The Complete Tommy & Tuppence Collection (26 page)

Tommy blushed, his face assuming a prawn-like hue at the praise.

“I couldn't have got away but for the girl, sir.”

“No.” Sir James smiled a little. “It was lucky for you she happened to—er—take a fancy to you.” Tommy appeared about to protest, but Sir James went on. “There's no doubt about her being one of the gang, I suppose?”

“I'm afraid not, sir. I thought perhaps they were keeping her there by force, but the way she acted didn't fit in with that. You see, she went back to them when she could have got away.”

Sir James nodded thoughtfully.

“What did she say? Something about wanting to be taken to Marguerite?”

“Yes, sir. I suppose she meant Mrs. Vandemeyer.

“She always signed herself Rita Vandemeyer. All her friends spoke of her as Rita. Still, I suppose the girl must have been in the habit of calling her by her full name. And, at the moment she was crying out to her, Mrs. Vandemeyer was either dead or dying! Curious! There are one or two points that strike me as being obscure—their sudden change of attitude towards yourself, for instance. By the way, the house was raided, of course?”

“Yes, sir, but they'd cleared out.”

“Naturally,” said Sir James dryly.

“And not a clue left behind.”

“I wonder—” The lawyer tapped the table thoughtfully.

Something in his voice made Tommy look up. Would this man's eyes have seen something where theirs had been blind? He spoke impulsively:

“I wish you'd been there, sir, to go over the house!”

“I wish I had,” said Sir James quietly. He sat for a moment in silence. Then he looked up. “And since then? What have you been doing?”

For a moment, Tommy stared at him. Then it dawned on him that of course the lawyer did not know.

“I forgot that you didn't know about Tuppence,” he said slowly. The sickening anxiety, forgotten for a while in the excitement of knowing Jane Finn found at last, swept over him again.

The lawyer laid down his knife and fork sharply.

“Has anything happened to Miss Tuppence?” His voice was keen-edged.

“She's disappeared,” said Julius.

“When?”

“A week ago.”

“How?”

Sir James's questions fairly shot out. Between them Tommy and Julius gave the history of the last week and their futile search.

Sir James went at once to the root of the matter.

“A wire signed with your name? They knew enough of you both for that. They weren't sure of how much you had learnt in that house. Their kidnapping of Miss Tuppence is the countermove to your escape. If necessary they could seal your lips with what might happen to her.”

Tommy nodded.

“That's just what I thought, sir.”

Sir James looked at him keenly. “
You
had worked that out, had you? Not bad—not at all bad. The curious thing is that they certainly did not know anything about you when they first held you prisoner. You are sure that you did not in any way disclose your identity?”

Tommy shook his head.

“That's so,” said Julius with a nod. “Therefore I reckon someone put them wise—and not earlier than Sunday afternoon.”

“Yes, but who?”

“That almighty omniscient Mr. Brown, of course!”

There was a faint note of derision in the American's voice which made Sir James look up sharply.

“You don't believe in Mr. Brown, Mr. Hersheimmer?”

“No, sir, I do not,” returned the young American with emphasis. “Not as such, that is to say. I reckon it out that he's a figurehead—just a bogy name to frighten the children with. The real head of this business is that Russian chap Kramenin. I guess he's quite capable of running revolutions in three countries at once if he chose! The man Whittington is probably the head of the English branch.”

“I disagree with you,” said Sir James shortly. “Mr. Brown exists.” He turned to Tommy. “Did you happen to notice where that wire was handed in?”

“No, sir, I'm afraid I didn't.”

“H'm. Got it with you?”

“It's upstairs, sir, in my kit.”

“I'd like to have a look at it sometime. No hurry. You've wasted a week,”—Tommy hung his head—“a day or so more is immaterial. We'll deal with Miss Jane Finn first. Afterwards, we'll set to work to rescue Miss Tuppence from bondage. I don't think she's in any immediate danger. That is, so long as they don't know that we've got Jane Finn, and that her memory has returned. We must keep that dark at all costs. You understand?”

The other two assented, and, after making arrangements for meeting on the morrow, the great lawyer took his leave.

At ten o'clock, the two young men were at the appointed spot. Sir James had joined them on the doorstep. He alone appeared unexcited. He introduced them to the doctor.

“Mr. Hersheimmer—Mr. Beresford—Dr. Roylance. How's the patient?”

“Going on well. Evidently no idea of the flight of time. Asked this morning how many had been saved from the
Lusitania.
Was it in the papers yet? That, of course, was only what was to be expected. She seems to have something on her mind, though.”

“I think we can relieve her anxiety. May we go up?”

“Certainly.”

Tommy's heart beat sensibly faster as they followed the doctor upstairs. Jane Finn at last! The long-sought, the mysterious, the elusive Jane Finn! How wildly improbable success had seemed! And here in this house, her memory almost miraculously restored, lay the girl who held the future of England in her hands. A half groan broke from Tommy's lips. If only Tuppence could have been at his side to share in the triumphant conclusion of their joint venture! Then he put the thought of Tuppence resolutely aside. His confidence in Sir James was growing. There was a man who would unerringly ferret out Tuppence's whereabouts. In the meantime, Jane Finn! And suddenly a dread clutched at his heart. It seemed too easy . . . Suppose they should find her dead . . . stricken down by the hand of Mr. Brown?

In another minute he was laughing at these melodramatic fancies. The doctor held open the door of a room and they passed in. On the white bed, bandages round her head, lay the girl. Somehow the whole scene seemed unreal. It was so exactly what one expected that it gave the effect of being beautifully staged.

The girl looked from one to the other of them with large wondering eyes. Sir James spoke first.

“Miss Finn,” he said, “this is your cousin, Mr. Julius P. Hersheimmer.”

A faint flush flitted over the girl's face, as Julius stepped forward and took her hand.

“How do, Cousin Jane?” he said lightly.

But Tommy caught the tremor in his voice.

“Are you really Uncle Hiram's son?” she asked wonderingly.

Her voice, with the slight warmth of the Western accent, had an almost thrilling quality. It seemed vaguely familiar to Tommy, but he thrust the impression aside as impossible.

“Sure thing.”

“We used to read about Uncle Hiram in the newspapers,” continued the girl, in her soft tones. “But I never thought I'd meet you one day. Mother figured it out that Uncle Hiram would never get over being mad with her.”

“The old man was like that,” admitted Julius. “But I guess the new generation's sort of different. Got no use for the family feud business. First thing I thought about, soon as the war was over, was to come along and hunt you up.”

A shadow passed over the girl's face.

“They've been telling me things—dreadful things—that my memory went, and that there are years I shall never know about—years lost out of my life.”

“You didn't realize that yourself?”

The girl's eyes opened wide.

“Why, no. It seems to me as though it were no time since we were being hustled into those boats. I can see it all now!” She closed her eyes with a shudder.

Julius looked across at Sir James, who nodded.

“Don't worry any. It isn't worth it. Now, see here, Jane, there's something we want to know about. There was a man aboard that boat with some mighty important papers on him, and the big guns in this country have got a notion that he passed on the goods to you. Is that so?”

The girl hesitated, her glance shifting to the other two. Julius understood.

“Mr. Beresford is commissioned by the British Government to get those papers back. Sir James Peel Edgerton is an English Member of Parliament, and might be a big gun in the Cabinet if he liked. It's owing to him that we've ferreted you out at last. So you can go right ahead and tell us the whole story. Did Danvers give you the papers?”

“Yes. He said they'd have a better chance with me, because they would have the women and children first.”

“Just as we thought,” said Sir James.

“He said they were very important—that they might make all the difference to the Allies. But, if it's all so long ago, and the war's over, what does it matter now?”

“I guess history repeats itself, Jane. First there was a great hue and cry over those papers, then it all died down, and now the whole caboodle's started all over again—for rather different reasons. Then you can hand them over to us right away?”

“But I can't.”

“What?”

“I haven't got them.”

“You—haven't—got them?” Julius punctuated the words with little pauses

“No—I hid them.”

“You
hid
them?”

“Yes. I got uneasy. People seemed to be watching me. It scared me—badly.” She put her hand to her head. “It's almost the last thing I remember before waking up in the hospital. . . .”

“Go on,” said Sir James, in his quiet penetrating tones. “What do you remember?”

She turned to him obediently.

“It was at Holyhead. I came that way—I don't remember why. . . .”

“That doesn't matter. Go on.”

“In the confusion on the quay I slipped away. Nobody saw me. I took a car. Told the man to drive me out of the town. I watched when we got on the open road. No other car was following us. I saw a path at the side of the road. I told the man to wait.”

She paused, then went on. “The path led to the cliff, and down to the sea between big yellow gorse bushes—they were like golden flames. I looked round. There wasn't a soul in sight. But just level with my head there was a hole in the rock. It was quite small—I could only just get my hand in, but it went a long way back. I took the oilskin packet from round my neck and shoved it right in as far as I could. Then I tore off a bit of gorse—My! but it did prick—and plugged the hole with it so that you'd never guess there was a crevice of any kind there. Then I marked the place carefully in my own mind, so that I'd find it again. There was a queer boulder in the path just there—for all the world like a dog sitting up begging. Then I went back to the road. The car was waiting, and I drove back. I just caught the train. I was a bit ashamed of myself for fancying things maybe, but, by and by, I saw the man opposite me wink at a woman who was sitting next to me, and I felt scared again, and was glad the papers were safe. I went out in the corridor to get a little air. I thought I'd slip into another carriage. But the woman called me back, said I'd dropped something, and when I stooped to look, something seemed to hit me—here.” She placed her hand to the back of her head. “I don't remember anything more until I woke up in the hospital.”

There was a pause.

“Thank you, Miss Finn.” It was Sir James who spoke. “I hope we have not tired you?”

“Oh, that's all right. My head aches a little, but otherwise I feel fine.”

Julius stepped forward and took her hand again.

“So long, Cousin Jane. I'm going to get busy after those papers, but I'll be back in two shakes of a dog's tail, and I'll tote you up to London and give you the time of your young life before we go back to the States! I mean it—so hurry up and get well.”

Twenty

T
OO
L
ATE

I
n the street they held an informal council of war. Sir James had drawn a watch from his pocket.

“The boat train to Holyhead stops at Chester at 12:14. If you start at once I think you can catch the connexion.”

Tommy looked up, puzzled.

“Is there any need to hurry, sir? Today is only the 24th.”

“I guess it's always well to get up early in the morning,” said Julius, before the lawyer had time to reply. “We'll make tracks for the depot right away.”

A little frown had settled on Sir James's brow.

“I wish I could come with you. I am due to speak at a meeting at two o'clock. It is unfortunate.”

The reluctance in his tone was very evident. It was clear, on the other hand, that Julius was easily disposed to put up with the loss of the other's company.

“I guess there's nothing complicated about this deal,” he remarked. “Just a game of hide-and-seek, that's all.”

“I hope so,” said Sir James.

“Sure thing. What else could it be?”

“You are still young, Mr. Hersheimmer. At my age you will probably have learnt one lesson: ‘Never underestimate your adversary.' ”

The gravity of his tone impressed Tommy, but had little effect upon Julius.

“You think Mr. Brown might come along and take a hand! If he does, I'm ready for him.” He slapped his pocket. “I carry a gun. Little Willie here travels round with me everywhere.” He produced a murderous-looking automatic, and tapped it affectionately before returning it to its home. “But he won't be needed on this trip. There's nobody to put Mr. Brown wise.”

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders.

“There was nobody to put Mr. Brown wise to the fact that Mrs. Vandemeyer meant to betray him. Nevertheless,
Mrs. Vandemeyer died without speaking.
”