Postern of Fate (Tommy and Tuppence Series) - Agatha Christie [42]
‘Cold afternoon,’ said Johnson, showing a friendly attitude to someone who was clearly being allowed to approach the high one in the highest.
‘Yes,’ said Tommy, ‘it always seems to be cold in the afternoons.’
‘Some say it’s pollution, some say it’s all the natural gas they’re taking out of the North Sea,’ said Johnson.
‘Oh, I haven’t heard that,’ said Tommy.
‘Doesn’t seem likely to me,’ said Johnson.
They passed the second floor and the third floor and finally arrived at the fourth floor. Johnson led Tommy, again escaping the closing doors by a mere inch, along a passage to a door. He knocked, was told to enter, held the door open, insinuated Tommy across the threshold, and said:
‘Mr Beresford, sir. By appointment.’
He went out and shut the door behind him. Tommy advanced. The room seemed to be mainly filled by an enormous desk. Behind the desk sat a rather enormous man, a man of great weight and many inches. He had, as Tommy had been prepared for by his friend, a very large and yellow face. What nationality he was Tommy had no idea. He might have been anything. Tommy had a feeling he was probably foreign. A German, perhaps? Or an Austrian? Possibly a Japanese. Or else he might be very decidedly English.
‘Ah. Mr Beresford.’
Mr Robinson got up, shook hands.
‘I’m sorry if I come taking a lot of your time,’ said Tommy.
He had a feeling he had once seen Mr Robinson before or had had Mr Robinson pointed out to him. Anyway on the occasion, whatever it had been, he had been rather shy about it because obviously Mr Robinson was someone very important, and, he now gathered (or rather felt at once) he was still very important.
‘There’s something you want to know about, I gather. Your friend, What’s-his-name, just gave me a brief résumé.’
‘I don’t suppose–I mean, it’s something perhaps I oughtn’t to bother you about. I don’t suppose it’s anything of any importance. It was just–just–’
‘Just an idea?’
‘Partly my wife’s idea.’
‘I’ve heard about your wife. I’ve heard about you, too. Let me see, the last time was M or N wasn’t it? Or N or M. Mm. I remember. Remember all the facts and things. You got that Commander chap, didn’t you? The one who was in the English Navy supposedly but was actually a very important Hun. I still call them Huns occasionally, you know. Of course I know we’re all different now we’re in the Common Market. All in the nursery school together, as you might say. I know. You did a good bit of work there. Very good bit indeed. And so did your missus. My word. All those children’s books. I remember. Goosey, Goosey Gander wasn’t it–the one that gave the show away? Where do you wander? Upstairs and downstairs and in my lady’s chamber.’
‘Fancy you remembering that,’ said Tommy, with great respect.
‘Yes, I know. One’s always surprised when one remembers something. It just came back to me at that minute. So silly, you know, that really you’d never have suspected it of being anything else, would you?’
‘Yes, it was a good show.’
‘Now, what’s the matter now? What are you up against?’
‘Well, it’s nothing, really,’ said Tommy. ‘It’s just–’
‘Come on, put it in your own words. You needn’t make a thing of it. Just tell me the story. Sit down. Take the weight off your feet. Don’t you know–or you will know, when you’re some years older–resting your feet is important.’
‘I’m old enough already, I should think,’ said Tommy. ‘There can’t be much ahead of me now except a coffin, in due course.’
‘Oh I wouldn’t say that. I tell you, once you get above a certain age you can go on living practically for ever. Now then, what’s all this about?’
‘Well,’ said Tommy, ‘briefly, my wife and I went into a new house and there was all the fuss of getting into a new house–’
‘I know,’ said Mr Robinson, ‘yes, I know the sort of thing. Electricians all over the floor. They pick holes and you fall into them and–’
‘There were some books there