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.”