Moeller was fitting a cigarette into a short amber holder as if he had time to waste. Obviously he had not expected any answer to his question. He had the self-contained air of a man who is early for an important appointment. When he finished with the cigarette-holder he looked up. “I like you, Mr. Graham,” he said. “I was, I have admitted, irritated when Banat made such a fool of himself in Istanbul. But now that I know you I am glad that he did so. You behaved gracefully over that awkwardness at the dinner-table the night we sailed. You listened politely to my carefully memorised recitations. You are a clever engineer, and yet you are not aggressive. I should not like to think of your being killed-murdered-by any employee of mine.” He lit his cigarette. “And yet, the demands made upon us by our life’s needs are so uncompromising. I am compelled to be offensive. I must tell you that, as things stand at present, you will be dead within a few minutes of your landing at Genoa on Saturday morning.”
Graham had himself in hand now. He said: “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Moeller nodded approval. “I am glad to see you take it so calmly. If I were in your place I should be very frightened. But then, of course”-the pale blue eyes narrowed suddenly-“ I should know that there was no possible chance of my escaping. Banat, in spite of his lapse in Istanbul, is a formidable young man. And when I consider the fact that ready waiting for me in Genoa there would be reinforcements consisting of several other men quite as experienced as Banat, I should realise that there was not the remotest chance of my being able to reach any sort of sanctuary before the end came. I should be left with only one hope-that they did their work so efficiently that I should know very little about it.”
“What do you mean by ‘as things stand at present’?”
Moeller smiled triumphantly. “Ah! I am so glad. You have gone straight to the heart of the matter. I mean, Mr. Graham, that you need not necessarily die. There is an alternative.”
“I see. A lesser evil.” But his heart leaped in spite of himself.
“Scarcely an evil,” Moeller objected. “An alternative and by no means an unpleasant one.” He settled himself more comfortably. “I have already said that I liked you, Mr. Graham. Let me add that I dislike the prospect of violence quite as whole-heartedly as you do. I am lily-livered. I admit it freely. I will go out of my way to avoid seeing the results of an automobile accident. So, you see, if there is any way of settling this matter without bloodshed I should be prejudiced in favour of it. And if you are still uncertain of my personal goodwill towards you, let me put the question in another and harder light. The killing would have to be hurried, would consequently subject the killers to additional risks and would, therefore, be expensive. Don’t misunderstand me, please. I shall spare no expense if it is necessary. But, naturally enough, I hope it won’t be necessary. I can assure you that no one, with the possible exception of yourself, will be more delighted than I am if we can dispose of this whole thing in a friendly way as between business men. I hope you will at least believe that I am sincere in that.”
Graham began to get angry. “I don’t care a damn whether you’re sincere or not.”
Moeller looked crestfallen. “No, I suppose you don’t. I was forgetting that you have been under some nervous strain. You are naturally interested only in getting home safely to England. That may be possible. It just depends on how calmly and logically you can approach the situation. It is necessary, as you must have gathered, that the completion of the work you are doing should be delayed. Now, if you die before you get back to England, somebody else will be sent to Turkey to do your work over again. I understand that the work as a whole would thus be delayed for six weeks. I also understand that that delay would be sufficient for the purposes of those interested. You might, might you not, conclude from that that the simplest way of dealing with the matter would be to kidnap you in Genoa and keep you under lock and key for the requisite six weeks and then release you, eh?”
“You might.”