Chapter One

Dr. Palfrey Forsees Difficulties

Palfrey’s right hand strayed to his forehead, and he began to twist a few strands of his light brown hair around his finger. He was sitting back in a large armchair, his long legs stretched out, and a cigarette burning low in a holder.

In front of him the Marquis of Brett sat at a wide, flat-topped mahogany desk, so highly polished that it reflected the silver inkstand, a blotting-pad with silver corners, a telephone and Brett’s thin, veined hands, the fingers of which were resting lightly on the desk.

Palfrey pulled the strands of hair straight up from his forehead, and broke the silence.

‘One great difficulty which I foresee is that I don’t know a word of Japanese,’ he said. ‘Nor does Stefan.’

‘Your German is fluent,’ Brett pointed out, ‘and you will probably be able to fall back on broken English. A surprising number of Japanese can speak English, and most Germans have a smattering. In any case, your guide can act as an interpreter.’

‘I don’t know that I would like to trust an interpreter,’ objected Palfrey.

‘Orishu is quite trustworthy. What you mean is that you don’t want to go to Japan,’ said Brett, bluntly.

‘I certainly do not!’ Palfrey released his hair and patted it down. His forehead was broad and his blue eyes were large, but their expression was a little vague, in spite of his sudden animation.

‘I can think of nothing I want to do less than go to the Land of the Rising Sun. I know I asked for something to do,’ he added reproachfully, ‘but I didn’t dream of a proposition like this. I don’t like any of it. I don’t particularly want to be in Tokyo when the Americans reach there. Between you and me,’ he added warmly, ‘I have had my share of being bombed, too. Iron nerves at breaking point, and all that.’

Brett smiled.

‘All right, Sap! I didn’t think you’d like the suggestion and I didn’t hold out any hope that you would accept, but I had to try. When are you and Drusilla going to get married?’

‘That’s another of the difficulties,’ said Palfrey. ‘We hoped to sneak off one day this summer and commit the fell deed. If I go to Japan there won’t be more than one chance in two of my returning.’ He looked up: ‘That’s about right, isn’t it?’

‘About,’ admitted Brett, ‘and that’s why I was hesitant about asking you to take the job. Forget it, Sap!’

‘I dislike the ingenuous expression in your eyes,’ Palfrey informed him. ‘When does the excursion start?’

‘It should start next week.’

‘How long can I have to decide?’

‘Forty-eight hours,’ said Brett, abruptly. He took a small envelope from a drawer in his desk and handed it over. ‘You might like to take this to reflect upon.’

Palfrey had a solitary lunch at his club, choosing a corner where he was not likely to be seen, for he did not feel like indulging in small-talk. He felt wretched because Brett had chosen to put the proposition to him at a time when Drusilla Blair was out of London. True, she was due to meet him at Claridges for tea, but the three hours until four o’clock stretched like a limitless vista in front of him, and he knew that he would not be able to think about anything except Brett’s suggestion. He did not feel any happier because it was partly his own fault. Goaded by a conscience which Drusilla and his friends said would one day be the death of him, he had asked Brett whether there were any little jobs he could do in the next few weeks.

‘Weeks,’ he told himself now. ‘Not months, confound him!’

Few of the members of the Carilon Club knew the truth about him, although many knew that he was a doctor of considerable reputation, and that he had visited parts of Occupied Europe, during the war, to try to save the lives of important members of the resistance movement. Thus, at all events, the newspapers had declared only a few weeks before, when his photograph had appeared on the front pages of the picture papers, and a highly coloured story had brought him a few days of intensely disliked notoriety.

The truth was very different; he had helped to save the lives of men and women who were now playing important parts in the rebuilding of their countries, but he had also led a little band of people through some of the most dangerous and hair-raising adventures, both in Europe and Africa. Of the original members of that party, which consisted of representatives from Russia and Washington as well as Drusilla, Brian Debenham and himself, only three were left fit for further work. Alec Conroy, the American, had been killed near Algiers; Debenham had lost an arm and was not yet fully recovered from a Scandinavian ordeal; and others had been lost to them. Of the old guard, only Stefan Andromovitch and he would be able to go to Japan, for this was certainly no task for Drusilla.

He spent the afternoon in the almost deserted smoking-room, looking through the contents of the envelope Brett had given him. They only confirmed what Brett had told him. At half past three he went to Claridges and waited near the entrance until, at two minutes to four, a taxi pulled up and he saw Drusilla’s face at the window. Drusilla was one of the few women of his acquaintance who looked graceful even when she was getting out of a taxi, and that was the more remarkable because she was nearly as tall as he.

She wore a flowered silk dress and a wide-brimmed straw hat trimmed with the same material.

Half and hour later he led the way into his Wimpole Street flat. His name was still on a brass plate on the street door, but he had long since stopped practising in England.

‘Sweet—that smiling, cunning, unlovable creature whom we know as the Marquis of Brett wants me to go to Japan.’

‘Sap, don’t joke!’ Drusilla protested.

‘I sometimes wish I had not been christened Stanislaus Alexander,’ said Palfrey. ‘I know that S A P spells Sap, but it’s getting to be something of a boomerang. If you call me Sap often enough I shall have softening of the brain, and accept—that appears to be Brett’s modus operandi this time. He actually told me that I would be a fool if I accepted, and made it clear that he thought I was that kind of a fool.’

Drusilla did not smile, and the healthy glow on her cheeks could not hide their pallor. Yet all she said was, ‘Why on earth does he want you to go there?’

‘That’s the rub.’ Palfrey shrugged. ‘There’s a good reason. Japan, fair island of everlasting blight, offers attractions to certain gentlemen of whom we have heard. German gentlemen, that is. No one quite knows how they’ve managed it, but several members of the Nazi hierarchy have fled to Japan. We want them all, alive-oh!’

‘But when Japan’s beaten—’

‘—They’ll obviously try to arrange for as many men as possible to escape the misguided Allied desire for justice and retribution. We—you and I, my darling—have spent a lot of time in Europe trying to dig out Nazis who thought they were safe for life, and by the grace of God we prized some out of their fastnesses. Yes, we’ve done things like this before, and someone will have to keep on doing them. There’s no argument about that, is there?’

‘No,’ Drusilla agreed quietly.

‘If that isn’t enough, there are other good reasons for an expedition to Japan,’ went on Palfrey. ‘They have toddled off with a substantial part of the treasures of the countries they overran. The sum total is fantastic. Jewels taken from every temple in Burma, Malaya, Indo-China and all like homelands have been looted, but they’re still in existence and only the Japs know where.’

Drusilla said: ‘You’re going, aren’t you?’

‘I haven’t said so.’ Palfrey frowned. ‘I didn’t know about it until this morning, and it rather knocked me sideways. How ever, I’m trying to face the facts. The facts are that a large number of Germans remain loose in Europe and that the idea of preparing for another war of world domination is not, to their minds, fantastic. It isn’t fantastic to the Japanese, either. After the accursed accumulation of horrors we’ve witnessed in the past few years, any man with any kind of conscience must—’

‘Your conscience!’ exclaimed Drusilla. The words seemed to be wrung from her.

‘I’m really sorry about it,’ said Palfrey, soberly. ‘The trouble is, it won’t lie down. The question I’ve got to try to answer within the next forty-three hours is whether by accepting I can, perhaps, put a few more nails in the coffin of world domination. Don’t tell me that it’s dead and buried. Only the mentally deficient will ever believe that, until we have had the experience of a few decades of peace untroubled by rumours of war. Too many powerful individuals, clever, unscrupulous, and possessed of quite diabolical cunning, are loose in the world, and Brett has an assurance from Moscow that many of them are in Japan, or else are passing through. Moscow is still at peace with Japan, and knows more about what’s happening there than we do. Can I spike a few wheels?’

Drusilla, whose colour was back, said nothing, but leaned forward and took a cigarette.

‘I’ve managed to in the past, with luck,’ murmured Palfrey. ‘There’s no good reason why I shouldn’t do so again. There’s no legitimate reason why I should refuse to try. Any man who puts his personal longings—and God knows how I long to marry you and settle down, my darling!—before the common good is stoking up a nice warm fire in the nether regions for himself.’

He slid forward in his chair until he was on one knee in front of Drusilla. He took her hands in his and looked up into her eyes. ‘Darling,’ he said, ‘I am the complete coward. I don’t want to go. The thought of it frightens me. The thought of having to make a decision is a nightmare, and I don’t even want to decide. Decide for me, will you?’

The room was very quiet.

In Drusilla’s eyes were tears which she did not try to blink away. Her pressure on his hands was very tight, and seemed to grow tighter. She was breathing heavily, and looking down at him, as if she wanted to have a vivid picture of every feature of that beloved face. As he looked at her, knowing what she was going through, she had never seemed more lovely nor more desirable. Her lips were parted and quivering slightly, and twice she tried to speak, but the words would not come.

Palfrey broke the silence very gently.

‘So your conscience is as troublesome as mine?’

‘Sap …’ Drusilla’s voice trailed off, and he kept silent. When at last she spoke again her voice was sharper. ‘I thought all the danger was over, and if any man deserves a rest from it, you do. I came back thinking that we could begin to settle down, to lead a natural life—I think I hate the Marquis!’

After another long pause, she added quietly: ‘If you go. I shall go.’

‘Now, ’Silla—’

‘Presumably you will be going to Japan under the guise of a German refugee,’ said Drusilla, ‘and there must be some Nazis who would be loyal enough to take their wives with them. And, what is more,’ she went on, ‘I am not going to traipse about Japan or any part of the Far East as your fiancée! When are you leaving?’

‘The Marquis says I would need to start within a week. But, ’Silla—’

‘Look here.’ Drusilla tightened her grip still further: ‘I have been abroad with you before and I have worked abroad on my own. I am not a sweet innocent. Nothing the Japanese can show me in the way of horrors can outdo what I have seen in Europe. Everything you have said applies to me as much as to you. I hate the thought of going, but I won’t let you go alone.’

Silence fell again, and when she broke it there was a note of urgency in her voice. ‘Sap, say something! Don’t look at me like that, say something now!’

‘It’s so difficult to know what to say,’ said Palfrey. ‘You’re quite right. We could get married and travel as man and wife. I won’t insult you by saying you would be in the way. The fact remains that you might sometimes be left on your own, and the Japanese aren’t renowned for their chivalry towards European women. They will have the upper hand; we shall, as German refugees, be dependent on their goodwill. They may extract a high price.’ He paused, then added: ‘Facts. We can’t blink at them.’

‘I shall not let you go alone, if I can help it,’ said Drusilla. ‘That’s final, Sap.’

It was useless to say that Brett might object; it was not likely that he would forbid Drusilla to make the journey if she were really bent on going. It was a fact, too, that she might become a valuable addition to the ranks of the party which would set out.

Palfrey released her hands, and stood up.

‘I feel as if I’ve been run over by a tank,’ he said. ‘I suppose you know that if we go to see the Marquis he’ll give us his blessing? There’s no point in thinking that we may have found a way of outwitting him.’

‘I don’t want to find a way,’ said Drusilla. ‘I—Sap!’

‘H’mm?’

‘Do you know that we’ve decided to get married this week?’

‘Have we got quite so far as that?’ asked Palfrey, and then as she stood up he swept her into his arms.

Soon they were laughing and their eyes were filled with excitement; and before long Palfrey was on the telephone to the Marquis of Brett. He had made no mistake about Brett’s reaction.

They were to travel by a devious route to China and fly in a Nazi aircraft to Japan. In Japan, they would rely on their German papers to ensure a sympathetic welcome – as well as the jewels they would take with them. For the reports which Brett, as chief of Z.5, had received about the German refugees now going in increasing numbers to Japan, suggested that only those who could pay for their safety were likely to get it. The chief difficulty was to provide themselves with false identities which would pass the Japanese authorities, and with this problem Palfrey wrestled as he ploughed a way through the countless little problems in connection with the wedding.

Two days after the decision had been reached, Drusilla came in from shopping and found him sitting back with his legs crossed and the smoke from a cigarette curling into his eye, his holder neglected.

‘Well!’ she exclaimed.

Thoughts,’ said Palfrey, hastily. ‘Deep thoughts, demanding the utmost concentration. What have you bought?’

‘Nothing to help you concentrate,’ said Drusilla. ‘Shrew! Can you tell me,’ he demanded ‘why on earth the Marquis insisted on this reception and a wedding with all the furbelows? He’s been so decent about it that I hadn’t the heart to insist on a registrar’s office and a quiet coffee and bun afterwards, but why on earth we are burdened with all this as well as preparing for the eternal, I don’t know.’

‘It’s a funny thing.’ Drusilla sat down: ‘but I’ve been wondering about that, too. This afternoon I’ve been to the dressmaker’s to have a white dress altered for me, and the Marquis came in, full of eager solicitude. Just a little too full, I thought. I wonder if he knew that this would happen, if he really wanted us both to go.’ ‘Oh, he’d hardly go that far.’

‘I’m not so sure,’ said Drusilla. ‘He’s a pet, but I think he would sacrifice his best friend if he thought that it was going to help. Don’t you agree?’

‘I do, but I don’t see how a big wedding is going to make any difference. He—’ Palfrey stopped short. ‘Don’t I though!’ he gasped. ‘Don’t I? ’Silla, that man has Richelieu beaten to a frazzle! I saw a paragraph—’ He hurried across the room and seized The Times, spread it out on the table and turned over the pages. Drusilla stood beside him. ‘There!’ cried Palfrey. And I thought it was a piece of unintelligent guesswork on the part of the social editor. Listen!

‘We understand that Dr. Alexander Palfrey, whose marriage to Miss Drusilla Blair will take place on Thursday, will revisit the scene of a war-time mission on the Italian Riviera, for their honeymoon, which will be indefinite.’

Palfrey shook his head in admiration. ‘The old fox! That will be read in Tokyo before we leave. Any suspicion that might have been aroused by our joint absence from London, at this time, will receive its congé. I’ll bet you that the Marquis wanted a big show so that word of it would get down under. I wonder if they’ve put this out on the radio at all?’

‘They’d never put social chat on the radio,’ Drusilla objected. ‘I’m not so sure,’ said Palfrey.

Later, he went to the offices of the Daily Cry, where certain members of the staff listened to all broadcasts from home stations under the title of the Radio Research Department. Any doubts he had of Brett’s manoeuvre were dissipated when he saw the broad beam on the face of one of his friends there.

‘You are becoming headline news, Sap,’ that worthy said; ‘they’ve even thought it worth while putting a note about you on the European News Service.’

‘Only European?’ asked Palfrey, hopefully.

‘Don’t say you want to let it go round the whole world,’ said his friend, ‘or I’ll think it’s gone to your head.’

‘I just wanted to know exactly what I have to complain about,’ said Palfrey. ‘Not even a honeymoon is sacred—I thought better of the B.B.C.

He was smiling as he left, but the smile faded as he strolled along Fleet Street. He was prepared to admit that the manoeuvre was justified, and by restricting it to the European Service Brett had made sure that it would only reach Japan indirectly. On the other hand, was it wise to emphasise that he and Drusilla would be out of the country? Brett rarely made mistakes, but he might have been carried away by his enthusiasm for this project.

Palfrey knew how thorough were the preparations for the journey. Brett would leave nothing undone. All their clothes and their luggage would be German, the markings on their clothes would have the initials relative to their assumed names. They would learn by heart the ‘route’ by which they were supposed to travel from Germany itself, and ahead of them would go the information that they had escaped and were on the way to Japan. Yet he was not too happy.

The Japanese had pulled some incredible howlers in the course of their extensive espionage work, but they had a passion for detail, not unlike that of the Germans. Photographs of Palfrey and all those who had worked with him in the past would be in Tokyo, with a full list of habits, appearances, and general information. If suspicion were aroused, the danger would become acute.

Then an idea flashed through his mind, and he looked round for a taxi. Within a few minutes, he was speeding towards the London offices of the War Crimes Commission. He was well known there and if his manner caused a stir, no time was lost in taking him to the Photograph Files section. There were thousands of photographs all neatly filed in steel cabinets, and he had no idea where to start looking. He only knew that he wanted to find a German on the books of the Commission who did not look unlike himself.

After two hours of fruitless searching, he telephoned Drusilla.

‘Darling, where have you been?’ she demanded, distractedly. ‘I—’

‘Drop everything you’re doing and come here,’ Palfrey urged. ‘I think I’ve found a way of making the odds a bit easier. Rush, darling!’

‘But I don’t know where you are!’

‘Oh, I’m going really crazy,’ said Palfrey, and told her.

He wanted a respite from the photographs of Germans and Italians, Bulgarians, Romanians and Finns. And another idea, resulting from the first, made him hurry out of the room and into the larger general office, where fifty men and women were working. In one corner, at a large desk, was a very small elderly man – with a photographic memory. He was reputed to know more Germans by name than anyone else in England. He looked up at Palfrey with a tight-lipped smile.

‘I thought perhaps you would ask me to help you, Doctor!’

‘I was an ass not to have thought of it before,’ confessed Palfrey. ‘Can you show me the photographs of all Nazies over six feet five in height?’

‘Six feet five!’

‘Yes,’ said Palfrey. ‘There can’t be many of them, but—’

‘I will see what I can do.’ The little man looked disappointed. ‘How quickly do you want the information?’

‘Within twenty-four hours,’ said Palfrey.

‘Oh, that will be easy,’ he was assured.

By the time Drusilla arrived, Palfrey was again at work with the photographs, and the little man was in one corner, casting occasional glances towards him. The filing-room was large and Palfrey was able to whisper to Drusilla what he wanted.

‘But why?’ asked Drusilla. ‘You aren’t likely to find a man who looks just like you.’

‘We can’t expect miracles, a rough likeness will do.’

‘I don’t see—’

‘Listen, angel,’ said Palfrey, with a broad smile. ‘If we can find a notorious Nazi who might be mistaken for me, I can masquerade as that gentleman. Then, in that far, far distant land, I can say that, disguised as Dr. Palfrey, I made my way through Allied occupied countries. That’s the answer to “How did you get here?” and also the answer to “You look like Dr. Palfrey, of ill fame.” I’m asking our little friend, there, to find us a Nazi of a size with Stefan, too. Satisfied?’

‘We must find one!’ Drusilla was suddenly excited. ‘Where shall I look?’

Chapter Two

New Delhi

Palfrey lay in the pleasant state between waking and sleeping. Drusilla had slipped down in bed and only her nose, eyes and forehead showed above the sheet, with her dark hair, untidy and adorable, on her pillow. Palfrey could hear her soft breathing. Now and again he looked at her, and a beatific smile curved his lips. Hazy thoughts passed through his mind.

The wedding, the Wedding March, sweet-voiced boys in the full church-choir, the soft voice of the dean who had performed the ceremony, his own voice saying ‘I will’; and Drusilla’s, quiet and husky; the reception which was crowded beyond his expectations, the smile on Brett’s face – and then the hurried journey to Euston, from where they were supposed to be travelling before they left England, and a quick journey back from London to this sleepy hotel in Kingston for a precious weekend.

This was Sunday; next day they were to leave on the first stage of their journey.

Drusilla stirred, and after a moment, sleepily pushed the sheet away from her chin. She blinked. Palfrey smiled at her until she opened one eye, hesitantly.

‘Have you been awake long?’

‘I haven’t slept a wink,’ said Palfrey, untruthfully; ‘I couldn’t, for thinking of you.’

‘You darling liar.’ She edged towards him. ‘Dreams,’ she said. ‘Dreams.’ After a while, she asked, lazily: ‘What time is it?’

‘I don’t know and I don’t care.’ Palfrey ran his fingers through her hair. ‘I’ve always heard it said that you shouldn’t marry a woman until you’ve seen her first thing in the morning.’

‘Will I do?’

He laughed. ‘Do you remember in Berlin, when—’

The words broke the spell of their enchantment and reminded them of the morrow. It did not lessen their contentment, but it made them thoughtful for a few minutes then, and at intervals during the day.

There was a final session with Brett the following morning. Drusilla was wearing a two-piece suit of severe cut and German material, and Palfrey wore good quality German flannels. Two light fibre cases, crammed full, were already at the airfield. Now and again, Drusilla fingered the platinum ring on her finger and smiled, but she looked steadily at Brett. Palfrey seemed to have forgotten that a dream had come true – as if it had really been a dream, and they were now facing reality. In a way, he felt like that.

‘I’d like to clear up one or two misapprehensions first,’ Brett was saying with a smile. ‘I did not bargain for Drusilla going with you, but, all things considered, I think it wise. She would only eat her heart out if she were to stay at home, and you would find her on your mind, Sap.’ He smiled.

‘Now you will want to know exactly what has been prepared for you. Information has been sent through Orishu to Tokyo that Colonel Baron Karl von Klieb and his wife escaped from Germany three weeks ago, and are trying to reach Japan by air. We don’t know the routes which the Germans would take and we don’t know where they refuel – they have a string of refuelling stations on the route, and that’s one of the things we hope you’ll be able to find out. As you are von Klieb but masquerading as Palfrey, you won’t need to know where those places are. On the strength of being Palfrey, you will get as far as Chunking in Allied aircraft – and you’ll make your way from Chunking to Japan with Orishu’s help – officially you’ll meet him by accident outside Chunking, but actually you’ll find him waiting for you at Delhi.’

‘New Delhi?’ asked Palfrey.

‘No, the old city. Japanese in New Delhi would be too conspicuous. You’ll find him at the shop of Amsa the Tailor, the best-known Indian tailor in Delhi. You’ll ask Amsa to make you a copy of your suit, Sap, and under the collar of the suit you leave with him you’ll put three stitches in green cotton. Can you manage that, ’Silla?’

‘I’m taking some darning silks,’ said Drusilla. ‘I’ll manage it all right.’

‘Nicely melodramatic,’ murmured Palfrey.

‘You’re the last man to scoff at melodrama.’ Brett smiled again. ‘By the time you get back you should have a remarkable story to tell me! Now listen carefully, because this is extremely important. Orishu will send a message telling you to meet him at Amsa’s after dark, and the time will be 8.59. If the message gives a different time, don’t go, but wait at your hotel—the airport hotel—until you get a message from Orishu quoting that time. If you don’t get it within three days, come through to me by radio-telephone.’

‘That’s clear enough,’ Palfrey nodded.

‘I don’t expect any trouble in Delhi,’ said Brett, ‘but we want to make as sure as possible that nothing goes wrong. I will give you photographs of Orishu, profile and full-face. But as you’re not familiar with the Japanese, it may not help you much—they look surprisingly alike, unless you’re used to seeing them regularly. Orishu is a painstaking fellow and he has adopted two marks by which you can identify him. There will be a streak of grey in his hair, on the right—his right—side of the parting, about a quarter of an inch wide.’

‘His right side,’ murmured Palfrey.

‘Yes. And the nails of his right hand will be trimmed short, those of his left hand long. He speaks good English, and he might address you as von Klieb.’

‘Do I understand that from New Delhi onwards we’re in Orishu’s hands?’ asked Palfrey, thoughtfully.

‘No—we shall make the arrangements for you to get to Chunking, as I’ve told you,’ said Brett. ‘But Orishu might suggest different arrangements and you’ll be wise to be guided by him. Now, about Stefan. I’ve been in touch with Moscow and suggested that he represents himself to be Hans Goetz, one time Gauleiter of Amsterdam—Moscow liked the suggestion, Sap.’ ‘Intelligent people, the Russians,’ Palfrey murmured. ‘So as to remove the risk of the three of you being suspected because you have travelled together, you won’t go on to Japan from Chunking with Stefan. But you’ll see him there,’ said Brett, ‘and make arrangements with him there about a rendezvous in Japan. Most Germans who reach Tokyo are housed in a building near the Shiba Temple, and you’ll probably be sent there as soon as you arrive. Stefan should be there, too, but you’re to meet as strangers – our research shows nothing to suggest that von Klieb and Hans Goetz ever met. All known details of the two men are in your papers, for you to read up. Von Klieb’s wife is not well known, but there is some information about her. That’s clear enough, isn’t it?’ ‘Perfectly,’ Palfrey assured him.

‘If all goes well, it will take you about a fortnight to reach Tokyo,’ said Brett. ‘It wouldn’t be wise to get there any quicker, in view of all the circumstances, and I’ll use the intervening time to elaborate your impersonation as much as I can.’ He smiled. ‘I think that’s about the lot, except for Drusilla’s hair.’

‘Hair?’ exclaimed Drusilla.

‘I know this is a blow,’ said Brett, ‘but you’ll have to dye it—bleach it, rather!—as soon as you’re in Tokyo. We haven’t been able to get a photograph of von Klieb’s wife, but we do know that her hair is fair. It’ll be all right dark when you get there, but they’ll look for light hair at the roots within a few days, so you’d better go the whole hog and bleach it, and say that you’ve washed the dye out. Orishu will look after that for you—a great deal will depend on Orishu.’

‘I wish there weren’t so much,’ said Palfrey.

‘I think you’ll overcome your prejudice when you’ve worked with him for a few weeks,’ smiled Brett. ‘Well, that’s about all. I’ve instructed Orishu to get you out of the country if it becomes apparent that you are known. I don’t know how long you’ll be there, but with luck you will spend a month or two and pick up a great deal of useful information.’ He stood up, and as Drusilla was about to rise, smiled down at her, and then kissed her forehead. ‘God be with you, my dear. When you come back you’ll have that normal life you’re longing for!’ He shook hands with Palfrey. ‘Good luck, Sap.’

‘Thanks,’ mumbled Palfrey. ‘One thing is puzzling me, though. It’s on my mind, rather.’

‘What is it?’

‘Uncomfortable kind of feeling,’ Palfrey’s words were hardly audible; but he looked frankly into Brett’s eyes. ‘I mean—why haven’t you been wholly frank? It’s hard. We’re taking risks, you know.’

Brett said, quietly: ‘I have been as frank as I can, Sap, and I’ve kept nothing back which will make any difference to you.’

‘Oh,’ said Palfrey, and smiled bleakly.

When they were outside, he looked back from their taxi. Brett was standing in the doorway of his house, and just behind him stood his white-haired butler, Christian. Brett had a hand raised in farewell; Christian’s smile was set. The taxi moved off, with Drusilla waving out of one window and Palfrey the other. As they drew back, finally, Palfrey took Drusilla’s hand. His fingers toyed with her wedding ring, but he did not smile. ‘What made you think there was something else?’ she asked him quietly.

‘Instructions all too vague,’ said Palfrey. ‘It may be that they’ve a suspicion of something brewing and they don’t want us to know, in case we elaborate it before we get there and have a theory in advance. Or it may simply be that the Marquis is afraid we might give something away.’

‘It can’t be that!’

‘I hope not.’ Palfrey squeezed her hand. ‘I certainly hope not, my sweet. They do say that the Japs are past masters in forcing confessions, don’t they? It may be that Brett, on instructions, has kept one vital thing back. However, it can’t make any big difference to how we work.’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever known you so gloomy,’ said Drusilla.

Ah! I wasn’t a married man before.’ His face brightened and he slipped an arm about her shoulders. ‘I am now, you know!’

They were used to air travel, and no sense of novelty relieved the boredom of the next two days. The aircraft stopped at Gibraltar to refuel, and they spent a night at Alexandria, but did not move outside the airport hotel. They had a different set of passengers on the second part of the journey, and another completely new passenger-load from Alexandria to New Delhi, the longest single flight so far. Beneath them on that route, even the hilly and mountainous country was monotonous after the first half-hour, although they had been stirred by a glimpse of the Nile delta and the fertile land on either side of it.

There was a curious sense of unreality about it all. Palfrey was more restless than Drusilla could remember. It was as if the fact that they were married had given him a greater sense of responsibility, although she found it difficult to believe that was the whole explanation. He was worried by what he thought Brett had kept back, and she wished for once that he did not possess a curious kind of perception, amounting almost to a sixth sense. Without it, however, he would never have been of such service to the Allies, and would certainly never have been sent out on this mission.

Towards evening on the second day, they were flying over dark countryside with occasional stretches of reddish brown rock. Central India was spread out like a relief map in front of them. In the distance were the hazy shapes of hills or mountains, but there was nothing near enough to be impressive, until suddenly the sun glinted on something ahead of them. Drusilla leaned towards the window.

New Delhi looked as if it were a model city built on gigantic lines. Green lawns in front of most of the buildings and flowers in riotous colouring were clearly visible. They could see the airfield and the block of buildings clustered at one side of it, the cylindrical balloon waving from the top of the control-tower.

They could see the old town as clearly as the new: a mass of dark buildings huddled together. It was almost impossible to see the streets criss-crossing it, and the mass was relieved only here and there by the white roofs and pinnacled towers of mosques and temples. There was a touch of the sinister about it, compared with New Delhi, and as they circled to land Palfrey looked at Drusilla with one eyebrow raised.

‘We can call this the starting-place,’ he said.

‘Eight-fifty-nine,’ murmured Drusilla. Tonight, I wonder?’

‘I hope so!’

They landed smoothly. Everything was remarkably normal on the airfield, which had been vastly improved during the war, and stretched for miles in either direction.

A native boy came for their cases and led them to the small hotel attached to the airfield, one used mainly for passengers staying for one night. Everything was modern: there were showers and running water in all the rooms, and the smiling native servants almost fell over one another in their eagerness.

The manager came along as they entered the room, and said cheerfully: ‘You’ve picked a warm night, even for this part of the world!’ He was a tall, lean man dressed in formal evening dress, and looked surprisingly cool. ‘If you take my advice you’ll get into pyjamas and rest in a long-chair until the dinner-bell goes. You’ll have half an hour to dress after the first bell. Is there anything you want?’

‘No, thanks,’ said Palfrey, and then, as the man was halfway to the door, said suddenly: ‘Oh, there is one thing. I’m told there’s a good tailor here, and I came away at short notice without much in the way of clothes.’

‘You want to look Amsa up,’ said the manager. ‘He’s an old rascal, but a first-class tailor provided he’s got something to copy from.’

‘This suit,’ suggested Palfrey.

‘Then that’s all right. If you’re going in the morning, I’ll be glad to run you to the old town, and drop you at Amsa’s.’

‘I was thinking of popping out now,’ said Palfrey.

‘Oh. I can’t get away tonight, I’m afraid, but I’ll gladly put a car at your disposal.’

There was nothing remarkable about the brief journey into the old city. It was quaint, picturesque, extremely dirty, and gave off a malodorous stench which, for the first few minutes, made them keep a handkerchief at their noses. They grew used to it, however, by the time the native driver had pulled up outside a tiny shop in a narrow, long and straggling street.

The shop with a window had a facia board with the name ‘Amsa the Tailor—Good Class’ printed in gilt letters, and on the window were the words: ‘Excellent tailoring for Ladies and Gentlemen, warmly recommended by His Majesty’s Army, etc. Also British Overseas Airways.’ ‘Happy thought,’ said Palfrey.

The doorway was narrow, and inside the shop it seemed dark, although a single electric light was burning, and several natives were sitting cross-legged, stitching industriously. Partitions on either side of the centre shop were filled with bales of cloth.

As they stood waiting, their heads bent because of the low ceiling, a little old man shuffled from the back of the shop. He bowed low.

‘Amsa the tailor, sahib, memsahib.’ He gave Drusilla a bob rather than a bow. ‘At your service night and day.’ He gave a broad, toothless smile. ‘The sahib requires a suit urgently?’

‘Most urgently,’ said Palfrey, smiling. ‘I’m told that you are the best tailor in Delhi, Amsa.’

‘Very kind,’ said Amsa, beaming. ‘Most kind. You will select the cloth, perhaps?’ He clapped his hands, and two of the men who had been sewing put down their work and jumped to their feet. ‘Linen, perhaps? Good Yorkshire serge? Tweed? Flannel?’

‘Linen, I think,’ said Palfrey.

Amsa snapped a few words in his own dialect, and as if in a frenzy his men pulled out bale after bale of linen and flung them on to a low bench. Amsa picked up the first, felt it between his thumb and forefinger, and nodded.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Finest Irish. Only a little we get today, sahib, but more is to come, they say. At the price, very cheap—very cheap. Belfast.’ He beamed. ‘How much?’ asked Palfrey. ‘Seven guineas,’ said Amsa, promptly.

‘It seems—’ began Palfrey.

‘Amsa, you old scoundrel, that’s three guineas more than you’d charge me!’ roared a deep voice, and into the shop strode a heavily-built man whom they had seen at the hotel. ‘Don’t let him swindle you, Palfrey!’ he boomed. ‘Skinner told me you were coming, fellow ought to have known better than to let you come alone to this old robber’s den!’

Amsa, instead of being outraged, emitted a shrill cackle of laughter.

‘Meester Smith so funny,’ he said. ‘Me no charge more than suit worth. Me charge Meester Smith low price for recommending me. Six guineas, lowest. Best Belfast linen.’ He grew earnest. ‘The sahib a large man. Require much cloth.’ He held up a bale, unwound the cloth skilfully and let it fall to the ground at Palfrey’s feet. ‘You see! Six guineas, very good price, very cheap.’

‘I—’ began Palfrey.

‘Don’t you pay a penny more than five,’ said Mr. Smith, a shadowy figure whose head was bent but who was smiling broadly. ‘If you do you’ll spoil the market for the rest of us.’

‘No fear spoil market for Meester Smith,’ declared Amsa. ‘You wish pay only five guineas, sahib? Pleased to oblige. This cloth—good, English linen. Very fine special quality. Not Belfast.’ He looked sadly at the first bale. ‘Good, but not so good. Yes?’

‘I’ll have the Irish linen,’ said Palfrey.

Amsa’s face was almost split in two.

‘Sahib is a wise man! Because of his wisdom, no guineas—six pounds.’

‘When will the suit be ready?’

‘Tomorrow,’ said Amsa, promptly.

‘As soon as that?’

‘Work of the best and the fastest, on the recommendation of Meester Smith,’ said Amsa. He bowed low, bobbed again in front of Drusilla, and ushered them to the door.

Daylight was already fading as, at Drusilla’s suggestion, they walked along the narrow street, seeing countless shops without windows and an astonishing array of wares. Pottery, exquisite shawls and scarves, silver- and gold-work, imitation jewels, copperwork, woodcarvings which made Palfrey’s eyes sparkle, food shops, stores and small warehouses of every description were crammed into the street.

Smith strolled along with them, and offered a belated apology.

‘I hope you didn’t mind me butting in like that, Palfrey. I know Amsa of old—he’s a wily old rascal, and his prices go up by leaps and bounds when he sees a stranger unaccompanied. Never shop in the old town without someone who knows the ropes, that’s my tip.’

‘It was thoughtful of you to come,’ Palfrey assured him.

‘Nonsense! Something to do,’ said Smith, airily. ‘Any plans for tonight?’

‘Eat and sleep.’

‘Oh, never mind sleep. You won’t be able to in this heat, anyhow. How about a rubber of bridge?’

‘I’m not a great player,’ said Palfrey.

‘Who is these days?’ demanded Smith. ‘That’s arranged, then. Splendid, splendid! My wife will make a fourth—why don’t we eat together, anyhow? Eh?’ His voice travelled along the street clearly. And afterwards,’ he added, lowering his voice to a gigantic whisper, ‘what about one or two stories, eh?’

‘Stories?’ asked Palfrey, startled.

‘You know,’ said Smith, digging him in the ribs. ‘You can’t hide away in Delhi, old or new!’ He roared with laughter. ‘We’ve seen the papers, you know; surprising how soon they get out here. That reminds me—congratulations! India, not Italy!’ He laughed again. ‘We’d give a fortune to know what things were really like in Europe, Palfrey, that’s gospel truth. Mrs. Palfrey won’t mind, I’m sure.’

‘I think we ought to get an early night,’ said Palfrey.

No message came from Orishu; soon after dinner they fell asleep, and it was well into the morning when they woke up.

Palfrey’s feeling of disquiet was not quite gone. His suspicions of Smith were much stronger, and the only information he could get, without making the questions too pointed, was that Smith was a commercial traveller who often spent a few nights at the Delhi airport. He stuck to them during most of the day, escorting them to the old city again in the late afternoon – evenings and mornings, he said, were the only times when it was possible to breathe in the narrow, smelly streets. He fended off all persistent efforts to sell them trinkets and knick-knacks, and he was certainly good company.

When they got back, Palfrey looked at Drusilla with one eyebrow raised, and said thoughtfully: ‘Careful attention, and we haven’t been out of his sight for half an hour all day!’

‘We haven’t had a message from Orishu, either,’ said Drusilla, uneasily. ‘Sap, do you think anything’s gone wrong?’

‘How could it, yet?’ asked Palfrey.

‘The Marquis warned us that it could. Don’t pretend to be satisfied. And darling, I’m thirsty!’

The waiter who answered their bell bowed and smiled, mixed the drinks they ordered, and bowing and smiling like an automaton, backed out of the room.

‘Odd fish.’ Palfrey picked up his glass. ‘I—Hal-lo!’

Drusilla saw him pick up a small piece of folded paper. They stared at it before Palfrey opened it, and Drusilla stepped to his side and read over his shoulder: Tonight – 8.59 – O’u.

‘Well, well!’ said Palfrey. ‘The time’s all right, the little green cotton stitches did the trick! Now we’ve got to find a way of getting out of this place tonight without Smith following us. If we give him half a chance, he’ll be on our heels.’