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Authors: Eric Ambler

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I asked one more question.

“What did Monsieur Barstow say when he recovered consciousness?”

The lips of M. Abadis tightened. Clearly, he had his instructions.

I did not pursue the matter. I had discovered what I wished to know. Groom, obviously under the impression that Carruthers had kept the Kassen secret for himself, had made a last desperate effort to gain possession of it. I left the discreet
chef
richer by a further hundred francs.

A fortnight later I had the occasion to go to London for a day or two and seized the opportunity to make inquiries about Professor Barstow. I learned at his house in London that he was in a sanatarium in Brighton. I went to Brighton by the next train.

The matron of the sanatarium was polite but firm. Professor Barstow was not allowed to receive visitors. I asked to see the doctor in charge. He was out but would return in two hours’ time. I waited for three.

The doctor looked at me suspiciously when he heard what I wanted. It was obvious that he did not like Americans.

“Why are you so particularly anxious to see Professor Barstow?” he asked. “Are you a relative?”

I had prepared my story.

“No, but I read the story of the Professor’s curious disappearance and seeing a photograph of him in a newspaper a few days ago I thought I recognised him as a man I knew in an hotel in Zürich last May. I wished to see if I was correct.”

He looked more intelligent.

“That is a little different. We are particularly anxious to establish Professor Barstow’s whereabouts during his recent unfortunate—er—illness. Particularly anxious, I may say, in view of certain …” He dissolved into an elaborate silence and pressed a button on his desk; he looked out of the window until the Matron appeared.

“Is Professor Barstow awake?” he said.

“No, doctor, asleep.”

He turned to me. “If we are quiet, Mr. Casey, we shall not disturb him.”

“Let me get this clear, doctor,” I said. “Do you mean that Professor Barstow has been suffering from loss of memory?”

“That is—er—within limits—correct.”

“And he doesn’t remember anything of what happened to him in May?”

“Er—no. But perhaps …” He stood up.

Followed by the matron he led the way to a room at the rear of the building. There was linoleum on the floors of the passages. Everything was very clean. He opened the door softly.

It was late afternoon and the autumn sunset was glowing across the room through the slats of an open venetian blind. We tiptoed inside.

The man on the bed lay on his back, his fingers lightly clasping the sheets across his chest. I looked at his head turned slightly to one side, at the grey-streaked hair disordered by the pressure of the pillow. Then I looked at the long fingers I had so often seen forcing tobacco into a battered pipe with nervous dexterity and my mind went back to a moment in which those same fingers, grasping a heavy German automatic, were being raised towards the head that now lay peacefully on a clean, white pillow.

The man in the bed coughed once in his sleep and turned on to his side. The fingers disappeared beneath the sheets. The doctor motioned me to the door.

“Well?” he said when we were outside.

I shook my head. “No, it’s not the same man.”

He sighed. “A curious case,” he commented as we went downstairs again.

I agreed.

The sea front was almost deserted as I made my way back
towards the bus-stop. Out at sea a light was beginning to wink in the misty region beyond the last red reflections of the sun. The surf hissed lazily through the pebbles. A breeze had begun to blow off the sea and I turned up the collar of my overcoat as I walked on. It was cold for the time of year.

EPILOGUE

S
uch cases of dual personality do occur. C. G. Jung in his
Collected Papers on Analytical Psychology
describes the case of a young German girl who was subject to periods of amnesia, or loss of memory, during which she exhibited a completely different personality.

Ordinarily, the girl was only partly literate and of a low standard of intelligence. The second personality, however, spoke fluent and cultured English and broken German. The girl’s normal personality had never been taught English and was, indeed, ignorant of even the rudiments of the language. The explanation was curious.

For some time previous to the first manifestations of amnesia the girl had stayed with some relatives in whose house an English student lodged. She had heard a considerable amount of English spoken. At the time it had meant nothing to her conscious
mind. Her subconscious mind, however, had recorded it faithfully. When the second personality emerged, it had simply drawn on this record for its own purposes.

———

Statement by George Alfred Rispoli
Waiter at the
Imperial Hotel, Plymouth

My name is George Rispoli and I am a waiter at the Imperial Hotel, Plymouth. On the 19th of April last I served a gentleman named Carruthers in room 356 with breakfast. I remember the gentleman clearly because the chambermaid told me that the pillow in his room had a patch of blood on it when she went to clear up, also because I had to go out to the travel agency in the town and get him a ticket to Paris. Also, he gave me a good tip. About ten o’clock he phoned for breakfast. When I took it in he was standing looking out of the window with his back to me. He had on a dressing-gown over his pyjamas. He told me to leave the tray and get him an ABC, which I did. When I came back with the ABC he was still looking out of the window.

I reminded him that his coffee was getting cold and without turning round he told me to pour it out. “No milk and three lumps of sugar,” he said.

I did so and left him. He had a sharp sort of voice, but not disagreeable. I did not see his face at all.

About an hour later he rang down for a ticket to Paris, first class via Cunard liner from Southampton to Havre. I was sent out to get it and did so. Soon after that he left the hotel giving me ten shillings for myself. That is all I know.

(SGD.) G. RISPOLI.

Note
. According to Professor Barstow’s housekeeper, he always took milk in his coffee. On
this page
of
Conway Carruthers, Dept. Y
, however, there occurs the following: “Carruthers sipped at his coffee appreciatively. He liked it thick and black and sweet; it stimulated that keen, incisive brain of his. Whenever a problem confronted him, he sought refuge in his coffee and his pipe.”

———

From the New York
Tribune,
May 24th, 193–

COUNTESS’S DEATH DIVE

Reports from Zovgorod (Ixania) state that the Countess Magda Schverzinski was killed two days ago when her car left a mountain road in the Kuder province and plunged down an 80-ft. precipice.

General Toumachin, head of the new Peasant Government in Ixania, has sent a message of condolence to Prince Ladislaus, brother of the Countess, who is at the moment in Belgrade. At the request of the Prince, the body will be taken to Belgrade for the funeral. (Obituary,
this page
.)

———

From the
Giornale d’Italia,
July 10th 193–

DISTINGUISHED ARRIVAL

Prince Ladislaus of Ixania has purchased the Palazzo dei Fiori at Viareggio. He expects to take up residence there during September.

———

From a London trade journal for the week ending September 10th, 193–

IXANIAN TRADE DEVELOPMENTS

The decision of the Ixanian Peasant Government to disband their armed forces which caused such a stir in political circles last month has now been followed by the announcement that Ixania has concluded a number of commercial treaties with neighbouring states. Among the subjects of these treaties are bristles, timber and beet sugar.

Production of the latter commodity is being heavily subsidised by the Government, as also is a new confectionery-manufacturing plant, the machinery for which was recently supplied by Dunwiddy and Help-man Ltd., a subsidiary of Cator & Bliss Ltd.

Further developments in this big reorganisation process may be expected. It is reported in some quarters that electrification of the Ixanian railways is contemplated as part of a comprehensive transport reconstruction scheme to include the building of roads and a new airport near Zovgorod to be used as a re-fuelling station for trans-European air mails.

Under our “Tenders Invited” column this week appear notices from the Ixanian Government regarding the supply of fertilisers and Diesel-engined tractors.

———

Extract from an article entitled “The Danger Spots of Europe” which appeared in a London daily newspaper on October 20, 193—. Investigation revealed that the author of the article is prominently represented in the list of shareholders of Messrs. Cator & Bliss Ltd
.

 … but one thing is clear; the Cause of Peace cannot but be endangered by unilateral acts of disarmament of this kind. In announcing the policy of absolute disarmament to which he has committed his unfortunate countrymen, the head of the Ixanian Cabinet said:

“If an aggressor or group of aggressors were to advance into Ixanian territory, our present army and air force would be unable to stop them. It has been estimated that armed forces numerous enough and adequately equipped to defend Ixania in such an emergency would cost a minimum of fifty million pounds in modern equipment and another ten million pounds a year to maintain; that is without taking into account the indirect losses which the withdrawal of tens of thousands of able-bodied men from productive activity would entail. We cannot afford that fantastic minimum and we will not squander our substance on defences that fall absurdly short of the minimum!”

“This is idealistic folly run mad. An unarmed Ixania is a potential cause of war. Every possible pressure should be brought to bear on this Government of untutored peasants to restrain them in their policy of ‘pacifist’ aggression.

The fools’ Paradise that the League of Nations …

———

From the New York
Tribune,
February 4th, 193–

TRIBUNE
CORRESPONDENT HONOURED

The Order of the Red Star of Ixania has been conferred on William L. Casey, foreign correspondent of the
Tribune
, by the President of Ixania. The award follows the publication of Mr. Casey’s book,
Ixania Today and
Tomorrow
, to which M. Toumachin, Ixanian Government leader, contributed an introduction.

———

From a South American paper, August, 193–

SOCIAL NOTES

At the Hotel Paradiso last night, His Excellency the Minister of War, Señor Patiago, was to be seen entertaining a party of friends. Among his guests were His Excellency the Minister of Finance, Señor Guadalez, Señora Guadalez and Señor Harcourt-Groom, the famous English sportsman.

———

From the “Proceedings of the Society of Physicists” for the July quarter 193–

Professor Henry Barstow received a warm welcome on the occasion of his reading a paper entitled “Some Comments on Kalmen’s Observations concerning Planck’s Quantum Theory.” This was Professor Barstow’s first appearance at the Society’s gathering this year following his recent long and serious illness, on his complete recovery from which we offer him our sincere congratulations. The speaker’s remarks were followed closely by the large audience that attended. At the outset, Professor Barstow caused no little amusement by declaring that his convalescence had provided him with an unprecedented opportunity for calm consideration of what he described as “Professor Kalmen’s incautious adventures into space-time.” The Lorentz transformations could not, he contended, be taken as a starting-point for …

ALSO BY
E
RIC
A
MBLER

BACKGROUND TO DANGER

Kenton’s career as a journalist depended on his exceptional facility with languages, his knowledge of European politics, and his quick judgment. Where his judgment sometimes failed him was in his personal life. When he finds himself on a train bound for Austria after a bad night of gambling, he eagerly takes an opportunity to earn money helping a refugee smuggle securities across the border. He soon discovers that the documents he holds have more than monetary value, and that European politics has more twists and turns than the most convoluted newspaper account.

Fiction/Suspense

CAUSE FOR ALARM

Nicky Marlow needs a job. He’s engaged to be married and the employment market is pretty slim in Britain in 1937. So when his fiancée points out the Italian Spartacus Machine Tool notice, he jumps at the chance. After all, he speaks Italian and can endure Milan long enough to save some money. Soon after he arrives, though, he learns the sinister truth of his predecessor’s death and finds himself courted by two agents with dangerously different agendas. In the process, Marlow realizes it’s not so simple just to do the job he’s paid to do in fascist Italy on the brink of war.

Fiction/Suspense

A COFFIN FOR DIMITRIOS

A chance encounter with a Turkish colonel who has a penchant for British crime novels leads mystery writer Charles Latimer into a world of menacing political and criminal maneuvers throughout the Balkans in the years between the world wars. Hoping that the career of the notorious Dimitrios, whose body has been identified in an Istanbul morgue, will inspire a story line for his next book, Latimer soon finds himself caught up in a shadowy web of murder, espionage, drugs, and treachery.

Fiction/Suspense

JOURNEY INTO FEAR

Returning to his hotel room after a late-night flirtation with a cabaret dancer at an Istanbul nightspot, Graham is surprised by an intruder with a gun. What follows is a nightmare of intrigue for the English armaments engineer as he makes his way home aboard an Italian freighter. Among the passengers are a couple of Nazi assassins intent on preventing his returning to England with plans for a Turkish defense system, the seductive cabaret dancer and her manager husband, and a number of surprising allies.

Fiction/Suspense

BOOK: The Dark Frontier
5.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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