Free The Sword of Fate by Dennis Wheatley Page B

at a loss to know how best to fill in my six remaining days of leave—Madame Diamopholus herself suggested that as they were having a few people in on the Monday evening I should join them.
    It was useless for me to attempt to see Daphnis out riding as Alcis had returned to Cairo several weeks previously, and Daphnis now had to ride with a groom in attendance, whom she said she dared not trust. In consequence I made up my mind to possess my soul in patience until the Monday evening, and on the Sunday morning had decided to have a good late lie in bed. However, a letter which had been brought by hand and was sent up with my breakfast-tray got me up earlier than I had intended.
    It was a short note from Essex Pasha saying that he would like to see me between eleven and twelve at the Alexandria Police Offices, which he made his headquarters during the hot months of the year.
    As soon as I arrived there I was shown up to a big apartment in which he was seated alone behind a desk. He was a very fine-looking man of between fifty and sixty, tall, broad-shouldered,with grey hair and blue eyes. As an official of the Egyptian Government he wore a red fez, which was tilted at a rakish angle on the back of his head, and, with the scarlet gorgets of a General on the lapels of his tunic, made a bright contrast to his khaki uniform. With a friendly smile he waved me to a chair and told me to help myself to a cigarette. Without further preamble he went straight to the point.
    “How well do you know the little Diamopholus girl?”
    I was considerably taken aback, and I paused to light the cigarette before I answered with a laugh:
    “I think Your Excellency ought to give me notice of that question.”
    He shook his head and the little wrinkles round his blue eyes crinkled up.
    “Come, come, my boy! You were much too occupied with her yesterday even to notice me; but I caught sight of you at least half a dozen times acting as her cavalier, so you must have spent the whole afternoon with her. You may rest assured that I shouldn’t dream of prying into your affairs unless I had a good reason.”
    “All right,” I said. “In the middle of April I had a motor-bike smash and was carried into her house, where she bandaged me up. After that I saw her two or three times, mainly out riding in the early morning. Since that leave ended I haven’t seen or heard from her again until yesterday. But why do you ask?”
    “Because we’re rather interested in her.”
    I frowned, for the first time feeling a little uneasiness. “Surely, sir, you’re not suggesting that a girl like Daphnis is mixed up with the dope racket?”
    “I’ve known stranger things,” his strong teeth flashed in a smile, “but it’s not that, and I’m concerned with even more important matters than the suppression of the dope traffic in these days. Ever since the war I’ve been largely responsible to the Egyptian Government for internal security in this country. However, I don’t want to take up more of your time than necessary, and it’s really a matter for Major Cozelli; he’s the head of our Italian Intelligence Section. I’m sure you’ll give him any information you can.”
    As he finished speaking, Essex Pasha struck a bell on his desk, and having cheerfully wished me an enjoyable leave told the negro police orderly to take me along to Major Cozelli.
    In a smaller office on an upper floor the Major rose from hisdesk to greet me. He was a hard-eyed, cadaverous, dark-skinned man who also wore the red fez of an Egyptian official. His name suggested that he was at least half-Italian, which probably accounted for his present job, but he spoke faultless English and said smoothly as I sat down:
    “His Excellency tells me that you know Miss Diamopholus, Mr. Day. As you’re probably aware, her family has great influence here in Alex, and it’s our job to pick up all we can about influential people. These wealthy Greeks keep themselves very much to themselves, though,