Perhaps it’s to bribe her mother, or to hold her as a hostage. I don’t know. But whatever it is, we’ve got to find that poor child.”
Mrs. Dix’s round soft mouth had dropped open. She was surveying Kate incredulously. “Whatever makes you say that?”
Patiently, Kate went through her reasons once more. Mrs. Dix seemed to be listening closely, but the lids had dropped slightly over her eyes, hiding their expression. And her nervous fiddling with a piece of tinfoil wrapping gave away her tension. Miss Squires had looked uneasy, too, Kate remembered.
When she had finished, however, Mrs. Dix leaned back with a relieved air.
“My dear girl, I thought you had something dreadfully sinister to tell me, but that all sounds quite explainable. The strange child in the bunk—such a shock for you! After that I’m sure you’d imagine you saw Francesca everywhere or heard her calling you. Someone in some book explains that kind of hallucination. It’s quite common, especially after a death.”
But that last word brought a sudden little silence into the room. Mrs. Dix’s eyelids flew up, as if someone else had said it, and startled her, then dropped again, and she fumbled automatically for her source of comfort.
Kate watched her bite into a chocolate cream, and said rather coldly, “My things being searched was not an hallucination.”
“But I told you to be careful, dear. You shouldn’t trust strange men in a foreign city. Not even Johnnie Lambert who, by the way, has left a message for you. But I’m sure Johnnie would never have done a thing like that.”
“You said you didn’t know who he was,” Kate pointed out.
“A slight mental lapse, dear.” Mrs. Dix’s eyes did not flicker. “I shouldn’t have telephoned you so early this morning. I was only half awake, and I’d completely forgotten about talking to him the day before. He flew in this morning, very disappointed you weren’t on the plane, but much more angry with me for sending him off immediately on another job. But I had an urgent mission that only he could do. He speaks Arabic, you see.”
“What was the message he left?” Kate asked, much more interested in this than in the surprising information that the rather simple, hearty Johnnie Lambert could speak Arabic.
“Oh, just to tell you not to forget him, you’d be seeing him again before long. He seems to have taken quite a fancy to you.” Mrs. Dix wagged her forefinger coyly. “He was terribly distressed about that little contretemps last night. The lights going out must certainly have been a planned thing, he said. He questioned several people after you’d gone, but of course one gets nowhere with that sort. However, no damage was done, thank goodness. Now tell me, please, about this other man on the train.”
“He was just someone who helped me,” Kate said aloofly. “He had nothing to do with Francesca’s disappearance, because he was with me at the time when it must have happened. We were having dinner. I shouldn’t have gone to dinner. I shouldn’t have left her.”
“Now, my dear, don’t fret! The child’s perfectly all right. I spoke to her father, the scoundrel, yesterday. I told you.”
“She left her doll. She isn’t happy without it.”
“Have you got it with you?”
“It’s here, in my handbag.” Kate opened her capacious bag and took out the crushed-looking, shabby doll.
Mrs. Dix put out her hand.
“Give it to me, dear. We’ll send it on to Francesca.”
But Kate shook her head. She returned the doll to her bag.
“I don’t think so. I’ll keep it until I’m quite sure where it’s to go.”
Mrs. Dix was annoyed. Kate knew, by the way she picked up a chocolate and squeezed it, smearing its liquid centre over her fingers. She made a cross little noise and wiped her fingers fastidiously.
“Really, Kate dear, I know you’re tired and overstrained, but aren’t you being a little exasperating. If both Francesca’s parents swear she is safely
Mrs. Dix’s round soft mouth had dropped open. She was surveying Kate incredulously. “Whatever makes you say that?”
Patiently, Kate went through her reasons once more. Mrs. Dix seemed to be listening closely, but the lids had dropped slightly over her eyes, hiding their expression. And her nervous fiddling with a piece of tinfoil wrapping gave away her tension. Miss Squires had looked uneasy, too, Kate remembered.
When she had finished, however, Mrs. Dix leaned back with a relieved air.
“My dear girl, I thought you had something dreadfully sinister to tell me, but that all sounds quite explainable. The strange child in the bunk—such a shock for you! After that I’m sure you’d imagine you saw Francesca everywhere or heard her calling you. Someone in some book explains that kind of hallucination. It’s quite common, especially after a death.”
But that last word brought a sudden little silence into the room. Mrs. Dix’s eyelids flew up, as if someone else had said it, and startled her, then dropped again, and she fumbled automatically for her source of comfort.
Kate watched her bite into a chocolate cream, and said rather coldly, “My things being searched was not an hallucination.”
“But I told you to be careful, dear. You shouldn’t trust strange men in a foreign city. Not even Johnnie Lambert who, by the way, has left a message for you. But I’m sure Johnnie would never have done a thing like that.”
“You said you didn’t know who he was,” Kate pointed out.
“A slight mental lapse, dear.” Mrs. Dix’s eyes did not flicker. “I shouldn’t have telephoned you so early this morning. I was only half awake, and I’d completely forgotten about talking to him the day before. He flew in this morning, very disappointed you weren’t on the plane, but much more angry with me for sending him off immediately on another job. But I had an urgent mission that only he could do. He speaks Arabic, you see.”
“What was the message he left?” Kate asked, much more interested in this than in the surprising information that the rather simple, hearty Johnnie Lambert could speak Arabic.
“Oh, just to tell you not to forget him, you’d be seeing him again before long. He seems to have taken quite a fancy to you.” Mrs. Dix wagged her forefinger coyly. “He was terribly distressed about that little contretemps last night. The lights going out must certainly have been a planned thing, he said. He questioned several people after you’d gone, but of course one gets nowhere with that sort. However, no damage was done, thank goodness. Now tell me, please, about this other man on the train.”
“He was just someone who helped me,” Kate said aloofly. “He had nothing to do with Francesca’s disappearance, because he was with me at the time when it must have happened. We were having dinner. I shouldn’t have gone to dinner. I shouldn’t have left her.”
“Now, my dear, don’t fret! The child’s perfectly all right. I spoke to her father, the scoundrel, yesterday. I told you.”
“She left her doll. She isn’t happy without it.”
“Have you got it with you?”
“It’s here, in my handbag.” Kate opened her capacious bag and took out the crushed-looking, shabby doll.
Mrs. Dix put out her hand.
“Give it to me, dear. We’ll send it on to Francesca.”
But Kate shook her head. She returned the doll to her bag.
“I don’t think so. I’ll keep it until I’m quite sure where it’s to go.”
Mrs. Dix was annoyed. Kate knew, by the way she picked up a chocolate and squeezed it, smearing its liquid centre over her fingers. She made a cross little noise and wiped her fingers fastidiously.
“Really, Kate dear, I know you’re tired and overstrained, but aren’t you being a little exasperating. If both Francesca’s parents swear she is safely
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