‘Ready?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Sir,’ I said, my heart hammering. By now, the soldiers who surrounded us had more than returned to my consciousness: they had usurped it. Playing dress-up behind the shed was all too well, but now we would step out into the open again, and our disguise would have to hold.
‘Yes, Sahib.’
‘Good. Remember, when you step out, look relaxed and comfortable.’
‘You mean like you always do?’ I asked, sweetly.
‘Mr Linton?’
‘Yes, Sir?’
‘Be quiet!’
‘Yes, Sir! Of course, Sir!’
‘On the count of three. One… two… three!’
He stepped out into the courtyard, and started marching in the most perfect military step I had ever seen. In his brilliant red uniform he looked the picture of a handsome young soldier. I stared after him, an odd tugging sensation in my gut.
‘Come on!’ Karim growled from beside me. ‘Or do you wish to stand around here gaping for the rest of the night?’
With a hurried shake of the head I started forward.
The moment I stepped out from behind the shed, I could feel them on me: the gazes of the hidden gunmen who were stationed all over the roof. I could feel their eyes boring into me, probing me, as Lord Dalgliesh’s eyes had probed me, searching for truth and purpose.
My eyes fixed themselves on Mr Ambrose’s back, a few yards in front of me. Please, I thought, desperately. Please don't let them guess the truth about him.
Would you even see blood on that red coat? Or would there just be a bang, and he would crumple silently to the ground? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I didn’t wish to find out.
Get a grip, I snapped at myself. The gunmen aren’t watching you. They are watching the outside for intruders, not the inside for their own soldiers, and that’s what you are now. It is just your imagination running wild!
If only I had been better at convincing myself.
Beyond Mr Ambrose, the gigantic double-winged front door loomed. I was just wondering once again how the dickens we were going to get it open, when suddenly, one of the wings swung open with a creak. Two soldiers stepped out. My heart almost stopped. What would we do? What would we say?
Mr Ambrose gave the soldiers a curt nod. He didn’t say anything. They gave him a curt nod back. They didn’t say anything.
And then we were past them and inside the hallway.
‘H-how did that just happen?’ I asked, my voice unsteady.
‘What?’ Mr Ambrose enquired. He wasn’t paying attention to me. His eyes were sweeping over the different doors that lead from the hallway in various directions.
‘Our getting past them!’
‘I nodded, they nodded, we walked past. It’s not that complicated.’
‘But… why didn’t they stop us? Question us?’
‘That’s why we are wearing a disguise, Mr Linton. So people won’t know who we are. Come on. This is the right door.’
And he set off towards a door in the left corner of the room. It opened without resistance, and the three of us entered a narrow corridor, dimly lit by the occasional gas lamp on the wall. Mr Ambrose neither slackened his pace nor altered his brisk gait. I marvelled at how authentic he looked. He could have been a general, or a lord leading his army into battle.
Which maybe he was, in a way.
Shaking my head, I quickened my pace to keep up with him. We passed a door on the left, and Mr Ambrose didn’t stop. Again we passed a door, and again he didn’t give it a glance. We passed many doors on our march down the narrow corridor, some on the right, some on the left. From behind some came raucous laughter, from behind others came the sounds of swords being sharpened, from behind yet more we heard only silence. Mr Ambrose did not deviate from his straight course once until we reached a bend in the corridor. There, he stopped dead and, without turning, said: ‘Around the corner, there is a straight corridor. It should lead directly to the door of Dalgliesh’s office. In case we encounter someone, we cannot speak or discuss our route anymore. The closer we get to Dalgliesh’s office, the more soldiers we will meet. Karim? Another look at the map, to make sure.’
The Mohammedan fished the map out of his bag, did a quick check and put it back. ‘Yes, Sahib. You have it correct.’
‘I see. Remember. Straight ahead and through the door. Don’t speak. Look as though you know what you are doing.’
He started moving again, and we followed. With a few steps we were around the corner - and before us, there was a little room with the corridor splitting off into two different directions.
Lion’s Den
‘This,’ Mr Ambrose said, gazing coldly at the two doors, ‘is inconvenient.’
Karim swore violently.
‘What is this?’ I demanded, pointing to the bifurcation. ‘I thought you said there is only one corridor, and it leads straight on.’
‘I also mentioned that the plans were not up-to-date, if you remember, Mr Linton.’
‘Spiffing! Absolutely top-hole!’ Angrily, I gave the wall a kick. Naturally, it kicked back just as hard, as walls usually do. ‘So we’re just going to pack our bags and go home?’
‘Certainly not,’ said Mr Ambrose, who looked as if the whole thing was nothing more than an intellectual problem to be discussed over tea and biscuits. ‘There are two corridors. We are three people. Simple arithmetic tells us the solution. We will divide our forces, and whoever discovers Dalgliesh’s office or his personal safe will have to acquire the file and make it out of here.’
Karim, who had just been about to follow my example and kick the wall with all his force, stopped. I was rather glad. He might have brought down the house on top of us.
‘Of course!’ He exclaimed. ‘I’m at your service, Sahib. Where shall we go? Where shall we send…’ His eyes rested for a moment on me, while he searched for the proper pronoun. ‘…this individual?’
I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but Mr Ambrose was quicker.
‘No, Karim. We will not go together. You will go one way. Mr Linton and I shall explore the other corridor.’
Something like hurt showed under the black curls of Karim’s beard. I might have been sorry for him if I hadn’t been so busy suppressing a gigantic grin.
‘You’d rather be accompanied by this creature than by me, Sahib?’ the Mohammedan demanded.
Mr Ambrose made a terse movement with his head towards the second corridor. ‘I’d rather send somebody I can rely on where I cannot go myself, Karim.’
Nice. The grin stopped trying to force its way onto my face. So he couldn’t rely on me, could he?
Mollified by Mr Ambrose’s words, and probably also by the sour look on my face, Karim bowed.
‘I shall do as you command, Sahib.’
‘If you find the file, leave. If you find nothing, leave. Don’t wait for us. We will meet back at Empire House.’
Karim didn’t look too happy about that order. But he bowed again.
‘As you wish, Sahib.’
Without another word, he turned and disappeared down the corridor to the left.
‘Come on.’ Mr Ambrose motioned down the other corridor and started forward. ‘We have wasted enough time.’
I almost ran after him. Not that I would ever have admitted it, but leaving Karim behind sent a tingle of fear up my spine. No matter how many soldiers Lord Dalgliesh had at his command, I couldn’t see any of them getting past the huge Mohammedan. Now that he was gone, all Mr Ambrose had for protection was his cane, which just now didn’t seem as impressive to me as on the first occasion he had drawn its hidden blade.
Suddenly, Mr Ambrose stopped and held up his hand. That was a sign even I, with my very limited experience in burglary, had no problems understanding. I halted, and waited with baited breath.
When, after a few moments, nothing had happened, I whispered: ‘What is it?’
‘Voices,’ he said in a low, but otherwise normal, tone of voice. ‘Be quiet. And if you have to speak, don't whisper. We are soldiers, remember? We are supposed to be here, and if we whisper, it will sound suspicious.’