for it–oh, yes, you shall pay for it! I have a long memory!”
“I’m surprised you should have been gulfed so easily,” said Tuppence
scornfully. “Did you really think I was the kind of girl to roll about on the
floor and whine for mercy?”
“You may do–some day!” said the other significantly.
The cold malignity of her manner sent an unpleasant chill down Tuppence’s
spine, but she was not going to give in to it.
“Supposing we sit down,” she said pleasantly. “Our present attitude is a
little melodramatic. No–not on the bed. Draw a chair up to the table, that’s
right. Now I’ll sit opposite you with the revolver in front of me–just in case
of accidents. Splendid. Now, let’s talk.”
“What about?” said Mrs. Vandemeyer sullenly.
Tuppence eyed her thoughtfully for a minute. She was remembering several
things. Boris’s words, “I believe you would sell–us!” and her answer, “The
price would have to be enormous,” given lightly, it was true, yet might not
there be a substratum of truth in it? Long ago, had not Whittington asked:
“Who’s been blabbing? Rita?” Would Rita Vandemeyer prove to be the weak spot
in the armour of Mr. Brown?
Keeping her eyes fixed steadily on the other’s face, Tuppence replied
quietly:
“Money—-”
Mrs. Vandemeyer started. Clearly, the reply was unexpected.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll tell you. You said just now that you had a long memory. A long
memory isn’t half as useful as a long purse! I dare say it relieves your
feelings a good deal to plan out all sorts of dreadful things to do to me, but
is that PRACTICAL? Revenge is very unsatisfactory. Every one always says so.
But money”–Tuppence warmed to her pet creed–“well, there’s nothing
unsatisfactory about money, is there?”
“Do you think,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer scornfully, “that I am the kind of
woman to sell my friends?”
“Yes,” said Tuppence promptly. “If the price was big enough.”
“A paltry hundred pounds or so!”
“No,” said Tuppence. “I should suggest–a hundred thousand!”
Her economical spirit did not permit her to mention the whole million
dollars suggested by Julius.
A flush crept over Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face.
“What did you say?” she asked, her fingers playing nervously with a brooch
on her breast. In that moment Tuppence knew that the fish was hooked, and for
the first time she felt a horror of her own money-loving spirit. It gave her a
dreadful sense of kinship to the woman fronting her.
“A hundred thousand pounds,” repeated Tuppence.
The light died out of Mrs. Vandemeyer’s eyes. She leaned back in her
chair.
“Bah!” she said. “You haven’t got it.”
“No,” admitted Tuppence, “I haven’t–but I know some one who has.”
“Who?”
“A friend of mine.”
“Must be a millionaire,” remarked Mrs. Vandemeyer unbelievingly.
“As a matter of fact he is. He’s an American. He’ll pay you that without
a murmur. You can take it from me that it’s a perfectly genuine proposition.”
Mrs. Vandemeyer sat up again.
“I’m inclined to believe you,” she said slowly.
There was silence between them for some time, then Mrs. Vandemeyer looked
up.
“What does he want to know, this friend of yours?”
Tuppence went through a momentary struggle, but it was Julius’s money, and
his interests must come first.
“He wants to know where Jane Finn is,” she said boldly.
Mrs. Vandemeyer showed no surprise.
“I’m not sure where she is at the present moment,” she replied.
“But you could find out?”
“Oh, yes,” returned Mrs. Vandemeyer carelessly. “There would be no
difficulty about that.”
“Then”–Tuppence’s voice shook a little–“there’s a boy, a friend of mine.
I’m afraid something’s happened to him, through your pal Boris.”
“What’s his name?”
“Tommy Beresford.”
“Never heard of him. But I’ll ask Boris. He’ll tell me anything he
knows.”
“Thank you.” Tuppence felt a terrific rise in her spirits. It impelled her
to more audacious efforts. “There’s one thing more.”
“Well?”
Tuppence leaned forward and lowered her voice.
“WHO IS MR. BROWN?”
Her quick eyes saw the sudden paling of the beautiful face. With an effort
Mrs. Vandemeyer pulled herself together and tried to resume her former manner.
But the attempt was a mere parody.
She shrugged her shoulders.