AgathaChristie-TheManInTheBrownSuit

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by The Man In The Brown Suit (lit)


  There are tall bushes growing just over the

  edge. He'd balanced the outside stones on

  them, so that you'd think you were still on

  the path when in reality you were stepping

  into nothingness. God help him if I lay my

  hands upon him!"

  He paused a minute and then said, in a

  totally different tone:

  "We've never spoken of these things,

  Anne, have we? But the time's come. I want

  you to hear the whole story—from the

  beginning."

  "If it hurts you to go over the past, don't

  tell me," I said in a low voice.

  "But I want you to know. I never thought I

  should speak of that part of my life to anyone.

  Funny, isn't it, the tricks Fate plays?"

  He was silent for a minute or two. The sun

  has set, and the velvety darkness of the

  African night was enveloping us like a

  mantle.

  "Some of it I know," I said gently.

  "What do you know?"

  289

  <
  Lucas."

  Still he hesitated--not looking at me, but

  staring straight out in front of him. I had no

  clue as to what was passing in his mind, but

  at last he jerked his head forward as though

  acquiescing in some unspoken decision of his

  own, and began his story.

  290

  26

  " ^^ 7^ OU are right. My real name is ^[ Harry Lucas. My father was a reA. tired soldier who came out to farm

  in Rhodesia. He died when I was in my

  second year at Cambridge."

  "Were you fond of him?" I asked suddenly.

  "I-don't know."

  Then he flushed and went on with sudden

  vehemence:

  "Why do I say that? I did love my father.

  We said bitter things to each other the last

  time I saw him, and we had many rows over

  my wildness and my debts, but I cared for the

  old man. I know how much now--when it's

  too late," he continued more quietly. "It was

  at Cambridge that I met the other fellow----"

  "Young Eardsley?"

  "Yes--young Eardsley. His father, as you

  know, was one of South Africa's most

  prominent men. We drifted together at once, my friend and I. We had our love of South

  Africa in common and we both had a taste for

  the untrodden places of the world. After we

  291

  left Cambridge, Eardsley had a final quarrel

  with his father. The old man had paid his

  debts twice, he refused to do so again. There

  was a bitter scene between them. Sir

  Laurence declared himself at the end of his

  patience—he would do no more for his son.

  He must stand on his own legs for a while.

  The result was, as you know, that those two

  young men went off to South America

  together, prospecting for diamonds. Fin not

  going into that now, but we had a wonderful

  time out there. Hardships in plenty, you

  understand, but it was a good life—a hand-tomouth

  scramble for existence far from the

  beaten track—and, my God that's the place to

  know a friend. There was a bond forged

  between us two out there that only death

  could have broken. Well, as Colonel Race

  told you, our efforts were crowned with

  success, We found a second Kimberley in the

  heart of the British Guiana jungles. I can't

  tell you our elation. It wasn't so much the

  actual yalue in money of the find—you see,

  Eardsley was used to money, and he knew

  that wtien his father died he would be a

  millionaire, and Lucas had always been poor

  and was used to it. No, it was the sheer

  delight of discovery."

  292

  He paused, and then added, almost

  apologetically.

  "You don't mind my telling it this way, do

  you? As though I wasn't in it at all. It seems

  like that now when I look back and see those

  two boys. I almost forgot that one of them

  was—Harry Rayburn."

  "Tell it any way you like," I said, and he

  went on:

  "We came to Kimberley—very cock-a-hoop

  over our find. We brought a magnificent

  selection of diamonds with us to submit to

  the experts. And then—in the hotel at

  Kimberley—we met her——"

  I stiffened a little, and the hand that rested

  on the door-post clenched itself involuntarily.

  "Anita Griinberg—that was her name. She

  was an actress. Quite young and very

  beautiful. She was South African born, but

  her mother was a Hungarian, I believe. There

  was some sort of mystery about her, and that,

  of course, heightened her attraction for two

  boys home from the wilds. She must have had

  an easy task. We both fell for her right away,

  and we both took it hard. It was the first

  shadow that had ever come between us—but

  even then it didn't weaken our friendship.

  Each of us, I honestly believe, was willing to

  293

  stand aside for the other to go in and win. But

  that wasn't her game. Sometimes, afterwards,

  I wondered why it hadn't been, for Sir

  Laurence Eadsley's only son was quite a

  parti. But the truth of it was that she was

  married—to a sorter in De Beers'—though

  nobody knew of it. She pretended enormous

  interest in our discovery, and we told her all

  about it and even showed her the diamonds.

  Delilah—that's what she should have been

  called—and she played her part well!

  "The De Beers robbery was discovered,

  and like a thunderclap the police came down

  upon us. They seized our diamonds. We only

  laughed at first—the whole thing was so

  absurd. And then the diamonds were

  produced in court—and without question

  they were the stones stolen from De Beers'.

  Anita Griinberg had disappeared. She had

  effected the substitution neatly enough, and

  our story that these were not the stones

  originally in our possession was laughed to

  scorn.

  "Sir Laurence Eardsley had enormous

  influence. He succeeded in getting the case

  dismissed—but it left two young men ruined

  and disgraced to face the world with the

  stigma of thief attached to their name, but it

  294

  pretty well broke the old fellow's heart. He

  had one bitter interview with his son in

  which he heaped upon him every reproach

  imaginable. He had done what he could to

  save the family name, but from that day on

  his son was his son no longer. He cast him off

  utterly. And the boy, like the proud young

  fool that he was, remained silent, disdaining

  to protest his innocence in the face of his

  father's disbelief. He came out furious from

  the interview—his friend was waiting for

  him. A week later, war was declared. The two

  friends enlisted together. You know what

  happened. The best pa
l a man ever had was

  killed, partly through his own mad

  recklessness in rushing into unnecessary

  danger. He died with his name tarnished. . ..

  "I swear to you, Anne, that it was mainly

  on his account that I was so bitter against that

  woman. It had gone deeper with him than

  with me. I had been madly in love with her

  for the moment—1 even think that I

  frightened her sometimes—but with him it

  was a quieter and deeper feeling. She had

  been the very centre of his universe—and her

  betrayal of him tore up the very roots of life.

  The blow stunned him and left him

  paralysed."

  295

  RE

  Harry paused. After a minute or two he

  went on:

  "As you know, I was reported "Missing,

  presumed killed'. I never troubled to correct

  the mistake. I took the name of Parker and

  came to this island, which I knew of old. At

  the beginning of the War I had had ambitious

  hopes of proving my innocence, but now all

  that spirit seemed dead. All I felt was,

  "What's the good?' My pal was dead, neither

  he nor I had any living relations who would

  care. I was supposed to be dead too, let it

  remain at that. I led a peaceful existence here,

  neither happy nor unhappy—numbed of all

  feeling. I see now, though I did not realize it

  at the time, that that was partly the effect of

  the War.

  "And then one day something occurred to

  wake me right up again. I was taking a party

  of people in my boat on a trip up the river,

  and I was standing at the landing-stage,

  helping them in, when one of the men uttered

  a startled exclamation. It focused my

  attention to him. He was a small, thin man

  with a beard, and he was staring at me for all

  he was worth as though I was a ghost. So

  powerful was his emotion that it awakened

  my curiosity. I made inquiries about him at

  296

  the hotel a11^ learned that his name was

  Carton tha^ he came from Kimberley, and

  that he was ^ diamond-sorter employed by De Beers'. In a "imute all the old sense of wrong

  surged over rne again. I left the island and

  went to Kimberley.

  "I could ^d out little more about him, however. It^ ^ enc^ ^ decided that I must

  force an int^i^' ^ t00^ my fevolver with

  me. In the piet glimpse I had had of him, I

  had realized ^at he was a physical coward.

  No sooner were we ^ace to ^ace ^an I

  recognized ^at he was afraid of me. I soon

  forced him to te^ me a^ he knew. He had

  engineered Pa^ °^ the robbery and Anita

  Grunberg W98 his wife. He had once caught

  sight ofboti^ o^us when we were dining with

  her at the b01^ anc^ having read that I was

  killed, my aPP^1'2111^ in ^e flesh at the Falls

  had startled him badly. He and Anita had

  married qui^ y01111^? but she had soon drifted

  away from ^lln- She had got in with a bad lot, he told me^^d it was then for the first time

  that I heard °fthe "Colonel." Carton himself

  had never b^" "^i^d up in anything except

  this one afl^111'"80 he solemnly assured me, and I was pclined to believe him. He was

  297

  emphatically not of the stuff of which

  successful criminals are made.

  "I still had the feeling that he was keeping

  back something. As a test, I threatened to

  shoot him there and then, declaring that I

  cared very little what became of me now. In a

  frenzy of terror he poured out a further story.

  It seems that Anita Griinberg did not quite

  trust the "Colonel." Whilst pretending to

  hand over to him the stones she had taken

  from the hotel, she kept back some in her

  own possession. Carton advised her, with his

  technical knowledge, which to keep. If, at any

  time, these stones were produced, they were

  of such colour and quality as to be readily

  identifiable, and the experts at De Beers'

  would admit at once that these stones had

  never passed through their hands. In this

  way, my story of a substitution would be

  supported, my name would be cleared, and

  suspicion would be diverted to the proper

  quarter. I gathered that, contrary to his usual

  practice, the "Colonel" himself had been

  concerned in this affair, therefore Anita felt

  satisfied that she had a real hold over him,

  should she need it. Carton now proposed that

  I should make a bargain with Anita

  Gninberg, or Nadina, as she now called

  298

  herself. For a sufficient sum of money, he

  thought that she would be willing to give up

  the diamonds and betray her former

  employer. He would cable to her

  immediately.

  "I was still suspicious of Carton. He was a

  man whom it was easy enough to frighten,

  but who, in his fright, would tell so many lies

  that to sift the truth out from them would be

  no easy job. I went back to the hotel and

  waited. By the following evening I judged

  that he would have received the reply to his

  cable. I called round at his house and was told

  that Mr. Carton was away, but would be

  returning on the morrow. Instantly I became

  suspicious. In the nick of time I found out

  that he was in reality sailing for England on

  the Kilmorden Castle, which left Cape Town

  in two day's time. I had just time to journey

  down and catch the same boat.

  "I had no intention of alarming Carton by

  revealing my presence on board. I had done a

  good deal of acting in my time at Cambridge,

  and it was comparatively easy for me to

  transform myself into a grave bearded

  gentleman of middle age. I avoided Carton

  carefully on board the boat, keeping to my

  TMITBS20 299

  own cabin as far as possible under the

  pretence of illness.

  "I had no difficulty in trailing him when

  we got to London. He went straight to an

  hotel and did not go out until the following

  day. He left the hotel shortly before one

  o'clock. I was behind him. He went straight

  to a house-agent in Knightsbridge. There he

  asked for particulars of houses to let on the

  river.

  "I was at the next table also inquiring about

  houses. Then suddenly in walked Anita

  Gninberg, Nadina—whatever you like to call

  her. Superb, insolent, and almost as beautiful

  as ever. God! how I hated her. There she was,

  the woman who had ruined my life—and who

  had also ruined a better life than mine. At

  that minute I could have put my hands round

  her neck and squeezed the life out other inch

  by inch! Just for a minute or two I saw red. I

  hardly took in what the agent was saying. It

  was her voice that I heard next, high and

  clear, with an exaggerated foreign accent:

&nbs
p; "The Mill House, Marlow. The property of

  Sir Eustace Pedler. That sounds as though it

  might suit me. At any rate, I will go and see

  it.'

  "The man wrote her an order, and she

  300

  walked out again in her regal insolent

  manner. Not by word or a sign had she

  recognized Carton, yet I was sure that their

  meeting there was a preconceived plan. Then

  I started to jump to conclusions. Not

  knowing that Sir Eustace was at Cannes, I

  thought that this house-hunting business was

  a mere pretext for meeting him in the Mill

  House. I knew that he had been in South

  Africa at the time of the robbery, and never

  having seen him I immediately leaped to the

  conclusion that he himself was the mysterious

  "Colonel" of whom I had heard so much.

  "I followed my two suspects along

  Knightsbridge. Nadina went into the Hyde

  Park Hotel. I quickened my pace and went in

  also. She walked straight into the restaurant,

  and I decided that I would not risk her

  recognizing me at the moment, but would

  continued to follow Carton. I was in great

  hopes that he was going to get the diamonds,

  and that by suddenly appearing and making

  myself known to him when he least expected

  it I might startle the truth out of him. I

  followed him down into the Tube station at

  Hyde Park Corner. He was standing by

  himself at the end of the platform. There was

  some girl standing near, but no one else. I

  301

  decided that I would accost him then and

  there. You know what happened. In the

  sudden shock of seeing a man whom he

  imagined far away in South Africa, he lost his

  head and stepped back upon the line. He was

  always a coward. Under the pretext of being a

  doctor, I managed to search his pockets.

  There was a wallet with some notes in it and

  one or two unimportant letters, there was a

  roll of films—which I must have dropped

  somewhere later—and there was a piece of

  paper with an appointment made on it for the

  22nd on the Kilmorden Castle. In my haste to

  get away before anyone detained me, I

  dropped that also, but fortunately I

  remembered the figures.

  "I hurried to the nearest cloak-room and

  hastily removed my make-up. I did not want

  to be laid by the heels for picking a dead

  man's pocket. Then I retraced my steps to the

 

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