Agatha Christie - Passenger to Frankfurt

Shoreham said, and this time his voice was almost distinct:

'Who are you? Who the devil are you?'

'I'm just a man who knows about money,' said Mr Robinson, 'and the things that branch off from money, you know. People and their idiosyncrasies and their practices in life. If you liked to, you could lay your hand on the work that you've put away. I'm not saying that you could do the same work now, but I think it's all there somewhere. You have told us your views, and I wouldn't say they were all wrong,' said Mr Robinson. 'Possibly you're right. Benefits to humanity are tricky things to deal with. Poor old Beveridge, freedom from want, freedom from fear, freedom from whatever it was, he thought he was making a heaven on earth by saying that and planning for it and getting it done. But it hasn't made heaven on earth and I don't suppose your Benvo or whatever you call it (sounds like a patent food) will bring heaven on earth either. Benevolence has its dangers just like everything else. What it will do is save a lot of suffering, pain, anarchy, violence, slavery to drugs. Yes, it'll save quite a lot of bad things from happening, and it might save something that was important. It might — just might — make a difference to people. Young people. This Benvoleo of yours — now I've made it sound like a patent cleaner — is going to make people benevolent and I'll admit perhaps that it's also going to make them condescending, smug and pleased with themselves, but there's just a chance, too, that if you change people's natures by force and they have to go on using that particular kind of nature until they die, one or two of them — not many — might discover that they had a natural vocation, in humility, not pride, for what they were being forced to do. Really change themselves, I mean, before they died. Not be able to get out of a new habit they'd learnt.'

Colonel Munro said, 'I don't understand what the hell you're all talking about.'

Miss Neumann said, 'He's talking nonsense. You have to take Professor Shoreham's answer. He will do what he likes with his own discoveries. You can't coerce him.'

'No,' said Lord Altamount. 'We're not going to coerce you or torture you, Robert, or force you to reveal your hiding-places. You'll do what you think right. That's agreed.'

'Edward?' said Robert Shoreham. His speech failed him slightly again, his hands moved in gesture, and Miss Neumann translated quickly.

'Edward? He says you are Edward Altamount?'

Shoreham spoke again and she took the words from him.

'He asks you, Lord Altamount, if you are definitively, with your whole heart and mind, asking him to put Project Benvo in your jurisdiction. He says –' she paused, waited listening — 'he says you are the only man in public life he ever trusted. If it is your wish –'

James Kleek was suddenly on his feet. Anxious, ready to move like lightning, he stood by Lord Altamount's side.

'Let me help you up, sir. You're ill. You're not well. Please stand back a little. Miss Neumann. I — I must see to him. I — I have his remedies here. I know what to do –'

His hand went into his pocket and came out again with a hypodermic syringe.

'Unless he gets this at once it'll be too late –' He had caught up Lord Altamount's arm, rolling up his sleeve, pinching the flesh between his fingers, he held the hypolennic ready.

But someone else moved. Horsham was across the room, pushing Colonel Munro aside; his hand closed over James Kleek's as he wrenched the hypodermic away. Kleek struggled but Horsham was too strong for him. And Munro was now here, too.

'So it's been you, James Kleek,' he said. 'You who've been the traitor, a faithful disciple who wasn't a faithful disciple.'

Miss Neumann had gone to me door — had flung it open and was calling, 'Nurse! Come quickly. Come.'

The nurse appeared. She gave one quick glance to Professor Shoreham, but he waved her away and pointed across he room to where Horsham and Munro still held a struggling Kleek. Her hand went into the pocket of her uniform.

Shoreham stammered out, 'It's Altamount. A heart attack.'

'Heart attack, my foot,' roared Munro. 'It's attempted murder.' He stopped.

'Hold the chap,' he said to Horsham, and leapt across the room.

'Mrs Cortman? Since when have you entered the nursing profession? We'd rather lost sight of you since you gave us the slip in Baltimore .'

Milly Jean was still wrestling with her pocket. Now her hand came out with the small automatic in it. She glanced towards Shoreham but Munro blocked her, and Lisa Neumann was standing in front of Shoreham's chair.

James Kleek yelled, 'Get Altamount, Juanita — quick — get Altamount.'

Her arm flashed up and she fired, James Kleek said, 'Damned good shot!'

Lord Altamount had had a classical education. He murmured faintly, looking at James Kleek,

'Jamie? Et tu Brute?' and collapsed against the back of his chair.

Dr McCulloch looked round him, a little uncertain of what he was going to do or say next. The evening had been a somewhat unusual experience for him.

Lisa Neumann came to him and set a glass by his side.

'A hot toddy,' she said.

'I always knew you were a woman in a thousand, Lisa.'

He sipped appreciatively.

'I must say I'd like to know what all this has been about — but I gather it's the sort of thing that's so hush-hush that nobody's going to tell me anything.'

'The Professor — he's all right, isn't he?'

'The Professor?' He looked at her anxious face, kindly. 'He's fine. If you ask me, it's done him a world of good.'

'I thought perhaps the shock — '

'I'm quite all right,' said Shoreham. 'Shock treatment is what I needed. I feel — how shall I put it — alive again.' He looked surprised.

McCulloch said to Lisa, 'Notice how much stronger his voice is? It's apathy really that's the enemy in these cases — what he wants is to work again — the stimulation of some brain work. Music is all very well — it's kept him soothed and able to enjoy life in a mild way. But he's really a man of great intellectual power — and he misses the mental activity that was the essence of life to him. Get him started on it again if you can.'

He nodded encouragingly at her as she looked doubtfully at him.

'I think, Dr McCulloch,' said Colonel Munro, 'that we owe you a few explanations of what happened this evening, even though, as you surmise, the powers-that-be will demand a hush-hush policy. Lord Altamount's death –' He hesitated.

'The bullet didn't actually kill him,' said the doctor. 'It was due to shock. That hypodermic would have done the trick — strychnine. The young man –'

'I only just got it away from him in time,' said Horsham.

'Been the nigger in the woodpile all along?' asked the doctor.

'Yes — regarded with trust and affection for over seven years. The son of one of Lord Altamount's oldest friend.'

'It happens. And the lady — in it together, do I understand?'

'Yes. She got the post here by false credentials. She is also wanted by the police for murder.'

'Murder?'

'Yes. Murder of her husband, Sam Cortman, the American Ambassador. She shot him on the steps of the Embassy and told a fine tale of young men, masked, attacking him.'

'Why did she have it in for him? Political or personal?'

'He found out about some of her activities, we think.'

'I'd say he suspected infidelity,' said Horsham. 'Instead he discovered a hornets' nest of espionage and conspiracy, and his wife running the show. He didn't know quite how to deal with it. Nice chap, but slow-thinking — and she had the sense to act quickly. Wonderful how she registered grief at the Memorial Service.'

'Memorial –' said Professor Shoreham.

Everyone, slightly startled, turned round to look at him.