The Man in the Brown Suit Agatha Christie (i read books .TXT) đ
- Author: Agatha Christie
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âVery well, thank youâ âlooking forward to taking up my work again with Sir Eustace.â
âMr. Pagett,â I said, âthere is something I want to ask you. I hope that you wonât be offended, but a lot hangs on it, more than you can possibly guess. I want to know what you were doing at Marlow on the 8th of January last?â
He started violently.
âReally, Miss Beddingfeldâ âIâ âindeedâ ââ
âYou were there, werenât you?â
âIâ âfor reasons of my own I was in the neighbourhood, yes.â
âWonât you tell me what those reasons were?â
âSir Eustace has not already told you?â
âSir Eustace? Does he know?â
âI am almost sure that he does. I hoped he had not recognized me, but from the hints he has let drop, and his remarks, I fear it is only too certain. In any case, I meant to make a clean breast of the matter and offer him my resignation. He is a peculiar man, Miss Beddingfeld, with an abnormal sense of humour. It seems to amuse him to keep me on tenterhooks. All the time, I dare say, he was perfectly well aware of the true facts. Possibly he has known them for years.â
I hoped that sooner or later I should be able to understand what Pagett was talking about. He went on fluently:
âIt is difficult for a man of Sir Eustaceâs standing to put himself in my position. I know that I was in the wrong, but it seemed a harmless deception. I would have thought it better taste on his part to have tackled me outrightâ âinstead of indulging in covert jokes at my expense.â
A whistle blew, and the people began to surge back into the train.
âYes, Mr. Pagett,â I broke in, âIâm sure I quite agree with all youâre saying about Sir Eustace. But why did you go to Marlow?â
âIt was wrong of me, but natural under the circumstancesâ âyes, I still feel natural under the circumstances.â
âWhat circumstances?â I cried desperately.
For the first time Pagett seemed to recognize that I was asking him a question. His mind detached itself from the peculiarities of Sir Eustace and his own justification and came to rest on me.
âI beg your pardon, Miss Beddingfeld,â he said stiffly, âbut I fail to see your concern in the matter.â
He was back in the train now, leaning down to speak to me. I felt desperate. What could one do with a man like that?
âOf course, if itâs so dreadful that youâd be ashamed to speak of it to meâ ââ âŠâ I began spitefully.
At last I had found the right stop. Pagett stiffened and flushed.
âDreadful? Ashamed? I donât understand you.â
âThen tell me.â
In three short sentences he told me. At last I knew Pagettâs secret! It was not in the least what I expected.
I walked slowly back to the hotel. There a wire was handed to me. I tore it open. It contained full and definite instructions for me to proceed forthwith to Johannesburg, or rather to a station this side of Johannesburg, where I should be met by a car. It was signed, not Andy, but Harry.
I sat down in a chair to do some very serious thinking.
XXXI(From the diary of Sir Eustace Pedler)
Johannesburg,
March 7th.
Pagett has arrived. He is in a blue funk of course. Suggested at once that we should go off to Pretoria. Then, when I had told him kindly but firmly that we were going to remain here, he went to the other extreme, wished he had his rifle here, and began bucking about some bridge he guarded during the Great War. A railway bridge at Little Puddecombe junction, or something of that sort.
I soon cut that short by telling him to unpack the big typewriter. I thought that that would keep him employed for some time, because the typewriter was sure to have gone wrongâ âit always doesâ âand he would have to take it somewhere to be mended. But I had forgotten Pagettâs powers of being in the right.
âIâve already unpacked all the cases, Sir Eustace. The typewriter is in perfect condition.â
âWhat do you meanâ âall the cases?â
âThe two small cases as well.â
âI wish you wouldnât be so officious, Pagett. Those small cases were no business of yours. They belong to Mrs. Blair.â
Pagett looked crestfallen. He hates to make a mistake.
âSo you can just pack them up again neatly,â I continued. âAfter that you can go out and look around you. Joâburg will probably be a heap of smoking ruins by tomorrow, so it may be your last chance.â
I thought that that would get rid of him successfully for the morning, at any rate.
âThere is something I want to say to you when you have the leisure, Sir Eustace.â
âI havenât got it now,â I said hastily. âAt this minute I have absolutely no leisure whatsoever.â
Pagett retired.
âBy the way,â I called after him, âwhat was there in those cases of Mrs. Blairâs?â
âSome fur rugs, and a couple of furâ âhats, I think.â
âThatâs right,â I assented. âShe bought them on the train. They are hatsâ âof a kindâ âthough I hardly wonder at your not recognizing them. I dare say sheâs going to wear one of them at Ascot. What else was there?â
âSome rolls of films and some basketsâ âa lot of basketsâ ââ
âThere would be,â I assured him. âMrs. Blair is the kind of woman who never buys less than a dozen or so of anything.â
âI think thatâs all, Sir Eustace, except some miscellaneous odds and ends, a motor-veil and some odd glovesâ âthat sort of thing.â
âIf you hadnât been a born idiot, Pagett, you would have seen from the start that those couldnât possibly be my belongings.â
âI thought some of them might belong to Miss Pettigrew.â
âAh, that reminds meâ âwhat do you mean by picking me out such a doubtful character as a secretary?â
And I told him about the searching cross-examination I had been put through. Immediately I was sorry, I saw a glint in his eye that I knew only too well. I changed the conversation hurriedly. But it was too late. Pagett was on the warpath.
He next
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