THE SECRET ADVERSARY BY AGATHA CHRISTIE

is criminology! It is madness!”

“I know that his eloquence has saved untold men from the gallows,” said

Mrs. Vandemeyer calmly. “What of it? I may need his assistance in that line

myself some day. If so, how fortunate to have such a friend at court–or perhaps

it would be more to the point to say IN court.”

Boris got up and began striding up and down. He was very excited.

“You are a clever woman, Rita; but you are also a fool! Be guided by me,

and give up Peel Edgerton.”

Mrs. Vandemeyer shook her head gently.

“I think not.”

“You refuse?” There was an ugly ring in the Russian’s voice.

“I do.”

“Then, by Heaven,” snarled the Russian, “we will see—-” But Mrs.

Vandemeyer also rose to her feet, her eyes flashing.

“You forget, Boris,” she said. “I am accountable to no one. I take my

orders only from–Mr. Brown.”

The other threw up his hands in despair.

“You are impossible,” he muttered. “Impossible! Already it may be too

late. They say Peel Edgerton can SMELL a criminal! How do we know what is at

the bottom of his sudden interest in you? Perhaps even now his suspicions are

aroused. He guesses—-”

Mrs. Vandemeyer eyed him scornfully.

“Reassure yourself, my dear Boris. He suspects nothing. With less than

your usual chivalry, you seem to forget that I am commonly accounted a beautiful

woman. I assure you that is all that interests Peel Edgerton.”

Boris shook his head doubtfully.

“He has studied crime as no other man in this kingdom has studied it. Do

you fancy that you can deceive him?”

Mrs. Vandemeyer’s eyes narrowed.

“If he is all that you say–it would amuse me to try!”

“Good heavens, Rita—-”

“Besides,” added Mrs. Vandemeyer, “he is extremely rich. I am not one who

despises money. The ‘sinews of war,’ you know, Boris!”

“Money–money! That is always the danger with you, Rita. I believe you

would sell your soul for money. I believe—-” He paused, then in a low,

sinister voice he said slowly: “Sometimes I believe that you would sell–us!”

Mrs. Vandemeyer smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

“The price, at any rate, would have to be enormous,” she said lightly. “It

would be beyond the power of anyone but a millionaire to pay.”

“Ah!” snarled the Russian. “You see, I was right!”

“My dear Boris, can you not take a joke?”

“Was it a joke?”

“Of course.”

“Then all I can say is that your ideas of humour are peculiar, my dear

Rita.”

Mrs. Vandemeyer smiled.

“Let us not quarrel, Boris. Touch the bell. We will have some drinks.”

Tuppence beat a hasty retreat. She paused a moment to survey herself in

Mrs. Vandemeyer’s long glass, and be sure that nothing was amiss with her

appearance. Then she answered the bell demurely.

The conversation that she had overheard, although interesting in that it

proved beyond doubt the complicity of both Rita and Boris, threw very little

light on the present preoccupations. The name of Jane Finn had not even been

mentioned.

The following morning a few brief words with Albert informed her that

nothing was waiting for her at the stationer’s. It seemed incredible that Tommy,

if all was well with him, should not send any word to her. A cold hand seemed to

close round her heart…. Supposing … She choked her fears down bravely. It

was no good worrying. But she leapt at a chance offered her by Mrs. Vandemeyer.

“What day do you usually go out, Prudence?”

“Friday’s my usual day, ma’am.”

Mrs. Vandemeyer lifted her eyebrows.

“And to-day is Friday! But I suppose you hardly wish to go out to-day, as

you only came yesterday.”

“I was thinking of asking you if I might, ma’am.”

Mrs. Vandemeyer looked at her a minute longer, and then smiled.

“I wish Count Stepanov could hear you. He made a suggestion about you last

night.” Her smile broadened, catlike. “Your request is very–typical. I am

satisfied. You do not understand all this–but you can go out to-day. It makes

no difference to me, as I shall not be dining at home.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Tuppence felt a sensation of relief once she was out of the other’s

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