come to the wrong address."
"From your point of view, I am afraid you
have. Really, Miss Beddingfield, to fall into
the trap a second time!"
"It was not very bright of me," I admitted
meekly.
359
Something about my manner seemed to
puzzle him.
"You hardly seem upset by the occurrence,"
he remarked dryly.
"Would my going into heroics have any
effect upon you?" I asked.
"It certainly would not."
"My Great-aunt Jane always used to say
that a true lady was neither shocked nor
surprised at anything that might happen," I
murmured dreamily. "I endeavour to live up
to her precepts."
I read Mr. Chichester-Pettigrew's opinion
so plainly written on his face that I hastened
into speech once more.
"You really are positively marvellous at
make-up," I said generously. "All the time
you were Miss Pettigrew I never recognized
you--even when you broke your pencil in the
shock of seeing me climb upon the train at
Cape Town."
He tapped upon the desk with the pencil he
was holding in his hand at the minute.
"All this is very well in its way, but we
must get to business. Perhaps, Miss Beddingfield,
you can guess why we required your
presence here?"
"You will excuse me," I said, "but I never
360
do business with anyone but principals."
I had read the phrase or something like it in
a moneylender's circular, and I was rather
pleased with it. It certainly had a devastating
effect upon Mr. Chichester-Pettigrew. He
opened his mouth and then shut it again. I
beamed upon him.
"My Great-uncle George's maxim," I
added, as an afterthought. "Great-aunt Jane's
husband, you know. He made knobs for brass
beds."
I doubt if Chichester-Pettigrew had ever
been ragged before. He didn't like it at all.
"I think you would be wise to alter your
tone, young lady."
I did not reply, but yawned—a delicate
little yawn that hinted at intense boredom.
"What the devil——" he began forcibly.
I interrupted him.
"I can assure you it's no good shouting at
me. We are only wasting time here. I have no
intention of talking with underlings. You will
save a lot of time and annoyance by taking me
straight to Sir Eustace Pedler."
"To——"
He looked dumbfounded.
"Yes," I said. "Sir Eustace Pedler."
"I—I— excuse me——"
361
He bolted from the room like a rabbit. I
took advantage of the respite to open my bag
and powder my nose thoroughly. Also I
settled my hat at a more becoming angle.
Then I settled myself to wait with patience
for my enemy's return.
He reappeared in a subtly changed mood.
"Will you come this way. Miss Beddingfield?"
I
followed him up the stairs. He knocked at
the door of a room, a brisk "Come in"
sounded from inside, and he opened the door
and motioned to me to pass inside.
Sir Eustace Pedler sprang up to greet me,
genial and smiling.
"Well, well. Miss Anne." He shook me
warmly by the hand. "I'm delighted to see
you. Come and sit down. Not tired after your
journey? That's good."
He sat down facing me, still beaming. It
left me rather at a loss. His manner was so
completely natural.
"Quite right to insist on being brought
straight to me," he went on. "Minks is a fool.
A clever actor—but a fool. That was Minks
you saw downstairs."
"Oh, really," I said feebly.
"And now," said Sir Eustace cheerfully,
362
FR1;"let's get down to facts. How long have you
known that I was the 'Colonel'?"
"Ever since Mr. Pagett told me that he had
seen you in Marlow when you were supposed
to be in Cannes."
Sir Eustace nodded ruefully.
"Yes, I told the fool he'd blinking well torn
it. He didn't understand, of course. His
whole mind was set on whether Pd recognized
him. It never occurred to him to
wonder what I was doing down there. A piece
of sheer bad luck that was. I arranged it all so
carefully too, sending him off to Florence, telling the hotel I was going over to Nice for
one night or possibly two. Then by the time
the murder was discovered, I was back again
in Cannes, with nobody dreaming that I'd
ever left the Riviera."
He still spoke quite naturally and
unaffectedly. I had to pinch myself to understand
that this was all real--that the man in
front of me was really that deep-dyed
criminal, the "Colonel." I followed things
out in my mind.
"Then it was you who tried to throw me
overboard on the Kilmorden^ I said slowly. 'It was you that Pagett followed up on deck
that night?"
TMITBS24 363
He shrugged his shoulders.
"I apologize, my dear child, I really do. I
always liked you--but you were so confoundedly
interfering. I couldn't have all my
plans brought to naught by a chit of a girl."
"I think your plan at the Falls was really
the cleverest," I said, endeavouring to look at
the thing in a detached fashion. "I would
have been ready to swear anywhere that you
were in the hotel when I went out. Seeing is
believing in future."
"Yes, Minks had one of his greatest
successes, as Miss Pettigrew, and he can
imitate my voice quite creditably."
"There is one thing I should like to know."
"Yes?"
"How did you induce Pagett to engage
her?"
"Oh, that was quite simple. She met Pagett
in the doorway of the Trade Commissioner's
office or the Chamber of Mines, or wherever
it was he went--told him I had 'phoned down
in a hurry, and that she had been selected by
the Government department in question.
Pagett swallowed it like a lamb."
"You're very frank," I said, studying him.
"There's no earthly reason why I shouldn't
be."
364
I didn't like the sound of that. I hastened to
put my own interpretation on it.
"You believe in the success of this
Revolution? You've burnt your boats."
"For an otherwise intelligent young
woman, that's a singularly unintelligent
remark. No, my dear child, I do not believe in
this Revolution. I give it a couple of days
longer and it will fizzle out ignominiously."
"Not one of your successes, in fact?" I said
nastily.
"Like all women, you've no idea of
business. The job I took on was to supply
certain explosives and arms—
heavily paid
for—to foment feeling generally, and to
incriminate certain people up to the hilt. I've
carried out my contract with complete
success, and I was careful to be paid in
advance. I took special care over the whole
thing, as I intended it to be my last contract
before retiring from business. As for burning
my boats, as you call it, I simply don't know
what you mean. I'm not the rebel chief, or
anything of that kind—I'm a distinguished
Bnglish visitor, who had the misfortune to go
nosing into a certain curio-shop—and saw a
1 * « JL
little more than he was meant to, and so the
poor fellow was kidnapped. To-morrow, or
365
the day after, when circumstances permit. I
shall be found tied up somewhere, in a
pitiable state of terror and starvation."
"Ah!" I said slowly. "But what about me?"
"That's just it," said Sir Eustace softly.
"What about you? I've got you here—I don't
want to rub it in in any way—but I've got you
here very neatly. The question is, what am I
going to do with you? The simplest way of
disposing of you—and, I may add, the
pleasantest to myself—is the way of marriage.
Wives can't accuse their husbands, you
know, and I'd rather like a pretty young wife
to hold my hand and glance at me out of
liquid eyes—don't flash them at me so! You
quite frighten me. I see that the plan does not
commend itself to you?"
"It does not."
Sir Eustace sighed.
"A pity! But I am no Adelphi villain. The
usual trouble, I suppose. You love another, as
the books say."
"I love another."
"I thought as much—first I thought it was
that long-legged, pompous ass, Race, but I
suppose it's the young hero who fished you
out of the Falls that night. Women have no
taste. Neither of those two have half the
366
brains that I have. I'm such an easy person to
underestimate."
I think he was right about that. Although I
knew well enough the kind of man he was and
must be, I could not bring myself to realize it.
He had tried to kill me on more than one
occasion, he had actually killed another
woman, and he was responsible for endless
other deeds of which I knew nothing, and yet
I was quite unable to bring myself into the
frame of mind for appreciating his deeds as
they deserved. I could not think of him as
other than our amusing, genial travelling
companion. I could not even feel frightened
of him—and yet I knew he was capable of
having me murdered in cold blood if it struck
him as necessary. The only parallel I can
thinly of is the case of Stevenson's Long John
Silver. He must have been much the same
kind of man.
"Well, well," said this extraordinary
person, leaning back in his chair. "It's a pity
that the idea of being Lady Pedler doesn't
appeal to you. The other alternatives are
rather crude."
I felt a nasty feeling going up and down my
spi^. Of course I had known all along that I
wa$ taking a big risk, but the prize had
367
seemed worth it. Would things turn out as I
had calculated, or would they not?
"The fact of the matter is," Sir Eustace was
continuing, "I've a weakness for you. I really
don't want to proceed to extremes. Suppose
you tell me the whole story, from the very
beginning and let's see what we can make of
it. But no romancing, mind—I want the
truth."
I was not going to make any mistake over
that. I had a great deal of respect for Sir
Eustace's shrewdness. It was a moment for
the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but
the truth. I told him the whole story,
omitting nothing, up to the moment of my
rescue by Harry. When I had finished, he
nodded his head in approval.
"Wise girl. You've made a clean breast of
the thing. And let me tell you I should soon
have caught you out if you hadn't. A lot of
people wouldn't believe your story, anyway,
especially the beginning part, but I do.
You're the kind of girl who would start off
like that—at a moment's notice, on the
slenderest of motives. You've had amazing
luck, of course, but sooner or later the
amateur runs up against the professional and
then the result is a foregone conclusion. I am
368
the professional. I started on this business
when I was quite a youngster. All things
considered, it seemed to me a good way of
getting rich quickly. I always could think
things out and devise ingenious schemes--
and I never made the mistake of trying to
carry out my schemes myself. Always employ
the expert--that has been my motto. The one
time I departed from it I came to grief--but I
couldn't trust anyone to do that job for me.
Nadina knew too much. I'm an easygoing
man, kind-hearted and good-tempered so
long as I'm not thwarted. Nadina both
thwarted me and threatened me--just as I was
at the apex of a successful career. Once she
was dead and the diamonds were in my
possession, I was safe. I've come to the
conclusion now that I bungled the job. That
idiot Pagett, with his wife and family! My
fault--it tickled my sense of humour to
employ the fellow, with his Cinquecento
poisoner's face and his mid-Victorian soul. A
maxim for you, my dear Anne. Don't let your
sense of humour carry you away. For years
I've had an instinct that it would be wise to
get rid of Pagett, but the fellow was so hardworking
and conscientious that I honestly
369
couldn't find an excuse for sacking him. So I
let things drift.
"But we're wandering from the point. The
question is what to do with you. Your
narrative was admirably clear, but there is
one thing that still escape me. Where are the
diamonds now?"
"Harry Rayburn has them," I said,
watching him.
His face did not change, it retained its
expression of sardonic good-humour.
"H'm. I want those diamonds."
"I don't see much chance of your getting
them," I replied.
"Don't you? Now I do. I don't want to be
unpleasant, but I should like you to reflect
that a dead girl or so found in this quarter of
the city will occasion no surprise. There's a
man downstairs who does those sort of jobs
very neatly. Now, you're a sensible young
woman. What I propose is this: you will sit
down and write to Harry Rayburn, telling
him to join you here and bring the diamonds
with him——"
>
"I won't do anything of the kind."
"Don't interrupt your elders. I propose to
make a bargain with you. The diamonds in
exchange for your life. And don't make any
370
mistake about it, your life is absolutely in my
power."
"And Harry?"
"I'm far too tender-hearted to part two
young lovers. He shall go free too—on the
understanding, of course, that neither of you
interfere with me in future."
"And what guarantee have I that you will
keep your side of the bargain?"
"None whatsoever, my dear girl. You'll
have to trust me and hope for the best. Of
course, if you're in an heroic mood and prefer
annihilation, that's another matter."
This was what I had been playing for. I was
careful not to jump at the bait. Gradually I
allowed myself to be bullied and cajoled into
yielding. I wrote at Sir Eustace's dictation:
"dear harry,
I think I see a chance of establishing your
innocence beyond any possible doubt. Please
follow my instructions minutely. Go to
Agrasato's curio-shop. Ask to see something
'out of the ordinary,' Tor a special occasion.'
The man will then ask you to 'come into the
back room.' Go with him. You will find a
messenger who will bring you to me. Do
exactly as he tells you. Be sure and bring the
diamonds with you. Not a word to anyone."
371
Sir Eustace stopped.
"I leave the fancy touches to your own
imagination," he remarked. "But be careful
to make no mistakes."
" 'Yours for ever and ever, Anne/ will be
sufficient," I remarked.
I wrote in the words. Sir Eustace stretched
out his hand for the letter and read it
through.
"That seems all right. Now the address."
I gave it him. It was that of a small shop
which received letters and telegrams for a
consideration.
He struck the bell upon the table with his
hand. Chichester-Pettigrew, alias Minks,
answered the summons.
"This letter is to go immediately—the
usual route."
"Very well. Colonel."
He looked at the name on the envelope. Sir
Eustace was watching him keenly.
"A friend of yours, I think?"
"Of mine?" The man seemed startled.
"You had a prolonged conversation with
him in Johannesburg yesterday."
"A man came up and questioned me about
your movements and those of Colonel Race. I
AgathaChristie-TheManInTheBrownSuit Page 27