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    Passenger to Frankfurt

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    ; 23

      'Yes. One's bored' stiff in these airports. Planes comin

      planes going. Tannoy going full steam ahead. Flight 3(

      leaving for Hong Kong, Flight 109 going to Ireland. Tfc

      that and the other. People getting up, people leaving. Ai

      you just sit there yawning.'

      'What happened exactly?' said Chetwynd.

      'Well, I'd got a drink in front of me, Pilsner as a matt

      of fact, then I thought I'd got to get something else to rea

      I'd read everything I'd got with me so I went over to tl

      counter and bought some wretched paperback or other:

      Detective story, I think it was, and I bought a woolly

      animal for one of my nieces. Then I came back, finism i

      my drink, opened my paperback and then I went to sleep '

      'Yes, I see. You went to sleep.'

      'Well, a very natural thing to do, isn't it? I suppose the called my flight but if they did I didn't hear it. I didn :

      hear it apparently for the best of reasons. I'm capable
      going to sleep in an airport any time but I'm also capab

      of hearing an announcement that concerns me. This tin :. I didn't. When I woke up, or came to, however you lil
      to put it, I was having a bit of medical attention. Somi

      body apparently had dropped a Mickey Finn or somethini- or other in my drink. Must have done it when I was away

      getting the paperback.'

      'Rather an extraordinary things to happen, wasn't it'/'

      said Chetwynd.

      'Well, it's never happened to me before,' said Stafford

      Nye. 'I hope it never will again. It makes you feel an awfi;;

      fool, you know. Besides having a hangover. There was s doctor and some nurse creature, or something. Anyway.

      there was no great harm done apparently. My wallet ha":

      been pinched with some money in it and my passport. It we;

      awkward of course. Fortunately, I hadn't got much money

      My travellers' cheques were in an inner pocket. There alway- has to be a bit of red tape and all that if you lose yol;

      passport. Anyway, I had letters and things and identificatio':

      was not difficult. And in due course things were, square.

      up and I resumed my flight.'

      'Still, very annoying for you,' said Chetwynd. 'A perso of

      your status, I mean.' His tone was disapproving.

      'Yes,' said Stafford Nye. 'It doesn't show me in a ver

      good light, does it? I mean, not as bright as a fellow c

      my--er--status ought to be.' The idea seemed to amuse him

      'Does this often happen, did you find out?'

      *I don't think it's a matter of general occurrence. It coul

      24

      be. I suppose any person with a pick-pocket trend could

      notice a fellow asleep and slip a hand into a pocket, and

      if he's accomplished in his profession, get hold of a wallet

      or a pocket-book or something like that, and hope for some

      luck.'

      'Pretty awkward to lose a passport.'

      'Yes, I shall have to put in for another one now. Make a lot of explanations, I suppose. As I say, the whole thing's

      a damn silly business. And let's face it, Chetwynd, it doesn't

      show me in a very favourable light, does it?'

      'Oh, not your fault, my dear boy, not your fault. It could

      happen to anybody, anybody at all.'

      'Very nice of you to say so,' said Stafford Nye, smiling at

      him agreeably. 'Teach me a sharp lesson, won't it?'

      'You don't think anyone wanted your passport specially?'

      I shouldn't think so,' said Stafford Nye. 'Why should they

      want my passport. Unless it was a matter of someone who

      wished to annoy me and that hardly seems likely. Or somebody

      who took a fancy to my passport photo--and that seems

      even less likely!'

      'Did you see anyone you knew at this--where did you

      say you were--Frankfurt?'

      'No, no. Nobody at all.'

      Talk to anyone?'

      'Not particularly. Said something to a nice fat woman

      who'd got a small child she was trying to amuse. Came

      from Wigan, I think. Going to Australia. Don't remember

      anybody else.'

      'You're sure?'

      There was some woman or other who wanted to know

      what she did if she wanted to study archaeology in Egypt.

      Said I didn't know anything about that. I told her she'd

      better go and ask the British Museum. And I had a word

      or two with a man' who I think was an anti-vivisectionist.

      Very passionate about it.'

      'One always feels,' said Chetwynd, 'that there might be

      something behind things like this.'

      Things like what?'

      'Well, things like what happened to you.*

      'I don't see what can be behind this,' said Sir Stafford.

      'I daresay journalists could make up some story, they're

      so clever at that sort of thing. Still, it's a silly business. For

      goodness' sake, let's forget it.'I suppose now it's been mentioned

      in the press, all my friends will start asking me about

      it. How's old Leyland? What's he up to nowadays? I heard

      25

      one or two things about him out there. Leyland always ta ? a bit too much,'

      The two men talked amiable shop for ten minutes or

      then Sir Stafford got up and went out.

      'I've got a lot of things to do this morning,' he said. 'P

      sents to buy for my relations. The trouble is that if one gi ._

      to Malaya, all one's relations expect you to bring excre

      presents to them. I'll go round to Liberty's, I think. Thay

      have a nice stock of Eastern goods there.'

      He went out cheerfully, nodding to a couple of men s;a

      knew in the corridor outside. After he had gone, Chetwy:ij

      spoke through the telephone to his secretary.

      'Ask Colonel Munro if he can come to me.'

      Colonel Munro came in, bringing another tall middle- aged man with him.

      'Don't know whether you know Horsham,' he said, in

      Security.'

      Think I've met you,' said Chetwynd.

      'Nye's just left you, hasn't he?' said Colonel Munro. 'Ar ything

      in this story about Frankfurt? Anything, I mean, tl.a.t

      we ought to take any notice of?'

      'Doesn't seem so,' said Chetwynd. 'He's a bit put c't

      about it. Thinks it makes him look a silly ass. Which it doe:;,

      of course.'

      The man called Horsham nodded his head.- That's the way he takes it, is it?'

      'Well, he tried, to put a good face upon it,' said Chetwyr, '.

      'All the same, you know,' said Horsham, 'he's not really a

      silly ass, is he?'

      Chetwynd shrugged his shoulders. These things nappe" '

      he said.

      'I know,' said Colonel Munro, 'yes, yes, I know. All t^s same, well, I've always felt in some ways that Nye is a ' 't

      unpredictable. That in some ways, you know, he mighfc i

      be really sound in his views.'

      The man called Horsham spoke. 'Nothing against bin

      he said. 'Nothing at all as far as we know.'

      'Oh, I didn't mean there was. I didn't mean that at a" '

      said Chetwynd. 'It's just--how shall I put it?--he's d

      always very serious about things.'

      Mr Horsham had a moustache. He found it useful

      have a moustache. It concealed moments when he found

      difficult to avoid smiling.

      'He's not a stupid man,' said Munro. 'Got brains, y
      know. You don't
    think that--well, I mean you don't think

      there could be anything at all doubtful about this?'

      'On his part? It doesn't seem so.'

      'You've been into it all, Horsham?'

      'Well, we haven't had very much time yet. But as far

      as it goes it's all right. But his passport was used.'

      'Used? In what way?'

      ^It passed through Heathrow.'

      You mean someone represented himself as SSr Stafford

      Nye?'

      'No, no,' said Horsham, 'not in so many words. We could

      hardly hope for that. It went through with other passports.

      There was no alarm out, you know. He hadn't even woken

      up, I gather, at that time, from the dope or whatever it was

      he was given. He was still at Frankfurt.'

      'But someone could have stolen that passport and come on the plane and so got into England?'

      'Yes,' said Munro, 'that's the presumption. Either someone

      took a wallet which had money in it and a passport, or

      else someone wanted a passport and settled on Sir Stafford

      Nye as a convenient person to take it from. A drink was

      waiting on a table, put a pinch in that, wait till the man went

      off to sleep, take the passport and chance it.'

      'But after all, they look at a passport. Must have seen it

      wasn't the right man,' said Chetwynd.

      'Well, there must have been a certain resemblance, certainly,'

      said Horsham. 'But it isn't as though there was any

      notice of his being missing, any special attention drawn to

      that particular passport in any way. A large crowd comes

      through on a plane that's overdue. A man looks reasonably

      like the photograph in his passport. That's all. Brief glance,

      handed back, pass it on. Anyway what they're looking for

      usually is the foreigners that are coming in, not the British lot.

      Dark hair, dark blue eyes, clean shaven, five foot ten or whatever

      it is. That's about all you want to see. Not on a list of

      undesirable aliens or anything like that.'

      'I know, I know. Still, you'd say if anybody wanted merely

      to pinch a wallet or some money or that, they wouldn't

      use the passport, would they. Too much risk.'

      'Yes,' said Horsham. 'Yes, that is the interesting part of

      it. Of course,' he said, 'we're making investigations, asking a

      few questions here and there.'

      'And what's your own opinion?'

      'I wouldn't like to say yet,' said Horsham. 'It takes a little

      time, you know. One can't hurry things'

      27

      'They're all the same,' said Colonel Munro, when H
      those damned security people. If they think they're on t

      trail of anything, they won't admit it.'

      'Well, that's natural,' said Chetwynd, 'because they mig be wrong.'

      It seemed a typically political view.

      'Horsham's a pretty good man,' said Munro. They thi

      very highly of him at headquarters. He's not likely to

      wrong.'

      Chapter 3

      THE MAN FROM THE CLEANERS

      Sir Stafford Nye returned to his flat. A large woman bounced

      out of the small kitchen with welcoming words.

      'See you got back all right, sir. Those nasty planes. Yru

      never know, do you?'

      'Quite true, Mrs Worrit,' said Sir Stafford Nye. Two how late, the plane was.'

      'Same as cars, aren't they,' said Mrs Worrit. 'I mea

      you never know, do you, what's going to go wrong wi..? them. Only it's more worrying, so to speak, being up in t;e

      air, isn't it? Can't just draw up to the kerb, not the sane

      way, can you? I mean, there you are. I wouldn't go by one

      myself, not if it was ever so.' She went on, 'I've ordered ;n

      a few things. I hope that's all right. Eggs, butter, cofft:, tea--' She ran off the words with the loquacity of a Ne '"

      Eastern guide showing a Pharaoh's palace. There,' said M''s

      Worrit, pausing-to take breath, 'I think that's all as you're

      likely to want. I've ordered the French mustard.'

      'Not Dijon, is it? They always try and give you Dijoi

      ''I don't know who he was, but it's Esther Dragon, ti

      one you like, isn't it?'

      "Quite right,' said Sir Stafford, 'you're a wonder.'

      Mrs Worrit looked pleased. She retired into the kitchi

      again, as Sir Stafford Nye put his hand on his bedroom do

      handle preparatory to going into the bedroom.

      'All right to give your clothes to the gentleman wh i called for them, I suppose, sir? You hadn't said or left we

      or anything like that.'

      'What clothes?' said Sir Stafford Nye, pausing. 28

      'Two suits, it was, the gentleman said as called for them.

      Twiss and Bonywork it was, think that's the same name as

      called before. We'd had a bit of a dispute with the White

      Swan Laundry if I remember rightly.'

      ?Two suits?' said Sir Stanford Nye. 'Which suits?'

      'Well, there was the one you travelled home in, sir. I

      made out that would be one of them. I wasn't quite so

      sure at it the other, but there was the blue pinstripe that

      you d' ; 't leave no orders about when you went away. It

      could : i with cleaning, and there was a repair wanted

      doing ?' the right-hand cuff, but I didn't like to take it on

      myseh hile you were away. I never likes to do that,' said

      Mrs W.--rit with an air of palpable virtue.

      'So ; -?;; chap, whoever he was, took those suits away?'

      'I h. ,e I didn't do wrong, sir.' Mrs Worrit became

      worried.

      'I don't mind the blue pinstripe. I daresay it's all for the

      best. The suit I came home in, well?'

      'It's a bit thin, that suit, sir, for this time of year, you

      know, sir. All right for those parts as you've been in where *

      it's hot. And it could do with a clean. He said as you'd

      rung up about them. That's what the gentleman said as

      called for them.'

      'Did he go into my room and pick them out himself?'

      'Yes, sir. I thought that was best.'

      'Very interesting,' said Sir Stafford. 'Yes, very interesting.'

      He went into his bedroom and looked round it. It was

      neat and tidy. The bed was made, the hand of Mrs Worrit

      was apparent, his electric razor was on charge, the things

      on the dressing-table were neatly arranged.

      He went to the wardrobe and looked inside. He looked

      in the drawers of the tallboy that stood against the wall

      near the window. It was all quite tidy. It was tidier indeed

      than it should have been. He had done a little unpacking

      last night and what little he had done had been of a cursory

      nature. He had thrown underclothing and various odds

      and ends in the appropriate drawer but he had not arranged

      them neatly. He would have done that himself either today

      or tomorrow. He would not have expected Mrs Worrit to do it

      for him. He expected her merely to keep things as she found

      them. Then, when he came back from abroad, there would be

      a time for rearrangements and readjustments because of

      climate and other matters. So someone had looked round here,

      ^onieone had taken out drawers, looked through them quickly,

      ^""rriedly, had replaced things, partly because of his hurry,

      29

      more tidily
    and neatly than he should have done. A qui

      careful job and he had gone away with two suits Sand ;

      plausible explanation. One suit obviously worn by Sir Staso ;

      when travelling and a suit of thin material which might ha ..

      been one taken abroad and brought home. So why?

      'Because,' said Sir Stafford thoughtfully, to himself, b cause somebody was looking for something. But what? Ar

      who? And also perhaps why?' Yes, it was interesting.

      He sat down in a chair and thought about it. Present

      his eyes strayed to the table by the bed on which se

      rather pertly, a small furry panda. It started a train i

      thought. He went to the telephone and rang a number.

      That'you. Aunt Matilda?' he said. 'Stafford here.'

      'Ah, my dear boy, so you're back. I'm so glad. I read

      the paper they'd got cholera in Malaya yesterday, at lea

      I think it was Malaya. I always get so mixed up with tho

      places. I hope you're coming to see me soon? Don't pretend

      you're busy. You can't be busy all the time. One reaFv

      only accepts that sort of thing from tycoons, people

      industry, you know, in the middle of mergers and tsk

      overs. I never know what it all really means. It uscl mean doing your work properly but now it means it'-Rgs

      all tied up with atom bombs and factories in concrete, a'd

      Aunt Matilda, rather wildly. 'And those terrible comp"'*:

      that get all one's figures wrong, to say nothing of m&' i

      them the wrong shape. Really, they have made lif& so dsi

      cult for us nowadays. You wouldn't believe the things they'

      done to my bank account. And to my postal address to

      Well, I suppose I've lived too long.'

      'Don't you believe it! All right if I come down next week

      'Come down tomorrow if you like. I've got the vic
      coming to dinner, but I can easily put him off.'

      'Oh, look here, no need to do that.'

      'Yes there is, every need. He's a most irritating man ai

      he wants a new organ too. This one does quite well as it

      I mean the trouble is with the organist, really, not the orga

      An absolutely abominable musician. The vicar's sorry for hi

      because he lost his mother whom he was very fond of. B

      really, being fond of your mother doesn't make you play t '

      organ any better, does it? I mean, one has to look at thin

      as they are.'

      'Quite right. It will have to be next week--I've got a

      few things to see to. How's Sybil?'

      'Dear child! Very naughty but such fun.'

      'I brought her home a woolly panda,' said Sir Stafford

      Nye.

      'We,'; that was very nice of you, dear.'

      'I Sic; I she'll like it,' said Sir Stafford, catching the panda's

      eye and feeling slightly nervous.

      'Well, at any rate, she's got very good manners,' said

      Aunt Matilda, which seemed a somewhat doubtful answer,

      the meaning of which Sir Stafford did not quite appreciate.

      Aunt Matilda suggested likely trains for next week with

      the warning that they very often did not run, or changed

      their plans, and also commanded that he should bring her

      down a Camembert cheese and half a Stilton.

      'Impossible to get anything down here now. Our own

      grocer--such a nice man, so thoughtful and such good taste

      in what we all liked--turned suddenly into a supermarket,

      six times the size, all rebuilt, baskets and wire trays to

      carry round and try to fill up with things you don't want

      and mothers always losing their babies, and crying and having

      hysterics. Most exhausting. Well, I'll be expecting you, deaf- boy.' She rang off.

      The telephone rang again at once.

      'Hullo? Stafford? Eric Pugh here. Heard you were back

      from Malaya--what about dining tonight?'

      'Like to very much.'

      'Good--Limpits Club--eight-fifteen?'

      Mrs Worrit panted into the room as Sir Stafford replaced

      the receiver.

      'A gentleman downstairs wanting to see you, sir,' she

      said. 'At least I mean, I suppose he's that. Anyway he said

      he was sure you wouldn't mind.'

      'What's his name?'

      'Horsham, sir, like the place on the way to Brighton.'

      'Horsham.' Sir Stafford Nye was a little surprised.

      He went out of his bedroom, down a half flight of stairs

      that led to the big sitting-room on the lower floor. Mrs

      Worrit had made no mistake. Horsham it was, looking as

      he had looked half an hour ago, stalwart, trustworthy, cleft

      chin, rubicund cheeks, bushy grey moustache and a general

      air of imperturbability.

      '^Hope you don't mind,' he said agreeably, rising to his feet

      Hope I don't mind what?' said Sir Stafford Nye.

      'Seeing me again so soon. We met in the passage outside

      Mr Gordon Chetwynd's door--if you remember?'

      'No objections at all,' said Sir Stafford Nye,

     
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