PARTNERS IN CRIME by Agatha Christie

“Rather,” agreed Tommy heartily. “I’m sorrier for all those poor devils who lost their eyesight in the War than for anyone else. But they say that when you live in the dark you really do develop special senses. That’s what I want to try and see if one couldn’t do. It would be jolly handy to train oneself to be some good in the dark. Now, Tuppence, be a good Sydney Thames. How many steps to that cane?”

Tuppence made a desperate guess.

“Three straight, five left,” she hazarded.

Tommy paced it uncertainly, Tuppence interrupting with a cry of warning as she realised that the fourth step left would take him slap against the wall.

“There’s a lot in this,” said Tuppence. “You’ve no idea how difficult it is to judge how many steps are needed.”

“It’s jolly interesting,” said Tommy. “Call Albert in. I’m going to shake hands with you both, and see if I know which is which.”

“All right,” said Tuppence, “but Albert must wash his hands first. They’re sure to be sticky from those beastly acid drops he’s always eating.”

Albert, introduced to the game, was full of interest.

Tommy, the hand shakes completed, smiled complacently.

“The keyboard of silence cannot lie,” he murmured. ‘The first was Albert, the second, you, Tuppence.”

“Wrong!” shrieked Tuppence. “Keyboard of silence indeed! You went by my wedding ring. And I put that on Albert’s finger.”

Various other experiments were carried out, with indifferent success.

“But it’s coming,” declared Tommy. “One can’t expect to be infallible straight away. I tell you what. It’s just lunch time. You and I will go to the Blitz, Tuppence. Blind man and his keeper. Some jolly useful tips to be picked up there.”

“I say, Tommy, we shall get into trouble.”

“No, we shan’t. I shall behave quite like the little gentleman. But I bet you that by the end of luncheon I shall be startling you.”

All protests being thus overborne, a quarter of an hour later saw Tommy and Tuppence comfortably ensconced at a corner table in the Gold Room of the Blitz.

Tommy ran his fingers lightly over the Menu.

“Pilaff de Homard and Grilled Chicken for me,” he murmured.

Tuppence also made her selection, and the waiter moved away.

“So far, so good,” said Tommy. “Now for a more ambitious venture. What beautiful legs that girl in the short skirt has-the one who has just come in.”

“How was that done, Thorn?”

“Beautiful legs impart a particular vibration to the floor which is received by my hollow cane. Or, to be honest, in a big Restaurant there is nearly always a girl with beautiful legs standing in the doorway looking for her friends, and with short skirts going about, she’d be sure to take advantage of them.”

The meal proceeded.

“The man two tables from us is a very wealthy profiteer, I fancy,” said Tommy carelessly.

“Pretty good,” said Tuppence appreciatively. “I don’t follow that one.”

“I shan’t tell you how it’s done every time. It spoils my show. The head waiter is serving champagne three tables off to thee right. A stout woman in black is about to pass our table.”

“Tommy, how can you-”

“Aha! You’re beginning to see what I can do. That’s a nice girl in brown just getting up at the table behind you.”

“Snoo!” said Tuppence. “It’s a young man in grey.”

“Oh!” said Tommy, momentarily disconcerted.

And at that moment two men who had been sitting at a table not far away, and who had been watching the young pair with keen interest, got up and came across to the corner table.

“Excuse me,” said the elder of the two, a tall well dressed man with an eyeglass and a small grey moustache. “But you have been pointed out to me as Mr. Theodore Blunt. May I ask if that is so?”

Tommy hesitated a minute, feeling somewhat at a disadvantage. Then he bowed his head.

“That is so. I am Mr. Blunt.”

“What an unexpected piece of good fortune! Mr. Blunt, I was going to call at your offices after lunch. I am in trouble-very grave trouble. But-excuse me-you have had some accident to your eyes?”

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