Palace Circle Part 32

It was just after ten o'clock and Jack noted that his father looked deeply pleased at the pocket of time he had been given.

"As for you, Major Bazeljette," his father said, smiling as he greeted him last of all. "Who dropped word to you of my arrival?"

"Brigadier Haigh, sir," Jack said with a grin, as mindful as Ivor had been that this was a formal occasion.

"Then I'm sure Brigadier Haigh will be happy for you to accompany Andrew and me to Nile House," Jerome said, adding in a low voice as he turned away from the reception committee, "The ride into Cairo might be the only time we get to talk to each other, Jack."

Hoping that the male secretary who had accompanied his father would be traveling in a separate car, he strode across to where Slade was waiting for him.

"You're to return to GHQ on your own, Slade."

"Yes, Major." Slade was bewildered. "And how will you be traveling back to Cairo, sir?"

"I'll be traveling with my father, Slade," he said, and as Slade's jaw dropped, Jack walked back to where Jerome and Andrew were seated in the rear of a black limousine.

"Andrew, I'd like to introduce you to my son, Jack," Jerome said as the big car swung away from the airstrip. "Jack wasn't much older than you now are when he first came out to Cairo and stayed at Nile House. You'll find living there very different from s.h.i.+bden Hall, but you'll soon get acclimatized."

Andrew gave both of them a shy smile. "I already like the sun, sir. It doesn't s.h.i.+ne much in Norfolk."

Jerome said, gently putting the boy at ease, "Jack and I have quite a lot of talking to do, Andrew, and only a little while in which to do it. It would be best if you tried not to listen and concentrated on looking out for camels and a glimpse of the pyramids. Anything you hear I'd like you to keep to yourself. Okay?"

"Okay, sir," Andrew said solemnly. "I'm a Cub Scout. I know all about keeping secrets." And he turned his back to the two of them and began looking intently out of the window.

"I'm here for forty-eight hours, Jack." Jerome gave Jack's hand a fatherly pat. "It's the usual thing. Winston wants me to talk with Auchinleck and Sir Miles Lampson and get the feel of the mood out here. Needless to say, I'm going to squeeze in as much time with Delia as I can. Incidentally, my secretary is going straight on to general headquarters and Ivor isn't following us to Nile House. He doesn't want his divorce from Delia to be scuppered by the accusation of collusion. Now, what is the situation with your brief?"

Jack's response was unhesitating. "It's grim. My monitoring group have targeted a coded transmission being sent from Gezira Island. So far they haven't been able to pinpoint its exact location. The b.u.g.g.e.r transmitting doesn't stay on the air long enough. I reckon he's only a radio operator, but if we could trace him we'd then be able to lay hands on our spy. It has to be someone with access to military secrets, and I've scrupulously checked every b.l.o.o.d.y brigadier and colonel at GHQ with authority to take top secret information out of the building. None of them has an Egyptian girlfriend or buddy who could be pa.s.sing them on."

As the limousine neared Cairo's poverty-stricken outskirts Jack paused for a second, and then said, "I've also learned that emba.s.sy staff at attache level have authorization to see whatever military information they deem necessary, so they are my next line of inquiry. Getting information on names and backgrounds isn't easy because the emba.s.sy doesn't want to cooperate. I've got a gut instinct about the leak coming from the emba.s.sy. When you get back to London, I'd greatly appreciate it if you would send me the kind of information I'm after."

"Will do. Your brief allows you to go anywhere and interrogate anyone, doesn't it?"

Jack nodded.

"Then don't be afraid of tackling the emba.s.sy. If Tobruk falls, Cairo will be Rommel's next stop. And the domino effect won't stop there. If he takes Cairo, he'll have control of Suez and once that happens, we'll lose our route to India, Singapore, and Australia, and access to the Arabian oilfields."

Jerome didn't add that then the war would be over, with the Allies defeated and the Axis powers victorious, because he didn't need to.

The prospect of losing the war was so horrendous that they were silent for a minute. Then, as the limousine became clogged in the chaotic traffic of Kasr el-Nil Street, Jerome turned the conversation to family matters. "How is Fawzia, Jack? I should have asked you earlier. Was your arrival in Cairo a surprise for her?"

"It was. And not a pleasant one. We've agreed to divorce."

Jerome's eyebrows rose but to Jack's relief he made no comment. Jack realized that his news hadn't come as a surprise- though he was pretty sure that when he mentioned Farouk's name, Jerome would be shocked.

As the limousine cruised through the wide leafy streets of Garden City Jerome said, "I've asked whether the Royal Horse Artillery could organize an ad hoc polo match while I'm here-and if so, you and Darius could play."

"Brilliant. I've barely seen Darius since I've been here and far too little of Davina."

His father was, he knew, about to ask after Petra, but they were already at the house. Andrew was saying, round-eyed, "Is this where I'm to live? Right next to the river?"

Jack could see Davina's little Morris parked on the far side of the drive and as Jerome said, "It is, indeed, Andrew. And at the rear of the house there are donkeys," Davina hurtled out of the house.

The chauffeur opened the door for Jerome while Davina ran around to Andrew's side of the car. "Welcome to Nile House, Andrew," she said with a beaming smile. "I'm Davina, and please don't look so startled. Nile House isn't a hospital. I'm only in nurse's uniform because I've come straight from work in order to welcome you."

"That's all right," Andrew said comfortably as he stepped out of the car. "I didn't think it was a hospital," he added as she held out her hand and he slipped his hand into it, "because hospitals don't have gardens and donkeys, do they?"

"Jerome! Jerome!" Delia came out of the house as if her feet were winged, a blazing smile of joy on her face.

With a shout of exultation Jerome strode toward her and as she threw herself into his arms he swung her off the ground as if she were a young girl.

It was extraordinary behavior for a middle-aged statesman and Jack was grateful there was no one there to witness it but himself, Davina, Andrew-and a rather startled chauffeur.

"You must have a drink," Davina said to Andrew, as Delia, her feet once more in touch with the ground, led the way into Nile House. "A welcome drink is traditional and Adjo will be impatient to meet you. When I arrived in Cairo, Adjo was my very first Egyptian friend and I'm sure he'll soon be yours."

In the relative coolness of the vast drawing room Jack took off his peaked cap and accepted from a safragi one of the rose-water drinks he found so sickly sweet. Jerome and Delia still had their arms around each other's waist and he looked across to Davina to see how she was taking this blatant statement of the open way the two of them now intended conducting their relations.h.i.+p.

She showed no sign of being startled and he realized that, like him, she had probably known for a decade what the lay of the land was between his father and her mother.

"I'm just going to show Andrew to his room," she said as Andrew manfully downed his drink, "and then, as matron has given me the rest of the afternoon off, I'm going to spend it showing him around Cairo."

"I'm seeing General Auchinleck at one o'clock," Jack heard his father say to Delia. "Then I'm meeting with Sir Miles Lampson. Tomorrow I shall be going into the desert to have a look at our forward positions. Winston wants a firsthand account. I'm hoping a polo match is going to be arranged, but whether I'll be able to get to it is doubtful. Other than that, this next hour is all the time we're going to have together."

Aware that their conversation was becoming increasingly personal, Jack moved away. When Davina and Andrew rejoined him the boy said happily, "I can see the pyramids from my bedroom window. And Davina is going to take me on a sailboat on the river. Adjo says the sailboats are called feluccas."

"I shall be staying here for a little longer," Jerome said to Jack, putting his arm around Jack's shoulders. "You can take the limousine if you need it-just as long as you send it back."

"I don't need it, Dad. If I don't see you at the polo match, have a safe flight back to London."

Aware that it was highly possible they wouldn't see each other for a long time they hugged and then, following in Davina and Andrew's wake, Jack walked out of the room and out of the house.

Davina and Andrew were already piling into her open-topped little Morris and she asked him if he wanted a lift.

He shook his head. "I'm going back to Grey Pillars. Getting in and out of that car would be more trouble than it's worth."

It was then he realized he'd left his cap behind.

With a sigh of irritation he turned back toward the house.

As he walked from the entrance hall into the drawing room there was no sign of his father and Delia.

He picked up his cap and as he left the room, he heard the sound of laughter from the floor above him and seconds later the slam of a bedroom door.

He looked at his watch. It was eleven forty-five. As he walked into the fierce sunlight he grinned, knowing very well why his father had been so pleased to have an hour free before he had to leave for his meeting with General Auchinleck.

The polo match took place on the day his father was scheduled to leave. As it was such an impromptu match the only spectators were family and friends. Neither Jack nor Darius cared. For the first time they found themselves playing on the same team and as their ponies twisted and turned it was as if the years had rolled back to the days before the war, when they were just compet.i.tive friends.

Jack was playing in Number Three position and as he fed the ball to Darius, he gave a whoop of triumph. Despite the attacking Royal Horse Artillery he knew Darius was going to score.

Riding like a barbarian, his friend defeated all the opposing team's efforts to block him and thwacked the ball straight between the posts. Elatedly Jack stood up in his stirrups, his polo s.h.i.+rt soaking wet, unable to remember when he had last enjoyed himself so much.

Lunch was a family picnic in a quiet corner of the sporting club's flower-filled grounds. To Jack's disappointment, Darius had an urgent meeting and so wasn't able to be with them. Sholto, who hadn't been at the polo match, wasn't with them either.

"So far, I've never seen Petra and Sholto together," Jack said to Davina as they sat a little distance from where Petra was spreading a white tablecloth on the gra.s.s and Delia was unpacking the picnic food prepared by the club's chef. "When I asked Delia how Petra and Sholto were, she simply said 'fine' and changed the subject. When I asked Petra how Sholto was, she also changed the subject. From which I gather that things are far from fine."

"You're probably right, but I truthfully don't know, Jack. Petra never speaks about her marriage."

As Delia lifted silver cutlery from a hamper, Andrew said chattily, "When we had picnics in Caithness, my mother always used to sing the Happy Song."

"The Happy Song?" Delia had begun slicing a large quiche. "Now what song would that be?"

"It's always the same one. It's any song you sing when you are really happy. We always chose 'The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond.' Don't you have a Happy Song?"

"I don't think we do, Andrew." There was regret in Delia's voice as she slid a slice of quiche onto a plate.

"Oh, yes, we have," said Davina. "It's 'Dixie.' You've been singing it at every family occasion since I can remember."

"That's true, Delia," Jerome said, a gleam in his gold-flecked eyes. "Though I remember an occasion, on the day we first met, when Ivor specifically forbade you from ever singing it again."

"Ah, well." Delia's voice was full of mischief. "That was when dear Ivor thought he'd married a very different girl from the one he actually had. How about I sing it now? Would you like that, Andrew?"

Andrew nodded and Delia handed the plate of quiche to Jerome and then launched into the song that reminded her of Sans Souci and her long exhilarating rides in the rolling countryside of her birth.

Jack looked across at Petra. All afternoon she had done her best to put as much s.p.a.ce between them as possible. She had hardly spoken to anyone else, either. More often than not, when he had looked across at her, she had been looking toward his father, an expression in her eyes that he couldn't for the life of him fathom.

As Delia came to the last verse, they all joined in the chorus. Afterward Petra said, her voice strained, "I'm going for a walk. I won't be long, Jerome. I'll be back to say goodbye before you leave."

It was a reminder that the car that was to take Jerome to the airport was already waiting. In less than an hour he would be speeding to Heliopolis.

Jack watched her walk away. He knew she was bitterly unhappy. Everyone knew she was bitterly unhappy. But she wouldn't talk to him; she wouldn't let him close to her in any way at all.

He stood up and walked quickly after her.

She was heading in the direction of the clubhouse and he caught up with her at the lavender-lined path.

Seizing her arm, he swung her around to face him. "Talk to me," he said urgently. "We may not be lovers, but we can at least be friends! Don't keep yourself so isolated. I love you. I've always loved you. I want to help you. Tell me what's wrong."

"I can't!" In the strong sunlight he saw that there were deep circles under her eyes, and her skin was so pale it was almost translucent. "There's so much wrong, Jack! It isn't just you and me-it's other things. Things I can't speak about; not until I'm sure."

"What kind of things?" There was a different urgency in his voice, for her green eyes were frantic with an expression he'd seen all too often in interrogations. She was frightened- and he had to know why.

"Later, Jack. I just need a little more time." Her face was bloodless. "Please give my apologies to Jerome. I can't go back and say goodbye. Not now."

She tried to turn away from him, but he held her fast, his heart pounding. "You have to tell me what it is you're so scared of, Petra," he said fiercely. "I'll slay every dragon in the world for you, but I have to know where danger lies. I love you. You can trust me with your life!"

"I know that, Jack! Please don't ever think I don't know that!"

A group of people were coming down the pathway and she twisted so suddenly that this time she escaped his grasp. He tried to catch hold of her again, but a woman between them stumbled and fell in front of him. By the time he had disentangled himself from her, Petra was yards away, running toward the car park.

He was about to sprint after her when a club official hurried up to him. "There's an urgent phone call for you from general headquarters, Major Bazeljette."

Uttering a curse he seldom used, Jack gave Petra one last look and headed for the clubhouse.

The caller was Archie.

"Sorry to disturb you, Jack," he said apologetically, "but thought you should know that Sadat's in Cairo again. The minute our informer at the station rang in I set Slade on his tail and he has just contacted me to say that Sadat has boarded a houseboat on Gezira."

Jack felt as if a ton weight had just slammed into his chest.

"South of the island?" he said, praying to G.o.d it was one of the houseboats near to the English Bridge.

"No." Archie was happily oblivious of Jack's concern. "At the Zamalek end. The name of the houseboat is the Egyptian Queen."

TWENTY-NINE.

Jack fought the temptation to head straight to Zamalek. No law was being broken and Sadat was being tailed only because he was known to be a member of a subversive group. It wasn't a crime for which he could be jailed. Action could be taken against the Free Officers only if they began an open rebellion. If Sadat became aware that he was being tailed-and he would become aware of it if a British intelligence officer showed up on the houseboat-keeping close tabs on him would become impossible. All Jack could do was step up the surveillance on him-and instigate surveillance on Darius.

It was the very last thing in the world that he wanted to do.

Back at GHQ he hesitated, but he knew he had no option. That Sadat had made contact with the owner of the Egyptian Queen was now a matter of record-as was the owner's name.

Jack knew he had to confront Darius about the meeting with Sadat. Darius may have successfully fooled people into believing that his days as a fierce nationalist were over, but Jack knew differently. The war had just caused Darius to go undercover.

He wrote a terse report for Brigadier Haigh. Rang Petra's home number and received no reply. Rang Nile House only to be told that Lady Conisborough had not returned from the airfield. Then, just as Jack was about to send his report to the brigadier, the brigadier sent for him.

With Sadat's file tucked under his arm he made his way along the warren-like corridors to Haigh's office.

The director of military intelligence was not alone.

He had a friend of the Conisboroughs, Bruno Lautens, with him.

As an experienced intelligence officer Jack was well trained in maintaining an impa.s.sive expression, although it took some doing now.

"Sit down, Jack." Since the reminder that Jack's father was a close intimate of the prime minister, Brigadier Haigh's att.i.tude toward him had become increasingly matey. "Circ.u.mstances require that the three of us have a very private talk."

"Circ.u.mstances?" Not looking toward Bruno, Jack put the file down on Haigh's desk.

The brigadier looked at the name and tapped it with his forefinger. "Yes, Jack," he said meaningfully. "These circ.u.mstances."

Bruno was seated to one side of the desk; Jack took the other chair facing the brigadier.

"The latest update in this file," said Brigadier Haigh, "will detail Captain Anwar Sadat's unexpectedly speedy return to Cairo and his visit to your brother-in-law's houseboat. I know all this, Jack, because we're not the only ones interested in Captain Sadat, nor are we the only people keeping him under surveillance. The Americans have a strong interest in him too. I know that you are on social terms with Mr. Lautens, but what he has not been able to disclose, until now, is that he is a high-ranking American intelligence officer."

Jack looked at Bruno. "And archaeology?" he asked. "Was that just a front?"