Chapter 1- part two

                        II

Vera Claythorne, in a third-class carriage with five other travellers in it, leaned her head back and shut her eyes. How hot it was travelling by train today! It would be nice to get to the sea! Really a great piece of luck getting this job. When you wanted a holiday post it nearly always meant looking after a swarm of children--secretarial holiday posts were much more difficult to get. Even the agency hadn't held out much hope.

And then the letter had come.

'i have received your name from the Skilled Women's Agency together with their recommendations. I understand they know you personally. I shall be glad to pay you the salary you ask and shall expect you to take up your duties on August 8th. The train is the 12.49 from Paddington and you will be met at Oakbridge station

I enclose five €1 notes for expenses

   Your truly,

       Una Nancy Owen.'

And at the top was the stamped address, Soldier Island, Sticklehaven, Devon...

Soldier Island! Why, there had been nothing else in the papers lately! All sorts of hints and interesting rumours. Though probably they were mostly untrue. But the house had certainly been built by a millionaire and was said to be absolutely the last word in luxury.

Vera Claythorne, tried by a recent strenuous term at school, thought to herself, 'Being a games mistress in a third class school isn't much of a catch... If only I could a job at some decent school.'

And then , with a cold feeling round her heart, she thought 'But I'm lucky to have even this. After all, people don't like a Coroner's Inquest, even if the Coroner did acquit me of all blame!'

He has even complimented her on her presence of mind and courage, she remembered. For an inquest it couldn't have gone better. And Mrs Hamilton had been kindness itself to her--Only Hugo--but she wouldn't think of Hugo!

Suddenly, in spite of the heat in the carriage she shivered and wished she wasn't going to the sea. A picture rose clearly before her mind. Cyril's head, bobbing up and down, swimming to the rock...  Up and down--up and down...

And herself, swimming in easy practiced strokes after him--- cleaning her way through the water but knowing, only too surely, that she wouldn't be in time...

The sea--its deep warm blue--mornings spent lying out on the sands--Hugo--Hugo who has said he loved her..

She must not think of Hugo...

She opened her eyes and frowned across at the man opposite her. A tall man with a brown face, light eyes set rather close together and an arrogant, almost crule mouth.

She thought to herself:

I bet he's been to some interesting parts of the world and seen some interesting things....

                                     III

Philip Lombard, summing up the girl opposite in a mere flash of his quick moving eyes thought to himself:

'Quite attractive--a but schoolmistressy perhaps.'

A cool customer, he should imagine--and one who could hold her own--in love or war. He'd rather like to take her on....

He frowned. No, cut out all that kind of stuff. This was business. He'd got to keep his mind on the job.

What exactly was up, he wondered? That little Jew had been dammed mysterious.

      'Take it or leave it, Captain Lormbard.'

He had said thoughtfully:

       'A hundred guineas, eh?'

He had said it in a casual way as though a hundred guineas was nothing to him. A hundred guineas when he was literally down to his last square of meal! He had fancied, though that the little Jew had not been deceived--that was the damnable part about Jews, you couldn't deceive them about money--they knew!

He said in the same casual tone:

   'And you can't give me any further information?'

Mr Isaac Morris had shaken his little bald head very positively.

  'No, Captain Lombard, the matter rests there. It is understood by my client that your reputation is that of a good man in a tight place. I am empowered to hand you one hundred guineas in return of which you will travel to Sticklehaven, Devon. The nearest station is Oakbridge, you will be met there and motored to Sticklehaven where a motor launch will convey you to Soldier Island. There you will hold yourself at the disposal of my client.'

Lombard has said abruptly:

'For how long?'

'Not longer than a week at most.'

Fingering his small moustache, Captain Lombard said:

'You understand I can't undertake anything---illegal?'

He had started a very sharp glance at the other as he had spoken. There had been a very faint smile on the thick Semitic lips of Mr Morris as he answered gravely:

   'If anything illegal is proposed, you will, of course, be at perfect liberty to withdraw.'

Damn the smooth little brute, he had smiled! It was as though he knew very well that in Lombard's past actions legality had not always been sine qua non...

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