Microbes of Power (Wallace of the Secret Service Series) by Alexander Wilson Page A

me. They are carting the wives about to give their trip an appearance of innocence. I believe there’s a lady companion and a couple of secretaries as well.’
    ‘Yes, but I don’t suppose they are connected with the conspiracy.’
    ‘One never knows, Barbara. I’ve found more than once that the most innocent-looking and innocent-seeming people are the most dangerous. Did you learn the names of the secretaries and companion by any chance?’
    ‘I – I’m afraid I didn’t,’ she replied, rather as though she thought she had failed to do something she should not have neglected.
    ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll find them out soon enough when I’m on the boat from Naples to Marseilles.’ He leant towards her. ‘You are quite sure,’ he asked earnestly, ‘that the housekeeper at the school is not watching you for a purpose; that is to say, that she has not been put in by the opposite party, because they suspect you?’
    ‘I am convinced that that is not so,’ she assured him. ‘Why should I be suspected? Besides, she hates Paul Michalis. She is hardly likely to work on behalf of a cause he supports.’
    ‘The hate may be all pretence – in fact, the whole business, her ill luck, his refusal to help her, may have been arranged for the very purpose of throwing dust in the eyes of others. It may sound imaginative, but in our job, you know, Barbara, we can’t afford to take anything for granted. We have to be on our guard all the time, and suspect every darned circumstance and person we come up against.’
    ‘You make me feel a terrible tyro,’ she sighed.
    ‘Sorry! I don’t mean to. But do be careful of that woman. I hate the look of her. Do your Syrians come to you in the ordinary way of business? I mean to say, have their visits to you the appearance of complete innocence? You don’t meet them surreptitiously?’
    ‘Oh, no. One is a laundryman and the other a gardener who looks after the school gardens. As I am in charge of the gardens, any conversation I have with him is a perfectly natural event, isn’t it?’
    ‘Quite. Well, that’s a relief.’
    ‘Hugh,’ she accused him, ‘I believe you think I have no common sense at all.’
    ‘Good Heavens!’ he returned in a tone of alarm, ‘don’t get ideas into your head like that. I think you’re splendid. And now we’re going to have a final little drink before I take you back to the school. Will you have something stronger than lemon squash this time? Can I recommend a gin sling or a horse’s neck?’
    ‘Dear me, no!’ she laughed. ‘I believe I’d like a cup of coffee.’
    ‘What, this time of the night! You won’t sleep.’
    ‘I will. Nothing keeps me awake.’
    He looked round to find the waiter; suddenly stiffened. In a moment he was on his feet.
    ‘Doesn’t seem to be about,’ he murmured to Barbara by way of explanation, and in order not to alarm her. ‘I’ll go and fetch him.’
    Standing by a tree a few yards to their rear he had thought tosee the housekeeper. There was no sign of the person now, but he walked quickly to the place, rounded the tree, and came suddenly upon a table at which were seated two people, a man and a woman. The woman was the housekeeper at Barbara’s school. She looked up at him with easy assurance.
    ‘I was right,’ she remarked. ‘It was the big Englishman sitting with the little Miss Havelock.’
    Shannon gave no indication of his feelings.
    ‘I recognised you standing by the tree, as I rose to call the waiter,’ he told her. ‘I thought perhaps you might join us, but I see you are not alone. Your pardon, madame.’
    She laughed.
    ‘There is not the need to apologise,’ she returned. ‘I thought it was you, when we took our places here, so I went by the tree to make certain. This is my brother. He called for me to come to the dance. I say I am getting too old, but he insist.’
    Shannon bowed to the dark-visaged, oily-looking man sitting by her side. He looked the typical gigolo type, though