(SA) Midday At Westminster

Adventure! Story by Dorothy Bennett is entitled, Midday at Westminster.

We had the compartment to ourselves, Holland and I, save for one other occupant.

It was the middle of autumn, and as cold as only a wet English autumn can be. The man sitting opposite us was blue about the lips, and he had a disconcertingly fixed stare. His eyes never seemed to waver from my face Holland noticed nothing. He was reading I Didn't like the look of the stranger

No, I didn't like the look of him at all we'd been about half an hour on our journey from London When he suddenly lurched forward and clawed at the air Lucas What's wrong? Holly give me a hand What the...

Some sort of attack, I think. Let's get him on the seat. Easy, doesn't it? Stop walking. What's the mistake?

What's going on? Don't stop questioning him now. Shut up, Holly. What's going on?

What's going on? In what house? He died in his throat. He collapsed against Holly and me. We laid him down as tightly as we could. He was no mean weight. He was dead. Blighter.

I suppose if you're thinking along artificial respiration lines, forget it. We'd better stop the train, hadn't we? I'll all find the conductor. I mean, oh, I mean, we'll have to pull the damn core to get him.

No car order. You know, I've always followed him. Did you hear what he said? Yes, I heard, but... If there's a bomb set to go off somewhere. Alan, he was wondering. Was he? He must have been.

They must. Might that not have been a dying confession and attempt to redeem himself before he dies? People say some predict where things when they're dying. They also tell the truth. Violence, he said. Violence achieves nothing.