Microbes of Power (Wallace of the Secret Service Series) (13 page)

Her appeal went straight to his heart. Despite his misgivings, he felt inclined to cast, at least, some of his prejudices aside. He was about to reply, when abruptly the silence was shattered by a loud knocking on the door. At once they were both on their feet, eyeing each other in a startled fashion; he again suspicious, she with the hint of terror in her great lovely eyes.

 A quiet which, to his mind, seemed pregnant with danger followed the knocking. Had she, after all, betrayed him? Was Signor Bruno outside with officials anxious to question a British Secret Service agent about the reason for his presence in Rome, or had it been arranged between her and her companions that he was to be caught in a compromising position with her for some ulterior purpose? She silently answered his thoughts herself, gliding to his side, and taking his arm as though seeking protection. The faint elusive scent which clung to her threatened to intoxicate his senses, he felt her tremble slightly. Looking down at her, he saw that she was really startled, unless it was that she was a consummate actress. There was no suggestion of hysterical fear, which would immediately have convinced him of its insincerity. She was alarmed, but calm, exactly as he would expect the daughter of her father to be; exactly as the Thalia Ictinos he knew would be expected to face an unpleasant emergency. He knew she possessed great courage. She was not the kind to whimper with fear or lose her head. She did neither now, and consequently his faith in her grew stronger. Suddenly,
however, he gripped her by both shoulders; gazed deep into eyes that returned his burning, questioning gaze unflinchingly.

‘If this is a trick, Thalia Ictinos,’ he whispered tensely, ‘God help you. Do you know who is outside?’

‘No, Monsieur Shannon,’ she murmured, ‘I do not, but I fear it may be that I was watched and followed. If so, it is I who am in danger, not you.’

Her words made him feel a trifle ashamed of himself. Releasing her from a grip that he realised then must have hurt, though she had made no protest, he picked up her cloak, and handed it to her.

‘In here!’ he ordered, opening the door of the wardrobe.

She obeyed at once, while he removed his dressing gown from a peg and, tearing off his dinner jacket, donned the other garment. The knocking was repeated. He threw the jacket on a chair, closed the wardrobe, and sauntered across the room. Opening the door slowly, he confronted the individual standing outside. Immediately a great wave of relief surged through him. The man regarding him with a broad smile was Hill, one of his own colleagues, variously known as ‘Tubby’, ‘Ray’, or ‘The Doc’. Raymond Hill had qualified brilliantly as a doctor, but his spirit of adventure, a knack of picking up languages, patriotic instinct above the ordinary, and a first-class detective sense had shaped his career otherwise than had been the intention. He was now one of the men Sir Leonard regarded as his experts. About medium height, he was slightly inclined to corpulency. He was fair-haired, had a pair of ingenuous blue eyes, and a fresh, clear skin that would have been a credit to a certain excellent soap which, we are assured, helps people to obtain and retain schoolgirl complexions. Hill was subject to a great deal of chaff from his colleagues on account of his fresh, boyish face, but he took it all in good part. He possessed a sense of humour and a jolly
personality, which helped to make him extremely popular.

‘By all that’s wonderful!’ exclaimed Shannon. ‘I’m jolly glad to see you, Tubby. But where have you blown in from? I thought you were in Madrid.’

‘So I was – returned yesterday. The chief gave orders this morning that I was to join you, and here I am; flew over to save time. Aren’t you going to ask me in?’

Shannon pushed him hastily away from the door; stepped outside, closing it behind him. Thalia Ictinos must not catch a glimpse of Hill, since the latter was to help him in his investigations.

‘What’s the big idea?’ queried the ex-doctor, and, grinning broadly, added: ‘You’re not carrying on an intrigue, are you? She was only a landlady’s daughter—’

‘Tubby, you’ve a coarse mind,’ interrupted Shannon, ‘There is a lady in my room I must confess, and thereby hangs a tale with which I shall thrill your ears anon. At present make yourself scarce; whatever happens she mustn’t see you. Come back in about half an hour. She’ll have gone by then.’

‘Tut! Tut!’ sighed Hill. ‘A lady in his room at this hour of the night! Hugh, I should be shocked to the marrow – if one could be shocked to the marrow – if I didn’t know you.’

‘Then it is fortunate you do. I couldn’t bear to shock you, Doc.’ Hill chuckled. He had a way of chuckling in a manner which can only be described as comfortable. ‘Beat it!’ ordered Shannon. ‘I’ll look out for you later.’

Hill obediently departed, and Hugh returned to his room, taking care to close the door tightly when he had entered. Thalia was still in the cupboard. Opening it, he bade her step out.

‘It is quite all right, Miss Ictinos,’ he assured her. ‘Our fears were groundless. The mysterious knocker was merely a friend of mine.’

She stepped forth with a sigh of relief.

‘Mon Dieu!’ she exclaimed. ‘I must admit that I had very much what you call the wind-up. It is a great easement to my mind to know that there was, after all, nothing to fear.’ His smile, she thought, was more friendly than it had yet been. ‘You were also glad to see it was but a friend, I think. For a little time you were very fierce with me.’ She lifted a beautiful white hand, and caressed her shoulder rather ruefully. ‘Your fingers are too strong, Captain Shannon; they hurt.’

He eyed the bruise on the satiny flesh with an air of dismay.

‘Good Lord!’ he ejaculated. ‘Did I do that? I’m awfully sorry.’

‘It is nothing,’ she returned, smiling up at him, ‘and I will consider it worthwhile, if now you have learnt to trust me a little.’

He regarded her in silence for some moments, rubbing a great hand reflectively to and fro on his powerful jaw.

‘I’m not going to be a hypocrite,’ he told her at length, ‘therefore, I will not pretend that my misgivings have been entirely eradicated. There is a possibility remaining in my mind, that for some reason, I cannot fathom, you have come to me with this tale – I mean a reason quite different from the one you have given me. But it is there now merely as a possibility. I am casting aside some of my prejudices regarding you, and am endeavouring to trust you. I warn you, however, that I remain on my guard.’

‘That is natural,’ she conceded. ‘It is something to know that you are trying to trust me and, for the future, will not be too prejudiced against me. And you will help me?’

‘In what way do you think I can be of assistance?’ She sank into the armchair again; accepted the cigarette he offered her.

‘Is it too much to ask you to – how would you put it? Ah! Take a hand in the game?’

‘I am not a free agent,’ he reminded her. ‘If I were, I should not hesitate at all.’

‘It is nice of you to say that,’ she returned gratefully. ‘Can you not spare a little of your time? If that is too much for which to hope, will you please advise me? I am obstructed all ways. There are seven men I am observing, and I am but one woman. They are so cautious that I am compelled to be so very, very careful. Is there anything else I can do to obtain the information I need that I have not done?’

‘What have you done?’

‘What have I not done?’ she retorted wearily. ‘I have pumped – that is the word, I think – I have pumped Madame Bikelas and Signora Bruno until I am assured they know very little. I have done the same thing with the two secretaries, but have failed. They are stones, not men,’ she added in disgusted tones. ‘I have tried to flirt with the others – ah! It was distasteful. Messieurs Bruno and Bikelas are either too full of their affairs or afraid of their wives to have much to do with me. Plasiras, Michalis, and Kyprianos have returned my smiles with looks I do not like, especially the scientist who I think is a devil – he frightens me. Sometimes he looks at me but I have told you that. Monsieur Doreff is a weakling; I do not think he is of much account. My hopes rest on General Radoloff. He is perhaps in love with me. I am trying to be very, very kind to him, because, if I let him make love to me, he may talk. It is what you call a forlorn hope, though. Never can I listen at doors or by windows to their discussions, for they guard themselves too well. It is all very difficult, m’sieu.’

‘It certainly sounds like it,’ agreed Shannon. ‘Look here, Miss Ictinos, I promise you this. I will think things over, and, if I discover a way of helping you or advising you, I will let you know somehow. Could you manage to see me again?’

She looked dubious.

‘I took a great risk when I came here tonight,’ she declared slowly. ‘Perhaps another time I might not be so fortunate, but, of course, I will endeavour to see you – I must, if you are to help me.’

He sat on the bed; contemplated his shoes thoughtfully. Presently he looked at her.

‘I suppose you sometimes go out for a walk by yourself?’ he asked.

‘But of course,’ she laughed. ‘I am not a prisoner. Often I walk alone.’

‘Well, take a stroll in the Pincio Gardens at sunset tomorrow. I also will walk there. I shall keep to the path at the edge of the hill, until I come to the terrace over the Piazza del Popolo. From there I shall contemplate the view. If you arrive on the terrace, and are assured you have not been followed, you will come and speak to me. If you do not, I shall know that you are being watched, and shall ignore you if I see you. In that case, you must send a message here appointing a fresh rendezvous. How will that do?’

‘It is excellent,’ she proclaimed, rising to her feet. ‘And are you still Captain Shannon in this hotel?’

He smiled, and nodded.

‘I am,’ he told her, as he helped her on with her coat, adding with a laugh: ‘English officers very often visit Rome, you know.’

She held out her hand, which he grasped readily enough.

‘You have relieved my anxieties very much, m’sieu,’ she declared. ‘When the time come that I know you trust me wholly, and have forgotten what is past, I shall be very happy. Goodnight, Captain Shannon, and thank you very much.’

He opened the door, glancing out to make certain there was no one about; then, assuring her the way was clear, let her out.
He watched her go along the corridor, admiring her graceful figure as she tripped daintily away into the distance. When she had disappeared from view, he re-entered the room and, crossing to the armchair, threw himself into its well-upholstered depths, filling and lighting a great briar he took from his pocket. Thereafter, puffing away placidly, he gave himself up to deep thought.

Thalia descended the stairs in preference to taking one of the elevators. She had almost reached the ground floor, when a young man came running up. They both moved the same way, as people often will to avoid one another; then promptly veered in the other direction. At that, both stood still and laughed, and, for a moment, gazed into each other’s eyes. An expression of frank admiration came into the man’s face; the girl thought how attractive he was.

‘I beg your pardon, signor,’ she apologised in silvery tones that sent a thrill through Dr Raymond Hill.

He did not recover himself and his manners until she was passing on.

‘Forgive me, signorina,’ he stammered. ‘I – I am afraid you – you will think I am very rude.’

‘Not at all, signor,’ she replied sweetly. ‘It was one of those droll situations which one cannot avoid.’

She smiled and, with a little nod, went on her way. Hill stood where he was, gazing after her until she was out of sight; then he turned, and continued the ascent, but this time did not hurry.

‘Gad!’ he muttered to himself. ‘What a stunning girl! Her Italian was perfect, but I don’t think she hails from these parts. Her beauty is more Grecian than Italian.’

He sought his room, still thinking of her, as a result of which he entirely forgot what he had gone there to seek. At the expiration
of the time indicated by Shannon, he knocked at the door of the latter’s room, and was immediately admitted.

‘Jove, Hugh!’ he exulted. ‘I saw a perfectly topping girl ten minutes ago. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone more beautiful.’

Shannon eyed him with an air of surprise. Hill was not given to going into rhapsodies over the other sex.

‘Didn’t know you were impressionable,’ he grunted. ‘Take a pew, and have a cigarette.’

‘Prefer a pipe, thanks.’ Hill took the armchair. ‘She has glossy black hair, a marvellous complexion, wonderful mouth, the pearliest of teeth, and her eyes! Oh, boy, if you could only have seen them!’ He sighed deeply. ‘To think I shall never see her again,’ he groaned.

Shannon laughed.

‘As bad as all that,’ he chuckled. ‘Perhaps you will see her again. This is a small world.’

‘Don’t be so horribly trite! It isn’t a small world, when you’re searching it for the one girl who matters.’

‘You don’t mean to tell me this houri has actually captured the cold, self-centred heart of our tubby little doc!’

‘I am not tubby,’ protested Hill vehemently. As it was the first time Shannon had ever known the ex-doctor resent the word, he concluded the affair was serious. ‘My heart is neither cold nor self-centred,’ went on Hill, ‘and you know it. Women simply haven’t interested me before.’

The burly man sank rather weakly on the bed.

‘Are you really trying to tell me,’ he demanded, ‘that you are in love, and with a girl you’ve only met today?’

Hill scratched his head with the stem of his pipe.

‘It sounds darn stupid,’ he admitted, ‘but I believe I am. If I were in the habit of falling in and out of love like Tommy Carter, I
wouldn’t take any notice of it, but honestly there is nothing more I desire at this moment than to meet her again.’

‘Who is she?’

‘Haven’t the foggiest. Dash it all! I only saw her for a moment on the stairs. We almost collided. All we have said to each other were apologies, though why she apologised to me, I don’t know – it was my fault.’

‘There is no such thing as love at first sight,’ declared Shannon sententiously. ‘Her beauty gave you a jar, that’s all. It will wear off.’

‘What? The beauty or the jar?’ asked Hill sarcastically.

‘Both,’ was the reply, ‘especially if she obtains the beauty from a jar.’

‘Hugh Shannon,’ protested the other, ‘this sad and solemn moment is not the time to give expression to your extremely low sense of humour. And let me tell you that love at first sight is the only real and genuine love. Dash it all! I wish I hadn’t gone up those stairs.’