Destination Unknown

  Though the Minister's interest was perfunctory, some of the others were more searching in their enquiries. Some curiosity was displayed as to the living conditions of the personnel and various other details. Dr. Van Heidem showed himself only too willing to show the guests all there was to see. Leblanc and Jessop, the former in attendance on the Minister and the latter accompanying the British Consul, fell a little behind the others as they all returned to the lounge.

  "There is no trace here, nothing," murmured Leblanc in an agitated manner.

  "Not a sign."

  "Mon cher, if we have, as your saying is, barked up the wrong tree, what a catastrophe. After the weeks it has taken to arrange all this! As for me - it will finish my career."

  "We're not licked yet," said Jessop. "Our friends are here, I'm sure of it."

  "There is no trace of them."

  "Of course there is no trace. They could not afford to have a trace of them. For these official visits everything is prepared and arranged."

  "Then how are we to get our evidence? I tell you, without evidence no one will move in the matter. They are sceptical, all of them. The Minister, the American Ambassador, the British Consul - they say all of them, that a man like Aristides is above suspicion."

  "Keep calm, Leblanc, keep calm. I tell you we're not licked yet."

  Leblanc shrugged his shoulders.

  "You have the optimism, my friend," he said. He turned for a moment to speak to one of the immaculately arrayed moon-faced young men who formed part of the entourage, then turned back to Jessop and asked suspiciously: "Why are you smiling?"

  "Heard of a Geiger counter?"

  "Naturally. But I am not a scientist, you understand."

  "No more am I. It is a very sensitive detector of radioactivity."

  "And so?"

  "Our friends are here. The Geiger counter tells me that it imparts a message to say that our friends are here. This building has been purposely built in a confusing manner. All the corridors and the rooms so resemble each other that it is difficult to know where one is or what the plan of the building can be. There is a part of this place that we have not seen. It has not been shown to us."

  "But you deduce that it is there because of some radioactive indication?"

  "Exactly."

  "In fact, it is the pearls of Madame all over again?"

  "Yes. We're still playing Hansel and Gretel, as you might say. But the signs left here cannot be so apparent or so crude as the beads of a pearl necklace, or a hand of phosphoric paint. They cannot be seen, but they can be sensed... by our radio-active detector -"

  "But, mon Dieu, Jessop, is that enough?"

  "It should be." said Jessop. "What one is afraid of..." He broke off.

  Leblanc finished the sentence for him.

  "What you mean is that these people will not want to believe. They have been unwilling from the start. Oh yes, that is so. Even your British Consul is a man of caution. Your government at home is indebted to Aristides in many ways. As for our government," he shrugged his shoulders. "M. le Ministre, I know, will be exceedingly hard to convince."

  "We won't put our faith in governments," said Jessop. "Governments and diplomats have their hands tied. But we've got to have them here, because they're the only ones with authority. But as far as believing is concerned, I'm pinning my faith elsewhere."

  "And on what in particular do you pin your faith, my friend?"

  Jessop's solemn face suddenly relaxed into a grin.

  "There's the press," he said. "Journalists have a nose for news. They don't want it hushed up. They're ready always to believe anything that remotely can be believed. The other person I have faith in," he went on, "is that very deaf old man."

  "Aha, I know the one you mean. The one who looks as though he crumbles to his grave."

  "Yes, he's deaf and infirm and semi-blind. But he's interested in truth. He's a former Lord Chief Justice, and though he may be deaf and blind and shaky on his legs, his mind's as keen as ever - he's got that keen sense that legal luminaries acquire - of knowing when there's something fishy about and someone's trying to prevent it being brought into the open. He's a man who'll listen, and will want to listen, to evidence."

  They had arrived back now in the lounge. Both tea and aperitifs were provided. The Minister congratulated Mr. Aristides in well-rounded periods. The American Ambassador added his quota. It was then that the Minister, looking round him, said in a slightly nervous tone of voice,

  "And now, gentlemen, I think the time has come for us to leave our kind host. We have seen all there is to see..." his tone dwelt on those last words with some significance, "all here is magnificent. An establishment of the first class! We are most grateful for the hospitality of our kind host, and we congratulate him on the achievement here. So we say our farewells now and depart. I am right, am I not?"

  The words were, in a sense, conventional enough. The manner, too, was conventional. The glance that swept round the assembly of guests might have been no more than courtesy. Yet in actuality the words were a plea. In effect, the Minister was saying, "You've seen, gentlemen, there is nothing here, nothing of what you suspected and feared. That is a great relief and we can now leave with a clear conscience."

  But in the silence a voice spoke. It was the quiet, deferential, well-bred English voice of Mr. Jessop. He spoke to the Minister - in a Britannic though idiomatic French.

  "With your permission, Sir," he said, "and if I may do so, I would like to ask a favour of our kind host."

  "Certainly, certainly. Of course, Mr. - ah - Mr. Jessop - yes, yes?"

  Jessop addressed himself solemnly to Dr. Van Heidem. He did not look ostensibly to Mr. Aristides.

  "We've met so many of your people," he said, "Quite bewildering. But there's an old friend of mine here that I'd rather like to have a word with. I wonder if it could be arranged before I go?"

  "A friend of yours?" Dr. Van Heidem said politely, surprised.

  "Well, two friends really," said Jessop. "There's a woman, Mrs. Betterton. Olive Betterton. I believe her husband's working here. Tom Betterton. Used to be at Harwell and before that in America. I'd very much like to have a word with them both before I go."

  Dr. Van Heidem's reactions were perfect. His eyes opened in wide and polite surprise. He frowned in a puzzled way.

  "Betterton - Mrs. Betterton - no, I'm afraid we have no one of that name here."

  "There's an American, too," said Jessop. "Andrew Peters. Research chemistry, I believe, is his line. I'm right, sir, aren't I?" He turned deferentially to the American Ambassador.

  The Ambassador was a shrewd, middle-aged man with keen blue eyes. He was a man of character as well as diplomatic ability. His eyes met Jessop's. He took a full minute to decide, and then he spoke.

  "Why, yes," he said. "That's so. Andrew Peters. I'd like to see him."

  Van Heidem's polite bewilderment grew. Jessop unobtrusively shot a quick glance at Aristides. The little yellow face betrayed no knowledge of anything amiss, no surprise, no disquietude. He looked merely uninterested.

  "Andrew Peters? No, I'm afraid, Your Excellency, you've got your facts wrong. We've no one of that name here. I'm afraid I don't even know the name."

  "You know the name of Thomas Betterton, don't you?" said Jessop.

  Just for a second Van Heidem hesitated. His head turned very slightly towards the old man in the chair, but he caught himself back in time.

  "Thomas Betterton," he said. "Why, yes, I think -"

  One of the gentlemen of the press spoke up quickly on that cue.

  "Thomas Betterton," he said. "Why, I should say he was pretty well big news. Big news six months ago when he disappeared. Why, he's made headlines in the papers all over Europe. The police have been looking for him here, there and everywhere. Do you mean to say he's been here in this place all the time?"

  "No." Van Heidem spoke sharply. "Someone, I fear, has been misinforming you. A hoax, perhaps. You have seen today all our workers at the
Unit. You have seen everything."

  "Not quite everything I think," said Jessop, quietly. "There's a young man called Ericsson, too," he added, "and Dr. Louis Barron, and possibly Mrs. Calvin Baker."

  "Ah." Dr. Van Heidem seemed to receive enlightenment. "But those people were killed in Morocco - in a plane crash. I remember it perfectly now. At least I remember Ericsson was in the crash and Dr. Louis Barron. Ah, France sustained a great loss that day. A man such as Louis Barron is hard to replace." He shook his head. "I do not know anything about a Mrs. Calvin Baker, but I do seem to remember that there was an English or American woman on that plane. It might well perhaps have been this Mrs. Betterton, of whom you speak. Yes, it was all very sad." He looked across enquiringly at Jessop. "I do not know, Monsieur, why you should suppose that these people were coming here. It may possibly be that Dr. Barron mentioned at one time that he hoped to visit our settlement here while he was in North Africa. That may possibly have given rise to a misconception."

  "So you tell me," said Jessop, "that I am mistaken? That these people are none of them here."

  "But how can they be, my dear sir, since they were all killed in this plane accident The bodies were recovered, I believe."

  "The bodies recovered were too badly charred for identification." Jessop spoke the last words with deliberation and significance.

  There was a little stir behind him. A thin, precise, very attenuated voice said,

  "Do I understand you to say that there was no precise identification?" Lord Alverstoke was leaning forward, his hand to his ear. Under bushy, overhanging eyebrows his small keen eyes looked into Jessop's.

  "There could be no formal identification, my lord," said Jessop, "and I have reason to believe these people survived that accident."

  "Believe?" said Lord Alverstoke, with displeasure in his thin, high voice.

  "I should have said I had evidence of survival."

  "Evidence? Of what nature, Mr. - er - er - Jessop."

  "Mrs. Betterton was wearing a choker of false pearls on the day she left Fez for Marrakesh," said Jessop. "One of these pearls was found at a distance of half a mile from the burnt out plane."

  "How can you state positively that the pearl found actually came from Mrs. Betterton's necklace?"

  "Because all the pearls of that necklace had had a mark put upon them invisible to the naked eye, but recognisable under a strong lens."

  "Who put that mark on them?"

  "I did, Lord Alverstoke, in the presence of my colleague, here, Monsieur Leblanc."

  "You put those marks - you had a reason in marking those pearls in that special fashion?"

  "Yes, my lord. I had reason to believe that Mrs. Betterton would lead me to her husband, Thomas Betterton, against whom a warrant is out." Jessop continued. "Two more of these pearls came to light. Each on stages of a route between where the plane was burnt out and the settlement where we now are. Enquiries in the places where these pearls were found resulted in a description of six people, roughly approximating to those people who were supposed to have been burnt in the plane. One of these passengers had also been supplied with a glove impregnated with luminous, phosphorous paint. That mark was found on a car which had transported these passengers part of the way here."

  Lord Alverstoke remarked in his dry, judicial voice,

  "Very remarkable."

  In the big chair Mr. Aristides stirred. His eyelids blinked once or twice rapidly. Then he asked a question.

  "Where were the last traces of this party of people found?"

  "At a disused airfield, Sir." He gave precise location.

  "That is many hundreds of miles from here," said Mr. Aristides. "Granted that your very interesting speculations are correct, that for some reason the accident was faked, these passengers, I gather, then took off from this disused airport for some unknown destination. Since that airport is many hundreds of miles from here, I really cannot see on what you base your belief that these people are here. Why should they be?"

  "There are certain very good reasons, sir. A signal was picked up by one of our searching airplanes. The signal was brought to Monsieur Leblanc here. Commencing with a special code recognition signal, it gave the information that the people in question were at a Leper Settlement."

  "I find this remarkable," said Mr. Aristides. "Very remarkable. But it seems to me that there is no doubt that an attempt has been made to mislead you. These people are not here." He spoke with a quiet, definite decision. "You are at perfect liberty to search the settlement if you like."

  "I doubt if we should find anything, sir," said Jessop, "not, that is, by a superficial search, although," he added deliberately, "I am aware of the area at which the search should begin."

  "Indeed! And where is that?"

  "In the fourth corridor from the second laboratory turning to the left at the end of the passage there."

  There was an abrupt movement from Dr. Van Heidem. Two glasses crashed from the tables to the floor.

  Jessop looked at him, smiling.

  "You see, Doctor," he said, "we are well informed."

  Van Heidem said sharply, "It's preposterous. Absolutely preposterous! You are suggesting that we are detaining people here against their will. I deny that categorically."

  The Minister said uncomfortably,

  "We seem to have arrived at an impasse."

  Mr. Aristides said gently,

  "It has been an interesting theory. But it is only a theory." He glanced at his watch. "You will excuse me, gentlemen, if I suggest that you should leave now. You have a long drive back to the airport, and there will be alarm felt if your plane is overdue."

  Both Leblanc and Jessop realised that it had come now to the showdown. Aristides was exerting all the force of his considerable personality. He was daring these men to oppose his will. If they persisted, it meant that they were willing to come out into the open against him. The Minister, as per his instructions, was anxious to capitulate. The Chief of Police was anxious only to be agreeable to the Minister. The American Ambassador was not satisfied, but he, too, would hesitate for diplomatic reasons to insist. The British Consul would have to fall in with the other two.

  The journalists - Aristides considered the journalists - the journalists could be attended to! Their price might come high but he was of the opinion that they could be bought. And if they could not be bought - well, there were other ways.

  As for Jessop and Leblanc, they knew. That was clear, but they could not act without authority. His eyes went on and met the eyes of a man as old as himself, cold, legal eyes. This man, he knew, could not be bought. But after all... His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of that cold, clear, far away little voice.

  "I am of the opinion," said the voice, "that we should not unduly hurry our departure. For there is a case here that it seems to me would bear further enquiry. Grave allegations have been made and should not, I consider, be allowed to drop. In fairness every opportunity should be given to rebut them."

  "The onus of proof," said Mr. Aristides, "is on you." He made a graceful gesture towards the company. "A preposterous accusation has been made, unsupported by any evidence."

  "Not unsupported."

  Dr. Van Heidem swung round in surprise. One of the Moroccan servants had stepped forward. He was a fine figure of a man in white embroidered robes with a white turban surrounding his head, his face gleamed black and oily.

  What caused the entire company to gaze at him in speechless astonishment was the fact that from his full rather Negroid lips a voice of purely trans-Atlantic origin was proceeding.

  "Not unsupported," that voice said, "you can take my evidence here and now. These gentlemen have denied that Andrew Peters, Torquil Ericsson, Mr. and Mrs. Betterton and Dr. Louis Barron are here. That's false. They're all here - and I speak for them." He took a step forward towards the American Ambassador. "You may find me a bit difficult to recognise at the moment. Sir," he said, "but I am Andrew Peters."

  A very faint, sib
ilant hiss issued from Aristides' lips; then he settled back in his chair, his face impassive once more.

  "There's a whole crowd of people hidden away here," said Peters. "There's Schwartz of Munich; there's Helga Needheim; there are Jeffreys and Davidson, the English scientists; there's Paul Wade from the U.S.A.; there are the Italians, Ricochetti and Bianco; there's Murchison. They're all right here in this building. There's a system of closing bulkheads that's quite impossible to detect by the naked eye. There's a whole network of secret laboratories cut right down into the rock."