Beat the Devil Page #10

by the way, fat gut's nature

isn't noble like ours.

He might try to bargain.

I do not bargain

with a puffball like that.

It's beneath my dignity.

It'll be dawn soon.

The correct hour

for a firing squad.

But if we have him shot,

what about the money?

Well, I was just thinking

that if he heard a volley

at the psychological moment,

he might not be

so inclined to haggle.

I believe you must

have Arab blood.

Westerners are not

usually so subtle.

Where are you taking me?

I won't go.

I demand to see a doctor.

Would you say that in Paris,

among smart people...

the Rolls-Royce or the Cadillac

is considered more chic?

Well, that's no problem.

No problem at all.

A man in your position

should have both.

Ah...

Mr. Dannreuther, I believe,

would like a word with you.

Billy.

Sit down, Peterson.

Uh...

I've been talking

to Ahmed here and, uh...

It's blackmail.

I can't pay.

What was that?

Firing squad.

It's execution day.

Will he take a check?

Billy.

Billy, look.

The Nyanga.

Stay away!

Stay away from my ship!

If you try to come aboard,

I will shoot you!

I will shoot you!

Get my gun! Get my gun!

Give it to him.

Maybe he'll shoot himself.

My gun, my gun!

Excuse me, are you

Mr. William Dannreuther?

That's right.

I'd like to ask you

a few questions.

I'm sorry, not now.

Forgive me,

but it's rather important.

Yes, it always is.

I was a newspaper man

myself once.

Very well, you may quote me

as saying

that everybody was heroic

except Mrs. Dannreuther,

who ate all our boots.

Very amusing, but, uh,

I'm not a reporter.

Oh?

Jack, go to the phone.

Make reservations.

The first plane to Nairobi.

Six seats.

Yes, and if they don't have any,

talk to the right man

and tell him if he kicks

other people off the plane,

we'll make it worth

his while.

I always said

we ought to take a plane.

You remember I said that,

Mr. O'Horror.

-I said we ought to take a plane.

- Mustn't dawdle, Billy-Boy.

Great deal to do

and not much time.

Those the other members

of your party?

- Yes.

- I'd like to talk to them too.

Well, what's it all about?

I believe you were acquainted

with a Mr. Vanmeer,

now deceased.

Peterson.

You and the boys

better come back down.

There's a gentleman here

wants to speak to you.

A Mr. Jack Clayton

of Scotland Yard.

You take your wine here

or upstairs, Mr. Dann?

Oh, we'll have it here.

Care to join us in a drink,

Clayton?

No, thanks. It's a bit early

in the day for me.

I read somewhere

that a Scotland Yard man

never accepts a drink from

anyone he intends to arrest.

Is that true, Mr. Clayton?

- Quite so.

- Mrs. Dannreuther?

No. I'm Mrs. Chelm.

This is Mrs. Dannreuther.

Well, how do you do?

Well, I wouldn't dream

of alarming you lovely ladies,

so perhaps I'll have

a glass of bubbly after all.

Peterson.

How do you do, sir?

How do you do?

Ravello. Heh.

And, uh, Mr. O'Horror.

O'Hara. Julius O'Hara.

Delighted.

I'm the one to be delighted.

It had begun to look as though

I'd never catch up

with you people

and that would have been

a bit embarrassing.

You see, this is the first time

I've ever been abroad

on an investigation.

I've spent quite a lot of money,

and my chief can be

very sarcastic

about the money one spends,

particularly if you fail

to deliver the goods.

Mr. Clayton

is presently interested

in the Vanmeer murder case.

The Vanmeer murder case.

Oh, yes, yes, that fellow

in the Colonial Office.

Yes, I read about that

in the paper.

It was a shocking affair.

According to Mr. Vanmeer's

appointment book,

Mr. Peterson, you had lunch

with him at the Savoy

a few days before his death.

That's quite correct.

Mr. Vanmeer was expert

on African matters.

We wanted his advice

about affairs

in British East.

Recall the subject

under discussion?

Vaguely.

Uh, crop yield.

The native labor situation.

Inches of rain.

Vaccination shots. Heh.

How long had you known

Mr. Vanmeer?

Oh, a couple of months.

We met half a dozen times.

Did he ever make mention of any

enemies, business or otherwise?

Did he say anything

about romantic attachments?

I mean, did he name any women?

No.

I should have been

very surprised if he had done.

Mr. Vanmeer struck me as being

every inch a gentleman.

Oh, of course, of course.

Well, uh, that's all,

unless somebody has anything

further to add?

I have.

I think you ought to know

that the business of one

of these businessmen is murder.

I beg your pardon?

Major Ross, I mean.

I can't guarantee Major Ross

murdered this Vanmeer person.

I assure you, however,

he attempted to murder

my husband

with a long, thin dagger,

which he always carried about

in what looked like

an innocent swagger stick.

Go on, Mrs. Chelm.

You see, Major Ross is

employed by Mr. Peterson there

to do his dirty work.

One might say

he's a professional killer.

My husband found out certain

things about Mr. Peterson.

Things, in point of fact,

that are a matter of empire,

involving as they do,

a plot to exploit

our kingdom's

uranium resources.

And that's why

Mr. Peterson decided

to have him done away with.

Don't run away,

Mr. Peterson.

That's always tantamount

to a confession of guilt.

"Can't amount"

is what I call it.

More champagne, Clayton?

No, thank you.

As I said before,

very smart fellows indeed.

Should you ever

think of me in Earls Court,

that's where I'll be,

helping Harry's parents

with the lodgers.

Should you ever think of me,

try not to let it be

too harshly.

You kiss her too, Billy.

And tell her

she's forgiven.

Sure, sure.

Goodbye, Billy.

Bye.

For Mrs. Chelm.

Just came over ship's wire.

Oh, by the way,

Mr. Dannreuther,

do you know that your associates

are all in hoosegow?

Oh, not that

I'm a bit surprised.

I put them down

as thoroughly bad characters.

Right off the bat.

But then there are so many

bad characters nowadays.

Take mine, for instance.

Harry!

He's alive!

Oh...

Oh, this is the end.

The end.

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