‘You may not believe me,’ he said, ‘but I don’t know quite what they’re driving at even now. But there’s something pretty serious afoot, I can tell you that.’
It was obvious that he was telling the truth, but Abbershaw was not satisfied.
‘Well, anyway, you know one thing,’ he said. ‘Why are you here? You just admitted yourself it was on business.’
‘Oh, it was,’ agreed Campion, ‘most decidedly. But not my business. Let me explain.’
‘I wish to God you would,’ said Prenderby, who was utterly out of his depth.
‘Well then, chicks, Uncle Albert speaking.’ Campion leant forward, his expression more serious than his words. ‘Perhaps I ought to give you some little idea of my profession. I live, like all intelligent people, by my wits, and although I have often done things that mother wouldn’t like, I have remembered her parting words and have never been vulgar. To cut it short, in fact, I do almost anything within reason – for a reasonable sum, but nothing sordid or vulgar – quite definitely nothing vulgar.’
He glanced at Abbershaw, who nodded, and then went on.
‘In this particular case,’ he said, ‘I was approached in London last week by a man who offered me a very decent sum to get myself included as unobtrusively as possible into the house-party this week-end and then to seize the first opportunity I could get to speaking to my host, the Colonel, alone. I was to make sure that we were alone. Then I was to go up to him, murmur a password in his ear, and receive from him a package which I was to bring to London immediately – unopened. I was warned, of course,’ he continued, looking up at Abbershaw. ‘They told me I was up against men who would have no compunction in killing me to prevent me getting away with the package, but I had no idea who the birds were going to be or I shouldn’t have come for any money. In fact when I saw them at dinner on the first night I nearly cut the whole job right out and bunked back to town.’
‘Why? Who are they?’ said Abbershaw.
Mr Campion looked surprised.