Passenger to Frankfurt - Agatha Christie [55]
‘Come, come,’ said Monsieur Poissonier, ‘you must be careful what you suggest.’
‘Ma foi, why should I be careful? Things need bringing into the open. We have had frauds before, gigantic frauds and there is money now circulating around. Money, and we do not know where it comes from, but the Préfecture have said to me–and I believe it–that they begin to get an idea of where it is going. Do we contemplate, can we contemplate a corrupt state subsidized from some outside source?’
‘In Italy too,’ said Signor Vitelli, ‘in Italy, ah, I could tell you things. Yes, I could tell you of what we suspect. But who, who is corrupting our world? A group of industrialists, a group of tycoons? How could such a thing be so.’
‘This business has got to stop,’ said Monsieur Grosjean. ‘Action must be taken. Military action. Action from the Air Force. These anarchists, these marauders, they come from every class. It must be put down.’
‘Control by tear gas has been fairly successful,’ said Poissonier dubiously.
‘Tear gas is not enough,’ said Monsieur Grosjean. ‘The same result could be got by setting students to peel bunches of onions. Tears would flow from their eyes. It needs more than that.’
Monsieur Poissonier said in a shocked voice:
‘You are not suggesting the use of nuclear weapons?’
‘Nuclear weapons? Quelle blague! What can we do with nuclear weapons. What would become of the soil of France, of the air of France if we use nuclear weapons? We can destroy Russia, we know that. We also know that Russia can destroy us.’
‘You’re not suggesting that groups of marching and demonstrating students could destroy our authoritarian forces?’
‘That is exactly what I am suggesting. I have had a warning of such things. Of stock-piling of arms, and various forms of chemical warfare and of other things. I have had reports from some of our eminent scientists. Secrets are known. Stores–held in secret–weapons of warfare have been stolen. What is to happen next, I ask you. What is to happen next?’
The question was answered unexpectedly and with more rapidity than Monsieur Grosjean could possibly have calculated. The door opened and his principal secretary approached his master, his face showing urgent concern. Monsieur Grosjean looked at him with displeasure.
‘Did I not say I wanted no interruptions?’
‘Yes indeed, Monsieur le Président, but this is somewhat unusual–’ He bent towards his master’s ear. ‘The Marshal is here. He demands entrance.’
‘The Marshal? You mean–’
The secretary nodded his head vigorously several times to show that he did mean. Monsieur Poissonier looked at his colleague in perplexity.
‘He demands admission. He will not take refusal.’
The two other men in the room looked first at Grosjean and then at the agitated Italian.
‘Would it not be better,’ said Monsieur Coin, the Minister for Home Affairs, ‘if–’
He paused at the ‘if ’ as the door was once more flung open and a man strode in. A very well-known man. A man whose word had been not only law, but above law in the country of France for many past years. To see him at this moment was an unwelcome surprise for those sitting there.
‘Ah, I welcome you, dear colleagues,’ said the Marshal. ‘I come to help you. Our country is in danger. Action must be taken, immediate action! I come to put myself at your service. I take over all responsibility for acting in this crisis. There may be danger. I know there is, but honour is above danger. The salvation of France is above danger. They march this way now. A vast herd of students, of criminals who have been released from jails, some of them who