The Shepherd File by Conrad Voss Bark Page B

shout, as he had done at first, and he seemed to be depressed. ‘I’ll come over,’ he said and put the receiver down.
    ‘You know we were keeping a watch on Mrs Shepherd?’ he said to Holmes. ‘Well — she’s disappeared. Walked out in broad daylight. Vanished. Goes out of the back door. Into the woods. Whizz. Seen no more.’ His depression smouldered into anger. ‘I seem,’ he said, ‘to have a blind bunch of bewildered — ’ He searched, or appeared to search, for a word that would adequately describe the luckless subordinate he had put on to watch the Shepherd bungalow. ‘Oh, never mind,’ he said getting up. ‘It was probably my fault for not having two men on the job. That’s for economy. I’d better go and sort things out.’
    ‘The sister and the child? ‘
    They’re not there either,’ said Morrison. ‘Where is everybody getting to? They can’t all vanish.’ He went out grumbling. ‘It’ll probably take hours and it probably won’t mean anything. Damn it, Holmes. What a nuisance it all is.’
    Holmes also thought that it was a nuisance and it might be even more than that; only for the time being he was content, and had to be, to leave it to Morrison. He turned to the photostats and looked through them with care. It took him nearly an hour. He was no nearer getting an answer. There were too many things he still didn’t know.
    If A stood for Anderson in the diary, then D might well stand for Dixon, or it might not. Why did Shepherd and Anderson discuss nothing of importance — according to Anderson — if Shepherd knew that the next day he was going to talk about distribution of LSD with Dixon? — which would be a subject of enormous importance. Or did he know? Perhaps the appointment was only made after the talk with Anderson.
    There were too many unanswered questions. Holmes sent for the Foreign Office intelligence file and managed to unearth Anderson’s report. Morrison had summarized it admirably. In fact Anderson had clearly been a little puzzled to know why Shepherd had called on him at all. They had not discussed Shepherd’s mission. Anderson did not even know what it was. He knew nothing about a possible visit to Ian Dixon. They had had drinks and had gossiped, as Anderson put it, a good deal. Anderson had thought Shepherd was living on his nerves.
    Holmes picked up the phone and asked for the Foreign Office intelligence department. He explained what he wanted. ‘In this particular case,’ he said, ‘it’s important to find out precisely what Anderson and Shepherd gossiped about. Yes, it is important. I suspect Shepherd was pumping Anderson for information without him knowing it.’
    The consular office in Casablanca was still open. The Foreign Office, on Holmes’ insistence, made it a priority call. Holmes had his answer in quarter of an hour. Anderson and Shepherd had discussed strategy.
    They had talked about British bases in Africa and the Mediterranean, the Chinese missions, the position of the United States Fifth Fleet, and Russian submarines off Aden, Anderson had reported that it had been casual gossip and speculation, based on newspaper reports that day, and had said it could be that Shepherd had initiated the discussion but at this stage, a month later, he could not remember.
    ‘I bet he did though,’ said Holmes, who was pleased at the way things were going. There was one other thing he learned. Anderson was generally thought by the Foreign Office, even though he was only consulate staff, to be an expert on military affairs in North Africa and had not infrequently given good information to London on that subject. The heading ‘military affairs’ was attached to his name on the Foreign Office file as one of his subjects. Shepherd had had access to that file before leaving London.
    ‘Better and better,’ said Holmes. He thanked the Foreign Office intelligence clerk with elaborate and genuine warmth, rang off, and huddled up in his armchair to think the thing