The Man in the Brown Suit - Agatha Christie [73]
‘The De Beers robbery was discovered, and like a thunderclap the police came down upon us. They seized our diamonds. We only laughed at first–the whole thing was so absurd. And then the diamonds were produced in court–and without question they were the stones stolen from De Beers. Anita Grünberg had disappeared. She had effected the substitution neatly enough, and our story that these were not the stones originally in our possession was laughed to scorn.
‘Sir Laurence Eardsley had enormous influence. He succeeded in getting the case dismissed–but it left two young men ruined and disgraced to face the world with the stigma of thief attached to their name, and it pretty well broke the old fellow’s heart. He had one bitter interview with his son in which he heaped upon him every reproach imaginable. He had done what he could to save the family name, but from that day on his son was his son no longer. He cast him off utterly. And the boy, like the proud young fool that he was, remained silent, disdaining to protest his innocence in the face of his father’s disbelief. He came out furious from the interview–his friend was waiting for him. A week later, war was declared. The two friends enlisted together. You know what happened. The best pal a man ever had was killed, partly through his own mad recklessness in rushing into unnecessary danger. He died with his name tarnished…
‘I swear to you, Anne, that it was mainly on his account that I was so bitter against that woman. It had gone deeper with him than with me. I had been madly in love with her for the moment–I even think that I frightened her sometimes–but with him it was a quieter and deeper feeling. She had been the very centre of his universe–and her betrayal of him tore up the very roots of life. The blow stunned him and left him paralysed.’
Harry paused. After a minute or two he went on:
‘As you know, I was reported “Missing, presumed killed”. I never troubled to correct the mistake. I took the name of Parker and came to this island, which I knew of old. At the beginning of the War I had had ambitious hopes of proving my innocence, but now all that spirit seemed dead. All I felt was, “What’s the good?” My pal was dead, neither he nor I had any living relations who would care. I was supposed to be dead too; let it remain at that. I led a peaceful existence here, neither happy nor unhappy–numbed of all feeling. I see now, though I did not realize it at the time, that that was partly the effect of the War.
‘And then one day something occurred to wake me right up again. I was taking a party of people in my boat on a trip up the river, and I was standing at the landing-stage, helping them in, when one of the men uttered a startled exclamation. It focused my attention on him. He was a small, thin man with a beard, and he was staring at me for all he was worth as though I was a ghost. So powerful was his emotion that it awakened my curiosity. I made inquiries about him at the hotel and learned that his name was Carton, that he came from Kimberley, and that he was a diamond-sorter employed by De Beers. In a minute all the old sense of wrong surged over me again. I left the island and went to Kimberley.
‘I could find out little more about him, however. In the end, I decided that I must force an interview. I took my revolver with me. In the brief glimpse I had had of him, I had realized that he was a physical coward. No sooner were we face to face than I recognized that he was afraid of me. I soon forced him to tell