The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie
CHAPTER XII. A FRIEND IN NEED
FRIDAY and Saturday passed uneventfully. Tuppence had received a briefanswer to her appeal from Mr. Carter. In it he pointed out that theYoung Adventurers had undertaken the work at their own risk, and hadbeen fully warned of the dangers. If anything had happened to Tommy heregretted it deeply, but he could do nothing.
This was cold comfort. Somehow, without Tommy, all the savour went outof the adventure, and, for the first time, Tuppence felt doubtful ofsuccess. While they had been together she had never questioned it fora minute. Although she was accustomed to take the lead, and to prideherself on her quick-wittedness, in reality she had relied upon Tommymore than she realized at the time. There was something so eminentlysober and clear-headed about him, his common sense and soundness ofvision were so unvarying, that without him Tuppence felt much like arudderless ship. It was curious that Julius, who was undoubtedly muchcleverer than Tommy, did not give her the same feeling of support. Shehad accused Tommy of being a pessimist, and it is certain that healways saw the disadvantages and difficulties which she herself wasoptimistically given to overlooking, but nevertheless she had reallyrelied a good deal on his judgment. He might be slow, but he was verysure.
It seemed to the girl that, for the first time, she realized thesinister character of the mission they had undertaken so lightheartedly.It had begun like a page of romance. Now, shorn of its glamour, itseemed to be turning to grim reality. Tommy--that was all that mattered.Many times in the day Tuppence blinked the tears out of her eyesresolutely. “Little fool,” she would apostrophize herself, “don’tsnivel. Of course you’re fond of him. You’ve known him all your life.But there’s no need to be sentimental about it.”
In the meantime, nothing more was seen of Boris. He did not come to theflat, and Julius and the car waited in vain. Tuppence gave herself overto new meditations. Whilst admitting the truth of Julius’s objections,she had nevertheless not entirely relinquished the idea of appealing toSir James Peel Edgerton. Indeed, she had gone so far as to look up hisaddress in the _Red Book_. Had he meant to warn her that day? If so,why? Surely she was at least entitled to demand an explanation. He hadlooked at her so kindly. Perhaps he might tell them something concerningMrs. Vandemeyer which might lead to a clue to Tommy’s whereabouts.
Anyway, Tuppence decided, with her usual shake of the shoulders, it wasworth trying, and try it she would. Sunday was her afternoon out. Shewould meet Julius, persuade him to her point of view, and they wouldbeard the lion in his den.
When the day arrived Julius needed a considerable amount of persuading,but Tuppence held firm. “It can do no harm,” was what she always cameback to. In the end Julius gave in, and they proceeded in the car toCarlton House Terrace.
The door was opened by an irreproachable butler. Tuppence felt a littlenervous. After all, perhaps it _was_ colossal cheek on her part. Shehad decided not to ask if Sir James was “at home,” but to adopt a morepersonal attitude.
“Will you ask Sir James if I can see him for a few minutes? I have animportant message for him.”
The butler retired, returning a moment or two later.
“Sir James will see you. Will you step this way?”
He ushered them into a room at the back of the house, furnished as alibrary. The collection of books was a magnificent one, and Tuppencenoticed that all one wall was devoted to works on crime and criminology.There were several deep-padded leather arm-chairs, and an old-fashionedopen hearth. In the window was a big roll-top desk strewn with papers atwhich the master of the house was sitting.
He rose as they entered.
“You have a message for me? Ah”--he recognized Tuppence with asmile--“it’s you, is it? Brought a message from Mrs. Vandemeyer, Isuppose?”
“Not exactly,” said Tuppence. “In fact, I’m afraid I only said that tobe quite sure of getting in. Oh, by the way, this is Mr. Hersheimmer,Sir James Peel Edgerton.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said the American, shooting out a hand.
“Won’t you both sit down?” asked Sir James. He drew forward two chairs.
“Sir James,” said Tuppence, plunging boldly, “I dare say you will thinkit is most awful cheek of me coming here like this. Because, of course,it’s nothing whatever to do with you, and then you’re a very importantperson, and of course Tommy and I are very unimportant.” She paused forbreath.
“Tommy?” queried Sir James, looking across at the American.
“No, that’s Julius,” explained Tuppence. “I’m rather nervous, and thatmakes me tell it badly. What I really want to know is what you meant bywhat you said to me the other day? Did you mean to warn me against Mrs.Vandemeyer? You did, didn’t you?”
“My dear young lady, as far as I recollect I only mentioned that therewere equally good situations to be obtained elsewhere.”
“Yes, I know. But it was a hint, wasn’t it?”
“Well, perhaps it was,” admitted Sir James gravely.
“Well, I want to know more. I want to know just _why_ you gave me ahint.”
Sir James smiled at her earnestness.
“Suppose the lady brings a libel action against me for defamation ofcharacter?”
“Of course,” said Tuppence. “I know lawyers are always dreadfullycareful. But can’t we say ‘without prejudice’ first, and then say justwhat we want to.”
“Well,” said Sir James, still smiling, “without prejudice, then, if Ihad a young sister forced to earn her living, I should not like to seeher in Mrs. Vandemeyer’s service. I felt it incumbent on me just to giveyou a hint. It is no place for a young and inexperienced girl. That isall I can tell you.”
“I see,” said Tuppence thoughtfully. “Thank you very much. But I’m not_really_ inexperienced, you know. I knew perfectly that she was a badlot when I went there--as a matter of fact that’s _why_ I went----” Shebroke off, seeing some bewilderment on the lawyer’s face, and went on:“I think perhaps I’d better tell you the whole story, Sir James. I’ve asort of feeling that you’d know in a minute if I didn’t tell the truth,and so you might as well know all about it from the beginning. What doyou think, Julius?”
“As you’re bent on it, I’d go right ahead with the facts,” replied theAmerican, who had so far sat in silence.
“Yes, tell me all about it,” said Sir James. “I want to know who Tommyis.”
Thus encouraged Tuppence plunged into her tale, and the lawyer listenedwith close attention.
“Very interesting,” he said, when she finished. “A great deal of whatyou tell me, child, is already known to me. I’ve had certain theoriesof my own about this Jane Finn. You’ve done extraordinarily well sofar, but it’s rather too bad of--what do you know him as?--Mr. Carter topitchfork you two young things into an affair of this kind. By theway, where did Mr. Hersheimmer come in originally? You didn’t make thatclear?”
Julius answered for himself.
“I’m Jane’s first cousin,” he explained, returning the lawyer’s keengaze.
“Ah!”
“Oh, Sir James,” broke out Tuppence, “what do you think has become ofTommy?”
“H’m.” The lawyer rose, and paced slowly up and down. “When you arrived,young lady, I was just packing up my traps. Going to Scotland by thenight train for a few days’ fishing. But there are different kinds offishing. I’ve a good mind to stay, and see if we can’t get on the trackof that young chap.”
“Oh!” Tuppence clasped her hands ecstatically.
“All the same, as I said before, it’s too bad of--of Carter to set youtwo babies on a job like this. Now, don’t get offended, Miss--er----”
“Cowley. Prudence Cowley. But my friends call me Tuppence.”
“Well, Miss Tuppence, then, as I’m certainly going to be a friend. Don’tbe offended because I think you’re young. Youth is a failing only tooeasily outgrown. Now, about this young Tommy of yours----”
“Yes.” Tuppence clasped her hands.
“Frankly, things look bad for h
“And you really will help us? There, Julius! He didn’t want me to come,” she added by way of explanation.
“H’m,” said the lawyer, favouring Julius with another keen glance. “Andwhy was that?”
“I reckoned it would be no good worrying you with a petty littlebusiness like this.”
“I see.” He paused a moment. “This petty little business, as you callit, bears directly on a very big business, bigger perhaps than eitheryou or Miss Tuppence know. If this boy is alive, he may have veryvaluable information to give us. Therefore, we must find him.”
“Yes, but how?” cried Tuppence. “I’ve tried to think of everything.”
Sir James smiled.
“And yet there’s one person quite near at hand who in all probabilityknows where he is, or at all events where he is likely to be.”
“Who is that?” asked Tuppence, puzzled.
“Mrs. Vandemeyer.”
“Yes, but she’d never tell us.”
“Ah, that is where I come in. I think it quite likely that I shall beable to make Mrs. Vandemeyer tell me what I want to know.”
“How?” demanded Tuppence, opening her eyes very wide.
“Oh, just by asking her questions,” replied Sir James easily. “That’sthe way we do it, you know.”
He tapped with his finger on the table, and Tuppence felt again theintense power that radiated from the man.
“And if she won’t tell?” asked Julius suddenly.
“I think she will. I have one or two powerful levers. Still, in thatunlikely event, there is always the possibility of bribery.”
“Sure. And that’s where I come in!” cried Julius, bringing his fist downon the table with a bang. “You can count on me, if necessary, for onemillion dollars. Yes, sir, one million dollars!”
Sir James sat down and subjected Julius to a long scrutiny.
“Mr. Hersheimmer,” he said at last, “that is a very large sum.”
“I guess it’ll have to be. These aren’t the kind of folk to offersixpence to.”
“At the present rate of exchange it amounts to considerably over twohundred and fifty thousand pounds.”
“That’s so. Maybe you think I’m talking through my hat, but I candeliver the goods all right, with enough over to spare for your fee.”
Sir James flushed slightly.
“There is no question of a fee, Mr. Hersheimmer. I am not a privatedetective.”
“Sorry. I guess I was just a mite hasty, but I’ve been feeling bad aboutthis money question. I wanted to offer a big reward for news of Janesome days ago, but your crusted institution of Scotland Yard advised meagainst it. Said it was undesirable.”
“They were probably right,” said Sir James dryly.
“But it’s all O.K. about Julius,” put in Tuppence. “He’s not pullingyour leg. He’s got simply pots of money.”
“The old man piled it up in style,” explained Julius. “Now, let’s getdown to it. What’s your idea?”
Sir James considered for a moment or two.
“There is no time to be lost. The sooner we strike the better.” Heturned to Tuppence. “Is Mrs. Vandemeyer dining out to-night, do youknow?”
“Yes, I think so, but she will not be out late. Otherwise, she wouldhave taken the latchkey.”
“Good. I will call upon her about ten o’clock. What time are yousupposed to return?”
“About nine-thirty or ten, but I could go back earlier.”
“You must not do that on any account. It might arouse suspicion if youdid not stay out till the usual time. Be back by nine-thirty. I willarrive at ten. Mr. Hersheimmer will wait below in a taxi perhaps.”
“He’s got a new Rolls-Royce car,” said Tuppence with vicarious pride.
“Even better. If I succeed in obtaining the address from her, we cango there at once, taking Mrs. Vandemeyer with us if necessary. Youunderstand?”
“Yes.” Tuppence rose to her feet with a skip of delight. “Oh, I feel somuch better!”
“Don’t build on it too much, Miss Tuppence. Go easy.”
Julius turned to the lawyer.
“Say, then. I’ll call for you in the car round about nine-thirty. Isthat right?”
“Perhaps that will be the best plan. It would be unnecessary to have twocars waiting about. Now, Miss Tuppence, my advice to you is to go andhave a good dinner, a _really_ good one, mind. And don’t think aheadmore than you can help.”
He shook hands with them both, and a moment later they were outside.
“Isn’t he a duck?” inquired Tuppence ecstatically, as she skipped downthe steps. “Oh, Julius, isn’t he just a duck?”
“Well, I allow he seems to be the goods all right. And I was wrong aboutits being useless to go to him. Say, shall we go right away back to the_Ritz?_”
“I must walk a bit, I think. I feel so excited. Drop me in the park,will you? Unless you’d like to come too?”
“I want to get some petrol,” he explained. “And send off a cable ortwo.”
“All right. I’ll meet you at the _Ritz_ at seven. We’ll have to dineupstairs. I can’t show myself in these glad rags.”
“Sure. I’ll get Felix help me choose the menu. He’s some head waiter,that. So long.”
Tuppence walked briskly along towards the Serpentine, first glancing ather watch. It was nearly six o’clock. She remembered that she had had notea, but felt too excited to be conscious of hunger. She walked asfar as Kensington Gardens and then slowly retraced her steps, feelinginfinitely better for the fresh air and exercise. It was not so easy tofollow Sir James’s advice, and put the possible events of the eveningout of her head. As she drew nearer and nearer to Hyde Park corner, thetemptation to return to South Audley Mansions was almost irresistible.
At any rate, she decided, it would do no harm just to go and _look_at the building. Perhaps, then, she could resign herself to waitingpatiently for ten o’clock.
South Audley Mansions looked exactly the same as usual. What Tuppencehad expected she hardly knew, but the sight of its red brick stolidityslightly assuaged the growing and entirely unreasonable uneasinessthat possessed her. She was just turning away when she heard a piercingwhistle, and the faithful Albert came running from the building to joinher.
Tuppence frowned. It was no part of the programme to have attentioncalled to her presence in the neighbourhood, but Albert was purple withsuppressed excitement.
“I say, miss, she’s a-going!”
“Who’s going?” demanded Tuppence sharply.
“The crook. Ready Rita. Mrs. Vandemeyer. She’s a-packing up, and she’sjust sent down word for me to get her a taxi.”
“What?” Tuppence clutched his arm.
“It’s the truth, miss. I thought maybe as you didn’t know about it.”
“Albert,” cried Tuppence, “you’re a brick. If it hadn’t been for youwe’d have lost her.”
Albert flushed with pleasure at this tribute.
“There’s no time to lose,” said Tuppence, crossing the road. “I’ve gotto stop her. At all costs I must keep her here until----” She broke off.“Albert, there’s a telephone here, isn’t there?”
The boy shook his head.
“The flats mostly have their own, miss. But there’s a box just round thecorner.”
“Go to it then, at once, and ring up the _Ritz Hotel_. Ask for Mr.Hersheimmer, and when you get him tell him to get Sir James and come onat once, as Mrs. Vandemeyer is trying to hook it. If you can’t get him,ring up Sir James Peel Edgerton, you’ll find his number in the book, andtell him what’s happening. You won’t forget the names, will you?”
Albert repeated them glibly. “You trust to me, miss, it’ll be all right.But what about you? Aren’t you afraid to trust yourself with her?”
“No, no, that’s all right. _But go and telephone_. Be quick.”
Drawing a long breath, Tuppence entere
Speculations were idle. Tuppence pressed the bell firmly. She mightlearn something from the cook.
Nothing happened and, after waiting some minutes, Tuppence pressed thebell again, keeping her finger on the button for some little while.At last she heard footsteps inside, and a moment later Mrs. Vandemeyerherself opened the door. She lifted her eyebrows at the sight of thegirl.
“You?”
“I had a touch of toothache, ma’am,” said Tuppence glibly. “So thoughtit better to come home and have a quiet evening.”
Mrs. Vandemeyer said nothing, but she drew back and let Tuppence passinto the hall.
“How unfortunate for you,” she said coldly. “You had better go to bed.”
“Oh, I shall be all right in the kitchen, ma’am. Cook will----”
“Cook is out,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer, in a rather disagreeable tone. “Isent her out. So you see you had better go to bed.”
Suddenly Tuppence felt afraid. There was a ring in Mrs. Vandemeyer’svoice that she did not like at all. Also, the other woman was slowlyedging her up the passage. Tuppence turned at bay.
“I don’t want----”
Then, in a flash, a rim of cold steel touched her temple, and Mrs.Vandemeyer’s voice rose cold and menacing:
“You damned little fool! Do you think I don’t know? No, don’t answer. Ifyou struggle or cry out, I’ll shoot you like a dog.”
The rim of steel pressed a little harder against the girl’s temple.
“Now then, march,” went on Mrs. Vandemeyer. “This way--into my room. Ina minute, when I’ve done with you, you’ll go to bed as I told you to.And you’ll sleep--oh yes, my little spy, you’ll sleep all right!”
There was a sort of hideous geniality in the last words which Tuppencedid not at all like. For the moment there was nothing to be done, andshe walked obediently into Mrs. Vandemeyer’s bedroom. The pistol neverleft her forehead. The room was in a state of wild disorder, clotheswere flung about right and left, a suit-case and a hat box, half-packed,stood in the middle of the floor.
Tuppence pulled herself together with an effort. Her voice shook alittle, but she spoke out bravely.
“Come now,” she said. “This is nonsense. You can’t shoot me. Why, everyone in the building would hear the report.”
“I’d risk that,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer cheerfully. “But, as long as youdon’t sing out for help, you’re all right--and I don’t think you will.You’re a clever girl. You deceived _me_ all right. I hadn’t a suspicionof you! So I’ve no doubt that you understand perfectly well that thisis where I’m on top and you’re underneath. Now then--sit on the bed. Putyour hands above your head, and if you value your life don’t move them.”
Tuppence obeyed passively. Her good sense told her that there wasnothing else to do but accept the situation. If she shrieked for helpthere was very little chance of anyone hearing her, whereas there wasprobably quite a good chance of Mrs. Vandemeyer’s shooting her. In themeantime, every minute of delay gained was valuable.
Mrs. Vandemeyer laid down the revolver on the edge of the washstandwithin reach of her hand, and, still eyeing Tuppence like a lynx in casethe girl should attempt to move, she took a little stoppered bottle fromits place on the marble and poured some of its contents into a glasswhich she filled up with water.
“What’s that?” asked Tuppence sharply.
“Something to make you sleep soundly.”
Tuppence paled a little.
“Are you going to poison me?” she asked in a whisper.
“Perhaps,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer, smiling agreeably.
“Then I shan’t drink it,” said Tuppence firmly. “I’d much rather beshot. At any rate that would make a row, and some one might hear it. ButI won’t be killed off quietly like a lamb.”
Mrs. Vandemeyer stamped her foot.
“Don’t be a little fool! Do you really think I want a hue and cry formurder out after me? If you’ve any sense at all, you’ll realize thatpoisoning you wouldn’t suit my book at all. It’s a sleeping draught,that’s all. You’ll wake up to-morrow morning none the worse. I simplydon’t want the bother of tying you up and gagging you. That’s thealternative--and you won’t like it, I can tell you! I can be very roughif I choose. So drink this down like a good girl, and you’ll be none theworse for it.”
In her heart of hearts Tuppence believed her. The arguments she hadadduced rang true. It was a simple and effective method of getting herout of the way for the time being. Nevertheless, the girl did not takekindly to the idea of being tamely put to sleep without as much as onebid for freedom. She felt that once Mrs. Vandemeyer gave them the slip,the last hope of finding Tommy would be gone.
Tuppence was quick in her mental processes. All these reflectionspassed through her mind in a flash, and she saw where a chance, a veryproblematical chance, lay, and she determined to risk all in one supremeeffort.
Accordingly, she lurched suddenly off the bed and fell on her kneesbefore Mrs. Vandemeyer, clutching her skirts frantically.
“I don’t believe it,” she moaned. “It’s poison--I know it’s poison.Oh, don’t make me drink it”--her voice rose to a shriek--“don’t make medrink it!”
Mrs. Vandemeyer, glass in hand, looked down with a curling lip at thissudden collapse.
“Get up, you little idiot! Don’t go on drivelling there. How you everhad the nerve to play your part as you did I can’t think.” She stampedher foot. “Get up, I say.”
But Tuppence continued to cling and sob, interjecting her sobs withincoherent appeals for mercy. Every minute gained was to the good.Moreover, as she grovelled, she moved imperceptibly nearer to herobjective.
Mrs. Vandemeyer gave a sharp impatient exclamation, and jerked the girlto her knees.
“Drink it at once!” Imperiously she pressed the glass to the girl’slips.
Tuppence gave one last despairing moan.
“You swear it won’t hurt me?” she temporized.
“Of course it won’t hurt you. Don’t be a fool.”
“Will you swear it?”
“Yes, yes,” said the other impatiently. “I swear it.”
Tuppence raised a trembling left hand to the glass.
“Very well.” Her mouth opened meekly.
Mrs. Vandemeyer gave a sigh of relief, off her guard for the moment.Then, quick as a flash, Tuppence jerked the glass upward as hard as shecould. The fluid in it splashed into Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face, and duringher momentary gasp, Tuppence’s right hand shot out and grasped therevolver where it lay on the edge of the washstand. The next momentshe had sprung back a pace, and the revolver pointed straight at Mrs.Vandemeyer’s heart, with no unsteadiness in the hand that held it.
In the moment of victory, Tuppence betrayed a somewhat unsportsmanliketriumph.
“Now who’s on top and who’s underneath?” she crowed.
The other’s face was convulsed with rage. For a minute Tuppence thoughtshe was going to spring upon her, which would have placed the girl in anunpleasant dilemma, since she meant to draw the line at actually lettingoff the revolver. However, with an effort Mrs. Vandemeyer controlledherself, and at last a slow evil smile crept over her face.
“Not a fool, then, after all! You did that well, girl. But you shall payfor it--oh, yes, you shall pay for it! I have a long memory!”
“I’m surprised you should have been gulled so easily,” said Tuppencescornfully. “Did you really think I was the kind of girl to roll abouton the floor and whine for mercy?”
“You may do--some day!” said the other significantly.
The cold malignity of her manner sent an unpleasant chill downTuppence’s spine, but she was not going to give in to it.
“Supposing we sit down,” she
“What about?” said Mrs. Vandemeyer sullenly.
Tuppence eyed her thoughtfully for a minute. She was remembering severalthings. Boris’s words, “I believe you would sell-- _us!_” and heranswer, “The price would have to be enormous,” given lightly, it wastrue, yet might not there be a substratum of truth in it? Long ago,had not Whittington asked: “Who’s been blabbing? Rita?” Would RitaVandemeyer prove to be the weak spot in the armour of Mr. Brown?
Keeping her eyes fixed steadily on the other’s face, Tuppence repliedquietly:
“Money----”
Mrs. Vandemeyer started. Clearly, the reply was unexpected.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll tell you. You said just now that you had a long memory. A longmemory isn’t half as useful as a long purse! I dare say it relieves yourfeelings a good deal to plan out all sorts of dreadful things to do tome, but is that _practical?_ Revenge is very unsatisfactory. Every onealways says so. But money”--Tuppence warmed to her pet creed--“well,there’s nothing unsatisfactory about money, is there?”
“Do you think,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer scornfully, “that I am the kind ofwoman to sell my friends?”
“Yes,” said Tuppence promptly. “If the price was big enough.”
“A paltry hundred pounds or so!”
“No,” said Tuppence. “I should suggest--a hundred thousand!”
Her economical spirit did not permit her to mention the whole milliondollars suggested by Julius.
A flush crept over Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face.
“What did you say?” she asked, her fingers playing nervously with abrooch on her breast. In that moment Tuppence knew that the fish washooked, and for the first time she felt a horror of her own money-lovingspirit. It gave her a dreadful sense of kinship to the woman frontingher.
“A hundred thousand pounds,” repeated Tuppence.
The light died out of Mrs. Vandemeyer’s eyes. She leaned back in herchair.
“Bah!” she said. “You haven’t got it.”
“No,” admitted Tuppence, “I haven’t--but I know some one who has.”
“Who?”
“A friend of mine.”
“Must be a millionaire,” remarked Mrs. Vandemeyer unbelievingly.
“As a matter of fact he is. He’s an American. He’ll pay you thatwithout a murmur. You can take it from me that it’s a perfectly genuineproposition.”
Mrs. Vandemeyer sat up again.
“I’m inclined to believe you,” she said slowly.
There was silence between them for some time, then Mrs. Vandemeyerlooked up.
“What does he want to know, this friend of yours?”
Tuppence went through a momentary struggle, but it was Julius’s money,and his interests must come first.
“He wants to know where Jane Finn is,” she said boldly.
Mrs. Vandemeyer showed no surprise.
“I’m not sure where she is at the present moment,” she replied.
“But you could find out?”
“Oh, yes,” returned Mrs. Vandemeyer carelessly. “There would be nodifficulty about that.”
“Then”--Tuppence’s voice shook a little--“there’s a boy, a friend ofmine. I’m afraid something’s happened to him, through your pal Boris.”
“What’s his name?”
“Tommy Beresford.”
“Never heard of him. But I’ll ask Boris. He’ll tell me anything heknows.”
“Thank you.” Tuppence felt a terrific rise in her spirits. It impelledher to more audacious efforts. “There’s one thing more.”
“Well?”
Tuppence leaned forward and lowered her voice.
_“Who is Mr. Brown?”_
Her quick eyes saw the sudden paling of the beautiful face. With aneffort Mrs. Vandemeyer pulled herself together and tried to resume herformer manner. But the attempt was a mere parody.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“You can’t have learnt much about us if you don’t know that _nobodyknows who Mr. Brown is_....”
“You do,” said Tuppence quietly.
Again the colour deserted the other’s face.
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know,” said the girl truthfully. “But I’m sure.”
Mrs. Vandemeyer stared in front of her for a long time.
“Yes,” she said hoarsely, at last, “_I_ know. I was beautiful, yousee--very beautiful----”
“You are still,” said Tuppence with admiration.
Mrs. Vandemeyer shook her head. There was a strange gleam in herelectric-blue eyes.
“Not beautiful enough,” she said in a soft dangerous voice.“Not--beautiful--enough! And sometimes, lately, I’ve been afraid....It’s dangerous to know too much!” She leaned forward across the table.“Swear that my name shan’t be brought into it--that no one shall everknow.”
“I swear it. And, once’s he caught, you’ll be out of danger.”
A terrified look swept across Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face.
“Shall I? Shall I ever be?” She clutched Tuppence’s arm. “You’re sureabout the money?”
“Quite sure.”
“When shall I have it? There must be no delay.”
“This friend of mine will be here presently. He may have to send cables,or something like that. But there won’t be any delay--he’s a terrifichustler.”
A resolute look settled on Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face.
“I’ll do it. It’s a great sum of money, and besides”--she gave a curioussmile--“it is not--wise to throw over a woman like me!”
For a moment or two, she remained smiling, and lightly tapping herfingers on the table. Suddenly she started, and her face blanched.
“What was that?”
“I heard nothing.”
Mrs. Vandemeyer gazed round her fearfully.
“If there should be some one listening----”
“Nonsense. Who could there be?”
“Even the walls might have ears,” whispered the other. “I tell you I’mfrightened. You don’t know him!”
“Think of the hundred thousand pounds,” said Tuppence soothingly.
Mrs. Vandemeyer passed her tongue over her dried lips.
“You don’t know him,” she reiterated hoarsely. “He’s--ah!”
With a shriek of terror she sprang to her feet. Her outstretched handpointed over Tuppence’s head. Then she swayed to the ground in a deadfaint.
Tuppence looked round to see what had startled her.
In the doorway were Sir James Peel Edgerton and Julius Hersheimmer.