Chapter XXVI. Mr. Brown

by Agatha Christie

　　Sir James's words came like a bomb-shell. Both girls lookedequally puzzled. The lawyer went across to his desk, and returnedwith a small newspaper cutting, which he handed to Jane.Tuppence read it over her shoulder. Mr. Carter would haverecognized it. It referred to the mysterious man found dead inNew York."As I was saying to Miss Tuppence," resumed the lawyer, "I set towork to prove the impossible possible. The great stumbling-blockwas the undeniable fact that Julius Hersheimmer was not anassumed name. When I came across this paragraph my problem wassolved. Julius Hersheimmer set out to discover what had become ofhis cousin. He went out West, where he obtained news of her andher photograph to aid him in his search. On the eve of hisdeparture from New York he was set upon and murdered. His bodywas dressed in shabby clothes, and the face disfigured to preventidentification. Mr. Brown took his place. He sailed immediatelyfor England. None of the real Hersheimmer's friends or intimatessaw him before he sailed--though indeed it would hardly havemattered if they had, the impersonation was so perfect. Sincethen he had been hand and glove with those sworn to hunt himdown. Every secret of theirs has been known to him. Only oncedid he come near disaster. Mrs. Vandemeyer knew his secret. Itwas no part of his plan that that huge bribe should ever beoffered to her. But for Miss Tuppence's fortunate change ofplan, she would have been far away from the flat when we arrivedthere. Exposure stared him in the face. He took a desperatestep, trusting in his assumed character to avert suspicion. Henearly 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. Brownis a consummate actor. But ask Miss Tuppence if she also has nothad 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, ifhe's Mr. Brown, he rescued us.""Was it Julius Hersheimmer who helped you to escape?"Tuppence recounted to Sir James the exciting events of theevening, ending up: "But I can't see why!""Can't you? I can. So can young Beresford, by his actions. As alast hope Jane Finn was to be allowed to escape--and the escapemust be managed so that she harbours no suspicions of its being aput-up job. They're not averse to young Beresford's being in theneighbourhood, and, if necessary, communicating with you. They'lltake care to get him out of the way at the right minute. ThenJulius Hersheimmer dashes up and rescues you in true melodramaticstyle. Bullets fly--but don't hit anybody. What would havehappened next? You would have driven straight to the house inSoho and secured the document which Miss Finn would probably haveentrusted to her cousin's keeping. Or, if he conducted thesearch, he would have pretended to find the hiding-place alreadyrifled. He would have had a dozen ways of dealing with thesituation, but the result would have been the same. And I ratherfancy 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--hewas too sharp for them. All the same, I'm not too easy in mymind 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 hasstill got the upper hand, there's nothing to fear. If otherwise,our enemy will come to find us, and he will not find usunprepared!" From a drawer in the desk, he took a servicerevolver, and placed it in his coat pocket."Now we're ready. I know better than even to suggest goingwithout you, Miss Tuppence----""I should think so indeed!""But I do suggest that Miss Finn should remain here. She will beperfectly safe, and I am afraid she is absolutely worn out withall 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 mustgo through with this business to the end. I'm heaps better nowanyway."Sir James's car was ordered round. During the short driveTuppence's heart beat tumultuously. In spite of momentary qualmsof uneasiness respecting Tommy, she could not but feelexultation. They were going to win!The car drew up at the corner of the square and they got out. SirJames went up to a plain-clothes man who was on duty with severalothers, and spoke to him. Then he rejoined the girls."No one has gone into the house so far. It is being watched atthe back as well, so they are quite sure of that. Anyone whoattempts to enter after we have done so will be arrestedimmediately. Shall we go in?"A policeman produced a key. They all knew Sir James well. Theyhad also had orders respecting Tuppence. Only the third memberof the party was unknown to them. The three entered the house,pulling the door to behind them. Slowly they mounted the ricketystairs. At the top was the ragged curtain hiding the recess whereTommy had hidden that day. Tuppence had heard the story fromJane in her character of "Annette." She looked at the tatteredvelvet with interest. Even now she could almost swear itmoved--as though some one was behind it. So strong was theillusion that she almost fancied she could make out the outlineof a form.... Supposing Mr. Brown--Julius--was there waiting....Impossible of course! Yet she almost went back to put thecurtain aside and make sure....Now they were entering the prison room. No place for anyone tohide here, thought Tuppence, with a sigh of relief, then chidedherself indignantly. She must not give way to this foolishfancying--this curious insistent feeling that Mr. Brown was inthe house.... Hark! what was that? A stealthy footstep on thestairs? There was some one in the house! Absurd! She wasbecoming hysterical.Jane had gone straight to the picture of Marguerite. Sheunhooked it with a steady hand. The dust lay thick upon it, andfestoons of cobwebs lay between it and the wall. Sir Jameshanded her a pocket-knife, and she ripped away the brown paperfrom the back.... The advertisement page of a magazine fell out.Jane picked it up. Holding apart the frayed inner edges sheextracted two thin sheets covered with writing!No dummy this time! The real thing!"We've got it," said Tuppence. "At last...."The moment was almost breathless in its emotion. Forgotten thefaint creakings, the imagined noises of a minute ago. None ofthem had eyes for anything but what Jane held in her hand.Sir James took it, and scrutinized it attentively."Yes," he said quietly, "this is the ill-fated draft treaty!""We've succeeded," said Tuppence. There was awe and an almostwondering unbelief in her voice.Sir James echoed her words as he folded the paper carefully andput it away in his pocket-book, then he looked curiously roundthe dingy room."It was here that our young friend was confined for so long, wasit not?" he said. "A truly sinister room. You notice theabsence of windows, and the thickness of the close-fitting door.Whatever took place here would never be heard by the outsideworld."Tuppence shivered. His words woke a vague alarm in her. What ifthere was some one concealed in the house? Some one who might barthat door on them, and leave them to die like rats in a trap?Then she realized the absurdity of her thought. The house wassurrounded by police who, if they failed to reappear, would nothesitate to break in and make a thorough search. She smiled ather own foolishness--then looked up with a start to find SirJames watching her. He gave her an emphatic little nod."Quite right, Miss Tuppence. You scent danger. So do I. So doesMiss Finn.""Yes," admitted Jane. "It's absurd--but I can't help it."Sir James nodded again."You feel--as we all feel--the presence of Mr. Brown. Yes"--asTuppence made a movement--"not a doubt of it--Mr. Brown ishere....""In this house?""In this room.... You don't understand? I am Mr. Brown...."Stupefied, unbelieving, they stared at him. The very lines ofhis face had changed. It was a different man who stood beforethem. He smiled a slow cruel smile."Neither of you will leave this room alive! You said just now wehad succeeded. I have succeeded! The draft treaty is mine." Hissmile grew wider as he looked at Tuppence. "Shall I tell you howit will be? Sooner or later the police will break in, and theywill find three victims of Mr. Brown--three, not two, youunderstand, but fortunately the third will not be dead, onlywounded, and will be able to describe the attack with a wealth ofdetail! The treaty? It is in the hands of Mr. Brown. So no onewill think of searching the pockets of Sir James Peel Edgerton!"He turned to Jane."You outwitted me. I make my acknowledgments. But you will notdo it again."There was a faint sound behind him, but, intoxicated withsuccess, he did not turn his head.He slipped his hand into his pocket."Checkmate to the Young Adventurers," he said, and slowly raisedthe big automatic.But, even as he did so, he felt himself seized from behind in agrip of iron. The revolver was wrenched from his hand, and thevoice of Julius Hersheimmer said drawlingly:"I guess you're caught redhanded with the goods upon you."The blood rushed to the K.C.'s face, but his self-control wasmarvellous, as he looked from one to the other of his twocaptors. He looked longest at Tommy."You," he said beneath his breath. "You! I might have known."Seeing that he was disposed to offer no resistance, their gripslackened. Quick as a flash his left hand, the hand which borethe big signet ring, was raised to his lips...." 'Ave, Caesar! te morituri salutant,' " he said, still lookingat Tommy.Then his face changed, and with a long convulsive shudder he fellforward in a crumpled heap, whilst an odour of bitter almondsfilled the air.