Agatha Christie - The Man in the Brown Suit

"Wise girl. You've made a clean breast of the thing. And let me tell you I should soon have caught you out if you hadn't. A lot of people wouldn't believe your story, anyway, especially the beginning part, but I do. You're the kind of girl who would start off like that — at a moment's notice, on the slenderest of motives. You've had amazing luck, of course, but sooner or later the amateur runs up against the professional and then the result is a foregone conclusion. I am the professional. I started on this business when I was quite a youngster. All things considered, it seemed to me a good way of getting rich quickly. I always could think things out and devise ingenious schemes — and I never made the mistake of trying to carry out my schemes myself. Always employ the expert –that has been my motto. The one time I departed from it I came to grief –but I couldn't trust anyone to do that job for me. Nadina knew too much.

I'm an easygoing man, kind-hearted and good-tempered so long as I'm not thwarted. Nadina both thwarted me and threatened me — just as I was at the apex of a successful career. Once she was dead and the diamonds were in my possession, I was safe. I've come to the conclusion now that I bungled the job. That idiot Pagett, with his wife and family! My fault — it tickled my sense of humour to employ the fellow, with his Cinquecento poisoner's face and his mid-Victorian soul. A maxim for you, my dear Anne. Don't let your sense of humour carry you away. For years I've had an instinct that it would be wise to get rid of Pagett, but the fellow was so hardworking and conscientious that I honestly couldn't find an excuse for sacking him. So I let things drift.

"But we're wandering from the point. The question is what to do with you. Your narrative was admirably clear, but there is one thing that still escape me. Where are the diamonds now?"

"Harry Rayburn has them," I said, watching him.

His face did not change, it retained its expression of sardonic good-humour.

"H'm. I want those diamonds."

"I don't see much chance of your getting them," I replied.

"Don't you? Now I do. I don't want to be unpleasant, but I should like you to reflect that a dead girl or so found in this quarter of the city will occasion no surprise. There's a man downstairs who does those sort of jobs very neatly. Now, you're a sensible young woman. What I propose is this: you will sit down and write to Harry Rayburn, telling him to join you here and bring the diamonds with him –"

"I won't do anything of the kind."

"Don't interrupt your elders. I propose to make a bargain with you. The diamonds in exchange for your life. And don't make any mistake about it, your life is absolutely in my power."

"And Harry?"

"I'm far too tender-hearted to part two young lovers. He shall go free too — on the understanding, of course, that neither of you interfere with me in future."

"And what guarantee have I that you will keep your side of the bargain?"

"None whatsoever, my dear girl. You'll have to trust me and hope for the best. Of course, if you're in an heroic mood and prefer annihilation, that's another matter."

This was what I had been playing for. I was careful not to jump at the bait. Gradually I allowed myself to be bullied and cajoled into yielding. I wrote at Sir Eustace's dictation:

"Dear Harry,

I think I see a chance of establishing your innocence beyond any possible doubt. Please follow my instructions minutely. Go to Agrasato's curio-shop. Ask to see something 'out of the ordinary,' 'for a special occasion.' The man will then ask you to 'come into the back room.' Go with him. You will find a messenger who will bring you to me. Do exactly as he tells you. Be sure and bring the diamonds with you. Not a word to anyone."

Sir Eustace stopped. "I leave the fancy touches to your own imagination," he remarked. "But be careful to make no mistakes."

'"Yours for ever and ever, Anne,' will be sufficient," I remarked.

I wrote in the words. Sir Eustace stretched out his hand for the letter and read it through.

"That seems all right. Now the address."

I gave it him. It was that of a small shop which received letters and telegrams for a consideration.

He struck the bell upon the table with his hand. Chichester-Pettigrew, alias Minks, answered the summons.

"This letter is to go immediately — the usual route."

"Very well. Colonel."

He looked at the name on the envelope. Sir Eustace was watching him keenly.

"A friend of yours, I think?"

"Of mine?"

The man seemed startled.

"You had a prolonged conversation with him in Johannesburg yesterday."

"A man came up and questioned me about your movements and those of Colonel Race. I gave him misleading information."

"Excellent, my dear fellow, excellent," said Sir Eustace genially. "My mistake."

I chanced to look at Chichester-Pettigrew as he left the room. He was white to the lips, as though in deadly terror. No sooner was he outside, than Sir Eustace picked up a speaking-tube that rested by his elbow, and spoke down it.

"That you, Schwart? Watch Minks. He's not to leave the house without orders."

He put the speaking-tube down again, and frowned, slightly tapping the table with his hand.

"May I ask you a few questions, Sir Eustace," I said, after a minute or two of silence.

"Certainly. What excellent nerves you have, Anne! You are capable of taking an intelligent interest in things when most girls would be sniffing and wringing their hands."

"Why did you take Harry as your secretary instead of giving him up to the police?"

"I wanted those cursed diamonds. Nadina, the little devil, was playing off your Harry against me. Unless I gave her the price she wanted, she threatened to sell them back to him. That was another mistake I made –1 thought she'd have them with her that day. But she was too clever for that. Carton, her husband, was dead too — I'd no clue whatsoever as to where the diamonds were hidden. Then I managed to get a copy of a wireless message sent to Nadina by someone on board the Kilmorden –either Carton or Rayburn, I don't know which. It was a duplicate of that piece of paper you picked up. 'Seventeen one twenty-two,' it ran. I took it to be an appointment with Rayburn, and when he was so desperate to get aboard the Kilmorden I was convinced that I was right. So I pretended to swallow his statements, and let him come. I kept a pretty sharp watch upon him and hoped that I should learn more. Then I found Minks trying to play a lone hand, and interfering with me. I soon stopped that. He came to heel all right. It was annoying not getting Cabin 17, and it worried me not being able to place you. Were you the innocent young girl you seemed, or were you not? When Rayburn set out to keep the appointment that night Minks was told off to intercept him. Minks muffed it, of course."

"But why did the wireless message say 'seventeen' instead of 'seventy-one'?"

"I've thought that out. Carton must have given that wireless operator his own memorandum to copy off on to a form, and he never read the copy through. The operator made the same mistake we all did, and read it as 17.1.22 instead of 1.71.22. The thing I don't know is how Minks got on to Cabin 17. It must have been sheer instinct."

"And the dispatch to General Smuts? Who tampered with that?"

"My dear Anne, you don't suppose I was going to have a lot of my plans given away, without making an effort to save them? With an escaped murderer as a secretary, I had no hesitation whatever in substituting blanks. Nobody would think of suspecting poor old Pedler."

"What about Colonel Race?"

"Yes, that was a nasty jar. When Pagett told me he was a Secret Service fellow, I had an unpleasant feeling down the spine. I remembered that he'd been nosing around Nadina in Paris during the War — and I had a horrible suspicion that he was out after me! I don't like the way he's stuck to me ever since. He's one of those strong, silent men who have always got something up their sleeve."