The Secret Adversary. Агата Кристи

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      ‘Not exactly. We’ve got plenty to go on with for the present, but when we want more—’

      ‘It will be waiting for you.’

      ‘Yes, but—I’m sure I don’t want to be rude about the Government if you’ve got anything to do with it, but you know one really has the devil of a time getting anything out of it! And if we have to fill up a blue form and send it in, and then, after three months, they send us a green one, and so on—well, that won’t be much use, will it?’

      Mr Carter laughed outright.

      ‘Don’t worry, Miss Tuppence. You will send a personal demand to me here, and the money, in notes, shall be sent by return of post. As to salary, shall we say at the rate of three hundred a year? And an equal sum for Mr Beresford, of course.’

      Tuppence beamed upon him.

      ‘How lovely. You are kind. I do love money! I’ll keep beautiful accounts of our expenses—all debit and credit, and the balance on the right side, and a red line drawn sideways with the totals the same at the bottom. I really know how to do it when I think.’

      ‘I’m sure you do. Well, goodbye, and good luck to you both.’

      He shook hands with them and in another minute they were descending the steps of 27 Carshalton Terrace with their heads in a whirl.

      ‘Tommy! Tell me at once, who is “Mr Carter”?’

      Tommy murmured a name in her ear.

      ‘Oh!’ said Tuppence, impressed.

      ‘And I can tell you, old bean, he’s IT!’

      ‘Oh!’ said Tuppence again. Then she added reflectively: ‘I like him, don’t you? He looks so awfully tired and bored, and yet you feel that underneath he’s just like steel, all keen and flashing. Oh!’ She gave a skip. ‘Pinch me, Tommy, do pinch me. I can’t believe it’s real!’

      Mr Beresford obliged.

      ‘Ow! That’s enough! Yes, we’re not dreaming. We’ve got a job!’

      ‘And what a job! The joint venture has really begun.’

      ‘It’s more respectable than I thought it would be,’ said Tuppence thoughtfully.

      ‘Luckily I haven’t got your craving for crime! What time is it? Let’s have lunch—oh!’

      The same thought sprang to the minds of each. Tommy voiced it first.

      ‘Julius P. Hersheimmer!’

      ‘We never told Mr Carter about hearing from him.’

      ‘Well, there wasn’t much to tell—not till we’ve seen him. Come on, we’d better take a taxi.’

      ‘Now who’s being extravagant?’

      ‘All expenses paid, remember. Hop in.’

      ‘At any rate, we shall make a better effect arriving this way,’ said Tuppence, leaning back luxuriously. ‘I’m sure blackmailers never arrive in buses!’

      ‘We’ve ceased being blackmailers,’ Tommy pointed out.

      ‘I’m not sure I have,’ said Tuppence darkly.

      On inquiring for Mr Hersheimmer, they were at once taken up to his suite. An impatient voice cried ‘Come in’ in answer to the page-boy’s knock, and the lad stood aside to let them pass in.

      Mr Julius P. Hersheimmer was a great deal younger than either Tommy or Tuppence had pictured him. The girl put him down as thirty-five. He was of middle height, and squarely built to match his jaw. His face was pugnacious but pleasant. No one could have mistaken him for anything but an American, though he spoke with very little accent.

      ‘Get my note?’ Sit down and tell me right away all you know about my cousin.’

      ‘Your cousin?’

      ‘Sure thing. Jane Finn.’

      ‘Is she your cousin?’

      ‘My father and her mother were brother and sister,’ explained Mr Hersheimmer meticulously.

      ‘Oh!’ cried Tuppence. ‘Then you know where she is?’

      ‘No!’ Mr Hersheimmer brought down his fist with a bang on the table. ‘I’m darned if I do! Don’t you?’

      ‘We advertised to receive information, not to give it,’ said Tuppence severely.

      ‘I guess I know that. I can read. But I thought maybe it was her back history you were after, and that you’d know where she was now?’

      ‘Well, we wouldn’t mind hearing her back history,’ said Tuppence guardedly.

      But Mr Hersheimmer seemed to grow suddenly suspicious.

      ‘See here,’ he declared. ‘This isn’t Sicily! No demanding ransom or threatening to crop her ears if I refuse. These are the British Isles, so quit the funny business, or I’ll just sing out for that beautiful big British policeman I see out there in Piccadilly.’

      Tommy hastened to explain.

      ‘We haven’t kidnapped your cousin. On the contrary, we’re trying to find her. We’re employed to do so.’

      Mr Hersheimmer leant back in his chair.

      ‘Put me wise,’ he said succinctly.

      Tommy fell in with this demand in so far as he gave him a guarded version of the disappearance of Jane Finn, and of the possibility of her having been mixed up unawares in ‘some political show.’ He alluded to Tuppence and himself as ‘private inquiry agents’ commissioned to find her, and added that they would therefore be glad of any details Mr Hersheimmer could give them.

      That gentleman nodded approval.

      ‘I guess that’s all right. I was just a mite hasty. But London gets my goat! I only know little old New York. Just trot out your questions and I’ll answer.’

      For the moment this paralysed the Young Adventurers, but Tuppence, recovering herself, plunged boldly into the breach with a reminiscence culled from detective fiction.

      ‘When did you last see the dece—your cousin, I mean?’

      ‘Never seen her,’ responded Mr Hersheimmer.

      ‘What?’ demanded Tommy astonished.

      Hersheimmer turned to him.

      ‘No, sir. As I said before, my father and her mother were brother and sister, just as you might be’—Tommy did not correct this view of their relationship—‘but they didn’t always get on together. And when my aunt made up her mind to marry Amos Finn, who was a poor school teacher out West, my father was just mad! Said if he made his pile, as he seemed in a fair СКАЧАТЬ