Part 12 (1/2)
”You're certain about my disguise?”
”Perfectly certain. You will not, of course, enter into long conversations with anyone who knows you well, as your voice would betray you. Otherwise you may rest secure.”
”Yes, that's the weak point,” I replied. ”I've always heard that, however perfectly a man may be disguised, you cannot disguise his voice.”
He rolled a cigarette with the quick s.n.a.t.c.hing movement of his fingers that always struck me as a miracle of dexterity.
”It is not true,” he remarked. ”I have invented five methods, three mechanical and two medical or chemical, whichever you like to call them. When we have leisure I will show you. But there is no need for anything of the sort in your case. It will give you confidence, Sir John, to test the completeness of your new appearance. If you will go to the Royal Hotel and lunch there--keeping awake to hear the general talk--I will join you about three.”
”Very well,” I replied, though with some reluctance, ”and the car?”
”Mr. Thumbwood has been with you at the 'Royal,' and he is not disguised. It would be better that he should not approach the hotel. We will put you down a short distance away. I will remain in the car and direct Thumbwood where to go.”
Nothing escaped this little man! He seemed to foresee and provide for everything, and when I alighted five minutes afterwards, some two hundred yards from the hotel, I felt fairly secure in my new character as Mr. Johns, the don of Christ Church, Oxford.
Immediately I was in the street I became aware--you know how one does?--that the j.a.panese was right, and Plymouth was in a ferment.
London is too vast for anything but a national calamity to make any alteration in the outward appearance of things, and even then it takes a sharp eye and a man well versed in the psychology of crowds to detect anything unusual. Not so a big provincial town.
As I walked along the cla.s.sic facade of the theatre and turned the corner to the main entrance of the hotel, I saw one thought on every face and heard one single topic of discussion. The streets, always so gay and cheerful with military and naval uniforms, seemed more crowded than their wont, and there was a definite electricity in the air. I know that I felt stimulated, encouraged to persist, and as I ascended the ma.s.sive steps of the hotel, my clean-shaven lips smiled to think with what interest I should be regarded if anyone had but an inkling of whom I was and upon what mission.
And then I had a shock.
Standing in the big lounge-hall, and talking to a man in a black morning-coat and a silk hat, was my second in command--Muir Lockhart, a.s.sistant Commissioner of Air Police! He was in uniform, a special uniform that we both wore upon ceremonial occasions only.
”Yes,” he was saying, ”I'm down here representing the Chief.”
I dared not stay to listen, but I walked towards them as slowly as I could. Muir Lockhart has a somewhat high, penetrating voice.
”When did you come down?” asked the other man.
”Arrived half an hour ago, flew down from Whitehall this morning,” said Muir Lockhart.
”Then Sir John Custance isn't coming?”
My a.s.sistant shook his head. ”Utterly impossible,” he said. ”Sir John cannot leave town just now. He must be at the head of things; can't possibly be spared. I saw him this morning before I left; he had been working all night and was nearly dead. 'Explain my position to them,' he said; 'nothing but strict duty would keep me away from Plymouth to-day.'
So, you see how it is, Mr. Mayor?”
”Oh, quite, quite! Well, I must be getting round to the Guildhall. You will march up your men at half-past one? Thank you.”
The man in the silk hat, who I realized must be the Mayor of Plymouth, hurried away. I was left face to face with Muir Lockhart.
He stared at me, not offensively, but in such a way that he could not have missed a detail of my appearance; he always was an observant beggar. Then he pa.s.sed by without a sign of recognition. Good! I reflected, if my own colleague, who saw me for several hours each day, did not know me, no one else would. It seemed a good omen, and I blessed Danjuro in my heart.
And what a splendid liar Muir Lockhart was! He knew that I had gone away on my own, and he hadn't the least idea in the world where I was! It was a temptation to discover myself, but I refrained.
I was very puzzled. What on earth was he doing here in uniform, and talking to the Mayor about? I hadn't a suspicion of the truth even then, and I had a curious sense of being out of things, forgotten and on the sc.r.a.p-heap! The long drive had made me hungry and I thought about lunch.
Before going into the coffee-room I wished to remove the stains of travel, so I went down the corridor to the lavatory.
When I entered a man in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves was bending over one of the basins and sluicing himself with many splashes. As I was was.h.i.+ng my own swarthy hands he emerged from a towel and gave me a casual glance.