The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie (top e book reader .TXT) đ
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- Author: Agatha Christie
- Performer: 0451201205
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âWhichever way you decide, good luck to you.
âYour sincere friend,
âMR. CARTER.â
Tuppenceâs spirits rose mercurially. Mr. Carterâs warnings passed unheeded. The young lady had far too much confidence in herself to pay any heed to them.
With some reluctance she abandoned the interesting part she had sketched out for herself. Although she had no doubts of her own powers to sustain a role indefinitely, she had too much common sense not to recognize the force of Mr. Carterâs arguments.
There was still no word or message from Tommy, but the morning post brought a somewhat dirty postcard with the words: âItâs O.K.â scrawled upon it.
At ten-thirty Tuppence surveyed with pride a slightly battered tin trunk containing her new possessions. It was artistically corded. It was with a slight blush that she rang the bell and ordered it to be placed in a taxi. She drove to Paddington, and left the box in the cloak room. She then repaired with a handbag to the fastnesses of the ladiesâ waiting-room. Ten minutes later a metamorphosed Tuppence walked demurely out of the station and entered a bus.
It was a few minutes past eleven when Tuppence again entered the hall of South Audley Mansions. Albert was on the look-out, attending to his duties in a somewhat desultory fashion. He did not immediately recognize Tuppence. When he did, his admiration was unbounded.
âBlest if Iâd have known you! That rig-outâs top-hole.â
âGlad you like it, Albert,â replied Tuppence modestly. âBy the way, am I your cousin, or am I not?â
âYour voice too,â cried the delighted boy. âItâs as English as anything! No, I said as a friend of mine knew a young gal. Annie wasnât best pleased. Sheâs stopped on till to-dayâto oblige, she said, but really itâs so as to put you against the place.â
âNice girl,â said Tuppence.
Albert suspected no irony.
âSheâs style about her, and keeps her silver a treatâbut, my word, ainât she got a temper. Are you going up now, miss? Step inside the lift. No. 20 did you say?â And he winked.
Tuppence quelled him with a stern glance, and stepped inside.
As she rang the bell of No. 20 she was conscious of Albertâs eyes slowly descending beneath the level of the floor.
A smart young woman opened the door.
âIâve come about the place,â said Tuppence.
âItâs a rotten place,â said the young woman without hesitation. âRegular old catâalways interfering. Accused me of tampering with her letters. Me! The flap was half undone anyway. Thereâs never anything in the waste-paper basketâshe burns everything. Sheâs a wrong âun, thatâs what she is. Swell clothes, but no class. Cook knows something about herâbut she wonât tellâscared to death of her. And suspicious! Sheâs on to you in a minute if you as much as speak to a fellow. I can tell youâââ
But what more Annie could tell, Tuppence was never destined to learn, for at that moment a clear voice with a peculiarly steely ring to it called:
âAnnie!â
The smart young woman jumped as if she had been shot.
âYes, maâam.â
âWho are you talking to?â
âItâs a young woman about the situation, maâam.â
âShow her in then. At once.â
âYes, maâam.â
Tuppence was ushered into a room on the right of the long passage. A woman was standing by the fireplace. She was no longer in her first youth, and the beauty she undeniably possessed was hardened and coarsened. In her youth she must have been dazzling. Her pale gold hair, owing a slight assistance to art, was coiled low on her neck, her eyes, of a piercing electric blue, seemed to possess a faculty of boring into the very soul of the person she was looking at. Her exquisite figure was enhanced by a wonderful gown of indigo charmeuse. And yet, despite her swaying grace, and the almost ethereal beauty of her face, you felt instinctively the presence of something hard and menacing, a kind of metallic strength that found expression in the tones of her voice and in that gimlet-like quality of her eyes.
For the first time Tuppence felt afraid. She had not feared Whittington, but this woman was different. As if fascinated, she watched the long cruel line of the red curving mouth, and again she felt that sensation of panic pass over her. Her usual self-confidence deserted her. Vaguely she felt that deceiving this woman would be very different to deceiving Whittington. Mr. Carterâs warning recurred to her mind. Here, indeed, she might expect no mercy.
Fighting down that instinct of panic which urged her to turn tail and run without further delay, Tuppence returned the ladyâs gaze firmly and respectfully.
As though that first scrutiny had been satisfactory, Mrs. Vandemeyer motioned to a chair.
âYou can sit down. How did you hear I wanted a house-parlourmaid?â
âThrough a friend who knows the lift boy here. He thought the place might suit me.â
Again that basilisk glance seemed to pierce her through.
âYou speak like an educated girl?â
Glibly enough, Tuppence ran through her imaginary career on the lines suggested by Mr. Carter. It seemed to her, as she did so, that the tension of Mrs. Vandemeyerâs attitude relaxed.
âI see,â she remarked at length. âIs there anyone I can write to for a reference?â
âI lived last with a Miss Dufferin, The Parsonage, Llanelly. I was with her two years.â
âAnd then you thought you would get more money by coming to London, I suppose? Well, it doesnât matter to me. I will give you ÂŁ50âÂŁ60âwhatever you want. You can come in at once?â
âYes, maâam. To-day, if you like. My box is at Paddington.â
âGo and fetch it in a taxi, then. Itâs an easy place. I am out a good deal. By the way, whatâs your name?â
âPrudence Cooper, maâam.â
âVery well, Prudence. Go away and fetch your box. I shall be out to lunch. The cook will show you where everything is.â
âThank you, maâam.â
Tuppence withdrew. The smart Annie was not in evidence. In the hall below a magnificent hall porter had relegated Albert to the background. Tuppence did not even glance at him as she passed meekly out.
The adventure had begun, but she felt less elated than she had done earlier in the morning. It crossed her mind that if the unknown Jane Finn had fallen into the hands of Mrs. Vandemeyer, it was likely to have gone hard with her.
CHAPTER X. ENTER SIR JAMES PEEL EDGERTON
TUPPENCE betrayed no awkwardness in her new duties. The daughters of the archdeacon were well grounded in household tasks. They were also experts in training a âraw girl,â the inevitable result being that the raw girl, once trained, departed elsewhere where her newly acquired knowledge commanded a more substantial remuneration than the archdeaconâs meagre purse allowed.
Tuppence had therefore very little fear of proving inefficient. Mrs. Vandemeyerâs cook puzzled her. She evidently went in deadly terror of her mistress. The girl thought it probable that the other woman had some hold over her. For the rest, she cooked like a chef, as Tuppence had an opportunity of judging that evening. Mrs. Vandemeyer was expecting a guest to dinner, and Tuppence accordingly laid the beautifully polished table for two. She was a little exercised in her own mind as to this visitor. It was highly possible that it might prove to be Whittington. Although she felt fairly confident that he would not recognize her, yet she would have been better pleased had the guest proved to be a total stranger. However, there was nothing for it but to hope for the best.
At a few minutes past eight the front door bell rang, and Tuppence went to answer it with some inward trepidation. She was relieved to see that the visitor was the second of the two men whom Tommy had taken upon himself to follow.
He gave his name as Count Stepanov. Tuppence announced him, and Mrs. Vandemeyer rose from her seat on a low divan with a quick murmur of pleasure.
âIt is delightful to see you, Boris Ivanovitch,â she said.
âAnd you, madame!â He bowed low over her hand.
Tuppence returned to the kitchen.
âCount Stepanov, or some such,â she remarked, and affecting a frank and unvarnished curiosity: âWhoâs he?â
âA Russian gentleman, I believe.â
âCome here much?â
âOnce in a while. What dâyou want to know for?â
âFancied he might be sweet on the missus, thatâs all,â explained the girl, adding with an appearance of sulkiness: âHow you do take one up!â
âIâm not quite easy in my mind about the soufflĂ©,â explained the other.
âYou know something,â thought Tuppence to herself, but aloud she only said: âGoing to dish up now? Right-o.â
Whilst waiting at table, Tuppence listened closely to all that was said. She remembered that this was one of the men Tommy was shadowing when she had last seen him. Already, although she would hardly admit it, she was becoming uneasy about her partner. Where was he? Why had no word of any kind come from him? She had arranged before leaving the Ritz to have all letters or messages sent on at once by special messenger to a small stationerâs shop near at hand where Albert was to call in frequently. True, it was only yesterday morning that she had parted from Tommy, and she told herself that any anxiety on his behalf would be absurd. Still, it was strange that he had sent no word of any kind.
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
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