“Begging your pardon, sir, that’s just what he wouldn’t know. He may have tumbled to the fact that you’re not the original Mr. Blunt, but he probably thinks that you’re a bona fide gentleman who’s bought the business. In that case, the letter would be all in the way of regular business and would be filed as such.”
“I see,” said Tuppence.
“And that’s just what we’ve got to let him think. We’ll catch him red handed here to-night.”
“So that’s the plan, is it?”
“Yes. It’s the chance of a lifetime. Now, let me see, what’s the time? Six o’clock. What time do you usually leave here, sir?”
“About six.”
“You must seem to leave the place as usual. Actually we’ll sneak back to it as soon as possible. I don’t believe they’ll come here till about eleven, but of course they might. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go and take a look round outside and see if I can make out anyone watching the place.”
Dymchurch departed, and Tommy began an argument with Tuppence.
It lasted some time and was heated and acrimonious. In the end Tuppence suddenly capitulated.
“All right,” she said. “I give in. I’ll go home, and sit there like a good little girl whilst you tackle crooks and hob nob with detectives-but you wait, young man. I’ll be even with you yet for keeping me out of the fun.”
Dymchurch returned at that moment.
“Coast seems clear enough,” he said. “But you can’t tell. Better seem to leave in the usual manner. They won’t go on watching the place once you’ve gone.”
Tommy called Albert, and gave him instructions to lock up.
Then the four of them made their way to the garage near by where the car was usually left. Tuppence drove and Albert sat beside her. Tommy and the detective sat behind.
Presently they were held up by a block in the traffic. Tuppence looked over her shoulder and nodded. Tommy and the detective opened the right hand door, and stepped out into the middle of Oxford Street. In a minute or two Tuppence drove on.
6. THE ADVENTURE OF THE SINISTER STRANGER (continued)
“Better not go in just yet,” said Dymchurch as he and Tommy hurried into Haleham Street. “You’ve got the key all right?”
Tommy nodded.
“Then what about a bite of dinner? It’s early, but there’s a little place here right opposite. We’ll get a table by the window, so that we can watch the place all the time.”
They had a very welcome little meal, in the manner the detective had suggested. Tommy found Inspector Dymchurch quite an entertaining companion. Most of his official work had lain amongst international spies, and he had tales to tell which astonished his simple listener.
They remained in the little Restaurant until eight o’clock when Dymchurch suggested a move.
“It’s quite dark now, sir,” he explained. “We shall be able to slip in without anyone being the wiser.”
It was, as he said, quite dark. They crossed the road looked quickly up and down the deserted street, and slipped inside the entrance. Then they mounted the stairs, and Tommy inserted his key in the lock of the outer office.
Just as he did so, he heard, as he thought, Dymchurch whistle beside him.
“What are you whistling for?” he asked sharply.
“I didn’t whistle,” said Dymchurch, very much astonished, “I thought you did.”
“Well, someone-” began Tommy.
He got no further. Strong arms seized him from behind, and before he could cry out, a pad of something sweet and sickly was pressed over his mouth and nose.
He struggled valiantly, but in vain. The chloroform did its work. His head began to whirl and the floor heaved up and down in front of him. Choking, he lost consciousness….
He came to himself painfully but in full possession of his faculties. The chloroform had been only a whiff. They had kept him under long enough to force a gag into his mouth and ensure that he did not cry out.
When he came to himself, he was half lying, half sitting, propped against the wall in a corner of his own inner office. Two men were busily turning out the contents of the desk, and ransacking the cupboards, and as they worked they cursed freely.