The Complete Tommy and Tuppence 5-Book Collection. Agatha Christie

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СКАЧАТЬ better for the fresh air and exercise. It was not so easy to follow Sir James’s advice and put the possible events of the evening out of her head. As she drew nearer and nearer to Hyde Park corner, the temptation 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 waiting patiently for ten o’clock.

      South Audley Mansions looked exactly the same as usual. What Tuppence had expected she hardly knew, but the sight of its red brick solidity slightly assuaged the growing and entirely unreasonable uneasiness that possessed her. She was just turning away when she heard a piercing whistle, and the faithful Albert came running from the building to join her.

      Tuppence frowned. It was no part of the programme to have attention called to her presence in the neighbourhood, but Albert was purple with suppressed 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’s just 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 you we’d have lost her.’

      Albert flushed with pleasure at this tribute.

      ‘There’s no time to lose,’ said Tuppence, crossing the road. ‘I’ve got to 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 the corner.’

      ‘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 at 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, and tell 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 entered the Mansions and ran up to the door of No. 20. How she was to detain Mrs Vandemeyer until the two men arrived, she did not know, but somehow or other it had to be done, and she must accomplish the task single-handed. What had occasioned this precipitate departure? Did Mrs Vandemeyer suspect her?

      Speculations were idle. Tuppence pressed the bell firmly. She might learn something from the cook.

      Nothing happened and, after waiting some minutes, Tuppence pressed the bell again, keeping her finger on the button for some little while. At last she heard footsteps inside, and a moment later Mrs Vandemeyer herself opened the door. She lifted her eyebrows at the sight of the girl.

      ‘You?’

      ‘I had a touch of toothache, ma’am,’ said Tuppence glibly. ‘So thought it better to come home and have a quiet evening.’

      Mrs Vandemeyer said nothing, but she drew back and let Tuppence pass into 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. ‘I sent her out. So you see you had better go to bed.’

      Suddenly Tuppence felt afraid. There was a ring in Mrs Vandemeyer’s voice that she did not like at all. Also, the other woman was slowly edging 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. If you 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. In a 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 Tuppence did not at all like. For the moment there was nothing to be done, and she walked obediently into Mrs Vandemeyer’s bedroom. The pistol never left her forehead. The room was in a state of wild disorder, clothes were 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 a little, 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 you don’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 suspicion of you! So I’ve no doubt that you understand perfectly well that this is where I’m on top and you’re underneath. Now then – sit on the bed. Put your hands above your head, and if you value your life don’t move them.’

      Tuppence obeyed passively. Her good sense told her that there was nothing else to do but accept the situation. If she shrieked for help there was very little chance of anyone hearing her, whereas there was probably quite a good chance of Mrs Vandemeyer’s shooting her. In the meantime, every minute of delay gained was valuable.

      Mrs Vandemeyer laid down the revolver on the edge of the wash-stand within reach of her hand, and, still eyeing Tuppence like a lynx in case the girl should attempt to move, she took a little stoppered bottle from its place on the marble and poured some of its contents into a glass which 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 be shot. At any rate that would make a row, and someone might hear it. But I won’t be killed off quietly like a lamb.’

      Mrs Vandemeyer stamped her foot.

      ‘Don’t be a little СКАЧАТЬ