never seriously disputed, that if he wasn’t the criminal they tried to make him out, he was something very nearly as bad — a fool. Forgive me, madame, but what you do not seem to realize is that any protest against your husband’s trial is a political act. No foreign office and no responsible newspaper is going to make that protest unless it is absolutely certain that he is innocent. They must know the truth.’
‘It isn’t true. The case against him is a lie. What else can I say?’
‘To what extent did your husband confide in you?’
‘What does it matter? If I tell you that he always confided in me you will say that this particular matter might have been too dangerous to confide. If I say that he did not confide it, it is no different.’
‘If he were in any way involved in this conspiracy would you have known?’
‘Yes. He was not involved.’
‘Did you know that he was going to make that election broadcast before he made it?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Did you know why he was going to make it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why was it?’
She shook her head hopelessly. I knew she was lying.
‘Was it because at one time, long ago, your husband had been a member of the Officer Corps Brotherhood?’
For a moment she was quite still. Then, slowly, she raised her head and stared at me. ‘Is that a serious question, Herr Foster?’ she asked coolly.
I knew suddenly that it was not a serious question, but part of a fantasy in a locked room. I began to mumble, ‘It was a faint possibility, madame.’ She still stared at me. ‘It could have been a youthful indiscretion, a mistake…’ I petered out.
She smiled in a twisted sort of way. ‘Yordan does not make that kind of indiscretion. He is always an intelligent man. Are there any other questions, Herr Foster?’ she added.
If I had had any advantage it was suddenly quite gone. ‘Have you ever heard the name of Pazar before?’
‘It is a Turkish name. I know no one who has it.’
‘Or Eftib?’
‘No. Nor any of the other persons mentioned today.’
‘Aleko?’
‘Was that name mentioned?’
‘No. Do you know it?’
‘It is a short name for Alexander. That is all I know.’
‘Valmo?’
‘It is a fairly common surname, but it means nothing in particular to me. Should it do so?’
‘I don’t know.’ I stood up. ‘Thank you for receiving me, madame.’
‘It is nothing.’ She stood up too and switched on a reading-lamp.
‘Before I go, I should like, if I may, to speak to your daughter,’ I said.
She stiffened. ‘Why?’
‘I should like to ask her some questions.’
‘Perhaps I can answer them for you.’
‘Perhaps.’ I hesitated. ‘When I left here two nights ago, madame, your daughter asked me to take out a letter for her and deliver it to a man named Valmo.’ I paused.
She tried unsuccessfully to smile. ‘My daughter is an attractive young woman. She has her affairs of the heart.’
‘Yes, that was the impression of the letter she succeeded in giving to me. I agreed to take it.’
‘That was chivalrous of you.’
‘The address on the letter was Patriarch Dimo, nine. I found the place. It is a disused house in a slum.’
‘And did you find the young man?’
I shook my head. She relaxed perceptibly.
‘If you will give me the letter, Herr Foster, I will see that it is returned to my daughter. It was good of you to take so much trouble.’ She held out her hand.
I said, ‘I did not find a young man, madame. I found a dead one. He had been shot.’
Very slowly she sat down. ‘Had he shot himself?’ she asked softly.
‘No. The wound was in the back of the head.’
She did not move. ‘A young man?’
‘No. Grey-haired, about fifty I should think. Why do you ask?’
She straightened up a little. ‘I thought perhaps some poor young student-’ She broke off and drew a deep breath. ‘There are so many tragedies. You must have gone to the wrong house, Herr Foster.’
‘No. It was the right house. But if the dead man was the person who had called himself Valmo, then your daughter knew Pazar. For that was the dead man’s real name.’
There was a silence. She did not look at me.
‘Did the police tell you that?’ she said at last.
‘I did not go to the police. It would have been difficult to explain how I came to be visiting the Brotherhood assassin they are supposed to be searching for. Difficult and embarrassing for us all.’
‘We are in your debt, Herr Foster.’
‘Perhaps you would prefer your daughter to explain,’ I said.
She looked at her handkerchief. ‘My daughter is not here.’
I was silent.
She looked at me. ‘I am speaking the truth, Herr Foster.’
‘I understood that everyone here was under house arrest.’
‘My daughter is not here. She has gone.’
‘Do you mean that the police took her away?’
‘No. She escaped.’
‘How? What about the guards?’
‘Katerina has lived in this house all her life, Herr Foster. There are other ways of leaving it than by the gates.’
I hesitated. ‘A few minutes ago, madame, I asked you if you had heard of Pazar before. You said that you had not. Do you still say that?’
‘Yes. It is the truth.’
‘But others in this house do know him?’
‘I do not.’
‘Do you know where your daughter has gone?’
‘No.’
‘When did she go?’
‘This evening.’
‘Can you think of any reason why she should go?’
‘Herr Foster, I am very tired.’
I waited a moment or two, but she did not look up again. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I think I might have been of help to you.’
‘I have told you all I can.’
‘You have told me all you think it advisable for me to know, madame.’
‘Good night, Herr Foster.’ She pressed the bell-push.
I said good night and picked up my hat, but as I got to the door she spoke again.
‘Herr Foster.’
I stopped.
‘My daughter’s letter. Will you give it to me, please?’
‘It is burned.’
‘Are you sure?’
