The Secret Adversary
“I am directed by--Mr. Brown, to place the summaries of the reports
from the different unions before you. That of the miners is most
satisfactory. We must hold back the railways. There may be trouble with
the A.S.E.”
For a long time there was a silence, broken only by the rustle of papers
and an occasional word of explanation from the German. Then Tommy heard
the light tap-tap of fingers, drumming on the table.
“And--the date, my friend?” said Number One.
“The 29th.”
The Russian seemed to consider:
“That is rather soon.”
“I know. But it was settled by the principal Labour leaders, and we
cannot seem to interfere too much. They must believe it to be entirely
their own show.”
The Russian laughed softly, as though amused.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “That is true. They must have no inkling that we
are using them for our own ends. They are honest men--and that is their
value to us. It is curious--but you cannot make a revolution without
honest men. The instinct of the populace is infallible.” He paused, and
then repeated, as though the phrase pleased him: “Every revolution has
had its honest men. They are soon disposed of afterwards.”
There was a sinister note in his voice.
The German resumed:
“Clymes must go. He is too far-seeing. Number Fourteen will see to
that.”
There was a hoarse murmur.
“That’s all right, gov’nor.” And then after a moment or two: “Suppose
I’m nabbed.”
“You will have the best legal talent to defend you,” replied the
German quietly. “But in any case you will wear gloves fitted with the
finger-prints of a notorious housebreaker. You have little to fear.”
“Oh, I ain’t afraid, gov’nor. All for the good of the cause. The streets
is going to run with blood, so they say.” He spoke with a grim relish.
“Dreams of it, sometimes, I does. And diamonds and pearls rolling about
in the gutter for anyone to pick up!”
Tommy heard a chair shifted. Then Number One spoke:
“Then all is arranged. We are assured of success?”
“I--think so.” But the German spoke with less than his usual confidence.
Number One’s voice held suddenly a dangerous quality:
“What has gone wrong?”
“Nothing; but----”
“But what?”
“The Labour leaders. Without them, as you say, we can do nothing. If
they do not declare a general strike on the 29th----”
“Why should they not?”
“As you’ve said, they’re honest. And, in spite of everything we’ve
done to discredit the Government in their eyes, I’m not sure that they
haven’t got a sneaking faith and belief in it.”
“But----”
“I know. They abuse it unceasingly. But, on the whole, public opinion
swings to the side of the Government. They will not go against it.”
Again the Russian’s fingers drummed on the table.
“To the point, my friend. I was given to understand that there was a
certain document in existence which assured success.”
“That is so. If that document were placed before the leaders, the result
would be immediate. They would publish it broadcast throughout England,
and declare for the revolution without a moment’s hesitation. The
Government would be broken finally and completely.”
“Then what more do you want?”
“The document itself,” said the German bluntly.
“Ah! It is not in your possession? But you know where it is?”
“No.”
“Does anyone know where it is?”
“One person--perhaps. And we are not sure of that even.”
“Who is this person?”
“A girl.”
Tommy held his breath.
“A girl?” The Russian’s voice rose contemptuously. “And you have not
made her speak? In Russia we have ways of making a girl talk.”
“This case is different,” said the German sullenly.
“How--different?” He paused a moment, then went on: “Where is the girl
now?”
“The girl?”
“Yes.”
“She is----”
But Tommy heard no more. A crashing blow descended on his head, and all
was darkness.
CHAPTER IX. TUPPENCE ENTERS DOMESTIC SERVICE
WHEN Tommy set forth on the trail of the two men, it took all Tuppence’s
self-command to refrain from accompanying him. However, she contained
herself as best she might, consoled by the reflection that her reasoning
had been justified by events. The two men had undoubtedly come from the
second floor flat, and that one slender thread of the name “Rita” had
set the Young Adventurers once more upon the track of the abductors of
Jane Finn.
The question was what to do next? Tuppence hated letting the grass grow
under her feet. Tommy was amply employed, and debarred from joining him
in the chase, the girl felt at a loose end. She retraced her steps
to the entrance hall of the mansions. It was now tenanted by a small
lift-boy, who was polishing brass fittings, and whistling the latest air
with a good deal of vigour and a reasonable amount of accuracy.
He glanced round at Tuppence’s entry. There was a certain amount of the
gamin element in the girl, at all events she invariably got on well
with small boys. A sympathetic bond seemed instantly to be formed. She
reflected that an ally in the enemy’s camp, so to speak, was not to be
despised.
“Well, William,” she remarked cheerfully, in the best approved
hospital-early-morning style, “getting a good shine up?”
The boy grinned responsively.
“Albert, miss,” he corrected.
“Albert be it,” said Tuppence. She glanced mysteriously round the hall.
The effect was purposely a broad one in case Albert should miss it. She
leaned towards the boy and dropped her voice: “I want a word with you,
Albert.”
Albert ceased operations on the fittings and opened his mouth slightly.
“Look! Do you know what this is?” With a dramatic gesture she flung back
the left side of her coat and exposed a small enamelled badge. It was
extremely unlikely that Albert would have any knowledge of it--indeed,
it would have been fatal for Tuppence’s plans, since the badge in
question was the device of a local training corps originated by the
archdeacon in the early days of the war. Its presence in Tuppence’s coat
was due to the fact that she had used it for pinning in some flowers a
day or two before. But Tuppence had sharp eyes, and had noted the corner
of a threepenny detective novel protruding from Albert’s pocket, and the
immediate enlargement of his eyes told her that her tactics were good,
and that the fish would rise to the bait.
“American Detective Force!” she hissed.
Albert fell for it.
“Lord!” he murmured ecstatically.
Tuppence nodded at him with the air of one who has established a
thorough understanding.
“Know who I’m after?” she inquired genially.
Albert, still round-eyed, demanded breathlessly:
“One of the flats?”
Tuppence nodded and jerked a thumb up the stairs.
“No. 20. Calls herself Vandemeyer. Vandemeyer! Ha! ha!”
Albert’s hand stole to his pocket.
“A crook?” he queried eagerly.
“A crook? I should say so. Ready Rita they call her in the States.”
“Ready Rita,” repeated Albert deliriously. “Oh, ain’t it just like the
pictures!”
It was. Tuppence was a great frequenter of the cinema.
“Annie always said as how she was a bad lot,” continued the boy.
“Who’s Annie?” inquired Tuppence idly.
“‘Ouse-parlourmaid. She’s leaving to-day. Many’s the time Annie’s said
to me: ‘Mark my words, Albert, I wouldn’t wonder if the police was to
come after her one of these days.’ Just like that. But she’s a stunner
to look at, ain’t she?”
“She’s some peach,” allowed Tuppence carelessly. “Finds it useful in her
lay-out, you bet. Has she been wearing any of the emeralds, by the way?”
“Emeralds? Them’s the green stones, isn’t they?”
Tuppence nodded.
“That’s what we’re after her for. You know old man Rysdale?”
Albert shook his head.
“Peter B. Rysdale, the oil king?”
“It seems sort of familiar to me.”
“The sparklers belonged to him. Finest collection of emeralds in the
world. Worth a million dollars!”
“Lumme!” came ecstatically from Albert. “It sounds more like the
pictures every minute.”
Tuppence smiled, gratified at the success of her efforts.
“We haven’t exactly proved it yet. But we’re after her. And”--she
produced a long-drawn-out wink--“I guess she won’t get away with the
goods this time.”
Albert uttered another ejaculation indicative of delight.
“Mind you, sonny, not a word of this,” said Tuppence suddenly. “I guess
I oughtn’t to have put you wise, but in the States we know a real smart
lad when we see one.”
“I’ll not breathe a word,” protested Albert eagerly. “Ain’t there
anything I could do? A bit of shadowing, maybe, or such like?”
Tuppence affected to consider, then shook her head.
“Not at the moment, but I’ll bear you in mind, son. What’s this about
the girl you say is leaving?”
“Annie? Regular turn up, they ‘ad. As Annie said, servants is some one
nowadays, and to be treated accordingly, and, what with her passing the
word round, she won’t find it so easy to get another.”
“Won’t she?” said Tuppence thoughtfully. “I wonder----”
An idea was dawning in her brain. She thought a minute or two, then
tapped Albert on the shoulder.
“See here, son, my brain’s got busy. How would it be if you mentioned
that you’d got a young cousin, or a friend of yours had, that might suit
the place. You get me?”
“I’m there,” said Albert instantly. “You leave it to me, miss, and I’ll
fix the whole thing up in two ticks.”
“Some lad!” commented Tuppence, with a nod of approval. “You might say
that the young woman could come in right away. You let me know, and if
it’s O.K. I’ll be round to-morrow at eleven o’clock.”
“Where am I to let you know to?”
“_Ritz_,” replied Tuppence laconically. “Name of Cowley.”
Albert eyed her enviously.
“It must be a good job, this tec business.”
“It sure is,” drawled Tuppence, “especially when old man Rysdale backs
the bill. But don’t fret, son. If this goes well, you shall come in on
the ground floor.”
With which promise she took leave of her new ally, and walked briskly
away from South Audley Mansions, well pleased with her morning’s work.
But there was no time to be lost. She went straight back to the _Ritz_
and wrote a few brief words to Mr. Carter. Having dispatched this, and
Tommy not having yet returned--which did not surprise her--she started
off on a shopping expedition which, with an interval for tea and
assorted creamy cakes, occupied her until well after six o’clock, and
she returned to the hotel jaded, but satisfied with her purchases.
Starting with a cheap clothing store, and passing through one or two
second-hand establishments, she had finished the day at a well-known
hairdresser’s. Now, in the seclusion of her bedroom, she unwrapped
that final purchase. Five minutes later she smiled contentedly at her
reflection in the glass. With an actress’s pencil she had slightly
altered the line of her eyebrows, and that, taken in conjunction with
the new luxuriant growth of fair hair above, so changed her appearance
that she felt confident that even if she came face to face with
Whittington he would not recognize her. She would wear elevators in her
shoes, and the cap and apron would be an even more valuable disguise.
From hospital experience she knew only too well that a nurse out of
uniform is frequently unrecognized by her patients.
“Yes,” said Tuppence aloud, nodding at the pert reflection in the glass,
“you’ll do.” She then resumed her normal appearance.
Dinner was a solitary meal. Tuppence was rather surprised at Tommy’s
non-return. Julius, too, was absent--but that to the girl’s mind was
more easily explained. His “hustling” activities were not confined
to London, and his abrupt appearances and disappearances were fully
accepted by the Young Adventurers as part of the day’s work. It
was quite on the cards that Julius P. Hersheimmer had left for
Constantinople at a moment’s notice if he fancied that a clue to his