THE SECRET ADVERSARY BY AGATHA CHRISTIE

actionable–blackmail, you know.”

“Nonsense. Blackmail is saying you’ll tell unless you are given money.

Now, there’s nothing I could tell, because I don’t really know anything.”

“Hm,” said Tommy doubtfully. “Well, anyway, what ARE we going to do?

Whittington was in a hurry to get rid of you this morning, but next time he’ll

want to know something more before he parts with his money. He’ll want to know

how much YOU know, and where you got your information from, and a lot of other

things that you can’t cope with. What are you going to do about it?”

Tuppence frowned severely.

“We must think. Order some Turkish coffee, Tommy. Stimulating to the

brain. Oh, dear, what a lot I have eaten!”

“You have made rather a hog of yourself! So have I for that matter, but I

flatter myself that my choice of dishes was more judicious than yours. Two

coffees.” (This was to the waiter.) “One Turkish, one French.”

Tuppence sipped her coffee with a deeply reflective air, and snubbed Tommy

when he spoke to her.

“Be quiet. I’m thinking.”

“Shades of Pelmanism!” said Tommy, and relapsed into silence.

“There!” said Tuppence at last. “I’ve got a plan. Obviously what we’ve got

to do is to find out more about it all.”

Tommy applauded.

“Don’t jeer. We can only find out through Whittington. We must discover

where he lives, what he does–sleuth him, in fact! Now I can’t do it, because he

knows me, but he only saw you for a minute or two in Lyons’. He’s not likely to

recognize you. After all, one young man is much like another.”

“I repudiate that remark utterly. I’m sure my pleasing features and

distinguished appearance would single me out from any crowd.”

“My plan is this,” Tuppence went on calmly, “I’ll go alone to-morrow. I’ll

put him off again like I did to-day. It doesn’t matter if I don’t get any more

money at once. Fifty pounds ought to last us a few days.”

“Or even longer!”

“You’ll hang about outside. When I come out I shan’t speak to you in case

he’s watching. But I’ll take up my stand somewhere near, and when he comes out

of the building I’ll drop a handkerchief or something, and off you go!”

“Off I go where?”

“Follow him, of course, silly! What do you think of the idea?”

“Sort of thing one reads about in books. I somehow feel that in real life

one will feel a bit of an ass standing in the street for hours with nothing to

do. People will wonder what I’m up to.”

“Not in the city. Every one’s in such a hurry. Probably no one will even

notice you at all.”

“That’s the second time you’ve made that sort of remark. Never mind, I

forgive you. Anyway, it will be rather a lark. What are you doing this

afternoon?”

“Well,” said Tuppence meditatively. “I HAD thought of hats! Or perhaps

silk stockings! Or perhaps—-”

“Hold hard,” admonished Tommy. “There’s a limit to fifty pounds! But let’s

do dinner and a show to-night at all events.”

“Rather.”

The day passed pleasantly. The evening even more so. Two of the five-pound

notes were now irretrievably dead.

They met by arrangement the following morning and proceeded citywards.

Tommy remained on the opposite side of the road while Tuppence plunged into the

building.

Tommy strolled slowly down to the end of the street, then back again. Just

as he came abreast of the building, Tuppence darted across the road.

“Tommy!”

“Yes. What’s up?”

“The place is shut. I can’t make anyone hear.”

“That’s odd.”

“Isn’t it? Come up with me, and let’s try again.”

Tommy followed her. As they passed the third floor landing a young clerk

came out of an office. He hesitated a moment, then addressed himself to

Tuppence.

“Were you wanting the Esthonia Glassware?”

“Yes, please.”

“It’s closed down. Since yesterday afternoon. Company being wound up,

they say. Not that I’ve ever heard of it myself. But anyway the office is to

let.”

“Th–thank you,” faltered Tuppence. “I suppose you don’t know Mr.

Whittington’s address?”

“Afraid I don’t. They left rather suddenly.”

“Thank you very much,” said Tommy. “Come on, Tuppence.”

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