The Man in the Brown Suit. Агата Кристи
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drew me aside in the Club into a quiet corner. He talked a good deal. About South Africa and the industrial situation there. About the growing rumours of a strike on the Rand. Of the secret causes actuating that strike. I listened as patiently as I could. Finally, he dropped his voice to a whisper and explained that certain documents had come to light which ought to be placed in the hands of General Smuts.
‘I’ve no doubt you’re quite right,’ I said, stifling a yawn.
‘But how are we to get them to him? Our position in the matter is delicate—very delicate.’
‘What’s wrong with the post?’ I said cheerfully. ‘Put a twopenny stamp on and drop ’em in the nearest letter-box.’
He seemed quite shocked at the suggestion.
‘My dear Pedler! The common post!’
It has always been a mystery to me why Governments employ King’s Messengers and draw such attention to their confidential documents.
‘If you don’t like the post, send one of your young Foreign Office fellows. He’ll enjoy the trip.’
‘Impossible,’ said Milray, wagging his head in a senile fashion. ‘There are reasons, my dear Pedler—I assure you there are reasons.’
‘Well,’ I said, rising, ‘all this is very interesting, but I must be off—’
‘One minute, my dear Pedler, one minute, I beg of you. Now tell me, in confidence, is it not true that you intend visiting South Africa shortly yourself? You have large interests in Rhodesia, I know, and the question of Rhodesia joining in the Union is one in which you have a vital interest.’
‘Well, I had thought of going out in about a month’s time.’
‘You couldn’t possibly make it sooner? This month? This week, in fact?’
‘I could,’ I said, eyeing him with some interest. ‘But I don’t know that I particularly want to.’
‘You would be doing the Government a great service—a very great service. You would not find them—er—ungrateful.’
‘Meaning, you want me to be the postman?’
‘Exactly. Your position is an unofficial one, your journey is bona fide. Everything would be eminently satisfactory.’
‘Well,’ I said slowly, ‘I don’t mind if I do. The one thing I am anxious to do is to get out of England again as soon as possible.’
‘You will find the climate of South Africa delightful—quite delightful.’
‘My dear fellow, I know all about the climate. I was out there shortly before the war.’
‘I am really much obliged to you, Pedler. I will send you round the package by messenger. To be placed in General Smuts’s own hands, you understand? The Kilmorden Castle sails on Saturday—quite a good boat.’
I accompanied him a short way along Pall Mall, before we parted. He shook me warmly by the hand, and thanked me again effusively.
I walked home reflecting on the curious by-ways of Governmental policy.
It was the following evening that Jarvis, my butler, informed me that a gentleman wished to see me on private business, but declined to give his name. I have always a lively apprehension of insurance touts, so told Jarvis to say I could not see him. Guy Pagett, unfortunately, when he might for once have been of real use, was laid up with a bilious attack. These earnest, hard-working young men with weak stomachs are always liable to bilious attacks.
Jarvis returned.
‘The gentleman asked me to tell you, Sir Eustace, that he comes to you from Mr Milray.’
That altered the complexion of things. A few minutes later I was confronting my visitor in the library. He was a well-built young fellow with a deeply tanned face. A scar ran diagonally from the corner of his eye to the jaw, disfiguring what would otherwise have been a handsome though somewhat reckless countenance.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘what’s the matter?’
‘Mr Milray sent me to you, Sir Eustace. I am to accompany you to South Africa as your secretary.’
‘My dear fellow,’ I said, ‘I’ve got a secretary already. I don’t want another.’
‘I think you do, Sir Eustace. Where is your secretary now?’
‘He’s down with a bilious attack,’ I explained.
‘You are sure it’s only a bilious attack?’
‘Of course it is. He’s subject to them.’
My visitor smiled.
‘It may or may not be a bilious attack. Time will show. But I can tell you this, Sir Eustace, Mr Milray would not be surprised if an attempt were made to get your secretary out of the way. Oh, you need have no fear for yourself’—I suppose a momentary alarm had flickered across my face—‘you are not threatened. Your secretary out of the way, access to you would be easier. In any case, Mr Milray wishes me to accompany you. The passage-money will be our affair, of course, but you will take the necessary steps about the passport, as though you had decided that you needed the services of a second secretary.’
He seemed a determined young man. We stared at each other and he stared me down.
‘Very well,’ I said feebly.
‘You will say nothing to anyone as to my accompanying you.’
‘Very well,’ I said again.
After all, perhaps it was better to have this fellow with me, but I had a premonition that I was getting into deep waters. Just when I thought I had attained peace!
I stopped my visitor as he was turning to depart.
‘It might be just as well if I knew my new secretary’s name,’ I observed sarcastically.
He considered for a minute.
‘Harry Rayburn seems quite a suitable name,’ he observed.
It was a curious way of putting it.
‘Very well,’ I said for the third time.
(Anne’s Narrative Resumed)
It is most undignified for a heroine to be sea-sick. In books the more it rolls and tosses, the better she likes it. When everybody else is ill, she alone staggers along the deck, braving the elements and positively rejoicing in the storm. I regret to say that at the first roll the Kilmorden gave, I turned pale and hastened below. A sympathetic stewardess received me. She suggested dry toast and ginger ale.
I remained groaning in my cabin for three days. Forgotten was my quest. I had no longer any interest in solving mysteries. I was a totally different Anne to the one who had rushed back to the South Kensington square so jubilantly from the shipping office.
I smile now as I remember my abrupt entry into the drawing-room. Mrs Flemming