Passenger to Frankfurt - Agatha Christie [92]
Colonel Munro said, ‘I don’t understand what the hell you’re all talking about.’
Miss Neumann said, ‘He’s talking nonsense. You have to take Professor Shoreham’s answer. He will do what he likes with his own discoveries. You can’t coerce him.’
‘No,’ said Lord Altamount. ‘We’re not going to coerce you or torture you, Robert, or force you to reveal your hiding-places. You’ll do what you think right. That’s agreed.’
‘Edward?’ said Robert Shoreham. His speech failed him slightly again, his hands moved in gesture, and Miss Neumann translated quickly.
‘Edward? He says you are Edward Altamount?’
Shoreham spoke again and she took the words from him.
‘He asks you, Lord Altamount, if you are definitely, with your whole heart and mind, asking him to put Project Benvo in your jurisdiction. He says–’ she paused, watching, listening–‘he says you are the only man in public life that he ever trusted. If it is your wish–’
James Kleek was suddenly on his feet. Anxious, quick to move like lightning, he stood by Lord Altamount’s chair.
‘Let me help you up, sir. You’re ill. You’re not well. Please stand back a little, Miss Neumann. I–I must get to him. I–I have his remedies here. I know what to do–’
His hand went into his pocket and came out again with a hypodermic syringe.
‘Unless he gets this at once it’ll be too late–’ He had caught up Lord Altamount’s arm, rolling up his sleeve, pinching the flesh between his fingers, he held the hypodermic ready.
But someone else moved. Horsham was across the room, pushing Colonel Munro aside: his hand closed over James Kleek’s as he wrenched the hypodermic away. Kleek struggled but Horsham was too strong for him. And Munro was now there, too.
‘So it’s been you, James Kleek,’ he said. ‘You who’ve been the traitor, a faithful disciple who wasn’t a faithful disciple.’
Miss Neumann had gone to the door–had flung it open and was calling.
‘Nurse! Come quickly. Come.’
The nurse appeared. She gave one quick glance to Professor Shoreham, but he waved her away and pointed across the room to where Horsham and Munro still held a struggling Kleek. Her hand went into the pocket of her uniform.
Shoreham stammered out, ‘It’s Altamount. A heart attack.’
‘Heart attack, my foot,’ roared Munro. ‘It’s attempted murder.’ He stopped.
‘Hold the chap,’ he said to Horsham, and leapt across the room.
‘Mrs Cortman? Since when have you entered the nursing profession? We’d rather lost sight of you since you gave us the slip in Baltimore.’
Milly Jean was still wrestling with her pocket. Now her hand came out with the small automatic in it. She glanced towards Shoreham but Munro blocked her, and Lisa Neumann was standing in front of Shoreham’s chair.
James Kleek yelled, ‘Get Altamount, Juanita–quick–get Altamount.’
Her arm flashed up and she fired.
James Kleek said,
‘Damned good shot!’
Lord Altamount had had a classical education. He murmured faintly, looking at James Kleek,
‘Jamie? Et tu Brute?’ and collapsed against the back of his chair.
III
Dr McCulloch looked round him, a little uncertain of what he was going to do or say next. The evening had been a somewhat unusual experience for him.
Lisa Neumann came to him and set a glass by his side.
‘A hot toddy,’ she said.
‘I always knew you were a woman in a thousand, Lisa.’ He sipped appreciatively.
‘I must say I’d like to know what all this has been about–but I gather it’s the sort of thing that’s so hush-hush that nobody’s going to tell me anything.’
‘The Professor–he’s all right, isn’t he?’
‘The Professor?’ He looked at her anxious face, kindly. ‘He’s fine. If you ask me, it’s done him a world of good.’
‘I thought perhaps the shock–’
‘I’m quite all right,’ said Shoreham. ‘Shock treatment is what I needed. I feel–how shall I put it–alive again.’ He looked surprised.
McCulloch said to Lisa, ‘Notice how much stronger his voice is? It’s apathy really that’s the enemy in these cases–what he wants is to work