“Going to do me in? That’s the correct expression, I believe. You have got it in for me.”
“You’ve got a nerve all right. Not we shan’t attempt violence. Just keep you under restraint, so to speak.”
“I’m afraid you’re backing the wrong horse,” said Tommy. “I’ve no intention of being ‘kept under restraint’ as you call it.”
Mr. Ryder smiled genially. From outside a cat uttered a melancholy cry to the moon.
“Banking on that cross you put on the door, eh Sonny?” said Mr. Ryder. “I shouldn’t if I were you. Because I know that story you mentioned. Heard it when I was a little boy. I stepped back into the alleyway to enact the part of the dog with eyes as big as cart wheels. If you were in that alley now, you would observe that every door in the alley is marked with an identical cross.”
Tommy drooped his head despondently.
“Thought you were mighty clever, didn’t you?” said Ryder.
As the words left his lips a sharp rapping sounded on the door.
“What’s that?” he cried, starting.
At the same time, an assault began on the front of the house. The door at the back was a flimsy affair. The lock gave almost immediately and Inspector Marriot showed in the doorway.
“Well done, Marriot,” said Tommy. “You were quite right as to the district. I’d like you to make the acquaintance of Mr. Hank Ryder who knows all the best fairy tales.”
“You see, Mr. Ryder,” he added gently, “I’ve had my suspicions of you. Albert (that important looking boy with the big ears is Albert) had orders to follow on his motor cycle if you and I went off joy riding at any time. And whilst I was ostentatiously marking a chalk cross on the door to engage your attention, I also emptied a little bottle of valerian on the ground. Nasty smell, but cats love it. All the cats in the neighborhood were assembled outside to mark the right house when Albert and the police arrived.”
He looked at the dumbfounded Mr. Ryder with a smile. Then rose to his feet.
“I said I would get you, Crackler, and I have got you,” he observed.
“What the Hell are you talking about?” asked Mr. Ryder. “What do you mean-Crackler?”
“You will find it in the glossary of the next criminal dictionary,” said Tommy. “Etymology doubtful.”
He looked round him with a happy smile.
“And all done without a Nose,” he murmured brightly. “Good night, Marriot. I must go now to where the happy ending of the story awaits me. No reward like the love of a good woman-and the love of a good woman awaits me at home-that is I hope it does, but one never knows nowadays. This has been a very dangerous job, Marriot. Do you know Captain Jimmy Faulkener? His dancing is simply too marvellous and as for his taste in cocktails-! Yes, Marriot, it has been a very dangerous job.”
15.THE SUNNINGDALE MYSTERY
“Do you know where we are going to lunch today, Tuppence?”
Mrs. Beresford considered the question.
“The Ritz?” she suggested hopefully.
“Think again.”
“That nice little place in Soho?”
“No.” Tommy’s tone was full of importance. “An A.B.C. shop. This one in fact.”
He drew her deftly inside an establishment of the kind indicated, and steered her to a corner marble-topped table.
“Excellent,” said Tommy with satisfaction, as he seated himself. “Couldn’t be better.”
“Why has this craze for the simple life come upon you?” demanded Tuppence.
“You see, Watson, but you do not observe. I wonder now whether one of these haughty damsels would condescend to notice us? Splendid, she drifts this way. It is true that she appears to be thinking of something else, but doubtless her subconscious mind is functioning busily with such matters as ham and eggs and pots of tea. Chop and fried potatoes, please, Miss, and a large coffee, a roll and butter, and a plate of tongue for the lady.”
The waitress repeated the order in a scornful tone, but Tuppence leant forward suddenly and interrupted her.
“No, not a chop and fried potatoes. This gentleman will have a cheese cake and a glass of milk.”