The Best Detectives Murder Mysteries for Christmas Holidays. Эдгар Аллан По

the curtain in the recess. The policemen had orders to say, if they were asked, that no one had gone into the house. That’s all.”

      And Tommy came to an abrupt halt.

      There was silence for a moment.

      “By the way,” said Julius suddenly, “you’re all wrong about that photograph of Jane. It WAS taken from me, but I found it again.”

      “Where?” cried Tuppence.

      “In that little safe on the wall in Mrs. Vandemeyer’s bedroom.”

      “I knew you found something,” said Tuppence reproachfully. “To tell you the truth, that’s what started me off suspecting you. Why didn’t you say?”

      “I guess I was a mite suspicious too. It had been got away from me once, and I determined I wouldn’t let on I’d got it until a photographer had made a dozen copies of it!”

      “We all kept back something or other,” said Tuppence thoughtfully. “I suppose secret service work makes you like that!”

      In the pause that ensued, Mr. Carter took from his pocket a small shabby brown book.

      “Beresford has just said that I would not have believed Sir James Peel Edgerton to be guilty unless, so to speak, he was caught in the act. That is so. Indeed, not until I read the entries in this little book could I bring myself fully to credit the amazing truth. This book will pass into the possession of Scotland Yard, but it will never be publicly exhibited. Sir James’s long association with the law would make it undesirable. But to you, who know the truth, I propose to read certain passages which will throw some light on the extraordinary mentality of this great man.”

      He opened the book, and turned the thin pages.

      “… It is madness to keep this book. I know that. It is documentary evidence against me. But I have never shrunk from taking risks. And I feel an urgent need for self-expression… . The book will only be taken from my dead body… .

      “… From an early age I realized that I had exceptional abilities. Only a fool underestimates his capabilities. My brain power was greatly above the average. I know that I was born to succeed. My appearance was the only thing against me. I was quiet and insignificant—utterly nondescript… .

      “… When I was a boy I heard a famous murder trial. I was deeply impressed by the power and eloquence of the counsel for the defence. For the first time I entertained the idea of taking my talents to that particular market… . Then I studied the criminal in the dock… . The man was a fool—he had been incredibly, unbelievably stupid. Even the eloquence of his counsel was hardly likely to save him. I felt an immeasurable contempt for him… . Then it occurred to me that the criminal standard was a low one. It was the wastrels, the failures, the general riff-raff of civilization who drifted into crime… . Strange that men of brains had never realized its extraordinary opportunities… . I played with the idea… . What a magnificent field—what unlimited possibilities! It made my brain reel… .

      “… I read standard works on crime and criminals. They all confirmed my opinion. Degeneracy, disease—never the deliberate embracing of a career by a far-seeing man. Then I considered. Supposing my utmost ambitions were realized—that I was called to the bar, and rose to the height of my profession? That I entered politics—say, even, that I became Prime Minister of England? What then? Was that power? Hampered at every turn by my colleagues, fettered by the democratic system of which I should be the mere figurehead! No—the power I dreamed of was absolute! An autocrat! A dictator! And such power could only be obtained by working outside the law. To play on the weaknesses of human nature, then on the weaknesses of nations—to get together and control a vast organization, and finally to overthrow the existing order, and rule! The thought intoxicated me… .

      “… I saw that I must lead two lives. A man like myself is bound to attract notice. I must have a successful career which would mask my true activities… . Also I must cultivate a personality. I modelled myself upon famous K.C.‘s. I reproduced their mannerisms, their magnetism. If I had chosen to be an actor, I should have been the greatest actor living! No disguises—no grease paint—no false beards! Personality! I put it on like a glove! When I shed it, I was myself, quiet, unobtrusive, a man like every other man. I called myself Mr. Brown. There are hundreds of men called Brown—there are hundreds of men looking just like me… .

      “… I succeeded in my false career. I was bound to succeed. I shall succeed in the other. A man like me cannot fail… .

      “… I have been reading a life of Napoleon. He and I have much in common… .

      “… I make a practice of defending criminals. A man should look after his own people… .

      “… Once or twice I have felt afraid. The first time was in Italy. There was a dinner given. Professor D——, the great alienist, was present. The talk fell on insanity. He said, ‘A great many men are mad, and no one knows it. They do not know it themselves.’ I do not understand why he looked at me when he said that. His glance was strange… . I did not like it… .

      “… The war has disturbed me… . I thought it would further my plans. The Germans are so efficient. Their spy system, too, was excellent. The streets are full of these boys in khaki. All empty-headed young fools… . Yet I do not know… . They won the war… . It disturbs me… .

      “… My plans are going well… . A girl butted in—I do not think she really knew anything… . But we must give up the Esthonia… . No risks now… .

      “… . All goes well. The loss of memory is vexing. It cannot be a fake. No girl could deceive ME! …

      “… The 29th… . That is very soon… .” Mr. Carter paused.

      “I will not read the details of the coup that was planned. But there are just two small entries that refer to the three of you. In the light of what happened they are interesting.

      “… By inducing the girl to come to me of her own accord, I have succeeded in disarming her. But she has intuitive flashes that might be dangerous… . She must be got out of the way… . I can do nothing with the American. He suspects and dislikes me. But he cannot know. I fancy my armour is impregnable… . Sometimes I fear I have underestimated the other boy. He is not clever, but it is hard to blind his eyes to facts… .”

      Mr. Carter shut the book.

      “A great man,” he said. “Genius, or insanity, who can say?”

      There was silence.

      Then Mr. Carter rose to his feet.

      “I will give you a toast. The Joint Venture which has so amply justified itself by success!”

      It was drunk with acclamation.

      “There’s something more we want to hear,” continued Mr. Carter. He looked at the American Ambassador. “I speak for you also, I know. We’ll ask Miss Jane Finn to tell us the story that only Miss Tuppence has heard so far—but before we do so we’ll drink her health. The health of one of the bravest of America’s daughters, to whom is due the thanks and gratitude of two great countries!”

      Chapter 28

       And After

       Table of Contents

      “THAT was a mighty good toast, Jane,” said Mr. Hersheimmer, as he and his cousin were being driven back in the Rolls-Royce to the Ritz.

      “The one to the joint venture?”

      “No—the one to you. There isn’t another girl in the world who could have carried it through as you did. You were just wonderful! “

      Jane shook her head.

      “I don’t feel wonderful. At heart I’m just tired and lonesome—and longing for my own country.”

      “That