Postern of Fate (Tommy & Tuppence 5)

'Oh? Ask away. I've had a very uneventful life. Margery - you remember Margery?'

'Yes, of course I remember Margery. I nearly got to your wedding.'

'I know. But you couldn't make it or something, or took the wrong train, as far as I remember. A train that was going to Scotland instead of Southall. Anyway, just as well you didn't. Nothing much came of it.'

'Didn't you get married?'

'Oh yes, I got married. But somehow or other it didn't take very well. No. A year and a half and it was done with. She's married again. I haven't, but I'm doing very nicely. I live at Little Pollon. Quite a decent golf-course there. My sister lives with me. She's a widow, with a nice bit of money and we get on quite well together. She's a bit deaf so she doesn't hear what I say, but it only means shouting a bit.'

'You said you'd heard of Hollowquay. Was it really something to do with spying of some kind?'

'Well, to tell you the truth, old boy, it's so long ago that I can't remember much about it. It made a big stir at the time. You know, splendid young naval officer absolutely above suspicion in every way, ninety per cent British, rated about a hundred and five in reliability, but nothing of the kind really. In the pay of - well, I can't remember now who he was in the pay of. Germany, I suppose. Before the 1914 war. Yes, I think that was it.'

'And there was a woman too, I believe, associated with it all,' said Tommy.

'I seem to remember hearing something about a Mary Jordan, I think it was. Mind you, I am not clear about all this. Got into the papers and I think it was a wife of his - I mean of the above-suspicion naval officer. It was his wife who got in touch with the Russians and - no, no, that's something that happened since then. One mixes things up so - they all sound alike. Wife thought he wasn't getting enough money, which meant, I suppose, that she wasn't getting enough money. And so - well, why d'you want to dig up all this old history? What's it got to do with you after all this time? I know you had something to do once with someone who was on the Lusitania or went down with the Lusitania or something like that, didn't you? If we go back as far as that, I mean. That's what you were mixed up in once, or your wife was mixed up in.'

'We were both mixed up in it,' said Tommy, 'and it's such a very long time ago that I really can't remember anything about it now.'

'There was some woman associated with that, wasn't there? Name like Jane Fish, or something like that, or was it Jane Whale?'

'Jane Finn,' said Tommy.

'Where is she now?'

'She's married to an American.'

'Oh, I see. Well, all very nice. One always seems to get talking about one's old pals and what's happened to them all. When you talk about old friends, either they are dead, which surprises you enormously because you didn't think they would be, or else they're not dead and that surprises you even more. It's a very difficult world.'

Tommy said yes it was a very difficult world and here was the waiter coming. What would they have to eat... The conversation thereafter was gastronomic.

In the afternoon Tommy had another interview arranged. This time with a sad, grizzled man sitting in an office and obviously grudging the time he was giving to Tommy.

'Well, I really couldn't say. Of course I know roughly what you're talking about - lot of talk about it at the time - caused a big political blow-up - but I really have no information about that sort of thing, you know. No. You see, these things, they don't last, do they? They soon pass out of one's mind once the Press gets hold of some other juicy scandal.'

He opened up slightly on a few of his own interesting moments in life when something he'd never suspected came suddenly to light or his suspicions had suddenly been aroused by some very peculiar event. He said:

'Well, I've just got one thing might help. Here's an address for you and I've made an appointment too. Nice chap. Knows everything. He's the tops, you know, absolutely the tops. One of my daughters was a godchild of his. That's why he's awfully nice to me and will always do me a good turn if possible. So I asked him if he would see you. I said there were some things you wanted the top news about, I said what a good chap you were and various things and he said yes, he'd heard of you already. Knew something about you, and he said. Of course come along. Three forty-five, I think. Here's the address. It's an office in the City, I think. Ever met him?'

'I don't think so,' said Tommy, looking at the card and the address. 'No.'

'Well you wouldn't think he knew anything, to look at him. I mean. Big, you know, and yellow.'

'Oh,' said Tommy, 'big and yellow.'

It didn't really convey much information to his mind.

'He's the tops,' said Tommy's grizzled friend, 'absolute tops. You go along there. He'll be able to tell you something anyway. Good luck, old chap.'

Tommy, having successfully got himself to the City office in question, was received by a man of 35 to 40 years of age who looked at him with the eye of one determined to do the worst without delay. Tommy felt that he was suspected of many things, possibly carrying a bomb in some deceptive container, or prepared to hi-jack or kidnap anyone or to hold up with a revolver the entire staff. It made Tommy extremely nervous.

'You have an appointment with Mr Robinson? At what time, did you say? Ah, three forty-five.' He consulted a ledger. 'Mr Thomas Beresford, is that right?'

'Yes,' said Tommy.

'Ah. Just sign your name here, please.'

Tommy signed his name where he was told.

'Johnson.'

A nervous-looking young man of about twenty-three seemed like an apparition rising out of a glass partitioned desk. 'Yes, sir?'

'Take Mr Beresford up to the fourth floor to Mr Robinson's office.'

'Yes, sir.'

He led Tommy to a lift, the kind of lift that always seemed to have its own idea of how it should deal with those who came into it. The doors rolled open. Tommy passed in, the doors very nearly pinched him in doing so and just managed to slam themselves shut about an inch from his spine.

'Cold afternoon,' said Johnson, showing a friendly attitude to someone who was clearly being allowed to approach the high one in the highest.

'Yes,' said Tommy, 'it always seems to be cold in the afternoons.'

'Some say it's pollution, some say it's all the natural gas they're taking out of the North Sea,' said Johnson.

'Oh, I haven't heard that,' said Tommy.

'Doesn't seem likely to me,' said Johnson.

They passed the second floor and the third floor and finally arrived at the fourth floor. Johnson led Tommy, again escaping the closing doors by a mere inch, along a passage to a door. He knocked, was told to enter, held the door open, insinuated Tommy across the threshold, and said:

'Mr Beresford, sir. By appointment.'

He went out and shut the door behind him. Tommy advanced. The room seemed to be mainly filled by an enormous desk. Behind the desk sat a rather enormous man, a man of great weight and many inches. He had, as Tommy had been prepared for by his friend, a very large and yellow face. What nationality he was Tommy had no idea. He might have been anything. Tommy had a feeling he was probably foreign. A German, perhaps? Or an Austrian? Possibly a Japanese. Or else he might be very decidedly English.

'Ah. Mr Beresford.'

Mr Robinson got up, shook hands.

'I'm sorry if I come taking a lot of your time,' said Tommy.

He had a feeling he had once seen Mr Robinson before or had had Mr Robinson pointed out to him. Anyway on the occasion, whatever it had been, he had been rather shy about it because obviously Mr Robinson was someone very important, and, he now gathered (or rather felt at once) he was still very important.