The Complete Tommy & Tuppence Collection (31 page)

“Just a mite impatient to leave us,” commented Julius, as the car gathered way again. “And no idea of saying good-bye politely to the ladies. Say, Jane, you can get up on the seat now.”

For the first time the girl spoke.

“How did you ‘persuade' him?” she asked.

Julius tapped his revolver.

“Little Willie here takes the credit!”

“Splendid!” cried the girl. The colour surged into her face, her eyes looked admiringly at Julius.

“Annette and I didn't know what was going to happen to us,” said Tuppence. “Old Whittington hurried us off. We thought it was lambs to the slaughter.”

“Annette,” said Julius. “Is that what you call her?”

His mind seemed to be trying to adjust itself to a new idea.

“It's her name,” said Tuppence, opening her eyes very wide.

“Shucks!” retorted Julius. “She may think it's her name, because her memory's gone, poor kid. But it's the one real and original Jane Finn we've got here.”

“What—?” cried Tuppence.

But she was interrupted. With an angry spurt, a bullet embedded itself in the upholstery of the car just behind her head.

“Down with you,” cried Julius. “It's an ambush. These guys have got busy pretty quickly. Push her a bit, George.”

The car fairly leapt forward. Three more shots rang out, but went happily wide. Julius, upright, leant over the back of the car.

“Nothing to shoot at,” he announced gloomily. “But I guess there'll be another little picnic soon. Ah!”

He raised his hand to his cheek.

“You are hurt?” said Annette quickly.

“Only a scratch.”

The girl sprang to her feet.

“Let me out! Let me out, I say! Stop the car. It is me they're after. I'm the one they want. You shall not lose your lives because of me. Let me go.” She was fumbling with the fastenings of the door.

Julius took her by both arms, and looked at her. She had spoken with no trace of foreign accent.

“Sit down, kid,” he said gently. “I guess there's nothing wrong with your memory. Been fooling them all the time, eh?”

The girl looked at him, nodded, and then suddenly burst into tears. Julius patted her on the shoulder.

“There, there—just you sit tight. We're not going to let you quit.”

Through her sobs the girl said indistinctly:

“You're from home. I can tell by your voice. It makes me homesick.”

“Sure I'm from home. I'm your cousin—Julius Hersheimmer. I came over to Europe on purpose to find you—and a pretty dance you've led me.”

The car slackened speed. George spoke over his shoulder:

“Crossroads here, sir. I'm not sure of the way.”

The car slowed down till it hardly moved. As it did so a figure climbed suddenly over the back, and plunged head first into the midst of them.

“Sorry,” said Tommy, extricating himself.

A mass of confused exclamations greeted him. He replied to them severally:

“Was in the bushes by the drive. Hung on behind. Couldn't let you know before at the pace you were going. It was all I could do to hang on. Now then, you girls, get out!”

“Get out?”

“Yes. There's a station just up that road. Train due in three minutes. You'll catch it if you hurry.”

“What the devil are you driving at?” demanded Julius. “Do you think you can fool them by leaving the car?”

“You and I aren't going to leave the car. Only the girls.”

“You're crazed, Beresford. Stark staring mad! You can't let those girls go off alone. It'll be the end of it if you do.”

Tommy turned to Tuppence.

“Get out at once, Tuppence. Take her with you, and do just as I say. No one will do you any harm. You're safe. Take the train to London. Go straight to Sir James Peel Edgerton. Mr. Carter lives out of town, but you'll be safe with him.”

“Darn you!” cried Julius. “You're mad. Jane, you stay where you are.”

With a sudden swift movement, Tommy snatched the revolver from Julius's hand, and levelled it at him.

“Now will you believe I'm in earnest? Get out, both of you, and do as I say—or I'll shoot!”

Tuppence sprang out, dragging the unwilling Jane after her.

“Come on, it's all right. If Tommy's sure—he's sure. Be quick. We'll miss the train.”

They started running.

Julius's pent-up rage burst forth.

“What the hell—”

Tommy interrupted him.

“Dry up! I want a few words with you, Mr. Julius Hersheimmer.”

Twenty-five

J
ANE
'
S
S
TORY

H
er arm through Jane's, dragging her along, Tuppence reached the station. Her quick ears caught the sound of the approaching train.

“Hurry up,” she panted, “or we'll miss it.”

They arrived on the platform just as the train came to a standstill. Tuppence opened the door of an empty first-class compartment, and the two girls sank down breathless on the padded seats.

A man looked in, then passed on to the next carriage. Jane started nervously. Her eyes dilated with terror. She looked questioningly at Tuppence.

“Is he one of them, do you think?” she breathed.

Tuppence shook her head.

“No, no. It's all right.” She took Jane's hand in hers. “Tommy wouldn't have told us to do this unless he was sure we'd be all right.”

“But he doesn't know them as I do!” The girl shivered. “You can't understand. Five years! Five long years! Sometimes I thought I should go mad.”

“Never mind. It's all over.”

“Is it?”

The train was moving now, speeding through the night at a gradually increasing rate. Suddenly Jane Finn started up.

“What was that? I thought I saw a face—looking in through the window.”

“No, there's nothing. See.” Tuppence went to the window, and lifting the strap let the pane down.

“You're sure?”

“Quite sure.”

The other seemed to feel some excuse was necessary:

“I guess I'm acting like a frightened rabbit, but I can't help it. If they caught me now they'd—” Her eyes opened wide and staring.

“Don't!”
implored Tuppence. “Lie back, and
don't think.
You can be quite sure that Tommy wouldn't have said it was safe if it wasn't.”

“My cousin didn't think so. He didn't want us to do this.”

“No,” said Tuppence, rather embarrassed.

“What are you thinking of?” said Jane sharply.

“Why?”

“Your voice was so—queer!”

“I
was
thinking of something,” confessed Tuppence. “But I don't want to tell you—not now. I may be wrong, but I don't think so. It's just an idea that came into my head a long time ago. Tommy's got it too—I'm almost sure he has. But don't
you
worry—there'll be time enough for that later. And it mayn't be so at all! Do what I tell you—lie back and don't think of anything.”

“I'll try.” The long lashes drooped over the hazel eyes.

Tuppence, for her part, sat bolt upright—much in the attitude of a watchful terrier on guard. In spite of herself she was nervous. Her eyes flashed continually from one window to the other. She noted the exact position of the communication cord. What it was that she feared, she would have been hard put to it to say. But in her own mind she was far from feeling the confidence displayed in her words. Not that she disbelieved in Tommy, but occasionally she was shaken with doubts as to whether anyone so simple and honest as he was could ever be a match for the fiendish subtlety of the arch-criminal.

If they once reached Sir James Peel Edgerton in safety, all would be well. But would they reach him? Would not the silent forces of Mr. Brown already be assembling against them? Even that last picture of Tommy, revolver in hand, failed to comfort her. By now he might be overpowered, borne down by sheer force of numbers . . . Tuppence mapped out her plan of campaign.

As the train at length drew slowly into Charing Cross, Jane Finn sat up with a start.

“Have we arrived? I never thought we should!”

“Oh, I thought we'd get to London all right. If there's going to be any fun, now is when it will begin. Quick, get out. We'll nip into a taxi.”

In another minute they were passing the barrier, had paid the necessary fares, and were stepping into a taxi.

“King's Cross,” directed Tuppence. Then she gave a jump. A man looked in at the window, just as they started. She was almost certain it was the same man who had got into the carriage next to them. She had a horrible feeling of being slowly hemmed in on every side.

“You see,” she explained to Jane, “if they think we're going to Sir James, this will put them off the scent. Now they'll imagine we're going to Mr. Carter. His country place is north of London somewhere.”

Crossing Holborn there was a block, and the taxi was held up. This was what Tuppence had been waiting for.

“Quick,” she whispered. “Open the right-hand door!”

The two girls stepped out into the traffic. Two minutes later they were seated in another taxi and were retracing their steps, this time direct to Carlton House Terrace.

“There,” said Tuppence, with great satisfaction, “this ought to do them. I can't help thinking that I'm really rather clever! How that other taxi man will swear! But I took his number, and I'll send him a postal order tomorrow, so that he won't lose by it if he happens to be genuine. What's this thing swerving—Oh!”

There was a grinding noise and a bump. Another taxi had collided with them.

In a flash Tuppence was out on the pavement. A policeman was approaching. Before he arrived Tuppence had handed the driver five shillings, and she and Jane had merged themselves in the crowd.

“It's only a step or two now,” said Tuppence breathlessly. The accident had taken place in Trafalgar Square.

“Do you think the collision was an accident, or done deliberately?”

“I don't know. It might have been either.”

Hand in hand, the two girls hurried along.

“It may be my fancy,” said Tuppence suddenly, “but I feel as though there was someone behind us.”

“Hurry!” murmured the other. “Oh, hurry!”

They were now at the corner of Carlton House Terrace, and their spirits lightened. Suddenly a large and apparently intoxicated man barred their way.

“Good evening, ladies,” he hiccupped. “Whither away so fast?”

“Let us pass, please,” said Tuppence imperiously.

“Just a word with your pretty friend here.” He stretched out an unsteady hand, and clutched Jane by the shoulder. Tuppence heard other footsteps behind. She did not pause to ascertain whether they were friends or foes. Lowering her head, she repeated a manœuvre of childish days, and butted their aggressor full in the capacious middle. The success of these unsportsmanlike tactics was immediate. The man sat down abruptly on the pavement. Tuppence and Jane took to their heels. The house they sought was some way down. Other footsteps echoed behind them. Their breath was coming in choking gasps as they reached Sir James's door. Tuppence seized the bell and Jane the knocker.

The man who had stopped them reached the foot of the steps. For a moment he hesitated, and as he did so the door opened. They fell into the hall together. Sir James came forward from the library door.

“Hullo! What's this?”

He stepped forward and put his arm round Jane as she swayed uncertainly. He half carried her into the library, and laid her on the leather couch. From a tantalus on the table he poured out a few drops of brandy, and forced her to drink them. With a sigh she sat up, her eyes still wild and frightened.

“It's all right. Don't be afraid, my child. You're quite safe.”

Her breath came more normally, and the colour was returning to her cheeks. Sir James looked at Tuppence quizzically.

“So you're not dead, Miss Tuppence, anymore than that Tommy boy of yours was!”

“The Young Adventures take a lot of killing,” boasted Tuppence.

“So it seems,” said Sir James dryly. “Am I right in thinking that the joint venture has ended in success, and that this”—he turned to the girl on the couch—“is Miss Jane Finn?”

Jane sat up.

“Yes,” she said quietly, “I am Jane Finn. I have a lot to tell you.”

“When you are stronger—”

“No—now!” Her voice rose a little. “I shall feel safer when I have told everything.”

“As you please,” said the lawyer.

He sat down in one of the big armchairs facing the couch. In a low voice Jane began her story.

“I came over on the
Lusitania
to take up a post in Paris. I was fearfully keen about the war, and just dying to help somehow or other. I had been studying French, and my teacher said they were wanting help in a hospital in Paris, so I wrote and offered my services, and they were accepted. I hadn't got any folk of my own, so it made it easy to arrange things.

“When the
Lusitania
was torpedoed, a man came up to me. I'd noticed him more than once—and I'd figured it out in my own mind that he was afraid of somebody or something. He asked me if I was a patriotic American, and told me he was carrying papers which were just life or death to the Allies. He asked me to take charge of them. I was to watch for an advertisement in
The Times.
If it didn't appear, I was to take them to the American Ambassador.

“Most of what followed seems like a nightmare still. I see it in my dreams sometimes . . . I'll hurry over that part. Mr. Danvers had told me to watch out. He might have been shadowed from New York, but he didn't think so. At first I had no suspicions, but on the boat to Holyhead I began to get uneasy. There was one woman who had been very keen to look after me, and chum up with me generally—a Mrs. Vandemeyer. At first I'd been only grateful to her for being so kind to me; but all the time I felt there was something about her I didn't like, and on the Irish boat I saw her talking to some queer-looking men, and from the way they looked I saw that they were talking about me. I remembered that she'd been quite near me on the
Lusitania
when Mr. Danvers gave me the packet, and before that she'd tried to talk to him once or twice. I began to get scared, but I didn't quite see what to do.