“Well I am sure we wish you luck and all that,” said Tuppence kindly. “But I don’t exactly see what you want us to do.”
“Oh Lordl” said Mr. Montgomery Jones. “Haven’t I explained?”
“No,” said Tommy. “You haven’t.”
“Well, it was like this. We were talking about detective stories. Una-that’s her name-is just as keen about them as I am. We got talking about one in particular. It all hinges on an alibi. Then we got talking about alibis and faking them. Then I said-no, she said-now which of us was it that said it?”
“Never mind which of you it was,” said Tuppence.
“I said it would be a jolly difficult thing to do. She disagreed-said it only wanted a bit of brain work. We got all hot and excited about it and in the end she said ‘I will make you a sporting offer. What do you bet that I can produce an alibi that nobody can shake?”
“Anything you like, I said, and we settled it then and there. She was frightfully cocksure about the whole thing. ‘It’s an odds on chance for me,’ she said. ‘Don’t be so sure of that,’ I said. ‘Supposing you lose and I ask you for anything I like?’ She laughed and said she came of a gambling family and I could.”
“Well?” said Tuppence as Mr. Jones came to a pause and looked at her appealingly.
“Well, don’t you see? It is up to me. It is the only chance I have got of getting a girl like that to look at me. You have no idea how sporting she is. Last summer she was out in a boat and someone bet her she wouldn’t jump overboard and swim ashore in her clothes, and she did it.”
“It is a very curious proposition,” said Tommy. “I am not quite sure I yet understand it.”
“It is perfectly simple,” said Mr. Montgomery Jones. “You must be doing this sort of thing all the time. Investigating fake alibis and seeing where they fall down.”
“Oh-er-yes, of course,” said Tommy. “We do a lot of that sort of work.”
“Someone has got to do it for me,” said Montgomery Jones. “I shouldn’t be any good at that sort of thing myself. You have only got to catch her out and everything is all right. I daresay it seems rather a futile business to you but it means a lot to me and I am prepared to pay-er-all necessary whatnots you know.”
“That will be all right,” said Tuppence. “I am sure Mr. Blunt will take the case on for you.”
“Certainly, certainly,” said Tommy. “A most refreshing case, most refreshing indeed.”
Mr. Montgomery Jones heaved a sigh of relief and pulled a mass of papers from his pocket and selected one of them. “Here it is,” he said. She says, ‘I am sending you proof I was in two distinct places at one and the same time. According to one story I dined at the Bon Temps Restaurant in Soho by myself, went to the Duke’s Theatre and had supper with a friend, Mr. le Marchant, at the Savoy-but I was also staying at the Castle Hotel, Torquay, and only returned to London on the following morning. You have got to find out which of the two stories is the true one and how I managed the other.”
“There,” said Mr. Montgomery Jones. “Now you see what it is that I want you to do.”
“A most refreshing little problem,” said Tommy. “Very naïve.”
“Here is Una’s photograph,” said Mr. Montgomery Jones. “You will want that.”
“What is the lady’s full name?” inquired Tommy.
“Miss Una Drake. And her address is 180 Clarges Street.”
“Thank you,” said Tommy. “Well, we will look into the matter for you, Mr. Montgomery Jones. I hope we shall have good news for you very shortly.”
“I say you know, I am no end grateful,” said Mr. Jones rising to his feet and shaking Tommy by the hand. “It has taken an awful load off my mind.”
Having seen his client out, Tommy returned to the inner office. Tuppence was at the cupboard that contained the Classic library.