The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie (read e book .txt) đ
- Author: Agatha Christie
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The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie
TO ALL THOSE WHO LEAD
MONOTONOUS LIVES
IN THE HOPE THAT THEY MAY EXPERIENCE
AT SECOND HAND
THE DELIGHTS AND DANGERS OF
ADVENTURE
It was 2 p.m. on the afternoon of May 7, 1915. The Lusitania had been struck by two torpedoes in succession and was sinking rapidly, while the boats were being launched with all possible speed. The women and children were being lined up awaiting their turn. Some still clung desperately to husbands and fathers; others clutched their children closely to their breasts. One girl stood alone, slightly apart from the rest. She was quite young, not more than eighteen. She did not seem afraid, and her grave, steadfast eyes looked straight ahead.
âI beg your pardon.â
A manâs voice beside her made her start and turn. She had noticed the speaker more than once amongst the first-class passengers. There had been a hint of mystery about him which had appealed to her imagination. He spoke to no one. If anyone spoke to him he was quick to rebuff the overture. Also he had a nervous way of looking over his shoulder with a swift, suspicious glance.
She noticed now that he was greatly agitated. There were beads of perspiration on his brow. He was evidently in a state of overmastering fear. And yet he did not strike her as the kind of man who would be afraid to meet death!
âYes?â Her grave eyes met his inquiringly.
He stood looking at her with a kind of desperate irresolution.
âIt must be!â he muttered to himself. âYesâit is the only way.â Then aloud he said abruptly: âYou are an American?â
âYes.â
âA patriotic one?â
The girl flushed.
âI guess youâve no right to ask such a thing! Of course I am!â
âDonât be offended. You wouldnât be if you knew how much there was at stake. But Iâve got to trust some oneâand it must be a woman.â
âWhy?â
âBecause of âwomen and children first.ââ He looked round and lowered his voice. âIâm carrying papersâvitally important papers. They may make all the difference to the Allies in the war. You understand? These papers have got to be saved! Theyâve more chance with you than with me. Will you take them?â
The girl held out her hand.
âWaitâI must warn you. There may be a riskâif Iâve been followed. I donât think I have, but one never knows. If so, there will be danger. Have you the nerve to go through with it?â
The girl smiled.
âIâll go through with it all right. And Iâm real proud to be chosen! What am I to do with them afterwards?â
âWatch the newspapers! Iâll advertise in the personal column of the Times, beginning âShipmate.â At the end of three days if thereâs nothingâwell, youâll know Iâm down and out. Then take the packet to the American Embassy, and deliver it into the Ambassadorâs own hands. Is that clear?â
âQuite clear.â
âThen be readyâIâm going to say good-bye.â He took her hand in his. âGood-bye. Good luck to you,â he said in a louder tone.
Her hand closed on the oilskin packet that had lain in his palm.
The Lusitania settled with a more decided list to starboard. In answer to a quick command, the girl went forward to take her place in the boat.
THE YOUNG ADVENTURERS, LTD.
âTommy, old thing!â
âTuppence, old bean!â
The two young people greeted each other affectionately, and momentarily blocked the Dover Street Tube exit in doing so. The adjective âoldâ was misleading. Their united ages would certainly not have totalled forty-five.
âNot seen you for simply centuries,â continued the young man. âWhere are you off to? Come and chew a bun with me. Weâre getting a bit unpopular hereâblocking the gangway as it were. Letâs get out of it.â
The girl assenting, they started walking down Dover Street towards Piccadilly.
âNow then,â said Tommy, âwhere shall we go?â
The very faint anxiety which underlay his tone did not escape the astute ears of Miss Prudence Cowley, known to her intimate friends for some mysterious reason as âTuppence.â She pounced at once.
âTommy, youâre stony!â
âNot a bit of it,â declared Tommy unconvincingly. âRolling in cash.â
âYou always were a shocking liar,â said Tuppence severely, âthough you did once persuade Sister Greenbank that the doctor had ordered you beer as a tonic, but forgotten to write it on the chart. Do you remember?â
Tommy chuckled.
âI should think I did! Wasnât the old cat in a rage when she found out? Not that she was a bad sort really, old Mother Greenbank! Good old hospitalâdemobbed like everything else, I suppose?â
Tuppence sighed.
âYes. You too?â
Tommy nodded.
âTwo months ago.â
âGratuity?â hinted Tuppence.
âSpent.â
âOh, Tommy!â
âNo, old thing, not in riotous dissipation. No such luck! The cost of livingâordinary plain, or garden living nowadays is, I assure you, if you do not knowâââ
âMy dear child,â interrupted Tuppence, âthere is nothing I do not know about the cost of living. Here we are at Lyonsâ, and we will each of us pay for our own. Thatâs it!â And Tuppence led the way upstairs.
The place was full, and they wandered about looking for a table, catching odds and ends of conversation as they did so.
âAndâdo you know, she sat down and cried when I told her she couldnât have the flat after all.â âIt was simply a bargain, my dear! Just like the one Mabel Lewis brought from Parisâââ
âFunny scraps one does overhear,â murmured Tommy. âI passed two Johnnies in the street to-day talking about some one called Jane Finn. Did you ever hear such a name?â
But at that moment two elderly ladies rose and collected parcels, and Tuppence deftly ensconced herself in one of the vacant seats.
Tommy ordered tea and buns. Tuppence ordered tea and buttered toast.
âAnd mind the tea comes in separate teapots,â she added severely.
Tommy sat down opposite her. His bared head revealed a shock of exquisitely slicked-back red hair. His face was pleasantly uglyânondescript, yet unmistakably the face of a gentleman and a sportsman. His brown suit was well cut, but perilously near the end of its tether.
They were an essentially modern-looking couple as they sat there. Tuppence had no claim to beauty, but there was character and charm in the elfin lines of her little face, with its determined chin and large, wide-apart grey eyes that looked mistily out from under straight, black brows. She wore a small bright green toque over her black bobbed hair, and her extremely short and rather shabby skirt revealed a pair of uncommonly dainty ankles. Her appearance presented a valiant attempt at smartness.
The tea came at last, and Tuppence, rousing herself from a fit of meditation, poured it out.
âNow then,â said Tommy, taking a large bite of bun, âletâs get up-to-date. Remember, I havenât seen you since that time in hospital in 1916.â
âVery well.â Tuppence helped herself liberally to buttered toast. âAbridged biography of Miss Prudence Cowley, fifth daughter of Archdeacon Cowley of Little Missendell, Suffolk. Miss Cowley left the delights (and drudgeries) of her home life early in the war and came up to London, where she entered an officersâ hospital. First month: Washed up six hundred and forty-eight plates every day. Second month: Promoted to drying aforesaid plates. Third month: Promoted to peeling potatoes. Fourth month: Promoted to cutting bread and butter. Fifth month: Promoted one floor up to duties of wardmaid with mop and pail. Sixth month: Promoted to waiting at table. Seventh month: Pleasing appearance and nice manners so striking that am promoted to waiting on the Sisters! Eighth month: Slight check in career. Sister Bond ate Sister Westhavenâs egg! Grand row! Wardmaid clearly to blame! Inattention in such important matters cannot be too highly censured. Mop and pail again! How are the mighty fallen! Ninth month: Promoted to sweeping out wards, where I found a friend of my childhood in Lieutenant Thomas Beresford (bow, Tommy!), whom I had not seen for five long years. The meeting was affecting! Tenth month: Reproved by matron for visiting the pictures in company with one of the patients, namely: the aforementioned Lieutenant Thomas Beresford. Eleventh and twelfth months: Parlourmaid duties resumed with entire success. At the end of the year left hospital in a blaze of glory. After that, the talented Miss Cowley drove successively a trade delivery van, a motor-lorry and a general! The last was the pleasantest. He was quite a young general!â
âWhat blighter was that?â inquired Tommy. âPerfectly sickening the way those brass hats drove from the War Office to the Savoy, and from the Savoy to the War Office!â
âIâve forgotten his name now,â confessed Tuppence. âTo resume, that was in a way the apex of my career. I next entered a Government office. We had several very enjoyable tea parties. I had intended to become a land girl, a postwoman, and a bus conductress by way of rounding off my careerâbut the Armistice intervened! I clung to the office with the true limpet touch for many long months, but, alas, I was combed out at last. Since then Iâve been looking for a job. Now thenâyour turn.â
âThereâs not so much promotion in mine,â said Tommy regretfully, âand a great deal less variety. I went out to France again, as you know. Then they sent me to Mesopotamia, and I got wounded for the second time, and went into hospital out there. Then I got stuck in Egypt till the Armistice happened, kicked my heels there some time longer, and, as I told you, finally got demobbed. And, for ten long, weary months Iâve been job hunting! There arenât any jobs! And, if there were, they wouldnât give âem to me. What good am I? What do I know about business? Nothing.â
Tuppence nodded gloomily.
âWhat about the colonies?â she suggested.
Tommy shook his head.
âI shouldnât like the coloniesâand Iâm perfectly certain they wouldnât like me!â
âRich relations?â
Again Tommy shook his head.
âOh, Tommy, not even a great-aunt?â
âIâve got an old uncle whoâs more or less rolling, but heâs no good.â
âWhy not?â
âWanted to adopt me once. I refused.â
âI think I remember hearing about it,â said Tuppence slowly. âYou refused because of your motherâââ
Tommy flushed.
âYes, it would have been a bit rough on the mater. As you know, I was all she had. Old boy hated herâwanted to get me away from her. Just a bit of spite.â
âYour motherâs dead, isnât she?â said Tuppence gently.
Tommy nodded.
Tuppenceâs large grey eyes looked misty.
âYouâre a good sort, Tommy. I always knew it.â
âRot!â said Tommy hastily. âWell, thatâs my position. Iâm just about desperate.â
âSo am I! Iâve hung out as long as I could. Iâve touted round. Iâve answered advertisements. Iâve tried every mortal blessed thing. Iâve screwed and saved and pinched! But itâs no good. I shall have to go home!â
âDonât you want to?â
âOf course I donât want to! Whatâs the good of being sentimental? Fatherâs a dearâIâm awfully fond of himâbut youâve no idea how I worry him! He has that delightful early Victorian view that short skirts and smoking are immoral. You can imagine what a thorn in the flesh I am to him! He just heaved a sigh of relief when the war took me off. You see, there are seven of us at home. Itâs awful! All housework and mothersâ meetings! I have always been the changeling. I donât want to go back, butâoh, Tommy, what else is there to do?â
Tommy shook his head sadly. There was a silence, and then Tuppence burst out:
âMoney, money, money! I think about money morning, noon and night! I dare say itâs mercenary of me, but there it is!â
âSame here,â agreed Tommy with feeling.
âIâve thought over every imaginable way of getting it too,â continued Tuppence. âThere are only three! To be left it, to marry it, or to make it. First is ruled out. I havenât got any rich elderly relatives. Any relatives I have
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