in a louder
voice: "Is that better, Madame?"
"Thank you very much."
He retired to his compartment. His traveling compan-ion
was already stretched out in the upper berth. His
preparations for the night had evidently been simple.
The removal of boots and a coat, in fact.
Roberts debated his own costume..Clearly if he were
going into a lady's compartment he could not undress.
He found a pair of slippers, substituted them for his
boots, and then lay down, switching out the light. A few
minutes later, the man above began to snore.
Just after ten o'clock they reached the frontier. The
door was thrown open; a perfunctory question was
asked. Had Messieurs anything to declare? The door
was closed again. Presently the train drew out of Belle-garde.
The man in the upper berth was snoring again.
Roberts allowed twenty minutes to elapse, then he
slipped to his feet and opened the door of the lavatory
compartment. Once inside, he bolted the door behind
him and eyed the door on the farther side. It was not
bolted. He hesitated. Should he knock?
Perhaps it would be absurd to knock. But he didn't
quite like entering without knocking. He compromised,
opened the door gently about an inch and waited. He
THE CASE OF THE CITY CLERK
75
even ventured on a small cough.
The response was prompt. The door was pulled open,
he was seized by the arm, pulled through into the farther
compartment, and the girl closed and bolted the door
behind him.
Roberts caught his breath. Never had he imagined
anything so lovely. She, was wearing a long foamy garment
of cream chiffon and lace. She leaned against the
door into the corridor, panting. Roberts had often read
of beautiful hunted creatures at bay. Now, for the first
time, he saw one--a thrilling sight.
"Thank God!" murmured the girl.
She was quite young, Roberts noted, and her loveliness
was such that she seemed to him like a being from
another world. Here was romance at last--and he was in
it!
She spoke in a low, hurried voice. Her English was
good but the inflection was wholly foreign. "I am so
glad you have come," .she said. "I have been horribly
'frightened. Vassilievitch is on the train. You understand
what that means?"
Roberts did not understand in the least what it meant,
but he nodded.
"I thought I had given them the slip. I might have
known better. What are we to do? Vassilievitch is in the
next carriage to me. Whatever happens, he must not get
the jewels. Even if he murders me, he must not get the
jewels."
"He's not going to murder you and he's not going to
get the jewels," said Roberts with determination.
"Then what am I to do with them?"
Roberts looked past her at the door. "The door's
bolted," he said.
The girl laughed. "What are locked doors to Vassilievitch?"
Roberts felt more and more as though he were in the
76
Agatha Christie
middle of one of his favorite novels. "There's only one
thing to be done. Give them to me."
She looked at him doubtfully. "They arc worth a
quarter of a million."
Roberts flushed. "You can trust me."
The girl hesitated a moment longer, then: "Yes, I will
trust you," she said. She made a swift movement. The
next minute she was holding out to him a rolled-up pair
of stockings--stockings of cobweb silk. "Take them,
my friend," she said to the astonished Roberts.
He took them and at once he understood. Instead of
being light as air, the stockings were unexpectedly
heavy.
"Take them into your compartment," she said. "You
can give them to me in the morning--if--if I am still
here."
Roberts coughed. "Look here," he said. "About
you." He paused. "I--I must keep guard over you."
Then he flushed in an agony of propriety. "Not in here,
I mean. I'll stay in there." He nodded towards the
lavatory compartment.
"If you like to stay here--" She glanced at the upper
unoccupied berth.
Roberts flushed to the roots of his hair. "No, no," he
protested. "I shall be all right in there. If you need me,
call out."
"Thank you, my friend," said the girl softly.
She slipped into the lower berth, drew up the covers
and smiled at him gratefully. He retreated into the
washroom.
Suddenly--it must have been a couple of hours later
--he thought he heard something. He listened--nothing.
Perhaps he had been mistaken. And yet it certainly
seemed to him that he had heard a faint sound from the
next carriage. Supposing--just supposing...
He opened the door softly. The compartment was as
THE CASE OF THE CITY CLERK
he had left it, with the tiny blue light in the ceiling.
stood there with his eyes straining through the dimn
till they got accustomed to it. He made out the out
of the berth.
He saw that it was empty. The girl was not there!
He switched the light full on. The compartment '
empty. Suddenly he sniffed. Just a whiff but he rec
nized it--the sweet, sickly odor of chloroform!
He stepped from the compartment (unlocked now,
noted) out into the corridor and looked up and down
Empty! His eyes fastened on the door next to the gir
She had said that Vassilievitch was in the next comp
merit. Gingerly Roberts tried the handle. The door
bolted on the inside.
What should he do? Demand admittance? But
man would refuse--and after all, the girl might not
there! And if she were, would she thank him for mak
a public business of the matter? He ha{l gathered t
secrecy was essential in the game they were playing.
A perturbed little man wandered slowly along the c.
ridor. He paused at the end compartment. The door v
open, and the conductor lay there sleeping. And abc
him, on a hook, hung his brown uniform coat a
peaked cap.
In a flash Roberts had decided on his course of
tion. In another minute he had donned the coat and ¢
and was hurrying back along the corridor. He stopF
at the door next to that of the girl, summoned all
resolution and knocked peremptorily.
When the summons was not answered, he knock
again.
"Monsieur," he said, in his best accent.
The door opened a little way and a head peer
out--the head of a foreigner, clean-shaven except
black mustache. It was an angry, malevolent face.
78
Agatha Christie
"Qu 'est-ce-qu 'ii y a ?" he snapped.
"Votre passeport, monsieur." Roberts stepped back
and beckoned.
The other hesitated, then stepped out into the cor-ridor.
Roberts had counted on his doing that. If he had
the girl inside, he naturally would not want the con-ductor
to come in. Like a flash, Roberts acted. With all
his force he shoved the foreigner aside--the man was
unprepared and the swaying of the train helped--bolted
into the carriage himself, shut the door and locked it.
Lying across the end of the berth was the girl, a gag
across her mouth and her wrists tied together. He freed
her quickly, and she fell against him with a sigh.
"I feel so weak and ill," she murmured. "It was
chloroform, I think. Did he--did he get them?"
"No." Roberts tapped his pocket. "What are we to
do now?" he asked.
The girl sat up. Her wits were returning. She took in
his costume.
"How clever of you. Fancy thinking of that! He said
he would kill me if I did not tell him where the jewels
were. I have been so afraid--and then you came." Sud-denly
she laughed. "But we have outwitted him! He will
not dare do anything. He cannot even try to get back
into his own compartment.
"We must stay here till morning. Probably he will
leave the train at Dijon; we are due to stop there in
about half an hour. He will telegraph to Paris and they
will pick up our trail there. In the meantime, you had
better throw that coat and cap out of the window. They
might get you into trouble."
Roberts obeyed.
"We must not sleep," the girl decided. "We must
stay on guard till morning."
It was a strange, exciting vigil. At six o'clock in the
morning, Roberts opened the door carefully and looked
THE CASE OF THE CITY CLERK
out. NO one was about. The girl slipped quickly into he
own compartment. Roberts followed her in. The plac
had clearly been ransacked. He regained his own cai
riage through the wash-room. His fellow traveler wa
still snoring.
They reached Paris at seven o'clock. The conductol
was declaiming at the loss of his coat and cap. He ha¢
not yet discovered the loss of a passenger.
Then began a most entertaining chase. The girl an
Roberts took taxi after taxi across Paris. They enterec
hotels and restaurants by one door and left them b.
another. At last the girl gave a sigh.
"I feel sure we are not followed now," she said. "W,
have shaken them off."
They breakfasted and drove to Le Bourget. Thre
hours later they were at Croydon. Roberts had neve
flown before.
At Croydon a tall old gentleman with a far-off re
semblance to Mr. Roberts' mentor at Geneva was wait
ing for them. He greeted the girl with especial respect.
"The car is here, madam," he said.
"This gentleman will accompany us, Paul," said
girl. And to Roberts: "Count Paul Stepanyi."
The car was a vast limousine. They drove for abou
l
an hour, then they entered the grounds of a countr
house and pulled up at the door of an imposing man.
sion. Mr. Roberts was taken to a room furnished as
study. There he handed over the precious pair of stockings.
He was left alone for a while. Presently Coun
Stepanyi returned.
"Mr. Roberts," he said, "our thanks and gratitud
are due to you. You have proved yourself a brave and
resourceful man." He held out a red morocco case
"Permit me to confer upon you the Order of St. Stanis.
laus--tenth class with laurels."
As in a dream Roberts opened the case and looked al
80
Agatha Christie
the jeweled order. The old gentleman was still speaking.
"The Grand Duchess Olga would like to thank you
herself before you depart."
He was led to a big drawing-room. There, very beau-tiful
in a flowing robe, stood his traveling companion.
She made an imperious gesture of the hand, and the
other man left them.
"I owe you my life, Mr. Roberts," said the grand
duchess.
She held out her hand. Roberts kissed it. She leaned
suddenly towards him.
"You are a brave man," she said.
His lips met hers; a waft of rich Oriental perfume sur-rounded
him. For a moment he held that slender,
beautiful form in his arms ....
He was still in a dream when somebody said to him:
AgathaChristie-ParkerPineDetective Page 9
