Passenger to Frankfurt

by Agatha Christie

doing is to recruit a committee to investigate. There are not

  very many of us at the moment forming this committee. We

  ask you to join it because we think that you have certain

  qualities which may help in an investigation.'

  Stafford Nye turned his head towards the Security man.

  'What about it, Horsham?' he said. 'I can't believe you'd

  agree with that?'

  'Why not?' said Henry Horsham.

  'Indeed? What are my "qualities", as you call them? I

  can't, quite frankly, believe in them myself.'

  'You're not a hero-worshipper,' said Horsham. That's why. You're the kind who sees through humbug. You don't take

  anyone at their own or the world's valuation. You take them

  at your own valuation.'

  Ce n'est pas un garyon serieux. The words floated through

  Sir Stafford Nye's mind. A curious reason for which to be

  chosen for a difficult and exacting job.

  'I've got to warn you,' he said, 'that my principal fault,

  and one that's been frequently noticed about me and which

  has cost me several good jobs is, I think, fairly well known.

  I'm not, I should say, a sufficiently serious sort pf chap for

  an important job like this.'

  "Believe it or not,' said Mr Horsham, 'that's one of the

  reasons why they want you. I'm right, my lord, aren't I?'

  He looked towards Lord Altamount.

  'Public service!' said Lord Altamount. 'Let me tell you

  that very often one of the most serious disadvantages in

  public life is when people in a public position take themselves

  too seriously. We feel that you won't. Anyway,' he

  said, 'Mary Arm thinks so.'

  Sir Stafford Nye turned his head. So here she was, no

  longer a countess. She had become Mary Arm again.

  'You don't mind my asking,' he said, 'but who are you

  really? I mean, are you a real countess.'

  'Absolutely. Geboren, as the Germans say. My father was

  a man of pedigree, a good sportsman, a splendid shot, and

  had a very romantic but somewhat dilapidated castle in

  Bavaria. It's, still there, the castle. As far as that goes, I

  have connections with that large portion of the European

  world which is still heavily snobbish as far as birth is concerned.

  A poor and shabby countess sits down first at the

  table whilst a rich American with a fabulous fortune in dollars "t the bank is kept waiting.'

  81

  "What about Daphne Theodofanous? Where does she come

  in?'

  'A useful name for a passport. My mother was Greek.'

  ,'And Mary Arm?'

  It was almost the first smile Stafford Nye had seen on

  her face. Her eyes went to Lord Altamount and from him

  to Mr Robinson.

  'Perhaps,' she said, 'because I'm a kind of maid-of-allwork,

  going places, looking for- things, taking things from

  one country to another, sweeping under the mat, do anything,

  go anywhere, clear up the mess.' She looked towards

  Lord Altamount again. 'Am I right,-Uncle Ned?'

  'Quite right, my dear. Mary Arm you are and always

  will be to us.'

  'Were you taking something on that plane? I mean taking

  something important from one country to another?'

  'Yes. It was known I was carrying it. If you hacSa't

  come to my rescue, if you hadn't drunk possibly pois^ ,,.;

  beer and handed over your bandit cloak of bright co' s

  as a disguise, well, accidents happen sometimes. I shoi - t

  have got here.'

  'What were you carrying--or mustn't I ask? Are os;

  things I shall never know?'

  'There are a lot of things you will never know. ''. ere

  are a lot of things you won't be allowed to ask. I '.' that question of yours I shall answer. A bare answe ';

  fact. If I am allowed to do so.'

  Again she looked at Lord Altamount.

  'I trust your judgment,' said Lord Altamount. 'Go at --' '

  'Give him the dope,' said the irreverent James I r'

  Mr Horsham said, 'I suppose you've got to know. / woi

  tell you, but then I'm Security. Go ahead, Mary Arm

  'One sentence. / was bringing a birth certificate. That s an. I don't tell you any more and it won't be any use ywr asking any more questions.'

  Stafford Nye looked round the assembly.

  'All right. I'll join. I'm flattered at your asking me. T 8 do we go from here?'

  'You and I,' said Renata, 'leave here tomorrow. ^ to the Continent. You may have read, or know, that

  a Musical Festival taking place in Bavaria. It is som ^ quite new which has only come into being in the la; ' ;

  years. It has a rather formidable German name meaning Company of Youthful Singers" and is supported t

  Governments of several different countries. It is in opposition

  to the traditional festivals and productions of Bayreuth. Much

  of the music given is modern--new young composers are

  given the chance of their compositions being heard. Whilst

  thought of highly by some, it is utterly repudiated and held in contempt by others.'

  'Yes,' said Sir Stafford, 'I have read about it. Are we

  going to attend it?'

  'We have seats booked for two of the performances.'

  'Has this festival any special significance in our investigation?

  '

  'No,' said Renata. 'It is more in the nature of what you

  might call an exit and entry convenience. We go there for

  an ostensible and true reason, and we leave it for our next

  step in due course.'

  He looked round. 'Instructions? Do I get any marching

  orders? Am I to be briefed?'

  'Not in your meaning of those terms. You are going

  on a voyage of exploration. You will learn things as you

  go along. You will go as yourself, knowing only what you

  know at present. You go as a lover of music, as a slightly

  disappointed diplomat who had perhaps hoped for some

  post in his own country which he has not been given. Otherwise,

  you will know nothing. It is safer so.'

  'But that is the sum of activities at present? Germany,

  Bavaria, Austria, the Tyrol--that part of the world?'

  'It is one of the centres of interest.'

  'It is not the only one?'

  'Indeed, not even the principal one. There are other" spots on the globe, all of varying importance and interest.

  How much importance each one holds is what we have to

  find out.'

  'And I don't know, or am not to be told, anything about

  these other centres?'

  'Only in cursory fashion. One of them, we think the roost important one, has its headquarters in South America,

  there are two with headquarters in the United States of

  America, one in California, the other in Baltimore. There

  is one in Sweden, there is one in Italy. Things have become ^ry active in the latter in the last six months. Portugal ^d Spain also have smaller centres. Paris, of course. There are further interesting spots just "coming into production",

  you might say. As yet not fully developed,'

  You mean Malaya, or Vietnam?'

  a. 5'

  R I? 83

  'No. No, all that lies rather in the past. It was a good

  rallying cry for violence and student indignation and foi

  many other things.

  'What is being promoted, you must understand, is the

  growing organization of you
th everywhere against their mode

  of government; against their parental customs, against very

  often the religions in which they have been brought up,

  There is the insidious cult of permissiveness, there is the

  increasing cult of violence. Violence not as a means of gaining

  money, but violence for the love of violence. That particularly

  is stressed, and the reasons for it are to the people

  concerned one of the most important things and of the

  utmost significance.'

  'Permissiveness, is that important?'

  'It is a way of life, no more. It lends itself to certain

  abuses but not unduly.'

  'What about drugs?'

  The cult of drugs has been deliberately advanced and

  fomented. Vast sums of money have been made that way,

  but it is not, or so we think, entirely activated for the money

  motive.'

  All of them looked at Mr Robinson, who slowly shook

  his head.

  'No,' he said, 'it looks that way. There are people who

  are being apprehended and brought to justice. Pushers of

  drugs will be followed up. But there is more than just the

  drug racket behind all this. The drug racket is a means,

  and an evil means, of making money. But there is more to

  it than that.'

  'But who--' Stafford Nye stopped.

  'Who and what and why and where? The four Was.

  That is your mission. Sir Stafford,' said Mr Robinson. 'That's

  what you've got to find out. You and Mary Arm. It won't

  be easy, and one of the hardest things in the world, remember,

  is to keep one's secrets.'

  Stafford Nye looked with interest at the fat yellov cace

  of Mr Robinson. Perhaps the secret of Mr Rob r.son's

  domination in the financial world was just that. His ;'icret was that he kept his secret. Mr Robinson's mouth s owed

  its smile again. The large teeth gleamed.

  'If you know a thing,' he said, 'it is always a great .eroptation

  to show that you know it; to talk about it, ii "^net words. It is not that you want to give informatiol, it is not that you have been offered payment to give'infon "on' It is that you want to show how important you ar ^ss) 84

  it's just as simple as that. In fact,' said Mr Robinson, and

  he half closed his eyes, 'everyttung in this world is so very, very simple. That's what people don't understand.'

  The Countess got to her feet and Stafford Nye followed

  her example.

  'I hope you will sleep well and be comfortable,' said

  Mr Robinson. This house is, I think, moderately comfortable.'

  Stafford Nye murmured that he was quite sure of that,

  and on that point he was shortly to be proved to have been

  quite right. He laid his head on the pillow and went to

  sleep immediately.

  85

  Chapter 10

  THE WOMAN IN THE SCHLOSS

  They came out of the Festival Youth Theatre to the refreshing

  night air. Below "them in a sweep of the ground, was a

  lighted restaurant. On the side of the hill was another, smaller

  one. The restaurants varied slightly in price though neither

  of them was inexpensive. Renata was in evening dress of

  black velvet. Sir Stafford Nye was in white tie and full

  evening dress.

  'A very distinguished audience,' murmured Stafford Nye

  to his companion. 'Plenty of money there. A young audience

  on the whole. You wouldn't think they could afford it.'

  'Oh! that can be seen to--it is seen to.'

  A subsidy for the 61ite of youth? That kind of thing?'

  'Yes.'

  They walked towards the restaurant on the high side of the hill.

  They give you an hour for the meal. Is that right?'

  Technically an hour. Actually an hour and a quarter.*

  That audience,' said Sir Stafford Nye, 'most of them,

  nearly all of them, I should say, are real lovers of music,'

  'Most of them, yes. It's important, you know.'

  'What do you mean--important?'

  That the enthusiasm should be genuine. At both ends of the scale,' she added.

  'What did you mean, exactly, by that?'

  Those who practise and organize violence must love

  violence, must want it, must yearn for it. The seal of ecstasy

  in every movement, of slashing, hurting, destroying. And

  the same thing with the music. The ears must appreciate

  every moment of the harmonies and beauties. There can

  be no pretending in this game.'

  'Can you double the roles--do you mean you can combine

  violence and a love of music or a love of art?'

  'It is not always easy, I think, but yes. There are many

  who can. It is safer really, if they don't have to combine

  r61es.'

  'It's better to keep it simple, as our fat friend Mr Robinson

  would say? Let the lovers of music love music, let the

  violent practitioners love violence. Is that what you mean?'

  I think so.'

  1 am enjoying this very much. The two days that we

  89

  have stayed here, the two nights of music that we have

  enjoyed. I have not enjoyed all the music because I am not

  perhaps sufficiently modern in my taste. I find the clothes

  very interesting.'

  'Are you talking of the stage production?'

  'No, no, I was talking of the audience, really. You and I, the squares, the old-fashioned. You, Countess, in your society

  gown, I in my white tie and tails. Not a comfortable getup,

  it never has been. And then the others, the silks and the velvets,

  the ruffled shirts of the men, real lace, I noticed, several times

  --and the plush and the hair and the luxury of avant garde, the luxury of the eighteen-hundreds or you might almost say of

  the Elizabethan age or of Van Dyck pictures.'

  'Yes, you are right.'

  Tm no nearer, though, to what it all means. I haven't learnt anything. I haven't found out anything.'

  'You mustn't be impatient. This is a rich show, supported,

  asked for, demanded perhaps by youth and provided by--'

  'By whom?'

  'We don't know yet. We shall know.'

  'I'm so glad you are sure of it.'

  They went into the restaurant and sat down. The food

  was good though not in any way ornate or luxurious. Once

  or twice they were spoken to by an acquaintance or a

  friend. Two people who recognized Sir Stafford Nye expressed

  pleasure and surprise at seeing him. Renata had a bigger

  circle of acquaintances since she knew more foreigners--

  well-dressed women, a man or two, mostly German or Austrian,

  Stafford Nye thought, one or two Americans. Just a

  few desultory words. Where people had come from or were

  going to. criticism or appreciation of the musical fare. Nobody

  wasted much time since the interval for eating had not been very long.

  They returned to their seats for the two final musical

  offerings. A Symphonic Poem, 'Disintegration in Joy', by at new young composer, Solukonov, and then the solemn

  grandeur of the March of the Meistersingers.

  They came out again into the night. The car which was

  at their disposal every day was waiting there to take them

  back to the small but exclusive hotel in the village street.

  Stafford Nye said good-night to Renata. She spoke to him in a lowered voice.<
br />
  'Four a.m.,' she said. 'Be ready.'

  She went straight into her room and shut the door and

  he went to his.

  90

  The faint scrape of fingers on his door came precisely at three minutes to four the next morning. He opened the

  door and stood ready.

  "The car is waiting,' she said. 'Come.'

  They lunched at a small mountain inn. The weather was

  good, the mountains beautiful. Occasionally Stafford Nye

  wondered what on earth he was doing here. He understood

  less and less of his travelling companion. She spoke little.

  He found himself watching her profile. Where was she taking

  him? What was her real reason? At last, as the sun was

  almost setting, he said:

  'Where are we going? Can I ask?'

  'You can ask, yes.'

  'But you do not reply?'

  'I could reply. I could tell you things, but would they

  mean anything? It seems to me that if you come to where

  we are going without my preparing you with explanations

  (which cannot in the nature of things mean anything), your

  first impressions will have more force and significance.'

  He looked at her again thoughtfully. She was wearing a

  tweed coat trimmed with fur, smart travelling clothes, foreign

  in make and cut.

  'Mary Arm,' he said thoughtfully.

  There was a faint question in it;

  'No,' she said, 'not at the moment.'

  'Ah. You are still the Countess Zerkowski.'

  'At the moment I am still the Countess Zerkowski.'

  'Are you in your own part of the world?'

  'More or less. I grew up as a child in this part of the

  world. For a good portion of each year we used to come

  here in the autumn to a Schloss not very many miles from

  here.'

  He smiled and said thoughtfully, 'What a nice word it is.

  A Schloss. So solid-sounding.'

  'Schlosser are not standing very solidly nowadays. They

  are mostly disintegrated.'

  This is Hitler's country, isn't it? We're not far, are we,

  from Berchtesgaden?'

  'It lies over there to the northeast.'

  'Did your relations, your friends--did they accept Hitler,

  believe in him? Perhaps I ought not to ask things like that.' '. 'They disliked him and all he stood for. But they said

  "Heil Hitler". They acquiesced in what had happened to

  91

  their country. What else could they do? What else could

  anybody do at that date?'

  'We are going towards the Dolomites, are we not?'-

  'Does it matter where we are, or which way we are

  going?'

  'Well, this is a voyage of exploration, is it not?'

  'Yes, but the exploration is not geographical. We are

  going to see a personality.'

  'You make me feel--' Stafford Nye looked up at the

  landscape of swelling mountains reaching up to the sky--

  *as though we were going to visit the famous Old Man of -'the Mountain.'

  The Master of the Assassins, you mean, who kept his followers

  under drugs so that they died for him wholeheartedly,

  so that they killed, knowing that they themselves would also

  be killed, but believing, too, that that would transfer them

  immediately to the Moslem Paradise--beautiful women, hashish

  and erotic dreams--perfect and unending happiness.'

  She paused a minute and then said:

  'Spell-binders! I suppose they've always been there throughout

  the ages. People who make you believe in them so that

  you are ready to die for them. Not only Assassins. The

  Christians died also.'

  'The holy Martyrs? Lord Altamount?'

  'Why do you say Lord Altamount?'

  1 saw him that way--suddenly--that evening. Carved in

  stone--in a thirteenth-century cathedral, perhaps.'

  'One of us may have to die. Perhaps more.'

  She stopped what he was about to say.

  There is another thing I think of sometimes. A verse in

  the New Testament--Luke, I think. Christ at the Last Supper

  saying to his followers: "You are my companions and my

  friends, yet one of you is a devil." So in all probability one

  of us is a devil.'

  'You think it possible?'

  'Almost certain. Someone we trust and know, but who

  goes to sleep at night, not dreaming of martyrdom but of

  thirty pieces of silver, and who wakes with the feel of them

  in the palm of his hand.'

  The love of money?'

  'Ambition covers it better. How does one recognize a

  devil? How would one fcnow? A devil Would stand out in a

  crowd, would be exciting--would advertise himself--would

  exercise leadership,'

  She was silent a moment and then said in a thoughtful

  voice:

  'I had a friend once in the Diplomatic Service who told

  me how she had said to a German woman how moved she

  herself had been at the performance of the Passion Play at