Eric Ambler - Judgment on Deltchev

‘Who?’

‘My brother, Philip.’

I sighed. ‘The one who’s studying law in Geneva?’

‘He is not in Geneva.’

‘Your mother said he was.’

‘My mother was lying.’

‘I didn’t think so.’

‘She did not intend you to think so. Will you please listen to me without interruption for a moment?’

‘All right, I’m listening.’

‘My brother has been in hiding here since before Papa was arrested. My brother, Herr Foster, had five friends. Their names were Pazar, Eftib, Vlahov, Pechanatz, and Radiuje.’

I dropped the towel. ‘Do you know what you’re saying?’

‘Perfectly. That is what I came to tell you. This evidence that they have brought against my father is quite true. Only it is not he who is guilty. It is my brother, Philip.’

I sat back and stared at her. She was telling the truth. A lot of things were suddenly and appallingly clear.

‘When did your mother find out?’

‘She did not tell me.’

‘Does your father know?’

‘He must have known from the beginning of the trial, or guessed. But what can he do? He cannot accuse his own son, and Brankovitch would certainly not let Philip give evidence.’

‘Nobody would believe it anyway. They’d laugh. Dutiful son takes blame for father’s crimes. I’d laugh myself.’ I thought about it for a moment. It explained quite a lot of things, but not everything by any means. I looked up at her again. ‘What’s the idea of telling this to me, Fräulein?’

‘I want you to publish my brother’s evidence.’

‘Does he want to give it?’

She set her lips firmly. ‘He must.’

‘Does your mother know of this idea?’

‘I would not tell her. She would say that it would not help Papa, only condemn Philip.’

‘She’d be right.’

‘But abroad they must know the truth.’

‘Would your mother agree with that?’

‘I do not know. She is too clever to be simple. She would discuss the idea and think of possibilities nobody else had dreamed of. Then she would say she was tired. You would not know her real thoughts.’

‘What was your brother up to? Is he crazy?’

She shook her head slowly. ‘When Papa betrayed the party,’ she said, ‘he and Philip quarrelled. They were always in conflict, but this time my mother could do nothing.’ Tears came to her eyes. ‘We were all against him, even I was; and when the People’s Party came to power, Philip joined a student political club that had for secretary this man Pazar. Pazar always needed money, but the students liked him. He talked very amusingly and they used to pay him for coaching. When they formed a club they would sometimes make him secretary and give him a commission on the subscriptions. Philip soon felt that the club was not serious, but he became very friendly with Pazar. Then, one day, Pazar told him that he was a member of the Brotherhood.’

‘There must have been pleasure in telling that to the son of the man who had done so much to destroy it,’ I remarked. It was all too easy to catch the flavour of those dangerous exchanges of confidences between the middle-aged drug addict and the fanatical youth.

She shrugged. ‘Perhaps. I know that when Philip joined the Brotherhood it was only to revenge himself on Papa. He did not mean then to do more than join.’

‘But once he had joined, he found that they expected more than a gesture. Was that it?’

She nodded. ‘There were six of them elected, and Philip was named the leader. Their task was to kill Vukashin at the Anniversary-Celebration parade. But-’

‘Just a moment. Who was the man who gave them the job?’

‘It was not one man, but a group of men. They called themselves the Survivors.’

‘When did Philip tell you all this?’

‘Before he went to Switzerland. Mamma had become worried about him. He looked so ill and tired. She persuaded Papa to send him there to study. Naturally, he refused to go at first, but after a day or two he said no more. That was at Christmas. He had arranged to return in secret when Pazar sent for him.’ She paused before she added, ‘I knew then that he was not the real leader, but had been given the role of leader because of his name.’

‘Did you say that to him?’

‘He already knew it, I think. But if I had said it he would have made some other foolishness to prove to me that I was wrong. Besides, I thought that in Geneva he might change his mind and forget about it.’

‘But he didn’t.’

‘No. We had arranged a code for our letters, and when the attempt on Papa was made, I heard from him that he was returning. I only saw him once. We met secretly at a place near the station.’

‘Patriarch Dimo 9?’

‘No, another. But he gave me two addresses which I might send letters to. Valmo, Patriarch Dimo 9, was one of them. The other he told me I must use only in case of an extreme emergency if I had to find him.’

‘What was in the letter you gave me?’

‘I begged him to escape to Greece and publish the truth about the conspiracy against Vukashin from there.’

‘What made you decide to come to me?’

She frowned impatiently. ‘Today’s evidence, Herr Foster. Surely you see. The police know everything. Philip and Pazar are the only two left. They must be in hiding somewhere, helpless. Philip can do nothing now even if he wished. It must be done for him.’

I thought hard for a moment or two, then I shook my head. ‘I don’t think that it’s as simple as you believe, Fräulein.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, to begin with, Valmo was the name Pazar was hiding under. When I tried to deliver your letter, I found him dead. He’d been shot through the back of the head and had been there some days.’

‘What happened to my letter?’

‘That was burnt by a man named Aleko who said that he was of the secret police and that his name was Valmo. He also said that your letter was addressed to him and was something to do with the attempt on your father.’ I described Aleko. ‘Does that mean anything to you?’ I added.

She looked utterly bewildered. ‘No, Herr Foster.’

‘What does your brother look like?’

She gave me a description.

I nodded. ‘A young man who looks like that came into Aleko’s apartment while I was there. I only saw him for a moment. Aleko called him Jika.’

She stood up quickly. ‘That is Philip. He likes his friends to call him that. Herr Foster, where is this place?’

‘I don’t know for certain, but I should think that it may be the other address your brother gave you. Have you got it?’

‘Philip made me remember it. He said it was too dangerous to write down.’

‘What is it?’

‘Pashik, Pan-Eurasian Press Service, Serdika Prospek 15,’ she said.

I went to the wardrobe, got out the bottle of plum brandy, and poured myself a big drink.

‘Do you like this stuff?’ I asked.

She shook her head.

‘All right, Fräulein. You’d better go back now. I think I know how to reach your brother.’

Pashik lived in a modern apartment house near his office. He had pointed out the place to me on the day I had arrived. I thought now that I could find it without much difficulty. There were no taxis. I walked.

The way there lay through the business quarter, and by that time the streets were mostly empty and still. Earlier that day they had been decorated in preparation for the anniversary parade, and the bright moonlight striking obliquely through the flags overhead cast a multiplicity of shadows that stirred and twisted in the warm breeze. It was like walking through the dark forest of a dream. But I had gone some distance before I became frightened.