Presently she rose and, crossing to the window, looked out on to the park.
‘I wonder why Hugh is so keen on going to India,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t believe he has given up his work at the Foreign Office, he is too fond of it.’ She sighed. ‘I wish I knew what is behind it all.’
CHAPTER THREE
An Interview and a Chase
Prompt to the minute, Hugh walked into the Savoy Hotel, and asked to see Mr Mahommed Abdullah. Apparently he was expected, for he was at once directed to a lounge, where a dark-visaged man of rather less than medium height, dressed in a suit of some grey material, rose from the depths of an armchair to greet him. Obviously an Indian, the man appeared to be about fifty years of age, his hair was thinning on top and grey at the temples, while he had a slight stoop, which seemed to denote the scholar. In fact his whole bearing was that of a man who had devoted a great part of his life to study. He greeted Hugh with great politeness and, taking him by the arm, led him to a chair which he pulled up close to his own.
‘I am very glad to make your acquaintance, Captain Shannon,’ he said, as he sank into his seat, ‘and I congratulate you on your punctuality. Being a very busy man, I am naturally jealous of every wasted moment. I still have to interview four applicants for this post before six o’clock.’
‘Then you have had a good many replies to your advertisement?’ inquired Hugh.
‘Sixty-eight to be exact,’ replied the other, who spoke perfect English, without any trace of accent. ‘Of course a good many were unsuitable, but I have arranged to interview ten; you are the sixth.’
‘I hope you have not decided upon your man yet,’ smiled Hugh.
‘I have not! To be quite honest your application was the one which impressed me more than any others, and I hope that you will eventually be my choice.’
‘That is entirely in your hands, sir.’
Abdullah bowed.
‘I must tell you the circumstances,’ he said. ‘Sheranwala College, which is a Muslim institution affiliated to the University of Northern India, has not been upholding Mahommedan traditions. The governing body has, therefore, invited me to return to India, and take over the Principalship in the hope that I may be able to raise the College to the position it once held. For some time I hesitated, as I had fully made up my mind to settle down in this country for good. However, I was eventually persuaded to accept. I have been empowered to engage a first-class Englishman as Professor of English, and thus my advertisement. I may tell you that I desire the man I select to act as vice-principal and in fact to be my right hand man and general aide-de-camp. The salary is not large, of course, and I fear that most Englishmen would find it difficult to live on 500 rupees a month – Are you married?’
‘No; but I have a sister who will accompany me if I am selected.’
‘H’m! You have no private means, I suppose?’
‘I have enough to keep us, but it seems to me, sir, that in making an appointment of this nature, the authorities should be willing to pay an adequate salary.’
‘I quite agree with you, and I think I can promise to persuade them to make an increase, which will more than meet your needs. Now for your qualifications …’
For the next twenty minutes Abdullah was engaged in questioning Hugh closely about his school and college career, during which the latter discovered that the new Principal of Sheranwala College was a man of very deep learning. He had taken his Master of Arts degree at Cambridge, was a barrister, a retired financial commissioner, and an eminent economist. At the end of the interview Shannon had acquired a deep respect for the quiet-mannered little man, who had proved himself such an adept in questioning him.
‘Well I must say, Captain Shannon,’ remarked Abdullah, ‘that you meet our requirements in every respect, and I am now practically certain that you will be my choice, but, of course, you understand that I cannot say definitely until I have interviewed the remaining candidates.’
‘Certainly,’ replied Hugh.
‘In the event of your being appointed, a sum of seventy pounds will be placed at your disposal for travelling expenses. I am afraid that we cannot very well make any allowance for your sister.’
‘No, I suppose not,’ said Hugh. ‘It is hardly to be expected, is it?’
A few minutes later they parted, Abdullah escorting Hugh to the door of the lounge, where they shook hands. The latter made his way out of the hotel, and, declining the offer of a taxi-driver to take him ‘anywhere’, he strolled westwards feeling rather perturbed than otherwise at the success which seemed about to crown his application.
In spite of his high academical qualifications, it struck him that he was hardly the man to attempt to lecture on English literature to a collection of Muslim youths, when all his instincts, all his ambitions, were centred on his own job. However, it was the Chief’s wish and, after all, the appointment as a professor in a college was only a means to an end, and a very great and responsible end as far as Hugh was concerned. He looked forward to his work in India, but it was to his own particular work under the Intelligence Department, not the superficial duties of a member of the staff of Sheranwala College.
He had reached Trafalgar Square, and was turning in the direction of Whitehall, when he almost bumped into a little, sallow-faced man, with shifty eyes and a nose of a decidedly Semitic cast. With a muttered curse the little man skipped out of his way and dived across the road, but with an exclamation of surprise Hugh had recognised him, and without hesitation followed him. The Jew, with the activity of an eel, headed for St Martin’s Lane. Shannon, being big and burly, found it more difficult to get along, but he made fairly rapid headway, much to the resentment of the people he unceremoniously bundled out of his path. The chase went on past the Coliseum, then with a malignant backward glance, the little man turned into a small tea shop. Hugh was only a few seconds behind him, but when he entered the shop there was not a sign of his quarry, the place being occupied only by a couple of tired-looking waitresses, a man with a badly shaved jaw, obviously one of the many down-at-heel actors, who infest that part of London, and a fat old woman, just as obviously up from the country.
Hugh dashed by the tea room, and ran up a dingy flight of stairs. He found two or three offices, whose occupants stared at him in surprise, but to his enquiries they all declared that they had not seen anybody even resembling the man he was after. The same negative result awaited him on the other two floors and although he made a careful search – much to the indignation of the people he met, who naturally resented his headlong intrusion into their privacy – he was compelled to descend to the ground floor a puzzled and disappointed man.
‘Did you see a little, dark man – a Jew – enter this building?’ he asked the waitresses.
One of them giggled, while the other looked him up and down in a supercilious manner.
‘Do you think we have time to see everybody who comes in that door?’ she asked.
Hugh grinned.
‘No, I suppose not,’ he said, ‘still you might have noticed him.’
‘Well, we didn’t, so there!’ she snapped.
‘Pardon me, sir!’ said a deep voice, and Hugh swung round to confront the actor-looking person who, with a spoon in one hand and a piece of bread in the other, rose majestically to his feet. ‘I may say that I saw a rather insignificant specimen of the genus man,’ went on this individual. ‘He rushed by that door as though he were being chased.’ He indicated the direction in a lordly manner with the piece of bread.
‘Thanks!’ said Hugh. He turned again to the waitresses. ‘Where does that passage lead to?’ he asked.
‘Down to the kitchen, if you want to know,’ replied the supercilious one.
Hugh ran along the passage, and was about to turn down the stairs, when he noticed a wide-open window. He looked out on to a dirty little yard enclosed by a low brick wall, and groaned. His man had obviously gone that way; had climbed over the wall and disappeared down a lane, which Hugh knew must be somew
here about there, and which went down past Charing Cross Hospital.
‘Hang it all!’ he muttered. ‘What a fool I was to let him get away.’
He retraced his steps and, entering the tea room, ordered some tea and toast.
‘The least I can do after causing you this bother,’ he said, ‘is to sample your tea.’
‘Trying to be funny?’ asked the snappy waitress.
‘No,’ replied Hugh; ‘merely polite.’
She snorted, and went to give his order.
‘Sir,’ said the actor, ‘I fear you have failed in your quest. If I am not mistaken you are a detective in chase of a notorious criminal.’
‘Something like that,’ said Hugh cheerfully.
‘May I enquire who it was that you were after?’
‘Only one of the most dangerous men in London.’ And thereafter Hugh refused to be drawn further.
He drank his tea and ate his toast, watched by the occupants of the room with awe. Even the girl whose object in life seemed to be to treat others as rudely as she could, appeared almost to form a respect for him, though she remarked that her brother was a proper policeman and she could not see what they wanted to have these gentlemen upstarts in the force for.
Hugh bowed solemnly before taking his departure.
‘I am sorry I am such an upstart,’ he remarked with mock humility. ‘Please try to think a little better of me!’
Thereupon he gave her a tip, which made her blink, and strolled out of the shop. A tall, thin man, smartly clad in a brown suit, was standing on the curb. As Hugh came out he turned and, putting his arm through the other’s, strolled along with him.
‘Hallo, Spencer!’ exclaimed Shannon. ‘Where did you spring from and why the affection?’
‘I saw you dive into that place as though you were chasing the devil,’ replied Detective Inspector Spencer of the Special Branch of New Scotland Yard, ‘so I waited for results.’
‘There are no results,’ said Hugh sadly. ‘I lost my man. It wasn’t the devil either, though it was one of his most dangerous myrmidons.’
‘You intrigue me!’ murmured Spencer.
‘It was Kamper!’
The detective stood still and looked solemnly at Hugh.
‘Are you sure?’ he demanded.
‘Certain! I chased him from Trafalgar Square. The worst of it is that he almost bumped into me there, and if I hadn’t been day-dreaming, I would have had him.’
‘Moral: don’t day-dream!’ said Spencer. ‘But I can’t think how the little blighter got back to England. Why we saw him snugly off for Russia on board the Druid only ten days ago.’
‘Nevertheless he is back.’
They walked on together, each deep in his own thoughts.
‘Why didn’t you nab him in that building?’ asked Spencer suddenly.
Hugh hesitated a moment before replying, then:
‘I searched the top of the place, where I naturally thought he had gone—’
‘While he ran straight on I suppose, climbed through a window, over a wall, and dropped into Somers Lane!’
‘How do you know?’
‘This district is a pretty open book to me. I wish I had been with you, or had followed you in.’
‘I wish you had. No use searching the lane I suppose?’
‘Not a bit. Kamper is in a taxi by now, tearing down towards the East End. Well, we know he’s back, and that’s something. I’ll get straight down to the Yard, and warn them. Coming that way?’
Hugh nodded, and the two strolled down Whitehall. They parted near the Foreign Office, Hugh turning into the building which housed the mighty organisation of the department, which most people did not know existed, the British Secret Service, while Spencer continued on his way to Scotland Yard.
The Inspector went straight to his own office, and sat down before his desk.
‘I wonder how the devil Kamper came back,’ he muttered, ‘and why?’
CHAPTER FOUR
Confidences
Two days later Hugh received a long letter from Mahommed Abdullah appointing him to the post of Professor of English Literature of Sheranwala College, and asking him to make arrangements to leave for India as soon as possible. Abdullah himself was leaving practically at once, and hoped that Captain Shannon would not be long behind him. He added that a sum of seventy pounds would be immediately placed to Hugh’s credit in Grindlay’s Bank, and expressed his satisfaction that he would have the assistance of such an able man to help him build up the fortunes of Muslim education in Northern India.
Hugh passed the letter across to Joan with a smile. She read it with great seriousness, and then looked at her brother.
‘I suppose I must congratulate you, Hugh,’ she said; ‘but please tell me why you are doing this!’
‘I have already told you that I want to get back to India, and this job rather appealed to me.’
‘Is there no other reason?’
He hesitated a moment before replying.
‘No!’ he said.
She regarded him searchingly.
‘You are not telling me the truth,’ she said seriously. ‘I don’t see why you shouldn’t take me into your confidence: it cannot be because you are ashamed of something.’
He smiled across the breakfast table at her.
‘I can’t understand why you should think I have any other reasons,’ he said. ‘You say yourself that I cannot find anything to do at the Foreign Office. Isn’t it likely that I want to go somewhere, where I shall find something to do?’
She rose, and, coming round to his side of the table, put her hands on his shoulders.
‘I suppose you have your reasons,’ she said, ‘and perhaps you cannot divulge them, even to me. But I want to know that you are doing nothing to be ashamed of.’
He stood up and looked straight into her eyes.
‘No, Joan,’ he said; ‘there is no shame attached to what I am going to do – rather the reverse.’
‘Well, I won’t be inquisitive any more,’ she declared. ‘Now I suppose I must commence to get ready my outfit. What are you going to do?’
‘There is so much that I really don’t know where to begin,’ he said. ‘I must write first of all and accept the appointment, then I shall have to explain things at the Foreign Office, order my kit, collect the money from Grindlays, and – oh, a host of other things, including the booking of our passage.’
‘When shall we leave?’
‘The end of next week, if you can be ready by then, and we can get a boat.’
‘Oh, dear! What terribly short notice! Still I’ll see what can be done.’
She ran off, and in five minutes had turned the usually well-ordered flat into a scene of bustle. Hugh went out, and jumping into a taxi was driven to Whitehall. He found that the Deputy Chief had already arrived, and he asked for an interview, which was immediately granted.
Major Brien was standing on the hearthrug of his cosy office, when Hugh entered.
‘Morning, Shannon!’ he nodded. ‘Sit down! Everything fixed up, I suppose?’
‘Yes, sir!’ said Hugh. ‘I received the letter appointing me this morning.’ He handed it to the other, who read it through without any comment, before passing it back.
‘Well, there is nothing to delay you, is there?’ he asked.
‘No, sir!’
‘When do you think you can get away?’
‘By the end of next week, if I am lucky enough to get a couple of berths.’
‘Why a couple?’
‘My sister is coming with me, sir.’
‘Oh, is she? I’m glad to hear that, Shannon. If I were you, though, I should not take her into my confidence more than is absolutely necessary. I am sure that Miss Shannon is entirely reliable, but in a case like this the fewer in the know the better.’
‘She hasn’t the vaguest idea what the real reason for my taking this appointment is. As a matter of fact, sir, she does not even know that I am in the Secret Service.’
‘No, sir!’
‘Well, you’re a funny fellow! And you think she does not know?’
‘I’m sure of it!’
The Deputy Chief smiled.
‘If I were you,’ he said after a pause, ‘I should tell her. Something is bound to happen sooner or later which will rouse her suspicions, and ignorance is rather apt to breed unhappiness, more especially as I know you are very attached to each other.’
‘I let her think that I was still at the Foreign Office, sir. I thought it better not to tell her that I was attached to this department.’
‘How has she regarded your sudden disappearances from home?’
‘She has always thought that I went away on some duty connected with the Foreign Office.’
Major Brien shook his head.
‘Not good enough,’ he remarked. ‘No; I think you should tell her – You don’t want to go into details, of course, and in the present case just let her know that your work in India is partly connected with the Intelligence Department and that is all. You’ll have her full confidence and trust then, and you may find that a day will come when her woman’s wit may be of great use to you. I never did believe in being too secretive, and I know the Chief’s ideas are the same as mine.’
‘I have always acted on the saying, sir, that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.’
‘No knowledge at all is sometimes apt to be more dangerous. There is another reason, too, why it is necessary that she should know a little. Sir Leonard has decided to send out Cousins with you.’
Hugh looked surprised.
‘Won’t that rather give things away?’ he asked.
‘Not a bit! Why should it? Isn’t it very natural that your valet who has been with you for years should accompany you, especially as you prefer having an English servant to an Indian?’
Devil's Cocktail (Wallace of the Secret Service Series) Page 2
