Spider's Web - Agatha Christie [16]
Henry wore an air of pleasured anticipation. ‘Well,’ he admitted, ‘it is rather exciting in a way.’ He paused, then added, ‘As it happens, there’s a slight fog in London.’
‘Is that very exciting?’ Clarissa asked.
‘No, no, not the fog, of course.’
‘Well?’ Clarissa urged him.
Henry looked quickly around, as though to assure himself that he could not be overheard, and then went across to the sofa to sit beside Clarissa. ‘You’ll have to keep this to yourself,’ he impressed upon her, his voice very grave.
‘Yes?’ Clarissa prompted him, hopefully.
‘It’s really very secret,’ Henry reiterated. ‘Nobody’s supposed to know. But, actually, you’ll have to know.’
‘Well, come on, tell me,’ she urged him.
Henry looked around again, and then turned to Clarissa. ‘It’s all very hush-hush,’ he insisted. He paused for effect, and then announced, ‘The Soviet Premier, Kalendorff, is flying to London for an important conference with the Prime Minister tomorrow.’
Clarissa was unimpressed. ‘Yes, I know,’ she replied.
Henry looked startled. ‘What do you mean, you know?’ he demanded.
‘I read it in the paper last Sunday,’ Clarissa informed him casually.
‘I can’t think why you want to read these low-class papers,’ Henry expostulated. He sounded really put out. ‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘the papers couldn’t possibly know that Kalendorff was coming over. It’s top secret.’
‘My poor sweet,’ Clarissa murmured. Then, in a voice in which compassion was mixed with incredulity, she continued, ‘But top secret? Really! The things you high-ups believe.’
Henry rose and began to stride around the room, looking distinctly worried. ‘Oh dear, there must have been some leak,’ he muttered.
‘I should have thought,’ Clarissa observed tartly, ‘that by now you’d know there always is a leak. In fact I should have thought that you’d all be prepared for it.’
Henry looked somewhat affronted. ‘The news was only released officially tonight,’ he told her. ‘Kalendorff’s plane is due at Heathrow at eight-forty, but actually–’ He leaned over the sofa and looked doubtfully at his wife. ‘Now, Clarissa,’ he asked her very solemnly, ‘can I really trust you to be discreet?’
‘I’m much more discreet than any Sunday newspaper,’ Clarissa protested, swinging her feet off the sofa and sitting up.
Henry sat on an arm of the sofa and leaned towards Clarissa conspiratorially. ‘The conference will be at Whitehall tomorrow,’ he informed her, ‘but it would be a great advantage if a conversation could take place first between Sir John himself and Kalendorff. Now, naturally the reporters are all waiting at Heathrow, and the moment the plane arrives Kalendorff’s movements are more or less public property.’
He looked around again, as though expecting to find gentlemen of the press peering over his shoulder, and continued, in a tone of increasing excitement, ‘Fortunately, this incipient fog has played into our hands.’
‘Go on,’ Clarissa encouraged him. ‘I’m thrilled, so far.’
‘At the last moment,’ Henry informed her, ‘the plane will find it inadvisable to land at Heathrow. It will be diverted, as is usual on these occasions–’
‘To Bindley Heath,’ Clarissa interrupted him. ‘That’s just fifteen miles from here. I see.’
‘You’re always very quick, Clarissa dear,’ Henry commented somewhat disapprovingly. ‘But yes, I shall go off there now to the aerodrome in the car, meet Kalendorff, and bring him here. The Prime Minister is motoring down here direct from Downing Street. Half an hour will be ample for what they have to discuss, and then Kalendorff will travel up to London with Sir John.’
Henry paused. He got up and took a few paces away, before turning to say to her, disarmingly, ‘You know, Clarissa, this may be of very great value to me in my career. I mean, they’re reposing a lot of trust in me, having this meeting here.’
‘So they should,’ Clarissa replied firmly, going to her husband and flinging her arms around him. ‘Henry, darling,’ she exclaimed, ‘I think it’s all