The Man in the Brown Suit - Agatha Christie [51]
‘All bluff. They haven’t an idea where she is.’
‘She spoke very positively.’
‘I dare say. I’ve looked into the matter, and we’ve nothing to fear. Anyway, it’s the “Colonel’s” orders. You don’t want to go against them, I suppose?’
The Dutchman ejaculated something in his own language. I judged it to be a hasty disclaimer.
‘But why not knock her on the head?’ he growled. ‘It would be simple. The boat is all ready. She could be taken out to sea.’
‘Yes,’ said Chichester meditatively. ‘That is what I should do. She knows too much, that is certain. But the “Colonel” is a man who likes to play a lone hand–though no one else must do so.’ Something in his own words seemed to awaken a memory that annoyed him. ‘He wants information of some kind from this girl.’
He had paused before the ‘information’, and the Dutchman was quick to catch him up.
‘Information?’
‘Something of the kind.’
‘Diamonds,’ I said to myself.
‘And now,’ continued Chichester, ‘give me the lists.’
For a long time their conversation was quite incomprehensible to me. It seemed to deal with large quantities of vegetables. Dates were mentioned, prices, and various names of places which I did not know. It was quite half an hour before they had finished their checking and counting.
‘Good,’ said Chichester, and there was a sound as though he pushed back his chair. ‘I will take these with me for the “Colonel” to see.’
‘When do you leave?’
‘Ten o’clock tomorrow morning will do.’
‘Do you want to see the girl before you go?’
‘No. There are strict orders that no one is to see her until the “Colonel” comes. Is she all right?’
‘I looked in on her when I came in for dinner. She was asleep, I think. What about food?’
‘A little starvation will do no harm. The “Colonel” will be here some time tomorrow. She will answer questions better if she is hungry. No one had better go near her till then. Is she securely tied up?’
The Dutchman laughed.
‘What do you think?’
They both laughed. So did I, under my breath. Then, as the sounds seemed to betoken that they were about to come out of the room, I beat a hasty retreat. I was just in time. As I reached the head of the stairs, I heard the door of the room open, and at the same time the Kafir stirred and moved. My retreat by the way of the hall door was not to be thought of. I retired prudently to the attic, gathered my bonds round me and lay down again on the floor, in case they should take it into their heads to come and look at me.
They did not do so, however. After about an hour, I crept down the stairs, but the Kafir by the door was awake and humming softly to himself. I was anxious to get out of the house, but I did not quite see how to manage it.
In the end, I was forced to retreat to the attic again. The Kafir was clearly on guard for the night. I remained there patiently all through the sounds of early morning preparation. The men breakfasted in the hall, I could hear their voices distinctly floating up the stairs. I was getting thoroughly unnerved. How on earth was I to get out of the house?
I counselled myself to be patient. A rash move might spoil everything. After breakfast came the sounds of Chichester departing. To my intense relief, the Dutchman accompanied him.
I waited breathlessly. Breakfast was being cleared away, the work of the house was being done. At last, the various activities seemed to die down. I slipped out from my lair once more. Very carefully I crept down the stairs. The hall was empty. Like a flash I was across it, had unlatched the door, and was outside in the sunshine. I ran down the drive like one possessed.
Once outside, I resumed a normal walk. People stared at me curiously, and I do not wonder. My face and clothes must have been covered in dust from rolling about in the attic. At last I came to a garage. I went in.
‘I have met with an accident,’ I explained. ‘I want a car to take me to Cape Town at once. I must catch the boat to Durban.’
I had not long to wait. Ten minutes later I was speeding along in the direction