Trial and Error Read Free

better man if you did accept some of them, Lionel,” retorted the parson amiably.
    â€œI doubt it. But of course you have to say so.”
    â€œYes,” said Mr Todhunter. “Then what it all amounts to is that the man with only a few months to live can’t do anything better than commit a murder, of the type defined. You really believe that?”
    â€œI’m not going to run away from a nasty word,” Ferrers smiled. “Whether you call it murder or elimination, that’s what I believe.”
    â€œA man in such a position would be well placed to commit a righteous murder, wouldn’t he?” hazarded Mr Chitterwick. “I mean, if he timed it properly there would be no fear of the strongest practical argument against murder—the hangman.”
    â€œYes, that is perfectly true,” said Mr Todhunter with interest. “But if we decide on murder, what kind of murder is he to commit? Two of you seemed to be in favour of a political murder, with the idea of benefiting the whole world, or at any rate a whole nation, and two preferred the private murder. It would be interesting to hear the arguments on either side.”
    â€œOh, I withdraw Mussolini,” Major Barrington offered. “I didn’t make the suggestion very seriously. Besides, it’s more than I’d care to do, to take the responsibility of deciding whether a Mussolini or a Hitler doesn’t fulfill some need in the world today, if only on the principle that things have got to be worse before they can be bettered. In other words, like Ferrers, I don’t believe in political assassination.”
    â€œAnd you, Dale?”
    â€œWell, if the major withdraws Mussolini I’ll withdraw my candidate. Though I must say I’d like to see every dishonest politician in this country shot.”
    â€œWould there be any left?” smiled Ferrers.
    â€œOh, come now,” protested the clergyman. “There’d be Stanley Baldwin.”
    â€œAnd his pipe.”
    â€œOf peace, yes.”
    â€œPeace at any price—even fifteen hundred million pounds. Yes, and his pigs. Well, they’d be useful to fill up the vacancies in the cabinet. We should never notice the difference.”
    â€œOh yes, we should,” grinned the major. “Pigs wouldn’t sign outrageous agreements with French prime ministers and let us down with a thud all over the world and then have to be publicly disowned. Pigs would have their uses.”
    â€œYes,” said Mr Todhunter. “Then the idea now seems to be that the private murder is to be preferred to the political assassination. Well, it would be interesting to hear what kind of private person would confer most benefits on his fellow creatures by dying.”
    â€œA newspaper proprietor who deliberately deceives his readers to further his own ends,” suggested the major.
    â€œWouldn’t that mean all newspaper proprietors?” asked Mr Chitterwick with unwonted cynicism.
    Ferrers looked pained.
    â€œOh, we’ll except the London Review of course,” the clergyman told him. “We all know that the London Review stands alone in the newspaper world. Lionel wouldn’t be working for it otherwise.”
    â€œThe London Review isn’t a newspaper,” Ferrers pointed out.
    â€œWell, my vote would be for a really vindictive anonymous letter writer,” said Dale. “No one does more harm, and no one is more difficult to bring to justice.”
    â€œExcept a blackmailer, don’t you think?” supplied Mr Chitterwick.
    â€œWell, you ought to know something about murder, Chitterwick,” Ferrers said. “Two, isn’t it, that you’ve been mixed up in?”
    â€œWell, yes, I suppose so, in a way,” agreed Mr Chitterwick uneasily. “But. . .”
    â€ “No, no. All in confidence. Between friends and so on. Guaranteed not for publication. Come on.”
    Protesting, Mr Chitterwick