Death and the Dutch Uncle by Patricia Moyes

Author:Patricia Moyes [Moyes, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

10

Gordon Trapp was having an uneventful journey. The plane to Paris was by no means full, and Trapp had been one of the first passengers to board it. With an expertise born of long years of short-haul air travel, he had stationed himself in the airport lounge at just the right spot to pass through the checkout door first, without any appearance of pushing; and, once aboard, he had made a beeline for the particular seat which he knew from experience was the most desirable on that make of plane for an economy-class passenger. This was the window side of the first pair of seats. Ahead was the partition giving onto the first-class compartment, and Gordon Trapp knew very well that his long legs would have room to stretch themselves in a way impossible for the serried ranks behind him.

For a while he thought that he was going to enjoy the supreme luxury of having the pair of seats to himself; but, at the last moment, another tall man came and sat down in the place beside him. The journey started with a customary, correct, and very British silence between the two men, but by the time breakfast had been served, Trapp and his companion were on cordial terms. They agreed on the martyrdom to which tall men were subjected on any form of public transportation. “All designed for dwarfs,” said Trapp feelingly. His companion concurred.

This led naturally to a discussion as to the most tolerable means of traveling available to those over six feet in height.

“Cars are no use these days, unless one can afford a Rolls,” remarked Trapp’s companion. “If they’re not Mini by name, they’re mini by nature. And trains are just as bad, don’t you agree?”

“Terrible,” said Trapp. “Mobile sardine cans.”

“With one honorable exception, of course, the T-E-E. Let us give honor where it is due.”

“Ah, yes, the Trans-Europe expresses. Wonderful trains.”

“But then, of course, quite apart from the extra expense, you can’t always by any means get a T-E-E going where you want and when you want it.” The tall man lit a cigarette and then hastily offered his silver case to Gordon Trapp. “So sorry, old man. Do you smoke?”

“Not for the moment, thanks.”

The tall man drew deeply on his cigarette. “Well, at least Paris isn’t too far.” He glanced at his watch. “Another ten minutes, and our agony will be over. Or are you traveling farther on?”

“I am, as a matter of fact.”

“You have my sympathy. Air or rail?”

“Rail.”

“T-E-E, I trust.”

“I fear not. Just an ordinary train.”

“You’re not heading southward, then?”

Trapp looked surprised. “Why do you say that? As a matter of fact, I am. I’m heading for a few days in Antibes and some sun, with any luck.”

“Then, my dear fellow, why aren’t you taking the Mistral?”

“The what?”

“The one-o’clock T-E-E to Nice. You must be out of your mind.”

“But my train leaves at twenty past nine. It’s a slightly dicey connection with this plane.”

“My dear fellow,” said the tall man, “I know that train.

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