The Man in the Brown Suit, Agatha Christie [free e novels TXT] 📗

deal of respect for Sir Eustace’s shrewdness. It was a moment for the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I told him the whole story, omitting nothing, up to the moment of my rescue by Harry. When I had finished, he nodded his head in approval.

“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, kindhearted 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 left 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 escapes 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 tenderhearted to part two young lovers. He shall go free too⁠—on the understanding, of course, that neither of you will interfere with me in future.”

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

“None whatever, 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 forever 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 sniffling and wringing their hands.”

“Why did you take Harry as your secretary instead of giving