The Baghdad Railway Club(83)

Shepherd now stood ten feet away from me. I had my gun pointed at him. I could not help noticing that the train behind him seemed to have tilted to about thirty degrees. It held on to the track very well, considering.

I said, ‘Throw down your gun, sir.’ He took the Colt from its holster – pitched it away. ‘What are you thinking of, Jim?’ he said, as if really curious.

‘You know, sir,’ I said.

He said, ‘Shall I show you what’s in the bag?’

Whether I blacked out or not I can’t say, but a minute later he had jewellery in his hands: a tangle of gold, emeralds, rubies. I heard a footfall.

‘Here comes a murderer, Jim,’ said Shepherd.

I whisked around, Findlay was removing his revolver. He was now aiming it at me‚ but I let fly with a bullet and his piece went spinning out of his hand – not quite what I’d intended (I did not quite know what I had intended), but it had come out all right. Beyond Findlay, I saw a particular illumination: a gap in the whirling, and it held numerous Arabs on horses. They then disappeared. I motioned Findlay towards Shepherd. The major and the lieutenant colonel were now opposite to me.

‘I will face you down!’ I called over the storm to both of them. I was judge and jury, albeit with malaria.

Shepherd said, ‘May I put these down?’, meaning the jewels. I eyed him. ‘Of course, I will be delivering them to the Corps HQ,’ he said.

‘Nonsense,’ said Findlay.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you everything, Jim,’ Shepherd said, setting down the jewels. ‘I’ve been let in on an extraordinary adventure, and I wanted to follow it through in my own way.’

‘The Turkish officer,’ I said. ‘The bimbashi. He did offer you treasure.’

‘Not at the station,’ said Shepherd. ‘He said there would be gems to be found. They would be attached to the underside of the rearmost wagons of the abandoned trains in this territory.’

The wind rose and he had to shout louder, but there was now a lesser quantity of sand in the skies. Or rather the colour of the storm had changed: it was becoming golden.

‘A system of exchange would be set up,’ said Shepherd. ‘Jewels for military information. At the last train, a week ago, I found some rubies. In return, I left a document about the disposition of our forces and future plans. Naturally, it was one long lie from beginning to end. I saw the chance to make a great score. Well, to throw the Turks off. I about doubled the size of our force in the city for one thing . . . It was all lies, as I say.’

‘And so is this,’ said Findlay. ‘You will be on a charge yourself, by the way, Stringer, if you don’t put that damned gun down.’

It seemed to me that, in extremis and removed from the presence of Miss Bailey, Findlay was reverting to type: an upper-class man, irritated at the situation in which he found himself.

‘I gave the first haul into the safe keeping of Brigadier General Barnes,’ said Shepherd.

‘Hogwash,’ said Findlay.

‘Of course,’ said Shepherd, ‘they weren’t real. They were paste, and I’m pretty sure these are too.’ He indicated the jewels at his feet.

I turned towards Findlay, and my gun wavered that way too.

I said, ‘You took the photograph.’

‘There was a connection,’ he began, ‘I have no idea of the details of it – an association – between Mrs Bailey and Captain Boyd. It was Mrs Bailey’s business alone. I felt that she was entitled to her privacy. I need hardly mention that Mrs Bailey did not kill Captain Boyd.’

‘No,’ said Shepherd with a half smile, ‘she did not. But you did.’

The sun was rising fast on us, and I could hear a new sound: a distant singing.

‘Oh, do come off it,’ said Findlay.

‘Why are you here?’ I asked Findlay.

‘To keep cases on him.’

‘Why?’ I said again.

‘Look,’ he said. ‘He killed Boyd. Boyd had seen him take a Turkish bribe. He’s just taken another one.’

Shepherd said, ‘You adore Mrs Harriet Bailey. You are in love with her. Unfortunately for you so was Boyd, and probably she with him. He had met her in Basrah, as you knew quite well. When he came up to Baghdad, he telegraphed to her repeatedly – Jarvis told me. He had a run-in with Ferry of the telegraph office about sending wires of a personal nature. Boyd wouldn’t leave her alone. You arranged to meet him at the station. I don’t know what happened, but it ended by you killing him. You knew he had this idea about me – that he considered me a traitor. He misinterpreted what he saw at the station on the night the town fell. I suppose I can’t blame him for that. As a result, you thought I’d be blamed for his murder.’