The Man in the Brown Suit - Agatha Christie [62]
Suzanne, however, negatived these ideas very strongly. She refused to believe that Guy Pagett was the ruling spirit. The real head–the ‘Colonel’–was somewhere in the background and had probably been already in Africa at the time of our arrival.
I agreed that there was much to be said for her view, but I was not entirely satisfied. For in each suspicious instance Pagett had been shown as the directing genius. It was true that his personality seemed to lack the assurance and decision that one would expect from a master criminal–but after all, according to Colonel Race, it was brain-work only that this mysterious leader supplied, and creative genius is often allied to a weak and timorous physical constitution.
‘There speaks the Professor’s daughter,’ interrupted Suzanne, when I had got to this point in my argument.
‘It’s true, all the same. On the other hand, Pagett may be the Grand Vizier, so to speak, of the All Highest.’ I was silent for a minute or two, and then went on musingly: ‘I wish I knew how Sir Eustace made his money!’
‘Suspecting him again?’
‘Suzanne, I’ve got into that state that I can’t help suspecting somebody! I don’t really suspect him–but, after all, he is Pagett’s employer, and he did own the Mill House.’
‘I’ve always heard that he made his money in some way he isn’t anxious to talk about,’ said Suzanne thoughtfully. ‘But that doesn’t necessarily mean crime–it might be tintacks or hair restorer!’
I agreed ruefully.
‘I suppose,’ said Suzanne doubtfully, ‘that we’re not barking up the wrong tree? Being led completely astray, I mean, by assuming Pagett’s complicity? Supposing that, after all, he is a perfectly honest man?’
I considered that for a minute or two, then I shook my head.
‘I can’t believe that.’
‘After all, he has his explanations for everything.’
‘Y–es, but they’re not very convincing. For instance, the night he tried to throw me overboard on the Kilmorden, he says he followed Rayburn up on deck and Rayburn turned and knocked him down. Now we know that’s not true.’
‘No,’ said Suzanne unwillingly. ‘But we only heard the story at second-hand from Sir Eustace. If we’d heard it direct from Pagett himself, it might have been different. You know how people always get a story a little wrong when they repeat it.’
I turned the thing over in my mind.
‘No,’ I said at last, ‘I don’t see any way out. Pagett’s guilty. You can’t get away from the fact that he tried to throw me overboard, and everything else fits in. Why are you so persistent in this new idea of yours?’
‘Because of his face.’
‘His face? But–’
‘Yes, I know what you’re going to say. It’s a sinister face. That’s just it. No man with a face like that could be really sinister. It must be a colossal joke on the part of Nature.’
I did not believe much in Suzanne’s argument. I know a lot about Nature in past ages. If she’s got a sense of humour, she doesn’t show it much. Suzanne is just the sort of person who would clothe Nature with all her own attributes.
We passed on to discuss our immediate plans. It was clear to me that I must have some kind of standing. I couldn’t go on avoiding explanations for ever. The solution of all my difficulties lay ready to my hand, though I didn’t think of it for some time. The Daily Budget! My silence or my speech could no longer affect Harry Rayburn. He was marked down as ‘The Man in the Brown Suit’ through no fault of mine. I could help him best by seeming to be against him. The ‘Colonel