Yes, Colonel Hakim said, that is not bad at all as a cover story. He began to pant again and took another lozenge. I only mentioned those names to show you that General Abdul is now a little senile. One doesnt finance an operation in Turkey with foreign money of that kind. A wise woman like yourself must have realized that if his operation had any chance of success, he could have found local support. He would not have had to offer a Chicago meat packer twenty-five per-cent interest and a share of the profits.
Mr. Visconti would certainly have seen through that, my aunt said.
But now you are a lady living alone. You havent the benefit of Viscontis advice. You might be tempted a little by the quick profits
Why? I have no children to leave them to, Colonel.
Or perhaps by the sense of adventure.
At my age! My aunt beamed with pleasure.
There was a knock on the door and a policeman entered. He spoke to the colonel and the colonel translated for our benefit. Nothing, he said, has been found in Mr. Pullings baggage, but if you wouldnt mind My man is very careful, he will wear clean gloves, and I assure you he will leave not the smallest wrinkle Would you mind if I put on the electric light while he works?
I would mind a great deal[164], my aunt said. I left my dark glasses on the train. Unless you wish to give me a splitting headache
Of course not, Miss Bertram. He will do without[165]. You will forgive us if the search takes a little longer.
The policeman first went through my aunts handbag and handed certain papers to Colonel Hakim. Forty pounds in travellers cheques, he noted.
I have cashed ten, my aunt said.
I see from your air ticket you plan to leave tomorrow I mean today. A very short visit. Why did you come by train, Miss Bertram?
I wanted to see my stepson in Milan.
The colonel gave her a quizzical look. May one ask? According to your passport you are unmarried.
Mr. Viscontis son.
Ah, always that Mr. Visconti.
The policeman was busy now with my aunts suitcase. He looked in the cardboard box which had contained the candle, shook it and smelt it.
That is the box for my candle, my aunt said. As I told you, I think, they make these candles in Venice. One candle does for a whole journey I believe it is guaranteed for twenty-four hours continuously. Perhaps forty-eight.
You are burning a real work of art, the colonel said.
Henry, hold the candle for the policeman to see better.
Again I was astonished by the weight of the candle when I lifted it.
Dont bother, Mr. Pulling, he has finished.
I was glad to put it down again.
Well, Colonel Hakim said with a smile, we have found nothing compromising in your luggage. The policeman was repacking the case. Now just as a formality we must go through the room. And the bed, Miss Bertram, if you will consent to sit in a chair.
He took part in this search himself, limping from one piece of furniture to another, sometimes feeling with his stick, under the bed, and at the back of a drawer. And now Mr. Pullings pockets, he said. I emptied them rather angrily on the dressing-table. He looked carefully through my notebook and drew out a cutting from the Daily Telegraph. He read it aloud with a puzzled frown: Those that took my fancy were the ruby-red Maitre Roger, light-red, white-tipped Cheerio, deep crimson Arabian Night and Black Flash, and scarlet Bacchus
Please explain, Mr. Pulling.
It is self-explanatory[166], I said stiflfy.
Then you must forgive my ignorance.
The report of a dahlia show. In Chelsea. I am very interested in dahlias.
Flowers?
Of course they are flowers.
The names sounded so oddly like those of horses. I was puzzled by the deep crimson. He put the cutting down and limped to my aunts side. I will say good night now, Miss Bertram. You have made my duty tonight a most agreeable one. You cannot think how bored I get with exhibitions of injured innocence. I will send a police car to take you to your plane tomorrow.
Please dont bother. We can take a taxi.
We should be sorry to see you miss your plane.
I think perhaps I ought to stop over one more day and see poor General Abdul.
I am afraid he is not allowed visitors. What is this book you are reading? What a very ugly fellow with a red fez. Has he stabbed the girl?
No. He is the policeman. He is called Colonel Hakim, my aunt said with a look of satisfaction.
After the door had closed I turned with some anger on my aunt. Aunt Augusta, I said, what did all that mean?
Some little political trouble, I would imagine. Politics in Turkey are taken more seriously than they are at home. It was only quite recently that they executed a Prime Minister. We dream of it, but they act. I hadnt realized, I admit, what General Abdul was up to. Foolish of him at his age. He must be eighty if a day, but I believe in Turkey there are more centenarians than in any other European country. Yet I doubt whether poor Abdul is likely to make his century[167].
Do you realize that theyre deporting us? I think we should call the British Embassy.
You exaggerate, dear. They are just lending us a police car.
And if we refuse to take it?
I have no intention of refusing. We were already booked on the plane. After making my investment here, I had no intention of lingering around. I didnt expect quick profits, and twenty-five per cent always involves a risk.
What investment, Aunt Augusta? Forty pounds in travellers cheques?
Oh no, dear. I bought quite a large gold ingot in Paris. You remember the man from the bank
So that was what they were looking for. Where on earth had you hidden it, Aunt Augusta?
I looked at the candle, and I remembered its weight.
Yes, dear, my aunt said, how clever of you to guess. Colonel Hakim didnt. You can blow it out now. I lifted it up again it must have weighed nearly twenty pounds.
What do you propose to do with this now?
I shall have to take it back to England with me. It may be of use another time. It was most fortunate, when you come to think of it, that they shot poor General Abdul before I gave him the candle and not after. I wonder if he is really still alive. They would be likely to glide over any grisly detail like that with a woman. I shall have a Mass said for him in any case, because a man of that age is unlikely to survive a bullet long. The shock alone, even if it were not in a vital part
I interrupted her speculations. Youre not going to take that ingot back into England? Ingot England. I was irritated by the absurd jangle which sounded like a comic song. Have you no respect at all for the law?
It depends, dear, to which law you refer. Like the Ten Commandments. I cant take very seriously the one about the ox and the ass[168].
The English customs are not so easily fooled as the Turkish police.
A used candle is remarkably convincing. Ive tried it before.
Not if they lift it up.
But they wont, dear. Perhaps if the wick and the wax were intact they might think they could charge me purchase tax. Or some suspicious officer might think it a phony candle containing drugs. But a used candle. Oh no, I think the danger is very small. And theres always my age to protect me.
I refuse to go back into England with that ingot. The jangle irritated me again.
But you have no choice, dear. The colonel will certainly see us on to the plane and there is no stop before London. The great advantage of being deported is that we shall not have to pass the Turkish customs again.
Why on earth did you do it, Aunt Augusta? Such a risk
Mr. Visconti is in need of money.
He stole yours.
That was a long time ago. It will all be finished by now.
Chapter 16
It seemed at first another and a happier world which I had re-entered: I was back home, in the late afternoon, as the long shadows were falling; a boy whistled a Beatle tune and a motor-bicycle revved far away up Norman Lane. With what relief I dialled Chicken and ordered myself cream of spinach soup, lamb cutlets and Cheddar cheese: a better meal than I had eaten in Istanbul. Then I went into the garden. Major Charge had neglected the dahlias; it was a pleasure to give them water, which the dry soil drank like a thirsty man, and I could almost imagine that the flowers were responding with a lift of the petals. The Deuil du Roy Albert was too far gone to benefit, but the colour of the Ben Hurs took on a new sheen, as though the long dry chariot race were now a memory only. Major Charge looked over the fence and asked, Good journey?
Interesting, thank you, I said dryly, pouring the water in a thick stream on to the roots. I had removed the absurd nozzle which serves no useful purpose.
I was very careful, Major Charge said, not to give them too much water.
The ground certainly seems very dry.
I keep goldfish, Major Charge said. If I go away, my damned daily always gives them too much food. When I return I find half the little buggers dead.
Flowers are not the same as goldfish, Major. In a dry autumn like this they can do with a great deal of water.
I hate excess, Major Charge said. Its the same in politics. Ive no use for Communist or Fascist.
You are a Liberal?
Good God, man, he said, what makes you think that? and disappeared from sight.
The afternoon post arrived punctually at five: a circular from Littlewoods, although I never gamble, a bill from the garage, a pamphlet from the British Empire Loyalists which I threw at once into the waste-paper basket, and a letter with a South African stamp. The envelope was typewritten, so that I did not at once conclude that it had been sent by Miss Keene. I was distracted too by a package of Omo[169] propped against the scraper. I had certainly not ordered any detergent. I looked closer and saw that it was a gift package. What a lot of money manufacturers waste by not employing the local stores to do their distribution. There they would have known that I am already a regular purchaser of Omo. I took the packet into the kitchen and noticed with pleasure that mine was almost exhausted, so I had been saved from buying another.
It was getting chilly by this time, and I turned on the electric fire before opening the letter. I saw at once that it came from Miss Keene. She had bought herself a typewriter, but it was obvious that as yet she had not had much practice. Lines were unevenly placed, and her fingers had often gone astray to the wrong keys or missed a letter altogether. She had driven in, she wrote, to Koffiefontein three hours by road to a matinée of Gone with the Qind[170] which had been revived at a cinema there. She wrote that Clark Fable was not as good as she remembered him. How typical it was of her gentleness, and perhaps even of her sense of defeat, that she had not troubled to correct her errors. Perhaps it would have seemed to her like disguising a fault. Once a week, she wrote, my cousin drives into the bak. Shes on very good terms with the manger, but he is not a real friend as you always were to my father and me. I miss very much St. Johns Church and the vicars sermons. The only church near here is Dutch Deformed, and I dont like it at all. She had corrected Deformed. She may have thought that otherwise I might take it for an unkindness.