The Man in the Brown Suit - Agatha Christie [40]
‘What enthusiasm!’
‘Well, isn’t it lovely this morning?’
We leant together over the rail. It was a glassy calm. The sea looked as though it had been oiled. There were great patches of colour on it, blue, pale green, emerald, purple and deep orange, like a cubist picture. There was an occasional flash of silver that showed the flying fish. The air was moist and warm, almost sticky. Its breath was like a perfumed caress.
‘That was a very interesting story you told us last night,’ I said, breaking the silence.
‘Which one?’
‘The one about the diamonds.’
‘I believe women are always interested in diamonds.’
‘Of course we are. By the way, what became of the other young man? You said there were two of them.’
‘Young Lucas? Well, of course, they couldn’t prosecute one without the other, so he went scot-free too.’
‘And what happened to him?–eventually, I mean. Does anyone know?’
Colonel Race was looking straight ahead of him out to sea. His face was as devoid of expression as a mask, but I had an idea that he did not like my questions. Nevertheless, he replied readily enough.
‘He went to the War and acquitted himself bravely. He was reported missing and wounded–believed killed.’
That told me what I wanted to know. I asked no more. But more than ever I wondered how much Colonel Race knew. The part he was playing in all this puzzled me.
One other thing I did. That was to interview the night steward. With a little financial encouragement, I soon got him to talk.
‘The lady wasn’t frightened, was she miss? It seemed a harmless sort of joke. A bet, or so I understood.’
I got it all out of him, little by little. On the voyage from Cape Town to England one of the passengers had handed him a roll of film with instructions that they were to be dropped on to the bunk in Cabin 71 at 1 am on January 22nd on the outward journey. A lady would be occupying the cabin, and the affair was described as a bet. I gathered the steward had been liberally paid for his part in the transaction. The lady’s name had not been mentioned. Of course, as Mrs Blair went straight into Cabin 71, interviewing the purser as soon as she got on board, it never occurred to the steward that she was not the lady in question. The name of the passenger who had arranged the transaction was Carton, and his description tallied exactly with that of the man killed on the Tube.
So one mystery, at all events, was cleared up, and the diamonds were obviously the key to the whole situation.
Those last days on the Kilmorden seemed to pass very quickly. As we drew nearer and nearer to Cape Town, I was forced to consider carefully my future plans. There were so many people I wanted to keep an eye on. Mr Chichester, Sir Eustace and his secretary, and–yes, Colonel Race! What was I to do about it? Naturally it was Chichester who had first claim on my attention. Indeed, I was on the point of reluctantly dismissing Sir Eustace and Mr Pagett from their position of suspicious characters when a chance conversation awakened fresh doubts in my mind.
I had forgotten Mr Pagett’s incomprehensible emotion at the mention of Florence. On the last evening on board we were all sitting on deck and Sir Eustace addressed a perfectly innocent question to his secretary. I forget exactly what it was, something to do with railway delays in Italy, but at once I noticed that Mr Pagett was displaying the same uneasiness which had caught my attention before. When Sir Eustace claimed Mrs Blair for a dance, I quickly moved into the chair next to the secretary. I was determined to get to the bottom of the matter.
‘I have always longed to go to Italy,’ I said. ‘And especially to Florence. Didn’t you enjoy it very much there?’
‘Indeed I did, Miss Beddingfeld. If you will excuse me, there is some correspondence of Sir Eustace’s that–’
I took hold of him firmly by his coat sleeve.
‘Oh, you mustn’t run away!’ I cried with the skittish accent of an elderly dowager. ‘I’m sure Sir Eustace wouldn’t like you to leave me alone with no one to talk to. You never