Judgment on Deltchev by Eric Ambler Read Free Book Online Page A

and then forgotten. I opened it. The biscuits were the kind with pink icing sugar on them.
    ‘Not very good for a bad stomach,’ I remarked.
    He took one with a polite smile. ‘Oh yes. Excellent.’ He nibbled at it with very white false teeth.
    ‘Pashik gave me your piece on Deltchev to read,’ I said.
    ‘Oh, yes? It was considered unsuitable for publication.’
    ‘By Pashik?’
    ‘Yes, but I was not surprised or upset. I knew that it had been commissioned in the belief that because I had had a difference of opinion with Yordan I would therefore write about him in an unfavourable way. If Pashik had asked me, I would have told him what to expect. Fortunately he did not ask.’
    ‘Fortunately?’
    ‘If he had known he would not have commissioned the article, and I needed the money.’
    ‘Oh, I see. I have a bottle of whisky here. Would it be safe to ask the floor waiter for some glasses?’
    ‘I think not. Perhaps I may have another biscuit.’
    ‘Of course, please help yourself. You know, Herr Petlarov, I came here to write a series of articles about the trial of Deltchev. But Pashik seems afraid that I shall offend the censor if I do them here.’
    ‘He is probably right,’ he said calmly. ‘He is usually right about these thing. Yes, I can see. If you offend he will be blamed.’
    I must have looked disbelieving. He took another biscuit. ‘I will tell you a little story about the regime. Amember of the People’s Party wrote a novel about the fight of a group of workmen with the capitalists who wished to close a factory. It was a naïve story in which the capitalists were all monsters of evil and the workmen’s leader a People’s Party man. The Propaganda Minister, whose name is Brankovitch, would not, however, allow its publication. He said that the hero was not positive.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    ‘The author had not demonstrated that the hero member of the party was a
good
man.’
    ‘But surely that was inferred.’
    ‘Brankovitch would say that you were in intellectual error, Herr Foster. Inference is not positive. The public must be
instructed
that the man is good, as they must be instructed in all things.’
    ‘You must be exaggerating.’
    ‘In London or New York I would be exaggerating. Here, no. The sequel to this is that the writer was angry and made a little propaganda of his own. He has now been sent to forced labour. Pashik does not see that fate for himself. You see, Herr Foster, those who must be persuaded to obey are no longer important, for shortly we shall cease to exist. Our liquidation has begun.’ He smiled significantly.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    He took another biscuit and held it up. ‘This is the third biscuit I have taken,’ he said. ‘There are twenty-one left in the box. I can eat nine more.’
    ‘You can have the box.’
    He inclined his head. ‘Thank you. I had hoped that you would give it to me. I had based my calculations on your doing so. If I eat nine more I shall have eaten twelve. Thatwill leave twelve for my wife. Luckily we have no children to share with us.’
    I was silent.
    ‘I will explain. It is quite simple. Persons who are listed as untrustworthy are not allowed to work at anything but manual labour. I tried that, but I am not strong enough. So, as I cannot work, my wife and I may not have ration cards. We are, of course, very often hungry, and that can make a good argument for obedience.’
    I got up and went to the wardrobe for the whisky. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him reaching for another biscuit. He glanced over his shoulder at me.
    ‘Please do not distress yourself, Herr Foster. A bad conscience can, I know, be as unpleasant in some ways as an empty stomach, and the person with the biscuits so often has a bad conscience. The trouble is that most of us with empty stomachs also have bad consciences. That combination will prove deadly.’
    ‘I have a metal cup,’ I said, ‘and also a toothglass. If you like whisky—’
    ‘I