Free N or M by Agatha Christie

had remained empty for some years, being let with a modicum of furniture to summer visitors.
    “Then in 1926,” explained Haydock, “it was sold to a man called Hahn. He was a German, and if you ask me, he was neither more nor less than a spy.”
    Tommy's ears quickened.
    “That's interesting,” he said, putting down the glass from which he had been sipping sherry.
    “Damned thorough fellows they are,” said Haydock. “Getting ready even then for this show - at least that is my opinion. Look at the situation of this place. Perfect for signalling out to sea. Cove below where you could land a motor-boat. Completely isolated, owing to the contour of the cliff. Oh, yes, don't tell me that fellow Hahn wasn't a German agent.”
    Major Bletchley said:
    “Of course he was.”
    “What happened to him?” asked Tommy.
    “Ah!” said Haydock, “thereby hangs a tale. Hahn spent a lot of money on this place. He had a way cut down to the beach for one thing - concrete steps - expensive business. Then he had the whole of the house done over - bathrooms, every expensive gadget you can imagine. And who did he set to do all this? Not local men. No, a firm from London, so it was said - but a lot of the men who came down were foreigners. Some of them didn't speak a word of English. Don't you agree with me that that sounds extremely fishy?”
    “A little odd, certainly,” agreed Tommy.
    “I was in the neighbourhood myself at the time, living in a bungalow, and I got interested in what this fellow was up to. I used to hang about to watch the workmen. Now I'll tell you this - they didn't like it - they didn't like it at all. Once or twice they were quite threatening about it. Why should they be if everything was all square and above board?”
    Bletchley nodded agreement.
    “You ought to have gone to the authorities,” he said.
    “Just what I did do, my dear fellow. Made a positive nuisance of myself pestering the police.”
    He poured himself out another drink.
    “And what did I get for my pains? Polite inattention. Blind and deaf, that's what we were in this country. Another war with Germany was out of the question - there was peace in Europe - our relations with Germany were excellent. Natural sympathy between us nowadays. I was regarded as an old fossil, a war maniac, a diehard old sailor. What was the good of pointing out to people that the Germans were building the finest Air Force in Europe and not just to fly round and have picnics!”
    Major Bletchley said explosively:
    “Nobody believed it! Damned fools! 'Peace in our time.' 'Appeasement.' All a lot of blah!”
    Haydock said, his face redder than usual with suppressed anger: “A warmonger, that's what they called me. The sort of chap, they said, who was an obstacle to peace. Peace! I knew what our Hun friends were at! And mind this, they prepare things a long time beforehand. I was convinced that Mr Hahn was up to no good. I didn't like his foreign workmen. I didn't like the way he was spending money on this place. I kept on badgering away at people.”
    “Stout fellow,” said Bletchley appreciatively.
    “And finally,” said the Commander, “I began to make an impression. We had a new Chief Constable down here - retired soldier. And he had the sense to listen to me. His fellows began to nose around. Sure enough, Hahn decamped. Just slipped out and disappeared one fine night. The police went over this place with a search warrant. In a safe which had been built-in in the dining room they found a wireless transmitter and some pretty damaging documents. Also a big store place under the garage for petrol - great tanks. I can tell you I was cock-a-hoop over that. Fellows at the club used to rag me about my German Spy complex. They dried up after that. Trouble with us in this country is that we're so absurdly unsuspicious.”
    “It's a crime. Fools - that's what we are - fools. Why don't we intern all these refugees?” Major Bletchley was well away.
    “End of the story