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PARTNERS IN CRIME by Agatha Christie

“I’m sure we’re in a real den of iniquity,” said Tuppence with a pleased face. “Scandals all round us. What a row everyone makes.”

A cry, as of protest, rang out from the booth next door and was covered by a man’s loud laugh. Everybody was laughing and singing. The shrill voices of the girls rose above the booming of their male escorts.

“What about that shepherdess?” demanded Tommy. “The one with the comic Frenchman. They might be our little lot.”

“Anyone might be,” confessed Tuppence. “I’m not going to bother. The great thing is that we are enjoying ourselves.”

“I could have enjoyed myself better in another costume,” grumbled Tommy. “You’ve no idea of the heat of this one.”

“Cheer up,” said Tuppence. “You look lovely.”

“I’m glad of that,” said Tommy. “It’s more than you do. You’re the funniest little guy I’ve ever seen.”

“Will you keep a civil tongue in your head, Denny, my boy. Hullo, the gentleman in newspaper is leaving his lady alone. Where’s he going, do you think?”

“Going to hurry up the drinks, I expect,” said Tommy. “I wouldn’t mind doing the same thing.”

“He’s a long time doing it,” said Tuppence, when four or five minutes had passed. “Tommy, would you think me an awful ass-” She paused.

Suddenly she jumped up.

“Call me an ass if you like. I’m going in next door.”

“Look here, Tuppence-you can’t-”

“I’ve a feeling there’s something wrong. “I know there is. Don’t try and stop me.”

She passed quickly out of their own booth, and Tommy followed her. The doors of the one next door were closed. Tuppence pushed them apart and went in, Tommy on her heels.

The girl dressed as the Queen of Hearts sat in the corner leaning up against the wall in a queer huddled position. Her eyes regarded them steadily through her mask, but she did not move. Her dress was carried out in a bold design of red and white, but on the left side of the pattern seemed to have got mixed. There was more red than should have been. . . .

With a cry Tuppence hurried forward. At the same time, Tommy saw what she had seen, the hilt of a jewelled dagger just below the heart. Tuppence dropped on her knees by the girl’s side.

“Quick, Tommy, she’s still alive. Get hold of the Manager and make him get a doctor at once.”

“Right. Mind you don’t touch the handle of that dagger,

“I’ll be careful. Go quickly.”

Tommy hurried out, pulling the doors to behind him Tuppence passed her arm around the girl. The latter made a faint gesture, and Tuppence realised that she wanted to get rid of the mask. Tuppence unfastened it gently. She saw a fresh flower-like face, and wide starry eyes that were full of horror, suffering, and a kind of dazed bewilderment.

“My dear,” said Tuppence, very gently. “Can you speak at all? Will you tell me, if you can, who did this?”

She felt the eyes fix themselves on her face. The girl was sighing, the deep palpitating sighs of a failing heart. And still she looked steadily at Tuppence. Then her lips parted.

“Bingo did it-” she said in a strained whisper

Then her hands relaxed, and she seemed to nestle down on Tuppence’s shoulder.

Tommy came in, two men with him. The bigger of the two came forward with an air of authority, the word, doctor, written all over him.

Tuppence relinquished her burden.

“She’s dead, I’m afraid,” she said with a catch in her voice.

The doctor made a swift examination.

“Yes,” he said. “Nothing to be done. We had better leave things as they are till the police come. How did the thing happen?”

Tuppence explained rather haltingly, slurring over her reasons for entering the booth.

“It’s a curious business,” said the doctor. “You heard nothing?”

“I heard her give a kind of cry, but then the man laughed. Naturally I didn’t think-”

“Naturally not,” agreed the doctor. “And the man wore a mask, you say. You wouldn’t recognise him?” “I’m afraid not. Would you, Tommy?” “No. Still there is his costume.” “The first thing will be to identify this poor lady,” said the doctor. “After that, well, I suppose the police will get down to things pretty quickly. It ought not to be a difficult case. Ah, here they come.”

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Categories: Christie, Agatha
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