Destination Unknown - Agatha Christie [78]
‘Andrew Peters? No, I’m afraid, Your Excellency, you’ve got your facts wrong. We’ve no one of that name here. I’m afraid I don’t even know the name.’
‘You know the name of Thomas Betterton, don’t you?’ said Jessop.
Just for a second Van Heidem hesitated. His head turned very slightly towards the old man in the chair, but he caught himself back in time.
‘Thomas Betterton,’ he said. ‘Why, yes, I think–’
One of the gentlemen of the press spoke up quickly on that cue.
‘Thomas Betterton,’ he said. ‘Why, I should say he was pretty well big news. Big news six months ago when he disappeared. Why, he’s made headlines in the papers all over Europe. The police have been looking for him here, there and everywhere. Do you mean to say he’s been here in this place all the time?’
‘No.’ Van Heidem spoke sharply. ‘Someone, I fear, has been misinforming you. A hoax, perhaps. You have seen today all our workers at the Unit. You have seen everything.’
‘Not quite everything, I think,’ said Jessop, quietly. ‘There’s a young man called Ericsson, too,’ he added. ‘And Dr Louis Barron, and possibly Mrs Calvin Baker.’
‘Ah.’ Dr Van Heidem seemed to receive enlightenment. ‘But those people were killed in Morocco–in a plane crash. I remember it perfectly now. At least I remember Ericsson was in the crash and Dr Louis Barron. Ah, France sustained a great loss that day. A man such as Louis Barron is hard to replace.’ He shook his head. ‘I do not know anything about a Mrs Calvin Baker, but I do seem to remember that there was an English or American woman on that plane. It might well perhaps have been this Mrs Betterton, of whom you speak. Yes, it was all very sad.’ He looked across inquiringly at Jessop. ‘I do not know, Monsieur, why you should suppose that these people were coming here. It may possibly be that Dr Barron mentioned at one time that he hoped to visit our settlement here while he was in North Africa. That may possibly have given rise to a misconception.’
‘So you tell me,’ said Jessop, ‘that I am mistaken? That these people are none of them here?’
‘But how can they be, my dear sir, since they were all killed in this plane accident? The bodies were recovered, I believe.’
‘The bodies recovered were too badly charred for identification.’ Jessop spoke the last words with deliberation and significance.
There was a little stir behind him. A thin, precise, very attenuated voice said:
‘Do I understand you to say that there was no precise identification?’ Lord Alverstoke was leaning forward, his hand to his ear. Under bushy, overhanging eyebrows his small keen eyes looked into Jessop’s.
‘There could be no formal identification, my lord,’ said Jessop, ‘and I have reason to believe these people survived that accident.’
‘Believe?’ said Lord Alverstoke, with displeasure in his thin, high voice.
‘I should have said I had evidence of survival.’
‘Evidence? Of what nature, Mr–er–er–Jessop.’
‘Mrs Betterton was wearing a choker of false pearls on the day she left Fez for Marrakesh,’ said Jessop. ‘One of these pearls was found at a distance of half a mile from the burnt-out plane.’
‘How can you state positively that the pearl found actually came from Mrs Betterton’s necklace?’
‘Because all the pearls of that necklace had had a mark put upon them invisible to the naked eye, but recognizable under a strong lens.’
‘Who put that mark on them?’
‘I did, Lord Alverstoke, in the presence of my colleague, here, Monsieur Leblanc.’
‘You put those marks–you had a reason in marking those pearls in that special fashion?’
‘Yes, my lord. I had reason to believe that Mrs Betterton would lead me to her husband, Thomas Betterton, against whom a warrant is out.’ Jessop continued. ‘Two more of these pearls came to light. Each on stages of a route between where the plane was burnt out and the settlement where we now are. Inquiries in the places where these pearls were found resulted in a description of six people, roughly approximating to those people who were supposed to have been burnt