Ten minutes later the Frenchman left them, and his last words were: 'Remember, please, that time is short,
All our previous efforts to stave off war will have been
wasted unless Paxito Zirrif is dead by the first of May,'
6
The opening of the Campaign
Speed ! Speed ! Speed ! That was the essential factor which now dominated their mission, as emerged very clearly from the conference that Christopher, Valerie, and Lovelace held immediately Monsieur Paul Barrotet had departed.
The Millers of God had planned that Christopher should arrive in Athens a week before Paxito Zirrif was expected to start for Abyssinia. Six days had now been lost, owing to Christopher taking the longer route from the United States in order to keep his departure secret. It was imperative, therefore, that they should make every possible effort to reach the Greek capital within the next twenty four hours.
`It's ten to eleven,' said Valerie. `We've nothing to pack but our handbags. If we leave at once I can take you the best part of the way today.'
Lovelace shook his head. `We can't have you mixed up in this horrible business any further.'
`Nonsense. If you go by train you're certain to miss him, and here am I placing my perfectly good plane at your disposal.'
`I know, but Christopher's as rich as Croesus. There's nothing to stop him chartering a plane to take us.'
Valerie sniffed contemptuously. 'And what sort of a pilot would you get? Think of the delay, too, in making the necessary arrangements.'
'That's true,' Christopher agreed. `And after all, why shouldn't she fly us down to Athens as long as we keep her out of things once we're there?'
Lovelace stared at the rash, good looking young pair of lovers angrily. If he had been Valerie's fiancé his attitude would have been very different. Nothing would have induced him to allow her to be even remotely connected with these dubious schemes. He had promised his assistance in an affair about which he did not yet care to think for more than two moments together, and Christopher was pledged beyond retreat. Their enemies were known to be organised and on the watch for them. Even if Christopher brought his mission to a successful conclusion, it was certain that the enemy would endeavour to exact vengeance, not only on him, but on anyone known to be associated with him. How could he expose the girl to such obvious danger? Lovelace could not understand it, and yet he saw two things clearly. The boy was obsessed by his crusade to the exclusion of all reasonable thought, and he was the girl's fiancé. Having registered a protest, what right had an outsider to interfere further between the two of them?
`Let's go, then shall we?' Valerie picked up her bag and hurried from the room, cutting short any further discussion as to whether they meant to let her take them, and a quarter of an hour later they were discussing flying times in a taxi on the way to the airport.
`If we can get away by midday I ought to be able to get you down to Brindisi before nightfall,' Valerie said. `We'll sleep there and, all being well, be in Athens by lunch time tomorrow.'
`I'm glad I've been picked for the job glad!' Christopher's voice held a note of exaltation as he cut in. `If anyone ever deserved death this man Zirrif does.'
`Don't, Christopher! Don't let's talk of it.' Valerie laid a restraining hand upon his arm. Her face was pale under the chestnut hair. Much paler than usual, Lovelace noted. Her big eyes stared into his, seeking comfort and reassurance, but he had none to give her.
He could only make a little shrugging gesture which was meant to convey sympathy and understanding. For the rest of the journey they bumped over the pave in silence. A few moments later they were walking across the Le Bourget air field to the hangar that housed Valerie's plane.
When they had come in that morning she had given orders for it to he looked over and prepared for further flights, so they found it all in readiness.
Owing to her reputation in the air world quite a little crowd collected to see them start. Numerous courteous officials attended to the formalities with special dispatch, and one gallant Frenchman declared; 'It is a pleasure to be of service to Mademoiselle Lorne; to meet her personally and see that she is as beautiful as she is brave.'
Within an hour of Barrotet having left them they were in the air and Le Bourget fading into the grey landscape behind them.
By two fifteen they were over Nice, the white villas on its outskirts looking like little dots among the greygreen of olive trees, and the Mediterranean appearing like a placid lake; the lapping of its waters on the curving beaches only becoming perceptible as they descended towards the airport.
The climate was considerably warmer, and they were enabled to enjoy a belated luncheon in the open. Over it they studiously avoided any mention of the reason for their journey. It was very pleasant there eating Omelette aux Champignons and Poulet Vallee D'Auge, washed down with a carafe of red Provence wine; while the idle, well dressed crowd passed in and out, waiting for the great airliners to bring new arrivals to the coast of pleasure, and the scent of the late mimosa on the tables filled the air with fragrance.
When they set off to complete the longer part of the day's run Valerie declared the afternoon to be perfect flying weather, She climbed very high and set a course dead for Naples. As they passed over the beautiful bay, and saw the little spiral of smoke rising from Mount Vesuvius on their right, she turned east through the gap in the mountains and brought them down safely at Brindisi, on the heel of Italy, well before dusk had fallen.
Lovelace thought it safer for them to sleep at a small, unpretentious hotel in the town than at the airport; feeling that they could not be too careful. Christopher had managed to slip out of America before the enemy organization knew he had started, but they would be on the watch for him in Europe.
No private sitting room was available, so after dinner they sat on in the deserted salle a manger, and made a more careful examination of the papers Barrotet had left them.
There was the stolen letter which was to serve as an introduction to Paxito Zirrif. It was in Amharic, but a translation was attached which showed it to be a simple statement that the bearer, Mr. Jeremiah Green, was a trusted friend of the writer, and would give Zirrif the latest authentic news from Addis Ababa. It also confirmed the first of May as the date fixed for `that business of which your Excellency knows,' and it was signed by `The High Noble Lord. Ras Desoum.'
`He's a personal friend of the Emperor,' Lovelace said. `As luck would have it, I met him when I was out there. He wasn't very popular about the Court, but the Negus liked him because he was educated in Europe.'
What're the other papers?' Valerie asked.
Christopher ran his eyes over them. `Particulars about Zirrif. The routine he follows when he's at home in Athens, a list of his servants, and all about his bodyguard. Six armed men are always in the house, apparently, and two of them on duty every hour of the night and day. This last is a plan of his house.'
`Let me see that may I?' Lovelace took the plan and studied it for a moment.
`It's a biggish place,' he remarked, `and the whole of the ground floor is given up to reception rooms; “rarely used, kept shuttered and all windows wired with electric burglar alarms,” it says in a note in the margin. The first floor, north side, is where the spider spins his poisonous web. Look! The first room, which runs the width of the house as you turn left off the landing, is marked “secretary's room,” the next, larger and the whole width of the house again, is Zarrif’s workroom. Beyond that there's a valet's room facing west one of the thugs sits there all night, I expect and bathroom, W.C., etc., facing east. Then, at the extreme end of the house, comes his bedroom. There's no way of reaching that without going through the others first. On the opposite side of the landing are the dining room, library, and clerk's office. The top floor is only bedrooms for the staff.'