The Secret Adversary
forbore to cross her legs, set a guard upon her tongue, and steadfastly
refused to smoke.
Dr. Hall came next, and he was followed by the American Ambassador.
“We might as well sit down,” said Julius, when he had introduced all his
guests to each other. “Tuppence, will you----”
He indicated the place of honour with a wave of his hand.
But Tuppence shook her head.
“No--that’s Jane’s place! When one thinks of how she’s held out all
these years, she ought to be made the queen of the feast to-night.”
Julius flung her a grateful glance, and Jane came forward shyly to the
allotted seat. Beautiful as she had seemed before, it was as nothing to
the loveliness that now went fully adorned. Tuppence had performed her
part faithfully. The model gown supplied by a famous dressmaker had been
entitled “A tiger lily.” It was all golds and reds and browns, and out
of it rose the pure column of the girl’s white throat, and the bronze
masses of hair that crowned her lovely head. There was admiration in
every eye, as she took her seat.
Soon the supper party was in full swing, and with one accord Tommy was
called upon for a full and complete explanation.
“You’ve been too darned close about the whole business,” Julius accused
him. “You let on to me that you were off to the Argentine--though I
guess you had your reasons for that. The idea of both you and Tuppence
casting me for the part of Mr. Brown just tickles me to death!”
“The idea was not original to them,” said Mr. Carter gravely. “It was
suggested, and the poison very carefully instilled, by a past-master in
the art. The paragraph in the New York paper suggested the plan to him,
and by means of it he wove a web that nearly enmeshed you fatally.”
“I never liked him,” said Julius. “I felt from the first that there was
something wrong about him, and I always suspected that it was he who
silenced Mrs. Vandemeyer so appositely. But it wasn’t till I heard that
the order for Tommy’s execution came right on the heels of our interview
with him that Sunday that I began to tumble to the fact that he was the
big bug himself.”
“I never suspected it at all,” lamented Tuppence. “I’ve always thought
I was so much cleverer than Tommy--but he’s undoubtedly scored over me
handsomely.”
Julius agreed.
“Tommy’s been the goods this trip! And, instead of sitting there as dumb
as a fish, let him banish his blushes, and tell us all about it.”
“Hear! hear!”
“There’s nothing to tell,” said Tommy, acutely uncomfortable. “I was an
awful mug--right up to the time I found that photograph of Annette, and
realized that she was Jane Finn. Then I remembered how persistently she
had shouted out that word ‘Marguerite’--and I thought of the pictures,
and--well, that’s that. Then of course I went over the whole thing to
see where I’d made an ass of myself.”
“Go on,” said Mr. Carter, as Tommy showed signs of taking refuge in
silence once more.
“That business about Mrs. Vandemeyer had worried me when Julius told me
about it. On the face of it, it seemed that he or Sir James must have
done the trick. But I didn’t know which. Finding that photograph in the
drawer, after that story of how it had been got from him by Inspector
Brown, made me suspect Julius. Then I remembered that it was Sir James
who had discovered the false Jane Finn. In the end, I couldn’t make up
my mind--and just decided to take no chances either way. I left a note
for Julius, in case he was Mr. Brown, saying I was off to the Argentine,
and I dropped Sir James’s letter with the offer of the job by the desk
so that he would see it was a genuine stunt. Then I wrote my letter to
Mr. Carter and rang up Sir James. Taking him into my confidence would
be the best thing either way, so I told him everything except where I
believed the papers to be hidden. The way he helped me to get on the
track of Tuppence and Annette almost disarmed me, but not quite. I kept
my mind open between the two of them. And then I got a bogus note from
Tuppence--and I knew!”
“But how?”
Tommy took the note in question from his pocket and passed it round the
table.
“It’s her handwriting all right, but I knew it wasn’t from her because
of the signature. She’d never spell her name ‘Twopence,’ but anyone
who’d never seen it written might quite easily do so. Julius _had_ seen
it--he showed me a note of hers to him once--but _Sir James hadn’t!_
After that everything was plain sailing. I sent off Albert post-haste to
Mr. Carter. I pretended to go away, but doubled back again. When Julius
came bursting up in his car, I felt it wasn’t part of Mr. Brown’s
plan--and that there would probably be trouble. Unless Sir James was
actually caught in the act, so to speak, I knew Mr. Carter would never
believe it of him on my bare word----”
“I didn’t,” interposed Mr. Carter ruefully.
“That’s why I sent the girls off to Sir James. I was sure they’d fetch
up at the house in Soho sooner or later. I threatened Julius with the
revolver, because I wanted Tuppence to repeat that to Sir James, so that
he wouldn’t worry about us. The moment the girls were out of sight I
told Julius to drive like hell for London, and as we went along I told
him the whole story. We got to the Soho house in plenty of time and met
Mr. Carter outside. After arranging things with him we went in and hid
behind the curtain in the recess. The policemen had orders to say, if
they were asked, that no one had gone into the house. That’s all.”
And Tommy came to an abrupt halt.
There was silence for a moment.
“By the way,” said Julius suddenly, “you’re all wrong about that
photograph of Jane. It _was_ taken from me, but I found it again.”
“Where?” cried Tuppence.
“In that little safe on the wall in Mrs. Vandemeyer’s bedroom.”
“I knew you found something,” said Tuppence reproachfully. “To tell you
the truth, that’s what started me off suspecting you. Why didn’t you
say?”
“I guess I was a mite suspicious too. It had been got away from me once,
and I determined I wouldn’t let on I’d got it until a photographer had
made a dozen copies of it!”
“We all kept back something or other,” said Tuppence thoughtfully. “I
suppose secret service work makes you like that!”
In the pause that ensued, Mr. Carter took from his pocket a small shabby
brown book.
“Beresford has just said that I would not have believed Sir James Peel
Edgerton to be guilty unless, so to speak, he was caught in the act.
That is so. Indeed, not until I read the entries in this little book
could I bring myself fully to credit the amazing truth. This book will
pass into the possession of Scotland Yard, but it will never be publicly
exhibited. Sir James’s long association with the law would make it
undesirable. But to you, who know the truth, I propose to read certain
passages which will throw some light on the extraordinary mentality of
this great man.”
He opened the book, and turned the thin pages.
“... It is madness to keep this book. I know that. It is documentary
evidence against me. But I have never shrunk from taking risks. And I
feel an urgent need for self-expression.... The book will only be taken
from my dead body....
“... From an early age I realized that I had exceptional abilities. Only
a fool underestimates his capabilities. My brain power was greatly above
the average. I know that I was born to succeed. My appearance was
the only thing against me. I was quiet and insignificant--utterly
nondescript....
“... When I was a boy I heard a famous murder trial. I was deeply
impressed by the power and eloquence of the counsel for the defence.
For the first time I entertained the idea of taking my talents to that
particular market.... Then I studied the criminal in the dock.... The
man was a fool--he had been incredibly, unbelievably stupid. Even
the eloquence of his counsel was hardly likely to save him. I felt
an immeasurable contempt for him.... Then it occurred to me that the
criminal standard was a low one. It was the wastrels, the failures, the
general riff-raff of civilization who drifted into crime....
Strange that men of brains had never realized its extraordinary
opportunities.... I played with the idea.... What a magnificent
field--what unlimited possibilities! It made my brain reel....
“... I read standard works on crime and criminals. They all confirmed my
opinion. Degeneracy, disease--never the deliberate embracing of a career
by a far-seeing man. Then I considered. Supposing my utmost ambitions
were realized--that I was called to the bar, and rose to the height of
my profession? That I entered politics--say, even, that I became Prime
Minister of England? What then? Was that power? Hampered at every turn
by my colleagues, fettered by the democratic system of which I should
be the mere figurehead! No--the power I dreamed of was absolute! An
autocrat! A dictator! And such power could only be obtained by working
outside the law. To play on the weaknesses of human nature, then on the
weaknesses of nations--to get together and control a vast organization,
and finally to overthrow the existing order, and rule! The thought
intoxicated me....
“... I saw that I must lead two lives. A man like myself is bound to
attract notice. I must have a successful career which would mask my true
activities.... Also I must cultivate a personality. I modelled myself
upon famous K.C.’s. I reproduced their mannerisms, their magnetism. If I
had chosen to be an actor, I should have been the greatest actor living!
No disguises--no grease paint--no false beards! Personality! I put it
on like a glove! When I shed it, I was myself, quiet, unobtrusive, a man
like every other man. I called myself Mr. Brown. There are hundreds of
men called Brown--there are hundreds of men looking just like me....
“... I succeeded in my false career. I was bound to succeed. I shall
succeed in the other. A man like me cannot fail....
“... I have been reading a life of Napoleon. He and I have much in
common....
“... I make a practice of defending criminals. A man should look after
his own people....
“... Once or twice I have felt afraid. The first time was in Italy.
There was a dinner given. Professor D----, the great alienist, was
present. The talk fell on insanity. He said, ‘A great many men are
mad, and no one knows it. They do not know it themselves.’ I do not
understand why he looked at me when he said that. His glance was
strange.... I did not like it....
“... The war has disturbed me.... I thought it would further my plans.
The Germans are so efficient. Their spy system, too, was excellent.
The streets are full of these boys in khaki. All empty-headed young
fools.... Yet I do not know.... They won the war.... It disturbs me....
“... My plans are going well.... A girl butted in--I do not think she
really knew anything.... But we must give up the Esthonia.... No risks
now....
“.... All goes well. The loss of memory is vexing. It cannot be a fake.
No girl could deceive ME!...
“...The 29th.... That is very soon....” Mr. Carter paused.
“I will not read the details of the _coup_ that was planned. But there
are just two small entries that refer to the three of you. In the light
of what happened they are interesting.
“... By inducing the girl to come to me of her own accord, I have
succeeded in disarming her. But she has intuitive flashes that might be
dangerous.... She must be got out of the way.... I can do nothing with
the American. He suspects and dislikes me. But he cannot know. I fancy
my armour is impregnable.... Sometimes I fear I have underestimated
the other boy. He is not clever, but it is hard to blind his eyes to
facts....”
Mr. Carter shut the book.
“A great man,” he said. “Genius, or insanity, who can say?”
There was silence.
Then Mr. Carter rose to his feet.