Partners in Crime (20 page)

‘You interest me exceedingly,’ said Tommy. ‘Won’t you go on?’

‘Cheek won’t help you, Mr Blunt. From now on, you’re a marked man. Give up this investigation, and we’ll leave you alone. Otherwise–God help you! Death comes swiftly to those who thwart our plans.’

Tommy did not reply. He was staring over the intruder’s shoulder as though he saw a ghost.

As a matter of fact he was seeing something that caused him far more apprehension than any ghost could have done. Up to now, he had not given a thought to Albert as a factor in the game. He had taken for granted that Albert had already been dealt with by the mysterious stranger. If he had thought of him at all, it was as one lying stunned on the carpet in the outer office.

He now saw that Albert had miraculously escaped the stranger’s attention. But instead of rushing out to fetch a policeman in good sound British fashion, Albert had elected to play a lone hand. The door behind the stranger had opened noiselessly, and Albert stood in the aperture enveloped in a coil of rope.

An agonised yelp of protest burst from Tommy, but too late. Fired with enthusiasm, Albert flung a loop of rope over the intruder’s head, and jerked him backwards off his feet.

The inevitable happened. The pistol went off with a roar and Tommy felt the bullet scorch his ear in passing, ere it buried itself in the plaster behind him.

‘I’ve got him, sir,’ cried Albert, flushed with triumph. ‘I’ve lassoed him. I’ve been practising with a lasso in my spare time, sir. Can you give me a hand? He’s very violent.’

Tommy hastened to his faithful henchman’s assistance, mentally determining that Albert should have no further spare time.

‘You damned idiot,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you go for a policeman? Owing to this fool’s play of yours, he as near as anything plugged me through the head. Whew! I’ve never had such a near escape.’

‘Lassoed him in the nick of time, I did,’ said Albert, his ardour quite undamped. ‘It’s wonderful what those chaps can do on the prairies, sir.’

‘Quite so,’ said Tommy, ‘but we’re not on the prairies. We happen to be in a highly civilised city. And now, my dear sir,’ he added to his prostrate foe. ‘What are we going to do with you?’

A stream of oaths in a foreign language was his only reply.

‘Hush,’ said Tommy. ‘I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying, but I’ve got a shrewd idea it’s not the kind of language to use before a lady. You’ll excuse him, won’t you, Miss–do you know, in the excitement of this little upset, I’ve quite forgotten your name?’ ‘March,’ said the girl. She was still white and shaken. But she came forward now and stood by Tommy looking down on the recumbent figure of the discomfited stranger. ‘What are you going to do with him?’

‘I could fetch a bobby now,’ said Albert helpfully.

But Tommy, looking up, caught a very faint negative movement of the girl’s head, and took his cue accordingly.

‘We’ll let him off this time,’ he remarked. ‘Nevertheless I shall give myself the pleasure of kicking him downstairs–if it’s only to teach him manners to a lady.’

He removed the rope, hauled the victim to his feet, and propelled him briskly through the outer office.

A series of shrill yelps was heard and then a thud. Tommy came back, flushed but smiling.

The girl was staring at him with round eyes.

‘Did you–hurt him?’

‘I hope so,’ said Tommy. ‘But these dagoes make a practice of crying out before they’re hurt–so I can’t be quite sure about it. Shall we come back into my office, Miss March, and resume our interrupted conversation? I don’t think we shall be interrupted again.’

‘I’ll have my lasso ready, sir, in case,’ said the helpful Albert.

‘Put it away,’ ordered Tommy sternly.

He followed the girl into the inner office and sat down at his desk, whilst she took a chair facing him. ‘I don’t quite know where to begin,’ said the girl. ‘As you heard that man say, I was a passenger on the
Nomadic
. The lady you advertised about, Miss O’Hara, was also on board.’

‘Exactly,’ said Tommy. ‘That we know already but I suspect you must know something about her doings on board that boat, or else that picturesque gentleman would not have been in such a hurry to intervene.’

‘I will tell you everything. The American Ambassador was on board. One day, as I was passing his cabin, I saw this woman inside, and she was doing something so extraordinary that I stopped to watch. She had a man’s boot in her hand –’

‘A boot?’ cried Tommy excitedly. ‘I’m sorry, Miss March, go on.’

‘With a little pair of scissors, she was slitting up the lining. Then she seemed to push something inside. Just at that minute the doctor and another man came down the passage, and immediately she dropped back on the couch and groaned. I waited, and I gathered from what was being said that she had pretended to feel faint. I say
pretended
–because when I first caught sight of her, she was obviously feeling nothing of the kind.’

Tommy nodded.

‘Well?’

‘I rather hate to tell you the next part. I was–curious. And also, I’d been reading silly books, and I wondered if she’d put a bomb or a poisoned needle or something like that in Mr Wilmott’s boot. I know it’s absurd–but I did think so. Anyway, next time I passed the empty cabin, I slipped in and examined the boot. I drew out from the lining a slip of paper. Just as I had it in my hand, I heard the steward coming, and I hurried out so as not to be caught. The folded paper was still in my hand. When I got into my own cabin I examined it. Mr Blunt, it was nothing but some verses from the Bible.’

‘Verses from the Bible?’ said Tommy, very much intrigued.

‘At least I thought so at the time. I couldn’t understand it, but I thought perhaps it was the work of a religious maniac. Anyway, I didn’t feel it was worth while replacing it. I kept it without thinking much about it until yesterday when I used it to make into a boat for my little nephew to sail in his bath. As the paper got wet, I saw a queer kind of design coming out all over it. I hastily took it out of the bath, and smoothed it out flat again. The water had brought out the hidden message. It was a kind of tracing–and looked like the mouth of a harbour. Immediately after that I read your advertisement.’

Tommy sprang from his chair.

‘But this is most important. I see it all now. That tracing is probably the plan of some important harbour defences. It had been stolen by this woman. She feared someone was on her track, and not daring to conceal it amongst her own belongings, she contrived this hiding-place. Later, she obtained possession of the bag in which the boot was packed–only to discover that the paper had vanished. Tell me, Miss March, you have brought this paper with you?’

The girl shook her head.

‘It’s at my place of business. I run a beauty parlour in Bond Street. I am really an agent for the “Cyclamen” preparations in New York. That is why I had been over there. I thought the paper might be important, so I locked it up in the safe before coming out. Ought not Scotland Yard to know about it?’

‘Yes, indeed.’

‘Then shall we go there now, get it out, and take it straight to Scotland Yard?’

‘I am very busy this afternoon,’ said Tommy, adopting his professional manner and consulting his watch. ‘The Bishop of London wants me to take up a case for him. A very curious problem, concerning some vestments and two curates.’

‘Then in that case,’ said Miss March, rising, ‘I will go alone.’

Tommy raised a hand in protest.

‘As I was about to say,’ he said, ‘the Bishop must wait. I will leave a few words with Albert. I am convinced, Miss March, that until that paper has been safely deposited with Scotland Yard you are in active danger.’

‘Do you think so?’ said the girl doubtfully.

‘I don’t think so, I’m sure. Excuse me.’ He scribbled some words on the pad in front of him, then tore off the leaf and folded it.

Taking his hat and stick, he intimated to the girl that he was ready to accompany her. In the outer office he handed the folded paper to Albert with an air of importance.

‘I am called out on an urgent case. Explain that to his lordship if he comes. Here are my notes on the case for Miss Robinson.’

‘Very good, sir,’ said Albert, playing up. ‘And what about the Duchess’s pearls?’

Tommy waved his hand irritably.

‘That must wait also.’

He and Miss March hurried out. Half-way down the stairs they encountered Tuppence coming up. Tommy passed her with a brusque: ‘Late again, Miss Robinson. I am called out on an important case.’

Tuppence stood still on the stairs and stared after them. Then, with raised eyebrows, she went on up to the office.

As they reached the street, a taxi came sailing up to them. Tommy, on the point of hailing it, changed his mind. ‘Are you a good walker, Miss March?’ he asked seriously.

‘Yes, why? Hadn’t we better take that taxi? It will be quicker.’

‘Perhaps you did not notice. That taxi driver has just refused a fare a little lower down the street. He was waiting for us. Your enemies are on the look-out. If you feel equal to it, it would be better for us to walk to Bond Street. In the crowded streets they will not be able to attempt much against us.’

‘Very well,’ said the girl, rather doubtfully.

They walked westwards. The streets, as Tommy had said, were crowded, and progress was slow. Tommy kept a sharp look out. Occasionally he drew the girl to one side with a quick gesture, though she herself had seen nothing suspicious.

Suddenly glancing at her, he was seized with compunction.

‘I say, you look awfully done up. The shock of that man. Come into this place and have a good cup of strong coffee. I suppose you wouldn’t hear of a nip of brandy.’

The girl shook her head, with a faint smile.

‘Coffee be it then,’ said Tommy. ‘I think we can safely risk its being poisoned.’

They lingered some time over their coffee, and finally set off at a brisker pace.

‘We’ve thrown them off, I think,’ said Tommy, looking over his shoulder.

Cyclamen Ltd was a small establishment in Bond Street, with pale pink taffeta curtains, and one or two jars of face cream and a cake of soap decorating the window.

Cicely March entered, and Tommy followed. The place inside was tiny. On the left was a glass counter with toilet preparations. Behind this counter was a middle-aged woman with grey hair and an exquisite complexion, who acknowledged Cicely March’s entrance with a faint inclination of the head before continuing to talk to the customer she was serving.

This customer was a small dark woman. Her back was to them and they could not see her face. She was speaking in slow difficult English. On the right was a sofa and a couple of chairs with some magazines on a table. Here sat two men–apparently bored husbands waiting for their wives.

Cicely March passed straight on through a door at the end which she held ajar for Tommy to follow her. As he did so, the woman customer exclaimed, ‘Ah, but I think that is an
amico
of mine,’ and rushed after them, inserting her foot in the door just in time to prevent its closing. At the same time the two men rose to their feet. One followed her through the door, the other advanced to the shop attendant and clapped his hand over her mouth to drown the scream rising to her lips.

In the meantime, things were happening rather quickly beyond the swing door. As Tommy passed through a cloth was flung over his head, and a sickly odour assailed his nostrils. Almost as soon however, it was jerked off again, and a woman’s scream rang out.

Tommy blinked a little and coughed as he took in the scene in front of him. On his right was the mysterious stranger of a few hours ago, and busily fitting handcuffs upon him was one of the bored men from the shop parlour. Just in front of him was Cicely March wrestling vainly to free herself, whilst the woman customer from the shop held her firmly pinioned. As the latter turned her head, and the veil she wore unfastened itself and fell off, the well-known features of Tuppence were revealed.

‘Well done, Tuppence,’ said Tommy, moving forward. ‘Let me give you a hand. I shouldn’t struggle if I were you, Miss O’Hara–or do you prefer to be called Miss March?’

‘This is Inspector Grace, Tommy,’ said Tuppence. ‘As soon as I read the note you left I rang up Scotland Yard, and Inspector Grace and another man met me outside here.’

‘Very glad to get hold of this gentleman,’ said the Inspector, indicating his prisoner. ‘He’s wanted badly. But we’ve never had cause to suspect this place–thought it was a genuine beauty shop.’

‘You see,’ explained Tommy gently, ‘we do have to be so very careful! Why should anyone want the Ambassador’s bag for an hour or so? I put the question the other way round. Supposing it was the other bag that was the important one. Someone wanted that bag to be in the Ambassador’s possession for an hour or so. Much more illuminating! Diplomatic luggage is not subjected to the indignities of a Customs examination. Clearly smuggling. But smuggling of what? Nothing too bulky. At once I thought of drugs. Then that picturesque comedy was enacted in my office. They’d seen my advertisement and wanted to put me off the scent–or failing that, out of the way altogether. But I happened to notice an expression of blank dismay in the charming lady’s eyes when Albert did his lasso act. That didn’t fit in very well with her supposed part. The stranger’s attack was meant to assure my confidence in her. I played the part of the credulous sleuth with all my might–swallowed her rather impossible story and permitted her to lure me here, carefully leaving behind full instructions for dealing with the situation. Under various pretexts I delayed our arrival, so as to give you all plenty of time.’

Cicely March was looking at him with a stony expression.

‘You are mad. What do you expect to find here?’

‘Remembering that Richards saw a tin of bath salts, what do you say about beginning with the bath salts, eh, Inspector?’

‘A very sound idea, sir.’

He picked up one of the dainty pink tins, and emptied it on the table. The girl laughed.

‘Genuine crystals, eh?’ said Tommy. ‘Nothing more deadly than carbonate of soda?’