The Man in the Brown Suit
contrary to his usual practice, the ‘Colonel’ himself had been
concerned in this affair, therefore Anita felt satisfied that she
had a real hold over him, should she need it. Carton now proposed
that I should make a bargain with Anita Grünberg, or Nadina, as
she now called herself. For a sufficient sum of money he thought
that she would be willing to give up the diamonds and betray her
former employer. He would cable to her immediately.
“I was still suspicious of Carton. He was a man whom it was easy
enough to frighten, but who, in his fright, would tell so many lies
that to sift the truth out from them would be no easy job. I went
back to the hotel and waited. By the following evening I judged
that he would have received the reply to his cable. I called round
at his house and was told that Mr. Carton was away, but would be
returning on the morrow. Instantly I became suspicious. In the nick
of time I found out that he was in reality sailing for England on
the _Kilmorden Castle,_ which left Cape Town in two days’ time. I
had just time to journey down and catch the same boat.
“I had no intention of alarming Carton by revealing my presence on
board. I had done a good deal of acting in my time at Cambridge,
and it was comparatively easy for me to transform myself into a
grave bearded gentleman of middle age. I avoided Carton carefully
on board the boat, keeping to my own cabin as far as possible under
the pretence of illness.
“I had no difficulty in trailing him when we got to London. He went
straight to an hotel and did not go out until the following day.
He left the hotel shortly before one o’clock. I was behind him. He
went straight to a house-agent in Knightsbridge. There he asked
for particulars of houses to let on the river.
“I was at the next table also inquiring about houses. Then suddenly
in walked Anita Grünberg, Nadina—whatever you like to call her.
Superb, insolent, and almost as beautiful as ever. God! how I hated
her. There she was, the woman who had ruined my life—and who had
also ruined a better life than mine. At that minute I could have
put my hands round her neck and squeezed the life out of her inch
by inch! Just for a minute or two I saw red. I hardly took in what
the agent was saying. It was her voice that I heard next, high and
clear, with an exaggerated foreign accent: ‘The Mill House, Marlow.
The property of Sir Eustace Pedler. That sounds as though it might
suit me. At any rate, I will go and see it.’
“The man wrote her an order, and she walked out again in her regal
insolent manner. Not by word or a sign had she recognized Carton,
yet I was sure that their meeting there was a preconceived plan.
Then I started to jump to conclusions. Not knowing that Sir Eustace
was at Cannes, I thought that this house-hunting business was a
mere pretext for meeting him in the Mill House. I knew that he had
been in South Africa at the time of the robbery, and never having
seen him I immediately leaped to the conclusion that he himself
was the mysterious ‘Colonel’ of whom I had heard so much.
“I followed my two suspects along Knightsbridge. Nadina went into
the Hyde Park Hotel. I quickened my pace and went in also. She
walked straight into the restaurant, and I decided that I would
not risk her recognizing me at the moment, but would continue to
follow Carton. I was in great hopes that he was going to get the
diamonds, and that by suddenly appearing and making myself known
to him when he least expected it I might startle the truth out of
him. I followed him down into the Tube station at Hyde Park Corner.
He was standing by himself at the end of the platform. There was
some girl standing near, but no one else. I decided that I would
accost him then and there. You know what happened. In the sudden
shock of seeing a man whom he imagined far away in South Africa,
he lost his head and stepped back upon the line. He was always a
coward. Under the pretext of being a doctor, I managed to search
his pockets. There was a wallet with some notes in it and one or
two unimportant letters, there was a roll of films—which I must
have dropped somewhere later—and there was a piece of paper with
an appointment made on it for the 22nd on the _Kilmorden_ Castle.
In my haste to get away before any one detained me, I dropped that
also, but fortunately I remembered the figures.
“I hurried to the nearest cloak-room and hastily removed my make-up.
I did not want to be laid by the heels for picking a dead man’s
pocket. Then I retraced my steps to the Hyde Park Hotel. Nadina
was still having lunch. I needn’t describe in detail how I followed
her down to Marlow. She went into the house, and I spoke to the
woman at the lodge, pretending that I was with her. Then I, too,
went in.”
He stopped. There was a tense silence.
“You will believe me, Anne, won’t you? I swear before God that what
I am going to say is true. I went into the house after her with
something very like murder in my heart—and she was dead! I found
her in that first-floor room—God! It was horrible. Dead—and I was
not more than three minutes behind her. And there was no sign of
any one else in the house! Of course I realized at once the terrible
position I was in. By one master-stroke the blackmailed had rid
himself of the blackmailer, and at the same time had provided a
victim to whom the crime would be ascribed. The hand of the
‘Colonel’ was very plain. For the second time I was to be his
victim. Fool that I had been to walk into the trap so easily.
“I hardly know what I did next. I managed to go out of the place
looking fairly normal, but I knew that it could not be long before
the crime was discovered and a description of my appearance
telegraphed all over the country.
“I lay low for some days, not daring to make a move. In the end
chance came to my aid. I overheard a conversation between two
middle-aged gentlemen in the street, one of whom proved to be Sir
Eustace Pedler. I at once conceived the idea of attaching myself
to him as his secretary. The fragment of conversation I had
overheard gave me my clue. I was now no longer so sure that Sir
Eustace Pedler was the ‘Colonel.’ His house might have been
appointed as a rendezvous by accident, or for some obscure motive
that I had not fathomed.”
“Do you know,” I interrupted, “that Guy Pagett was in Marlow at
the date of the murder?”
“That settles it then. I thought he was at Cannes with Sir Eustace.”
“He was supposed to be in Florence—but he certainly never went
_there._ I’m pretty certain he was really in Marlow, but of course
I can’t prove it.”
“And to think I never suspected Pagett for a minute until the night
he tried to throw you overboard. The man’s a marvellous actor.”
“Yes, isn’t he?”
“That explains why the Mill House was chosen. Pagett could probably
get in and out of it unobserved. Of course he made no objection to
my accompanying Sir Eustace across in the boat. He didn’t want me
laid by the heels immediately. You see, evidently Nadina didn’t
bring the jewels with her to the rendezvous as they had counted on
her doing. I fancy that Carton really had them and concealed them
somewhere on the _Kilmorden Castle_—that’s where he came in. They
hoped that I might have some clue as to where they were hidden. As
long as the ‘Colonel’ did not recover the diamonds, he was still
in danger—hence his anxiety to get them at all costs. Where the
devil Carton hid them—if he did hide them, I don’t know.”
“That’s another story,” I quoted. _“My_ story. And I’m going to
tell it you now.”
CHAPTER XXVII
Harry listened attentively whilst I recounted all the events that
I have narrated in these pages. The thing that bewildered and
astonished him most was to find that all along the diamonds had
been in my possession—or rather in Suzanne’s. That was a fact he
had never suspected. Of course, after hearing his story, I realized
the point of Carton’s little arrangement—or rather Nadina’s, since
I had no doubt that it was her brain which had conceived the plan.
No surprise tactics executed against her or her husband could
result in the seizure of the diamonds. The secret was locked in
her own brain, and the “Colonel” was not likely to guess that they
had been entrusted to the keeping of an ocean steward!
Harry’s vindication from the old charge of theft seemed assured.
It was the other, graver charge that paralyzed all our activities.
For, as things stood, he could not come out in the open to prove
his case.
The one thing we came back to, again and again, was the identity
of the “Colonel.” Was he, or was he not, Guy Pagett?
“I should say he was but for one thing,” said Harry. “It seems
pretty much of a certainty that it was Pagett who murdered Anita
Grünberg at Marlow—and that certainly lends colour to the
supposition that he is actually the ‘Colonel,’ since Anita’s
business was not of the nature to be discussed with a subordinate.
No—the only thing that militates against that theory is the attempt
to put you out of the way on the night of your arrival here. You
saw Pagett left behind at Cape Town—by no possible means could he
have arrived here before the following Wednesday. He is unlikely
to have any emissaries in this part of the world, and all his plans
were laid to deal with you in Cape Town. He might, of course, have
cabled instructions to some lieutenant of his in Johannesburg, who
could have joined the Rhodesian train at Mafeking, but his
instructions would have had to be particularly definite to allow
of that note being written.”
We sat silent for a moment, then Harry went on slowly: “You say
that Mrs. Blair was asleep when you left the hotel and that you
heard Sir Eustace dictating to Miss Pettigrew? Where was Colonel
Race?”
“I could not find him anywhere.”
“Had he any reason to believe that—you and I might be friendly with
each other?”
“He might have had,” I answered thoughtfully, remembering our
conversation on the way back from the Matoppos. “He’s a very
powerful personality,” I continued, “but not at all my idea of the
‘Colonel.’ And, anyway, such an idea would be absurd. He’s in the
Secret Service.”
“How do we know that he is? It’s the easiest thing in the world to
throw out a hint of that kind. No one contradicts it, and the
rumour spreads until every one believes it as gospel truth. It
provides an excuse for all sorts of doubtful doings. Anne, do you
like Race?”
“I do—and I don’t. He repels me and at the same time fascinates
me; but I know one thing, I’m always a little afraid of him.”
“He was in South Africa, you know, at the time of the Kimberley
robbery,” said Harry slowly.
“But it was he who told Suzanne all about the ‘Colonel’ and how he
had been in Paris trying to get on his track.”
_“Camouflage_—of a particularly clever kind.”
“But where does Pagett come in? Is he in Race’s pay?”
“Perhaps,” said Harry slowly, “he doesn’t come in at all.”
“What?”
“Think back, Anne. Did you ever hear Pagett’s own account of that
night on the _Kilmorden?”_
“Yes—through Sir Eustace.”
I repeated it. Harry listened closely.
“He saw a man coming from the direction of Sir Eustace’s cabin and
followed him up on deck. Is that what he says? Now, who had the
cabin opposite to Sir Eustace? Colonel Race. Supposing Colonel Race
crept up on deck, and, foiled in his attack on you, fled round the
deck and met Pagett just coming through the saloon door. He knocks
him down and springs inside, closing the door. We dash round and
find Pagett lying there. How’s that?”
“You forget that he declares positively it was you who knocked him
down.”
“Well, suppose that just as he regains consciousness he sees me
disappearing in the distance? Wouldn’t he take it for granted that
I was his assailant? Especially as he thought all along it was I