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As he spoke, I saw the map of the world from my father’s old atlas appear in front of my inner eye, and I could see red lines flowing across it, marking the most important trade routes of the British Empire. I had never thought about why exactly these trade routes were shown on every map, but now, listening to Mr Ambrose’s almost passionate words, I realized: they were the Empire. Without them, it would not exist.
And I also realized something else: All of the trade routes to the East ran around the Cape of Good Hope, circumventing the entire continent of Africa before they reached their destination. They did not go through the Mediterranean and from there to the Red Sea, because on this far shorter journey, there was a piece of land in the way.
Of course! Lilly, you blockhead, how could you not have seen this sooner!
‘Suez,’ I whispered. ‘You are planning to build a canal at Suez!’
Again, he didn’t say anything for a moment.
Then: ‘It seems that not just your intelligence is slightly above that of an average MP. Your knowledge of geography, too. Adequate thinking, Mr Linton.’
Would it kill him to say ‘good’ instead of ‘adequate’ for once? Yes, it probably would. He’d choke on it.
‘How much trade goes around the Cape of Good Hope every year?’ I enquired cautiously.
He made a low, derisive noise.
‘All the trade with China, India, Indochina, Australia, New Zealand… practically half the world’s trade. Certainly the most profitable half. And if everything had gone according to plan, all this was to be channelled through one thin lane of water.’ Underneath the coolness, his voice almost became passionate as he spoke. ‘All this was going to flow through one centre of the world. All this I was to hold in the palm of my hand. Can you imagine, Mr Linton? Can you?’
I shook my head. I had to work hard to resist the urge to shiver.
‘N-no. I cannot.’
‘That is because you have never seen a fleet of clippers or East Indiamen set sail for the Far East, or the Americas. If you had, if you had witnessed the majesty of the great white sails coming down, catching the wind, and carrying the ships off to every corner of the world, you would. Ships are my arrows, the sea my bow, the world my target.’
There definitely was passion in his voice now. It was a cold passion, a passion for things, not for people, but it was passion.
‘Do you see the power of trade, Mr Linton? The power of the ship? It makes our world what it is today. And I was going to possess the knot where all these strands of power came together. The knot that connected East to West, and made me master of all.’
His last words seemed to echo with significance in our little, dark space.
‘East and West…’ I murmured. ‘That’s it. That’s why Dalgliesh took the file from you!’
‘Yes.’ There was resignation in Mr Ambrose’s voice, and if I was not very mistaken, grudging admiration. ‘If I had been able to go through with my plans for that canal, I would have had him by the throat. His company may have the monopoly for trade in India, it might even rule India as if it were its own empire, it might even have its own army, but its ships still need to pass from East to West. If they cannot do this at competitive speed and cost, the company, like any other business, would collapse within a few years. If I had built that canal, all ships passing through it would have been able deliver goods twice as fast and at half the price of any competitor. I could have decided who would get past and who wouldn’t. I could have demanded any price I wanted.’
‘And you would have made Dalgliesh pay a lot?’
‘No.’ The word was a block of frozen stone. ‘I would have cut off my right hand before one of the cursed ships of that man ever passed into my canal!’
He still held my wrists firmly in his grasp as he spoke. Thus it was that I could feel his little finger twitch.
‘What did you say?’ I demanded.
‘You heard me.’
‘Yes, but… You would have denied him entry? Even though you could have asked any price you wanted?’
‘Yes.’
‘Even though denying him entry would mean driving him into ruin?’
‘Yes.’
‘Surely that is a little harsh.’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’
His little twitched again.
‘This is business, Mr Linton. Business is about ruining your competitors, burying them so deeply that they never get up again. And I would have buried him. Oh yes, I would.’
By now, his finger was tapping a staccato on my wrist. Somehow, I didn’t think Lord Dalgliesh was only simple business competition to Mr Ambrose. Yet I didn’t probe further into the matter. Instead, I gently slipped my hand out of his grip and took his fingers in mine. The twitching of his little finger ceased.
He gave a sigh.
‘What is the use?’ he muttered darkly. ‘What sense is there in “would”s and “might have”s? I have played the game, and lost. There will be no centre of the world, no canal at Suez, no new routes for world trade under my direction. There is no chance of getting the file back now. We can only hope, if we are lucky, to escape from this with our lives.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Now listen. There is a remote chance that not too many men will be present when they open the crate. I will engage them, and it will be your job to-’
‘No.’
I think my abrupt interruption caught him off guard. He said nothing for a moment, then demanded: ‘No? What do you mean, no?’
‘I mean no, there still is a chance to get the file back. Think, Sir. Nobody knows we are here. If we could somehow manage to get out of this crate unseen…’
‘Which is extremely unlikely.’
‘If we could manage it, we could get to the file…’
‘How, without being discovered?’
‘We still have our disguises. They got us into one of Dalgliesh’s buildings - why not another?’
‘There still remains the little matter of getting out of there alive.’
I smirked in the dark. ‘Since when have I become the one suggesting dangerous schemes and you the pessimist to reject them? Are you frightened of a little adventure?’
‘Mr Linton?’
‘Yes?’
‘If I had enough room to move my arm properly, I would take you by the scruff of the neck and…’