AgathaChristie-TheManInTheBrownSuit

by The Man In The Brown Suit (lit)

  places which I did not know. It was quite half

  an hour before they had finished their

  checking and counting.

  "Good," said Chichester, and there was a

  sound as thought he pushed back his chair. "I

  will take these with me for the 'Colonel' to

  see."

  "When do you leave?"

  "Ten o'clock to-morrow morning will do."

  "Do you want to see the girl before you

  go?"

  "No. There are strict orders that no one is

  to see her until the 'Colonel* comes. Is she all

  right?"

  "I looked in on her when I came in for

  dinner. She was asleep, I think. What about

  food?"

  "A little starvation will do no harm. The 'Colonel* will be here some time tomorrow.

  She will answer questions better if she is

  hungry. No one had better go near her till

  then. Is she securely tied up!"

  The Dutchman laughed.

  "What do you think?"

  They both laughed. So did I, under my

  breath. Then, as the sounds seemed to betoken

  that they were about to come out of the

  room, I beat a hasty retreat, I was just in

  206

  time. As I reached the head of the stairs. I

  heard the door of the room open, and at the

  same time the Kafir stirred and moved. My

  retreat by the way of the hall door was not to

  be thought of. I retired prudently to the attic,

  gathered my bonds round me and lay down

  again on the floor, in case they should take it

  into their heads to come and look at me.

  They did not do so, however. After about

  an hour, I crept down the stairs, but the Kafir

  by the door was awake and humming softly to

  himself. I was anxious to get out of the house,

  but I did not quite see how to manage it.

  In the end, I was forced to retreat to the

  attic again. The Kafir was clearly on guard

  for the night. I remained there patiently all

  through the sounds of early morning

  preparation. The men breakfasted in the hall,

  I could hear their voices distinctly floating up

  the stairs. I was getting thoroughly unnerved.

  How on earth was I to get out of the house?

  I counselled myself to be patient. A rash

  move might spoil everything. After breakfast

  came the sounds of Chichester departing.

  To my intense relief, the Dutchman

  accompanied him.

  I waited breathlessly. Breakfast was being

  cleared away, the work of the house was being

  207

  done. At last, the various activities seemed to

  die down. I slipped out from my lair once

  more. Very carefully I crept down the stairs.

  The hall was empty. Like a flash I was across

  it, had unlatched the door, and was outside in

  the sunshine. I ran down the drive like one

  possessed.

  Once outside, I resumed a normal walk.

  People stared at me curiously, and I do not

  wonder. My face and clothes must have been

  covered in dust from rolling about in the

  attic. At last I came to a garage. I went in.

  "I have met with an accident," I explained.

  "I want a car to take me to Cape Town at

  once. I must catch the boat to Durban."

  I had not long to wait. Ten minutes later I

  was speeding along in the direction of Cape

  Town. I must know if Chichester was on the

  boat. Whether to sail on her myself or not, I

  could not determine, but in the end I decided

  to do so. Chichester would not know that I

  had seen him in the Villa at Muizenberg. He

  would doubtless lay further traps for me, but

  I was forewarned. And he was the man I was

  after, the man who was seeking the diamonds

  on behalf of the mysterious "Colonel."

  Alas, for my plans! As I arrived at the

  208

  docks, the Kilmorden Castle was steaming out

  to sea. And I had no means of knowing

  whether Chichester had sailed on her or not!

  n

  &!-

  V

  03209

  20

  I DROVE to the hotel. There was no one in

  the lounge that I knew. I ran upstairs and

  tapped on Suzanne's door. Her voice bade

  me "come in." When she saw who it was she

  literally fell on my neck.

  "Anne, dear, where have you been? I've

  been worried to death about you. What have

  you been doing?"

  "Having adventures," I replied. "Episode

  III of'The Perils of Pamela'."

  I told her the whole story. She gave vent to

  a deep sigh when I finished.

  "Why do these things always happen to

  you?" she demanded plaintively. "Why does

  no one gag me and bind me hand and foot?"

  "You wouldn't like it if they did," I

  assured her. "To tell you the truth, I'm not

  nearly so keen on having adventures myself as

  I was. A little of that sort of thing goes a long

  way."

  Suzanne seemed unconvinced. An hour or

  two of gagging and binding would have

  changed her view quickly enough. Suzanne

  210

  likes thrills, but she hates being

  uncomfortable.

  "And what are we all doing now?" she

  asked.

  "I don't quite know," I said thoughtfully.

  "You still go to Rhodesia, of course, to keep

  an eye ofPagett——"

  "And you?"

  That was just my difficulty. Had

  Chichester gone on the Kilmorden, or had he

  not? Did he mean to carry out his original

  plan of going to Durban? The hour of his

  leaving Muizenberg seemed to point to an

  affirmative answer to both questions. In that

  case, I might go to Durban by train. I fancied

  that I should get there before the boat. On the

  other hand, if the news of my escape were

  wired to Chichester, and also the information

  that I had left Cape Town for Durban,

  nothing was simpler for him than to leave the

  boat at either Port Elizabeth or East London

  and so give me the slip completely.

  It was rather a knotty problem.

  "We'll inquire about trains to Durban

  anyway," I said.

  "And it's not too late for morning tea,"

  said Suzanne. "We'll have it in the lounge."

  The Durban train left at 8.15 that evening,

  211

  so they told me at the office. For the moment

  I postponed a decision, and joined Suzanne

  for somewhat belated "eleven o'clock tea."

  "Do you feel that you would really

  recognize Chichester again--in any other

  disguise, I mean?" asked Suzanne.

  I shook my head ruefully.

  "I certainly didn't recognize him as the

  stewardess, and never should have but for

  your drawing."

  "The man's a professional actor, I'm sure

  of it," said Suzanne thoughtfully. "His makeup

  is perfectly marvellous. He might come

  off the boat as a navvy or something, and

  you'd never spot him."

&n
bsp; "You're very cheering," I said.

  At that minute Colonel Race stepped in

  through the window and came and joined us.

  "What is Sir Eustace doing?" asked

  Suzanne. "I haven't seen him about today."

  Rather an odd expression passed over the

  Colonel's face.

  "He's got a little trouble of his own to

  attend to which is keeping him busy."

  "Tell us about it."

  "I mustn't tell tales out of school."

  "Tell us something--even if you want to

  invent it for our special benefit."

  212

  "Well, what would you say to the famous

  *Man in the Brown Suit' having made the

  voyage with us?"

  "What?"

  I felt the colour die out of my face and then

  surge back again. Fortunately Colonel Race

  was not looking at me.

  "It's a fact, I believe. Every port watched

  for him and he bamboozled Pedler into

  bringing him out as his secretary!"

  "Not Mr. Pagett?"

  "Oh, not Pagett—the other fellow.

  Rayburn, he called himself."

  "Have they arrested him?" asked Suzanne.

  Under the table she gave my hand a

  reassuring squeeze. I waited breathlessly for

  an answer.

  "He seems to have disappeared into thin

  air."

  "How does Sir Eustace take it?"

  "Regards it as a personal insult offered him

  by Fate."

  An opportunity of hearing Sir Eustace's

  views on the matter presented itself later in

  the day. We were awakened from a refreshing

  afternoon nap by a page-boy with a note. In

  touching terms it requested the pleasure of

  °ur company at tea in his sitting-room.

  i 213

  The poor man was indeed in a pitiable

  state. He poured out his troubles to us,

  encouraged by Suzanne's sympathetic

  murmurs. (She does that sort of thing very

  well.)

  "First a perfectly strange woman has the

  impertinence to get herself murdered in my

  house—on purpose to annoy me. I do believe.

  Why my house? Why, of all the houses in

  Great Britain, choose the Mill House? What

  harm had I ever done the woman that she

  must needs get herself murdered there?"

  Suzanne made one of her sympathetic

  noises again and Sir Eustace proceeded, in a

  still more aggrieved tone:

  "And, if that's not enough, the fellow who

  murdered her has the impudence, the colossal

  impudence, to attach himself to me as my

  secretary. My secretary, if you please! I'm

  tired of secretaries, I won't have any more

  secretaries. Either they're concealed

  murderers or else they're drunken brawlers.

  Have you seen Pagett's black eye? But of

  course you have. How can I go about with a

  secretary like that? And his face is such a

  nasty shade of yellow too—just the colour

  that doesn't go with a black eye. I've done

  with secretaries—unless I have a girl. A nice

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  girl, with liquid eyes, who'll hold my hand

  when I'm feeling cross. What about you, Miss Anne? Will you take on the job?"

  "How often shall I have to hold your

  hand?" I asked, laughing.

  "All day long," replied Sir Eustace

  gallantly.

  "I shan't get much typing done at that

  rate," I reminded him.

  "That doesn't matter. All this work is

  Pagett's idea. He works me to death. I'm

  looking forward to leaving him behind in

  Cape Town."

  "He is staying behind?"

  "Yes, he'll enjoy himself thoroughly

  sleuthing about after Rayburn. That's the

  sort of thing that suits Pagett down to the

  ground. He adores intrigue. But I'm quite

  serious in my offer. Will you come? Mrs.

  Blair here is a competent chaperone, and you

  can have a half-holiday every now and again

  to dig for bones."

  "Thank you very much. Sir Eustace," I

  said cautiously, "but I think I'm leaving for

  Durban tonight."

  "Now don't be an obstinate girl.

  Remember, there are lots of lions in

  Rhodesia. You'll like lions. All girls do."

  215

  "Will they be practising low jumps?" I

  asked, laughing. "No, thank you very much,

  but I must go to Durban."

  Sir Eustace looked at me, sighed deeply,

  then opened the door of the adjoining room,

  and called to Pagett.

  "If you've quite finished your afternoon

  sleep, my dear fellow, perhaps you'd do a

  little work for a change."

  Guy Pagett appeared in the doorway. He

  bowed to us both, starting slightly at the sight

  of me, and replied in a melancholy voice:

  "I have been typing that memorandum all

  this afternoon. Sir Eustace."

  "Well, stop typing it then. Go down to the

  Trade Commissioner's Office, or the Board

  of Agriculture, or the Chamber of Mines, or

  one of these places, and ask them to lend me

  some kind of a woman to take to Rhodesia.

  She must have liquid eyes and not object to

  my holding her hand."

  "Yes, Sir Eustace. I will ask for a

  competent shorthand-typist."

  "Pagett's a malicious fellow," said Sir

  Eustace, after the secretary had departed.

  "I'd be prepared to bet that he'll pick out

  some slab-faced creature on purpose to annoy

  216

  me. She must have nice feet too—I forgot to

  mention that."

  I clutched Suzanne excitedly by the hand

  and almost dragged her along to her room.

  "Now, Suzanne," I said, "we've got to

  make plans—and make them quickly. Pagett

  is staying behind here—you heard that?"

  "Yes. I suppose that means that I shan't be

  allowed to go to Rhodesia—which is very

  annoying, because I want to go to Rhodesia.

  How tiresome."

  "Cheer up," I said. "You're going all right.

  I don't see how you could back out at the last

  moment without its appearing frightfully

  suspicious. And, besides, Pagett might

  suddenly be summoned by Sir Eustace, and it

  would be far harder for you to attach yourself

  to him for the journey up."

  "It would hardly be respectable," said

  Suzanne, dimpling. "I should have to

  develop a fatal passion for him as an excuse."

  "On the other hand, if you were there

  when he arrived, it would all be perfectly

  simple and natural. Besides, I don't think we

  ought to lose sight of the other two entirely."

  "Oh, Anne, you surely can't suspect

  Colonel Race or Sir Eustace?"

  "I suspect everybody," I said darkly, "and

  I 217

  if you've read any detective stories, Suzanne,

  you must know that it's always the most

  unlikely person who's the villain. Lots of

  criminals have been cheerful fat men like Sir

  Eustace."

  "Colonel Race isn't particularly fa
t—or

  particularly cheerful either."

  "Sometimes they're lean and saturnine," I

  retorted. "I don't say I seriously suspect

  either of them, but, after all, the woman was

  murdered in Sir Eustace's house——"

  "Yes, yes, we needn't go over all that again.

  I'll watch him for you, Anne, and if he gets

  any fatter and any more cheerful, I'll send

  you a telegram at once. 'Sir E. swelling

  highly suspicious. Come at once'."

  "Really, Suzanne," I cried, "you seem to

  think all this is a game!"

  "I know I do," said Suzanne, unabashed.

  "It seems like that. It's your fault, Anne.

  I've got imbued with your 'Let's have an

  adventure' spirit. It doesn't seem a bit real.

  Dear me, if Clarence knew that I was running

  about Africa tracking dangerous criminals,

  he'd have a fit."

  "Why don't you cable him about it?" I

  asked sarcastically.

  Suzanne's sense of humour always fails her

  218

  when it comes to sending cables. She

  considered my suggestion in perfectly good

  faith.

  "I might. It would have to be a very long

  one." Her eyes brightened at the thought.

  "But I think it's better not. Husbands always

  want to interfere with perfectly harmless

  amusements."

  "Well," I said, summing up the situation,

  "you will keep an eye on Sir Eustace and

  Colonel Race——"

  "I know why I've got to watch Sir

  Eustace," interrupted Suzanne, "because of

  his figure and his humorous conversation.

  But I think it's carrying it rather far to

  suspect Colonel Race; I do indeed. Why, he's

  something to do with the Secret Service. Do

  you know, Anne, I believe the best thing we

  could do would be to confide in him and tell

  him the whole story."

  I objected vigorously to this unsporting

  proposal. I recognized in it the disastrous

  effects of matrimony. How often have I not

  heard a perfectly intelligent female say, in the

  tone of one clinching an argument, "Edgar

  says—-" And all the time you are perfectly

  aware that Edgar is a perfect fool. Suzanne,

  iMiTBsis 219

  by reason of her married state, was yearning

  to lean upon some man or other.

  However, she promised faithfully that she

  would not breathe a word to Colonel Race,

  and we went on with our plan-making.

  "It's quite clear that I must stay here and

  watch Pagett, and this is the best way to do it.