“Precisely!” snarled Graham. “I could have gone ashore, taken a train and been safe in Paris by now.”
Mr. Kuvetli considered the criticism for a moment and then slowly shook his head. “I do not think so. You have forgotten Monsieur Moeller. I do not think that he and Banat would have stayed on the boat very long if you had not returned by sailing time.”
Graham laughed shortly. “Did you know that then?”
Mr. Kuvetli contemplated dirty fingernails. “I will be very honest, Monsieur Graham. I did not know it. I knew of Monsieur Moeller, of course. I was, through an intermediary, once offered a large sum of money to work for him. I had seen a photograph of him. But photographs are mostly useless. I did not recognise him. The fact that he came aboard at Istanbul prevented my suspecting him. Banat’s behaviour made me think that I had overlooked something, and when I saw him talking to the Herr Professor I made some inquiries.”
“He says that you searched his cabin.”
“I did. I found letters addressed to him in Sofia.”
“There has,” said Graham bitterly, “been quite a lot of cabin searching. Last night Banat stole my revolver from my suitcase. This evening I went to his cabin and tried to find his gun, the gun he used on me in Istanbul. It was not there. When I returned to my cabin, Moeller was there with Banat’s gun.”
Mr. Kuvetli had been listening gloomily. “If,” he now said, “you will please tell me what Moeller had to say we shall both get to sleep much sooner.”
Graham smiled. “You know, Kuvetli, I have had several surprises on this ship. You are the first pleasant one.” And then the smile faded. “Moeller came to tell me that unless I agree to delay my return to England for six weeks I shall be murdered within five minutes of my landing in Genoa. He says that apart from Banat, he has other men waiting in Genoa to do the killing.”
Mr. Kuvetli did not seem surprised. “And where does he suggest that you should spend the six weeks?”
“In a villa near Santa Margherita. The idea is that I should be certified by a doctor as suffering from typhus and that I should stay in this villa as if it were a clinic. Moeller and Banat would be the medical staff if anyone should come out from England to see me. He proposes, you see, to involve me in the deception so that I cannot tell tales afterwards.”
Mr. Kuvetli raised his eyebrows. “And how was I concerned?”
Graham told him.
“And, believing Monsieur Moeller, you decided to ignore his advice and tell me about his suggestion?” Mr. Kuvetli beamed approvingly. “That was very courageous of you, Monsieur.”
Graham reddened. “Do you think that I might have agreed?”
Mr. Kuvetli misunderstood. “I think nothing,” he said hastily. “But”-he hesitated-“when a person’s life is in danger he is not always quite normal. He may do things which he would not do in the ordinary way. He cannot be blamed.”
Graham smiled. “I will be frank with you. I came to you now instead of in the morning so that there could be no chance of my thinking things over and deciding to take his advice after all.”
“What is important is,” said Mr. Kuvetli quietly, “that you have in fact come to me. Did you tell him that you were going to do so?”
“No. I told him that I thought he was bluffing.”
“And do you think that he was?”
“I don’t know.”
Mr. Kuvetli scratched his armpits thoughtfully. “There are so many things to be considered. And it depends on what you mean by saying that he is bluffing. If you mean that he could not or would not kill you, I think you are wrong. He could and would.”
“But how? I have a Consul. What is to prevent my getting into a taxi at the dock and going straight to the Consulate? I could arrange for some sort of protection there.”
Mr. Kuvetli lit another cigarette. “Do you know where the British Consulate-General in Genoa is?”
“The taxi-driver would know.”
“I can tell you myself. It is at the corner of the Via Ippolito d’Aste. This ship docks at the Ponte San Giorgio in the Vittorio Emanuele basin, several kilometres away from your Consulate. I have travelled this way before and so I know what I am saying. Genoa is a great port. I doubt, Monsieur Graham, whether you would complete one of those kilometres. They will be waiting for you with a car. When you took the taxi they would follow you as far as the Via Francia, then force the taxi on to the pavement and shoot you as you sit there.”
“I could telephone to the Consul from the dock.”
“Certainly you could. But you would have to go through the Customs shed first. You would then have to wait for the Consul to arrive. Wait, Monsieur! Do you understand what that means? Let us suppose that you were to reach the Consul by telephone immediately and convince him that your case was urgent. You would still have to wait at least half an hour for him. Let me tell you that your chances of surviving that half-hour would not be lessened if you spent it drinking prussic acid. To kill an unarmed, unguarded man is never difficult. Among the sheds on the quay it would be simplicity itself. No, I do not think Moeller is bluffing when he says that he can kill you.”
“But what about this proposal? He seemed very eager to persuade me to agree.”
Mr. Kuvetli fingered the back of his head. “There could be several explanations of that. For instance, it is possible that his intention is to kill you in any case and that he wishes to do so with as little trouble as possible. One cannot deny that it would be easier to kill you on the road to Santa Margherita than on the waterfront at Genoa.”
“That’s a pleasing idea.”
“I am inclined to think that it is the correct one.” Mr. Kuvetli frowned. “You see, this proposal of his looks very simple-you are taken ill, there is a forged medical certificate, you get better, you go home. Voilà! It is done. But think now of the actuality. You are an Englishman in a hurry to get to England. You land in Genoa. What would you do normally? Take the train for Paris, without a doubt. But what is it necessary to do now? You must, for some mysterious reason, remain in Genoa long enough to discover that you have typhus. Also you must not do what anyone else would do in those circumstances-you must not go to a hospital. You must instead go to a private clinic near Santa Margherita. Is it possible that it would not be thought in England that your behaviour was curious? I think not. Furthermore, typhus is a disease which must be notified to the authorities. That could not be done in this case because there would be no typhus and the medical authorities would soon discover the fact. And supposing your friends discover that your case has not been notified. They might. You are of some importance. The British Consul might be asked to investigate. And then what? No, I cannot see Monsieur Moeller taking such absurd risks. Why should he? It would be easier to kill you.”
“He says that he does not like having people killed if he can help it.”
Mr. Kuvetli giggled. “He must think you very stupid indeed. Did he tell you what he would do about my presence here?”
“No.”
“I am not surprised. For that plan to succeed as he explained it to you, there would be only one thing he could do-kill me. And even when he had killed me I should still embarrass him. Colonel Haki would see to that. I am afraid that Monsieur’s proposal is not very honest.”