Passenger to Frankfurt

AgathaChristie
PassengertoFrankfurt
ToMargaretGuillaume
‘Leadership,besidesbeingagreatcreativeforce,canbediabolical…’JanSmutsContents
Epigraph
Introduction
Book1
InterruptedJourney
1PassengerToFrankfurt
2London
3TheManFromTheCleaners
4DinnerWithEric
5WagnerianMotif
6PortraitOfALady
7AdviceFromGreat-AuntMatilda
8AnEmbassyDinner
9TheHouseNearGodalming
Book2
JourneyToSiegfried
10TheWomanInTheSchloss
11TheYoungAndTheLovely
12CourtJester
Book3
AtHomeAndAbroad
13ConferenceInParis
14ConferenceInLondon
15AuntMatildaTakesACure
16PikeawayTalks
17HerrHeinrichSpiess
18Pikeaway’sPostscript
19SirStaffordNyeHasVisitors
20TheAdmiralVisitsAnOldFriend
21ProjectBenvo
22Juanita
23JourneyToScotland
EpilogueAbouttheAuthorOtherBooksbyAgathaChristieCreditsCopyrightAboutthePublisherIntroduction
TheAuthorspeaks:
Thefirstquestionputtoanauthor,personally,orthroughthepost,is:
‘Wheredoyougetyourideasfrom?’
Thetemptationisgreattoreply:‘IalwaysgotoHarrods,’or‘IgetthemmostlyattheArmy&NavyStores,’or,snappily,‘TryMarksandSpencer.’
Theuniversalopinionseemsfirmlyestablishedthatthereisamagicsourceofideaswhichauthorshavediscoveredhowtotap.
Onecanhardlysendone’squestionersbacktoElizabethantimes,withShakespeare’s:
Tellme,whereisfancybred,Orintheheartorinthehead?Howbegot,hownourished?Reply,reply.
Youmerelysayfirmly:‘Myownhead.’
That,ofcourse,isnohelptoanybody.Ifyoulikethelookofyourquestioneryourelentandgoalittlefurther.
‘Ifoneideainparticularseemsattractive,andyoufeelyoucoulddosomethingwithit,thenyoutossitaround,playtrickswithit,workitup,toneitdown,andgraduallygetitintoshape.Then,ofcourse,youhavetostartwritingit.That’snotnearlysuchfun–itbecomeshardwork.Alternatively,youcantuckitcarefullyaway,instorage,forperhapsusinginayearortwoyears’time.’
Asecondquestion–orratherastatement–isthenlikelytobe:
‘Isupposeyoutakemostofyourcharactersfromreallife?’
Anindignantdenialtothatmonstroussuggestion.
‘No,Idon’t.Iinventthem.Theyaremine.They’vegottobemycharacters–doingwhatIwantthemtodo,beingwhatIwantthemtobe–comingaliveforme,havingtheirownideassometimes,butonlybecauseI’vemadethembecomereal.’
Sotheauthorhasproducedtheideas,andthecharacters–butnowcomesthethirdnecessity–thesetting.Thefirsttwocomefrominsidesources,butthethirdisoutside–itmustbethere–waiting–inexistencealready.Youdon’tinventthat–it’sthere–it’sreal.
YouhavebeenperhapsforacruiseontheNile–yourememberitall–justthesettingyouwantforthisparticularstory.YouhavehadamealataChelseacafé.Aquarrelwasgoingon–onegirlpulledoutahandfulofanothergirl’shair.Anexcellentstartforthebookyouaregoingtowritenext.YoutravelontheOrientExpress.Whatfuntomakeitthesceneforaplotyouareconsidering.Yougototeawithafriend.Asyouarriveherbrotherclosesabookheisreading–throwsitaside,says:‘Notbad,butwhyonearthdidn’ttheyaskEvans?’
Soyoudecideimmediatelyabookofyoursshortlytobewrittenwillbearthetitle,WhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?
Youdon’tknowyetwhoEvansisgoingtobe.Nevermind.Evanswillcomeinduecourse–thetitleisfixed.
So,inasense,youdon’tinventyoursettings.Theyareoutsideyou,allaroundyou,inexistence–youhaveonlytostretchoutyourhandandpickandchoose.Arailwaytrain,ahospital,aLondonhotel,aCaribbeanbeach,acountryvillage,acocktailparty,agirls’school.
Butonethingonlyapplies–theymustbethere–inexistence.Realpeople,realplaces.Adefiniteplaceintimeandspace.Ifhereandnow–howshallyougetfullinformation–apartfromtheevidenceofyourowneyesandears?Theanswerisfrighteninglysimple.
ItiswhatthePressbringstoyoueveryday,servedupinyourmorningpaperunderthegeneralheadingofNews.Collectitfromthefrontpage.Whatisgoingonintheworldtoday?Whatiseveryonesaying,thinking,doing?Holdupamirrorto1970inEngland.
Lookatthatfrontpageeverydayforamonth,makenotes,considerandclassify.
Everydaythereisakilling.
Agirlstrangled.
Elderlywomanattackedandrobbedofhermeagresavings.
Youngmenorboys–attackingorattacked.
Buildingsandtelephonekioskssmashedandgutted.
Drugsmuggling.
Robberyandassault.
Childrenmissingandchildren’smurderedbodiesfoundnotfarfromtheirhomes.
CanthisbeEngland?IsEnglandreallylikethis?Onefeels–no–notyet,butitcouldbe.
Fearisawakening–fearofwhatmaybe.Notsomuchbecauseofactualhappeningsbutbecauseofthepossiblecausesbehindthem.Someknown,someunknown,butfelt.Andnotonlyinourowncountry.Therearesmallerparagraphsonotherpages–givingnewsfromEurope–fromAsia–fromtheAmericas–WorldwideNews.
Hi-jackingofplanes.
Kidnapping.
Violence.
Riots.
Hate.
Anarchy–allgrowingstronger.
Allseemingtoleadtoworshipofdestruction,pleasureincruelty.
Whatdoesitallmean?AnElizabethanphraseechoesfromthepast,speakingofLife:
…itisataleToldbyanidiot,fullofsoundandfury,Signifyingnothing.
Andyetoneknows–ofone’sownknowledge–howmuchgoodnessthereisinthisworldofours–thekindnessesdone,thegoodnessofheart,theactsofcompassion,thekindnessofneighbourtoneighbour,thehelpfulactionsofgirlsandboys.
Thenwhythisfantasticatmosphereofdailynews–ofthingsthathappen–thatareactualfacts?
TowriteastoryinthisyearofOurLord1970–youmustcometotermswithyourbackground.Ifthebackgroundisfantastic,thenthestorymustacceptitsbackground.It,too,mustbeafantasy–anextravaganza.Thesettingmustincludethefantasticfactsofdailylife.
Canoneenvisageafantasticcause?AsecretCampaignforPower?Canamaniacaldesirefordestructioncreateanewworld?Canonegoastepfurtherandsuggestdeliverancebyfantasticandimpossible-soundingmeans?
Nothingisimpossible,sciencehastaughtusthat.
Thisstoryisinessenceafantasy.Itpretendstobenothingmore.
Butmostofthethingsthathappeninitarehappening,orgivingpromiseofhappeningintheworldoftoday.
Itisnotanimpossiblestory–itisonlyafantasticone.
Book1
InterruptedJourney
Chapter1
PassengerToFrankfurt
I
‘Fastenyourseat-belts,please.’Thediversepassengersintheplanewereslowtoobey.Therewasageneralfeelingthattheycouldn’tpossiblybearrivingatGenevayet.Thedrowsygroanedandyawned.Themorethandrowsyhadtobegentlyrousedbyanauthoritativestewardess.
‘Yourseat-belts,please.’
ThedryvoicecameauthoritativelyovertheTannoy.ItexplainedinGerman,inFrench,andinEnglishthatashortperiodofroughweatherwouldshortlybeexperienced.SirStaffordNyeopenedhismouthtoitsfullextent,yawnedandpulledhimselfuprightinhisseat.HehadbeendreamingveryhappilyoffishinganEnglishriver.
Hewasamanofforty-five,ofmediumheight,withasmooth,olive,clean-shavenface.Indressheratherlikedtoaffectthebizarre.Amanofexcellentfamily,hefeltfullyateaseindulginganysuchsartorialwhims.Ifitmadethemoreconventionallydressedofhiscolleagueswinceoccasionally,thatwasmerelyasourceofmaliciouspleasuretohim.Therewassomethingabouthimoftheeighteenth-centurybuck.Helikedtobenoticed.
Hisparticularkindofaffectationwhentravellingwasakindofbandit’scloakwhichhehadoncepurchasedinCorsica.Itwasofaverydarkpurply-blue,hadascarletliningandhadakindofburnoushangingdownbehindwhichhecoulddrawupoverhisheadwhenhewishedto,soastoobviatedraughts.
SirStaffordNyehadbeenadisappointmentindiplomaticcircles.Markedoutinearlyyouthbyhisgiftsforgreatthings,hehadsingularlyfailedtofulfilhisearlypromise.Apeculiaranddiabolicalsenseofhumourwaswonttoafflicthiminwhatshouldhavebeenhismostseriousmoments.Whenitcametothepoint,hefoundthathealwayspreferredtoindulgehisdelicatePuckishmalicetoboringhimself.Hewasawell-knownfigureinpubliclifewithouteverhavingreachedeminence.ItwasfeltthatStaffordNye,thoughdefinitelybrilliant,wasnot–andpresumablyneverwouldbe–asafeman.Inthesedaysoftangledpoliticsandtangledforeignrelations,safety,especiallyifoneweretoreachambassadorialrank,waspreferabletobrilliance.SirStaffordNyewasrelegatedtotheshelf,thoughhewasoccasionallyentrustedwithsuchmissionsasneededtheartofintrigue,butwerenotoftooimportantorpublicanature.Journalistssometimesreferredtohimasthedarkhorseofdiplomacy.
WhetherSirStaffordhimselfwasdisappointedwithhisowncareer,nobodyeverknew.ProbablynotevenSirStaffordhimself.Hewasamanofacertainvanity,buthewasalsoamanwhoverymuchenjoyedindulginghisownproclivitiesformischief.
HewasreturningnowfromacommissionofinquiryinMalaya.Hehadfounditsingularlylackingininterest.Hiscolleagueshad,inhisopinion,madeuptheirmindsbeforehandwhattheirfindingsweregoingtobe.Theysawandtheylistened,buttheirpreconceivedviewswerenotaffected.SirStaffordhadthrownafewspannersintotheworks,moreforthehellofitthanfromanypronouncedconvictions.Atallevents,hethought,ithadlivenedthingsup.Hewishedthereweremorepossibilitiesofdoingthatsortofthing.Hisfellowmembersofthecommissionhadbeensound,dependablefellows,andremarkablydull.Eventhewell-knownMrsNathanielEdge,theonlywomanmember,wellknownashavingbeesinherbonnet,wasnofoolwhenitcamedowntoplainfacts.Shesaw,shelistenedandsheplayedsafe.
HehadmetherbeforeontheoccasionofaproblemtobesolvedinoneoftheBalkancapitals.ItwastherethatSirStaffordNyehadnotbeenabletorefrainfromembarkingonafewinterestingsuggestions.Inthatscandal-lovingperiodicalInsideNewsitwasinsinuatedthatSirStaffordNye’spresenceinthatBalkancapitalwasintimatelyconnectedwithBalkanproblems,andthathismissionwasasecretoneofthegreatestdelicacy.AkindoffriendhadsentSirStaffordacopyofthiswiththerelevantpassagemarked.SirStaffordwasnottakenaback.Hereaditwithadelightedgrin.Itamusedhimverymuchtoreflecthowludicrouslyfarfromthetruththejournalistswereonthisoccasion.HispresenceinSofiagradhadbeendueentirelytoablamelessinterestintherarerwildflowersandtotheurgenciesofanelderlyfriendofhis,LadyLucyCleghorn,whowasindefatigableinherquestfortheseshyfloralrarities,andwhoatanymomentwouldscalearockclifforleapjoyouslyintoabogatthesightofsomeflowerlet,thelengthofwhoseLatinnamewasininverseproportiontoitssize.
AsmallbandofenthusiastshadbeenpursuingthisbotanicalsearchontheslopesofmountainsforabouttendayswhenitoccurredtoSirStaffordthatitwasapitytheparagraphwasnottrue.Hewasalittle–justalittle–tiredofwildflowersand,fondashewasofdearLucy,herabilitydespitehersixty-oddyearstoraceuphillsattopspeed,easilyoutpacinghim,sometimesannoyedhim.AlwaysjustinfrontofhimhesawtheseatofthosebrightroyalbluetrousersandLucy,thoughscraggyenoughelsewhere,goodnessknows,wasdecidedlytoobroadinthebeamtowearroyalbluecorduroytrousers.Anicelittleinternationalpie,hehadthought,inwhichtodiphisfingers,inwhichtoplayabout…
IntheaeroplanethemetallicTannoyvoicespokeagain.IttoldthepassengersthatowingtoheavyfogatGeneva,theplanewouldbedivertedtoFrankfurtairportandproceedfromtheretoLondon.PassengerstoGenevawouldbere-routedfromFrankfurtassoonaspossible.ItmadenodifferencetoSirStaffordNye.IftherewasfoginLondon,hesupposedtheywouldre-routetheplanetoPrestwick.Hehopedthatwouldnothappen.HehadbeentoPrestwickonceortwicetoooften.Life,hethought,andjourneysbyair,werereallyexcessivelyboring.Ifonly–hedidn’tknow–ifonly–what?
II
ItwaswarmintheTransitPassengerLoungeatFrankfurt,soSirStaffordNyeslippedbackhiscloak,allowingitscrimsonliningtodrapeitselfspectacularlyroundhisshoulders.Hewasdrinkingaglassofbeerandlisteningwithhalfaneartothevariousannouncementsastheyweremade.
‘Flight4387.FlyingtoMoscow.Flight2381boundforEgyptandCalcutta.’
Journeysallovertheglobe.Howromanticitoughttobe.ButtherewassomethingabouttheatmosphereofaPassengers’Loungeinanairportthatchilledromance.Itwastoofullofpeople,toofullofthingstobuy,toofullofsimilarlycolouredseats,toofullofplastic,toofullofhumanbeings,toofullofcryingchildren.Hetriedtorememberwhohadsaid:
IwishIlovedtheHumanRace;IwishIloveditssillyface.
Chestertonperhaps?Itwasundoubtedlytrue.Putenoughpeopletogetherandtheylookedsopainfullyalikethatonecouldhardlybearit.Aninterestingfacenow,thoughtSirStafford.Whatadifferenceitwouldmake.Helookeddisparaginglyattwoyoungwomen,splendidlymadeup,dressedinthenationaluniformoftheircountry–Englandhepresumed–ofshorterandshorterminiskirts,andanotheryoungwoman,evenbettermadeup–infactquitegood-looking–whowaswearingwhathebelievedtobecalledaculottesuit.Shehadgonealittlefurtheralongtheroadoffashion.
Hewasn’tveryinterestedinnice-lookinggirlswholookedlikealltheothernice-lookinggirls.Hewouldlikesomeonetobedifferent.Someonesatdownbesidehimontheplastic-coveredartificialleathersetteeonwhichhewassitting.Herfaceattractedhisattentionatonce.Notpreciselybecauseitwasdifferent,infacthealmostseemedtorecognizeitasafaceheknew.Herewassomeonehehadseenbefore.Hecouldn’trememberwhereorwhenbutitwascertainlyfamiliar.Twenty-fiveorsix,hethought,possibly,astoage.Adelicatehigh-bridgedaquilinenose,ablackheavybushofhairreachingtohershoulders.Shehadamagazineinfrontofherbutshewasnotpayingattentiontoit.Shewas,infact,lookingwithsomethingthatwasalmosteagernessathim.Quitesuddenlyshespoke.Itwasadeepcontraltovoice,almostasdeepasaman’s.Ithadaveryfaintforeignaccent.Shesaid,
‘CanIspeaktoyou?’
Hestudiedherforamomentbeforereplying.No–notwhatonemighthavethought–thiswasn’tapick-up.Thiswassomethingelse.
‘Iseenoreason,’hesaid,‘whyyoushouldnotdoso.Wehavetimetowastehere,itseems.’
‘Fog,’saidthewoman,‘foginGeneva,foginLondon,perhaps.Fogeverywhere.Idon’tknowwhattodo.’
‘Oh,youmustn’tworry,’hesaidreassuringly,‘they’lllandyousomewhereallright.They’requiteefficient,youknow.Whereareyougoing?’
‘IwasgoingtoGeneva.’
‘Well,Iexpectyou’llgetthereintheend.’
‘Ihavetogettherenow.IfIcangettoGeneva,itwillbeallright.Thereissomeonewhowillmeetmethere.Icanbesafe.’
‘Safe?’Hesmiledalittle.
Shesaid,‘Safeisafour-letterwordbutnotthekindoffour-letterwordthatpeopleareinterestedinnowadays.Andyetitcanmeanalot.Itmeansalottome.’Thenshesaid,‘Yousee,ifIcan’tgettoGeneva,ifIhavetoleavethisplanehere,orgooninthisplanetoLondonwithnoarrangementsmade,Ishallbekilled.’Shelookedathimsharply.‘Isupposeyoudon’tbelievethat.’
‘I’mafraidIdon’t.’
‘It’squitetrue.Peoplecanbe.Theyare,everyday.’
‘Whowantstokillyou?’
‘Doesitmatter?’
‘Nottome.’
‘Youcanbelievemeifyouwishtobelieveme.Iamspeakingthetruth.Iwanthelp.HelptogettoLondonsafely.’
‘Andwhyshouldyouselectmetohelpyou?’
‘BecauseIthinkthatyouknowsomethingaboutdeath.Youhaveknownofdeath,perhapsseendeathhappen.’
Helookedsharplyatherandthenawayagain.
‘Anyotherreason?’hesaid.
‘Yes.This.’Shestretchedouthernarrowolive-skinnedhandandtouchedthefoldsofthevoluminouscloak.‘This,’shesaid.
Forthefirsttimehisinterestwasaroused.
‘Nowwhatdoyoumeanbythat?’
‘It’sunusual–characteristic.It’snotwhateveryonewears.’
‘Trueenough.It’soneofmyaffectations,shallwesay?’
‘It’sanaffectationthatcouldbeusefultome.’
‘Whatdoyoumean?’
‘Iamaskingyousomething.ProbablyyouwillrefusebutyoumightnotrefusebecauseIthinkyouareamanwhoisreadytotakerisks.JustasIamawomanwhotakesrisks.’
‘I’lllistentoyourproject,’hesaid,withafaintsmile.
‘Iwantyourcloaktowear.Iwantyourpassport.Iwantyourboardingticketfortheplane.Presently,intwentyminutesorso,say,theflightforLondonwillbecalled.Ishallhaveyourpassport,Ishallwearyourcloak.AndsoIshalltraveltoLondonandarrivesafely.’
‘Youmeanyou’llpassyourselfoffasme?Mydeargirl.’
Sheopenedahandbag.Fromitshetookasmallsquaremirror.
‘Lookthere,’shesaid.‘Lookatmeandthenlookatyourownface.’
Hesawthen,sawwhathadbeenvaguelynaggingathismind.Hissister,Pamela,whohaddiedabouttwentyyearsago.Theyhadalwaysbeenveryalike,heandPamela.Astrongfamilyresemblance.Shehadhadaslightlymasculinetypeofface.Hisface,perhaps,hadbeen,certainlyinearlylife,ofaslightlyeffeminatetype.Theyhadbothhadthehigh-bridgednose,thetiltofeyebrows,theslightlysidewayssmileofthelips.Pamelahadbeentall,fivefooteight,hehimselffivefootten.Helookedatthewomanwhohadtenderedhimthemirror.
‘Thereisafaciallikenessbetweenus,that’swhatyoumean,isn’tit?Butmydeargirl,itwouldn’tdeceiveanyonewhoknewmeorknewyou.’
‘Ofcourseitwouldn’t.Don’tyouunderstand?Itdoesn’tneedto.Iamtravellingwearingslacks.Youhavebeentravellingwiththehoodofyourcloakdrawnuproundyourface.AllIhavetodoistocutoffmyhair,wrapitupinatwistofnewspaper,throwitinoneofthelitter-basketshere.ThenIputonyourburnous,Ihaveyourboardingcard,ticket,andpassport.Unlessthereissomeonewhoknowsyouwellonthisplane,andIpresumethereisnotortheywouldhavespokentoyoualready,thenIcansafelytravelasyou.Showingyourpassportwhenit’snecessary,keepingtheburnousandcloakdrawnupsothatmynoseandeyesandmouthareaboutallthatareseen.IcanwalkoutsafelywhentheplanereachesitsdestinationbecausenoonewillknowIhavetravelledbyit.WalkoutsafelyanddisappearintothecrowdsofthecityofLondon.’
‘AndwhatdoIdo?’askedSirStafford,withaslightsmile.
‘Icanmakeasuggestionifyouhavethenervetofaceit.’
‘Suggest,’hesaid.‘Ialwaysliketohearsuggestions.’
‘Yougetupfromhere,yougoawayandbuyamagazineoranewspaper,oragiftatthegiftcounter.Youleaveyourcloakhanginghereontheseat.Whenyoucomebackwithwhateveritis,yousitdownsomewhereelse–sayattheendofthatbenchoppositehere.Therewillbeaglassinfrontofyou,thisglassstill.Inittherewillbesomethingthatwillsendyoutosleep.Sleepinaquietcorner.’
‘Whathappensnext?’
‘Youwillhavebeenpresumablythevictimofarobbery,’shesaid.‘Somebodywillhaveaddedafewknock-outdropstoyourdrink,andwillhavestolenyourwalletfromyou.Somethingofthatkind.Youdeclareyouridentity,saythatyourpassportandthingsarestolen.Youcaneasilyestablishyouridentity.’
‘YouknowwhoIam?Myname,Imean?’
‘Notyet,’shesaid.‘Ihaven’tseenyourpassportyet.I’venoideawhoyouare.’
‘AndyetyousayIcanestablishmyidentityeasily.’
‘Iamagoodjudgeofpeople.Iknowwhoisimportantorwhoisn’t.Youareanimportantperson.’
‘AndwhyshouldIdoallthis?’
‘Perhapstosavethelifeofafellowhumanbeing.’
‘Isn’tthatratherahighlycolouredstory?’
‘Ohyes.Quiteeasilynotbelieved.Doyoubelieveit?’
Helookedatherthoughtfully.‘Youknowwhatyou’retalkinglike?Abeautifulspyinathriller.’
‘Yes,perhaps.ButIamnotbeautiful.’
‘Andyou’renotaspy?’
‘Imightbesodescribed,perhaps.Ihavecertaininformation.InformationIwanttopreserve.Youwillhavetotakemywordforit,itisinformationthatwouldbevaluabletoyourcountry.’
‘Don’tyouthinkyou’rebeingratherabsurd?’
‘YesIdo.Ifthiswaswrittendownitwouldlookabsurd.Butsomanyabsurdthingsaretrue,aren’tthey?’
Helookedatheragain.ShewasverylikePamela.Hervoice,althoughforeigninintonation,waslikePamela’s.Whatsheproposedwasridiculous,absurd,quiteimpossible,andprobablydangerous.Dangeroustohim.Unfortunately,though,thatwaswhatattractedhim.Tohavethenervetosuggestsuchathingtohim!Whatwouldcomeofitall?Itwouldbeinteresting,certainly,tofindout.
‘WhatdoIgetoutofit?’hesaid.‘That’swhatI’dliketoknow.’
Shelookedathimconsideringly.‘Diversion,’shesaid.‘Somethingoutoftheeverydayhappenings?Anantidotetoboredom,perhaps.We’venotgotverylong.It’suptoyou.’
‘Andwhathappenstoyourpassport?DoIhavetobuymyselfawig,iftheysellsuchathing,atthecounter?DoIhavetoimpersonateafemale?’
‘No.There’snoquestionofexchangingplaces.Youhavebeenrobbedanddruggedbutyouremainyourself.Makeupyourmind.Thereisn’tlong.Timeispassingveryquickly.Ihavetodomyowntransformation.’
‘Youwin,’hesaid.‘Onemustn’trefusetheunusual,ifitisofferedtoone.’
‘Ihopedyoumightfeelthatway,butitwasatoss-up.’
FromhispocketStaffordNyetookouthispassport.Heslippeditintotheouterpocketofthecloakhehadbeenwearing.Herosetohisfeet,yawned,lookedroundhim,lookedathiswatch,andstrolledovertothecounterwherevariousgoodsweredisplayedforsale.Hedidnotevenlookback.Heboughtapaperbackbookandfingeredsomesmallwoollyanimals,asuitablegiftforsomechild.Finallyhechoseapanda.Helookedroundthelounge,camebacktowherehehadbeensitting.Thecloakwasgoneandsohadthegirl.Ahalfglassofbeerwasonthetablestill.Here,hethought,iswhereItaketherisk.Hepickeduptheglass,movedawayalittle,anddrankit.Notquickly.Quiteslowly.Ittastedmuchthesameasithadtastedbefore.
‘NowIwonder,’saidSirStafford.‘NowIwonder.’
Hewalkedacrosstheloungetoafarcorner.Therewasasomewhatnoisyfamilysittingthere,laughingandtalkingtogether.Hesatdownnearthem,yawned,lethisheadfallbackontheedgeofthecushion.AflightwasannouncedleavingforTeheran.Alargenumberofpassengersgotupandwenttoqueuebytherequisitenumberedgate.Theloungestillremainedhalffull.Heopenedhispaperbackbook.Heyawnedagain.Hewasreallysleepynow,yes,hewasverysleepy…Hemustjustthinkoutwhereitwasbestforhimtogoofftosleep.Somewherehecouldremain…
Trans-EuropeanAirwaysannouncedthedepartureoftheirplane,Flight309forLondon.
III
Quiteagoodsprinklingofpassengersrosetotheirfeettoobeythesummons.Bythistimethough,morepassengershadenteredthetransitloungewaitingforotherplanes.AnnouncementsfollowedastofogatGenevaandotherdisabilitiesoftravel.Aslimmanofmiddleheightwearingadarkbluecloakwithitsredliningshowingandwithahooddrawnupoveraclose-croppedhead,notnoticeablymoreuntidythanmanyoftheheadsofyoungmennowadays,walkedacrossthefloortotakehisplaceinthequeuefortheplane.Showingaboardingticket,hepassedoutthroughgateNo.9.
Moreannouncementsfollowed.SwissairflyingtoZürich.BEAtoAthensandCyprus–andthenadifferenttypeofannouncement.
‘WillMissDaphneTheodofanous,passengertoGeneva,kindlycometotheflightdesk.PlanetoGenevaisdelayedowingtofog.PassengerswilltravelbywayofAthens.Theaeroplaneisnowreadytoleave.’
OtherannouncementsfolloweddealingwithpassengerstoJapan,toEgypt,toSouthAfrica,airlinesspanningtheworld.MrSidneyCook,passengertoSouthAfrica,wasurgedtocometotheflightdeskwheretherewasamessageforhim.DaphneTheodofanouswascalledforagain.
‘ThisisthelastcallbeforethedepartureofFlight309.’
Inacorneroftheloungealittlegirlwaslookingupatamaninadarksuitwhowasfastasleep,hisheadrestingagainstthecushionoftheredsettee.Inhishandheheldasmallwoollypanda.
Thelittlegirl’shandstretchedouttowardsthepanda.Hermothersaid:
‘Now,Joan,don’ttouchthat.Thepoorgentleman’sasleep.’
‘Whereishegoing?’
‘Perhapshe’sgoingtoAustraliatoo,’saidhermother,‘likeweare.’
‘Hashegotalittlegirllikeme?’
‘Ithinkhemusthave,’saidhermother.
Thelittlegirlsighedandlookedatthepandaagain.SirStaffordNyecontinuedtosleep.Hewasdreamingthathewastryingtoshootaleopard.Averydangerousanimal,hewassayingtothesafariguidewhowasaccompanyinghim.‘Averydangerousanimal,soI’vealwaysheard.Youcan’ttrustaleopard.’
Thedreamswitchedatthatmoment,asdreamshaveahabitofdoing,andhewashavingteawithhisGreat-AuntMatilda,andtryingtomakeherhear.Shewasdeaferthanever!HehadnotheardanyoftheannouncementsexceptthefirstoneforMissDaphneTheodofanous.Thelittlegirl’smothersaid:
‘I’vealwayswondered,youknow,aboutapassengerthat’smissing.Nearlyalways,wheneveryougoanywherebyair,youhearit.Somebodytheycan’tfind.Somebodywhohasn’theardthecallorisn’tontheplaneorsomethinglikethat.Ialwayswonderwhoitisandwhatthey’redoing,andwhytheyhaven’tcome.IsupposethisMissWhat’s-a-nameorwhateveritiswilljusthavemissedherplane.Whatwilltheydowithherthen?’
Nobodywasabletoanswerherquestionbecausenobodyhadtheproperinformation.
Chapter2
London
SirStaffordNye’sflatwasaverypleasantone.ItlookedoutuponGreenPark.Heswitchedonthecoffeepercolatorandwenttoseewhattheposthadlefthimthismorning.Itdidnotappeartohavelefthimanythingveryinteresting.Hesortedthroughtheletters,abillortwo,areceiptandletterswithratheruninterestingpostmarks.Heshuffledthemtogetherandplacedthemonthetablewheresomemailwasalreadylying,accumulatingfromthelasttwodays.He’dhavetogetdowntothingssoon,hesupposed.Hissecretarywouldbecominginsometimeorotherthisafternoon.
Hewentbacktothekitchen,pouredcoffeeintoacupandbroughtittothetable.Hepickedupthetwoorthreelettersthathehadopenedlatelastnightwhenhearrived.Oneofthemhereferredto,andsmiledalittleashereadit
‘Eleven-thirty,’hesaid.‘Quiteasuitabletime.Iwondernow.IexpectI’dbetterjustthinkthingsover,andgetpreparedforChetwynd.’
Somebodypushedsomethingthroughtheletter-box.Hewentoutintothehallandgotthemorningpaper.Therewasverylittlenewsinthepaper.Apoliticalcrisis,anitemofforeignnewswhichmighthavebeendisquieting,buthedidn’tthinkitwas.Itwasmerelyajournalistlettingoffsteamandtryingtomakethingsrathermoreimportantthantheywere.Mustgivethepeoplesomethingtoread.Agirlhadbeenstrangledinthepark.Girlswerealwaysbeingstrangled.Oneaday,hethoughtcallously.Nochildhadbeenkidnappedorrapedthismorning.Thatwasanicesurprise.Hemadehimselfapieceoftoastanddrankhiscoffee.
Later,hewentoutofthebuilding,downintothestreet,andwalkedthroughtheparkinthedirectionofWhitehall.Hewassmilingtohimself.Life,hefelt,wasrathergoodthismorning.HebegantothinkaboutChetwynd.Chetwyndwasasillyfoolifthereeverwasone.Agoodfa?ade,important-seeming,andanicelysuspiciousmind.He’dratherenjoytalkingtoChetwynd.
HereachedWhitehallacomfortablesevenminuteslate.ThatwasonlyduetohisownimportancecomparedwiththatofChetwynd,hethought.Hewalkedintotheroom.Chetwyndwassittingbehindhisdeskandhadalotofpapersonitandasecretarythere.Hewaslookingproperlyimportant,ashealwaysdidwhenhecouldmakeit.
‘Hullo,Nye,’saidChetwynd,smilingalloverhisimpressivelyhandsomeface.‘Gladtobeback?HowwasMalaya?’
‘Hot,’saidStaffordNye.
‘Yes.Well,Isupposeitalwaysis.Youmeantatmospherically,Isuppose,notpolitically?’
‘Oh,purelyatmospherically,’saidStaffordNye.
Heacceptedacigaretteandsatdown.
‘Getanyresultstospeakof?’
‘Oh,hardly.Notwhatyou’dcallresults.I’vesentinmyreport.Allalotoftalky-talkyasusual.How’sLazenby?’
‘Oh,anuisanceashealwaysis.He’llneverchange,’saidChetwynd.
‘No,thatwouldseemtoomuchtohopefor.Ihaven’tservedonanythingwithBascombebefore.Hecanbequitefunwhenhelikes.’
‘Canhe?Idon’tknowhimverywell.Yes.Isupposehecan.’
‘Well,well,well.Noothernews,Isuppose?’
‘No,nothing.NothingIthinkthatwouldinterestyou.’
‘Youdidn’tmentioninyourletterquitewhyyouwantedtoseeme.’
‘Oh,justtogooverafewthings,that’sall.Youknow,incaseyou’dbroughtanyspecialdopehomewithyou.Anythingweoughttobepreparedfor,youknow.QuestionsintheHouse.Anythinglikethat.’
‘Yes,ofcourse.’
‘Camehomebyair,didn’tyou?Hadabitoftrouble,Igather.’
StaffordNyeputonthefacehehadbeendeterminedtoputonbeforehand.Itwasslightlyrueful,withafainttingeofannoyance.
‘Oh,soyouheardaboutthat,didyou?’hesaid.‘Sillybusiness.’
‘Yes.Yes,musthavebeen.’
‘Extraordinary,’saidStaffordNye,‘howthingsalwaysgetintothepress.Therewasaparagraphinthestoppressthismorning.’
‘You’drathertheywouldn’thave,Isuppose?’
‘Well,makesmelookabitofanass,doesn’tit?’saidStaffordNye.‘Gottoadmitit.Atmyagetoo!’
‘Whathappenedexactly?Iwonderedifthereportinthepaperhadbeenexaggerating.’
‘Well,Isupposetheymadethemostofit,that’sall.Youknowwhatthesejourneysare.Damnboring.TherewasfogatGenevasotheyhadtore-routetheplane.Thentherewastwohours’delayatFrankfurt.’
‘Isthatwhenithappened?’
‘Yes.One’sboredstiffintheseairports.Planescoming,planesgoing.Tannoygoingfullsteamahead.Flight302leavingforHongKong,Flight109goingtoIreland.This,thatandtheother.Peoplegettingup,peopleleaving.Andyoujustsitthereyawning.’
‘Whathappenedexactly?’saidChetwynd.
‘Well,I’dgotadrinkinfrontofme,Pilsnerasamatteroffact,thenIthoughtI’dgottogetsomethingelsetoread.I’dreadeverythingI’dgotwithmesoIwentovertothecounterandboughtsomewretchedpaperbackorother.Detectivestory,Ithinkitwas,andIboughtawoollyanimalforoneofmynieces.ThenIcameback,finishedmydrink,openedmypaperbackandthenIwenttosleep.’
‘Yes,Isee.Youwenttosleep.’
‘Well,averynaturalthingtodo,isn’tit?IsupposetheycalledmyflightbutiftheydidIdidn’thearit.Ididn’thearitapparentlyforthebestofreasons.I’mcapableofgoingtosleepinanairportanytimebutI’malsocapableofhearinganannouncementthatconcernsme.ThistimeIdidn’t.WhenIwokeup,orcameto,howeveryouliketoputit,Iwashavingabitofmedicalattention.SomebodyapparentlyhaddroppedaMickeyFinnorsomethingorotherinmydrink.MusthavedoneitwhenIwasawaygettingthepaperback.’
‘Ratheranextraordinarythingstohappen,wasn’tit?’saidChetwynd.
‘Well,it’sneverhappenedtomebefore,’saidStaffordNye.‘Ihopeitneverwillagain.Itmakesyoufeelanawfulfool,youknow.Besideshavingahangover.Therewasadoctorandsomenursecreature,orsomething.Anyway,therewasnogreatharmdoneapparently.Mywallethadbeenpinchedwithsomemoneyinitandmypassport.Itwasawkwardofcourse.Fortunately,Ihadn’tgotmuchmoney.Mytravellers’chequeswereinaninnerpocket.Therealwayshastobeabitofredtapeandallthatifyouloseyourpassport.Anyway,Ihadlettersandthingsandidentificationwasnotdifficult.AndinduecoursethingsweresquaredupandIresumedmyflight.’
‘Still,veryannoyingforyou,’saidChetwynd.‘Apersonofyourstatus,Imean.’Histonewasdisapproving.
‘Yes,’saidStaffordNye.‘Itdoesn’tshowmeinaverygoodlight,doesit?Imean,notasbrightasafellowofmy–er–statusoughttobe.’Theideaseemedtoamusehim.
‘Doesthisoftenhappen,didyoufindout?’
‘Idon’tthinkit’samatterofgeneraloccurrence.Itcouldbe.Isupposeanypersonwithapick-pockettrendcouldnoticeafellowasleepandslipahandintoapocket,andifhe’saccomplishedinhisprofession,getholdofawalletorapocket-bookorsomethinglikethat,andhopeforsomeluck.’
‘Prettyawkwardtoloseapassport.’
‘Yes,Ishallhavetoputinforanotheronenow.Makealotofexplanations,Isuppose.AsIsay,thewholething’sadamnsillybusiness.Andlet’sfaceit,Chetwynd,itdoesn’tshowmeinaveryfavourablelight,doesit?’
‘Oh,notyourfault,mydearboy,notyourfault.Itcouldhappentoanybody,anybodyatall.’
‘Veryniceofyoutosayso,’saidStaffordNye,smilingathimagreeably.‘Teachmeasharplesson,won’tit?’
‘Youdon’tthinkanyonewantedyourpassportspecially?’
‘Ishouldn’tthinkso,’saidStaffordNye.‘Whyshouldtheywantmypassport.Unlessitwasamatterofsomeonewhowishedtoannoymeandthathardlyseemslikely.Orsomebodywhotookafancytomypassportphoto–andthatseemsevenlesslikely!’
‘Didyouseeanyoneyouknewatthis–wheredidyousayyouwere–Frankfurt?’
‘No,no.Nobodyatall.’
‘Talktoanyone?’
‘Notparticularly.Saidsomethingtoanicefatwomanwho’dgotasmallchildshewastryingtoamuse.CamefromWigan,Ithink.GoingtoAustralia.Don’trememberanybodyelse.’
‘You’resure?’
‘TherewassomewomanorotherwhowantedtoknowwhatshedidifshewantedtostudyarchaeologyinEgypt.SaidIdidn’tknowanythingaboutthat.Itoldhershe’dbettergoandasktheBritishMuseum.AndIhadawordortwowithamanwhoIthinkwasananti-vivisectionist.Verypassionateaboutit.’
‘Onealwaysfeels,’saidChetwynd,‘thattheremightbesomethingbehindthingslikethis.’
‘Thingslikewhat?’
‘Well,thingslikewhathappenedtoyou.’
‘Idon’tseewhatcanbebehindthis,’saidSirStafford.‘Idaresayjournalistscouldmakeupsomestory,they’resocleveratthatsortofthing.Still,it’sasillybusiness.Forgoodness’sake,let’sforgetit.Isupposenowit’sbeenmentionedinthepress,allmyfriendswillstartaskingmeaboutit.How’soldLeyland?What’sheuptonowadays?Iheardoneortwothingsabouthimoutthere.Leylandalwaystalksabittoomuch.’
Thetwomentalkedamiableshopfortenminutesorso,thenSirStaffordgotupandwentout.
‘I’vegotalotofthingstodothismorning,’hesaid.‘Presentstobuyformyrelations.ThetroubleisthatifonegoestoMalaya,allone’srelationsexpectyoutobringexoticpresentstothem.I’llgoroundtoLiberty’s,Ithink.TheyhaveanicestockofEasterngoodsthere.’
Hewentoutcheerfully,noddingtoacoupleofmenheknewinthecorridoroutside.Afterhehadgone,Chetwyndspokethroughthetelephonetohissecretary.
‘AskColonelMunroifhecancometome.’
ColonelMunrocamein,bringinganothertallmiddle-agedmanwithhim.
‘Don’tknowwhetheryouknowHorsham,’hesaid,‘inSecurity.’
‘ThinkI’vemetyou,’saidChetwynd.
‘Nye’sjustleftyou,hasn’the?’saidColonelMunro.‘AnythinginthisstoryaboutFrankfurt?Anything,Imean,thatweoughttotakeanynoticeof?’
‘Doesn’tseemso,’saidChetwynd.‘He’sabitputoutaboutit.Thinksitmakeshimlookasillyass.Whichitdoes,ofcourse.’
ThemancalledHorshamnoddedhishead.‘That’sthewayhetakesit,isit?’
‘Well,hetriedtoputagoodfaceuponit,’saidChetwynd.
‘Allthesame,youknow,’saidHorsham,‘he’snotreallyasillyass,ishe?’
Chetwyndshruggedhisshoulders.‘Thesethingshappen,’hesaid.
‘Iknow,’saidColonelMunro,‘yes,yes,Iknow.Allthesame,well,I’vealwaysfeltinsomewaysthatNyeisabitunpredictable.Thatinsomeways,youknow,hemightn’tbereallysoundinhisviews.’
ThemancalledHorshamspoke.‘Nothingagainsthim,’hesaid.‘Nothingatallasfarasweknow.’
‘Oh,Ididn’tmeantherewas.Ididn’tmeanthatatall,’saidChetwynd.‘It’sjust–howshallIputit?–he’snotalwaysveryseriousaboutthings.’
MrHorshamhadamoustache.Hefounditusefultohaveamoustache.Itconcealedmomentswhenhefounditdifficulttoavoidsmiling.
‘He’snotastupidman,’saidMunro.‘Gotbrains,youknow.Youdon’tthinkthat–well,Imeanyoudon’tthinktherecouldbeanythingatalldoubtfulaboutthis?’
‘Onhispart?Itdoesn’tseemso.’
‘You’vebeenintoitall,Horsham?’
‘Well,wehaven’thadverymuchtimeyet.Butasfarasitgoesit’sallright.Buthispassportwasused.’
‘Used?Inwhatway?’
‘ItpassedthroughHeathrow.’
‘YoumeansomeonerepresentedhimselfasSirStaffordNye?’
‘No,no,’saidHorsham,‘notinsomanywords.Wecouldhardlyhopeforthat.Itwentthroughwithotherpassports.Therewasnoalarmout,youknow.Hehadn’tevenwokenup,Igather,atthattime,fromthedopeorwhateveritwashewasgiven.HewasstillatFrankfurt.’
‘ButsomeonecouldhavestolenthatpassportandcomeontheplaneandsogotintoEngland?’
‘Yes,’saidMunro,‘that’sthepresumption.Eithersomeonetookawalletwhichhadmoneyinitandapassport,orelsesomeonewantedapassportandsettledonSirStaffordNyeasaconvenientpersontotakeitfrom.Adrinkwaswaitingonatable,putapinchinthat,waittillthemanwentofftosleep,takethepassportandchanceit.’
‘Butafterall,theylookatapassport.Musthaveseenitwasn’ttherightman,’saidChetwynd.
‘Well,theremusthavebeenacertainresemblance,certainly,’saidHorsham.‘Butitisn’tasthoughtherewasanynoticeofhisbeingmissing,anyspecialattentiondrawntothatparticularpassportinanyway.Alargecrowdcomesthroughonaplanethat’soverdue.Amanlooksreasonablylikethephotographinhispassport.That’sall.Briefglance,handedback,passiton.Anywaywhatthey’relookingforusuallyistheforeignersthatarecomingin,nottheBritishlot.Darkhair,darkblueeyes,cleanshaven,fivefoottenorwhateveritis.That’saboutallyouwanttosee.Notonalistofundesirablealiensoranythinglikethat.’
‘Iknow,Iknow.Still,you’dsayifanybodywantedmerelytopinchawalletorsomemoneyorthat,theywouldn’tusethepassport,wouldthey.Toomuchrisk.’
‘Yes,’saidHorsham.‘Yes,thatistheinterestingpartofit.Ofcourse,’hesaid,‘we’remakinginvestigations,askingafewquestionshereandthere.’
‘Andwhat’syourownopinion?’
‘Iwouldn’tliketosayyet,’saidHorsham.‘Ittakesalittletime,youknow.Onecan’thurrythings.’
‘They’reallthesame,’saidColonelMunro,whenHorshamhadlefttheroom.‘Theyneverwilltellyouanything,thosedamnedsecuritypeople.Iftheythinkthey’reonthetrailofanything,theywon’tadmitit.’
‘Well,that’snatural,’saidChetwynd,‘becausetheymightbewrong.’
Itseemedatypicallypoliticalview.
‘Horsham’saprettygoodman,’saidMunro.‘Theythinkveryhighlyofhimatheadquarters.He’snotlikelytobewrong.’
Chapter3
TheManFromTheCleaners
SirStaffordNyereturnedtohisflat.Alargewomanbouncedoutofthesmallkitchenwithwelcomingwords.
‘Seeyougotbackallright,sir.Thosenastyplanes.Youneverknow,doyou?’
‘Quitetrue,MrsWorrit,’saidSirStaffordNye.‘Twohourslate,theplanewas.’
‘Sameascars,aren’tthey,’saidMrsWorrit.‘Imean,youneverknow,doyou,what’sgoingtogowrongwiththem.Onlyit’smoreworrying,sotospeak,beingupintheair,isn’tit?Can’tjustdrawuptothekerb,notthesameway,canyou?Imean,thereyouare.Iwouldn’tgobyonemyself,notifitwaseverso.’Shewenton,‘I’veorderedinafewthings.Ihopethat’sallright.Eggs,butter,coffee,tea–’SheranoffthewordswiththeloquacityofaNearEasternguideshowingaPharaoh’spalace.‘There,’saidMrsWorrit,pausingtotakebreath,‘Ithinkthat’sallasyou’relikelytowant.I’veorderedtheFrenchmustard.’
‘NotDijon,isit?TheyalwaystryandgiveyouDijon.’
‘Idon’tknowwhohewas,butit’sEstherDragon,theoneyoulike,isn’tit?’
‘Quiteright,’saidSirStafford,‘you’reawonder.’
MrsWorritlookedpleased.Sheretiredintothekitchenagain,asSirStaffordNyeputhishandonhisbedroomdoorhandlepreparatorytogoingintothebedroom.
‘Allrighttogiveyourclothestothegentlemanwhatcalledforthem,Isuppose,sir?Youhadn’tsaidorleftwordoranythinglikethat.’
‘Whatclothes?’saidSirStaffordNye,pausing.
‘Twosuits,itwas,thegentlemansaidascalledforthem.TwissandBonyworkitwas,thinkthat’sthesamenameascalledbefore.We’dhadabitofadisputewiththeWhiteSwanlaundryifIrememberrightly.’
‘Twosuits?’saidSirStaffordNye.‘Whichsuits?’
‘Well,therewastheoneyoutravelledhomein,sir.Imadeoutthatwouldbeoneofthem.Iwasn’tquitesosureabouttheother,buttherewasthebluepinstripethatyoudidn’tleavenoordersaboutwhenyouwentaway.Itcoulddowithcleaning,andtherewasarepairwanteddoingtotheright-handcuff,butIdidn’tliketotakeitonmyselfwhileyouwereaway.Ineverlikestodothat,’saidMrsWorritwithanairofpalpablevirtue.
‘Sothechap,whoeverhewas,tookthosesuitsaway?’
‘IhopeIdidn’tdowrong,sir.’MrsWorritbecameworried.
‘Idon’tmindthebluepinstripe.Idaresayit’sallforthebest.ThesuitIcamehomein,well–’
‘It’sabitthin,thatsuit,sir,forthistimeofyear,youknow,sir.Allrightforthosepartsasyou’vebeeninwhereit’shot.Anditcoulddowithaclean.Hesaidasyou’drungupaboutthem.That’swhatthegentlemansaidascalledforthem.’
‘Didhegointomyroomandpickthemouthimself?’
‘Yes,sir.Ithoughtthatwasbest.’
‘Veryinteresting,’saidSirStafford.‘Yes,veryinteresting.’
Hewentintohisbedroomandlookedroundit.Itwasneatandtidy.Thebedwasmade,thehandofMrsWorritwasapparent,hiselecticrazorwasoncharge,thethingsonthedressing-tablewereneatlyarranged.
Hewenttothewardrobeandlookedinside.Helookedinthedrawersofthetallboythatstoodagainstthewallnearthewindow.Itwasallquitetidy.Itwastidierindeedthanitshouldhavebeen.Hehaddonealittleunpackinglastnightandwhatlittlehehaddonehadbeenofacursorynature.Hehadthrownunderclothingandvariousoddsandendsintheappropriatedrawerbuthehadnotarrangedthemneatly.Hewouldhavedonethathimselfeithertodayortomorrow.HewouldnothaveexpectedMrsWorrittodoitforhim.Heexpectedhermerelytokeepthingsasshefoundthem.Then,whenhecamebackfromabroad,therewouldbeatimeforrearrangementsandreadjustmentsbecauseofclimateandothermatters.Sosomeonehadlookedroundhere,someonehadtakenoutdrawers,lookedthroughthemquickly,hurriedly,hadreplacedthings,partlybecauseofhishurry,moretidilyandneatlythanheshouldhavedone.Aquickcarefuljobandhehadgoneawaywithtwosuitsandaplausibleexplanation.OnesuitobviouslywornbySirStaffordwhentravellingandasuitofthinmaterialwhichmighthavebeenonetakenabroadandbroughthome.Sowhy?
‘Because,’saidSirStaffordthoughtfully,tohimself,‘becausesomebodywaslookingforsomething.Butwhat?Andwho?Andalsoperhapswhy?’Yes,itwasinteresting.
Hesatdowninachairandthoughtaboutit.Presentlyhiseyesstrayedtothetablebythebedonwhichsat,ratherpertly,asmallfurrypanda.Itstartedatrainofthought.Hewenttothetelephoneandranganumber.
‘Thatyou,AuntMatilda?’hesaid.‘Staffordhere.’
‘Ah,mydearboy,soyou’reback.I’msoglad.Ireadinthepaperthey’dgotcholerainMalayayesterday,atleastIthinkitwasMalaya.Ialwaysgetsomixedupwiththoseplaces.Ihopeyou’recomingtoseemesoon?Don’tpretendyou’rebusy.Youcan’tbebusyallthetime.Onereallyonlyacceptsthatsortofthingfromtycoons,peopleinindustry,youknow,inthemiddleofmergersandtakeovers.Ineverknowwhatitallreallymeans.Itusedtomeandoingyourworkproperlybutnowitmeansthingsalltiedupwithatombombsandfactoriesinconcrete,’saidAuntMatilda,ratherwildly.‘Andthoseterriblecomputersthatgetallone’sfigureswrong,tosaynothingofmakingthemthewrongshape.Really,theyhavemadelifesodifficultforusnowadays.Youwouldn’tbelievethethingsthey’vedonetomybankaccount.Andtomypostaladdresstoo.Well,IsupposeI’velivedtoolong.’
‘Don’tyoubelieveit!AllrightifIcomedownnextweek?’
‘Comedowntomorrowifyoulike.I’vegotthevicarcomingtodinner,butIcaneasilyputhimoff.’
‘Oh,lookhere,noneedtodothat.’
‘Yesthereis,everyneed.He’samostirritatingmanandhewantsaneworgantoo.Thisonedoesquitewellasitis.Imeanthetroubleiswiththeorganist,really,nottheorgan.Anabsolutelyabominablemusician.Thevicar’ssorryforhimbecausehelosthismotherwhomhewasveryfondof.Butreally,beingfondofyourmotherdoesn’tmakeyouplaytheorgananybetter,doesit?Imean,onehastolookatthingsastheyare.’
‘Quiteright.Itwillhavetobenextweek–I’vegotafewthingstoseeto.How’sSybil?’
‘Dearchild!Verynaughtybutsuchfun.’
‘Ibroughtherhomeawoollypanda,’saidSirStaffordNye.
‘Well,thatwasveryniceofyou,dear.’
‘Ihopeshe’lllikeit,’saidSirStafford,catchingthepanda’seyeandfeelingslightlynervous.
‘Well,atanyrate,she’sgotverygoodmanners,’saidAuntMatilda,whichseemedasomewhatdoubtfulanswer,themeaningofwhichSirStafforddidnotquiteappreciate.
AuntMatildasuggestedlikelytrainsfornextweekwiththewarningthattheyveryoftendidnotrun,orchangedtheirplans,andalsocommandedthatheshouldbringherdownaCamembertcheeseandhalfaStilton.
‘Impossibletogetanythingdownherenow.Ourowngrocer–suchaniceman,sothoughtfulandsuchgoodtasteinwhatweallliked–turnedsuddenlyintoasupermarket,sixtimesthesize,allrebuilt,basketsandwiretraystocarryroundandtrytofillupwiththingsyoudon’twantandmothersalwayslosingtheirbabies,andcryingandhavinghysterics.Mostexhausting.Well,I’llbeexpectingyou,dearboy.’Sherangoff.
Thetelephonerangagainatonce.
‘Hullo?Stafford?EricPughhere.HeardyouwerebackfromMalaya–whataboutdiningtonight?’
‘Liketoverymuch.’
‘Good–LimpitsClub–eight-fifteen?’
MrsWorritpantedintotheroomasSirStaffordreplacedthereceiver.
‘Agentlemandownstairswantingtoseeyou,sir,’shesaid.‘AtleastImean,Isupposehe’sthat.Anywayhesaidhewassureyouwouldn’tmind.’
‘What’shisname?’
‘Horsham,sir,liketheplaceonthewaytoBrighton.’
‘Horsham.’SirStaffordNyewasalittlesurprised.
Hewentoutofhisbedroom,downahalfflightofstairsthatledtothebigsitting-roomonthelowerfloor.MrsWorrithadmadenomistake.Horshamitwas,lookingashehadlookedhalfanhourago,stalwart,trustworthy,cleftchin,rubicundcheeks,bushygreymoustacheandageneralairofimperturbability.
‘Hopeyoudon’tmind,’hesaidagreeably,risingtohisfeet.
‘HopeIdon’tmindwhat?’saidSirStaffordNye.
‘Seeingmeagainsosoon.WemetinthepassageoutsideMrGordonChetwynd’sdoor–ifyouremember?’
‘Noobjectionsatall,’saidSirStaffordNye.
Hepushedacigarette-boxalongthetable.
‘Sitdown.Somethingforgotten,somethingleftunsaid?’
‘Veryniceman,MrChetwynd,’saidHorsham.‘We’vegothimquieteneddown,Ithink.HeandColonelMunro.They’reabitupsetaboutitall,youknow.Aboutyou,Imean.’
‘Really?’
SirStaffordNyesatdowntoo.Hesmiled,hesmoked,andhelookedthoughtfullyatHenryHorsham.‘Andwheredowegofromhere?’heasked.
‘IwasjustwonderingifImightask,withoutunduecuriosity,whereyou’regoingfromhere?’
‘Delightedtotellyou,’saidSirStaffordNye.‘I’mgoingtostaywithanauntofmine,LadyMatildaCleckheaton.I’llgiveyoutheaddressifyoulike.’
‘Iknowit,’saidHenryHorsham.‘Well,Iexpectthat’saverygoodidea.She’llbegladtoseeyou’vecomehomesafelyallright.Mighthavebeenanearthing,mightn’tit?’
‘IsthatwhatColonelMunrothinksandMrChetwynd?’
‘Well,youknowwhatitis,sir,’saidHorsham.‘Youknowwellenough.They’realwaysinastate,gentlemeninthatdepartment.They’renotsurewhethertheytrustyouornot.’
‘Trustme?’saidSirStaffordNyeinanoffendedvoice.‘Whatdoyoumeanbythat,MrHorsham?’
MrHorshamwasnottakenaback.Hemerelygrinned.
‘Yousee,’hesaid,‘you’vegotareputationfornottakingthingsseriously.’
‘Oh.IthoughtyoumeantIwasafellowtravelleroraconverttothewrongside.Somethingofthatkind.’
‘Ohno,sir,theyjustdon’tthinkyou’reserious.Theythinkyoulikehavingabitofajokenowandagain.’
‘Onecannotgoentirelythroughlifetakingoneselfandotherpeopleseriously,’saidSirStaffordNye,disapprovingly.
‘No.Butyoutookaprettygoodrisk,asI’vesaidbefore,didn’tyou?’
‘IwonderifIknowintheleastwhatyouaretalkingabout.’
‘I’lltellyou.Thingsgowrong,sir,sometimes,andtheydon’talwaysgowrongbecausepeoplehavemadethemgowrong.WhatyoumightcalltheAlmightytakesahand,ortheothergentleman–theonewiththetail,Imean.’
SirStaffordNyewasslightlydiverted.
‘AreyoureferringtofogatGeneva?’hesaid.
‘Exactly,sir.TherewasfogatGenevaandthatupsetpeople’splans.Somebodywasinanastyhole.’
‘Tellmeallaboutit,’saidSirStaffordNye.‘Ireallywouldliketoknow.’
‘Well,apassengerwasmissingwhenthatplaneofyoursleftFrankfurtyesterday.You’ddrunkyourbeerandyouweresittinginacornersnoringnicelyandcomfortablybyyourself.Onepassengerdidn’treportandtheycalledherandtheycalledheragain.Intheend,presumably,theplaneleftwithouther.’
‘Ah.Andwhathadhappenedtoher?’
‘Itwouldbeinterestingtoknow.Inanycase,yourpassportarrivedatHeathrowevenifyoudidn’t.’
‘Andwhereisitnow?AmIsupposedtohavegotit?’
‘No.Idon’tthinkso.Thatwouldberathertooquickwork.Goodreliablestuff,thatdope.Justright,ifImaysayso.Itputyououtanditdidn’tproduceanyparticularlybadeffects.’
‘Itgavemeaverynastyhangover,’saidSirStafford.
‘Ahwell,youcan’tavoidthat.Notinthecircumstances.’
‘Whatwouldhavehappened,’SirStaffordasked,‘sinceyouseemtoknowallabouteverything,ifIhadrefusedtoacceptthepropositionthatmay–Iwillonlysaymay–havebeenputuptome?’
‘It’squitepossiblethatitwouldhavebeencurtainsforMaryAnn.’
‘MaryAnn?Who’sMaryAnn?’
‘MissDaphneTheodofanous.’
‘That’sthenameIdoseemtohaveheard–beingsummonedasamissingtraveller?’
‘Yes,that’sthenameshewastravellingunder.WecallherMaryAnn.’
‘Whoisshe–justasamatterofinterest?’
‘Inherownlineshe’smoreorlessthetops.’
‘Andwhatisherline?Issheoursorisshetheirs,ifyouknowwho“theirs”is?ImustsayIfindalittledifficultymyselfwhenmakingmymindupaboutthat.’
‘Yes,it’snotsoeasy,isit?WhatwiththeChineseandtheRusskiesandtheratherqueercrowdthat’sbehindallthestudenttroublesandtheNewMafiaandtheratheroddlotinSouthAmerica.Andthenicelittlenestoffinancierswhoseemtohavegotsomethingfunnyuptheirsleeves.Yes,it’snoteasytosay.’
‘MaryAnn,’saidSirStaffordNyethoughtfully.‘ItseemsacuriousnametohaveforherifherrealoneisDaphneTheodofanous.’
‘Well,hermother’sGreek,herfatherwasanEnglishman,andhergrandfatherwasanAustriansubject.’
‘WhatwouldhavehappenedifIhadn’tmadehera–loanofacertaingarment?’
‘Shemighthavebeenkilled.’
‘Come,come.Notreally?’
‘We’reworriedabouttheairportatHeathrow.Thingshavehappenedtherelately,thingsthatneedabitofexplaining.IftheplanehadgoneviaGenevaasplanned,itwouldhavebeenallright.She’dhavehadfullprotectionallarranged.Butthisotherway–therewouldn’thavebeentimetoarrangeanythingandyoudon’tknowwho’swhoalways,nowadays.Everyone’splayingadoublegameoratrebleoraquadrupleone.’
‘Youalarmme,’saidSirStaffordNye.‘Butshe’sallright,isshe?Isthatwhatyou’retellingme?’
‘Ihopeshe’sallright.Wehaven’theardanythingtothecontrary.’
‘Ifit’sanyhelptoyou,’saidSirStaffordNye,‘somebodycalledherethismorningwhileIwasouttalkingtomylittlepalsinWhitehall.HerepresentedthatItelephonedafirmofcleanersandheremovedthesuitthatIworeyesterday,andalsoanothersuit.Ofcourseitmayhavebeenmerelythathetookafancytotheothersuit,orhemayhavemadeapracticeofcollectingvariousgentlemen’ssuitingswhohaverecentlyreturnedfromabroad.Or–well,perhapsyou’vegotan“or”toadd?’
‘Hemighthavebeenlookingforsomething.’
‘Yes,Ithinkhewas.Somebody’sbeenlookingforsomething.Allveryniceandtidilyarrangedagain.NotthewayIleftit.Allright,hewaslookingforsomething.Whatwashelookingfor?’
‘I’mnotsuremyself,’saidHorsham,slowly.‘IwishIwas.There’ssomethinggoingon–somewhere.Therearebitsofitstickingout,youknow,likeabadlydoneupparcel.Yougetapeephereandapeepthere.Onemomentyouthinkit’sgoingonattheBayreuthFestivalandthenextminuteyouthinkit’stuckingoutofaSouthAmericanestanciaandthenyougetabitofaleadintheUSA.There’salotofnastybusinessgoingonindifferentplaces,workinguptosomething.Maybepolitics,maybesomethingquitedifferentfrompolitics.It’sprobablymoney.’Headded:‘YouknowMrRobinson,don’tyou?OrratherMrRobinsonknowsyou,Ithinkhesaid.’
‘Robinson?’SirStaffordNyeconsidered.‘Robinson.NiceEnglishname.’HelookedacrosstoHorsham.‘Large,yellowface?’hesaid.‘Fat?Fingerinfinancialpiesgenerally?’Heasked:‘Ishe,too,onthesideoftheangels–isthatwhatyou’retellingme?’
‘Idon’tknowaboutangels,’saidHenryHorsham.‘He’spulledusoutofaholeinthiscountrymorethanonce.PeoplelikeMrChetwynddon’tgoforhimmuch.Thinkhe’stooexpensive,Isuppose.Inclinedtobeameanman,MrChetwynd.Agreatoneformakingenemiesinthewrongplace.’
‘Oneusedtosay“Poorbuthonest”,’saidSirStaffordNyethoughtfully.‘Itakeitthatyouwouldputitdifferently.YouwoulddescribeourMrRobinsonasexpensivebuthonest.Orshallweputit,honestbutexpensive.’Hesighed.‘Iwishyoucouldtellmewhatallthisisabout,’hesaidplaintively.‘HereIseemtobemixedupinsomethingandnoideawhatitis.’HelookedatHenryHorshamhopefully,butHorshamshookhishead.
‘Noneofusknows.Notexactly,’hesaid.
‘WhatamIsupposedtohavegothiddenherethatsomeonecomesfiddlingandlookingfor?’
‘Frankly,Ihaven’ttheleastidea,SirStafford.’
‘Well,that’sapitybecauseIhaven’teither.’
‘Asfarasyouknowyouhaven’tgotanything.Nobodygaveyouanythingtokeep,totakeanywhere,tolookafter?’
‘Nothingwhatsoever.IfyoumeanMaryAnn,shesaidshewantedherlifesaved,that’sall.’
‘Andunlessthere’saparagraphintheeveningpapers,youhavesavedherlife.’
‘Itseemsrathertheendofthechapter,doesn’tit?Apity.Mycuriosityisrising.IfindIwanttoknowverymuchwhat’sgoingtohappennext.Allyoupeopleseemverypessimistic.’
‘Frankly,weare.Thingsaregoingbadlyinthiscountry.Canyouwonder?’
‘Iknowwhatyoumean.Isometimeswondermyself–’
Chapter4
DinnerWithEric
I
‘DoyoumindifItellyousomething,oldman?’saidEricPugh.
SirStaffordNyelookedathim.HehadknownEricPughforagoodmanyyears.Theyhadnotbeenclosefriends.OldEric,orsoSirStaffordthought,wasratheraboringfriend.Hewas,ontheotherhand,faithful.Andhewasthetypeofmanwho,thoughnotamusing,hadaknackofknowingthings.Peoplesaidthingstohimandherememberedwhattheysaidandstoredthemup.Sometimeshecouldpushoutausefulbitofinformation.
‘ComebackfromthatMalayConference,haven’tyou?’
‘Yes,’saidSirStafford.
‘Anythingparticularturnupthere?’
‘Justtheusual,’saidSirStafford.
‘Oh.Iwonderedifsomethinghad–well,youknowwhatImean.Anythinghadoccurredtoputthecatamongthepigeons.’
‘What,attheConference?No,justpainfullypredictable.Everyonesaidjustwhatyouthoughtthey’dsayonlytheysaiditunfortunatelyatrathergreaterlengththanyoucouldhaveimaginedpossible.Idon’tknowwhyIgoonthesethings.’
EricPughmadearathertediousremarkortwoastowhattheChinesewerereallyupto.
‘Idon’tthinkthey’rereallyuptoanything,’saidSirStafford.‘Alltheusualrumours,youknow,aboutthediseasespooroldMaohasgotandwho’sintriguingagainsthimandwhy.’
‘AndwhatabouttheArab-Israelibusiness?’
‘That’sproceedingaccordingtoplanalso.Theirplan,thatistosay.Andanyway,what’sthatgottodowithMalaya?’
‘Well,Ididn’treallymeansomuchMalaya.’
‘You’relookingratherliketheMockTurtle,’saidSirStaffordNye.‘“Soupoftheevening,beautifulsoup.”Whereforethisgloom?’
‘Well,Ijustwonderedifyou’d–you’llforgiveme,won’tyou?–Imeanyouhaven’tdoneanythingtoblotyourcopybook,haveyou,inanyway?’
‘Me?’saidSirStafford,lookinghighlysurprised.
‘Well,youknowwhatyou’relike,Staff.Youlikegivingpeopleajoltsometimes,don’tyou?’
‘Ihavebehavedimpeccablyoflate,’saidSirStafford.‘Whathaveyoubeenhearingaboutme?’
‘Iheartherewassometroubleaboutsomethingthathappenedinaplaneonyourwayhome.’
‘Oh?’Whodidyouhearthatfrom?’
‘Well,youknow,IsawoldCartison.’
‘Terribleoldbore.Alwaysimaginingthingsthathaven’thappened.’
‘Yes,Iknow.Iknowheislikethat.Buthewasjustsayingthatsomebodyorother–Winterton,atleast–seemedtothinkyou’dbeenuptosomething.’
‘Uptosomething?IwishIhad,’saidSirStaffordNye.
‘There’ssomeespionageracketgoingonsomewhereandhegotabitworriedaboutcertainpeople.’
‘WhatdotheythinkIam–anotherPhilby,somethingofthatkind?’
‘Youknowyou’reveryunwisesometimesinthethingsyousay,thethingsyoumakejokesabout.’
‘It’sveryhardtoresistsometimes,’hisfriendtoldhim.‘Allthesepoliticiansanddiplomatsandtherestofthem.They’resobloodysolemn.You’dliketogivethemabitofastirupnowandagain.’
‘Yoursenseoffunisverydistorted,myboy.Itreallyis.Iworryaboutyousometimes.Theywantedtoaskyousomequestionsaboutsomethingthathappenedontheflightbackandtheyseemtothinkthatyoudidn’t,well–thatperhapsyoudidn’texactlyspeakthetruthaboutitall.’
‘Ah,that’swhattheythink,isit?Interesting.IthinkImustworkthatupabit.’
‘Nowdon’tdoanythingrash.’
‘Imusthavemymomentsoffunsometimes.’
‘Lookhere,oldfellow,youdon’twanttogoandruinyourcareerjustbyindulgingyoursenseofhumour.’
‘Iamquicklycomingtotheconclusionthatthereisnothingsoboringashavingacareer.’
‘Iknow,Iknow.Youarealwaysinclinedtotakethatpointofview,andyouhaven’tgotonasfarasyououghttohave,youknow.YouwereintherunningforViennaatonetime.Idon’tliketoseeyoumuckupthings.’
‘Iambehavingwiththeutmostsobrietyandvirtue,Iassureyou,’saidSirStaffordNye.Headded,‘Cheerup,Eric.You’reagoodfriend,butreally,I’mnotguiltyoffunandgames.’
Ericshookhisheaddoubtfully.
Itwasafineevening.SirStaffordwalkedhomeacrossGreenPark.AshecrossedtheroadinBirdcageWalk,acarleapingdownthestreetmissedhimbyafewinches.SirStaffordwasanathleticman.Hisleaptookhimsafelyontothepavement.Thecardisappeareddownthestreet.Hewondered.Justforamomenthecouldhaveswornthatthatcarhaddeliberatelytriedtorunhimdown.Aninterestingthought.Firsthisflathadbeensearched,andnowhehimselfmighthavebeenmarkeddown.Probablyamerecoincidence.Andyet,inthecourseofhislife,someofwhichhadbeenspentinwildneighbourhoodsandplaces,SirStaffordNyehadcomeincontactwithdanger.Heknew,asitwere,thetouchandfeelandsmellofdanger.Hefeltitnow.Someone,somewherewasgunningforhim.Butwhy?Forwhatreason?Asfarasheknew,hehadnotstuckhisneckoutinanyway.Hewondered.
Helethimselfintohisflatandpickedupthemailthatlayonthefloorinside.Nothingmuch.AcoupleofbillsandcopyofLifeboatperiodical.HethrewthebillsontohisdeskandputafingerthroughthewrapperofLifeboat.Itwasacausetowhichheoccasionallycontributed.Heturnedthepageswithoutmuchattentionbecausehewasstillabsorbedinwhathewasthinking.Thenhestoppedtheactionofhisfingersabruptly.Somethingwastapedbetweentwoofthepages.Tapedwithadhesivetape.Helookedatitclosely.Itwashispassportreturnedtohimunexpectedlyinthisfashion.Hetoreitfreeandlookedatit.ThelaststamponitwasthearrivalstampatHeathrowthedaybefore.Shehadusedhispassport,gettingbackheresafely,andhadchosenthiswaytoreturnittohim.Wherewasshenow?Hewouldliketoknow.
Hewonderedifhewouldeverseeheragain.Whowasshe?Wherehadshegone,andwhy?Itwaslikewaitingforthesecondactofaplay.Indeed,hefeltthefirstacthadhardlybeenplayedyet.Whathadheseen?Anold-fashionedcurtain-raiser,perhaps.Agirlwhohadridiculouslywantedtodressherselfupandpassherselfoffasofthemalesex,whohadpassedthepassportcontrolofHeathrowwithoutattractingsuspicionofanykindtoherselfandwhohadnowdisappearedthroughthatgatewayintoLondon.No,hewouldprobablyneverseeheragain.Itannoyedhim.Butwhy,hethought,whydoIwantto?Shewasn’tparticularlyattractive,shewasn’tanything.No,thatwasn’tquitetrue.Shewassomething,orsomeone,orshecouldnothaveinducedhim,withnoparticularpersuasion,withnoovertsexstimulation,nothingexceptaplaindemandforhelp,todowhatshewanted.Ademandfromonehumanbeingtoanotherhumanbeingbecause,orsoshehadintimated,notpreciselyinwords,butneverthelessitwaswhatshehadintimated,sheknewpeopleandsherecognizedinhimamanwhowaswillingtotakearisktohelpanotherhumanbeing.Andhehadtakenarisk,too,thoughtSirStaffordNye.Shecouldhaveputanythinginthatbeerglassofhis.Hecouldhavebeenfound,ifshehadsowilledit,foundasadeadbodyinaseattuckedawayinthecornerofadepartureloungeinanairport.Andifshehad,asnodoubtshemusthavehad,aknowledgeablerecoursetodrugs,hisdeathmighthavebeenpassedoffasanattackofhearttroubleduetoaltitudeordifficultpressurizing–somethingorotherlikethat.Ohwell,whythinkaboutit?Hewasn’tlikelytoseeheragainandhewasannoyed.
Yes,hewasannoyed,andhedidn’tlikebeingannoyed.Heconsideredthematterforsomeminutes.Thenhewroteoutanadvertisement,toberepeatedthreetimes.‘PassengertoFrankfurt.November3rd.PleasecommunicatewithfellowtravellertoLondon.’Nomorethanthat.Eithershewouldorshewouldn’t.Ifitevercametohereyesshewouldknowbywhomthatadvertisementhadbeeninserted.Shehadhadhispassport,sheknewhisname.Shecouldlookhimup.Hemighthearfromher.Hemightnot.Probablynot.Ifnot,thecurtain-raiserwouldremainacurtain-raiser,asillylittleplaythatreceivedlate-comerstothetheatreanddivertedthemuntiltherealbusinessoftheeveningbegan.Veryusefulinpre-wartimes.Inallprobability,though,hewouldnothearfromheragainandoneofthereasonsmightbethatshemighthaveaccomplishedwhateveritwasshehadcometodoinLondon,andhavenowleftthecountryoncemore,flyingabroadtoGeneva,ortheMiddleEast,ortoRussiaortoChinaortoSouthAmerica,ortotheUnitedStates.Andwhy,thoughtSirStafford,doIincludeSouthAmerica?Theremustbeareason.ShehadnotmentionedSouthAmerica.NobodyhadmentionedSouthAmerica.ExceptHorsham,thatwastrue.AndevenHorshamhadonlymentionedSouthAmericaamongalotofothermentions.
Onthefollowingmorningashewalkedslowlyhomeward,afterhandinginhisadvertisement,alongthepathwayacrossStJames’sParkhiseyepickedout,halfunseeing,theautumnflowers.Thechrysanthemumslookingbynowstiffandleggywiththeirbuttontopsofgoldandbronze.Theirsmellcametohimfaintly,arathergoatlikesmell,hehadalwaysthought,asmellthatremindedhimofhillsidesinGreece.HemustremembertokeephiseyeonthePersonalColumn.Notyet.Twoorthreedaysatleastwouldhavetopassbeforehisownadvertisementwasputinandbeforetherehadbeentimeforanyonetoputinoneinanswer.Hemustnotmissitiftherewasananswerbecause,afterall,itwasirritatingnottoknow–nottohaveanyideawhatallthiswasabout.
HetriedtorecallnotthegirlattheairportbuthissisterPamela’sface.Alongtimesinceherdeath.Herememberedher.Ofcourseherememberedher,buthecouldnotsomehowpictureherface.Itirritatedhimnottobeabletodoso.Hehadpausedjustwhenhewasabouttocrossoneoftheroads.Therewasnotrafficexceptforacarjiggingslowlyalongwiththesolemndemeanourofaboreddowager.Anelderlycar,hethought.Anold-fashionedDaimlerlimousine.Heshookhisshoulders.Whystandhereinthisidioticway,lostinthought?
Hetookanabruptsteptocrosstheroadandsuddenlywithsurprisingvigourthedowagerlimousine,ashehadthoughtofitinhismind,accelerated.Acceleratedwithasuddenastonishingspeed.Itboredownonhimwithsuchswiftnessthatheonlyjusthadtimetoleapacrossontotheoppositepavement.Itdisappearedwithaflash,turningroundthecurveoftheroadfurtheron.
‘Iwonder,’saidSirStaffordtohimself.‘NowIwonder.Coulditbethatthereissomeonethatdoesn’tlikeme?Someonefollowingme,perhaps,watchingmetakemywayhome,waitingforanopportunity?’
II
ColonelPikeaway,hisbulksprawledoutinhischairinthesmallroominBloomsburywherehesatfromtentofivewithashortintervalforlunch,wassurroundedasusualbyanatmosphereofthickcigarsmoke;withhiseyesclosed,onlyanoccasionalblinkshowedthathewasawakeandnotasleep.Heseldomraisedhishead.SomebodyhadsaidthathelookedlikeacrossbetweenanancientBuddhaandalargebluefrog,withperhaps,assomeimpudentyoungsterhadadded,justatouchofabarsinisterfromahippopotamusinhisancestry.
Thegentlebuzzoftheintercomonhisdeskrousedhim.Heblinkedthreetimesandopenedhiseyes.Hestretchedfortharatherweary-lookinghandandpickedupthereceiver.
‘Well?’hesaid.
Hissecretary’svoicespoke.
‘TheMinisterisherewaitingtoseeyou.’
‘Ishenow?’saidColonelPikeaway.‘AndwhatMinisteristhat?TheBaptistministerfromthechurchroundthecorner?’
‘Ohno,ColonelPikeway,it’sSirGeorgePackham.’
‘Pity,’saidColonelPikeaway,breathingasthmatically.‘Greatpity.TheReverendMcGillisfarmoreamusing.There’sasplendidtouchofhellfireabouthim.’
‘ShallIbringhimin,ColonelPikeaway?’
‘Isupposehewillexpecttobebroughtinatonce.UnderSecretariesarefarmoretouchythanSecretariesofState,’saidColonelPikeawaygloomily.‘AlltheseMinistersinsistoncominginandhavingkittensallovertheplace.’
SirGeorgePackhamwasshownin.Hecoughedandwheezed.Mostpeopledid.Thewindowsofthesmallroomweretightlyclosed.ColonelPikeawayreclinedinhischair,completelysmotheredincigarash.Theatmospherewasalmostunbearableandtheroomwasknowninofficialcirclesasthe‘smallcat-house’.
‘Ah,mydearfellow,’saidSirGeorge,speakingbrisklyandcheerfullyinawaythatdidnotmatchhisasceticandsadappearance.‘Quitealongtimesincewe’vemet,Ithink.’
‘Sitdown,sitdowndo,’saidPikeaway.‘Haveacigar?’
SirGeorgeshudderedslightly.
‘No,thankyou,’hesaid,‘no,thanksverymuch.’
Helookedhardatthewindows.ColonelPikeawaydidnottakethehint.SirGeorgeclearedhisthroatandcoughedagainbeforesaying:
‘Er–IbelieveHorshamhasbeentoseeyou.’
‘Yes,Horsham’sbeenandsaidhispiece,’saidColonelPikeaway,slowlyallowinghiseyestocloseagain.
‘Ithoughtitwasthebestway.Imean,thatheshouldcalluponyouhere.It’smostimportantthatthingsshouldn’tgetroundanywhere.’
‘Ah,’saidColonelPikeaway,‘buttheywill,won’tthey?’
‘Ibegyourpardon?’
‘Theywill,’saidColonelPikeaway.
‘Idon’tknowhowmuchyou–er–well,knowaboutthislastbusiness.’
‘Weknoweverythinghere,’saidColonelPikeaway.‘That’swhatwe’refor.’
‘Oh–ohyes,yescertainly.AboutSirS.N.–youknowwhoImean?’
‘RecentlyapassengerfromFrankfurt,’saidColonelPikeaway.
‘Mostextraordinarybusiness.Mostextraordinary.Onewonders–onereallydoesnotknow,onecan’tbegintoimagine…’
ColonelPikeawaylistenedkindly.
‘Whatisonetothink?’pursuedSirGeorge.‘Doyouknowhimpersonally?’
‘I’vecomeacrosshimonceortwice,’saidColonelPikeaway.
‘Onereallycannothelpwondering–’
ColonelPikeawaysubduedayawnwithsomedifficulty.HewasrathertiredofSirGeorge’sthinking,wondering,andimagining.HehadapooropinionanywayofSirGeorge’sprocessofthought.Acautiousman,amanwhocouldbereliedupontorunhisdepartmentinacautiousmanner.Notamanofscintillatingintellect.Perhaps,thoughtColonelPikeaway,allthebetterforthat.Atanyrate,thosewhothinkandwonderandarenotquitesurearereasonablysafeintheplacewhereGodandtheelectorshaveputthem.
‘Onecannotquiteforget,’continuedSirGeorge,‘thedisillusionmentwehavesufferedinthepast.’
ColonelPikeawaysmiledkindly.
‘Charleston,ConwayandCourtfold,’hesaid.‘Fullytrusted,vettedandapprovedof.AllbeginningwithC,allcrookedassin.’
‘SometimesIwonderifwecantrustanyone,’saidSirGeorgeunhappily.
‘That’seasy,’saidColonelPikeaway,‘youcan’t.’
‘NowtakeStaffordNye,’saidSirGeorge.‘Goodfamily,excellentfamily,knewhisfather,hisgrandfather.’
‘Oftenaslip-upinthethirdgeneration,’saidColonelPikeaway.
TheremarkdidnothelpSirGeorge.
‘Icannothelpdoubting–Imean,sometimeshedoesn’treallyseemserious.’
‘TookmytwoniecestoseethechateauxoftheLoirewhenIwasayoungman,’saidColonelPikeawayunexpectedly.‘Manfishingonthebank.Ihadmyfishing-rodwithme,too.Hesaidtome,“Vousn’êtespasunpêcheursérieux.Vousavezdesfemmesavecvous.”’
‘YoumeanyouthinkSirStafford–?’
‘No,no,neverbeenmixedupwithwomenmuch.Irony’shistrouble.Likessurprisingpeople.Hecan’thelplikingtoscoreoffpeople.’
‘Well,that’snotverysatisfactory,isit?’
‘Whynot?’saidColonelPikeaway.‘Likingaprivatejokeismuchbetterthanhavingsomedealwithadefector.’
‘Ifonecouldfeelthathewasreallysound.Whatwouldyousay–yourpersonalopinion?’
‘Soundasabell,’saidColonelPikeaway.‘Ifabellissound.Itmakesasound,butthat’sdifferent,isn’tit?’Hesmiledkindly.‘Shouldn’tworry,ifIwereyou,’hesaid.
III
SirStaffordNyepushedasidehiscupofcoffee.Hepickedupthenewspaper,glancingovertheheadlines,thenheturneditcarefullytothepagewhichgavePersonaladvertisements.He’dlookeddownthatparticularcolumnforsevendaysnow.Itwasdisappointingbutnotsurprising.Whyonearthshouldheexpecttofindananswer?Hiseyewentslowlydownmiscellaneouspeculiaritieswhichhadalwaysmadethatparticularpageratherfascinatinginhiseyes.Theywerenotsostrictlypersonal.Halfofthemorevenmorethanhalfweredisguisedadvertisementsoroffersofthingsforsaleorwantedforsale.Theyshouldperhapshavebeenputunderadifferentheadingbuttheyhadfoundtheirwayhereconsideringthattheyweremorelikelytocatchtheeyethatway.Theyincludedoneortwoofthehopefulvariety.
‘Youngmanwhoobjectstohardworkandwhowouldlikeaneasylifewouldbegladtoundertakeajobthatwouldsuithim.’
‘GirlwantstotraveltoCambodia.Refusestolookafterchildren.’
‘FirearmusedatWaterloo.Whatoffers.’
‘Gloriousfun-furcoat.Mustbesoldimmediately.Ownergoingabroad.’
‘DoyouknowJennyCapstan?Hercakesaresuperb.
Cometo14LizzardStreet,S.W.3.’
ForamomentStaffordNye’sfingercametoastop.JennyCapstan.Helikedthename.WasthereanyLizzardStreet?Hesupposedso.Hehadneverheardofit.Withasigh,thefingerwentdownthecolumnandalmostatoncewasarrestedoncemore.
‘PassengerfromFrankfurt,ThursdayNov.11,HungerfordBridge7.20.’
Thursday,November11th.Thatwas–yes,thatwastoday.SirStaffordNyeleanedbackinhischairanddrankmorecoffee.Hewasexcited,stimulated.Hungerford.HungerfordBridge.Hegotupandwentintothekitchenette.MrsWorritwascuttingpotatoesintostripsandthrowingthemintoalargebowlofwater.Shelookedupwithsomeslightsurprise.
‘Anythingyouwant,sir?’
‘Yes,’saidSirStaffordNye.‘IfanyonesaidHungerfordBridgetoyou,wherewouldyougo?’
‘WhereshouldIgo?’MrsWorritconsidered.‘YoumeanifIwantedtogo,doyou?’
‘Wecanproceedonthatassumption.’
‘Well,then,IsupposeI’dgotoHungerfordBridge,wouldn’tI?’
‘YoumeanyouwouldgotoHungerfordinBerkshire?’
‘Whereisthat?’saidMrsWorrit.
‘EightmilesbeyondNewbury.’
‘I’veheardofNewbury.Myoldmanbackedahorsetherelastyear.Didwell,too.’
‘Soyou’dgotoHungerfordnearNewbury?’
‘No,ofcourseIwouldn’t,’saidMrsWorrit.‘Goallthatway–whatfor?I’dgotoHungerfordBridge,ofcourse.’
‘Youmean–?’
‘Well,it’snearCharingCross.Youknowwhereitis.OvertheThames.’
‘Yes,’saidSirStaffordNye.‘Yes,Idoknowwhereitisquitewell.Thankyou,MrsWorrit.’
Ithadbeen,hefelt,ratherliketossingapennyheadsortails.AnadvertisementinamorningpaperinLondonmeantHungerfordRailwayBridgeinLondon.Presumablythereforethatiswhattheadvertisermeant,althoughaboutthisparticularadvertiserSirStaffordNyewasnotatallsure.Herideas,fromthebriefexperiencehehadhadofher,wereoriginalideas.Theywerenotthenormalresponsestobeexpected.Butstill,whatelsecouldonedo.Besides,therewereprobablyotherHungerfords,andpossiblytheywouldalsohavebridges,invariouspartsofEngland.Buttoday,well,todayhewouldsee.
IV
Itwasacoldwindyeveningwithoccasionalburstsofthinmistyrain.SirStaffordNyeturnedupthecollarofhismackintoshandploddedon.ItwasnotthefirsttimehehadgoneacrossHungerfordBridge,butithadneverseemedtohimawalktotakeforpleasure.Beneathhimwastheriverandcrossingthebridgewerelargequantitiesofhurryingfigureslikehimself.Theirmackintoshespulledroundthem,theirhatspulleddownandonthepartofoneandallofthemanearnestdesiretogethomeandoutofthewindandrainassoonaspossible.Itwouldbe,thoughtSirStaffordNye,verydifficulttorecognizeanybodyinthisscurryingcrowd.7.20.Notagoodmomenttochooseforarendezvousofanykind.PerhapsitwasHungerfordBridgeinBerkshire.Anyway,itseemedveryodd.
Heploddedon.Hekeptanevenpace,notovertakingthoseaheadofhim,pushingpastthosecomingtheoppositeway.Hewentfastenoughnottobeovertakenbytheothersbehindhim,thoughitwouldbepossibleforthemtodosoiftheywantedto.Ajoke,perhaps,thoughtStaffordNye.Notquitehiskindofjoke,butsomeoneelse’s.
Andyet–notherbrandofhumoureither,hewouldhavethought.Hurryingfigurespassedhimagain,pushinghimslightlyaside.Awomaninamackintoshwascomingalong,walkingheavily.Shecollidedwithhim,slipped,droppedtoherknees.Heassistedherup.
‘Allright?’
‘Yes,thanks.’
Shehurriedon,butasshepassedhim,herwethand,bywhichhehadheldherashepulledhertoherfeet,slippedsomethingintothepalmofhishand,closingthefingersoverit.Thenshewasgone,vanishingbehindhim,minglingwiththecrowd.StaffordNyewenton.Hecouldn’tovertakeher.Shedidnotwishtobeovertaken,either.Hehurriedonandhishandheldsomethingfirmly.Andso,atlonglastitseemed,hecametotheendofthebridgeontheSurreyside.
Afewminuteslaterhehadturnedintoasmallcaféandsattherebehindatable,orderingcoffee.Thenhelookedatwhatwasinhishand.Itwasaverythinoilskinenvelope.Insideitwasacheapqualitywhiteenvelope.Thattooheopened.Whatwasinsidesurprisedhim.Itwasaticket.
AticketfortheFestivalHallforthefollowingevening.
Chapter5
WagnerianMotif
SirStaffordNyeadjustedhimselfmorecomfortablyinhisseatandlistenedtothepersistenthammeringoftheNibelungen,withwhichtheprogrammebegan.
ThoughheenjoyedWagnerianopera,SiegfriedwasbynomeanshisfavouriteoftheoperascomposingtheRing.RheingoldandG?tterd?mmerungwerehistwopreferences.ThemusicoftheyoungSiegfried,listeningtothesongsofthebirds,hadalwaysforsomestrangereasonirritatedhiminsteadoffillinghimwithmelodicsatisfaction.ItmighthavebeenbecausehewenttoaperformanceinMunichinhisyoungdayswhichhaddisplayedamagnificenttenorofunfortunatelyover-magnificentproportions,andhehadbeentooyoungtodivorcethejoyofmusicfromthevisualjoyofseeingayoungSiegfriedthatlookedevenpassablyyoung.Thefactofanoutsizedtenorrollingaboutonthegroundinanaccessofboyishnesshadrevoltedhim.Hewasalsonotparticularlyfondofbirdsandforestmurmurs.No,givehimtheRhineMaidenseverytime,althoughinMunicheventheRhineMaidensinthosedayshadbeenoffairlysolidproportions.Butthatmatteredless.Carriedawaybythemelodicflowofwaterandthejoyousimpersonalsong,hehadnotallowedvisualappreciationtomatter.
Fromtimetotimehelookedabouthimcasually.Hehadtakenhisseatfairlyearly.Itwasafullhouse,asitusuallywas.Theintermissioncame.SirStaffordroseandlookedabouthim.Theseatbesidehishadremainedempty.Someonewhowassupposedtohavearrivedhadnotarrived.Wasthattheanswer,orwasitmerelyacaseofbeingexcludedbecausesomeonehadarrivedlate,whichpracticestillheldontheoccasionswhenWagnerianmusicwaslistenedto.
Hewentout,strolledabout,drankacupofcoffee,smokedacigarette,andreturnedwhenthesummonscame.Thistime,ashedrewnear,hesawthattheseatnexttohiswasfilled.Immediatelyhisexcitementreturned.Heregainedhisseatandsatdown.Yes,itwasthewomanoftheFrankfurtAirLounge.Shedidnotlookathim,shewaslookingstraightahead.Herfaceinprofilewasasclean-cutandpureasherememberedit.Herheadturnedslightly,andhereyespassedoverhimbutwithoutrecognition.Sointentwasthatnon-recognitionthatitwasasgoodasawordspoken.Thiswasameetingthatwasnottobeacknowledged.Notnow,atanyevent.Thelightsbegantodim.Thewomanbesidehimturned.
‘Excuseme,couldIlookatyourprogramme?Ihavedroppedmine,I’mafraid,comingtomyseat.’
‘Ofcourse,’hesaid.
Hehandedovertheprogrammeandshetookitfromhim.Sheopenedit,studiedtheitems.Thelightswentlower.Thesecondhalfoftheprogrammebegan.ItstartedwiththeoverturetoLohengrin.Attheendofitshehandedbacktheprogrammetohimwithafewwordsofthanks.
‘Thankyousomuch.Itwasverykindofyou.’
ThenextitemwastheSiegfriedforestmurmurmusic.Heconsultedtheprogrammeshehadreturnedtohim.Itwasthenthathenoticedsomethingfaintlypencilledatthefootofapage.Hedidnotattempttoreaditnow.Indeed,thelightwouldhavenotbeensufficient.Hemerelyclosedtheprogrammeandheldit.Hehadnot,hewasquitesure,writtenanythingtherehimself.Not,thatis,inhisownprogramme.Shehad,hethought,hadherownprogrammeready,foldedperhapsinherhandbagandhadalreadywrittensomemessagereadytopasstohim.Altogether,itseemedtohim,therewasstillthatatmosphereofsecrecy,ofdanger.ThemeetingonHungerfordBridgeandtheenvelopewiththeticketforcedintohishand.Andnowthesilentwomanwhosatbesidehim.Heglancedatheronceortwicewiththequick,carelessglancethatonegivestoastrangersittingnexttoone.Shelolledbackinherseat;herhigh-neckeddresswasofdullblackcrêpe,anantiquetorqueofgoldencircledherneck.Herdarkhairwascroppedcloselyandshapedtoherhead.Shedidnotglanceathimorreturnanylook.Hewondered.WastheresomeoneintheseatsoftheFestivalHallwatchingher–orwatchinghim?Notingwhethertheylookedorspoketoeachother?Presumablytheremustbe,ortheremustbeatleastthepossibilityofsuchathing.Shehadansweredhisappealinthenewspaperadvertisement.Letthatbeenoughforhim.Hiscuriositywasunimpaired,buthedidatleastknownowthatDaphneTheodofanous–aliasMaryAnn–washereinLondon.Therewerepossibilitiesinthefutureofhislearningmoreofwhatwasafoot.Buttheplanofcampaignmustbelefttoher.Hemustfollowherlead.Ashehadobeyedherintheairport,sohewouldobeyhernowand–lethimadmitit–lifehadbecomesuddenlymoreinteresting.Thiswasbetterthantheboringconferencesofhispoliticallife.Hadacarreallytriedtorunhimdowntheothernight?Hethoughtithad.Twoattempts–notonlyone.Itwaseasyenoughtoimaginethatonewasthetargetofassault,peopledrovesorecklesslynowadaysthatyoucouldeasilyfancymaliceaforethoughtwhenitwasnotso.Hefoldedhisprogramme,didnotlookatitagain.Themusiccametoitsend.Thewomannexttohimspoke.Shedidnotturnherheadorappeartospeaktohim,butshespokealoud,withalittlesighbetweenthewordsasthoughshewascommuningwithherselforpossiblytoherneighbourontheotherside.
‘TheyoungSiegfried,’shesaid,andsighedagain.
TheprogrammeendedwiththeMarchfromDieMeistersinger.Afterenthusiasticapplause,peoplebegantoleavetheirseats.Hewaitedtoseeifshewouldgivehimanylead,butshedidnot.Shegatheredupherwrap,movedoutoftherowofchairs,andwithaslightlyacceleratedstep,movedalongwithotherpeopleanddisappearedinthecrowd.
StaffordNyeregainedhiscaranddrovehome.Arrivedthere,hespreadouttheFestivalHallprogrammeonhisdeskandexamineditcarefully,afterputtingthecoffeetopercolate.
Theprogrammewasdisappointingtosaytheleastofit.Theredidnotappeartobeanymessageinside.Onlyononepageabovethelistoftheitems,werethepencilmarksthathehadvaguelyobserved.Buttheywerenotwordsorlettersorevenfigures.Theyappearedtobemerelyamusicalnotation.Itwasasthoughsomeonehadscribbledaphraseofmusicwithasomewhatinadequatepencil.ForamomentitoccurredtoStaffordNyetheremightperhapsbeasecretmessagehecouldbringoutbyapplyingheat.Rathergingerly,andinawayratherashamedofhismelodramaticfancy,heheldittowardsthebaroftheelectricfirebutnothingresulted.Withasighhetossedtheprogrammebackontothetable.Buthefeltjustifiablyannoyed.Allthisrigmarole,arendezvousonawindyandrainybridgeoverlookingtheriver!Sittingthroughaconcertbythesideofawomanofwhomheyearnedtoaskatleastadozenquestions–andattheendofit?Nothing!Nofurtheron.Still,shehadmethim.Butwhy?Ifshedidn’twanttospeaktohim,tomakefurtherarrangementswithhim,whyhadshecomeatall?
Hiseyespassedidlyacrosstheroomtohisbookcasewhichhereservedforvariousthrillers,worksofdetectivefictionandanoccasionalvolumeofsciencefiction;heshookhishead.Fiction,hethought,wasinfinitelysuperiortoreallife.Deadbodies,mysterioustelephonecalls,beautifulforeignspiesinprofusion!However,thisparticularelusiveladymightnothavedonewithhimyet.Nexttime,hethought,hewouldmakesomearrangementsofhisown.Twocouldplayatthegamethatshewasplaying.
Hepushedasidetheprogrammeanddrankanothercupofcoffeeandwenttothewindow.Hehadtheprogrammestillinhishand.Ashelookedouttowardsthestreetbelowhiseyesfellbackagainontheopenprogrammeinhishandandhehummedtohimself,almostunconsciously.Hehadagoodearformusicandhecouldhumthenotesthatwerescrawledtherequiteeasily.Vaguelytheysoundedfamiliarashehummedthem.Heincreasedhisvoicealittle.Whatwasitnow?Tum,tum,tumtumti-tum.Tum.Yes,definitelyfamiliar.
Hestartedopeninghisletters.
Theyweremostlyuninteresting.Acoupleofinvitations,onefromtheAmericanEmbassy,onefromLadyAthelhampton,aCharityVarietyperformancewhichRoyaltywouldattendandforwhichitwassuggestedfiveguineaswouldnotbeanexorbitantfeetoobtainaseat.Hethrewthemasidelightly.Hedoubtedverymuchwhetherhewishedtoacceptanyofthem.HedecidedthatinsteadofremaininginLondonhewouldwithoutmoreadogoandseehisAuntMatilda,ashehadpromised.HewasfondofhisAuntMatildathoughhedidnotvisitherveryoften.ShelivedinarehabilitatedapartmentconsistingofaseriesofroomsinonewingofalargeGeorgianmanorhouseinthecountrywhichshehadinheritedfromhisgrandfather.Shehadalarge,beautifullyproportionedsitting-room,asmallovaldining-room,anewkitchenmadefromtheoldhousekeeper’sroom,twobedroomsforguests,alargecomfortablebedroomforherselfwithanadjoiningbathroom,andadequatequartersforapatientcompanionwhosharedherdailylife.Theremainsofafaithfuldomesticstaffwerewellprovidedforandhoused.Therestofthehouseremainedunderdustsheetswithperiodicalcleaning.StaffordNyewasfondoftheplace,havingspentholidaysthereasaboy.Ithadbeenagayhousethen.Hiseldestunclehadlivedtherewithhiswifeandtheirtwochildren.Yes,ithadbeenpleasanttherethen.Therehadbeenmoneyandasufficientstafftorunit.Hehadnotspeciallynoticedinthosedaystheportraitsandpictures.Therehadbeenlarge-sizedexamplesofVictorianartoccupyingprideofplace–overcrowdingthewalls,buttherehadbeenothermastersofanolderage.Yes,therehadbeensomegoodportraitsthere.ARaeburn,twoLawrences,aGainsborough,aLely,tworatherdubiousVandykes.AcoupleofTurners,too.Someofthemhadhadtobesoldtoprovidethefamilywithmoney.Hestillenjoyedwhenvisitingtherestrollingaboutandstudyingthefamilypictures.
HisAuntMatildawasagreatchatterboxbutshealwaysenjoyedhisvisits.Hewasfondofherinadesultoryway,buthewasnotquitesurewhyitwasthathehadsuddenlywantedtovisithernow.Andwhatitwasthathadbroughtfamilyportraitsintohismind?CouldithavebeenbecausetherewasaportraitofhissisterPamelabyoneoftheleadingartistsofthedaytwentyyearsago.HewouldliketoseethatportraitofPamelaandlookatitmoreclosely.Seehowclosetheresemblancehadbeenbetweenthestrangerwhohaddisruptedhislifeinthisreallyoutrageousfashionandhissister.
HepickeduptheFestivalHallprogrammeagainwithsomeirritationandbegantohumthepencillednotes.Tum,tum,titum–Thenitcametohimandheknewwhatitwas.ItwastheSiegfriedmotif.Siegfried’sHorn.TheYoungSiegfriedmotif.Thatwaswhatthewomanhadsaidlastnight.Notapparentlytohim,notapparentlytoanybody.Butithadbeenthemessage,amessagethatwouldhavemeantnothingtoanyonearoundsinceitwouldhaveseemedtorefertothemusicthathadjustbeenplayed.Andthemotifhadbeenwrittenonhisprogrammealsoinmusicalterms.TheYoungSiegfried.Itmusthavemeantsomething.Well,perhapsfurtherenlightenmentwouldcome.TheYoungSiegfried.Whatthehelldidthatmean?Whyandhowandwhenandwhat?Ridiculous!Allthosequestioningwords.
HerangthetelephoneandobtainedAuntMatilda’snumber.
‘Butofcourse,Staffydear,itwillbelovelytohaveyou.Takethefour-thirtytrain.Itstillruns,youknow,butitgetshereanhourandahalflater.AnditleavesPaddingtonlater–five-fifteen.That’swhattheymeanbyimprovingtherailways,Isuppose.Stopsatseveralmostabsurdstationsontheway.Allright.HoracewillmeetyouatKing’sMarston.’
‘He’sstilltherethen?’
‘Ofcoursehe’sstillthere.’
‘Isupposeheis,’saidSirStaffordNye.
Horace,onceagroom,thenacoachman,hadsurvivedasachauffeur,andapparentlywasstillsurviving.‘Hemustbeatleasteighty,’saidSirStafford.Hesmiledtohimself.
Chapter6
PortraitOfALady
I
‘Youlookveryniceandbrown,dear,’saidAuntMatilda,surveyinghimappreciatively.‘That’sMalaya,Isuppose.IfitwasMalayayouwentto?OrwasitSiamorThailand?Theychangethenamesofalltheseplacesandreallyitmakesitverydifficult.Anyway,itwasn’tVietnam,wasit?Youknow,Idon’tlikethesoundofVietnamatall.It’sallveryconfusing,NorthVietnamandSouthVietnamandtheViet-CongandtheViet–whatevertheotherthingisandallwantingtofighteachotherandnobodywantingtostop.Theywon’tgotoParisorwhereveritisandsitroundtablesandtalksensibly.Don’tyouthinkreally,dear–I’vebeenthinkingitoverandIthoughtitwouldbeaverynicesolution–couldn’tyoumakealotoffootballfieldsandthentheycouldallgoandfighteachotherthere,butwithlesslethalweapons.Notthatnastypalmburningstuff.Youknow.Justhiteachotherandpuncheachotherandallthat.They’denjoyit,everyonewouldenjoyitandyoucouldchargeadmissionforpeopletogoandseethemdoit.Idothinkreallythatwedon’tunderstandgivingpeoplethethingstheyreallywant.’
‘Ithinkit’saveryfineideaofyours,AuntMatilda,’saidSirStaffordNyeashekissedapleasantlyperfumed,palepinkwrinkledcheek.‘Andhowareyou,mydear?’
‘Well,I’mold,’saidLadyMatildaCleckheaton.‘Yes,I’mold.Ofcourseyoudon’tknowwhatitistobeold.Ifitisn’tonethingit’sanother.Rheumatismorarthritisoranastybitofasthmaorasorethroatoranankleyou’veturned.Alwayssomething,youknow.Nothingveryimportant.Butthereitis.Whyhaveyoucometoseeme,dear?’
SirStaffordwasslightlytakenabackbythedirectnessofthequery.
‘IusuallycomeandseeyouwhenIreturnfromatripabroad.’
‘You’llhavetocomeonechairnearer,’saidAuntMatilda.‘I’mjustthatbitdeafersinceyousawmelast.Youlookdifferent…Whydoyoulookdifferent?’
‘BecauseI’mmoresunburnt.Yousaidso.’
‘Nonsense,that’snotwhatImeanatall.Don’ttellmeit’sagirlatlast.’
‘Agirl?’
‘Well,I’vealwaysfeltitmightbeonesomeday.Thetroubleisyou’vegottoomuchsenseofhumour.’
‘Nowwhyshouldyouthinkthat?’
‘Well,it’swhatpeopledothinkaboutyou.Ohyes,theydo.Yoursenseofhumourisinthewayofyourcareer,too.Youknow,you’reallmixedupwithallthesepeople.Diplomaticandpolitical.Whattheycallyoungerstatesmenandelderstatesmenandmiddlestatesmentoo.AndallthosedifferentParties.ReallyIthinkit’stoosillytohavetoomanyParties.Firstofallthoseawful,awfulLabourpeople.’SheraisedherConservativenoseintotheair.‘Why,whenIwasagirltherewasn’tsuchathingasaLabourParty.Nobodywouldhaveknownwhatyoumeantbyit.They’dhavesaid“nonsense”.Pityitwasn’tnonsense,too.Andthenthere’stheLiberals,ofcourse,butthey’reterriblywet.AndthentherearetheTories,ortheConservativesastheycallthemselvesagainnow.’
‘Andwhat’sthematterwiththem?’askedStaffordNye,smilingslightly.
‘Toomanyearnestwomen.Makesthemlackgaiety,youknow.’
‘Ohwell,nopoliticalpartygoesinforgaietymuchnowadays.’
‘Justso,’saidAuntMatilda.‘Andthenofcoursethat’swhereyougowrong.Youwanttocheerthingsup.Youwanttohavealittlegaietyandsoyoumakealittlegentlefunatpeopleandofcoursetheydon’tlikeit.Theysay“Cen’estpasungar?onsérieux,”likethatmaninthefishing.’
SirStaffordNyelaughed.Hiseyeswerewanderingroundtheroom.
‘Whatareyoulookingat?’saidLadyMatilda.
‘Yourpictures.’
‘Youdon’twantmetosellthem,doyou?Everyoneseemstobesellingtheirpicturesnowadays.OldLordGrampion,youknow.HesoldhisTurnersandhesoldsomeofhisancestorsaswell.AndGeoffreyGouldman.Allthoselovelyhorsesofhis.ByStubbs,weren’tthey?Somethinglikethat.Really,thepricesonegets!
‘ButIdon’twanttosellmypictures.Ilikethem.Mostoftheminthisroomhavearealinterestbecausethey’reancestors.IknownobodywantsancestorsnowadaysbutthenI’mold-fashioned.Ilikeancestors.Myownancestors,Imean.Whatareyoulookingat?Pamela?’
‘Yes,Iwas.Iwasthinkingabouthertheotherday.’
‘Astonishinghowalikeyoutwoare.Imean,it’snotevenasthoughyouweretwins,thoughtheysaythatdifferentsextwins,eveniftheyaretwins,can’tbeidentical,ifyouknowwhatImean.’
‘SoShakespearemusthavemaderatheramistakeoverViolaandSebastian.’
‘Well,ordinarybrothersandsisterscanbealike,can’tthey?YouandPamelawerealwaysveryalike–tolookat,Imean.’
‘Notinanyotherway?Don’tyouthinkwewerealikeincharacter?’
‘No,notintheleast.That’sthefunnypartofit.ButofcourseyouandPamelahavewhatIcallthefamilyface.NotaNyeface.ImeantheBaldwen-Whiteface.’
SirStaffordNyehadneverquitebeenabletocompetewhenitcamedowntotalkingonaquestionofgenealogywithhisgreat-aunt.
‘I’vealwaysthoughtthatyouandPamelabothtookafterAlexa,’shewenton.
‘WhichwasAlexa?’
‘Yourgreat-great–Ithinkonemoregreat–grandmother.Hungarian.AHungariancountessorbaronessorsomething.Yourgreat-great-grandfatherfellinlovewithherwhenhewasatViennaintheEmbassy.Yes.Hungarian.That’swhatshewas.Verysportingtoo.Theyaresporting,youknow,Hungarians.Sherodetohounds,rodemagnificently.’
‘Issheinthepicturegallery?’
‘She’sonthefirstlanding.Justovertheheadofthestairs,alittletotheright.’
‘ImustgoandlookatherwhenIgotobed.’
‘Whydon’tyougoandlookathernowandthenyoucancomebackandtalkabouther.’
‘Iwillifyoulike.’Hesmiledather.
Heranoutoftheroomandupthestaircase.Yes,shehadasharpeye,oldMatilda.Thatwastheface.Thatwasthefacethathehadseenandremembered.Rememberednotforitslikenesstohimself,notevenforitslikenesstoPamela,butforacloserresemblancestilltothispicturehere.AhandsomegirlbroughthomebyhisAmbassadorgreat-great-great-grandfatherifthatwasenoughgreats.AuntMatildawasneversatisfiedwithonlyafew.Abouttwentyshehadbeen.Shehadcomehereandbeenhigh-spiritedandrodeahorsemagnificentlyanddanceddivinelyandmenhadfalleninlovewithher.Butshehadbeenfaithful,soitwasalwayssaid,togreat-great-great-grandfather,averysteadyandsobermemberoftheDiplomaticService.ShehadgonewithhimtoforeignEmbassiesandreturnedhereandhadhadchildren–threeorfourchildren,hebelieved.Throughoneofthosechildrentheinheritanceofherface,hernose,theturnofherneckhadbeenpasseddowntohimandtohissister,Pamela.Hewonderediftheyoungwomanwhohaddopedhisbeerandforcedhimtolendherhiscloakandwhohaddepictedherselfasbeingindangerofdeathunlesshedidwhatsheasked,hadbeenpossiblyrelatedasafifthorsixthcousinremoved,adescendantofthewomanpicturedonthewallatwhichhelooked.Well,itcouldbe.Theyhadbeenofthesamenationality,perhaps.Anywaytheirfaceshadresembledeachotheragooddeal.Howuprightshe’dsatattheopera,howstraightthatprofile,thethin,slightlyarchedaquilinenose.Andtheatmospherethathungabouther.
II
‘Findit?’askedLadyMatilda,whenhernephewreturnedtothewhitedrawing-room,ashersitting-roomwasusuallycalled.‘Interestingface,isn’tit?’
‘Yes,quitehandsome,too.’
‘It’smuchbettertobeinterestingthanhandsome.Butyouhaven’tbeeninHungaryorAustria,haveyou?Youwouldn’tmeetanyonelikeheroutinMalaya?Shewouldn’tbesittingaroundatabletheremakinglittlenotesorcorrectingspeechesorthingslikethat.Shewasawildcreature,byallaccounts.Lovelymannersandalltherestofit.Butwild.Wildasawildbird.Shedidn’tknowwhatdangerwas.’
‘Howdoyouknowsomuchabouther?’
‘Oh,IagreeIwasn’tacontemporaryofhers,Iwasn’tbornuntilseveralyearsaftershewasdead.Allthesame,I’vealwaysbeeninterestedinher.Shewasadventurous,youknow.Veryadventurous.Veryqueerstoriesweretoldabouther,aboutthingsshewasmixedupin.’
‘Andhowdidmygreat-great-great-grandfatherreacttothat?’
‘Iexpectitworriedhimtodeath,’saidLadyMatilda.‘Theysayhewasdevotedtoher,though.Bytheway,Staffy,didyoueverreadThePrisonerofZenda?’
‘PrisonerofZenda?Soundsveryfamiliar.’
‘Well,ofcourseit’sfamiliar,it’sabook.’
‘Yes,yes,Irealizeit’sabook.’
‘Youwouldn’tknowaboutit,Iexpect.Afteryourtime.ButwhenIwasagirl–that’saboutthefirsttasteofromancewegot.NotpopsingersorBeatles.Justaromanticnovel.Weweren’tallowedtoreadnovelswhenIwasyoung.Notinthemorninganyway.Youcouldreadthemintheafternoon.’
‘Whatextraordinaryrules,’saidSirStafford.‘Whyisitwrongtoreadnovelsinthemorningandnotintheafternoon?’
‘Well,inthemornings,yousee,girlsweresupposedtobedoingsomethinguseful.Youknow,doingtheflowersorcleaningthesilverphotographframes.Allthethingswegirlsdid.Doingabitofstudyingwiththegoverness–allthatsortofthing.IntheafternoonwewereallowedtositdownandreadastorybookandThePrisonerofZendawasusuallyoneofthefirstonesthatcameourway.’
‘Averynice,respectablestory,wasit?Iseemtoremembersomethingaboutit.PerhapsIdidreadit.Allverypure,Isuppose.Nottoosexy?’
‘Certainlynot.Wedidn’thavesexybooks.Wehadromance.ThePrisonerofZendawasveryromantic.Onefellinlove,usually,withthehero,RudolfRassendyll.’
‘Iseemtorememberthatnametoo.Bitflorid,isn’tit?’
‘Well,Istillthinkitwasratheraromanticname.Twelveyearsold,Imusthavebeen.Itmademethinkofit,youknow,yourgoingupandlookingatthatportrait.PrincessFlavia,’sheadded
StaffordNyewassmilingather.
‘Youlookyoungandpinkandverysentimental,’hesaid.
‘Well,that’sjustwhatI’mfeeling.Girlscan’tfeellikethatnowadays.They’reswooningwithlove,orthey’refaintingwhensomebodyplaystheguitarorsingsinaveryloudvoice,butthey’renotsentimental.ButIwasn’tinlovewithRudolfRassendyll.Iwasinlovewiththeotherone–hisdouble.’
‘Didhehaveadouble?’
‘Ohyes,aking.TheKingofRuritania.’
‘Ah,ofcourse,nowIknow.That’swherethewordRuritaniacomesfrom:oneisalwaysthrowingitabout.Yes,IthinkIdidreadit,youknow.TheKingofRuritania,andRudolfRassendyllwasstand-infortheKingandfellinlovewithPrincessFlaviatowhomtheKingwasofficiallybetrothed.’
LadyMatildagavesomemoredeepsighs.
‘Yes.RudolfRassendyllhadinheritedhisredhairfromanancestress,andsomewhereinthebookhebowstotheportraitandsayssomethingaboutthe–Ican’trememberthenamenow–theCountessAmeliaorsomethinglikethatfromwhomheinheritedhislooksandalltherestofit.SoIlookedatyouandthoughtofyouasRudolfRassendyllandyouwentoutandlookedatapictureofsomeonewhomighthavebeenanancestressofyoursandsawwhethersheremindedyouofsomeone.Soyou’remixedupinaromanceofsomekind,areyou?’
‘Whatonearthmakesyousaythat?’
‘Well,therearen’tsomanypatternsinlife,youknow.Onerecognizespatternsastheycomeup.It’slikeabookonknitting.Aboutsixty-fivedifferentfancystitches.Well,youknowaparticularstitchwhenyouseeit.Yourstitch,atthemoment,Ishouldsay,istheromanticadventure.’Shesighed.‘Butyouwon’ttellmeaboutit,Isuppose.’
‘There’snothingtotell,’saidSirStafford.
‘Youalwayswerequiteanaccomplishedliar.Well,nevermind.Youbringhertoseemesometime.That’sallI’dlike,beforethedoctorssucceedinkillingmewithyetanothertypeofantibioticthatthey’vejustdiscovered.ThedifferentcolouredpillsI’vehadtotakebythistime!Youwouldn’tbelieveit.’
‘Idon’tknowwhyyousay“she”and“her”–’
‘Don’tyou?Oh,well,IknowashewhenIcomeacrossashe.There’sashesomewheredodgingaboutinyourlife.Whatbeatsmeishowyoufoundher.InMalaya,attheconferencetable?Ambassador’sdaughterorminister’sdaughter?Good-lookingsecretaryfromtheEmbassypool?No,noneofitseemstofit.Shipcominghome?No,youdon’tuseshipsnowadays.Plane,perhaps.’
‘Youaregettingslightlynearer,’SirStaffordNyecouldnothelpsaying.
‘Ah!’Shepounced.‘Airhostess?’
Heshookhishead.
‘Ahwell.Keepyoursecret.Ishallfindout,mindyou.I’vealwayshadagoodnoseforthingsgoingonwhereyou’reconcerned.Thingsgenerallyaswell.OfcourseI’moutofeverythingnowadays,butImeetmyoldcroniesfromtimetotimeandit’squiteeasy,youknow,togetahintortwofromthem.Peopleareworried.Everywhere–they’reworried.’
‘Youmeanthere’sageneralkindofdiscontent–upset?’
‘No,Ididn’tmeanthatatall.Imeanthehighupsareworried.Ourawfulgovernmentsareworried.ThedearoldsleepyForeignOfficeisworried.Therearethingsgoingon,thingsthatshouldn’tbe.Unrest.’
‘Studentunrest?’
‘Oh,studentunrestisjustonefloweronthetree.It’sblossomingeverywhereandineverycountry,orsoitseems.I’vegotanicegirlwhocomes,youknow,andreadsthepaperstomeinthemornings.Ican’treadthemproperlymyself.She’sgotanicevoice.Takesdownmylettersandshereadsthingsfromthepapersandshe’sagoodkindgirl.ShereadsthethingsIwanttoknow,notthethingsthatshethinksarerightformetoknow.Yes,everyone’sworried,asfarasIcanmakeoutandthis,mindyou,camemoreorlessfromaveryoldfriendofmine.’
‘Oneofyouroldmilitarycronies?’
‘He’samajor-general,ifthat’swhatyoumean,retiredagoodmanyyearsagobutstillintheknow.Youthiswhatyoumightcallthespearheadofitall.Butthat’snotreallywhat’ssoworrying.They–whoevertheyare–workthroughyouth.Youthineverycountry.Youthurgedon.Youthchantingslogans,slogansthatsoundexciting,thoughtheydon’talwaysknowwhattheymean.Soeasytostartarevolution.That’snaturaltoyouth.Allyouthhasalwaysrebelled.Yourebel,youpulldown,youwanttheworldtobedifferentfromwhatitis.Butyou’reblind,too.Therearebandagesovertheeyesofyouth.Theycan’tseewherethingsaretakingthem.What’sgoingtocomenext?What’sinfrontofthem?Andwhoitisbehindthem,urgingthemon?That’swhat’sfrighteningaboutit.Youknow,someoneholdingoutthecarrottogetthedonkeytocomealongandatthesametimethereissomeonebehindthedonkeyurgingitonwithastick.’
‘You’vegotsomeextraordinaryfancies.’
‘They’renotonlyfancies,mydearboy.That’swhatpeoplesaidaboutHitler.HitlerandtheHitlerYouth.Butitwasalongcarefulpreparation.Itwasawarthatwasworkedoutindetail.Itwasafifthcolumnbeingplantedindifferentcountriesallreadyforthesupermen.ThesupermenweretobethefloweroftheGermannation.That’swhattheythoughtandbelievedinpassionately.Somebodyelseisperhapsbelievingsomethinglikethatnow.It’sacreedthatthey’llbewillingtoaccept–ifit’sofferedcleverlyenough.’
‘Whoareyoutalkingabout?DoyoumeantheChineseortheRussians?Whatdoyoumean?’
‘Idon’tknow.Ihaven’tthefaintestidea.Butthere’ssomethingsomewhere,andit’srunningonthesamelines.Patternagain,yousee.Pattern!TheRussians?BoggeddownbyCommunism,Ishouldthinkthey’reconsideredold-fashioned.TheChinese?Ithinkthey’velosttheirway.ToomuchChairmanMao,perhaps.Idon’tknowwhothesepeoplearewhoaredoingtheplanning.AsIsaidbefore,it’swhyandwhereandwhenandwho.’
‘Veryinteresting.’
‘It’ssofrightening,thissameideathatalwaysrecurs.Historyrepeatingitself.Theyounghero,thegoldensupermanthatallmustfollow.’Shepaused,thensaid,‘Sameidea,youknow.TheyoungSiegfried.’
Chapter7
AdviceFromGreat-AuntMatilda
Great-AuntMatildalookedathim.Shehadaverysharpandshrewdeye.StaffordNyehadnoticedthatbefore.Henoticeditparticularlyatthismoment.
‘Soyou’veheardthattermbefore,’shesaid.‘Isee.’
‘Whatdoesitmean?’
‘Youdon’tknow?’Sheraisedhereyebrows.
‘Crossmyheartandwishtodie,’saidSirStafford,innurserylanguage.
‘Yes,wealwaysusedtosaythat,didn’twe,’saidLadyMatilda.‘Doyoureallymeanwhatyou’resaying?’
‘Idon’tknowanythingaboutit.’
‘Butyou’dheardthetermbefore.’
‘Yes.Someonesaidittome.’
‘Anyoneimportant?’
‘Itcouldbe.Isupposeitcouldbe.Whatdoyoumeanby“anyoneimportant”?’
‘Well,you’vebeeninvolvedinvariousGovernmentmissionslately,haven’tyou?You’verepresentedthispoor,miserablecountryasbestyoucould,whichIshouldn’twonderwasn’tratherbetterthanmanyotherscoulddo,sittingroundatableandtalking.Idon’tknowwhetheranything’scomeofallthat.’
‘Probablynot,’saidStaffordNye.‘Afterall,oneisn’toptimisticwhenonegoesintothesethings.’
‘Onedoesone’sbest,’saidLadyMatildacorrectively.
‘AveryChristianprinciple.Nowadaysifonedoesone’sworstoneoftenseemstogetonagooddealbetter.Whatdoesallthismean,AuntMatilda?’
‘Idon’tsupposeIknow,’saidhisaunt.
‘Well,youveryoftendoknowthings.’
‘Notexactly.Ijustpickupthingshereandthere.’
‘Yes?’
‘I’vegotafewoldfriendsleft,youknow.Friendswhoareintheknow.Ofcoursemostofthemareeitherpracticallystonedeaforhalfblindoralittlebitgoneinthetopstoreyorunabletowalkstraight.Butsomethingstillfunctions.Something,shallwesay,uphere.’Shehitthetopofherneatlyarrangedwhitehead.‘There’sagooddealofalarmanddespondencyabout.Morethanusual.That’soneofthethingsI’vepickedup.’
‘Isn’ttherealways?’
‘Yes,yes,butthisisabitmorethanthat.Activeinsteadofpassive,asyoumightsay.Foralongtime,asIhavenoticedfromtheoutside,andyou,nodoubt,fromtheinside,wehavefeltthatthingsareinamess.Aratherbadmess.Butnowwe’vegottoapointwherewefeelthatperhapssomethingmighthavebeendoneaboutthemess.There’sanelementofdangerinit.Somethingisgoingon–somethingisbrewing.Notjustinonecountry.Inquitealotofcountries.They’verecruitedaserviceoftheirownandthedangeraboutthatisthatit’saserviceofyoungpeople.Andthekindofpeoplewhowillgoanywhere,doanything,unfortunatelybelieveanything,andsolongastheyarepromisedacertainamountofpullingdown,wrecking,throwingspannersintheworks,thentheythinkthecausemustbeagoodoneandthattheworldwillbeadifferentplace.They’renotcreative,that’sthetrouble–onlydestructive.Thecreativeyoungwritepoems,writebooks,probablycomposemusic,paintpicturesjustastheyalwayshavedone.They’llbeallright–Butoncepeoplelearntolovedestructionforitsownsake,evilleadershipgetsitschance.’
‘Yousay“they”or“them”.Whodoyoumean?’
‘WishIknew,’saidLadyMatilda.‘Yes,IwishIknew.Verymuchindeed.IfIhearanythinguseful,I’lltellyou.Thenyoucandosomethingaboutit.’
‘Unfortunately,Ihaven’tgotanyonetotell,Imeantopassitonto.’
‘Yes,don’tpassitontojustanyone.Youcan’ttrustpeople.Don’tpassitontoanyoneofthoseidiotsintheGovernment,orconnectedwithgovernmentorhopingtobeparticipatingingovernmentafterthislotrunsout.Politiciansdon’thavetimetolookattheworldthey’relivingin.Theyseethecountrythey’relivinginandtheyseeitasonevastelectoralplatform.That’squiteenoughtoputontheirplatesforthetimebeing.Theydothingswhichtheyhonestlybelievewillmakethingsbetterandthenthey’resurprisedwhentheydon’tmakethingsbetterbecausethey’renotthethingsthatpeoplewanttohave.Andonecan’thelpcomingtotheconclusionthatpoliticianshaveafeelingthattheyhaveakindofdivinerighttotellliesinagoodcause.It’snotreallysoverylongagosinceMrBaldwinmadehisfamousremark–‘IfIhadspokenthetruth,Ishouldhavelosttheelection.’PrimeMinistersstillfeellikethat.Nowandagainwehaveagreatman,thankGod.Butit’srare.’
‘Well,whatdoyousuggestoughttobedone?’
‘Areyouaskingmyadvice?Mine?DoyouknowhowoldIam?’
‘Gettingonforninety,’suggestedhernephew.
‘Notquiteasoldasthat,’saidLadyMatilda,slightlyaffronted.‘DoIlookit,mydearboy?’
‘No,darling.Youlookanice,comfortablesixty-six.’
‘That’sbetter,’saidLadyMatilda.‘Quiteuntrue.Butbetter.IfIgetatipofanykindfromoneofmydearoldadmiralsoranoldgeneralorevenpossiblyanairmarshal–theydohearthings,youknow–they’vegotcroniesstillandtheoldboysgettogetherandtalk.Andsoitgetsaround.There’salwaysbeenthegrapevineandtherestillisagrapevine,nomatterhowelderlythepeopleare.TheyoungSiegfried.Wewantacluetojustwhatthatmeans–Idon’tknowifhe’sapersonorapasswordorthenameofaCluboranewMessiahoraPopsinger.Butthattermcoverssomething.There’sthemusicalmotiftoo.I’veratherforgottenmyWagneriandays.’Heragedvoicecroakedoutapartiallyrecognizablemelody.‘Siegfried’shorncall,isn’tthatit?Getarecorder,whydon’tyou?DoImeanarecorder.Idon’tmeanarecordthatyouputonagramophone–Imeanthethingsthatschoolchildrenplay.Theyhaveclassesforthem.Wenttoatalktheotherday.Ourvicargotitup.Quiteinteresting.Youknow,tracingthehistoryoftherecorderandthekindofrecorderstherewerefromtheElizabethanageonwards.Somebig,somesmall,alldifferentnotesandsounds.Veryinteresting.Interestinghearingintwosenses.Therecordersthemselves.Someofthemgiveoutlovelynoises.Andthehistory.Yes.Well,whatwasIsaying?’
‘Youtoldmetogetoneoftheseinstruments,Igather.’
‘Yes.GetarecorderandlearntoblowSiegfried’shorncallonthat.You’remusical,youalwayswere.Youcanmanagethat,Ihope?’
‘Well,itseemsaverysmallparttoplayinthesalvationoftheworld,butIdaresayIcouldmanagethat.’
‘Andhavethethingready.Because,yousee–’shetappedonthetablewithherspectaclecase–‘youmightwantittoimpressthewrongpeoplesometime.Mightcomeinuseful.They’dwelcomeyouwithopenarmsandthenyoumightlearnabit.’
‘Youcertainlyhaveideas,’saidSirStaffordadmiringly.
‘Whatelsecanyouhavewhenyou’remyage?’saidhisgreat-aunt.‘Youcan’tgetabout.Youcan’tmeddlewithpeoplemuch,youcan’tdoanygardening.Allyoucandoissitinyourchairandhaveideas.Rememberthatwhenyou’refortyyearsolder.’
‘Oneremarkyoumadeinterestedme.’
‘Onlyone?’saidLadyMatilda.‘That’sratherpoormeasureconsideringhowmuchI’vebeentalking.Whatwasit?’
‘YousuggestedthatImightbecapableofimpressingthewrongpeoplewithmyrecorder–didyoumeanthat?’
‘Well,it’soneway,isn’tit?Therightpeopledon’tmatter.Butthewrongpeople–well,you’vegottofindoutthings,haven’tyou?You’vegottopermeatethings.Ratherlikeadeath-watchbeetle,’shesaidthoughtfully.
‘SoIshouldmakesignificantnoisesinthenight?’
‘Well,thatsortofthing,yes.Wehaddeath-watchbeetleintheeastwinghereonce.Veryexpensiveitwastoputitright.Idaresayitwillbejustasexpensivetoputtheworldright.’
‘Infactagooddealmoreexpensive,’saidStaffordNye.
‘Thatwon’tmatter,’saidLadyMatilda.‘Peoplenevermindspendingagreatdealofmoney.Itimpressesthem.It’swhenyouwanttodothingseconomically,theywon’tplay.We’rethesamepeople,youknow.Inthiscountry,Imean.We’rethesamepeoplewealwayswere.’
‘Whatdoyoumeanbythat?’
‘We’recapableofdoingbigthings.Weweregoodatrunninganempire.Weweren’tgoodatkeepinganempirerunning,butthenyouseewedidn’tneedanempireanymoreAndwerecognizedthat.Toodifficulttokeepup.Robbiemademeseethat,’sheadded.
‘Robbie?’Itwasfaintlyfamiliar.
‘RobbieShoreham.RobertShoreham.He’saveryoldfriendofmine.Paralyseddowntheleftside.Buthecantalkstillandhe’sgotamoderatelygoodhearing-aid.’
‘Besidesbeingoneofthemostfamousphysicistsintheworld,’saidStaffordNye.‘Sohe’sanotherofyouroldcronies,ishe?’
‘Knownhimsincehewasaboy,’saidLadyMatilda.‘Isupposeitsurprisesyouthatweshouldbefriends,havealotincommonandenjoytalkingtogether?’
‘Well,Ishouldn’thavethoughtthat–’
‘Thatwehadmuchtotalkabout?It’strueIcouldneverdomathematics.Fortunately,whenIwasagirlonedidn’teventry.MathematicscameeasilytoRobbiewhenhewasaboutfouryearsold,Ibelieve.Theysaynowadaysthatthat’squitenatural.He’sgotplentytotalkabout.HelikedmealwaysbecauseIwasfrivolousandmadehimlaugh.AndI’magoodlistener,too.Andreally,hesayssomeveryinterestingthingssometimes.’
‘SoIsuppose,’saidStaffordNyedrily.
‘Nowdon’tbesuperior.Molièremarriedhishousemaid,didn’the,andmadeagreatsuccessofit–ifitisMolièreImean.Ifaman’sfranticwithbrainshedoesn’treallywantawomanwho’salsofranticwithbrainstotalkto.Itwouldbeexhausting.He’dmuchpreferalovelynitwitwhocanmakehimlaugh.Iwasn’tbad-lookingwhenIwasyoung,’saidLadyMatildacomplacently.‘IknowIhavenoacademicdistinctions.I’mnotintheleastintellectual.ButRoberthasalwayssaidthatI’vegotagreatdealofcommonsense,ofintelligence.’
‘You’realovelyperson,’saidSirStaffordNye.‘IenjoycomingtoseeyouandIshallgoawayrememberingallthethingsyou’vesaidtome.Thereareagoodmanymorethings,Iexpect,thatyoucouldtellmebutyou’reobviouslynotgoingto.’
‘Notuntiltherightmomentcomes,’saidLadyMatilda,‘butI’vegotyourinterestsatheart.Letmeknowwhatyou’redoingfromtimetotime.You’rediningattheAmericanEmbassy,aren’tyou,nextweek?’
‘Howdidyouknowthat?I’vebeenasked.’
‘Andyou’veaccepted,Iunderstand.’
‘Well,it’sallinthecourseofduty.’Helookedathercuriously.‘Howdoyoumanagetobesowellinformed?’
‘Oh,Millytoldme.’
‘Milly?’
‘MillyJeanCortman.TheAmericanAmbassador’swife.Amostattractivecreature,youknow.Smallandratherperfect-looking.’
‘Oh,youmeanMildredCortman.’
‘ShewaschristenedMildredbutshepreferredMillyJean.IwastalkingtoheronthetelephoneaboutsomeCharityMatinéeorother–she’swhatweusedtocallapocketVenus.’
‘Amostattractivetermtouse,’saidStaffordNye.
Chapter8
AnEmbassyDinner
I
AsMrsCortmancametomeethimwithoutstretchedhand,StaffordNyerecalledthetermhisgreat-aunthadused.MillyJeanCortmanwasawomanofbetweenthirty-fiveandforty.Shehaddelicatefeatures,bigblue-greyeyes,averyperfectlyshapedheadwithbluish-greyhairtintedtoaparticularlyattractiveshadewhichfittedherwithaperfectionofgrooming.ShewasverypopularinLondon.Herhusband,SamCortman,wasabig,heavyman,slightlyponderous.Hewasveryproudofhiswife.Hehimselfwasoneofthoseslow,ratherover-emphatictalkers.Peoplefoundtheirattentionoccasionallystrayingwhenhewaselucidatingatsomelengthapointwhichhardlyneededmaking.
‘BackfromMalaya,aren’tyou,SirStafford?Itmusthavebeenquiteinterestingtogooutthere,thoughit’snotthetimeofyearI’dhavechosen.ButI’msurewe’reallgladtoseeyouback.Letmeseenow.YouknowLadyAldboroughandSirJohn,andHerrvonRoken,FrauvonRoken.MrandMrsStaggenham.’
TheywereallpeopleknowntoStaffordNyeinmoreorlessdegree.TherewasaDutchmanandhiswifewhomhehadnotmetbefore,sincetheyhadonlyjusttakenuptheirappointment.TheStaggenhamsweretheMinisterofSocialSecurityandhiswife.Aparticularlyuninterestingcouple,hehadalwaysthought.
‘AndtheCountessRenataZerkowski.Ithinkshesaidshe’dmetyoubefore.’
‘Itmustbeaboutayearago.WhenIwaslastinEngland,’saidtheCountess
Andthereshewas,thepassengerfromFrankfurtagain.Self-possessed,atease,beautifullyturnedoutinfaintgrey-bluewithatouchofchinchilla.Herhairdressedhigh(awig?)andarubycrossofantiquedesignroundherneck.
‘SignorGasparo,CountReitner,MrandMrsArbuthnot.’
Abouttwenty-sixinall.AtdinnerStaffordNyesatbetweenthedrearyMrsStaggenhamandSignoraGasparoontheothersideofhim.RenataZerkowskisatexactlyoppositehim.
AnEmbassydinner.Adinnersuchashesooftenattended,holdingmuchofthesametypeofguests.VariousmembersoftheDiplomaticCorps,juniorministers,oneortwoindustrialists,asprinklingofsocialitesusuallyincludedbecausetheyweregoodconversationalists,natural,pleasantpeopletomeet,thoughoneortwo,thoughtStaffordNye,oneortwoweremaybedifferent.EvenwhilehewasbusysustaininghisconversationwithSignoraGasparo,acharmingpersontotalkto,achatterbox,slightlyflirtatious;hismindwasrovinginthesamewaythathiseyealsoroved,thoughthelatterwasnotverynoticeable.Asitrovedroundthedinnertable,youwouldnothavesaidthathewassummingupconclusionsinhisownmind.Hehadbeenaskedhere.Why?Foranyreasonorfornoreasoninparticular.Becausehisnamehadcomeupautomaticallyonthelistthatthesecretariesproducedfromtimetotimewithchecksagainstsuchmembersaswereduefortheirturn.Orastheextramanortheextrawomanrequiredforthebalancingofthetable.Hehadalwaysbeeninrequestwhenanextrawasneeded.
‘Ohyes,’adiplomatichostesswouldsay,‘StaffordNyewilldobeautifully.YouwillputhimnexttoMadameSo-and-so,orLadySomebodyelse.’
Hehadbeenaskedperhapstofillinfornofurtherreasonthanthat.Andyet,hewondered.Heknewbyexperiencethattherewerecertainotherreasons.Andsohiseyewithitsswiftsocialamiability,itsairofnotlookingreallyatanythinginparticular,wasbusy.
Amongstthesegueststherewassomeoneperhapswhoforsomereasonmattered,wasimportant.Someonewhohadbeenasked–nottofillin–onthecontrary–someonewhohadhadaselectionofotherguestsinvitedtofitinroundhim–orher.Someonewhomattered.Hewondered–hewonderedwhichofthemitmightbe.
Cortmanknew,ofcourse.MillyJean,perhaps.Oneneverreallyknewwithwives.Someofthemwerebetterdiplomatsthantheirhusbands.Someofthemcouldberelieduponmerelyfortheircharm,fortheiradaptability,theirreadinesstoplease,theirlackofcuriosity.Someagain,hethoughtruefullytohimself,were,asfarastheirhusbandswereconcerned,disasters.Hostesseswho,thoughtheymayhavebroughtprestigeormoneytoadiplomaticmarriage,wereyetcapableatanymomentofsayingordoingthewrongthing,andcreatinganunfortunatesituation.Ifthatwastobeguardedagainst,itwouldneedoneoftheguests,ortwooreventhreeoftheguests,tobewhatonemightcallprofessionalsmoothers-over.
Didthisdinnerpartythiseveningmeananythingbutasocialevent?Hisquickandnoticingeyehadbynowbeenroundthedinnertablepickingoutoneortwopeoplewhomsofarhehadnotentirelytakenin.AnAmericanbusinessman.Pleasant,notsociallybrilliant.AprofessorfromoneoftheuniversitiesoftheMiddleWest.Amarriedcouple,thehusbandGerman,thewifepredominantly,almostaggressivelyAmerican.Averybeautifulwoman,too.Sexually,highlyattractive,SirStaffordthought.Wasoneofthemimportant?Initialsfloatedthroughhismind.FBI.CIA.ThebusinessmanperhapsaCIAman,thereforapurpose.Thingswerelikethatnowadays.Notastheyusedtobe.Howhadtheformulagone?BigBrotheriswatchingyou.Yes,wellitwentfurtherthanthatnow.TransatlanticCousiniswatchingyou.HighFinanceforMiddleEuropeiswatchingyou.Adiplomaticdifficultyhasbeenaskedhereforyoutowatchhim.Ohyes.Therewasoftenalotbehindthingsnowadays.Butwasthatjustanotherformula,justanotherfashion?Coulditreallymeanmorethanthat,somethingvital,somethingreal?HowdidonetalkofeventsinEuropenowadays?TheCommonMarket.Well,thatwasfairenough,thatdealtwithtrade,witheconomics,withtheinter-relationshipsofcountries.
Thatwasthestagetoset.Butbehindthestage.Back-stage.Waitingforthecue.Readytopromptifpromptingwereneeded.Whatwasgoingon?Goingoninthebigworldandbehindthebigworld.Hewondered.
Somethingsheknew,somethingsheguessedat,somethings,hethoughttohimself,Iknownothingaboutandnobodywantsmetoknowanythingaboutthem.
Hiseyesrestedforamomentonhisvis-à-vis,herchintiltedupward,hermouthjustgentlycurvedinapolitesmile,andtheireyesmet.Thoseeyestoldhimnothing,thesmiletoldhimnothing.Whatwasshedoinghere?Shewasinherelement,shefittedin,sheknewthisworld.Yes,shewasathomehere.Hecouldfindout,hethought,withoutmuchdifficultywhereshefiguredinthediplomaticworld,butwouldthattellhimwhereshereallyhadherplace?
TheyoungwomanintheslackswhohadspokentohimsuddenlyatFrankfurthadhadaneagerintelligentface.Wasthattherealwoman,orwasthiscasualsocialacquaintancetherealwoman?Wasoneofthosepersonalitiesapartbeingplayed?Andifso,whichone?Andtheremightbemorethanjustthosetwopersonalities.Hewondered.Hewantedtofindout.
Orhadthefactthathehadbeenaskedtomeetherbeenpurecoincidence?MillyJeanwasrisingtoherfeet.Theotherladiesrosewithher.Thensuddenlyanunexpectedclamourarose.Aclamourfromoutsidethehouse.Shouts.Yells.Thecrashofbreakingglassinawindow.Shouts.Sounds–surelypistolshots.SignoraGasparospoke,clutchingStaffordNye’sarm.
‘Whatagain!’sheexclaimed.‘Dio!–againitisthoseterriblestudents.Itisthesameinourcountry.WhydotheyattackEmbassies?Theyfight,resistthepolice–gomarching,shoutingidioticthings,liedowninthestreets.Si,si.WehavetheminRome–inMilan–WehavethemlikeapesteverywhereinEurope.Whyaretheyneverhappy,theseyoungones?Whatdotheywant?’
StaffordNyesippedhisbrandyandlistenedtotheheavyaccentsofMrCharlesStaggenham,whowasbeingpontificalandtakinghistimeaboutit.Thecommotionhadsubsided.Itwouldseemthatthepolicehadmarchedoffsomeofthehotheads.Itwasoneofthoseoccurrenceswhichoncewouldhavebeenthoughtextraordinaryandevenalarmingbutwhichwerenowtakenasamatterofcourse.
‘Alargerpoliceforce.That’swhatweneed.Alargerpoliceforce.It’smorethanthesechapscandealwith.It’sthesameeverywhere,theysay.IwastalkingtoHerrLurwitztheotherday.Theyhavetheirtroubles,sohavetheFrench.NotquitesomuchofitintheScandinaviancountries.Whatdotheyallwant–justtrouble?ItellyouifIhadmyway–’
StaffordNyeremovedhismindtoanothersubjectwhilekeepingupaflatteringpretenceasCharlesStaggenhamexplainedjustwhathiswaywouldbe,whichinanycasewaseasilytobeanticipatedbeforehand.
‘ShoutingaboutVietnamandallthat.WhatdoanyofthemknowaboutVietnam.Noneofthemhaveeverbeenthere,havethey?’
‘Onewouldthinkitveryunlikely,’saidSirStaffordNye.
‘Manwastellingmeearlierthisevening,they’vehadalotoftroubleinCalifornia.Intheuniversities–Ifwehadasensiblepolicy…’
Presentlythemenjoinedtheladiesinthedrawing-room.StaffordNye,movingwiththatleisurelygrace,thatairofcompletelackofpurposehefoundsouseful,satdownbyagolden-haired,talkativewomanwhomheknewmoderatelywell,andwhocouldbeguaranteedseldomtosayanythingworthlisteningtoasregardsideasorwit,butwhowasexcessivelyknowledgeableaboutallherfellowcreatureswithintheboundsofheracquaintance.StaffordNyeaskednodirectquestionsbutpresently,withouttheladybeingevenawareofthemeansbywhichhehadguidedthesubjectofconversation,hewashearingafewremarksabouttheCountessRenataZerkowski.
‘Stillverygood-lookingisn’tshe?Shedoesn’tcomeoverhereveryoftennowadays.MostlyNewYork,youknow,orthatwonderfulislandplace.YouknowtheoneImean.NotMinorca.OneoftheotheronesintheMediterranean.Hersister’smarriedtothatsoapking,atleastIthinkit’sasoapking.NottheGreekone.He’sSwedish,Ithink.Rollinginmoney.Andthenofcourse,shespendsalotoftimeinsomecastleplaceintheDolomites–ornearMunich–verymusical,shealwayshasbeen.Shesaidyou’dmetbefore,didn’tshe?’
‘Yes.Ayearortwoyearsago,Ithink.’
‘Ohyes,IsupposewhenshewasoverinEnglandbefore.TheysayshewasmixedupintheCzechoslovakianbusiness.OrdoImeanthePolishtrouble?Ohdear,it’ssodifficult,isn’tit.Allthenames,Imean.Theyhavesomanyz’sandk’s.Mostpeculiar,andsohardtospell.She’sveryliterary.Youknow,getsuppetitionsforpeopletosign.Togivewritersasylumhere,orwhateveritis.Notthatanyonereallypaysmuchattention.Imean,whatelsecanonethinkofnowadaysexcepthowonecanpossiblypayone’sowntaxes.Thetravelallowancemakesthingsalittlebetterbutnotmuch.Imean,you’vegottogetthemoney,haven’tyou,beforeyoucantakeitabroad.Idon’tknowhowanyonemanagestohavemoneynow,butthere’salotofitabout.Ohyes,there’salotofitabout.’
Shelookeddowninacomplacentfashionatherlefthand,onwhichweretwosolitairerings,oneadiamondandoneanemerald,whichseemedtoproveconclusivelythataconsiderableamountofmoneyhadbeenspentuponheratleast.
Theeveningdrewontoitsclose.HeknewverylittlemoreabouthispassengerfromFrankfurtthanhehadknownbefore.Heknewthatshehadafa?ade,afa?adeitseemedtohim,veryhighlyfaceted,ifyoucouldusethosetwoalliterativewordstogether.Shewasinterestedinmusic.Well,hehadmetherattheFestivalHall,hadhenot?Fondofoutdoorsports.RichrelationswhoownedMediterraneanislands.Giventosupportingliterarycharities.Somebodyinfactwhohadgoodconnections,waswellrelated,hadentriestothesocialfield.Notapparentlyhighlypoliticalandyet,quietlyperhaps,affiliatedtosomegroup.Someonewhomovedaboutfromplacetoplaceandcountrytocountry.Movingamongtherich,amongstthetalented,abouttheliteraryworld.
Hethoughtofespionageforamomentortwo.Thatseemedthemostlikelyanswer.Andyethewasnotwhollysatisfiedwithit.
Theeveningdrewon.Itcameatlasttobehisturntobecollectedbyhishostess.MillyJeanwasverygoodatherjob.
‘I’vebeenlongingtotalktoyouforages.IwantedtohearaboutMalaya.I’msostupidaboutalltheseplacesinAsia,youknow,Imixthemup.Tellme,whathappenedoutthere?Anythinginterestingorwaseverythingterriblyboring?’
‘I’msureyoucanguesstheanswertothatone.’
‘Well,Ishouldguessitwasveryboring.Butperhapsyou’renotallowedtosayso.’
‘Ohyes,Icanthinkit,andIcansayit.Itwasn’treallymycupoftea,youknow.’
‘Whydidyougothen?’
‘Ohwell,I’malwaysfondoftravelling,Ilikeseeingcountries.’
‘You’resuchanintriguingpersoninmanyways.Really,ofcourse,alldiplomaticlifeisveryboring,isn’tit?Ioughtn’ttosayso.Ionlysayittoyou.’
Veryblueeyes.Bluelikebluebellsinawood.Theyopenedalittlewiderandtheblackbrowsabovethemcamedowngentlyattheoutsidecornerswhiletheinsidecornerswentupalittle.ItmadeherfacelooklikearatherbeautifulPersiancat.HewonderedwhatMillyJeanwasreallylike.Hersoftvoicewasthatofasoutherner.Thebeautifullyshapedlittlehead,herprofilewiththeperfectionofacoin–whatwasshereallylike?Nofool,hethought.Onewhocouldusesocialweaponswhenneeded,whocouldcharmwhenshewishedto,whocouldwithdrawintobeingenigmatic.Ifshewantedanythingfromanyoneshewouldbeadroitingettingit.Henoticedtheintensityoftheglanceshewasgivinghimnow.Didshewantsomethingofhim?Hedidn’tknow.Hedidn’tthinkitcouldbelikely.Shesaid,‘HaveyoumetMrStaggenham?’
‘Ahyes.Iwastalkingtohimatthedinnertable.Ihadn’tmethimbefore.’
‘Heissaidtobeveryimportant,’saidMillyJean.‘He’sthePresidentofPBFasyouknow.’
‘Oneshouldknowallthosethings,’saidSirStaffordNye.‘PBFandDCV.LYH.Andalltheworldofinitials.’
‘Hateful,’saidMillyJean.‘Hateful.Alltheseinitials,nopersonalities,nopeopleanymore.Justinitials.Whatahatefulworld!That’swhatIsometimesthink.Whatahatefulworld.Iwantittobedifferent,quite,quitedifferent–’
Didshemeanthat?Hethoughtforonemomentthatperhapsshedid.Interesting…
II
GrosvenorSquarewasquietnessitself.Thereweretracesofbrokenglassstillonthepavements.Therewereeveneggs,squashedtomatoesandfragmentsofgleamingmetal.Butabove,thestarswerepeaceful.CaraftercardroveuptotheEmbassydoortocollectthehome-goingguests.Thepolicewerethereinthecornersofthesquarebutwithoutostentation.Everythingwasundercontrol.Oneofthepoliticalguestsleavingspoketooneofthepoliceofficers.Hecamebackandmurmured,‘Nottoomanyarrests.Eight.They’llbeupatBowStreetinthemorning.Moreorlesstheusuallot.Petronellawashere,ofcourse,andStephenandhiscrowd.Ahwell.Onewouldthinkthey’dgettiredofitoneofthesedays.’
‘Youlivenotveryfarfromhere,don’tyou?’saidavoiceinSirStaffordNye’sear.Adeepcontraltovoice.‘Icandropyouonmyway.’
‘No,no.Icanwalkperfectly.It’sonlytenminutesorso.’
‘Itwillbenotroubletome,Iassureyou,’saidtheCountessZerkowski.Sheadded,‘I’mstayingattheStJames’sTower.’
TheStJames’sTowerwasoneofthenewerhotels.
‘Youareverykind.’
Itwasabig,expensive-lookinghirecarthatwaited.Thechauffeuropenedthedoor,theCountessRenatagotinandSirStaffordNyefollowedher.ItwasshewhogaveSirStaffordNye’saddresstothechauffeur.Thecardroveoff.
‘SoyouknowwhereIlive?’hesaid.
‘Whynot?’
Hewonderedjustwhatthatanswermeant:Whynot?
‘Whynotindeed,’hesaid.‘Youknowsomuch,don’tyou?’Headded,‘Itwaskindofyoutoreturnmypassport.’
‘Ithoughtitmightsavecertaininconveniences.Itmightbesimplerifyouburntit.You’vebeenissuedwithanewone,Ipresume–’
‘Youpresumecorrectly.’
‘Yourbandit’scloakyouwillfindinthebottomdrawerofyourtallboy.Itwasputtheretonight.Ibelievedthatperhapstopurchaseanotheronewouldnotsatisfyyou,andindeedthattofindonesimilarmightnotbepossible.’
‘Itwillmeanmoretomenowthatithasbeenthroughcertain–adventures,’saidStaffordNye.Headded,‘Ithasserveditspurpose.’
Thecarpurredthroughthenight.
TheCountessZerkowskisaid:
‘Yes.IthasserveditspurposesinceIamhere–alive…’
SirStaffordNyesaidnothing.Hewasassuming,rightlyornot,thatshewantedhimtoaskquestions,topressher,toknowmoreofwhatshehadbeendoing,ofwhatfateshehadescaped.Shewantedhimtodisplaycuriosity,butSirStaffordNyewasnotgoingtodisplaycuriosity.Heratherenjoyednotdoingso.Heheardherlaughverygently.Yethefancied,rathersurprisingly,thatitwasapleasedlaugh,alaughofsatisfaction,notofstalemate.
‘Didyouenjoyyourevening?’shesaid.
‘Agoodparty,Ithink,butMillyJeanalwaysgivesgoodparties.’
‘Youknowherwellthen?’
‘IknewherwhenshewasagirlinNewYorkbeforeshemarried.ApocketVenus.’
Shelookedathiminfaintsurprise.
‘Isthatyourtermforher?’
‘Actually,no.Itwassaidtomebyanelderlyrelativeofmine.’
‘Yes,itisn’tadescriptionthatonehearsgivenoftenofawomannowadays.Itfitsher,Ithink,verywell.Only–’
‘Onlywhat?’
‘Venusisseductive,isshenot?Isshealsoambitious?’
‘YouthinkMillyJeanCortmanisambitious?’
‘Ohyes.Thataboveall.’
‘AndyouthinktobethewifeoftheAmbassadortoStJames’sisinsufficienttosatisfyambition?’
‘Ohno,’saidtheCountess.‘Thatisonlythebeginning.’
Hedidnotanswer.Hewaslookingoutthroughthecarwindow.Hebegantospeak,thenstoppedhimself.Henotedherquickglanceathim,butshetoowassilent.ItwasnottilltheyweregoingoverabridgewiththeThamesbelowthemthathesaid:
‘SoyouarenotgivingmealifthomeandyouarenotgoingbacktotheStJames’sTower.WearecrossingtheThames.Wemetthereoncebefore,crossingabridge.Whereareyoutakingme?’
‘Doyoumind?’
‘IthinkIdo.’
‘Yes,Icanseeyoumight.’
‘Wellofcourseyouarequiteinthemode.Hi-jackingisthefashionnowadays,isn’tit?Youhavehi-jackedme.Why?’
‘Because,likeoncebefore,Ihaveneedofyou.’Sheadded,‘Andothershaveneedofyou.’
‘Indeed.’
‘Andthatdoesnotpleaseyou.’
‘Itwouldpleasemebettertobeasked.’
‘IfIhadasked,wouldyouhavecome?’
‘Perhapsyes,perhapsno.’
‘Iamsorry.’
‘Iwonder.’
Theydroveonthroughthenightinsilence.Itwasnotadrivethroughlonelycountry,theywereonamainroad.NowandthenthelightspickedupanameorasignpostsothatStaffordNyesawquiteclearlywheretheirroutelay.ThroughSurreyandthroughthefirstresidentialportionsofSussex.Occasionallyhethoughttheytookadetourorasideroadwhichwasnotthemostdirectroute,butevenofthishecouldnotbesure.HealmostaskedhiscompanionwhetherthiswasbeingdonebecausetheymightpossiblyhavebeenfollowedfromLondon.Buthehaddeterminedratherfirmlyonhispolicyofsilence.Itwasforhertospeak,forhertogiveinformation.Hefoundher,evenwiththeadditionalinformationhehadbeenabletoget,anenigmaticcharacter.
TheyweredrivingtothecountryafteradinnerpartyinLondon.Theywere,hewasprettysure,inoneofthemoreexpensivetypesofhirecar.Thiswassomethingplannedbeforehand.Reasonable,nothingdoubtfulorunexpectedaboutit.Soon,heimagined,hewouldfindoutwhereitwastheyweregoing.Unless,thatis,theyweregoingtodriveasfarasthecoast.Thatalsowaspossible,hethought.Haslemere,hesawonasignpost.NowtheywereskirtingGodalming.Allveryplainandaboveboard.Therichcountrysideofmoneyedsuburbia.Agreeablewoods,handsomeresidences.Theytookafewsideturnsandthenasthecarfinallyslowed,theyseemedtobearrivingattheirdestination.Gates.Asmallwhitelodgebythegates.Upadrive,well-keptrhododendronsoneithersideofit.Theyturnedroundabendanddrewupbeforeahouse.‘StockbrokerTudor,’murmuredSirStaffordNye,underhisbreath.Hiscompanionturnedherheadinquiringly.
‘Justacomment,’saidStaffordNye.‘Paynoattention.Itakeitwearenowarrivingatthedestinationofyourchoice?’
‘Andyoudon’tadmirethelookofitverymuch.’
‘Thegroundsseemwell-keptup,’saidSirStafford,followingthebeamoftheheadlightsasthecarroundedthebend.‘Takesmoneytokeeptheseplacesupandingoodorder.Ishouldsaythiswasacomfortablehousetolivein.’
‘Comfortablebutnotbeautiful.Themanwholivesinitpreferscomforttobeauty,Ishouldsay.’
‘Perhapswisely,’saidSirStafford.‘Andyetinsomewaysheisveryappreciativeofbeauty,ofsomekindsofbeauty.’
Theydrewupbeforethewell-lightedporch.SirStaffordgotoutandtenderedanarmtohelphiscompanion.Thechauffeurhadmountedthestepsandpressedthebell.Helookedinquiringlyatthewomanassheascendedthesteps.
‘Youwon’tberequiringmeagaintonight,m’lady?’
‘No.That’sallfornow.We’lltelephonedowninthemorning.’
‘Goodnight.Goodnight,sir.’
Therewerefootstepsinsideandthedoorwasflungopen.SirStaffordhadexpectedsomekindofbutler,butinsteadtherewasatallgrenadierofaparlour-maid.Grey-haired,tight-lipped,eminentlyreliableandcompetent,hethought.Aninvaluableassetandhardtofindnowadays.Trustworthy,capableofbeingfierce.
‘Iamafraidwearealittlelate,’saidRenata.
‘Themasterisinthelibrary.Heaskedthatyouandthegentlemanshouldcometohimtherewhenyouarrived.’
Chapter9
TheHouseNearGodalming
Sheledthewayupthebroadstaircaseandthetwoofthemfollowedher.Yes,thoughtStaffordNye,averycomfortablehouse.Jacobeanpaper,amostunsightlycarvedoakstaircasebutpleasantlyshallowtreads.Picturesnicelychosenbutofnoparticularartisticinterest.Arichman’shouse,hethought.Aman,notofbadtaste,amanofconventionaltastes.Goodthickpilecarpetofanagreeableplum-colouredtexture.
Onthefirstfloor,thegrenadier-likeparlour-maidwenttothefirstdooralongit.Sheopeneditandstoodbacktoletthemgoinbutshemadenoannouncementofnames.TheCountesswentinfirstandSirStaffordNyefollowedher.Heheardthedoorshutquietlybehindhim.
Therewerefourpeopleintheroom.Sittingbehindalargedeskwhichwaswellcoveredwithpapers,documents,anopenmaportwoandpresumablyotherpaperswhichwereinthecourseofdiscussion,wasalarge,fatmanwithaveryyellowface.ItwasafaceSirStaffordNyehadseenbefore,thoughhecouldnotforthemomentattachthepropernametoit.Itwasamanwhomhehadmetonlyinacasualfashion,andyettheoccasionhadbeenanimportantone.Heshouldknow,yes,definitelyheshouldknow.Butwhy–whywouldn’tthenamecome?
Withaslightstruggle,thefiguresittingatthedeskrosetohisfeet.HetooktheCountessRenata’soutstretchedhand.
‘You’vearrived,’hesaid,‘splendid.’
‘Yes.Letmeintroduceyou,thoughIthinkyoualreadyknowhim.SirStaffordNye,MrRobinson.’
Ofcourse.InSirStaffordNye’sbrainsomethingclickedlikeacamera.Thatfittedin,too,withanothername.Pikeaway.TosaythatheknewallaboutMrRobinsonwasnottrue.HeknewaboutMrRobinsonallthatMrRobinsonpermittedtobeknown.Hisname,asfarasanyoneknew,wasRobinson,thoughitmighthavebeenanynameofforeignorigin.Noonehadeversuggestedanythingofthatkind.Recognitioncamealsoofhispersonalappearance.Thehighforehead,themelancholydarkeyes,thelargegenerousmouth,andtheimpressivewhiteteeth–falseteeth,presumably,butatanyrateteethofwhichitmighthavebeensaid,likeinRedRidingHood,‘thebettertoeatyouwith,child!’
Heknew,too,whatMrRobinsonstoodfor.Justonesimpleworddescribedit.MrRobinsonrepresentedMoneywithacapitalM.Moneyinitseveryaspect.Internationalmoney,world-widemoney,privatehomefinances,banking,moneynotinthewaythattheaveragepersonlookedatit.Youneverthoughtofhimasaveryrichman.Undoubtedlyhewasaveryrichmanbutthatwasn’ttheimportantthing.Hewasoneofthearrangersofmoney,thegreatclanofbankers.Hispersonaltastesmightevenhavebeensimple,butSirStaffordNyedoubtediftheywere.Areasonablestandardofcomfort,evenluxury,wouldbeMrRobinson’swayoflife.Butnotmorethanthat.Sobehindallthismysteriousbusinesstherewasthepowerofmoney.
‘Iheardofyoujustadayortwoago,’saidMrRobinson,asheshookhands,‘fromourfriendPikeaway,youknow.’
Thatfittedin,thoughtStaffordNye,becausenowherememberedthatonthesolitaryoccasionbeforethathehadmetMrRobinson,ColonelPikeawayhadbeenpresent.Horsham,heremembered,hadspokenofMrRobinson.SonowtherewasMaryAnn(ortheCountessZerkowski?)andColonelPikeawaysittinginhisownsmoke-filledroomwithhiseyeshalfclosedeithergoingtosleeporjustwakingup,andtherewasMrRobinsonwithhislarge,yellowface,andsotherewasmoneyatstakesomewhere,andhisglanceshiftedtothethreeotherpeopleintheroombecausehewantedtoseeifheknewwhotheywereandwhattheyrepresented,orifhecouldguess.
Intwocasesatleasthedidn’tneedtoguess.Themanwhosatinthetallporter’schairbythefireplace,anelderlyfigureframedbythechairasapictureframemighthaveframedhim,wasafacethathadbeenwellknownalloverEngland.Indeed,itstillwaswellknown,althoughitwasveryseldomseennowadays.Asickman,aninvalid,amanwhomadeverybriefappearances,andthenitwassaid,atphysicalcosttohimselfinpainanddifficulty.LordAltamount.Athinemaciatedface,outstandingnose,greyhairwhichrecededjustalittlefromtheforehead,andthenflowedbackinathickgreymane;somewhatprominentearsthatcartoonistshadusedintheirtime,andadeeppiercingglancethatnotsomuchobservedasprobed.Probeddeeplyintowhatitwaslookingat.AtthemomentitwaslookingatSirStaffordNye.HestretchedoutahandasStaffordNyewenttowardshim.
‘Idon’tgetup,’saidLordAltamount.Hisvoicewasfaint,anoldman’svoice,afar-awayvoice.‘Mybackdoesn’tallowme.JustcomebackfromMalaya,haven’tyou,StaffordNye?’
‘Yes.’
‘Wasitworthyourgoing?Iexpectyouthinkitwasn’t.You’reprobablyright,too.Still,wehavetohavetheseexcrescencesinlife,theseornamentaltrimmingstoadornthebetterkindofdiplomaticlies.I’mgladyoucouldcomehereorwerebroughtheretonight.MaryAnn’sdoing,Isuppose?’
Sothat’swhathecallsherandthinksofheras,thoughtStaffordNyetohimself.ItwaswhatHorshamhadcalledher.Shewasinwiththemthen,withoutadoubt.AsforAltamount,hestoodfor–whatdidhestandfornowadays?StaffordNyethoughttohimself.HestandsforEngland.HestillstandsforEnglanduntilhe’sburiedinWestminsterAbbeyoracountrymausoleum,whateverhechooses.HehasbeenEngland,andheknowsEngland,andIshouldsayheknowsthevalueofeverypoliticianandgovernmentofficialinEnglandprettywell,evenifhe’sneverspokentothem.
LordAltamountsaid:
‘Thisisourcolleague,SirJamesKleek.’
StaffordNyedidn’tknowKleek.Hedidn’tthinkhe’devenheardofhim.Arestless,fidgetytype.Sharp,suspiciousglancesthatneverrestedanywhereforlong.Hehadthecontainedeagernessofasportingdogawaitingthewordofcommand.Readytostartoffataglancefromhismaster’seye.
Butwhowashismaster?AltamountorRobinson?
Stafford’seyewentroundtothefourthman.Hehadrisentohisfeetfromthechairwherehehadbeensittingclosetothedoor.Bushymoustache,raisedeyebrows,watchful,withdrawn,managinginsomewaytoremainfamiliaryetalmostunrecognizable.
‘Soit’syou,’saidSirStaffordNye,‘howareyou,Horsham?’
‘Verypleasedtoseeyouhere,SirStafford.’
Quitearepresentativegathering,StaffordNyethought,withaswiftglanceround.
TheyhadsetachairforRenatanotfarfromthefireandLordAltamount.Shehadstretchedoutahand–herlefthand,henoticed–andhehadtakenitbetweenhistwohands,holdingitforaminute,thendroppingit.Hesaid:
‘Youtookrisks,child,youtaketoomanyrisks.’
Lookingathim,shesaid,‘Itwasyouwhotaughtmethat,andit’stheonlywayoflife.’
LordAltamountturnedhisheadtowardsSirStaffordNye.
‘Itwasn’tIwhotaughtyoutochooseyourman.You’vegotanaturalgeniusforthat.’LookingatStaffordNye,hesaid,‘Iknowyourgreat-aunt,oryourgreat-great-aunt,isshe?’
‘Great-AuntMatilda,’saidStaffordNyeimmediately.
‘Yes.That’stheone.OneoftheVictoriantours-de-forceofthe’nineties.Shemustbenearlyninetyherselfnow.’
Hewenton:
‘Idon’tseeherveryoften.Onceortwiceayearperhaps.Butitstrikesmeeverytime–thatsheervitalityofhersthatoutlivesherbodilystrength.Theyhavethesecretofthat,thoseindomitableVictoriansandsomeoftheEdwardiansaswell.’
SirJamesKleeksaid,‘Letmegetyouadrink,Nye?Whatwillyouhave?’
‘Ginandtonic,ifImay.’
TheCountessrefusedwithasmallshakeofthehead.
JamesKleekbroughtNyehisdrinkandsetitonthetablenearMrRobinson.StaffordNyewasnotgoingtospeakfirst.Thedarkeyesbehindthedesklosttheirmelancholyforamoment.Theyhadquitesuddenlyatwinkleinthem.
‘Anyquestions?’hesaid.
‘Toomany,’saidSirStaffordNye.‘Wouldn’titbebettertohaveexplanationsfirst,questionslater?’
‘Isthatwhatyou’dlike?’
‘Itmightsimplifymatters.’
‘Well,westartwithafewplainstatementsoffacts.Youmayoryoumaynothavebeenaskedtocomehere.Ifnot,thatfactmayrankleslightly.’
‘Hepreferstobeaskedalways,’saidtheCountess.‘Hesaidasmuchtome.’
‘Naturally,’saidMrRobinson.
‘Iwashi-jacked,’saidStaffordNye.‘Veryfashionable,Iknow.Oneofourmoremodernmethods.’
Hekepthistoneoneoflightamusement
‘Whichinvites,surely,aquestionfromyou,’saidMrRobinson.
‘Justonesmallwordofthreeletters.Why?’
‘Quiteso.Why?Iadmireyoureconomyofspeech.Thisisaprivatecommittee–acommitteeofinquiry.Aninquiryofworld-widesignificance.’
‘Soundsinteresting,’saidSirStaffordNye.
‘Itismorethaninteresting.Itispoignantandimmediate.Fourdifferentwaysoflifearerepresentedinthisroomtonight,’saidLordAltamount.‘Werepresentdifferentbranches.Ihaveretiredfromactiveparticipationintheaffairsofthiscountry,butIamstillaconsultingauthority.IhavebeenconsultedandaskedtopresideoverthisparticularinquiryastowhatisgoingonintheworldinthisparticularyearofourLord,becausesomethingisgoingon.James,here,hashisownspecialtask.Heismyright-handman.Heisalsoourspokesman.Explainthegeneralset-out,ifyouwill,Jamie,toSirStaffordhere.’
ItseemedtoStaffordNyethatthegundogquivered.Atlast!AtlastIcanspeakandgetonwithit!Heleanedforwardalittleinhischair.
‘Ifthingshappenintheworld,youhavetolookforacauseforthem.Theoutwardsignsarealwayseasytoseebutthey’renot,orsotheChairman–’hebowedtoLordAltamount–‘andMrRobinsonandMrHorshambelieve,important.It’salwaysbeenthesameway.Youtakeanaturalforce,agreatfallofwaterthatwillgiveyouturbinepower.Youtakethediscoveryofuraniumfrompitchblende,andthatwillgiveyouinduecoursenuclearpowerthathadnotbeendreamtoforknown.Whenyoufoundcoalandminerals,theygaveyoutransport,power,energy.Thereareforcesatworkalwaysthatgiveyoucertainthings.Butbehindeachofthemthereissomeonewhocontrolsit.You’vegottofindwho’scontrollingthepowersthatareslowlygainingascendancyinpracticallyeverycountryinEurope,furtherafieldstillinpartsofAsia.Less,possibly,inAfrica,butagainintheAmericancontinentsbothnorthandsouth.You’vegottogetbehindthethingsthatarehappeningandfindoutthemotiveforcethat’smakingthemhappen.Onethingthatmakesthingshappenismoney.’
HenoddedtowardsMrRobinson.
‘MrRobinson,there,knowsasmuchaboutmoneyasanybodyintheworld,Isuppose.’
‘It’squitesimple,’saidMrRobinson.‘Therearebigmovementsafoot.Therehastobemoneybehindthem.We’vegottofindoutwherethatmoney’scomingfrom.Who’soperatingwithit?Wheredotheygetitfrom?Wherearetheysendingitto?Why?It’squitetruewhatJamessays:Iknowalotaboutmoney!Asmuchasanymanaliveknowstoday.Thentherearewhatyoumightcalltrends.It’sawordweuseagooddealnowadays!Trendsortendencies–thereareinnumerablewordsoneuses.Theymeannotquitethesamething,butthey’reinrelationshipwitheachother.Atendency,shallwesay,torebellionshowsup.Lookbackthroughhistory.You’llfinditcomingagainandagain,repeatingitselflikeaperiodictable,repeatingapattern.Adesireforrebellion,themeansofrebellion,theformtherebelliontakes.It’snotathingparticulartoanyparticularcountry.Ifitarisesinonecountry,itwillariseinothercountriesinlessormoredegrees.That’swhatyoumean,sir,isn’tit?’HehalfturnedtowardsLordAltamount.‘That’sthewayyoumoreorlessputittome.’
‘Yes,you’reexpressingthingsverywell,James.’
‘It’sapattern,apatternthatarisesandseemsinevitable.Youcanrecognizeitwhereyoufindit.Therewasaperiodwhenayearningtowardscrusadessweptcountries.AlloverEuropepeopleembarkedinships,theywentofftodelivertheHolyLand.Allquiteclear,aperfectlygoodpatternofdeterminedbehaviour.Butwhydidtheygo?That’stheinterestofhistory,youknow.Seeingwhythesedesiresandpatternsarise.It’snotalwaysamaterialisticanswereither.Allsortsofthingscancauserebellion,adesireforfreedom,freedomofspeech,freedomofreligiousworship,againaseriesofcloselyrelatedpatterns.Itledpeopletoembraceemigrationtoothercountries,toformationofnewreligionsveryoftenasfulloftyrannyastheformsofreligiontheyhadleftbehind.Butinallthis,ifyoulookhardenough,ifyoumakeenoughinvestigations,youcanseewhatstartedtheonsetoftheseandmanyother–I’llusethesameword–patterns.Insomewaysit’slikeavirusdisease.Theviruscanbecarried–roundtheworld,acrossseas,upmountains.Itcangoandinfect.Itgoesapparentlywithoutbeingsetinmotion.Butonecan’tbesure,evennow,thatthatwasalwaysreallytrue.Therecouldhavebeencauses.Causesthatmadethingshappen.Onecangoafewstepsfurther.Therearepeople.Oneperson–tenpersons–afewhundredpersonswhoarecapableofbeingandsettinginmotionacause.Soitisnottheendprocessthatonehastolookat.Itisthefirstpeoplewhosetthecauseinmotion.Youhaveyourcrusaders,youhaveyourreligiousenthusiasts,youhaveyourdesiresforliberty,youhavealltheotherpatternsbutyou’vegottogofurtherbackstill.Furtherbacktoahinterland.Visions,dreams.TheprophetJoelknewitwhenhewrote“Youroldmenshalldreamdreams,youryoungmenshallseevisions.”Andofthosetwo,whicharethemorepowerful?Dreamsarenotdestructive.Butvisionscanopennewworldstoyou–andvisionscanalsodestroytheworldsthatalreadyexist…’
JamesKleekturnedsuddenlytowardsLordAltamount.‘Idon’tknowifitconnectsup,sir,’hesaid,‘butyoutoldmeastoryonceofsomebodyintheEmbassyatBerlin.Awoman.’
‘Ohthat?Yes,Ifounditinterestingatthetime.Yes,ithasabearingonwhatwearetalkingaboutnow.OneoftheEmbassywives,clever,intelligentwoman,welleducated.ShewasveryanxioustogopersonallyandheartheFührerspeak.Iamtalking,ofcourse,ofatimeimmediatelyprecedingthe1939war.Shewascurioustoknowwhatoratorycoulddo.Whywaseveryonesoimpressed?Andsoshewent.Shecamebackandsaid,“It’sextraordinary.Iwouldn’thavebelievedit.OfcourseIdon’tunderstandGermanverywellbutIwascarriedaway,too.AndIseenowwhyeveryoneis.Imean,hisideaswerewonderful…Theyinflamedyou.Thethingshesaid.Imean,youjustfelttherewasnootherwayofthinking,thatawholenewworldwouldhappenifonlyonefollowedhim.Oh,Ican’texplainproperly.I’mgoingtowritedownasmuchasIcanremember,andthenifIbringittoyoutosee,you’llseebetterthanmyjusttryingtotellyoutheeffectithad.”
‘Itoldherthatwasaverygoodidea.Shecametomethenextdayandshesaid,“Idon’tknowifyou’llbelievethis.IstartedtowritedownthethingsI’dheard,thethingsHitlerhadsaid.Whatthey’dmeant–but–itwasfrightening–therewasn’tanythingtowritedownatall,Ididn’tseemabletorememberasinglestimulatingorexcitingsentence.Ihavesomeofthewords,butitdoesn’tseemtomeanthesamethingsaswhenIwrotethemdown.Theyarejust–oh,theyarejustmeaningless.Idon’tunderstand.’
‘Thatshowsyouoneofthegreatdangersonedoesn’talwaysremember,butitexists.Therearepeoplecapableofcommunicatingtoothersawildenthusiasm,akindofvisionoflifeandofhappening.Theycandothatthoughitisnotreallybywhattheysay,itisnotthewordsyouhear,itisnoteventheideadescribed.It’ssomethingelse.It’sthemagneticpowerthataveryfewmenhaveofstartingsomething,ofproducingandcreatingavision.Bytheirpersonalmagnetismperhaps,atoneofvoice,perhapssomeemanationthatcomesforthstraightfromtheflesh.Idon’tknow,butitexists
‘Suchpeoplehavepower.Thegreatreligiousteachershadthispower,andsohasanevilspiritpoweralso.Beliefcanbecreatedinacertainmovement,incertainthingstobedone,thingsthatwillresultinanewheavenandanewearth,andpeoplewillbelieveitandworkforitandfightforitandevendieforit.’
Heloweredhisvoiceashesaid:‘JanSmutsputsitinaphrase.HesaidLeadership,besidesbeingagreatcreativeforce,canbediabolical.’
StaffordNyemovedinhischair.
‘Iunderstandwhatyoumean.Itisinterestingwhatyousay.Icanseeperhapsthatitmightbetrue.’
‘Butyouthinkit’sexaggerated,ofcourse.’
‘Idon’tknowthatIdo,’saidStaffordNye.‘Thingsthatsoundexaggeratedareveryoftennotexaggeratedatall.Theyareonlythingsthatyouhaven’theardsaidbeforeorthoughtaboutbefore.Andthereforetheycometoyouassounfamiliarthatyoucanhardlydoanythingaboutthemexceptacceptthem.Bytheway,mayIaskasimplequestion?Whatdoesonedoaboutthem?’
‘Ifyoucomeacrossthesuspicionthatthissortofthingisgoingon,youmustfindoutaboutthem,’saidLordAltamount.‘You’vegottogolikeKipling’smongoose:Goandfindout.Findoutwherethemoneycomesfromandwheretheideasarecomingfrom,andwhere,ifImaysayso,themachinerycomesfrom.Whoisdirectingthemachinery?There’sachiefofstaff,youknow,aswellasacommander-in-chief.That’swhatwe’retryingtodo.We’dlikeyoutocomeandhelpus.’
ItwasoneoftherareoccasionsinhislifewhenSirStaffordNyewastakenaback.Whateverhemayhavefeltonsomeformeroccasions,hehadalwaysmanagedtoconcealthefact.Butthistimeitwasdifferent.Helookedfromonetotheotherofthemenintheroom.AtMrRobinson,impassivelyyellow-facedwithhismouthfulofteethdisplayed;toSirJamesKleek,asomewhatbrashtalker,SirStaffordNyehadconsideredhim,butneverthelesshehadobviouslyhisuses;Master’sdog,hecalledhiminhisownmind.HelookedatLordAltamount,thehoodoftheporter’schairframedroundhishead.Thelightingwasnotstrongintheroom.Itgavehimthelookofasaintinanicheinacathedralsomewhere.Ascetic.Fourteenth-century.Agreatman.Yes,Altamounthadbeenoneofthegreatmenofthepast.StaffordNyehadnodoubtofthat,buthewasnowaveryoldman.Hence,hesupposed,thenecessityforSirJamesKleek,andLordAltamount’srelianceonhim.Helookedpastthemtotheenigmatic,coolcreaturewhohadbroughthimhere,theCountessRenataZerkowskialiasMaryAnn,aliasDaphneTheodofanous.Herfacetoldhimnothing.Shewasnotevenlookingathim.HiseyescameroundlasttoMrHenryHorshamofSecurity.
WithfaintsurpriseheobservedthatHenryHorshamwasgrinningathim.
‘Butlookhere,’saidStaffordNye,droppingallformallanguage,andspeakingratherliketheschoolboyofeighteenhehadoncebeen.‘WhereonearthdoIcomein?WhatdoIknow?Quitefrankly,I’mnotdistinguishedinanywayinmyownprofession,youknow.Theydon’tthinkverymuchofmeattheFO.Neverhave.’
‘Weknowthat,’saidLordAltamount.
ItwasSirJamesKleek’sturntogrinandhedidso.
‘Allthebetterperhaps,’heremarked,andaddedapologeticallyasLordAltamountfrownedathim,‘Sorry,sir.’
‘Thisisacommitteeofinvestigation,’saidMrRobinson.‘Itisnotaquestionofwhatyouhavedoneinthepast,ofwhatotherpeople’sopinionofyoumaybe.Whatwearedoingistorecruitacommitteetoinvestigate.Therearenotverymanyofusatthemomentformingthiscommittee.Weaskyoutojoinitbecausewethinkthatyouhavecertainqualitieswhichmayhelpinaninvestigation.’
StaffordNyeturnedhisheadtowardstheSecurityman.‘Whataboutit,Horsham?’hesaid.‘Ican’tbelieveyou’dagreewiththat?’
‘Whynot?’saidHenryHorsham.
‘Indeed?Whataremy“qualities”,asyoucallthem?Ican’t,quitefrankly,believeinthemmyself.’
‘You’renotahero-worshipper,’saidHorsham.‘That’swhy.You’rethekindwhoseesthroughhumbug.Youdon’ttakeanyoneattheirownortheworld’svaluation.Youtakethematyourownvaluation.’
Cen’estpasungar?onsérieux.ThewordsfloatedthroughSirStaffordNye’smind.Acuriousreasonforwhichtobechosenforadifficultandexactingjob.
‘I’vegottowarnyou,’hesaid,‘thatmyprincipalfault,andonethat’sbeenfrequentlynoticedaboutmeandwhichhascostmeseveralgoodjobsis,Ithink,fairlywellknown.I’mnot,Ishouldsay,asufficientlyserioussortofchapforanimportantjoblikethis.’
‘Believeitornot,’saidMrHorsham,‘that’soneofthereasonswhytheywantyou.I’mright,mylord,aren’tI?’HelookedtowardsLordAltamount.
‘Publicservice!’saidLordAltamount.‘Letmetellyouthatveryoftenoneofthemostseriousdisadvantagesinpubliclifeiswhenpeopleinapublicpositiontakethemselvestooseriously.Wefeelthatyouwon’t.Anyway,’hesaid,‘MaryAnnthinksso.’
SirStaffordNyeturnedhishead.Sohereshewas,nolongeracountess.ShehadbecomeMaryAnnagain.
‘Youdon’tmindmyasking,’hesaid,‘butwhoareyoureally?Imean,areyouarealcountess.’
‘Absolutely.Geboren,astheGermanssay.Myfatherwasamanofpedigree,agoodsportsman,asplendidshot,andhadaveryromanticbutsomewhatdilapidatedcastleinBavaria.It’sstillthere,thecastle.Asfarasthatgoes,IhaveconnectionswiththatlargeportionoftheEuropeanworldwhichisstillheavilysnobbishasfarasbirthisconcerned.ApoorandshabbycountesssitsdownfirstatthetablewhilstarichAmericanwithafabulousfortuneindollarsinthebankiskeptwaiting.’
‘WhataboutDaphneTheodofanous?Wheredoesshecomein?’
‘Ausefulnameforapassport.MymotherwasGreek.’
‘AndMaryAnn?’
ItwasalmostthefirstsmileStaffordNyehadseenonherface.HereyeswenttoLordAltamountandfromhimtoMrRobinson.
‘Perhaps,’shesaid,‘becauseI’makindofmaid-of-all-work,goingplaces,lookingforthings,takingthingsfromonecountrytoanother,sweepingunderthemat,doanything,goanywhere,clearupthemess.’ShelookedtowardsLordAltamountagain.‘AmIright,UncleNed?’
‘Quiteright,mydear.MaryAnnyouareandalwayswillbetous.’
‘Wereyoutakingsomethingonthatplane?Imeantakingsomethingimportantfromonecountrytoanother?’
‘Yes.ItwasknownIwascarryingit.Ifyouhadn’tcometomyrescue,ifyouhadn’tdrunkpossiblypoisonedbeerandhandedoveryourbanditcloakofbrightcoloursasadisguise,well,accidentshappensometimes.Ishouldn’thavegothere.’
‘Whatwereyoucarrying–ormustn’tIask?AretherethingsIshallneverknow?’
‘Therearealotofthingsyouwillneverknow.Therearealotofthingsyouwon’tbeallowedtoask.IthinkthatquestionofyoursIshallanswer.Abareansweroffact.IfIamallowedtodoso.’
AgainshelookedatLordAltamount.
‘Itrustyourjudgment,’saidLordAltamount.‘Goahead.’
‘Givehimthedope,’saidtheirreverentJamesKleek.
MrHorshamsaid,‘Isupposeyou’vegottoknow.Iwouldn’ttellyou,butthenI’mSecurity.Goahead,MaryAnn.’
‘Onesentence.Iwasbringingabirthcertificate.That’sall.Idon’ttellyouanymoreanditwon’tbeanyuseyouraskinganymorequestions.’
StaffordNyelookedroundtheassembly.
‘Allright.I’lljoin.I’mflatteredatyouraskingme.Wheredowegofromhere?’
‘YouandI,’saidRenata,‘leaveheretomorrow.WegototheContinent.Youmayhaveread,orknow,thatthere’saMusicalFestivaltakingplaceinBavaria.Itissomethingquitenewwhichhasonlycomeintobeinginthelasttwoyears.IthasaratherformidableGermannamemeaning“TheCompanyofYouthfulSingers”andissupportedbytheGovernmentsofseveraldifferentcountries.ItisinoppositiontothetraditionalfestivalsandproductionsofBayreuth.Muchofthemusicgivenismodern–newyoungcomposersaregiventhechanceoftheircompositionsbeingheard.Whilstthoughtofhighlybysome,itisutterlyrepudiatedandheldincontemptbyothers.’
‘Yes,’saidSirStafford,‘Ihavereadaboutit.Arewegoingtoattendit?’
‘Wehaveseatsbookedfortwooftheperformances.’
‘Hasthisfestivalanyspecialsignificanceinourinvestigation?’
‘No,’saidRenata.‘Itismoreinthenatureofwhatyoumightcallanexitandentryconvenience.Wegothereforanostensibleandtruereason,andweleaveitforournextstepinduecourse.’
Helookedround.‘Instructions?DoIgetanymarchingorders?AmItobebriefed?’
‘Notinyourmeaningofthoseterms.Youaregoingonavoyageofexploration.Youwilllearnthingsasyougoalong.Youwillgoasyourself,knowingonlywhatyouknowatpresent.Yougoasaloverofmusic,asaslightlydisappointeddiplomatwhohadperhapshopedforsomepostinhisowncountrywhichhehasnotbeengiven.Otherwise,youwillknownothing.Itissaferso.’
‘Butthatisthesumofactivitiesatpresent?Germany,Bavaria,Austria,theTyrol–thatpartoftheworld?’
‘Itisoneofthecentresofinterest.’
‘Itisnottheonlyone?’
‘Indeed,noteventheprincipalone.Thereareotherspotsontheglobe,allofvaryingimportanceandinterest.Howmuchimportanceeachoneholdsiswhatwehavetofindout.’
‘AndIdon’tknow,oramnottobetold,anythingabouttheseothercentres?’
‘Onlyincursoryfashion.Oneofthem,wethinkthemostimportantone,hasitsheadquartersinSouthAmerica,therearetwowithheadquartersintheUnitedStatesofAmerica,oneinCalifornia,theotherinBaltimore.ThereisoneinSweden,thereisoneinItaly.Thingshavebecomeveryactiveinthelatterinthelastsixmonths.PortugalandSpainalsohavesmallercentres.Paris,ofcourse.Therearefurtherinterestingspotsjust“comingintoproduction”,youmightsay.Asyetnotfullydeveloped.’
‘YoumeanMalaya,orVietnam?’
‘No.No,allthatliesratherinthepast.Itwasagoodrallyingcryforviolenceandstudentindignationandformanyotherthings.
‘Whatisbeingpromoted,youmustunderstand,isthegrowingorganizationofyoutheverywhereagainsttheirmodeofgovernment;againsttheirparentalcustoms,againstveryoftenthereligionsinwhichtheyhavebeenbroughtup.Thereistheinsidiouscultofpermissiveness,thereistheincreasingcultofviolence.Violencenotasameansofgainingmoney,butviolencefortheloveofviolence.Thatparticularlyisstressed,andthereasonsforitaretothepeopleconcernedoneofthemostimportantthingsandoftheutmostsignificance.’
‘Permissiveness,isthatimportant?’
‘Itisawayoflife,nomore.Itlendsitselftocertainabusesbutnotunduly.’
‘Whataboutdrugs?’
‘Thecultofdrugshasbeendeliberatelyadvancedandfomented.Vastsumsofmoneyhavebeenmadethatway,butitisnot,orsowethink,entirelyactivatedforthemoneymotive.’
AllofthemlookedatMrRobinson,whoslowlyshookhishead.
‘No,’hesaid,‘itlooksthatway.Therearepeoplewhoarebeingapprehendedandbroughttojustice.Pushersofdrugswillbefollowedup.Butthereismorethanjustthedrugracketbehindallthis.Thedrugracketisameans,andanevilmeans,ofmakingmoney.Butthereismoretoitthanthat.’
‘Butwho–’StaffordNyestopped.
‘Whoandwhatandwhyandwhere?ThefourW’s.Thatisyourmission,SirStafford,’saidMrRobinson.‘That’swhatyou’vegottofindout.YouandMaryAnn.Itwon’tbeeasy,andoneofthehardestthingsintheworld,remember,istokeepone’ssecrets.’
StaffordNyelookedwithinterestatthefatyellowfaceofMrRobinson.PerhapsthesecretofMrRobinson’sdominationinthefinancialworldwasjustthat.Hissecretwasthathekepthissecret.MrRobinson’smouthshoweditssmileagain.Thelargeteethgleamed.
‘Ifyouknowathing,’hesaid,‘itisalwaysagreattemptationtoshowthatyouknowit;totalkaboutit,inotherwords.Itisnotthatyouwanttogiveinformation,itisnotthatyouhavebeenofferedpaymenttogiveinformation.Itisthatyouwanttoshowhowimportantyouare.Yes,it’sjustassimpleasthat.Infact,’saidMrRobinson,andhehalfclosedhiseyes,‘everythinginthisworldissovery,verysimple.That’swhatpeopledon’tunderstand.’
TheCountessgottoherfeetandStaffordNyefollowedherexample.
‘Ihopeyouwillsleepwellandbecomfortable,’saidMrRobinson.‘Thishouseis,Ithink,moderatelycomfortable.’
StaffordNyemurmuredthathewasquitesureofthat,andonthatpointhewasshortlytobeprovedtohavebeenquiteright.Helaidhisheadonthepillowandwenttosleepimmediately.
Book2
JourneyToSiegfried
Chapter10
TheWomanInTheSchloss
I
TheycameoutoftheFestivalYouthTheatretotherefreshingnightair.Belowtheminasweepoftheground,wasalightedrestaurant.Onthesideofthehillwasanother,smallerone.Therestaurantsvariedslightlyinpricethoughneitherofthemwasinexpensive.Renatawasineveningdressofblackvelvet,SirStaffordNyewasinwhitetieandfulleveningdress.
‘Averydistinguishedaudience,’murmuredStaffordNyetohiscompanion.‘Plentyofmoneythere.Ayoungaudienceonthewhole.Youwouldn’tthinktheycouldaffordit.’
‘Oh!thatcanbeseento–itisseento.’
‘Asubsidyfortheéliteofyouth?Thatkindofthing?’‘Yes.’
Theywalkedtowardstherestaurantonthehighsideofthehill.
‘Theygiveyouanhourforthemeal.Isthatright?’
‘Technicallyanhour.Actuallyanhourandaquarter.’
‘Thataudience,’saidSirStaffordNye,‘mostofthem,nearlyallofthem,Ishouldsay,arerealloversofmusic.’
‘Mostofthem,yes.It’simportant,youknow.’
‘Whatdoyoumean–important?’
‘Thattheenthusiasmshouldbegenuine.Atbothendsofthescale,’sheadded.
‘Whatdidyoumean,exactly,bythat?’
‘Thosewhopractiseandorganizeviolencemustloveviolence,mustwantit,mustyearnforit.Thesealofecstasyineverymovement,ofslashing,hurting,destroying.Andthesamethingwiththemusic.Theearsmustappreciateeverymomentoftheharmoniesandbeauties.Therecanbenopretendinginthisgame.’
‘Canyoudoublether?les–doyoumeanyoucancombineviolenceandaloveofmusicoraloveofart?’
‘Itisnotalwayseasy,Ithink,butyes.Therearemanywhocan.Itissaferreally,iftheydon’thavetocombiner?les.’
‘It’sbettertokeepitsimple,asourfatfriendMrRobinsonwouldsay?Lettheloversofmusiclovemusic,lettheviolentpractitionersloveviolence.Isthatwhatyoumean?’
‘Ithinkso.’
‘Iamenjoyingthisverymuch.Thetwodaysthatwehavestayedhere,thetwonightsofmusicthatwehaveenjoyed.IhavenotenjoyedallthemusicbecauseIamnotperhapssufficientlymoderninmytaste.Ifindtheclothesveryinteresting.’
‘Areyoutalkingofthestageproduction?’
‘No,no,Iwastalkingoftheaudience,really.YouandI,thesquares,theold-fashioned.You,Countess,inyoursocietygown,Iinmywhitetieandtails.Notacomfortableget-up,itneverhasbeen.Andthentheothers,thesilksandthevelvets,theruffledshirtsofthemen,reallace,Inoticed,severaltimes–andtheplushandthehairandtheluxuryofavantgarde,theluxuryoftheeighteen-hundredsoryoumightalmostsayoftheElizabethanageorofVanDyckpictures.’
‘Yes,youareright.’
‘I’mnonearer,though,towhatitallmeans.Ihaven’tlearntanything.Ihaven’tfoundoutanything.’
‘Youmustn’tbeimpatient.Thisisarichshow,supported,askedfor,demandedperhapsbyyouthandprovidedby–’
‘Bywhom?’
‘Wedon’tknowyet.Weshallknow.’
‘I’msogladyouaresureofit.’
Theywentintotherestaurantandsatdown.Thefoodwasgoodthoughnotinanywayornateorluxurious.Onceortwicetheywerespokentobyanacquaintanceorafriend.TwopeoplewhorecognizedSirStaffordNyeexpressedpleasureandsurpriseatseeinghim.Renatahadabiggercircleofacquaintancessincesheknewmoreforeigners–well-dressedwomen,amanortwo,mostlyGermanorAustrian,StaffordNyethought,oneortwoAmericans.Justafewdesultorywords.Wherepeoplehadcomefromorweregoingto,criticismorappreciationofthemusicalfare.Nobodywastedmuchtimesincetheintervalforeatinghadnotbeenverylong.
Theyreturnedtotheirseatsforthetwofinalmusicalofferings.ASymphonicPoem,‘DisintegrationinJoy’,byanewyoungcomposer,Solukonov,andthenthesolemngrandeuroftheMarchoftheMeistersingers.
Theycameoutagainintothenight.Thecarwhichwasattheirdisposaleverydaywaswaitingtheretotakethembacktothesmallbutexclusivehotelinthevillagestreet.StaffordNyesaidgood-nighttoRenata.Shespoketohiminaloweredvoice.
‘Foura.m.,’shesaid.‘Beready.’
Shewentstraightintoherroomandshutthedoorandhewenttohis.
Thefaintscrapeoffingersonhisdoorcamepreciselyatthreeminutestofourthenextmorning.Heopenedthedoorandstoodready.
‘Thecariswaiting,’shesaid.‘Come.’
II
Theylunchedatasmallmountaininn.Theweatherwasgood,themountainsbeautiful.OccasionallyStaffordNyewonderedwhatonearthhewasdoinghere.Heunderstoodlessandlessofhistravellingcompanion.Shespokelittle.Hefoundhimselfwatchingherprofile.Wherewasshetakinghim?Whatwasherrealreason?Atlast,asthesunwasalmostsetting,hesaid:
‘Wherearewegoing?CanIask?’
‘Youcanask,yes.’
‘Butyoudonotreply?’
‘Icouldreply.Icouldtellyouthings,butwouldtheymeananything?Itseemstomethatifyoucometowherewearegoingwithoutmypreparingyouwithexplanations(whichcannotinthenatureofthingsmeananything),yourfirstimpressionswillhavemoreforceandsignificance.’
Helookedatheragainthoughtfully.Shewaswearingatweedcoattrimmedwithfur,smarttravellingclothes,foreigninmakeandcut.
‘MaryAnn,’hesaidthoughtfully.
Therewasafaintquestioninit.
‘No,’shesaid,‘notatthemoment.’
‘Ah.YouarestilltheCountessZerkowski.’
‘AtthemomentIamstilltheCountessZerkowski.’
‘Areyouinyourownpartoftheworld?’
‘Moreorless.Igrewupasachildinthispartoftheworld.ForagoodportionofeachyearweusedtocomehereintheautumntoaSchlossnotverymanymilesfromhere.’
Hesmiledandsaidthoughtfully,‘Whataniceworditis.ASchloss.Sosolid-sounding.’
‘Schl?sserarenotstandingverysolidlynowadays.Theyaremostlydisintegrated.’
‘ThisisHitler’scountry,isn’tit?We’renotfar,arewe,fromBerchtesgaden?’
‘Itliesovertheretothenorth-east.’
‘Didyourrelations,yourfriends–didtheyacceptHitler,believeinhim?PerhapsIoughtnottoaskthingslikethat.’
‘Theydislikedhimandallhestoodfor.Buttheysaid“HeilHitler”.Theyacquiescedinwhathadhappenedtotheircountry.Whatelsecouldtheydo?Whatelsecouldanybodydoatthatdate?’
‘WearegoingtowardstheDolomites,arewenot?’
‘Doesitmatterwhereweare,orwhichwaywearegoing?’
‘Well,thisisavoyageofexploration,isitnot?’
‘Yes,buttheexplorationisnotgeographical.Wearegoingtoseeapersonality.’
‘Youmakemefeel–’StaffordNyelookedupatthelandscapeofswellingmountainsreachinguptothesky–‘asthoughweweregoingtovisitthefamousOldManoftheMountain.’
‘TheMasteroftheAssassins,youmean,whokepthisfollowersunderdrugssothattheydiedforhimwholeheartedly,sothattheykilled,knowingthattheythemselveswouldalsobekilled,butbelieving,too,thatthatwouldtransferthemimmediatelytotheMoslemParadise–beautifulwomen,hashishanderoticdreams–perfectandunendinghappiness.’
Shepausedaminuteandthensaid:
‘Spell-binders!Isupposethey’vealwaysbeentherethroughouttheages.Peoplewhomakeyoubelieveinthemsothatyouarereadytodieforthem.NotonlyAssassins.TheChristiansdiedalso.’
‘TheholyMartyrs?LordAltamount?’
‘WhydoyousayLordAltamount?’
‘Isawhimthatway–suddenly–thatevening.Carvedinstone–inathirteenth-centurycathedral,perhaps.’
‘Oneofusmayhavetodie.Perhapsmore.’
Shestoppedwhathewasabouttosay.
‘ThereisanotherthingIthinkofsometimes.AverseintheNewTestament–Luke,Ithink.ChristattheLastSuppersayingtohisfollowers:“Youaremycompanionsandmyfriends,yetoneofyouisadevil.”Soinallprobabilityoneofusisadevil.’
‘Youthinkitpossible?’
‘Almostcertain.Someonewetrustandknow,butwhogoestosleepatnight,notdreamingofmartyrdombutofthirtypiecesofsilver,andwhowakeswiththefeeloftheminthepalmofhishand.’
‘Theloveofmoney?’
‘Ambitioncoversitbetter.Howdoesonerecognizeadevil?Howwouldoneknow?Adevilwouldstandoutinacrowd,wouldbeexciting–wouldadvertisehimself–wouldexerciseleadership.’
Shewassilentamomentandthensaidinathoughtfulvoice:
‘IhadafriendonceintheDiplomaticServicewhotoldmehowshehadsaidtoaGermanwomanhowmovedsheherselfhadbeenattheperformanceofthePassionPlayatOberammergau.ButtheGermanwomansaidscornfully:“Youdonotunderstand.WeGermanshavenoneedofaJesusChrist!WehaveourAdolfHitlerherewithus.HeisgreaterthananyJesusthateverlived.”Shewasquiteaniceordinarywoman.Butthatishowshefelt.Massesofpeoplefeltit.Hitlerwasaspell-binder.Hespokeandtheylistened–andacceptedthesadism,thegaschambers,thetorturesoftheGestapo.’
Sheshruggedhershouldersandthensaidinhernormalvoice,‘Allthesame,it’soddthatyoushouldhavesaidwhatyoudidjustnow.’
‘Whatwasthat?’
‘AbouttheOldManoftheMountain.TheheadoftheAssassins.’
‘AreyoutellingmethereisanOldManoftheMountainhere?’
‘No.NotanOldManoftheMountain,buttheremightbeanOldWomanoftheMountain.’
‘AnOldWomanoftheMountain.What’sshelike?’
‘You’llseethisevening.’
‘Whatarewedoingthisevening?’
‘Goingintosociety,’saidRenata.
‘Itseemsalongtimesinceyou’vebeenMaryAnn.’
‘You’llhavetowaittillwe’redoingsomeairtravelagain.’
‘Isupposeit’sverybadforone’smorale,’StaffordNyesaidthoughtfully,‘livinghighupintheworld.’
‘Areyoutalkingsocially?’
‘No.Geographically.Ifyouliveinacastleonamountainpeakoverlookingtheworldbelowyou,well,itmakesyoudespisetheordinaryfolk,doesn’tit?You’rethetopone,you’rethegrandone.That’swhatHitlerfeltinBerchtesgaden,that’swhatmanypeoplefeelperhapswhoclimbmountainsandlookdownontheirfellowcreaturesinvalleysbelow.’
‘Youmustbecarefultonight,’Renatawarnedhim.‘It’sgoingtobeticklish.’
‘Anyinstructions?’
‘You’readisgruntledman.You’reonethat’sagainsttheEstablishment,againsttheconventionalworld.You’rearebel,butasecretrebel.Canyoudoit?’
‘Icantry.’
Thesceneryhadgrownwilder.Thebigcartwistedandturneduptheroads,passingthroughmountainvillages,sometimeslookingdownonabewilderinglydistantviewwherelightsshoneonariver,wherethesteeplesofchurchesshowedinthedistance.
‘Wherearewegoing,MaryAnn?’
‘ToanEagle’snest.’
Theroadtookafinalturn.Itwoundthroughaforest.StaffordNyethoughthecaughtglimpsesnowandagainofdeerorofanimalsofsomekind.Occasionally,too,therewereleather-jacketedmenwithguns.Keepers,hethought.AndthentheycamefinallytoaviewofanenormousSchlossstandingonacrag.Someofit,hethought,waspartiallyruined,thoughmostofithadbeenrestoredandrebuilt.Itwasbothmassiveandmagnificentbuttherewasnothingnewaboutitorinthemessageitheld.Itwasrepresentativeofpastpower,powerheldthroughbygoneages.
‘ThiswasoriginallytheGrandDuchyofLiechtenstolz.TheSchlosswasbuiltbytheGrandDukeLudwigin1790,’saidRenata.
‘Wholivestherenow?ThepresentGrandDuke?’
‘No.They’reallgoneanddonewith.Sweptaway.’
‘Andwholivesherenowthen?’
‘Someonewhohaspresent-daypower,’saidRenata.
‘Money?’
‘Yes.Verymuchso.’
‘ShallwemeetMrRobinson,flownonaheadbyairtogreetus?’
‘Thelastpersonyou’llmeetherewillbeMrRobinson,Icanassureyou.’
‘Apity,’saidStaffordNye.‘IlikeMrRobinson.He’squitesomething,isn’the?Whoishereally–whatnationalityishe?’
‘Idon’tthinkanybodyhaseverknown.Everyonetellsonesomethingdifferent.Somepeoplesayhe’saTurk,somethathe’sanArmenian,somethathe’sDutch,somethathe’sjustplainEnglish.SomesaythathismotherwasaCircassianslave,aRussianGrand-Duchess,anIndianBegumandsoon.Nobodyknows.OnepersontoldmethathismotherwasaMissMcLellanfromScotland.Ithinkthat’saslikelyasanything.’
Theyhaddrawnupbeneathalargeportico.Twomen-servantsinliverycamedownthesteps.Theirbowswereostentatiousastheywelcomedtheguests.Theluggagewasremoved;theyhadagooddealofluggagewiththem.StaffordNyehadwonderedtobeginwithwhyhehadbeentoldtobringsomuch,buthewasbeginningtounderstandnowthatfromtimetotimetherewasneedforit.Therewould,hethought,beneedforitthisevening.Afewquestioningremarksandhiscompaniontoldhimthatthiswasso.
Theymetbeforedinner,summonedbythesoundofagreatresoundinggong.Ashepausedinthehall,hewaitedforhertojoinhimcomingdownthestairs.Shewasinfullelaborateeveningdresstonight,wearingadarkredvelvetgown%