The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie (read e book .txt) đ
- Author: Agatha Christie
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But, listen as she might, the conversation presented no clue. Boris and Mrs. Vandemeyer talked on purely indifferent subjects: plays they had seen, new dances, and the latest society gossip. After dinner they repaired to the small boudoir where Mrs. Vandemeyer, stretched on the divan, looked more wickedly beautiful than ever. Tuppence brought in the coffee and liqueurs and unwillingly retired. As she did so, she heard Boris say:
âNew, isnât she?â
âShe came in to-day. The other was a fiend. This girl seems all right. She waits well.â
Tuppence lingered a moment longer by the door which she had carefully neglected to close, and heard him say:
âQuite safe, I suppose?â
âReally, Boris, you are absurdly suspicious. I believe sheâs the cousin of the hall porter, or something of the kind. And nobody even dreams that I have any connection with ourâmutual friend, Mr. Brown.â
âFor heavenâs sake, be careful, Rita. That door isnât shut.â
âWell, shut it then,â laughed the woman.
Tuppence removed herself speedily.
She dared not absent herself longer from the back premises, but she cleared away and washed up with a breathless speed acquired in hospital. Then she slipped quietly back to the boudoir door. The cook, more leisurely, was still busy in the kitchen and, if she missed the other, would only suppose her to be turning down the beds.
Alas! The conversation inside was being carried on in too low a tone to permit of her hearing anything of it. She dared not reopen the door, however gently. Mrs. Vandemeyer was sitting almost facing it, and Tuppence respected her mistressâs lynx-eyed powers of observation.
Nevertheless, she felt she would give a good deal to overhear what was going on. Possibly, if anything unforeseen had happened, she might get news of Tommy. For some moments she reflected desperately, then her face brightened. She went quickly along the passage to Mrs. Vandemeyerâs bedroom, which had long French windows leading on to a balcony that ran the length of the flat. Slipping quickly through the window, Tuppence crept noiselessly along till she reached the boudoir window. As she had thought it stood a little ajar, and the voices within were plainly audible.
Tuppence listened attentively, but there was no mention of anything that could be twisted to apply to Tommy. Mrs. Vandemeyer and the Russian seemed to be at variance over some matter, and finally the latter exclaimed bitterly:
âWith your persistent recklessness, you will end by ruining us!â
âBah!â laughed the woman. âNotoriety of the right kind is the best way of disarming suspicion. You will realize that one of these daysâperhaps sooner than you think!â
âIn the meantime, you are going about everywhere with Peel Edgerton. Not only is he, perhaps, the most celebrated K.C. in England, but his special hobby is criminology! It is madness!â
âI know that his eloquence has saved untold men from the gallows,â said Mrs. Vandemeyer calmly. âWhat of it? I may need his assistance in that line myself some day. If so, how fortunate to have such a friend at courtâor perhaps it would be more to the point to say in court.â
Boris got up and began striding up and down. He was very excited.
âYou are a clever woman, Rita; but you are also a fool! Be guided by me, and give up Peel Edgerton.â
Mrs. Vandemeyer shook her head gently.
âI think not.â
âYou refuse?â There was an ugly ring in the Russianâs voice.
âI do.â
âThen, by Heaven,â snarled the Russian, âwe will seeâââ
But Mrs. Vandemeyer also rose to her feet, her eyes flashing.
âYou forget, Boris,â she said. âI am accountable to no one. I take my orders only fromâMr. Brown.â
The other threw up his hands in despair.
âYou are impossible,â he muttered. âImpossible! Already it may be too late. They say Peel Edgerton can smell a criminal! How do we know what is at the bottom of his sudden interest in you? Perhaps even now his suspicions are aroused. He guessesâââ
Mrs. Vandemeyer eyed him scornfully.
âReassure yourself, my dear Boris. He suspects nothing. With less than your usual chivalry, you seem to forget that I am commonly accounted a beautiful woman. I assure you that is all that interests Peel Edgerton.â
Boris shook his head doubtfully.
âHe has studied crime as no other man in this kingdom has studied it. Do you fancy that you can deceive him?â
Mrs. Vandemeyerâs eyes narrowed.
âIf he is all that you sayâit would amuse me to try!â
âGood heavens, Ritaâââ
âBesides,â added Mrs. Vandemeyer, âhe is extremely rich. I am not one who despises money. The âsinews of war,â you know, Boris!â
âMoneyâmoney! That is always the danger with you, Rita. I believe you would sell your soul for money. I believeâââ He paused, then in a low, sinister voice he said slowly: âSometimes I believe that you would sellâ us!â
Mrs. Vandemeyer smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
âThe price, at any rate, would have to be enormous,â she said lightly. âIt would be beyond the power of anyone but a millionaire to pay.â
âAh!â snarled the Russian. âYou see, I was right!â
âMy dear Boris, can you not take a joke?â
âWas it a joke?â
âOf course.â
âThen all I can say is that your ideas of humour are peculiar, my dear Rita.â
Mrs. Vandemeyer smiled.
âLet us not quarrel, Boris. Touch the bell. We will have some drinks.â
Tuppence beat a hasty retreat. She paused a moment to survey herself in Mrs. Vandemeyerâs long glass, and be sure that nothing was amiss with her appearance. Then she answered the bell demurely.
The conversation that she had overheard, although interesting in that it proved beyond doubt the complicity of both Rita and Boris, threw very little light on the present preoccupations. The name of Jane Finn had not even been mentioned.
The following morning a few brief words with Albert informed her that nothing was waiting for her at the stationerâs. It seemed incredible that Tommy, if all was well with him, should not send any word to her. A cold hand seemed to close round her heart.... Supposing.... She choked her fears down bravely. It was no good worrying. But she leapt at a chance offered her by Mrs. Vandemeyer.
âWhat day do you usually go out, Prudence?â
âFridayâs my usual day, maâam.â
Mrs. Vandemeyer lifted her eyebrows.
âAnd to-day is Friday! But I suppose you hardly wish to go out to-day, as you only came yesterday.â
âI was thinking of asking you if I might, maâam.â
Mrs. Vandemeyer looked at her a minute longer, and then smiled.
âI wish Count Stepanov could hear you. He made a suggestion about you last night.â Her smile broadened, catlike. âYour request is veryâtypical. I am satisfied. You do not understand all thisâbut you can go out to-day. It makes no difference to me, as I shall not be dining at home.â
âThank you, maâam.â
Tuppence felt a sensation of relief once she was out of the otherâs presence. Once again she admitted to herself that she was afraid, horribly afraid, of the beautiful woman with the cruel eyes.
In the midst of a final desultory polishing of her silver, Tuppence was disturbed by the ringing of the front door bell, and went to answer it. This time the visitor was neither Whittington nor Boris, but a man of striking appearance.
Just a shade over average height, he nevertheless conveyed the impression of a big man. His face, clean-shaven and exquisitely mobile, was stamped with an expression of power and force far beyond the ordinary. Magnetism seemed to radiate from him.
Tuppence was undecided for the moment whether to put him down as an actor or a lawyer, but her doubts were soon solved as he gave her his name: Sir James Peel Edgerton.
She looked at him with renewed interest. This, then, was the famous K.C. whose name was familiar all over England. She had heard it said that he might one day be Prime Minister. He was known to have refused office in the interests of his profession, preferring to remain a simple Member for a Scotch constituency.
Tuppence went back to her pantry thoughtfully. The great man had impressed her. She understood Borisâs agitation. Peel Edgerton would not be an easy man to deceive.
In about a quarter of an hour the bell rang, and Tuppence repaired to the hall to show the visitor out. He had given her a piercing glance before. Now, as she handed him his hat and stick, she was conscious of his eyes raking her through. As she opened the door and stood aside to let him pass out, he stopped in the doorway.
âNot been doing this long, eh?â
Tuppence raised her eyes, astonished. She read in his glance kindliness, and something else more difficult to fathom.
He nodded as though she had answered.
âV.A.D. and hard up, I suppose?â
âDid Mrs. Vandemeyer tell you that?â asked Tuppence suspiciously.
âNo, child. The look of you told me. Good place here?â
âVery good, thank you, sir.â
âAh, but there are plenty of good places nowadays. And a change does no harm sometimes.â
âDo you meanââ?â began Tuppence.
But Sir James was already on the topmost stair. He looked back with his kindly, shrewd glance.
âJust a hint,â he said. âThatâs all.â
Tuppence went back to the pantry more thoughtful than ever.
JULIUS TELLS A STORY
Dressed appropriately, Tuppence duly sallied forth for her âafternoon out.â Albert was in temporary abeyance, but Tuppence went herself to the stationerâs to make quite sure that nothing had come for her. Satisfied on this point, she made her way to the Ritz. On inquiry she learnt that Tommy had not yet returned. It was the answer she had expected, but it was another nail in the coffin of her hopes. She resolved to appeal to Mr. Carter, telling him when and where Tommy had started on his quest, and asking him to do something to trace him. The prospect of his aid revived her mercurial spirits, and she next inquired for Julius Hersheimmer. The reply she got was to the effect that he had returned about half an hour ago, but had gone out immediately.
Tuppenceâs spirits revived still more. It would be something to see Julius. Perhaps he could devise some plan for finding out what had become of Tommy. She wrote her note to Mr. Carter in Juliusâs sitting-room, and was just addressing the envelope when the door burst open.
âWhat the hellâââ began Julius, but checked himself abruptly. âI beg your pardon, Miss Tuppence. Those fools down at the office would have it that Beresford wasnât here any longerâhadnât been here since Wednesday. Is that so?â
Tuppence nodded.
âYou donât know where he is?â she asked faintly.
âI? How should I know? I havenât had one darned word from him, though I wired him yesterday morning.â
âI expect your wireâs at the office unopened.â
âBut where is he?â
âI donât know. I hoped you might.â
âI tell you I havenât had one darned word from him since we parted at the depot on Wednesday.â
âWhat depot?â
âWaterloo. Your London and South Western road.â
âWaterloo?â frowned Tuppence.
âWhy, yes. Didnât he tell you?â
âI havenât seen him either,â replied Tuppence impatiently. âGo on about Waterloo. What were you doing there?â
âHe gave me a call. Over the phone. Told me to get a move on, and hustle. Said he was trailing two crooks.â
âOh!â said Tuppence, her eyes opening. âI see. Go on.â
âI hurried along right away. Beresford was there. He pointed out the crooks. The big one was mine, the guy you bluffed. Tommy shoved a ticket into my hand and told me to get aboard the cars. He was going to sleuth the other crook.â Julius paused. âI thought for sure youâd know all this.â
âJulius,â said Tuppence firmly, âstop walking up and down. It makes me giddy. Sit down in that armchair, and tell me the whole story with as few fancy turns of speech as possible.â
Mr. Hersheimmer obeyed.
âSure,â he said. âWhere shall I begin?â
âWhere you left off. At Waterloo.â
âWell,â began Julius, âI got into one of your dear old-fashioned first-class British compartments. The train was just off. First thing I knew a guard came along and informed me mighty politely that I wasnât in a smoking-carriage. I handed him out half a dollar, and that settled that. I did a bit of prospecting along the corridor to the next coach. Whittington was there right enough. When I saw the skunk, with his big sleek fat face, and thought of poor little Jane in his clutches, I felt real mad that I hadnât got a gun with me. Iâd have tickled him up some.
âWe got to Bournemouth all right. Whittington took a cab and gave the name of an hotel. I did likewise, and we drove up within three minutes of each other. He hired
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