The Best of British Crime omnibus Read Online Free Page A

delegation?’
    â€˜No, I’m a newspaperman.’
    â€˜Oh, one of them!’ I feared I was to be plunged back into pariahdom. ‘Well, mind you write the truth, that’s all. The working class has come into its own in Russia, and don’t you forget it. There’s no “nobs” there; it’s fair do’s for everybody. You put that in your paper, young man, and you won’t go far wrong.’
    â€˜I’ll remember,’ I said gravely. I would have passed on, but there was barely room to squeeze by. ‘How are you enjoying the trip, Mrs Clarke?’
    â€˜It’s lovely,’ she said, ‘but I can’t stay I’ll be sorry when we get there. Tiring, that’s what it is. On your feet the whole time – it’s worse than canvassing. But they’re all such nice people. Give you a real welcome, they do, and no class distinctions. Look at those flowers they give Miss Manning and me – makes you feel like a princess.’
    â€˜Beautiful,’ I said. ‘I’ve just had the pleasure of meeting Miss Manning.’
    Mrs Clarke’s face lit up. ‘Now there’s a real nice girl for you,’ she said. ‘Got money, you know, but she doesn’t boast about it. We go around everywhere together – you wouldn’t find that happening in England, would you? But she believes in the working class. A bit stiff she was, at first, but I soon put her at her ease. “Call me Ethel,” I said, “we might as well start the way we’re going on.” Now we’re just like sisters. We have fine old times together, going to meetings and parties and theatres.’
    For the first time I felt a certain regard for Perdita. At least she’d taken the trouble to conceal her real feelings from her companion.
    â€˜She’s clever, too,’ Mrs Clarke went on. ‘She does these statues and things. Real people, like Madame Tussauds, only in marble. ‘Course, I’ve only seen photos – she’s brought lots of photos with her. Clever – you’d never believe! They’re going to give her a sort of sworry when we get to Moscow, and she’s going to do a statue of Comrade Stalin’s head if he’s got time. Mind you, he’s a very busy man, we know that, but he wouldn’t have to stop working, would he? Good luck to her, I say. Oh, well, I mustn’t keep you from your dinner. Don’t forget to tell ‘em, will you – I’m all right, you know, but just off me food.’
    I said I wouldn’t forget, and walked through to the dining-car. I was still being segregated – the attendant showed me to a place on the opposite side of the gangway from the delegation and a couple of tables away. The Red Army officers were also on their own.
    Thomas nodded to me, and when he could get a word in he introduced me to Mullett across the gap.
    â€˜Ah,’ said Mullett affably, ‘a gentleman of the Press, eh? Well, we shall all have to mind our P’s and Q’s now. What paper, Mr Verney?’
    â€˜The Record .’ I said, feeling slightly aggressive.
    â€˜Ah – the Record .’ He gave a sigh of well-mannered disappointment. ‘I can’t say it’s a paper I see very often myself. A little – er – sensational, perhaps. However… ’ In turn he introduced me to the other delegates.
    I said: ‘Oh, Mrs Clarke asked me to tell you that she wouldn’t be in to lunch. She isn’t feeling very well.’
    â€˜Dear me,’ said Mullett. ‘I hope the celebrations haven’t been too much for her.’ Robson Bolting looked across at Perdita.
    â€™Mightn’t it be as well, perhaps, to see if she needs anything?’
    â€˜All she needs is a rest,’ said Perdita. ‘She’ll be much better left alone.’
    He nodded. ‘I daresay you’re right.’
    â€˜After all,’ she added, with a touch of