Chapter XVII. Annette

by Agatha Christie

　　The troubles of the future, however, soon faded before thetroubles of the present. And of these, the most immediate andpressing was that of hunger. Tommy had a healthy and vigorousappetite. The steak and chips partaken of for lunch seemed now tobelong to another decade. He regretfully recognized the factthat he would not make a success of a hunger strike.He prowled aimlessly about his prison. Once or twice hediscarded dignity, and pounded on the door. But nobody answeredthe summons."Hang it all!" said Tommy indignantly. "They can't mean tostarve me to death." A new-born fear passed through his mindthat this might, perhaps, be one of those "pretty ways" of makinga prisoner speak, which had been attributed to Boris. But onreflection he dismissed the idea."It's that sour faced brute Conrad," he decided. "That's afellow I shall enjoy getting even with one of these days. This isjust a bit of spite on his part. I'm certain of it."Further meditations induced in him the feeling that it would beextremely pleasant to bring something down with a whack onConrad's egg-shaped head. Tommy stroked his own head tenderly,and gave himself up to the pleasures of imagination. Finally abright idea flashed across his brain. Why not convert imaginationinto reality? Conrad was undoubtedly the tenant of the house.The others, with the possible exception of the bearded German,merely used it as a rendezvous. Therefore, why not wait inambush for Conrad behind the door, and when he entered bring downa chair, or one of the decrepit pictures, smartly on to his head.One would, of course, be careful not to hit too hard. Andthen--and then, simply walk out! If he met anyone on the waydown, well----Tommy brightened at the thought of an encounterwith his fists. Such an affair was infinitely more in his linethan the verbal encounter of this afternoon. Intoxicated by hisplan, Tommy gently unhooked the picture of the Devil and Faust,and settled himself in position. His hopes were high. The planseemed to him simple but excellent.Time went on, but Conrad did not appear. Night and day were thesame in this prison room, but Tommy's wrist-watch, which enjoyeda certain degree of accuracy, informed him that it was nineo'clock in the evening. Tommy reflected gloomily that if supperdid not arrive soon it would be a question of waiting forbreakfast. At ten o'clock hope deserted him, and he flunghimself on the bed to seek consolation in sleep. In five minuteshis woes were forgotten.The sound of the key turning in the lock awoke him from hisslumbers. Not belonging to the type of hero who is famous forawaking in full possession of his faculties, Tommy merely blinkedat the ceiling and wondered vaguely where he was. Then heremembered, and looked at his watch. It was eight o'clock."It's either early morning tea or breakfast," deduced the youngman, "and pray God it's the latter!"The door swung open. Too late, Tommy remembered his scheme ofobliterating the unprepossessing Conrad. A moment later he wasglad that he had, for it was not Conrad who entered, but a girl.She carried a tray which she set down on the table.In the feeble light of the gas burner Tommy blinked at her. Hedecided at once that she was one of the most beautiful girls hehad ever seen. Her hair was a full rich brown, with sudden glintsof gold in it as though there were imprisoned sunbeams strugglingin its depths. There was a wild-rose quality about her face. Hereyes, set wide apart, were hazel, a golden hazel that againrecalled a memory of sunbeams.A delirious thought shot through Tommy's mind."Are you Jane Finn?" he asked breathlessly.The girl shook her head wonderingly."My name is Annette, monsieur."She spoke in a soft, broken English."Oh!" said Tommy, rather taken aback. "Francaise?" he hazarded."Oui, monsieur. Monsieur parle francais?""Not for any length of time," said Tommy. "What's that?Breakfast?"The girl nodded. Tommy dropped off the bed and came andinspected the contents of the tray. It consisted of a loaf, somemargarine, and a jug of coffee."The living is not equal to the Ritz," he observed with a sigh."But for what we are at last about to receive the Lord has mademe truly thankful. Amen."He drew up a chair, and the girl turned away to the door."Wait a sec," cried Tommy. "There are lots of things I want toask you, Annette. What are you doing in this house? Don't tellme you're Conrad's niece, or daughter, or anything, because Ican't believe it.""I do the service, monsieur. I am not related to anybody.""I see," said Tommy. "You know what I asked you just now. Haveyou ever heard that name?""I have heard people speak of Jane Finn, I think.""You don't know where she is?"Annette shook her head."She's not in this house, for instance?""Oh no, monsieur. I must go now--they will be waiting for me."She hurried out. The key turned in the lock."I wonder who 'they' are," mused Tommy, as he continued to makeinroads on the loaf. "With a bit of luck, that girl might helpme to get out of here. She doesn't look like one of the gang."At one o'clock Annette reappeared with another tray, but thistime Conrad accompanied her."Good morning," said Tommy amiably. "You have not used Pear'ssoap, I see."Conrad growled threateningly."No light repartee, have you, old bean? There, there, we can'talways have brains as well as beauty. What have we for lunch?Stew? How did I know? Elementary, my dear Watson--the smell ofonions is unmistakable.""Talk away," grunted the man. "It's little enough time you'llhave to talk in, maybe."The remark was unpleasant in its suggestion, but Tommy ignoredit. He sat down at the table."Retire, varlet," he said, with a wave of his hand. "Prate not tothy betters."That evening Tommy sat on the bed, and cogitated deeply. WouldConrad again accompany the girl? If he did not, should he risktrying to make an ally of her? He decided that he must leave nostone unturned. His position was desperate.At eight o'clock the familiar sound of the key turning made himspring to his feet. The girl was alone."Shut the door," he commanded. "I want to speak to you." Sheobeyed."Look here, Annette, I want you to help me get out of this." Sheshook her head."Impossible. There are three of them on the floor below.""Oh!" Tommy was secretly grateful for the information. "But youwould help me if you could?""No, monsieur.""Why not?"The girl hesitated."I think--they are my own people. You have spied upon them. Theyare quite right to keep you here.""They're a bad lot, Annette. If you'll help me, I'll take youaway from the lot of them. And you'd probably get a good whackof money."But the girl merely shook her head."I dare not, monsieur; I am afraid of them."She turned away."Wouldn't you do anything to help another girl?" cried Tommy."She's about your age too. Won't you save her from theirclutches?""You mean Jane Finn?""Yes.""It is her you came here to look for? Yes?""That's it."The girl looked at him, then passed her hand across her forehead."Jane Finn. Always I hear that name. It is familiar."Tommy came forward eagerly."You must know something about her?"But the girl turned away abruptly."I know nothing--only the name." She walked towards the door.Suddenly she uttered a cry. Tommy stared. She had caught sightof the picture he had laid against the wall the night before. Fora moment he caught a look of terror in her eyes. As inexplicablyit changed to relief. Then abruptly she went out of the room.Tommy could make nothing of it. Did she fancy that he had meantto attack her with it? Surely not. He rehung the picture on thewall thoughtfully.Three more days went by in dreary inaction. Tommy felt thestrain telling on his nerves. He saw no one but Conrad andAnnette, and the girl had become dumb. She spoke only inmonosyllables. A kind of dark suspicion smouldered in her eyes.Tommy felt that if this solitary confinement went on much longerhe would go mad. He gathered from Conrad that they were waitingfor orders from "Mr. Brown." Perhaps, thought Tommy, he wasabroad or away, and they were obliged to wait for his return.But the evening of the third day brought a rude awakening.It was barely seven o'clock when he heard the tramp of footstepsoutside in the passage. In another minute the door was flungopen. Conrad entered. With him was the evil-looking Number 14.Tommy's heart sank at the sight of them."Evenin', gov'nor," said the man with a leer. "Got those ropes,mate?"The silent Conrad produced a length of fine cord. The nextminute Number 14's hands, horribly dexterous, were winding thecord round his limbs, while Conrad held him down."What the devil----?" began Tommy.But the slow, speechless grin of the silent Conrad froze thewords on his lips.Number 14 proceeded deftly with his task. In another minuteTommy was a mere helpless bundle. Then at last Conrad spoke:"Thought you'd bluffed us, did you? With what you knew, and whatyou didn't know. Bargained with us! And all the time it wasbluff! Bluff! You know less than a kitten. But your number's upnow all right, you b----swine."Tommy lay silent. There was nothing to say. He had failed.Somehow or other the omnipotent Mr. Brown had seen through hispretensions. Suddenly a thought occurred to him."A very good speech, Conrad," he said approvingly. "But whereforethe bonds and fetters? Why not let this kind gentleman here cutmy throat without delay?""Garn," said Number 14 unexpectedly. "Think we're as green as todo you in here, and have the police nosing round? Not 'alf!We've ordered the carriage for your lordship to-morrow mornin',but in the meantime we're not taking any chances, see!""Nothing," said Tommy, "could be plainer than your words--unlessit was your face.""Stow it," said Number 14."With pleasure," replied Tommy. "You're making a sadmistake--but yours will be the loss.""You don't kid us that way again," said Number 14. "Talking asthough you were still at the blooming Ritz, aren't you?"Tommy made no reply. He was engaged in wondering how Mr. Brownhad discovered his identity. He decided that Tuppence, in thethroes of anxiety, had gone to the police, and that hisdisappearance having been made public the gang had not been slowto put two and two together.The two men departed and the door slammed. Tommy was left to hismeditations. They were not pleasant ones. Already his limbs feltcramped and stiff. He was utterly helpless, and he could see nohope anywhere.About an hour had passed when he heard the key softly turned, andthe door opened. It was Annette. Tommy's heart beat a littlefaster. He had forgotten the girl. Was it possible that she hadcome to his help?Suddenly he heard Conrad's voice:"Come out of it, Annette. He doesn't want any supper to-night.""Oui, oui, je sais bien. But I must take the other tray. We needthe things on it.""Well, hurry up," growled Conrad.Without looking at Tommy the girl went over to the table, andpicked up the tray. She raised a hand and turned out the light."Curse you"--Conrad had come to the door--"why did you do that?""I always turn it out. You should have told me. Shall I relightit, Monsieur Conrad?""No, come on out of it.""Le beau petit monsieur," cried Annette, pausing by the bed inthe darkness. "You have tied him up well, hein? He is like atrussed chicken!" The frank amusement in her tone jarred on theboy; but at that moment, to his amazement, he felt her handrunning lightly over his bonds, and something small and cold waspressed into the palm of his hand."Come on, Annette.""Mais me voila."The door shut. Tommy heard Conrad say:"Lock it and give me the key."The footsteps died away. Tommy lay petrified with amazement. Theobject Annette had thrust into his hand was a small penknife, theblade open. From the way she had studiously avoided looking athim, and her action with the light, he came to the conclusionthat the room was overlooked. There must be a peep-hole somewherein the walls. Remembering how guarded she had always been in hermanner, he saw that he had probably been under observation allthe time. Had he said anything to give himself away? Hardly. Hehad revealed a wish to escape and a desire to find Jane Finn, butnothing that could have given a clue to his own identity. True,his question to Annette had proved that he was personallyunacquainted with Jane Finn, but he had never pretendedotherwise. The question now was, did Annette really know more?Were her denials intended primarily for the listeners? On thatpoint he could come to no conclusion.But there was a more vital question that drove out all others.Could he, bound as he was, manage to cut his bonds? He essayedcautiously to rub the open blade up and down on the cord thatbound his two wrists together. It was an awkward business, anddrew a smothered "Ow" of pain from him as the knife cut into hiswrist. But slowly and doggedly he went on sawing to and fro. Hecut the flesh badly, but at last he felt the cord slacken. Withhis hands free, the rest was easy. Five minutes later he stoodupright with some difficulty, owing to the cramp in his limbs.His first care was to bind up his bleeding wrist. Then he sat onthe edge of the bed to think. Conrad had taken the key of thedoor, so he could expect little more assistance from Annette.The only outlet from the room was the door, consequently he wouldperforce have to wait until the two men returned to fetch him.But when they did . . . Tommy smiled! Moving with infinitecaution in the dark room, he found and unhooked the famouspicture. He felt an economical pleasure that his first plan wouldnot be wasted. There was now nothing to do but to wait. Hewaited.The night passed slowly. Tommy lived through an eternity ofhours, but at last he heard footsteps. He stood upright, drew adeep breath, and clutched the picture firmly.The door opened. A faint light streamed in from outside. Conradwent straight towards the gas to light it. Tommy deeply regrettedthat it was he who had entered first. It would have been pleasantto get even with Conrad. Number 14 followed. As he steppedacross the threshold, Tommy brought the picture down withterrific force on his head. Number 14 went down amidst astupendous crash of broken glass. In a minute Tommy had slippedout and pulled to the door. The key was in the lock. He turnedit and withdrew it just as Conrad hurled himself against the doorfrom the inside with a volley of curses.For a moment Tommy hesitated. There was the sound of some onestirring on the floor below. Then the German's voice came up thestairs."Gott im Himmel! Conrad, what is it?"Tommy felt a small hand thrust into his. Beside him stoodAnnette. She pointed up a rickety ladder that apparently led tosome attics."Quick--up here!" She dragged him after her up the ladder. Inanother moment they were standing in a dusty garret littered withlumber. Tommy looked round."This won't do. It's a regular trap. There's no way out.""Hush! Wait." The girl put her finger to her lips. She crept tothe top of the ladder and listened.The banging and beating on the door was terrific. The German andanother were trying to force the door in. Annette explained in awhisper:"They will think you are still inside. They cannot hear whatConrad says. The door is too thick.""I thought you could hear what went on in the room?""There is a peep-hole into the next room. It was clever of youto guess. But they will not think of that--they are only anxiousto get in.""Yes--but look here----""Leave it to me." She bent down. To his amazement, Tommy sawthat she was fastening the end of a long piece of string to thehandle of a big cracked jug. She arranged it carefully, thenturned to Tommy."Have you the key of the door?""Yes.""Give it to me."He handed it to her."I am going down. Do you think you can go halfway, and thenswing yourself down behind the ladder, so that they will not seeyou?"Tommy nodded."There's a big cupboard in the shadow of the landing. Standbehind it. Take the end of this string in your hand. When I'velet the others out--pull!"Before he had time to ask her anything more, she had flittedlightly down the ladder and was in the midst of the group with aloud cry:"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Qu'est-ce qu'il y a?"The German turned on her with an oath."Get out of this. Go to your room!"Very cautiously Tommy swung himself down the back of the ladder.So long as they did not turn round ... all was well. He crouchedbehind the cupboard. They were still between him and the stairs."Ah!" Annette appeared to stumble over something. She stooped."Mon Dieu, voila la clef!"The German snatched it from her. He unlocked the door. Conradstumbled out, swearing."Where is he? Have you got him?""We have seen no one," said the German sharply. His face paled."Who do you mean?"Conrad gave vent to another oath."He's got away.""Impossible. He would have passed us."At that moment, with an ecstatic smile Tommy pulled the string. Acrash of crockery came from the attic above. In a trice the menwere pushing each other up the rickety ladder and had disappearedinto the darkness above.Quick as a flash Tommy leapt from his hiding-place and dasheddown the stairs, pulling the girl with him. There was no one inthe hall. He fumbled over the bolts and chain. At last theyyielded, the door swung open. He turned. Annette haddisappeared.Tommy stood spell-bound. Had she run upstairs again? Whatmadness possessed her! He fumed with impatience, but he stoodhis ground. He would not go without her.And suddenly there was an outcry overhead, an exclamation fromthe German, and then Annette's voice, clear and high:"Ma foi, he has escaped! And quickly! Who would have thoughtit?"Tommy still stood rooted to the ground. Was that a command tohim to go? He fancied it was.And then, louder still, the words floated down to him:"This is a terrible house. I want to go back to Marguerite. ToMarguerite. To Marguerite!"Tommy had run back to the stairs. She wanted him to go and leaveher. But why? At all costs he must try and get her away withhim. Then his heart sank. Conrad was leaping down the stairs,uttering a savage cry at the sight of him. After him came theothers.Tommy stopped Conrad's rush with a straight blow with his fist.It caught the other on the point of the jaw and he fell like alog. The second man tripped over his body and fell. From higherup the staircase there was a flash, and a bullet grazed Tommy'sear. He realized that it would be good for his health to get outof this house as soon as possible. As regards Annette he coulddo nothing. He had got even with Conrad, which was onesatisfaction. The blow had been a good one.He leapt for the door, slamming it behind him. The square wasdeserted. In front of the house was a baker's van. Evidently hewas to have been taken out of London in that, and his body foundmany miles from the house in Soho. The driver jumped to thepavement and tried to bar Tommy's way. Again Tommy's fist shotout, and the driver sprawled on the pavement.Tommy took to his heels and ran--none too soon. The front dooropened and a hail of bullets followed him. Fortunately none ofthem hit him. He turned the corner of the square."There's one thing," he thought to himself, "they can't go onshooting. They'll have the police after them if they do. Iwonder they dared to there."He heard the footsteps of his pursuers behind him, and redoubledhis own pace. Once he got out of these by-ways he would be safe.There would be a policeman about somewhere--not that he reallywanted to invoke the aid of the police if he could possibly dowithout it. It meant explanations, and general awkwardness. Inanother moment he had reason to bless his luck. He stumbled overa prostrate figure, which started up with a yell of alarm anddashed off down the street. Tommy drew back into a doorway. In aminute he had the pleasure of seeing his two pursuers, of whomthe German was one, industriously tracking down the red herring!Tommy sat down quietly on the doorstep and allowed a few momentsto elapse while he recovered his breath. Then he strolled gentlyin the opposite direction. He glanced at his watch. It was alittle after half-past five. It was rapidly growing light. Atthe next corner he passed a policeman. The policeman cast asuspicious eye on him. Tommy felt slightly offended. Then,passing his hand over his face, he laughed. He had not shaved orwashed for three days! What a guy he must look.He betook himself without more ado to a Turkish Bathestablishment which he knew to be open all night. He emerged intothe busy daylight feeling himself once more, and able to makeplans.First of all, he must have a square meal. He had eaten nothingsince midday yesterday. He turned into an A.B.C. shop andordered eggs and bacon and coffee. Whilst he ate, he read amorning paper propped up in front of him. Suddenly he stiffened.There was a long article on Kramenin, who was described as the"man behind Bolshevism" in Russia, and who had just arrived inLondon--some thought as an unofficial envoy. His career wassketched lightly, and it was firmly asserted that he, and not thefigurehead leaders, had been the author of the RussianRevolution.In the centre of the page was his portrait."So that's who Number 1 is," said Tommy with his mouth full ofeggs and bacon. "Not a doubt about it, I must push on."He paid for his breakfast, and betook himself to Whitehall. Therehe sent up his name, and the message that it was urgent. A fewminutes later he was in the presence of the man who did not herego by the name of "Mr. Carter." There was a frown on his face."Look here, you've no business to come asking for me in this way.I thought that was distinctly understood?""It was, sir. But I judged it important to lose no time."And as briefly and succinctly as possible he detailed theexperiences of the last few days.Half-way through, Mr. Carter interrupted him to give a fewcryptic orders through the telephone. All traces of displeasurehad now left his face. He nodded energetically when Tommy hadfinished."Quite right. Every moment's of value. Fear we shall be toolate anyway. They wouldn't wait. Would clear out at once.Still, they may have left something behind them that will be aclue. You say you've recognized Number 1 to be Kramenin? That'simportant. We want something against him badly to prevent theCabinet falling on his neck too freely. What about the others?You say two faces were familiar to you? One's a Labour man, youthink? Just look through these photos, and see if you can spothim."A minute later, Tommy held one up. Mr. Carter exhibited somesurprise."Ah, Westway! Shouldn't have thought it. Poses as beingmoderate. As for the other fellow, I think I can give a goodguess." He handed another photograph to Tommy, and smiled at theother's exclamation. "I'm right, then. Who is he? Irishman.Prominent Unionist M.P. All a blind, of course. We've suspectedit--but couldn't get any proof. Yes, you've done very well, youngman. The 29th, you say, is the date. That gives us very littletime--very little time indeed.""But----" Tommy hesitated.Mr. Carter read his thoughts."We can deal with the General Strike menace, I think. It's atoss-up--but we've got a sporting chance! But if that drafttreaty turns up--we're done. England will be plunged in anarchy.Ah, what's that? The car? Come on, Beresford, we'll go and havea look at this house of yours."Two constables were on duty in front of the house in Soho. Aninspector reported to Mr. Carter in a low voice. The latterturned to Tommy."The birds have flown--as we thought. We might as well go overit."Going over the deserted house seemed to Tommy to partake of thecharacter of a dream. Everything was just as it had been. Theprison room with the crooked pictures, the broken jug in theattic, the meeting room with its long table. But nowhere wasthere a trace of papers. Everything of that kind had either beendestroyed or taken away. And there was no sign of Annette."What you tell me about the girl puzzled me," said Mr. Carter."You believe that she deliberately went back?""It would seem so, sir. She ran upstairs while I was getting.the door open.""H'm, she must belong to the gang, then; but, being a woman,didn't feel like standing by to see a personable young mankilled. But evidently she's in with them, or she wouldn't havegone back.""I can't believe she's really one of them, sir. She--seemed sodifferent----""Good-looking, I suppose?" said Mr. Carter with a smile that madeTommy flush to the roots of his hair. He admitted Annette'sbeauty rather shamefacedly."By the way," observed Mr. Carter, "have you shown yourself toMiss Tuppence yet? She's been bombarding me with letters aboutyou.""Tuppence? I was afraid she might get a bit rattled. Did she goto the police?"Mr. Carter shook his head."Then I wonder how they twigged me."Mr. Carter looked inquiringly at him, and Tommy explained. Theother nodded thoughtfully."True, that's rather a curious point. Unless the mention of theRitz was an accidental remark?""It might have been, sir. But they must have found out about mesuddenly in some way.""Well," said Mr. Carter, looking round him, "there's nothing moreto be done here. What about some lunch with me?""Thanks awfully, sir. But I think I'd better get back and routout Tuppence.""Of course. Give her my kind regards and tell her not to believeyou're killed too readily next time."Tommy grinned."I take a lot of killing, sir.""So I perceive," said Mr. Carter dryly. "Well, good-bye.Remember you're a marked man now, and take reasonable care ofyourself.""Thank you, sir."Hailing a taxi briskly Tommy stepped in, and was swiftly borne tothe Ritz' dwelling the while on the pleasurable anticipation ofstartling Tuppence."Wonder what she's been up to. Dogging 'Rita' most likely. Bythe way, I suppose that's who Annette meant by Marguerite. Ididn't get it at the time." The thought saddened him a little,for it seemed to prove that Mrs. Vandemeyer and the girl were onintimate terms.The taxi drew up at the Ritz. Tommy burst into its sacredportals eagerly, but his enthusiasm received a check. He wasinformed that Miss Cowley had gone out a quarter of an hour ago.