Passenger to Frankfurt

by Agatha Christie

; 23

  'Yes. One's bored' stiff in these airports. Planes comin

  planes going. Tannoy going full steam ahead. Flight 3(

  leaving for Hong Kong, Flight 109 going to Ireland. Tfc

  that and the other. People getting up, people leaving. Ai

  you just sit there yawning.'

  'What happened exactly?' said Chetwynd.

  'Well, I'd got a drink in front of me, Pilsner as a matt

  of fact, then I thought I'd got to get something else to rea

  I'd read everything I'd got with me so I went over to tl

  counter and bought some wretched paperback or other:

  Detective story, I think it was, and I bought a woolly

  animal for one of my nieces. Then I came back, finism i

  my drink, opened my paperback and then I went to sleep '

  'Yes, I see. You went to sleep.'

  'Well, a very natural thing to do, isn't it? I suppose the called my flight but if they did I didn't hear it. I didn :

  hear it apparently for the best of reasons. I'm capable <;

  going to sleep in an airport any time but I'm also capab

  of hearing an announcement that concerns me. This tin :. I didn't. When I woke up, or came to, however you lil<',

  to put it, I was having a bit of medical attention. Somi

  body apparently had dropped a Mickey Finn or somethini- or other in my drink. Must have done it when I was away

  getting the paperback.'

  'Rather an extraordinary things to happen, wasn't it'/'

  said Chetwynd.

  'Well, it's never happened to me before,' said Stafford

  Nye. 'I hope it never will again. It makes you feel an awfi;;

  fool, you know. Besides having a hangover. There was s doctor and some nurse creature, or something. Anyway.

  there was no great harm done apparently. My wallet ha":

  been pinched with some money in it and my passport. It we;

  awkward of course. Fortunately, I hadn't got much money

  My travellers' cheques were in an inner pocket. There alway- has to be a bit of red tape and all that if you lose yol;

  passport. Anyway, I had letters and things and identificatio':

  was not difficult. And in due course things were, square.

  up and I resumed my flight.'

  'Still, very annoying for you,' said Chetwynd. 'A perso of

  your status, I mean.' His tone was disapproving.

  'Yes,' said Stafford Nye. 'It doesn't show me in a ver

  good light, does it? I mean, not as bright as a fellow c

  my--er--status ought to be.' The idea seemed to amuse him

  'Does this often happen, did you find out?'

  *I don't think it's a matter of general occurrence. It coul

  24

  be. I suppose any person with a pick-pocket trend could

  notice a fellow asleep and slip a hand into a pocket, and

  if he's accomplished in his profession, get hold of a wallet

  or a pocket-book or something like that, and hope for some

  luck.'

  'Pretty awkward to lose a passport.'

  'Yes, I shall have to put in for another one now. Make a lot of explanations, I suppose. As I say, the whole thing's

  a damn silly business. And let's face it, Chetwynd, it doesn't

  show me in a very favourable light, does it?'

  'Oh, not your fault, my dear boy, not your fault. It could

  happen to anybody, anybody at all.'

  'Very nice of you to say so,' said Stafford Nye, smiling at

  him agreeably. 'Teach me a sharp lesson, won't it?'

  'You don't think anyone wanted your passport specially?'

  I shouldn't think so,' said Stafford Nye. 'Why should they

  want my passport. Unless it was a matter of someone who

  wished to annoy me and that hardly seems likely. Or somebody

  who took a fancy to my passport photo--and that seems

  even less likely!'

  'Did you see anyone you knew at this--where did you

  say you were--Frankfurt?'

  'No, no. Nobody at all.'

  Talk to anyone?'

  'Not particularly. Said something to a nice fat woman

  who'd got a small child she was trying to amuse. Came

  from Wigan, I think. Going to Australia. Don't remember

  anybody else.'

  'You're sure?'

  There was some woman or other who wanted to know

  what she did if she wanted to study archaeology in Egypt.

  Said I didn't know anything about that. I told her she'd

  better go and ask the British Museum. And I had a word

  or two with a man' who I think was an anti-vivisectionist.

  Very passionate about it.'

  'One always feels,' said Chetwynd, 'that there might be

  something behind things like this.'

  Things like what?'

  'Well, things like what happened to you.*

  'I don't see what can be behind this,' said Sir Stafford.

  'I daresay journalists could make up some story, they're

  so clever at that sort of thing. Still, it's a silly business. For

  goodness' sake, let's forget it.'I suppose now it's been mentioned

  in the press, all my friends will start asking me about

  it. How's old Leyland? What's he up to nowadays? I heard

  25

  one or two things about him out there. Leyland always ta ? a bit too much,'

  The two men talked amiable shop for ten minutes or

  then Sir Stafford got up and went out.

  'I've got a lot of things to do this morning,' he said. 'P

  sents to buy for my relations. The trouble is that if one gi ._

  to Malaya, all one's relations expect you to bring excre

  presents to them. I'll go round to Liberty's, I think. Thay

  have a nice stock of Eastern goods there.'

  He went out cheerfully, nodding to a couple of men s;a

  knew in the corridor outside. After he had gone, Chetwy:ij

  spoke through the telephone to his secretary.

  'Ask Colonel Munro if he can come to me.'

  Colonel Munro came in, bringing another tall middle- aged man with him.

  'Don't know whether you know Horsham,' he said, in

  Security.'

  Think I've met you,' said Chetwynd.

  'Nye's just left you, hasn't he?' said Colonel Munro. 'Ar ything

  in this story about Frankfurt? Anything, I mean, tl.a.t

  we ought to take any notice of?'

  'Doesn't seem so,' said Chetwynd. 'He's a bit put c't

  about it. Thinks it makes him look a silly ass. Which it doe:;,

  of course.'

  The man called Horsham nodded his head.- That's the way he takes it, is it?'

  'Well, he tried, to put a good face upon it,' said Chetwyr, '.

  'All the same, you know,' said Horsham, 'he's not really a

  silly ass, is he?'

  Chetwynd shrugged his shoulders. These things nappe" '

  he said.

  'I know,' said Colonel Munro, 'yes, yes, I know. All t^s same, well, I've always felt in some ways that Nye is a ' 't

  unpredictable. That in some ways, you know, he mighfc i

  be really sound in his views.'

  The man called Horsham spoke. 'Nothing against bin

  he said. 'Nothing at all as far as we know.'

  'Oh, I didn't mean there was. I didn't mean that at a" '

  said Chetwynd. 'It's just--how shall I put it?--he's d

  always very serious about things.'

  Mr Horsham had a moustache. He found it useful

  have a moustache. It concealed moments when he found

  difficult to avoid smiling.

  'He's not a stupid man,' said Munro. 'Got brains, y< 26

  know. You don't
think that--well, I mean you don't think

  there could be anything at all doubtful about this?'

  'On his part? It doesn't seem so.'

  'You've been into it all, Horsham?'

  'Well, we haven't had very much time yet. But as far

  as it goes it's all right. But his passport was used.'

  'Used? In what way?'

  ^It passed through Heathrow.'

  You mean someone represented himself as SSr Stafford

  Nye?'

  'No, no,' said Horsham, 'not in so many words. We could

  hardly hope for that. It went through with other passports.

  There was no alarm out, you know. He hadn't even woken

  up, I gather, at that time, from the dope or whatever it was

  he was given. He was still at Frankfurt.'

  'But someone could have stolen that passport and come on the plane and so got into England?'

  'Yes,' said Munro, 'that's the presumption. Either someone

  took a wallet which had money in it and a passport, or

  else someone wanted a passport and settled on Sir Stafford

  Nye as a convenient person to take it from. A drink was

  waiting on a table, put a pinch in that, wait till the man went

  off to sleep, take the passport and chance it.'

  'But after all, they look at a passport. Must have seen it

  wasn't the right man,' said Chetwynd.

  'Well, there must have been a certain resemblance, certainly,'

  said Horsham. 'But it isn't as though there was any

  notice of his being missing, any special attention drawn to

  that particular passport in any way. A large crowd comes

  through on a plane that's overdue. A man looks reasonably

  like the photograph in his passport. That's all. Brief glance,

  handed back, pass it on. Anyway what they're looking for

  usually is the foreigners that are coming in, not the British lot.

  Dark hair, dark blue eyes, clean shaven, five foot ten or whatever

  it is. That's about all you want to see. Not on a list of

  undesirable aliens or anything like that.'

  'I know, I know. Still, you'd say if anybody wanted merely

  to pinch a wallet or some money or that, they wouldn't

  use the passport, would they. Too much risk.'

  'Yes,' said Horsham. 'Yes, that is the interesting part of

  it. Of course,' he said, 'we're making investigations, asking a

  few questions here and there.'

  'And what's your own opinion?'

  'I wouldn't like to say yet,' said Horsham. 'It takes a little

  time, you know. One can't hurry things'

  27

  'They're all the same,' said Colonel Munro, when H< sham had left the room. 'They never will tell you anytnii

  those damned security people. If they think they're on t

  trail of anything, they won't admit it.'

  'Well, that's natural,' said Chetwynd, 'because they mig be wrong.'

  It seemed a typically political view.

  'Horsham's a pretty good man,' said Munro. They thi

  very highly of him at headquarters. He's not likely to

  wrong.'

  Chapter 3

  THE MAN FROM THE CLEANERS

  Sir Stafford Nye returned to his flat. A large woman bounced

  out of the small kitchen with welcoming words.

  'See you got back all right, sir. Those nasty planes. Yru

  never know, do you?'

  'Quite true, Mrs Worrit,' said Sir Stafford Nye. Two how late, the plane was.'

  'Same as cars, aren't they,' said Mrs Worrit. 'I mea

  you never know, do you, what's going to go wrong wi..� them. Only it's more worrying, so to speak, being up in t;e

  air, isn't it? Can't just draw up to the kerb, not the sane

  way, can you? I mean, there you are. I wouldn't go by one

  myself, not if it was ever so.' She went on, 'I've ordered ;n

  a few things. I hope that's all right. Eggs, butter, cofft:, tea--' She ran off the words with the loquacity of a Ne '"

  Eastern guide showing a Pharaoh's palace. There,' said M''s

  Worrit, pausing-to take breath, 'I think that's all as you're

  likely to want. I've ordered the French mustard.'

  'Not Dijon, is it? They always try and give you Dijoi

  ''I don't know who he was, but it's Esther Dragon, ti

  one you like, isn't it?'

  "Quite right,' said Sir Stafford, 'you're a wonder.'

  Mrs Worrit looked pleased. She retired into the kitchi

  again, as Sir Stafford Nye put his hand on his bedroom do

  handle preparatory to going into the bedroom.

  'All right to give your clothes to the gentleman wh i called for them, I suppose, sir? You hadn't said or left we

  or anything like that.'

  'What clothes?' said Sir Stafford Nye, pausing. 28

  'Two suits, it was, the gentleman said as called for them.

  Twiss and Bonywork it was, think that's the same name as

  called before. We'd had a bit of a dispute with the White

  Swan Laundry if I remember rightly.'

  �Two suits?' said Sir Stanford Nye. 'Which suits?'

  'Well, there was the one you travelled home in, sir. I

  made out that would be one of them. I wasn't quite so

  sure at it the other, but there was the blue pinstripe that

  you d' ; 't leave no orders about when you went away. It

  could : i with cleaning, and there was a repair wanted

  doing �' the right-hand cuff, but I didn't like to take it on

  myseh hile you were away. I never likes to do that,' said

  Mrs W.--rit with an air of palpable virtue.

  'So ; -�;; chap, whoever he was, took those suits away?'

  'I h. ,e I didn't do wrong, sir.' Mrs Worrit became

  worried.

  'I don't mind the blue pinstripe. I daresay it's all for the

  best. The suit I came home in, well�'

  'It's a bit thin, that suit, sir, for this time of year, you

  know, sir. All right for those parts as you've been in where *

  it's hot. And it could do with a clean. He said as you'd

  rung up about them. That's what the gentleman said as

  called for them.'

  'Did he go into my room and pick them out himself?'

  'Yes, sir. I thought that was best.'

  'Very interesting,' said Sir Stafford. 'Yes, very interesting.'

  He went into his bedroom and looked round it. It was

  neat and tidy. The bed was made, the hand of Mrs Worrit

  was apparent, his electric razor was on charge, the things

  on the dressing-table were neatly arranged.

  He went to the wardrobe and looked inside. He looked

  in the drawers of the tallboy that stood against the wall

  near the window. It was all quite tidy. It was tidier indeed

  than it should have been. He had done a little unpacking

  last night and what little he had done had been of a cursory

  nature. He had thrown underclothing and various odds

  and ends in the appropriate drawer but he had not arranged

  them neatly. He would have done that himself either today

  or tomorrow. He would not have expected Mrs Worrit to do it

  for him. He expected her merely to keep things as she found

  them. Then, when he came back from abroad, there would be

  a time for rearrangements and readjustments because of

  climate and other matters. So someone had looked round here,

  ^onieone had taken out drawers, looked through them quickly,

  ^""rriedly, had replaced things, partly because of his hurry,

  29

  more tidily
and neatly than he should have done. A qui

  careful job and he had gone away with two suits Sand ;

  plausible explanation. One suit obviously worn by Sir Staso ;

  when travelling and a suit of thin material which might ha ..

  been one taken abroad and brought home. So why?

  'Because,' said Sir Stafford thoughtfully, to himself, b cause somebody was looking for something. But what? Ar

  who? And also perhaps why?' Yes, it was interesting.

  He sat down in a chair and thought about it. Present

  his eyes strayed to the table by the bed on which se

  rather pertly, a small furry panda. It started a train i

  thought. He went to the telephone and rang a number.

  That'you. Aunt Matilda?' he said. 'Stafford here.'

  'Ah, my dear boy, so you're back. I'm so glad. I read

  the paper they'd got cholera in Malaya yesterday, at lea

  I think it was Malaya. I always get so mixed up with tho

  places. I hope you're coming to see me soon? Don't pretend

  you're busy. You can't be busy all the time. One reaFv

  only accepts that sort of thing from tycoons, people

  industry, you know, in the middle of mergers and tsk

  overs. I never know what it all really means. It uscl mean doing your work properly but now it means it'-Rgs

  all tied up with atom bombs and factories in concrete, a'd

  Aunt Matilda, rather wildly. 'And those terrible comp"'*:

  that get all one's figures wrong, to say nothing of m&' i

  them the wrong shape. Really, they have made lif& so dsi

  cult for us nowadays. You wouldn't believe the things they'

  done to my bank account. And to my postal address to

  Well, I suppose I've lived too long.'

  'Don't you believe it! All right if I come down next week

  'Come down tomorrow if you like. I've got the vic
  coming to dinner, but I can easily put him off.'

  'Oh, look here, no need to do that.'

  'Yes there is, every need. He's a most irritating man ai

  he wants a new organ too. This one does quite well as it

  I mean the trouble is with the organist, really, not the orga

  An absolutely abominable musician. The vicar's sorry for hi

  because he lost his mother whom he was very fond of. B

  really, being fond of your mother doesn't make you play t '

  organ any better, does it? I mean, one has to look at thin

  as they are.'

  'Quite right. It will have to be next week--I've got a

  few things to see to. How's Sybil?'

  'Dear child! Very naughty but such fun.'

  'I brought her home a woolly panda,' said Sir Stafford

  Nye.

  'We,'; that was very nice of you, dear.'

  'I Sic; I she'll like it,' said Sir Stafford, catching the panda's

  eye and feeling slightly nervous.

  'Well, at any rate, she's got very good manners,' said

  Aunt Matilda, which seemed a somewhat doubtful answer,

  the meaning of which Sir Stafford did not quite appreciate.

  Aunt Matilda suggested likely trains for next week with

  the warning that they very often did not run, or changed

  their plans, and also commanded that he should bring her

  down a Camembert cheese and half a Stilton.

  'Impossible to get anything down here now. Our own

  grocer--such a nice man, so thoughtful and such good taste

  in what we all liked--turned suddenly into a supermarket,

  six times the size, all rebuilt, baskets and wire trays to

  carry round and try to fill up with things you don't want

  and mothers always losing their babies, and crying and having

  hysterics. Most exhausting. Well, I'll be expecting you, deaf- boy.' She rang off.

  The telephone rang again at once.

  'Hullo? Stafford? Eric Pugh here. Heard you were back

  from Malaya--what about dining tonight?'

  'Like to very much.'

  'Good--Limpits Club--eight-fifteen?'

  Mrs Worrit panted into the room as Sir Stafford replaced

  the receiver.

  'A gentleman downstairs wanting to see you, sir,' she

  said. 'At least I mean, I suppose he's that. Anyway he said

  he was sure you wouldn't mind.'

  'What's his name?'

  'Horsham, sir, like the place on the way to Brighton.'

  'Horsham.' Sir Stafford Nye was a little surprised.

  He went out of his bedroom, down a half flight of stairs

  that led to the big sitting-room on the lower floor. Mrs

  Worrit had made no mistake. Horsham it was, looking as

  he had looked half an hour ago, stalwart, trustworthy, cleft

  chin, rubicund cheeks, bushy grey moustache and a general

  air of imperturbability.

  '^Hope you don't mind,' he said agreeably, rising to his feet

  Hope I don't mind what?' said Sir Stafford Nye.

  'Seeing me again so soon. We met in the passage outside

  Mr Gordon Chetwynd's door--if you remember?'

  'No objections at all,' said Sir Stafford Nye,