The Complete Tommy & Tuppence Collection (140 page)

‘You understand, Albert,' said Tommy.

He and Albert were together in the pantry where Albert was washing up the tea tray he had just brought down from Tuppence's bedroom.

‘Yes, sir,' said Albert. ‘I understand.'

‘You know, I think you will get a bit of a warning–from Hannibal.'

‘He's a good dog in some ways,' said Albert. ‘Doesn't take to everyone, of course.'

‘No,' said Tommy, ‘that's not his job in life. Not one of those dogs who welcome in the burglars and wag their tails at the wrong person. Hannibal knows a few things. But I have made it quite clear to you, haven't I?'

‘Yes. I don't know what I am to do if the missus–well, am I to do what the missus says or tell her what you said or–'

‘I think you'll have to use a certain amount of
diplomacy,' said Tommy. ‘I'm making her stay in bed today. I'm leaving her in your charge more or less.'

Albert had just opened the front door to a youngish man in a tweed suit.

Albert looked up doubtfully at Tommy. The visitor stepped inside and advanced one step, a friendly smile on his face.

‘Mr Beresford? I've heard you want a bit of help in your garden–just moved in here lately, haven't you? I noticed coming up the drive that it was getting rather overgrown. I did some work locally a couple of years ago–for a Mr Solomon–you may have heard of him.'

‘Mr Solomon, yes, someone did mention him.'

‘My name's Crispin, Angus Crispin. Perhaps we might take a look at what wants doing.'

II

‘About time someone did something about the garden,' said Mr Crispin, as Tommy led him on a tour of the flower-beds and the vegetable garden.

‘That's where they used to grow the spinach along this kitchen garden path here. Behind it were some frames. They used to grow melons too.'

‘You seem to be very well aware of all this.'

‘Well, one heard a lot you know of what had been
everywhere in the old days. Old ladies tell you about the flower-beds and Alexander Parkinson told a lot of his pals about the foxglove leaves.'

‘He must have been a rather remarkable boy.'

‘Well, he had ideas and he was very keen on crime. He made a kind of code message out in one of Stevenson's books:
The Black Arrow
.'

‘Rather a good one, that, isn't it? I read it myself about five years ago. Before that I'd never got further than
Kidnapped
. When I was working for–' He hesitated.

‘Mr Solomon?' suggested Tommy.

‘Yes, yes, that's the name. I heard things. Heard things from old Isaac. I gather, unless I've heard the wrong rumours, I gather that old Isaac must have been, oh, getting on for a hundred and did some work for you here.'

‘Yes,' said Tommy. ‘For his age he was rather wonderful, really. He knew a lot of things he used to tell us, too. Things he couldn't have remembered himself.'

‘No, but he liked the gossip of the old days. He's got relations here still, you know, who have listened to his tales and checked up on his stories. I expect you've heard a good many things yourself.'

‘So far,' said Tommy, ‘everything seems to work out in lists of names. Names from the past but names, naturally, that don't mean anything to me. They can't.'

‘All hearsay?'

‘Mostly. My wife has listened to a lot of it and made some lists. I don't know whether any of them mean anything. I've got one list myself. It only came into my hands yesterday, as a matter of fact.'

‘Oh. What's your list?'

‘Census,' said Tommy. ‘You know, there was a census on–I've got the date written down so I'll give it to you–and the people who were entered up that day because they spent the night here. There was a big party. A dinner-party.'

‘So you know on a certain date–and perhaps quite an interesting date–who was here?'

‘Yes,' said Tommy.

‘It might be valuable. It might be quite significant. You've only just moved in here, haven't you?'

‘Yes,' said Tommy, ‘but it's possible we might just want to move out of here.'

‘Don't you like it? It's a nice house, and this garden–well, this garden could be made very beautiful indeed. You've got some fine shrubs–wants a bit of clearing out, superfluous trees and bushes, flowering shrubs that haven't flowered lately and may never flower again by the look of them. Yes, I don't know why you'd want to go and move.'

‘The associations with the past aren't terribly pleasant here,' said Tommy.

‘The past,' said Mr Crispin. ‘How does the past tie up with the present?'

‘One thinks it doesn't matter, it's all behind us. But there's always somebody left, you know. I don't mean walking about but somebody who comes alive when people tell you about her or him or it or them. You really would be prepared to do a bit of–'

‘Bit of jobbing gardening for you? Yes, I would. It would interest me. It's rather a–well, it's rather a hobby of mine, gardening.'

‘There was a Miss Mullins who came yesterday.'

‘Mullins? Mullins? Is she a gardener?'

‘I gather something in that line. It was a Mrs–a Mrs Griffin, I think it was–who mentioned her to my wife and who sent her along to see us.'

‘Did you fix up with her or not?'

‘Not definitely,' said Tommy. ‘As a matter of fact we've got a rather enthusiastic guard dog here. A Manchester Terrier.'

‘Yes, they can be very enthusiastic at guarding. I suppose he thinks your wife is his business and he practically never lets her go anywhere alone. He's always there.'

‘Quite right,' said Tommy, ‘and he's prepared to tear anyone limb from limb who lays a finger on her.'

‘Nice dogs. Very affectionate, very loyal, very self-willed, very sharp teeth. I'd better look out for him, I suppose.'

‘He's all right at the moment. He's up in the house.'

‘Miss Mullins,' said Crispin thoughtfully. ‘Yes. Yes, that's interesting.'

‘Why is it interesting?'

‘Oh, I think it's because–well, I wouldn't know her by that name, of course. Is she between fifty and sixty?'

‘Yes. Very tweedy and countrified.'

‘Yes. Got some country connections, too. Isaac could have told you something about her, I expect. I heard she'd come back to live here. Not so very long ago, either. Things tie up, you know.'

‘I expect you know things about this place that I don't,' said Tommy.

‘I shouldn't think so. Isaac could have told you a lot, though. He knew things. Old stories, as you say, but he had a memory. And they talked it over. Yes, in these clubs for old people, they talk things over. Tall stories–some of them not true, some of them based on fact. Yes, it's all very interesting. And–I suppose he knew too much.'

‘It's a shame about Isaac,' said Tommy. ‘I'd like to get even with whoever did him in. He was a nice old boy and he was good to us and did as much as he could to help us here. Come on, anyway, let's go on looking round.'

Albert tapped on the bedroom door and in answer to Tuppence's ‘Come in' advanced his head round the side of it.

‘The lady as came the other morning,' he said. ‘Miss Mullins. She's here. Wants to speak to you for a minute or two. Suggestions about the garden, I understand. I said as you was in bed and I wasn't sure if you were receiving.'

‘The words you use, Albert,' said Tuppence. ‘All right. I am receiving.'

‘I was just going to bring your morning coffee up.'

‘Well, you can bring that up and another cup. That's all. There'll be enough for two, won't there?'

‘Oh yes, madam.'

‘Very well, then. Bring it up, put it on the table over there, and then bring Miss Mullins up.'

‘What about Hannibal?' said Albert. ‘Shall I take him down and shut him up in the kitchen?'

‘He doesn't like being shut up in the kitchen. No. Just push him into the bathroom and shut the door of it when you've done so.'

Hannibal, resenting the insult which was being put upon him, allowed with a bad grace Albert's pushing him into the bathroom and adjustment to the door. He gave several loud fierce barks.

‘Shut up!' Tuppence shouted to him. ‘Shut up!'

Hannibal consented to shut up as far as barking went. He lay down with his paws in front of him and his nose pressed to the crack under the door and uttered long, non-cooperative growls.

‘Oh, Mrs Beresford,' cried Miss Mullins, ‘I'm afraid I am intruding, but I really thought you'd like to look at this book I have on gardening. Suggestions for planting at this time of year. Some very rare and interesting shrubs and they do quite well in this particular soil although some people say they won't…Oh dear–oh no, oh, it's very kind of you. Yes, I would like a cup of coffee. Please let me pour it out for you, it's so difficult when you're in bed. I wonder, perhaps–' Miss Mullins looked at Albert, who obligingly drew up a chair.

‘That be all right for you, miss?' he demanded.

‘Oh yes, very nice indeed. Dear me, is that another bell downstairs?'

‘Milk, I expect,' said Albert. ‘Or might be the grocer. It's his morning. Excuse me, won't you.'

He went out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Hannibal gave another growl.

‘That's my dog,' said Tuppence, ‘he's very annoyed at not being allowed to join the party but he makes so much noise.'

‘Do you take sugar, Mrs Beresford?'

‘One lump,' said Tuppence.

Miss Mullins poured out a cup of coffee. Tuppence said, ‘Otherwise black.'

Miss Mullins put down the coffee beside Tuppence and went to pour out a cup for herself.

Suddenly she stumbled, clutched at an occasional table, and went down on her knees with an exclamation of dismay.

‘Have you hurt yourself?' demanded Tuppence.

‘No, oh no, but I've broken your vase. I caught my foot in something–so clumsy–and your beautiful vase is smashed. Dear Mrs Beresford, what will you think of me? I assure you it was an accident.'

‘Of course it was,' said Tuppence kindly. ‘Let me see. Well, it looks as if it could be worse. It's broken in two, which means we shall be able to glue it together. I dare say the join will hardly show.'

‘I shall still feel awful about it,' declared Miss Mullins. ‘I know you must perhaps be feeling ill and I oughtn't
to have come today, but I did so want to tell you–'

Hannibal began to bark again.

‘Oh, the poor wee doggie,' said Miss Mullins, ‘shall I let him out?'

‘Better not,' said Tuppence. ‘He's not very reliable sometimes.'

‘Oh dear, is that another bell downstairs?'

‘No,' said Tuppence. ‘Albert'll answer it. He can always bring up a message if necessary.'

It was, however, Tommy who answered the telephone.

‘Hullo,' he said. ‘Yes? Oh, I see. Who? I see–yes. Oh. An enemy, definite enemy. Yes, that's all right. We've taken the countermeasures all right. Yes. Thank you very much.'

He dropped the receiver back, and looked at Mr Crispin.

‘Words of warning?' said Mr Crispin.

‘Yes,' said Tommy.

He continued to look at Mr Crispin.

‘Difficult to know, isn't it? I mean, who's your enemy and who's your friend.'

‘Sometimes when you know it's too late. Postern of Fate, Disaster's Cavern,' said Tommy.

Mr Crispin looked at him in some surprise.

‘Sorry,' said Tommy. ‘For some reason or other we've got in the habit of reciting poetry in this house.'

‘Flecker, isn't it? “Gates of Baghdad” or is it the “Gates of Damascus”?'

‘Come up, will you?' said Tommy. ‘Tuppence is only resting, she's not suffering from any peculiar disease or anything. Not even a sneezing cold in the head.'

‘I've taken up coffee,' said Albert, reappearing suddenly, ‘and an extra cup for Miss Mullins wot's up there now with a gardening book or something.'

‘I see,' said Tommy. ‘Yes. Yes, it's all going very well. Where's Hannibal?'

‘Shut him in the bathroom.'

‘Did you latch the door very tight, because he won't like that, you know?'

‘No, sir, I've done just what you said.'

Tommy went upstairs. Mr Crispin came just behind him. Tommy gave a little tap on the bedroom door and then went in. From the bathroom door Hannibal gave one more outspoken bark of defiance, then he leapt at the door from the inside, the latch gave, he shot out into the room. He gave one quick glance at Mr Crispin, then came forward and lunged with all his might, growling furiously, at Miss Mullins.

‘Oh dear,' said Tuppence, ‘oh dear.'

‘Good boy, Hannibal,' said Tommy, ‘good boy. Don't you think so?'

He turned his head to Mr Crispin.

‘Knows his enemies, doesn't he–and your enemies.'

‘Oh dear,' said Tuppence. ‘Has Hannibal bitten you?'

‘A very nasty nip,' said Miss Mullins, rising to her feet and scowling at Hannibal.

‘His second one, isn't it?' said Tommy. ‘Chased you out of our pampas grass, didn't he?'

‘He knows what's what,' said Mr Crispin. ‘Doesn't he, Dodo, my dear? Long time since I've seen you, Dodo, isn't it?'

Miss Mullins got up, shot a glance at Tuppence, at Tommy and at Mr Crispin.

‘Mullins,' said Mr Crispin. ‘Sorry I'm not up to date. Is that a married name or are you now known as Miss Mullins?'

‘I am Iris Mullins, as I always was.'

‘Ah, I thought you were Dodo. You used to be Dodo to me. Well, dear, I think–nice to have seen you, but I think we'd better get out of here quickly. Drink your coffee. I expect that's all right. Mrs Beresford? I'm very pleased to meet you. If I might advise you, I shouldn't drink
your
coffee.'

‘Oh dear, let me take the cup away.'

Miss Mullins pressed forward. In a moment Crispin stood between her and Tuppence.

‘No, Dodo dear, I wouldn't do that,' he said. ‘I'd rather have charge of it myself. The cup belongs to
the house, you know, and of course it would be nice to have an analysis of exactly what's in it just now. Possibly you brought a little dose with you, did you? Quite easy to put a little dose into the cup as you're handing it to the invalid or the supposed invalid.'

‘I assure you I did no such thing. Oh, do call your dog off.'

Hannibal showed every desire to pursue her down the staircase.

‘He wants to see you off the premises,' said Tommy. ‘He's rather particular about that. He likes biting people who are going out through the front door. Ah, Albert, there you are. I thought you'd be just outside the other door. Did you see what happened, by any chance?'

Albert put his head round the dressing-room door across the room.

‘I saw all right. I watched her through the crack of the hinge. Yes. Put something in the missus's cup, she did. Very neat. Good as a conjuror, but she did it all right.'

‘I don't know what you mean,' said Miss Mullins. ‘I–oh dear, oh dear, I must go. I've got an appointment. It's very important.'

She shot out of the room and down the stairs. Hannibal gave one glance and went after her. Mr Crispin showed no sign of animosity, but he too left hurriedly in pursuit.

‘I hope she's a good runner,' said Tuppence, ‘because if she isn't Hannibal will catch up with her. My word, he's a good guard dog, isn't he?'

‘Tuppence, that was Mr Crispin, sent us by Mr Solomon. Came at a very good moment, didn't he? I think he's been waiting his time to see what might be going to happen. Don't break that cup and don't pour any of that coffee away until we've got a bottle or something to put it in. It's going to be analysed and we're going to find out what's in it. Put your best dressing-gown on, Tuppence, and come down to the sitting-room and we'll have some drinks there before lunch.'

II

‘And now, I suppose,' said Tuppence, ‘we shall never know what any of it means or what it is all about.'

She shook her head in deep despondency. Rising from her chair, she went towards the fireplace.

‘Are you trying to put a log on?' said Tommy. ‘Let me. You've been told not to move about much.'

‘My arm's quite all right now,' said Tuppence. ‘Anyone would think I'd broken it or something. It was only a nasty scrape or graze.'

‘You have more to boast about than that,' said
Tommy. ‘It was definitely a bullet wound. You have been wounded in war.'

‘War it seems to have been all right,' said Tuppence. ‘Really!'

‘Never mind,' said Tommy, ‘we dealt with the Mullins very well, I think.'

‘Hannibal,' said Tuppence, ‘was a very good dog there, wasn't he?'

‘Yes,' said Tommy, ‘he told us. Told us very definitely. He just leapt for that pampas grass. His nose told him, I suppose. He's got a wonderful nose.'

‘I can't say my nose warned me,' said Tuppence. ‘I just thought she was rather an answer to prayer, turning up. And I quite forgot we were only supposed to take someone who had worked for Mr Solomon. Did Mr Crispin tell you anything more? I suppose his name isn't really Crispin.'

‘Possibly not,' said Tommy.

‘Did he come to do some sleuthing too? Too many of us here, I should say.'

‘No,' said Tommy, ‘not exactly a sleuth. I think he was sent for security purposes. To look after you.'

‘To look after me,' said Tuppence, ‘and you, I should say. Where is he now?'

‘Dealing with Miss Mullins, I expect.'

‘Yes, well, it's extraordinary how hungry these excitements make one. Quite peckish, as one might say. Do
you know, there's nothing I can imagine I'd like to eat more than a nice hot crab with a sauce made of cream with just a touch of curry powder.'

‘You're well again,' said Tommy. ‘I'm delighted to hear you feeling like that about food.'

‘I've never been ill,' said Tuppence. ‘I've been wounded. That's quite different.'

‘Well,' said Tommy, ‘anyway you must have realized as I did that when Hannibal let go all out and told you an enemy was close at hand in the pampas grass, you must have realized that Miss Mullins was the person who, dressed as a man, hid there and shot at you–'

‘But then,' said Tuppence, ‘we thought that she'd have another go. I was immured with my wound in bed and we made our arrangements. Isn't that right, Tommy?'

‘Quite right,' said Tommy, ‘quite right. I thought probably she wouldn't leave it too long to come to the conclusion that one of her bullets had taken effect and that you'd be laid up in bed.'

‘So she came along full of feminine solicitude,' said Tuppence.

‘And our arrangement was very good, I thought,' said Tommy. ‘There was Albert on permanent guard, watching every step she took, every single thing she did–'

‘And also,' said Tuppence, ‘bringing me up on a
tray a cup of coffee and adding another cup for the visitor.'

‘Did you see Mullins–or Dodo, as Crispin called her–put anything in your cup of coffee?'

‘No,' said Tuppence, ‘I must admit that I didn't. You see, she seemed to catch her foot in something and she knocked over that little table with our nice vase on it, made a great deal of apology, and my eye of course was on the broken vase and whether it was too bad to mend. So I didn't see her.'

‘Albert did,' said Tommy. ‘Saw it through the hinge where he'd enlarged it a crack so that he could look through.'

‘And then it was a very good idea to put Hannibal in confinement in the bathroom but leaving the door only half latched because, as we know, Hannibal is very good at opening doors. Not of course if they're completely latched, but if they only look latched or feel latched he takes one great spring and comes in like a–oh, like a Bengal tiger.'

‘Yes,' said Tommy, ‘that is quite a good description.'

‘And now I suppose Mr Crispin or whatever his name is has finished making his enquiries, although how he thinks Miss Mullins can be connected with Mary Jordan, or with a dangerous figure like Jonathan Kane who only exists in the past–'

‘I don't think he only exists in the past. I think there may be a new edition of him, a re-birth, as you might say. There are a lot of young members, lovers of violence, violence at any price, the merry muggers society if there's anything called that, and the super-fascists regretting the splendid days of Hitler and his merry group.'

‘I've just been reading
Count Hannibal
,' said Tuppence. ‘Stanley Weyman. One of his best. It was among the Alexander books upstairs.'

‘What about it?'

‘Well, I was thinking that nowadays it's really still like that. And probably always has been. All the poor children who went off to the Children's Crusade so full of joy and pleasure and vanity, poor little souls. Thinking they'd been appointed by the Lord to deliver Jerusalem, that the seas would part in front of them so that they could walk across, as Moses did in the Bible. And now all these pretty girls and young men who appear in courts the whole time, because they've smashed down some wretched old age pensioner or elderly person who had just got a little money or something in the bank. And there was St Bartholomew's Massacre. You see, all these things
do
happen again. Even the new fascists were mentioned the other day in connection with a perfectly respectable university. Ah well, I suppose nobody will ever really tell us anything.
Do you really think that Mr Crispin will find out something more about a hiding-place that nobody's yet discovered? Cisterns. You know, bank robberies. They often hid things in cisterns. Very damp place, I should have thought, to hide something. Do you think when he's finished making his enquiries or whatever it is, he'll come back here and continue looking after me–and you, Tommy?'