Part 9 (2/2)

'Confound this wound in my leg . . .' began Ginger.

'How long is it going to take to get right?' asked Bertie.

'I think I could get about,' returned Ginger. 'I'm a bit weak, that's al . It was madame madame's suggestion that I should rest for a day or two, and until this happened I was prepared to take her advice.'

'I wil make some soup,' said madame madame, and went down to the kitchen.

'You had better go down, too, mademoiselle mademoiselle,'

suggested Bertie. 'We would like to talk things over.'

Jeanette's eyes smiled at Ginger, and she fol owed her mother down the stairs.

'Now that's my idea of a girl,' declared Ginger. 'I'm absolutely crazy about her. She's the most marvel ous thing. . . .'

'Here, I say, just a minute, old boy,' reproved Bertie. 'Keep your hand on the jol y old throttle or you'l be out of control before you know where you are. Things are complicated enough as it is; if you're are. Things are complicated enough as it is; if you're going to start ordering bouquets and writing poetry. . . .'

'Okay-okay,' broke in Ginger. 'She speaks English jol y wel , too. Before the war madame madame used to let apartments to English visitors.' used to let apartments to English visitors.'

Bertie took out his monocle and turned a cold eye on his companion. 'I don't care if she speaks Greek, Arabic, Hindustani and Urdu. Is this a romance or a rescue? What I'm waiting to hear is, how did you come to get in this mess?'

In a few words Ginger told him what had happened. 'I don't know where this waiter Mario comes in,' he concluded, 'but he's in the party.

Biggles must have gone to the Chez Rossi. Mario, of the Chez Rossi, kil s the man who double-crossed the princess. That isn't coincidence. I fol owed him to the Vil a Valdora and got landed with the murder. I was al in when I got here, and pa.s.sed out on the floor. Jeanette and her mother were marvel ous. . . .'

'You've said that before.'

'I shal probably say it again,' declared Ginger.

'They looked after me as if I was their own son.

When I came round I told them as much as I dare- said I was an Englishman looking for a friend who had got stuck down here. I didn't say anything about Henri flying us down for reasons which you heard me explain. Anyway, if I had, one thing would have led to another, and I didn't want to say too much. Natural y, I wanted to let you know what had happened, so I asked Jeanette to go down to the Quai de Plaisance to look for a bloke with a guitar. She found you and brought you along. What have you been doing?'

Ginger's face was a picture while Bertie told his story, which, of course, explained the mystery of his being fol owed by the boatman, Francois. 'There's no doubt that it was Mario who stuck the stiletto into Zabani,' continued Bertie. 'As you say, somehow he is mixed up in this; the way he hid the Pernod card and b.u.mped me on the boko when I tried to have a dekko at it proves that. He's a nasty piece of work.

I'l resume the argument with him when I have time.

Meanwhile, this is a bad business about Henri. Even if we could get him away it looks as though we're stuck on the Riviera for the duration.'

'Looks like it,' agreed Ginger moodily. 'We don't seem to have done much towards settling the mystery of Biggles either. We stil don't know whether he's dead or alive. I wonder what Algy's up to? You say he went to Nice?'

'That was the idea.'

'Then al I can think is there must have been some writing on the wal at Jock's Bar to keep him there, or he would have been back by now.'

While he was speaking Jeanette came back into the room with a tray. She glanced at Ginger. 'Did I hear you speak about writing on a wal , monsieur monsieur?'

she inquired.

'Why, yes, mademoiselle mademoiselle,' replied Bertie, looking surprised. 'Do you know anything about it?'

'Only that I have seen writing on a wal .'

'Where?'

'By the Quai de Plaisance.'

Ginger flashed a glance at Bertie, then looked back at Jeanette. 'When?'

'This morning, when I wait for monsieur monsieur of the guitar.' of the guitar.'

Bertie turned to Ginger. 'Did you say anything to Jeanette about the writing on the wal ?'

'Not a word,' declared Ginger. 'Tel me, Jeanette, what did you see?'

Jeanette shrugged a shoulder. 'I saw writing.'

'But how? I mean-did you know it was there?'

'But no. What happens was this,' explained Jeanette. 'As I walk down the hil this morning at the early hour to seek monsieur monsieur of the guitar-' of the guitar-'

'Cal him Bertie-it's shorter.'

' Oui, monsieur Oui, monsieur. As I go to find Bertie I see a girl with a shawl blue. She does something to the wal . I think, what can a girl do so early with a wal , so as I walk I watch. A man, he comes. He goes near.

Voila! Mademoisel e of the shawl blue runs up the Escalier du Port. Monsieur, he runs to the place where she does something to the wal . He is agitated. He runs up the escalier escalier. He runs back, tout tout de suite de suite*1. He speaks with Monsieur Budette, he of the one eye. Monsieur Budette, he goes home. What is this, I think. Everyone is going somewhere. While I wait for monsieur monsieur Bertie I go to the wal to see what happens that makes everyone run. I see writing. Bertie I go to the wal to see what happens that makes everyone run. I see writing.

C'est tout*2.'

'In blue pencil?'

'But yes. How did you know?'

'And it said, ”Chez Rossi. Pernod.”'

'But no.'

Ginger stared. 'But yes! I saw it myself.'

'Then you do not see what I see,' returned Jeanette definitely. 'First, there is a place where someone has wrote. It is covered with much scribbling. Then there is writing. It says-' Jeanette wrinkled her forehead in an effort to remember. 'Oh, yes. It says: Castil on. Au bon cuisine. Then there is a word I do not know. The day of May. No, May Day.'

Ginger stared. 'Wait a minute,' he said slowly.

'Are you sure of this?'

<script>