said Morrison. He was touched by Holmes’ sudden gesture. ‘You know perfectly well.’ Morrison said gruffly, ‘that you and I don’t take any notice of that.’
‘Don’t we? Good.’ Holmes smiled. ‘In that case do you think I could have a look at Shepherd’s diary? It was found on him, wasn’t it?’
‘The exhibit is at the Yard,’ said Morrison, unlocking his briefcase, ‘but I brought the photostat copies. If they won’t do I’ll ring over and get a messenger to — ’
‘They’ll do admirably,’ said Holmes. ‘May I?’
‘Go ahead.’
Morrison handed over the clip of photographs and settled back to light his pipe. He had a great admiration for Holmes. He found his presence comforting. Morrison felt that the diary might be of importance. So far it had not revealed much.
‘Most of the things in it.’ Morrison said, ‘are the usual sort. Flight numbers, times of trains, records of hotel bills. He was careful, was Shepherd. There’s nothing in there to incriminate anybody or anything. But there are still one or two entries we don’t understand. Mostly appointments, so far as we know. Just initials and times jotted down. He met a lot of people in Libya.’
Holmes nodded. There was silence during which Morrison enveloped himself in clouds of blue tobacco smoke and puffed contentedly away.
‘Was this an appointment?’ Holmes held up the photograph of the page for July 15th. It was blank except for a pencil note: 3 I D Distbn .
‘It could be an appointment,’ said Morrison. That’s one we’re not sure about. The previous day, for example, we are.’
Holmes, turning back, saw, for July 14th: A . 3.30.
That one we’ve checked,’ said Morrison. ‘It was an appointment with a man called Anderson. Works in one of our consular offices. Shepherd met him at 3.30 and passed on one or two things.’
‘Anything important?’
‘No. Routine. Developments. Gossip. Mostly hearsay, according to Anderson, who doesn’t remember much about it now except Shepherd drank a lot. Said he was living on his nerves.’
‘Did he know where Shepherd was going on the following day?’
‘No.’
‘Pity.’
‘It is a pity,’ said Morrison. ‘It is indeed. I believe if we could find I D who had an appointment with Shepherd in Casablanca at three o’clock on July 15th to discuss what appears to be distribution we would be getting somewhere.’
‘You think it’s a man?’
‘It could be a woman,’ said Morrison. ‘But I doubt it. My guess is it’s a character we know called Ian Dixon who keeps a water-front cafe in Casablanca. Shady expatriate type. Lamb uses him sometimes as a contact and so does the Foreign Office. Useful but not necessarily trustworthy. Runs a couple of lorries and a fishing boat and is frequently away from the cafe for lone intervals.’
‘Ah.’
‘If it was distributing the stuff from the factory,’ Morrison said, ‘lorries and a boat — you see? — might be useful.’
‘So you think 3 I D means Shepherd had a three o’clock appointment on that day with Ian Dixon who has transport which could have something to do with the distribution of LSD from the factory in Libya,’ said Holmes. ‘Is that what you think?’
‘It’s a workable theory,’ said Morrison.
‘Did Ian Dixon have an appointment?’
‘We’ve been trying to find out.’
‘We haven’t contacted Dixon?’
‘He’s disappeared.’
‘Has he?’ said Holmes. He was intrigued. ‘How very dramatic of him.’
‘It’s not necessarily significant or dramatic,’ said Morrison. ‘He comes and goes, apparently.’
‘A shifty sort of character?’ Holmes frowned. ‘One would have thought — ’ he began.
‘Thought what?’
‘Never mind,’ said Holmes.
Morrison did mind; but at that moment the phone rang. Holmes answered it and passed it over. ‘For you,’ he said. ‘It’s your office.’
‘Hullo!’ snarled Morrison into the phone; and listened. When he spoke again he did not
‘Don’t we? Good.’ Holmes smiled. ‘In that case do you think I could have a look at Shepherd’s diary? It was found on him, wasn’t it?’
‘The exhibit is at the Yard,’ said Morrison, unlocking his briefcase, ‘but I brought the photostat copies. If they won’t do I’ll ring over and get a messenger to — ’
‘They’ll do admirably,’ said Holmes. ‘May I?’
‘Go ahead.’
Morrison handed over the clip of photographs and settled back to light his pipe. He had a great admiration for Holmes. He found his presence comforting. Morrison felt that the diary might be of importance. So far it had not revealed much.
‘Most of the things in it.’ Morrison said, ‘are the usual sort. Flight numbers, times of trains, records of hotel bills. He was careful, was Shepherd. There’s nothing in there to incriminate anybody or anything. But there are still one or two entries we don’t understand. Mostly appointments, so far as we know. Just initials and times jotted down. He met a lot of people in Libya.’
Holmes nodded. There was silence during which Morrison enveloped himself in clouds of blue tobacco smoke and puffed contentedly away.
‘Was this an appointment?’ Holmes held up the photograph of the page for July 15th. It was blank except for a pencil note: 3 I D Distbn .
‘It could be an appointment,’ said Morrison. That’s one we’re not sure about. The previous day, for example, we are.’
Holmes, turning back, saw, for July 14th: A . 3.30.
That one we’ve checked,’ said Morrison. ‘It was an appointment with a man called Anderson. Works in one of our consular offices. Shepherd met him at 3.30 and passed on one or two things.’
‘Anything important?’
‘No. Routine. Developments. Gossip. Mostly hearsay, according to Anderson, who doesn’t remember much about it now except Shepherd drank a lot. Said he was living on his nerves.’
‘Did he know where Shepherd was going on the following day?’
‘No.’
‘Pity.’
‘It is a pity,’ said Morrison. ‘It is indeed. I believe if we could find I D who had an appointment with Shepherd in Casablanca at three o’clock on July 15th to discuss what appears to be distribution we would be getting somewhere.’
‘You think it’s a man?’
‘It could be a woman,’ said Morrison. ‘But I doubt it. My guess is it’s a character we know called Ian Dixon who keeps a water-front cafe in Casablanca. Shady expatriate type. Lamb uses him sometimes as a contact and so does the Foreign Office. Useful but not necessarily trustworthy. Runs a couple of lorries and a fishing boat and is frequently away from the cafe for lone intervals.’
‘Ah.’
‘If it was distributing the stuff from the factory,’ Morrison said, ‘lorries and a boat — you see? — might be useful.’
‘So you think 3 I D means Shepherd had a three o’clock appointment on that day with Ian Dixon who has transport which could have something to do with the distribution of LSD from the factory in Libya,’ said Holmes. ‘Is that what you think?’
‘It’s a workable theory,’ said Morrison.
‘Did Ian Dixon have an appointment?’
‘We’ve been trying to find out.’
‘We haven’t contacted Dixon?’
‘He’s disappeared.’
‘Has he?’ said Holmes. He was intrigued. ‘How very dramatic of him.’
‘It’s not necessarily significant or dramatic,’ said Morrison. ‘He comes and goes, apparently.’
‘A shifty sort of character?’ Holmes frowned. ‘One would have thought — ’ he began.
‘Thought what?’
‘Never mind,’ said Holmes.
Morrison did mind; but at that moment the phone rang. Holmes answered it and passed it over. ‘For you,’ he said. ‘It’s your office.’
‘Hullo!’ snarled Morrison into the phone; and listened. When he spoke again he did not
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