Eric Ambler - Judgment on Deltchev

I hesitated. ‘Yes, it was my hat.’

‘Why do you hesitate? Were you thinking of lying, Mr Foster?’

His eyes were on mine and at that moment I understood the nature of the interview. Brankovitch knew what Aleko knew. He knew about the letter to Philip Deltchev and my finding of Pazar. He knew that Aleko had forbidden me the Deltchev house and that I had that night ignored the prohibition. He knew that Aleko had tried to kill me and failed. He might know that Katerina had talked to me. What he was trying to find out now was how much I knew, how dangerous I was. If I did not know the truth about the conspiracy against Vukashin, I was unimportant. If I did know or if I had an inkling of the truth, I must be eliminated.

I leaned forward and put my cigarette out in the ashtray by him. Then I smiled ruefully. ‘Surely you understand my position, Minister. The last thing I want to do is get involved in police proceedings. Two armed men attempted to hold me up. Luckily, I managed to get away from them. It happened on a very dark stretch of road. I didn’t see either of their faces. What use would I have been to the police?’

‘It was your duty to report the occurrence to them. By running away in that fashion you have raised a grave question in the minds of the police.’

‘What question?’

‘It might be that you were one of the men who fired shots.’

‘Do you believe that, Minister?’

‘What I believe is not important. This is a police affair. It is referred to me initially as a matter of policy because of your status here as a newspaper representative. But I cannot prevent their dealing with you as a criminal. I can merely advise them of my opinion.’

‘If I were a criminal, Minister, would I have been so careless as to leave behind a hat with my name in it?’

‘The police argue from the stupidity of the criminal, not from his cleverness. But assuming, Mr Foster, that your version of the affair is true, what do you think was the motive for this attack on you?’

Here it was. I looked puzzled. ‘Motive? Robbery, I imagine. What else could it be?’

He pretended to think this over. Then he said, ‘You have not, for instance, made any enemies here?’

I felt relieved. If this was the best he could do, I had nothing to worry about.

‘Enemies? I don’t think so.’

‘You have been involved, for instance, in no unusual circumstances that might give a clue to the police?’

I hesitated again.

‘I should advise you to be frank, Mr Foster. You see, armed robbery of that kind is a most unusual crime here. I do not imply that we have no violent criminals, but that it is unusual for them to be armed with revolvers. The reason is that to carry a revolver here is in itself an offence punishable by death. The law was made to deal with the Brotherhood criminals, but of course it applies to all. Robbers would try to kill you with knives. These men did not. If they were not robbers, then who were they? That is what the police ask.’

I still hesitated. I was in a terrifying quandary. Obviously, the ‘unusual circumstances’ he was inviting me to tell him about were my finding of Pazar and my meeting with Aleko. But to which would it be better to pretend — frankness or cunning? Which would conceal from him more effectively my actual knowledge? Frankness had its dangers. He would be able to cross-examine and perhaps catch me out. Or he might decide from my manner that I was less artless than I seemed and unlikely to have been genuinely taken in by Aleko’s explanation of the affair. Perhaps an obstinate silence would be better. The silence itself would have a useful meaning. It would say to him, ‘This man does not know that I know what he is concealing. His pretence of ignorance shows, therefore, that he is truly ignorant of the important facts.’ But it might also add, ‘And that is just what he hoped I would think. Clearly he is bluffing.’

‘Yes, Mr Foster?’ He was watching every movement of my face.

Suddenly, hopelessly, I decided. I drew a deep breath. ‘Very well, Minister. I will be frank. I have a confession to make.’

‘A confession, Mr Foster?’

‘Yes.’ And then I had a desperate inspiration. I looked at him angrily. ‘That was what you were expecting, wasn’t it?’

‘Expecting?’

‘Minister, with all due respect, I’ve had enough of this cat-and-mouse game. I’ve been silly. I stuck my nose into something that was none of my business and found out some things that I wasn’t supposed to know. All right, I admit it. I didn’t think Herr Valmo would bother you with it. I was hoping he wouldn’t. But since he has, I’m sorry. One thing I can promise you is that no reference to it will be made in any of my articles. I can’t say more than that.’

He stared at me. The skin of his face was stretched tightly. It was for a moment a most extraordinary and horrible mask. The lips moved.

‘Can’t you, Mr Foster?’

‘What is there to say? I found a dead body that your secret-police people had baited a trap with. Naturally Herr Valmo was annoyed. But he didn’t blame me. I acted in all innocence. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.’

‘Did you make certain very solemn promises to Herr Valmo?’

I looked embarrassed. ‘Yes, I did.’

‘And yet you again went to the Deltchev house.’

‘Unfortunately, I did.’

‘Why did you go?’

‘I felt I had to have Madame Deltchev’s comments on the trial evidence. To be quite frank, I thought it more important to have those comments than to obey an instruction I couldn’t really see the point of.’

‘Did you speak to Katerina Deltchev?’

I looked puzzled. ‘No, it was the old servant who let me in.’

‘Who do you think were the two men who tried to kill you tonight?’

‘I’ve no idea. I told you. I didn’t see their faces.’

‘I think you are pretending to be more stupid than you really are, Mr Foster. How on reflection do you explain those men? If they weren’t robbers, what were they?’

For an instant I thought that I had failed after all. It was the phrase ‘on reflection’ that did it. If he was thinking ahead to a moment when, with Vukashin assassinated, I was beginning to put two and two together, I was really done for. If he thought that there was the remotest chance of my getting at the truth, he would decide against me. I made a last attempt.

I stared at him with sudden horrified comprehension. ‘You mean that they were Brotherhood men?’

For about ten long seconds he did not answer. Then, slowly, he nodded. ‘You see, Mr Foster, this prohibition of Valmo’s that you so irresponsibly ignored was not without reason. Naturally, Valmo did not tell you all the facts, but there was reason to believe that the Brotherhood was interested in reaching Madame Deltchev. You were mistaken tonight for one of Valmo’s men. You are lucky to be still alive.’

He had swallowed the suggestion whole. And he had given himself away. I sat back with a sigh which would have meant anything but which came actually from a feeling of relief that was almost painful. Fortunately, I still had my wits about me. There was one thing he had not mentioned. If he did not bring it up I would have to and I did not know how. I took another risk.

I frowned suddenly. ‘There’s only one thing I don’t understand,’ I said. ‘Your office issued a statement this evening saying that Pazar had been found shot. The details sounded as if he was the man I found. Why didn’t Valmo tell me who he was? Why the secrecy?’

‘Would you have respected the confidence, Mr Foster?’

‘Of course.’

‘As you did your undertaking to Herr Valmo?’ He was quite sure of me now.

I tried to look embarrassed.