for Miss Tuppence’s fortunate change of plan, she would have been far away from
the flat when we arrived there. Exposure stared him in the face. He took a
desperate step, trusting in his assumed character to avert suspicion. He nearly
succeeded–but not quite.”
“I can’t believe it,” murmured Jane. “He seemed so splendid.”
“The real Julius Hersheimmer WAS a splendid fellow! And Mr. Brown is a
consummate actor. But ask Miss Tuppence if she also has not had her
suspicions.”
Jane turned mutely to Tuppence. The latter nodded.
“I didn’t want to say it, Jane–I knew it would hurt you. And, after all,
I couldn’t be sure. I still don’t understand why, if he’s Mr. Brown, he rescued
us.”
“Was it Julius Hersheimmer who helped you to escape?”
Tuppence recounted to Sir James the exciting events of the evening, ending
up: “But I can’t see WHY!”
“Can’t you? I can. So can young Beresford, by his actions. As a last hope
Jane Finn was to be allowed to escape–and the escape must be managed so that
she harbours no suspicions of its being a put-up job. They’re not averse to
young Beresford’s being in the neighbourhood, and, if necessary, communicating
with you. They’ll take care to get him out of the way at the right minute. Then
Julius Hersheimmer dashes up and rescues you in true melodramatic style. Bullets
fly–but don’t hit anybody. What would have happened next? You would have
driven straight to the house in Soho and secured the document which Miss Finn
would probably have entrusted to her cousin’s keeping. Or, if he conducted the
search, he would have pretended to find the hiding-place already rifled. He
would have had a dozen ways of dealing with the situation, but the result would
have been the same. And I rather fancy some accident would have happened to both
of you. You see, you know rather an inconvenient amount. That’s a rough
outline. I admit I was caught napping; but somebody else wasn’t.”
“Tommy,” said Tuppence softly.
“Yes. Evidently when the right moment came to get rid of him–he was too
sharp for them. All the same, I’m not too easy in my mind about him.”
“Why?”
“Because Julius Hersheimmer is Mr. Brown,” said Sir James dryly. “And it
takes more than one man and a revolver to hold up Mr. Brown….”
Tuppence paled a little.
“What can we do?”
“Nothing until we’ve been to the house in Soho. If Beresford has still got
the upper hand, there’s nothing to fear. If otherwise, our enemy will come to
find us, and he will not find us unprepared!” From a drawer in the desk, he took
a service revolver, and placed it in his coat pocket.
“Now we’re ready. I know better than even to suggest going without you,
Miss Tuppence—-”
“I should think so indeed!”
“But I do suggest that Miss Finn should remain here. She will be perfectly
safe, and I am afraid she is absolutely worn out with all she has been through.”
But to Tuppence’s surprise Jane shook her head.
“No. I guess I’m going too. Those papers were my trust. I must go through
with this business to the end. I’m heaps better now anyway.”
Sir James’s car was ordered round. During the short drive Tuppence’s heart
beat tumultuously. In spite of momentary qualms of uneasiness respecting Tommy,
she could not but feel exultation. They were going to win!
The car drew up at the corner of the square and they got out. Sir James
went up to a plain-clothes man who was on duty with several others, and spoke to
him. Then he rejoined the girls.
“No one has gone into the house so far. It is being watched at the back as
well, so they are quite sure of that. Anyone who attempts to enter after we
have done so will be arrested immediately. Shall we go in?”
A policeman produced a key. They all knew Sir James well. They had also
had orders respecting Tuppence. Only the third member of the party was unknown
to them. The three entered the house, pulling the door to behind them. Slowly
they mounted the rickety stairs. At the top was the ragged curtain hiding the