The Man in the Brown Suit - Agatha Christie [58]
Suddenly my heart leapt into my mouth. The man who had followed me crossed to the middle of the road and spoke to a policeman. He spoke at some length, gesticulating towards Cartwright’s and evidently explaining something. I saw the plan at once. I was to be arrested on some charge or other–pocket-picking, perhaps. It would be easy enough for the gang to put through a simple little matter like that. Of what good to protest my innocence? They would have seen to every detail. Long ago they had brought a charge of robbing De Beers against Harry Rayburn, and he had not been able to disprove it, though I had little doubt but that he had been absolutely blameless. What chance had I against such a ‘frame up’ as the ‘Colonel’ could devise?
I glanced up at the clock almost mechanically, and immediately another aspect of the case struck me. I saw the point of Guy Pagett’s looking at his watch. It was just on eleven, and at eleven the mail train left for Rhodesia bearing with it the influential friends who might otherwise come to my rescue. That was the reason of my immunity up to now. From last night till eleven this morning I had been safe, but now the net was closing in upon me.
I hurriedly opened my bag and paid for my drinks, and as I did so, my heart seemed to stand still, for inside it was a man’s wallet stuffed with notes! It must have been deftly introduced into my handbag as I left the tram.
Promptly I lost my head. I hurried out of Cartwright’s. The little man with the big nose and the policeman were just crossing the road. They saw me, and the little man designated me excitedly to the policeman. I took to my heels and ran. I judged him to be a slow policeman. I should get a start. But I had no plan, even then. I just ran for my life down Adderley Street. People began to stare. I felt that in another minute someone would stop me.
An idea flashed into my head.
‘The station?’ I asked, in a breathless gasp.
‘Just down on the right.’
I sped on. It is permissible to run for a train. I turned into the station, but as I did so I heard footsteps close behind me. The little man with the big nose was a champion sprinter. I foresaw that I should be stopped before I got to the platform I was in search of. I looked up to the clock–one minute to eleven. I might just do it if my plan succeeded.
I had entered the station by the main entrance in Adderley Street. I now darted out again through the side exit. Directly opposite me was the side entrance to the post office, the main entrance to which is in Adderley Street.
As I expected, my pursuer, instead of following me in, ran down the street to cut me off when I emerged by the main entrance, or to warn the policeman to do so.
In an instant I slipped across the street again and back into the station. I ran like a lunatic. It was just eleven. The long train was moving as I appeared on the platform. A porter tried to stop me, but I wriggled myself out of his grasp and sprang upon the foot-board. I mounted the two steps and opened the gate. I was safe! The train was gathering way.
We passed a man standing by himself at the end of the platform. I waved to him.
‘Goodbye Mr Pagett,’ I shouted.
Never have I seen a man more taken aback. He looked as though he had seen a ghost.
In a minute or two I was having trouble with the conductor. But I took a lofty tone.
‘I am Sir Eustace Pedler’s secretary,’ I said haughtily. ‘Please take me to his private car.’
Suzanne and Colonel Race were standing on the rear observation platform. They both uttered an exclamation of utter surprise at seeing me.
‘Hullo, Miss Anne,’ cried Colonel Race, ‘where have you turned up from? I thought you’d gone to Durban. What an unexpected person you are!’
Suzanne said nothing, but her eyes asked a hundred questions.
‘I must report myself to my chief,’ I said demurely. ‘Where is he?’
‘He’s in the office–middle compartment–dictating at an incredible rate to the unfortunate Miss Pettigrew.’
‘This enthusiasm for work is something