In That first moment, Piper thought he had never seen anyone quite like Fritz Haupmann’s daughter. Her impact on him was almost startling.
She was the Nordic type: flaxen hair and wide blue eyes, the pink-and-white complexion of a true blonde. Her figure was smoothly rounded, her legs long and slim. From head to foot she had a lush beauty that aroused long-forgotten desire.
When he stood up she smiled at him as if she recognised the look in his eyes. He told himself that she knew his thoughts, that it was not the first time a man had revealed his mind when he looked at her.
Against his will he glanced down at her left hand. She wore no rings. He felt a hot embarrassment when she caught his eye and her smile acknowledged what he was thinking.
Haupmann said, “You’re not intruding at all, dear. I’d like you to meet Mr. Piper … my daughter, Gizelle.”
She said, “How d’you do …”
Her hand was soft and cool. She let Piper hold it a little longer than was customary.
He was annoyed with himself at the effect she had on him. To let a girl’s smile turn his head was stupid. At thirty-five he ought to know better. …
Gizelle Haupmann asked, “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before, Mr. Piper? Your face seems familiar.”
Piper said, “I don’t think we’ve ever met. If we had I’m sure I’d remember it.”
“No, I didn’t mean we’d spoken to each other. But I have an idea”—the deep blue of her eyes became clouded with doubt—“that I’ve seen you, or someone very much like you, not long ago. I wonder where it could’ve been?”
“A chance resemblance, perhaps.”
She went on looking at him for a moment longer, her full lower lip held between her teeth. Then she said, “I suppose it could be that.”
Her smile returned—a radiant smile that made her eyes dance. With laughter in her mouth, she asked, “You aren’t, by any chance, one of the policemen who booked me for speeding the other day?”
Piper said, “No, I don’t belong to the police, Miss Haupmann.”
“You look as if you might do.”
“I’ve been mistaken, more than once, for a plainclothes detective but I’m just a very ordinary person who earns his living in the insurance business.”
With mock solemnity, she said, “Pity … I mean it’s a pity you’re not the man who booked me. I might’ve tried to persuade you to have the summons withdrawn.”
“You’d probably have succeeded,” Piper said.
“You only say that because you’re not a policeman. But thank you for being so gallant.”
Piper wondered if she made herself provocative to every man she met. The look on her face was one of childlike innocence but there was nothing innocent in her eyes. If they were ever alone together …
Haupmann said, “Some day you’ll lose your licence … or I’ll lose my patience and stop you driving the car.”
She stared at her father with wide-eyed impudence. She said, “You wouldn’t do that—not to your favourite daughter.”
“I will if you don’t behave yourself. You drive far too fast.”
“Not always. Only when I’m in a hurry.”
“That seems to be most of the time. However”—he gave Piper a look of resignation and then he turned to Gizelle again—“you evidently haven’t got a pressing engagement right now.”
She said, “That sounds almost as if you wanted to get rid of me.”
“Exactly what I was trying to convey without making it too obvious.”
“You’re as subtle as a sledge-hammer, Father dear … but I can take a hint.” She made a face at him and then she asked, “Can I also take the Rover?”
“Why? What’s wrong with your mother’s car?”
“It won’t start. I think the battery’s flat.”
“She must’ve left the lights on again. What time do you expect to be back?”
“Between six and seven o’clock this evening.”
“No later?”
“Not a minute after seven. I promise.”
“All right. But remember—no excuses. Your mother and I are going out to-night and I don’t want a phone call from you to say you’ve been detained somewhere.”
“Stop worrying. It’s bad for your blood-pressure.”
“That’s one thing I haven’t got … even with you around. Be careful, will you?”
She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. She said, “I’m always careful. You needn’t worry about your precious Rover: I’ll drive it as if it were my own.”
Haupmann said, “That’s what I’m afraid of. Now be off with you.”
She held out her hand to Piper and smiled at him as if they had known each other for a long time. She said, “Forgive me for breaking in like this, Mr. Piper. I hope we meet again soon.”
Her voice and her smile conveyed no more than the words themselves but he caught a look at the back of her eyes that stirred something inside him. He said, “I look forward to it, Miss Haupmann.”
“Then good-bye. See you this evening, Father.”
She was at the door when she said, “Oh, I had something to tell you. Mother’s resting in her room and she’d like you to call her about half past four. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t,” Haupmann said. “Good-bye, dear. Remember what I told you about not driving too fast.”
With an indulgent look on his big, plump face he stood looking at the door as it closed. Then he turned to Piper and said, “Now that you’ve seen my daughter wouldn’t you say she deserves everything I can give her?”
“She’s very beautiful,” Piper said. “There must be quite a few young men who’d like to take her from you.”
Haupmann’s expression changed. He said, “Too many perhaps. When a girl can pick and choose she sometimes chooses the wrong one. If ever we discuss it she tells me there’s no hurry.”
“She’ll find the right man one day.”
In a grumbling voice, Haupmann said, “According to my friends, I’m not the only father with this problem. Young people are different nowadays—very different.”
“Every generation says the same thing.”
“Ah, but it wasn’t quite so pronounced when I was a boy. We had a healthy fear of God—or of our parents. I think it comes to the same thing in the long run. At least, my generation had certain standards that still meant something to us even if we didn’t quite live up to them.”
“I’ve never had the task of bringing up children,” Piper said. “But the youngsters I meet seem all right.”
Haupmann said, “You’re only a young man yourself—well inside my daughter’s age-group.”
“Only if you stretch a point. There are quite a few years between us.”
“Not so many, I’d say. Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”
Piper said, “only a woman objects to disclosing her age. I’m thirty-five.”
In the same bland manner, Haupmann asked, “Are you married, Mr. Piper?”
His friendly tone and the look on his pleasant face gave Piper no cause to resent this personal turn to the conversation. Piper said, “No. I lost my wife some years ago.”
Haupmann made a face of polite regret. He said, “I’m sorry. It must have been a very terrible blow to you.” His voice was apologetic but there was no real sympathy in his eyes.
The events of that night were as vivid in Piper’s mind as if they had taken place only the day before. Yet, somehow, they had lost their old sting. Now he seemed to be standing outside himself and looking back on something that had happened to a man he had once known. Now there was no bitterness, no battering of his spirit against the brick wall of inevitability.
He said, “I didn’t believe I’d ever get over it. But the world goes on … and you know what they say about time being a great healer.”
“Yes, sooner or later we all learn that.” Once again a shadow had come over Haupmann’s face.
Like a man talking to himself, he murmured, “All of us nurse our own private sorrow. Where I come from, tragedy made a common bond between strangers. Since then we have taught ourselves to forget. It’s the only way to make life tolerable. …”
For a moment he stood staring at nothing, his eyes those of a man who could see ghosts in the failing light from the window. Then he roused himself.
He asked, “Have you ever thought of getting married again, Mr. Piper?”
“Not seriously. Once or twice I’ve toyed with the idea but, so far, nothing’s come of it.”
“You should give it serious consideration. Every man needs a woman.”
With a feeling that he was stepping outside the bounds of reality, Piper said, “So I’ve been told by every matchmaking woman I’ve met.”
Haupmann said, “It’s all very well for people to sneer at the matchmaker. Back home in the town where I was brought up, the marriages that turned out best were those that had been arranged. And what’s wrong with wishing to make two people happy?”
It was not the kind of question that required any answer. Piper said, “We seem to have drifted away from the subject of insurance. If you don’t mind——”
“I’m still talking about insurance,” Haupmann said. “It’s the insurance of someone who is very dear to me.”
He put his hands on his knees and leaned forward. In a careful voice, he went on, “Please don’t think I’m crazy … but how would you like to marry my daughter?”
To his own surprise Piper realised that he felt no embarrassment at the offer. There was an air of simplicity about Fritz Haupmann, an honesty which left no doubt that he meant what he was saying.
Piper said, “You must be crazy to suggest such a thing. Your daughter and I met for the first time only a few moments ago. Apart from my feelings on the matter, I can just imagine what she’d say if she heard us discussing her like this.”
Haupmann shrugged. He said, “Gizelle is not at all conventional. She would not mind.”
“Convention has nothing to do with it. The whole thing’s absurd.”
“Not quite so absurd as you might think. She likes you, Mr. Piper.”
“How on earth do you know that? She spoke to me for no more than a couple of minutes and so far as I can recall there wasn’t anything——”
“I could tell by the way she looked at you.”
“Now you’re talking nonsense. She was merely being sociable … just as any other charming young woman would’ve been in the circumstances.”
At the back of his mind Piper knew he was not even convincing himself. There had been something in her eyes, something that a woman kept for that certain moment in her life when she met the one person she had been waiting for.
A long-repressed emotion surged through him. He tried to tell himself that the idea was fantastic, that this was a dream from which he had to awaken before it was too late. Yet he knew all the time that he was fighting a losing battle.
This girl with the golden radiance could fill the emptiness in his life, give him a sense of purpose for the first time in many years—too many years. If it were really possible. …
Then he pushed the whole silly thought out of his head. Love at first sight existed only in the pages of a novelette. She would laugh if she knew what he had been thinking.
Haupmann said, “No, Mr. Piper. You’re wrong. I understand Gizelle. She was not just being polite.”
“Whatever her motives were,” Piper said, “you’re making too much out of them. I don’t flatter myself that a girl as beautiful as your daughter would give me a second look.”
“Oh, yes, she would. The young men she knows can’t give her what she’s been seeking, but you can. You are what she needs.”
“That’s ridiculous. Before I walked in here I was merely a name, someone who’d spoken to you on the telephone. What do you know about me?”
“Enough,” Haupmann said. “You’re different from my daughter’s friends. In you, she’d find security. All I ask is that you think about it.”
He made the request sound like a plea. For no reason that he could explain Piper felt a sense of pity for him. Haupmann, big and strong and self-confident, seemed almost pathetic.
Piper said, “I don’t pretend to understand, but you’re evidently quite serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life. I know it was fate that sent you here to-day. Are you a fatalist, Mr. Piper?”
His earnestness had a new intensity. It was the strange look on his smooth, plump face that revived Piper’s earlier suspicions.
“I don’t know,” Piper said. “Just as I don’t know how I come to be discussing marriage to your daughter. If you won’t mind my saying so, all this is taking one thing, at least, for granted.”
“What thing?”
“Why should you assume that I want to get married?”
A hurt look came into Haupmann’s eyes. He asked, “Do you mean that Gizelle isn’t the right kind of girl for you?”
“No, I don’t mean that. Anybody would be very lucky to be accepted by your daughter. I’m talking about the idea itself. What makes you think I want to marry again?”
“Because you’re a lonely man. When you told me you’d lost your wife, and then I saw the way Gizelle looked at you, I realised that you were the answer.”
“To what?”
“My fear of what might happen to her. You’re big and strong, Mr. Piper, and a man of resource.”
“So are you,” Piper said.
The absurdity of the situation defied logical argument. Haupmann’s earnestness was like a drug that changed fantasy into possibility. There was only one thing to do.
Piper closed his briefcase and stood up. He had done what he came to do and he would only cause offence if he stayed any longer.
Haupmann watched him sombrely, a look of defeat in his eyes. Haupmann said, “You disappoint me, Mr. Piper. I know you must be the man I was told about. It can’t be anyone else. In every way you fit the description. If only I could make you understand. …”
Piper said, “Look, Mr. Haupmann. I’m doing my best to understand, but you talk in riddles. Whose description do I fit?”
“The man I was to meet. Mrs. McAllister told me our paths would cross but I didn’t expect it would happen to-day. I was too concerned with”—his face drooped and he rubbed one hand in the other—“with the rest of it.”
“The rest of what? And who’s Mrs. McAllister?”
“She’s the medium at a spiritualist centre in Golder’s Green. I’ve been going there quite a lot in the past few months but this was only the second time she had a message for me.”
“Do you mean one of those so-called spirit messages?”
“Yes. Whether you believe it or not, we can communicate with people who have passed over to the other side.”
“Have you had proof of that?”
“Not until now—at least not personally—although I’ve had plenty of evidence through others who attend the Wednesday night services.”
Piper said, “This is quite out of my line. I’ve learned never to condemn anything I don’t understand, but you realise, I suppose, that quite a few of those who dabble in alleged psychic phenomena have been proved to be charlatans.”
“Quite a few parsons have been guilty of drunkenness or adultery,” Haupmann said. “But that does not mean there is no truth in the Scriptures. Some men and women possess a great gift—the power to communicate with those who live on in another dimension.”
He held out both hands. With a far-away look in his eyes, he went on, “I’ve seen wonderful things: new hope given to sufferers in despair, courage reborn in people who thought they had nothing to live for. You wouldn’t scoff if you had witnessed such things for yourself.”
“I’m not scoffing,” Piper said. “Whatever the explanation there’s nothing wrong in bringing hope and courage. Obviously, however, all it did for you was to make you afraid. Am I right?”
Fritz Haupmann took a long time to answer. Then he said, “Yes.” He looked as if he had been drained of all his energy.
“What did this medium tell you?”
“It wasn’t Mrs. McAllister. She merely passes on the message. It was her spirit guide.”
Piper said, “The technicalities of the seance or whatever you call it don’t matter. What I’m interested in is the information you received. Was it some kind of warning?”
There was open fear in Haupmann’s eyes. He said, “Yes.”
“Something’s going to happen to you?”
“Not just to me. Everything I hold dear is threatened.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t know. I was just told that danger hung over all my affairs …” His hands became agitated and he looked down at them.
“Any particular danger?”
“Mrs. McAllister’s spirit guide couldn’t say how or when it would happen but I must be on my guard all the time.”
“Against what?”
Haupmann said, “Something terrible. When Mrs. McAllister came out of her trance she said she could still feel the atmosphere of evil that had been all around her. She was very distressed. I’ve never seen her like that before.”
“How many other people were present that night?”
“Between forty and fifty, I’d say.”
“Did they all receive spirit messages?”
“Oh, no. Clairaudience puts a big strain on the medium and she can’t remain in a trance for very long. At an average session no more than five or six people hear from their departed dear ones through Mrs. McAllister.”
“On that night was anybody else given the kind of message that you received?”
Haupmann shook his head. At the back of his eyes something overlaid the fear that never left him.
“What were they told?”
“Just the usual things. News of a relative or friend who’d recently passed over. A woman sitting near me learned that her troubles would soon be at an end. A man I know slightly, who has been worried because he has to go into hospital, was advised to have the operation because he’d soon be well again.”
Piper said, “So everybody got an encouraging message—except you.”
“Yes.”
“How well do you know this Mrs. McAllister?”
“Only through going to the Wednesday evening open circle. I was introduced to her some months ago, but I don’t think we’ve spoken to each other since then.”
“You say you’ve had previous spirit messages?”
“Only once. My mother spoke to me.”
“Do you mean she communicated with you through Mrs. McAllister?”
“In a sense—yes.”
“Why do you say ’ in a sense ’?”
“Well, although she spoke through Mrs. McAllister it was my mother’s voice I heard.”
“Did she speak to you in English?”
As if surprised at the question, Haupmann said, “No, of course not. She only knew one language while she was on this earthly plane and that was Austrian.”
“Are you saying that it was actually your mother’s voice you heard coming from Mrs. McAllister’s mouth?”
“Yes, Mr. Piper, that is indeed what I am saying. There is no doubt at all. I couldn’t possibly have been deceived.”
Piper said, “That’s a matter of opinion. However, if your faith in these things brought you happiness I wouldn’t try to shake it, but you’re worried and frightened. Don’t you think you would be well advised to forget all this and stop going to these spiritualist meetings?”
“I couldn’t do that.”
“If you don’t, your health is going to suffer.”
Haupmann rubbed the back of his neck with both hands. Then he looked up and said, “You mean, of course, my mental health. It was foolish of me to expect you to see that this isn’t just something in my imagination. It’s real, Mr. Piper, as real as you are.”
“Perhaps it is to you. We won’t get anywhere if we start arguing about the nature of reality. You’ll go on believing what you want to believe. Do your wife and daughter know about this warning from the spirit world?”
A withdrawn look came into Haupmann’s eyes. He said, “No, I haven’t told them. I saw no need for them to be worried when …” His voice tailed off and he hunched his shoulders in another shrug.
“—when it might never happen,” Piper said. “I deal with matters of fact, Mr. Haupmann, so I’ll arrange for someone to bring you that proposal form. I’ll also survey your factory. Why you want to increase the value of your two policies is your own business—not the company’s.”
Haupmann said, “Thank you. I would not have talked to you like this if I had not known you would respect my confidences.”
He got up and held out his hand. He said, “Will you not think about what I asked you?”
“There’s nothing to think about. When I’ve made a check of your premises I don’t suppose either you or your daughter will ever see me again.”
The sadness in Haupmann’s eyes lifted momentarily. He was smiling as he said, “I know that is not so. Mrs. McAllister’s guide told me I would get help from a man whom I’d meet quite by chance. And to-day”—he spread out his hands—“you walk into my home.”
Piper said, “The only help I can give you is in connection with your insurance matters. What you suggest in that other direction is absolutely ridiculous. Your daughter would be furious if she knew that I even considered such a——”
“But she will not know—unless you tell her. It can be our secret that we need never talk about again. Won’t you agree to give it just a little thought?”
“No. I’m sorry, but I must refuse. I came here to discuss insurance—not marriage. With all due respect, you’ll drive yourself crazy if you let this spiritualist mumbo-jumbo prey on your mind.”
Fritz Haupmann turned and stared down into the glowing fire. In a flat voice, he said, “You won’t call it mumbo-jumbo when something happens to me.”
Piper said, “Whatever happens to you will be of your own making. Good-bye, Mr. Haupmann. I’ll call at the factory on Monday. Will you arrange for somebody to show me round?”
“Yes, of course.”
He accompanied Piper to the front door and shook hands again. With a look of submission in his eyes, he said, “It was wrong of me to burden you with my troubles. Please do not let it worry you.”
“I’d like to persuade you not to worry. In a couple of weeks your factory will be closed for the Christmas holidays. Why don’t you go away and have a real break?”
Haupmann looked doubtful. He said, “Perhaps I will … although it will not make any difference.”
“A change of surroundings and a rest from business always makes a difference. It would also do you good to stay away from those spiritualist meetings for a while.”
“Hiding from the truth can never do any good. That applies to you as well. The day will come when you’ll see that none of us can escape what is ordained for us. For Gizelle’s sake I hope you see it in time. …”
When Piper reached the gate and looked back, Haupmann was still standing at the open door. It might have been a trick of light, it might even have been Piper’s imagination, but what he saw sent a cold feeling through him. There was death in Fritz Haupmann’s face.