The Secret Adversary Page 11

  CHAPTER X. ENTER SIR JAMES PEEL EDGERTON

  TUPPENCE betrayed no awkwardness in her new duties. The daughters of thearchdeacon were well grounded in household tasks. They were also expertsin training a “raw girl,” the inevitable result being that the raw girl,once trained, departed elsewhere where her newly acquired knowledgecommanded a more substantial remuneration than the archdeacon’s meagrepurse allowed.

  Tuppence had therefore very little fear of proving inefficient. Mrs.Vandemeyer’s cook puzzled her. She evidently went in deadly terror ofher mistress. The girl thought it probable that the other woman had somehold over her. For the rest, she cooked like a _chef_, as Tuppence hadan opportunity of judging that evening. Mrs. Vandemeyer was expecting aguest to dinner, and Tuppence accordingly laid the beautifully polishedtable for two. She was a little exercised in her own mind as to thisvisitor. It was highly possible that it might prove to be Whittington.Although she felt fairly confident that he would not recognize her, yetshe would have been better pleased had the guest proved to be a totalstranger. However, there was nothing for it but to hope for the best.

  At a few minutes past eight the front door bell rang, and Tuppence wentto answer it with some inward trepidation. She was relieved to see thatthe visitor was the second of the two men whom Tommy had taken uponhimself to follow.

  He gave his name as Count Stepanov. Tuppence announced him, and Mrs.Vandemeyer rose from her seat on a low divan with a quick murmur ofpleasure.

  “It is delightful to see you, Boris Ivanovitch,” she said.

  “And you, madame!” He bowed low over her hand.

  Tuppence returned to the kitchen.

  “Count Stepanov, or some such,” she remarked, and affecting a frank andunvarnished curiosity: “Who’s he?”

  “A Russian gentleman, I believe.”

  “Come here much?”

  “Once in a while. What d’you want to know for?”

  “Fancied he might be sweet on the missus, that’s all,” explained thegirl, adding with an appearance of sulkiness: “How you do take one up!”

  “I’m not quite easy in my mind about the _soufflé_,” explained theother.

  “You know something,” thought Tuppence to herself, but aloud she onlysaid: “Going to dish up now? Right-o.”

  Whilst waiting at table, Tuppence listened closely to all that was said.She remembered that this was one of the men Tommy was shadowing when shehad last seen him. Already, although she would hardly admit it, she wasbecoming uneasy about her partner. Where was he? Why had no word of anykind come from him? She had arranged before leaving the _Ritz_ to haveall letters or messages sent on at once by special messenger to a smallstationer’s shop near at hand where Albert was to call in frequently.True, it was only yesterday morning that she had parted from Tommy, andshe told herself that any anxiety on his behalf would be absurd. Still,it was strange that he had sent no word of any kind.

  But, listen as she might, the conversation presented no clue. Boris andMrs. Vandemeyer talked on purely indifferent subjects: plays they hadseen, new dances, and the latest society gossip. After dinner theyrepaired to the small boudoir where Mrs. Vandemeyer, stretched on thedivan, looked more wickedly beautiful than ever. Tuppence brought in thecoffee and liqueurs and unwillingly retired. As she did so, she heardBoris say:

  “New, isn’t she?”

  “She came in to-day. The other was a fiend. This girl seems all right.She waits well.”

  Tuppence lingered a moment longer by the door which she had carefullyneglected to close, and heard him say:

  “Quite safe, I suppose?”

  “Really, Boris, you are absurdly suspicious. I believe she’s the cousinof the hall porter, or something of the kind. And nobody even dreamsthat I have any connection with our--mutual friend, Mr. Brown.”

  “For heaven’s sake, be careful, Rita. That door isn’t shut.”

  “Well, shut it then,” laughed the woman.

  Tuppence removed herself speedily.

  She dared not absent herself longer from the back premises, but shecleared away and washed up with a breathless speed acquired in hospital.Then she slipped quietly back to the boudoir door. The cook, moreleisurely, was still busy in the kitchen and, if she missed the other,would only suppose her to be turning down the beds.

  Alas! The conversation inside was being carried on in too low a toneto permit of her hearing anything of it. She dared not reopen thedoor, however gently. Mrs. Vandemeyer was sitting almost facing it, andTuppence respected her mistress’s lynx-eyed powers of observation.

  Nevertheless, she felt she would give a good deal to overhear what wasgoing on. Possibly, if anything unforeseen had happened, she might getnews of Tommy. For some moments she reflected desperately, then herface brightened. She went quickly along the passage to Mrs. Vandemeyer’sbedroom, which had long French windows leading on to a balcony that ranthe length of the flat. Slipping quickly through the window, Tuppencecrept noiselessly along till she reached the boudoir window. As shehad thought it stood a little ajar, and the voices within were plainlyaudible.

  Tuppence listened attentively, but there was no mention of anythingthat could be twisted to apply to Tommy. Mrs. Vandemeyer and the Russianseemed to be at variance over some matter, and finally the latterexclaimed bitterly:

  “With your persistent recklessness, you will end by ruining us!”

  “Bah!” laughed the woman. “Notoriety of the right kind is the best wayof disarming suspicion. You will realize that one of these days--perhapssooner than you think!”

  “In the meantime, you are going about everywhere with Peel Edgerton.Not only is he, perhaps, the most celebrated K.C. in England, but hisspecial hobby is criminology! It is madness!”

  “I know that his eloquence has saved untold men from the gallows,” saidMrs. Vandemeyer calmly. “What of it? I may need his assistance in thatline myself some day. If so, how fortunate to have such a friend atcourt--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 myorders only from--Mr. Brown.”

  The other threw up his hands in despair.

  “You are impossible,” he muttered. “Impossible! Already it may be toolate. They say Peel Edgerton can _smell_ a criminal! How do we know whatis at the bottom of his sudden interest in you? Perhaps even now hissuspicions are aroused. He guesses----”

  Mrs. Vandemeyer eyed him scornfully.

  “Reassure yourself, my dear Boris. He suspects nothing. With less thanyour usual chivalry, you seem to forget that I am commonly accounted abeautiful 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. Doyou 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 onewho despises money. The ‘sinews of war,’ you know, Boris!”

  “Money--money! That is always the danger with you, Rita. I believe youwould sell your soul for money. I believe----” He paused, then in alow, sinister voice he said slowly: “Sometimes I believe that you wouldsell-- _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 dearRita.”

  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 inMrs. Vandemeyer’s long glass, and be sure that nothing was amiss withher appearance. Then she answered the bell demurely.

  The conversation that she had overheard, although interesting in thatit proved beyond doubt the complicity of both Rita and Boris, threw verylittle light on the present preoccupations. The name of Jane Finn hadnot even been mentioned.

  The following morning a few brief words with Albert informed her thatnothing was waiting for her at the stationer’s. It seemed incrediblethat 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 chokedher fears down bravely. It was no good worrying. But she leapt at achance 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 aboutyou last night.” Her smile broadened, catlike. “Your request isvery--typical. I am satisfied. You do not understand all this--butyou can go out to-day. It makes no difference to me, as I shall not bedining at home.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Tuppence felt a sensation of relief once she was out of the other’spresence. Once again she admitted to herself that she was afraid,horribly afraid, of the beautiful woman with the cruel eyes.

  In the midst of a final desultory polishing of her silver, Tuppence wasdisturbed by the ringing of the front door bell, and went to answer it.This time the visitor was neither Whittington nor Boris, but a man ofstriking appearance.

  Just a shade over average height, he nevertheless conveyed theimpression of a big man. His face, clean-shaven and exquisitely mobile,was stamped with an expression of power and force far beyond theordinary. Magnetism seemed to radiate from him.

  Tuppence was undecided for the moment whether to put him down as anactor or a lawyer, but her doubts were soon solved as he gave her hisname: Sir James Peel Edgerton.

  She looked at him with renewed interest. This, then, was the famous K.C.whose name was familiar all over England. She had heard it said that hemight one day be Prime Minister. He was known to have refused office inthe interests of his profession, preferring to remain a simple Memberfor a Scotch constituency.

  Tuppence went back to her pantry thoughtfully. The great man hadimpressed her. She understood Boris’s agitation. Peel Edgerton would notbe an easy man to deceive.

  In about a quarter of an hour the bell rang, and Tuppence repaired tothe hall to show the visitor out. He had given her a piercing glancebefore. Now, as she handed him his hat and stick, she was conscious ofhis eyes raking her through. As she opened the door and stood aside tolet him pass out, he stopped in the doorway.

  “Not been doing this long, eh?”

  Tuppence raised her eyes, astonished. She read in his glance kindliness,and something else more difficult to fathom.

  He nodded as though she had answered.

  “V.A.D. and hard up, I suppose?”

  “Did Mrs. Vandemeyer tell you that?” asked Tuppence suspiciously.

  “No, child. The look of you told me. Good place here?”

  “Very good, thank you, sir.”

  “Ah, but there are plenty of good places nowadays. And a change does noharm sometimes.”

  “Do you mean----?” began Tuppence.

  But Sir James was already on the topmost stair. He looked back with hiskindly, shrewd glance.

  “Just a hint,” he said. “That’s all.”

  Tuppence went back to the pantry more thoughtful than ever.