Passenger to Frankfurt - Agatha Christie [25]
‘There’s nothing to tell,’ said Sir Stafford.
‘You always were quite an accomplished liar. Well, never mind. You bring her to see me some time. That’s all I’d like, before the doctors succeed in killing me with yet another type of antibiotic that they’ve just discovered. The different coloured pills I’ve had to take by this time! You wouldn’t believe it.’
‘I don’t know why you say “she” and “her”–’
‘Don’t you? Oh, well, I know a she when I come across a she. There’s a she somewhere dodging about in your life. What beats me is how you found her. In Malaya, at the conference table? Ambassador’s daughter or minister’s daughter? Good-looking secretary from the Embassy pool? No, none of it seems to fit. Ship coming home? No, you don’t use ships nowadays. Plane, perhaps.’
‘You are getting slightly nearer,’ Sir Stafford Nye could not help saying.
‘Ah!’ She pounced. ‘Air hostess?’
He shook his head.
‘Ah well. Keep your secret. I shall find out, mind you. I’ve always had a good nose for things going on where you’re concerned. Things generally as well. Of course I’m out of everything nowadays, but I meet my old cronies from time to time and it’s quite easy, you know, to get a hint or two from them. People are worried. Everywhere–they’re worried.’
‘You mean there’s a general kind of discontent–upset?’
‘No, I didn’t mean that at all. I mean the highups are worried. Our awful governments are worried. The dear old sleepy Foreign Office is worried. There are things going on, things that shouldn’t be. Unrest.’
‘Student unrest?’
‘Oh, student unrest is just one flower on the tree. It’s blossoming everywhere and in every country, or so it seems. I’ve got a nice girl who comes, you know, and reads the papers to me in the mornings. I can’t read them properly myself. She’s got a nice voice. Takes down my letters and she reads things from the papers and she’s a good kind girl. She reads the things I want to know, not the things that she thinks are right for me to know. Yes, everyone’s worried, as far as I can make out and this, mind you, came more or less from a very old friend of mine.’
‘One of your old military cronies?’
‘He’s a major-general, if that’s what you mean, retired a good many years ago but still in the know. Youth is what you might call the spearhead of it all. But that’s not really what’s so worrying. They–whoever they are–work through youth. Youth in every country. Youth urged on. Youth chanting slogans, slogans that sound exciting, though they don’t always know what they mean. So easy to start a revolution. That’s natural to youth. All youth has always rebelled. You rebel, you pull down, you want the world to be different from what it is. But you’re blind, too. There are bandages over the eyes of youth. They can’t see where things are taking them. What’s going to come next? What’s in front of them? And who it is behind them, urging them on? That’s what’s frightening about it. You know, someone holding out the carrot to get the donkey to come along and at the same time there is someone behind the donkey urging it on with a stick.’
‘You’ve got some extraordinary fancies.’
‘They’re not only fancies, my dear boy. That’s what people said about Hitler. Hitler and the Hitler Youth. But it was a long careful preparation. It was a war that was worked out in detail. It was a fifth column being planted in different countries all ready for the supermen. The supermen were to be the flower of the German nation. That’s what they thought and believed in passionately. Somebody else is perhaps believing something like that now. It’s a creed that they’ll be willing to accept–if it’s offered cleverly enough.’
‘Who are you talking about? Do you mean the Chinese or the Russians? What do you mean?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t the faintest idea. But there’s something somewhere, and it’s running on the same lines. Pattern again, you see. Pattern! The Russians? Bogged down by Communism, I should think they’re considered old-fashioned.