doing is to recruit a committee to investigate. There are not
very many of us at the moment forming this committee. We
ask you to join it because we think that you have certain
qualities which may help in an investigation.'
Stafford Nye turned his head towards the Security man.
'What about it, Horsham?' he said. 'I can't believe you'd
agree with that?'
'Why not?' said Henry Horsham.
'Indeed? What are my "qualities", as you call them? I
can't, quite frankly, believe in them myself.'
'You're not a hero-worshipper,' said Horsham. That's why. You're the kind who sees through humbug. You don't take
anyone at their own or the world's valuation. You take them
at your own valuation.'
Ce n'est pas un garyon serieux. The words floated through
Sir Stafford Nye's mind. A curious reason for which to be
chosen for a difficult and exacting job.
'I've got to warn you,' he said, 'that my principal fault,
and one that's been frequently noticed about me and which
has cost me several good jobs is, I think, fairly well known.
I'm not, I should say, a sufficiently serious sort pf chap for
an important job like this.'
"Believe it or not,' said Mr Horsham, 'that's one of the
reasons why they want you. I'm right, my lord, aren't I?'
He looked towards Lord Altamount.
'Public service!' said Lord Altamount. 'Let me tell you
that very often one of the most serious disadvantages in
public life is when people in a public position take themselves
too seriously. We feel that you won't. Anyway,' he
said, 'Mary Arm thinks so.'
Sir Stafford Nye turned his head. So here she was, no
longer a countess. She had become Mary Arm again.
'You don't mind my asking,' he said, 'but who are you
really? I mean, are you a real countess.'
'Absolutely. Geboren, as the Germans say. My father was
a man of pedigree, a good sportsman, a splendid shot, and
had a very romantic but somewhat dilapidated castle in
Bavaria. It's, still there, the castle. As far as that goes, I
have connections with that large portion of the European
world which is still heavily snobbish as far as birth is concerned.
A poor and shabby countess sits down first at the
table whilst a rich American with a fabulous fortune in dollars "t the bank is kept waiting.'
81
"What about Daphne Theodofanous? Where does she come
in?'
'A useful name for a passport. My mother was Greek.'
,'And Mary Arm?'
It was almost the first smile Stafford Nye had seen on
her face. Her eyes went to Lord Altamount and from him
to Mr Robinson.
'Perhaps,' she said, 'because I'm a kind of maid-of-allwork,
going places, looking for- things, taking things from
one country to another, sweeping under the mat, do anything,
go anywhere, clear up the mess.' She looked towards
Lord Altamount again. 'Am I right,-Uncle Ned?'
'Quite right, my dear. Mary Arm you are and always
will be to us.'
'Were you taking something on that plane? I mean taking
something important from one country to another?'
'Yes. It was known I was carrying it. If you hacSa't
come to my rescue, if you hadn't drunk possibly pois^ ,,.;
beer and handed over your bandit cloak of bright co' s
as a disguise, well, accidents happen sometimes. I shoi - t
have got here.'
'What were you carrying--or mustn't I ask? Are os;
things I shall never know?'
'There are a lot of things you will never know. ''. ere
are a lot of things you won't be allowed to ask. I '.' that question of yours I shall answer. A bare answe ';
fact. If I am allowed to do so.'
Again she looked at Lord Altamount.
'I trust your judgment,' said Lord Altamount. 'Go at --' '
'Give him the dope,' said the irreverent James I r'
Mr Horsham said, 'I suppose you've got to know. / woi
tell you, but then I'm Security. Go ahead, Mary Arm
'One sentence. / was bringing a birth certificate. That s an. I don't tell you any more and it won't be any use ywr asking any more questions.'
Stafford Nye looked round the assembly.
'All right. I'll join. I'm flattered at your asking me. T 8 do we go from here?'
'You and I,' said Renata, 'leave here tomorrow. ^ to the Continent. You may have read, or know, that
a Musical Festival taking place in Bavaria. It is som ^ quite new which has only come into being in the la; ' ;
years. It has a rather formidable German name meaning Company of Youthful Singers" and is supported t
Governments of several different countries. It is in opposition
to the traditional festivals and productions of Bayreuth. Much
of the music given is modern--new young composers are
given the chance of their compositions being heard. Whilst
thought of highly by some, it is utterly repudiated and held in contempt by others.'
'Yes,' said Sir Stafford, 'I have read about it. Are we
going to attend it?'
'We have seats booked for two of the performances.'
'Has this festival any special significance in our investigation?
'
'No,' said Renata. 'It is more in the nature of what you
might call an exit and entry convenience. We go there for
an ostensible and true reason, and we leave it for our next
step in due course.'
He looked round. 'Instructions? Do I get any marching
orders? Am I to be briefed?'
'Not in your meaning of those terms. You are going
on a voyage of exploration. You will learn things as you
go along. You will go as yourself, knowing only what you
know at present. You go as a lover of music, as a slightly
disappointed diplomat who had perhaps hoped for some
post in his own country which he has not been given. Otherwise,
you will know nothing. It is safer so.'
'But that is the sum of activities at present? Germany,
Bavaria, Austria, the Tyrol--that part of the world?'
'It is one of the centres of interest.'
'It is not the only one?'
'Indeed, not even the principal one. There are other" spots on the globe, all of varying importance and interest.
How much importance each one holds is what we have to
find out.'
'And I don't know, or am not to be told, anything about
these other centres?'
'Only in cursory fashion. One of them, we think the roost important one, has its headquarters in South America,
there are two with headquarters in the United States of
America, one in California, the other in Baltimore. There
is one in Sweden, there is one in Italy. Things have become ^ry active in the latter in the last six months. Portugal ^d Spain also have smaller centres. Paris, of course. There are further interesting spots just "coming into production",
you might say. As yet not fully developed,'
You mean Malaya, or Vietnam?'
a. 5'
R I? 83
'No. No, all that lies rather in the past. It was a good
rallying cry for violence and student indignation and foi
many other things.
'What is being promoted, you must understand, is the
growing organization of you
th everywhere against their mode
of government; against their parental customs, against very
often the religions in which they have been brought up,
There is the insidious cult of permissiveness, there is the
increasing cult of violence. Violence not as a means of gaining
money, but violence for the love of violence. That particularly
is stressed, and the reasons for it are to the people
concerned one of the most important things and of the
utmost significance.'
'Permissiveness, is that important?'
'It is a way of life, no more. It lends itself to certain
abuses but not unduly.'
'What about drugs?'
The cult of drugs has been deliberately advanced and
fomented. Vast sums of money have been made that way,
but it is not, or so we think, entirely activated for the money
motive.'
All of them looked at Mr Robinson, who slowly shook
his head.
'No,' he said, 'it looks that way. There are people who
are being apprehended and brought to justice. Pushers of
drugs will be followed up. But there is more than just the
drug racket behind all this. The drug racket is a means,
and an evil means, of making money. But there is more to
it than that.'
'But who--' Stafford Nye stopped.
'Who and what and why and where? The four Was.
That is your mission. Sir Stafford,' said Mr Robinson. 'That's
what you've got to find out. You and Mary Arm. It won't
be easy, and one of the hardest things in the world, remember,
is to keep one's secrets.'
Stafford Nye looked with interest at the fat yellov cace
of Mr Robinson. Perhaps the secret of Mr Rob r.son's
domination in the financial world was just that. His ;'icret was that he kept his secret. Mr Robinson's mouth s owed
its smile again. The large teeth gleamed.
'If you know a thing,' he said, 'it is always a great .eroptation
to show that you know it; to talk about it, ii "^net words. It is not that you want to give informatiol, it is not that you have been offered payment to give'infon "on' It is that you want to show how important you ar ^ss) 84
it's just as simple as that. In fact,' said Mr Robinson, and
he half closed his eyes, 'everyttung in this world is so very, very simple. That's what people don't understand.'
The Countess got to her feet and Stafford Nye followed
her example.
'I hope you will sleep well and be comfortable,' said
Mr Robinson. This house is, I think, moderately comfortable.'
Stafford Nye murmured that he was quite sure of that,
and on that point he was shortly to be proved to have been
quite right. He laid his head on the pillow and went to
sleep immediately.
85
Chapter 10
They came out of the Festival Youth Theatre to the refreshing
night air. Below "them in a sweep of the ground, was a
lighted restaurant. On the side of the hill was another, smaller
one. The restaurants varied slightly in price though neither
of them was inexpensive. Renata was in evening dress of
black velvet. Sir Stafford Nye was in white tie and full
evening dress.
'A very distinguished audience,' murmured Stafford Nye
to his companion. 'Plenty of money there. A young audience
on the whole. You wouldn't think they could afford it.'
'Oh! that can be seen to--it is seen to.'
A subsidy for the 61ite of youth? That kind of thing?'
'Yes.'
They walked towards the restaurant on the high side of the hill.
They give you an hour for the meal. Is that right?'
Technically an hour. Actually an hour and a quarter.*
That audience,' said Sir Stafford Nye, 'most of them,
nearly all of them, I should say, are real lovers of music,'
'Most of them, yes. It's important, you know.'
'What do you mean--important?'
That the enthusiasm should be genuine. At both ends of the scale,' she added.
'What did you mean, exactly, by that?'
Those who practise and organize violence must love
violence, must want it, must yearn for it. The seal of ecstasy
in every movement, of slashing, hurting, destroying. And
the same thing with the music. The ears must appreciate
every moment of the harmonies and beauties. There can
be no pretending in this game.'
'Can you double the roles--do you mean you can combine
violence and a love of music or a love of art?'
'It is not always easy, I think, but yes. There are many
who can. It is safer really, if they don't have to combine
r61es.'
'It's better to keep it simple, as our fat friend Mr Robinson
would say? Let the lovers of music love music, let the
violent practitioners love violence. Is that what you mean?'
I think so.'
1 am enjoying this very much. The two days that we
89
have stayed here, the two nights of music that we have
enjoyed. I have not enjoyed all the music because I am not
perhaps sufficiently modern in my taste. I find the clothes
very interesting.'
'Are you talking of the stage production?'
'No, no, I was talking of the audience, really. You and I, the squares, the old-fashioned. You, Countess, in your society
gown, I in my white tie and tails. Not a comfortable getup,
it never has been. And then the others, the silks and the velvets,
the ruffled shirts of the men, real lace, I noticed, several times
--and the plush and the hair and the luxury of avant garde, the luxury of the eighteen-hundreds or you might almost say of
the Elizabethan age or of Van Dyck pictures.'
'Yes, you are right.'
Tm no nearer, though, to what it all means. I haven't learnt anything. I haven't found out anything.'
'You mustn't be impatient. This is a rich show, supported,
asked for, demanded perhaps by youth and provided by--'
'By whom?'
'We don't know yet. We shall know.'
'I'm so glad you are sure of it.'
They went into the restaurant and sat down. The food
was good though not in any way ornate or luxurious. Once
or twice they were spoken to by an acquaintance or a
friend. Two people who recognized Sir Stafford Nye expressed
pleasure and surprise at seeing him. Renata had a bigger
circle of acquaintances since she knew more foreigners--
well-dressed women, a man or two, mostly German or Austrian,
Stafford Nye thought, one or two Americans. Just a
few desultory words. Where people had come from or were
going to. criticism or appreciation of the musical fare. Nobody
wasted much time since the interval for eating had not been very long.
They returned to their seats for the two final musical
offerings. A Symphonic Poem, 'Disintegration in Joy', by at new young composer, Solukonov, and then the solemn
grandeur of the March of the Meistersingers.
They came out again into the night. The car which was
at their disposal every day was waiting there to take them
back to the small but exclusive hotel in the village street.
Stafford Nye said good-night to Renata. She spoke to him in a lowered voice.
'Four a.m.,' she said. 'Be ready.'
She went straight into her room and shut the door and
he went to his.
90
The faint scrape of fingers on his door came precisely at three minutes to four the next morning. He opened the
door and stood ready.
"The car is waiting,' she said. 'Come.'
They lunched at a small mountain inn. The weather was
good, the mountains beautiful. Occasionally Stafford Nye
wondered what on earth he was doing here. He understood
less and less of his travelling companion. She spoke little.
He found himself watching her profile. Where was she taking
him? What was her real reason? At last, as the sun was
almost setting, he said:
'Where are we going? Can I ask?'
'You can ask, yes.'
'But you do not reply?'
'I could reply. I could tell you things, but would they
mean anything? It seems to me that if you come to where
we are going without my preparing you with explanations
(which cannot in the nature of things mean anything), your
first impressions will have more force and significance.'
He looked at her again thoughtfully. She was wearing a
tweed coat trimmed with fur, smart travelling clothes, foreign
in make and cut.
'Mary Arm,' he said thoughtfully.
There was a faint question in it;
'No,' she said, 'not at the moment.'
'Ah. You are still the Countess Zerkowski.'
'At the moment I am still the Countess Zerkowski.'
'Are you in your own part of the world?'
'More or less. I grew up as a child in this part of the
world. For a good portion of each year we used to come
here in the autumn to a Schloss not very many miles from
here.'
He smiled and said thoughtfully, 'What a nice word it is.
A Schloss. So solid-sounding.'
'Schlosser are not standing very solidly nowadays. They
are mostly disintegrated.'
This is Hitler's country, isn't it? We're not far, are we,
from Berchtesgaden?'
'It lies over there to the northeast.'
'Did your relations, your friends--did they accept Hitler,
believe in him? Perhaps I ought not to ask things like that.' '. 'They disliked him and all he stood for. But they said
"Heil Hitler". They acquiesced in what had happened to
91
their country. What else could they do? What else could
anybody do at that date?'
'We are going towards the Dolomites, are we not?'-
'Does it matter where we are, or which way we are
going?'
'Well, this is a voyage of exploration, is it not?'
'Yes, but the exploration is not geographical. We are
going to see a personality.'
'You make me feel--' Stafford Nye looked up at the
landscape of swelling mountains reaching up to the sky--
*as though we were going to visit the famous Old Man of -'the Mountain.'
The Master of the Assassins, you mean, who kept his followers
under drugs so that they died for him wholeheartedly,
so that they killed, knowing that they themselves would also
be killed, but believing, too, that that would transfer them
immediately to the Moslem Paradise--beautiful women, hashish
and erotic dreams--perfect and unending happiness.'
She paused a minute and then said:
'Spell-binders! I suppose they've always been there throughout
the ages. People who make you believe in them so that
you are ready to die for them. Not only Assassins. The
Christians died also.'
'The holy Martyrs? Lord Altamount?'
'Why do you say Lord Altamount?'
1 saw him that way--suddenly--that evening. Carved in
stone--in a thirteenth-century cathedral, perhaps.'
'One of us may have to die. Perhaps more.'
She stopped what he was about to say.
There is another thing I think of sometimes. A verse in
the New Testament--Luke, I think. Christ at the Last Supper
saying to his followers: "You are my companions and my
friends, yet one of you is a devil." So in all probability one
of us is a devil.'
'You think it possible?'
'Almost certain. Someone we trust and know, but who
goes to sleep at night, not dreaming of martyrdom but of
thirty pieces of silver, and who wakes with the feel of them
in the palm of his hand.'
The love of money?'
'Ambition covers it better. How does one recognize a
devil? How would one fcnow? A devil Would stand out in a
crowd, would be exciting--would advertise himself--would
exercise leadership,'
She was silent a moment and then said in a thoughtful
voice:
'I had a friend once in the Diplomatic Service who told
me how she had said to a German woman how moved she
herself had been at the performance of the Passion Play at