Free They Came to Baghdad by Agatha Christie Page B

be said that Sir Rupert had kept up his Olympian manner and had taken no notice whatever of his fellow travellers.
    â€œWho does he think he is, I wonder?” thought Victoria to herself. The answer was obvious. He was Sir Rupert Crofton Lee, a celebrity, and she was Victoria Jones, an indifferent shorthand typist, and of no account whatever.
    On arrival at Cairo, Victoria and Mrs. Hamilton Clipp had lunch together. The latter then announced that she was going to nap until six o’clock, and suggested that Victoria might like to go and see the Pyramids.
    â€œI’ve arranged for a car for you, Miss Jones, because I know that owing to your Treasury regulations you won’t be able to cash any money here.”
    Victoria who had in any case no money to cash, was duly grateful, and said so with some effusion.
    â€œWhy, that’s nothing at all. You’ve been very very kind to me. And travelling with dollars everything is easy for us. Mrs. Kitchin—the lady with the two cute children—is very anxious to go also, so I suggested you’d join up with her—if that suits you?”
    So long as she saw the world, anything suited Victoria.
    â€œThat’s fine, then you’d better get off right now.”
    The afternoon at the Pyramids was duly enjoyable. Victoria, though reasonably fond of children, might have enjoyed it more without Mrs. Kitchin’s offspring. Children when sightseeing is in progress are apt to be somewhat of a handicap. The youngest child became so fretful that the two women returned earlier from the expedition than they had meant to do.
    Victoria threw herself on her bed with a yawn. She wished very much that she could stay a week in Cairo—perhaps go up the Nile. “And what would you use for money, my girl?” she asked herself witheringly. It was already a miracle that she was being transported to Baghdad free of charge.
    And what, inquired a cold inward voice, are you going to do once you are landed in Baghdad with only a few pounds in your pocket?
    Victoria waved that query aside. Edward must find her a job. Or failing that, she would find herself a job. Why worry?
    Her eyes, dazzled with strong sunlight, closed gently.
    A knock on the door, as she thought, roused her. She called “Come in,” then as there was no response, she got off the bed, crossed to the door and opened it.
    But the knock had not been at her door, but at the next door down the passage. Another of the inevitable air hostesses, darkhaired and trim in her uniform, was knocking at Sir Rupert Crofton Lee’s door. He opened it just as Victoria looked out.
    â€œWhat’s the matter now?”
    He sounded annoyed and sleepy.
    â€œI’m so sorry to disturb you, Sir Rupert,” cooed the air hostess, “but would you mind coming to the BOAC office? It’s just three doors down the passage here. Just a small detail about the flight to Baghdad tomorrow.”
    â€œOh, very well.”
    Victoria withdrew into her room. She was less sleepy now. She glanced at her watch. Only half past four. An hour and a half until Mrs. Clipp would be requiring her. She decided to go out and walk about Heliopolis. Walking, at least, required no money.
    She powdered her nose and resumed her shoes. They felt rather full of feet. The visit to the Pyramids had been hard on her feet.
    She came out of her room and walked along the corridor towards the main hall of the hotel. Three doors down she passed the BOAC office. It had a card announcing the fact nailed to the door. Just as she passed it, the door opened and Sir Rupert came out. He was walking fast and he overtook her in a couple of strides. He went on ahead of her, his cloak swinging, and Victoria fancied that he was annoyed about something.
    Mrs. Clipp was in a somewhat petulant mood when Victoria reported for duty at six o’clock.
    â€œI’m worried about the excess on my baggage, Miss Jones. I took it that I’d paid for