Eric Ambler: Journey Into Fear

Memories were flooding into Graham’s mind: of the Arab girl, Maria, saying, “She has many lovers”; of Kopeikin saying, “José? He does well for himself”; of Josette herself saying of José that he was jealous of her only when she neglected business for pleasure; of innumerable little phrases and attitudes. “Well?” he said coldly.

José shrugged. “If you are amusing yourself, we cannot earn our two thousand francs a week by dancing. So, you see, we must get it from somewhere else.” In the semi-darkness, Graham could see a small smile twist the black line of José’s mouth. “Two thousand francs a week. It is reasonable, eh?”

It was the voice of the philosopher of the apes in velvet. “Mon cher caïd” was justifying his existence. Graham nodded. “Quite reasonable.”

“Then we can settle it now, eh?” José went on briskly. “You are experienced, eh? You know that it is the custom.” He grinned and then quoted: “ ‘Chéri, avant que je t’aime t’oublieras pas mon petit cadeau.’ ”

“I see. And who do I pay? You or Josette?”

“You can pay it to Josette if you like, but that would not be very chic , eh? I will see you once a week.” He leaned forward and patted Graham’s knee. “It is serious, eh? You will be a good boy? If you were, for example, to begin now.…”

Graham stood up. He was surprised at his own calmness. “I think,” he said, “that I should like to give the money to Josette herself.”

“You don’t trust me, eh?”

“Of course I trust you. Will you find Josette?”

José hesitated, then, with a shrug, got up and went out into the corridor. A moment later he returned with Josette. She was smiling a little nervously.

“You have finished talking to José, chéri ?”

Graham nodded pleasantly. “Yes. But, as I told you, it was you I really wanted to talk to. I wanted to explain that I shall have to go straight back to England after all.”

She stared at him blankly for a moment; then he saw her lips drawing in viciously over her teeth. She turned suddenly on José.

“You dirty Spanish fool!” She almost spat the words at him. “What do you think I keep you for? Your dancing?”

José’s eyes glittered dangerously. He slid the door to behind him. “Now,” he said, “we will see. You shall not speak to me so or I shall break your teeth.”

“Salaud! I shall speak to you as I like.” She was standing quite still, but her right hand moved an inch or two. Something glittered faintly. She had slipped the diamanté bracelet she was wearing over her knuckles.

Graham had seen enough violence for one day. He said quickly: “Just a moment. José is not to blame. He explained matters very tactfully and politely. I came, as I said, to tell you that I have to go straight back to England. I was also going to ask you to accept a small present. It was this.” He drew out his wallet, produced a ten-pound note, and held it near the light.

She glanced at the note and then stared at him sullenly. “Well?”

“José made it clear that two thousand francs was the amount I owed. This note is only worth just over seventeen hundred and fifty. So, I am adding another two hundred and fifty francs.” He took the French notes out of his wallet, folded them up in the larger note and held them out.

She snatched them from him. “And what do you expect to get for this?” she demanded spitefully.

“Nothing. It’s been pleasant being able to talk to you.” He slid the door open. “Good-bye, Josette.”

She shrugged her shoulders, stuffed the money into the pocket of her fur coat and sat down again in her corner. “Good-bye. It is not my fault if you are stupid.”

José laughed. “If you should think of changing your mind, Monsieur,” he began mincingly, “we …”

Graham shut the door and walked away along the corridor. His one desire was to get back to his own compartment. He did not notice Mathis until he had almost bumped into him.

The Frenchman drew back to let him pass. Then, with a gasp, he leaned forward.

“Monsieur Graham! Is it possible?”

“I was looking for you,” said Graham.

“My dear friend. I am so glad. I was wondering.… I was afraid.…”

“I caught the train at Asti.” He pulled the revolver from his pocket. “I wanted to return this to you with my thanks. I’m afraid that I haven’t had time to clean it. It has been fired twice.”

“Twice!” Mathis’ eyes widened. “You killed them both?”

“One of them. The other died in a road accident.”

“A road accident!” Mathis chuckled. “That is a new way to kill them!” He looked at the revolver affectionately. “Perhaps I will not clean it. Perhaps I will keep it as it is as a souvenir.” He glanced up. “It was all right, that message I delivered?”

“Quite all right, and thank you again.” He hesitated. “There’s no restaurant car on the train. I have some sandwiches in my compartment. If you and your wife would like to join me.…”

“You are kind, but no thank you. We get off at Aix. It will not be long now. My family lives there. It will be strange to see them after so long. They …”

The door of the compartment behind him opened and Madame Mathis peered into the corridor. “Ah, there you are!” She recognised Graham and nodded disapprovingly.

“What is it, chérie ?”

“The window. You open it, and go out to smoke. I am left to freeze.”

“Then you may shut it, chérie.”

“Imbecile! It is too stiff.”

Mathis sighed wearily and held out his hand. “Good-bye, my friend. I shall be discreet. You may depend upon it.”

“Discreet?” demanded Madame Mathis suspiciously. “What is there to be discreet about?”

“Ah, you may ask!” He winked at Graham. “Monsieur and I have made a plot to blow up the Bank of France, seize the Chamber of Deputies, shoot the two hundred families and set up a Communist government.”

She looked round apprehensively. “You should not say such things, even for a joke.”

“A joke!” He scowled at her malevolently. “You will see if it is a joke or not when we drag these capitalist reptiles from their great houses and cut them to pieces with machine-guns.”

“Robert! If someone should hear you say such things …”

“Let them hear!”

“I only asked you to shut the window, Robert. If it had not been so stiff I would have done it myself. I …” The door closed behind them.

Graham stood for a moment looking out of the window at the distant searchlights: grey smudges moving restlessly among the clouds low down on the horizon. It was not, he reflected, unlike the skyline that he could see from his bedroom window when there were German planes about over the North Sea.

He turned and made his way back to his beer and sandwiches.