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