Chapter XXIII. A Race Against Time

by Agatha Christie

　　After ringing up Sir James, Tommy's next procedure was to make acall at South Audley Mansions. He found Albert discharging hisprofessional duties, and introduced himself without more ado as afriend of Tuppence's. Albert unbent immediately."Things has been very quiet here lately," he said wistfully."Hope the young lady's keeping well, sir?""That's just the point, Albert. She's disappeared." You don'tmean as the crooks have got her?""In the Underworld?""No, dash it all, in this world!""It's a h'expression, sir," explained Albert. "At the picturesthe crooks always have a restoorant in the Underworld. But doyou think as they've done her in, sir?""I hope not. By the way, have you by any chance an aunt, acousin, a grandmother, or any other suitable female relation whomight be represented as being likely to kick the bucket?"A delighted grin spread slowly over Albert's countenance."I'm on, sir. My poor aunt what lives in the country has beenmortal bad for a long time, and she's asking for me with herdying breath."Tommy nodded approval."Can you report this in the proper quarter and meet me at CharingCross in an hour's time?""I'll be there, sir. You can count on me."As Tommy had judged, the faithful Albert proved an invaluableally. The two took up their quarters at the inn in Gatehouse. ToAlbert fell the task of collecting information There was nodifficulty about it.Astley Priors was the property of a Dr. Adams. The doctor nolonger practiced, had retired, the landlord believed, but he tooka few private patients--here the good fellow tapped his foreheadknowingly--"balmy ones! You understand!" The doctor was apopular figure in the village, subscribed freely to all the localsports--"a very pleasant, affable gentleman." Been there long?Oh, a matter of ten years or so--might be longer. Scientificgentleman, he was. Professors and people often came down fromtown to see him. Anyway, it was a gay house, always visitors.In the face of all this volubility, Tommy felt doubts. Was itpossible that this genial, well-known figure could be in realitya dangerous criminal? His life seemed so open and aboveboard. Nohint of sinister doings. Suppose it was all a gigantic mistake?Tommy felt a cold chill at the thought.Then he remembered the private patients--"balmy ones." Heinquired carefully if there was a young lady amongst them,describing Tuppence. But nothing much seemed to be known aboutthe patients--they were seldom seen outside the grounds. Aguarded description of Annette also failed to provokerecognition.Astley Priors was a pleasant red-brick edifice, surrounded bywell-wooded grounds which effectually shielded the house fromobservation from the road.On the first evening Tommy, accompanied by Albert, explored thegrounds. Owing to Albert's insistence they dragged themselvesalong painfully on their stomachs, thereby producing a great dealmore noise than if they had stood upright. In any case, theseprecautions were totally unnecessary. The grounds, like those ofany other private house after nightfall, seemed untenanted.Tommy had imagined a possible fierce watchdog. Albert's fancy ranto a puma, or a tame cobra. But they reached a shrubbery nearthe house quite unmolested.The blinds of the dining-room window were up. There was a largecompany assembled round the table. The port was passing fromhand to hand. It seemed a normal, pleasant company. Through theopen window scraps of conversation floated out disjointedly onthe night air. It was a heated discussion on county cricket!Again Tommy felt that cold chill of uncertainty. It seemedimpossible to believe that these people were other than theyseemed. Had he been fooled once more? The fair-bearded,spectacled gentleman who sat at the head of the table lookedsingularly honest and normal.Tommy slept badly that night. The following morning theindefatigable Albert, having cemented an alliance with thegreengrocer's boy, took the latter's place and ingratiatedhimself with the cook at Malthouse. He returned with theinformation that she was undoubtedly "one of the crooks," butTommy mistrusted the vividness of his imagination. Questioned,he could adduce nothing in support of his statement except hisown opinion that she wasn't the usual kind. You could see thatat a glance.The substitution being repeated (much to the pecuniary advantageof the real greengrocer's boy) on the following day, Albertbrought back the first piece of hopeful news. There was a Frenchyoung lady staying in the house. Tommy put his doubts aside.Here was confirmation of his theory. But time pressed. To-daywas the 27th. The 29th was the much-talked-of "Labour Day,"about which all sorts of rumours were running riot. Newspaperswere getting agitated. Sensational hints of a Labour coup d'etatwere freely reported. The Government said nothing. It knew andwas prepared. There were rumours of dissension among the Labourleaders. They were not of one mind. The more far-seeing amongthem realized that what they proposed might well be a death-blowto the England that at heart they loved. They shrank from thestarvation and misery a general strike would entail, and werewilling to meet the Government half-way. But behind them weresubtle, insistent forces at work, urging the memories of oldwrongs, deprecating the weakness of half-and-half measures,fomenting misunderstandings.Tommy felt that, thanks to Mr. Carter, he understood the positionfairly accurately. With the fatal document in the hands of Mr.Brown, public opinion would swing to the side of the Labourextremists and revolutionists. Failing that, the battle was aneven chance. The Government with a loyal army and police forcebehind them might win--but at a cost of great suffering. ButTommy nourished another and a preposterous dream. With Mr. Brownunmasked and captured he believed, rightly or wrongly, that thewhole organization would crumble ignominiously andinstantaneously. The strange permeating influence of the unseenchief held it together. Without him, Tommy believed an instantpanic would set in; and, the honest men left to themselves, aneleventh-hour reconciliation would be possible."This is a one-man show," said Tommy to himself. "The thing to dois to get hold of the man."It was partly in furtherance of this ambitious design that he hadrequested Mr. Carter not to open the sealed envelope. The drafttreaty was Tommy's bait. Every now and then he was aghast at hisown presumption. How dared he think that he had discovered whatso many wiser and clever men had overlooked? Nevertheless, hestuck tenaciously to his idea.That evening he and Albert once more penetrated the grounds ofAstley Priors. Tommy's ambition was somehow or other to gainadmission to the house itself. As they approached cautiously,Tommy gave a sudden gasp.On the second floor window some one standing between the windowand the light in the room threw a silhouette on the blind. It wasone Tommy would have recognized anywhere! Tuppence was in thathouse!He clutched Albert by the shoulder."Stay here! When I begin to sing, watch that window."He retreated hastily to a position on the main drive, and beganin a deep roar, coupled with an unsteady gait, the followingditty:I am a SoldierA jolly British Soldier;You can see that I'm a Soldier by my feet . . .It had been a favourite on the gramophone in Tuppence's hospitaldays. He did not doubt but that she would recognize it and drawher own conclusions. Tommy had not a note of music in his voice,but his lungs were excellent. The noise he produced was terrific.Presently an unimpeachable butler, accompanied by an equallyunimpeachable footman, issued from the front door. The butlerremonstrated with him. Tommy continued to sing, addressing thebutler affectionately as "dear old whiskers." The footman tookhim by one arm, the butler by the other. They ran him down thedrive, and neatly out of the gate. The butler threatened him withthe police if he intruded again. It was beautifully done--soberlyand with perfect decorum. Anyone would have sworn that the butlerwas a real butler, the footman a real footman--only, as ithappened, the butler was Whittington!Tommy retired to the inn and waited for Albert's return. At lastthat worthy made his appearance."Well?" cried Tommy eagerly."It's all right. While they was a-running of you out the windowopened, and something was chucked out." He handed a scrap ofpaper to Tommy. "It was wrapped round a letterweight."On the paper were scrawled three words: "To-morrow--same time.""Good egg!" cried Tommy. "We're getting going.""I wrote a message on a piece of paper, wrapped it round a stone,and chucked it through the window," continued Albertbreathlessly.Tommy groaned."Your zeal will be the undoing of us, Albert. What did you say?""Said we was a-staying at the inn. If she could get away, tocome there and croak like a frog.""She'll know that's you," said Tommy with a sigh of relief. "Yourimagination runs away with you, you know, Albert. Why, youwouldn't recognize a frog croaking if you heard it."Albert looked rather crest-fallen."Cheer up," said Tommy. "No harm done. That butler's an oldfriend of mine--I bet he knew who I was, though he didn't let on.It's not their game to show suspicion. That's why we've found itfairly plain sailing. They don't want to discourage mealtogether. On the other hand, they don't want to make it tooeasy. I'm a pawn in their game, Albert, that's what I am. Yousee, if the spider lets the fly walk out too easily, the flymight suspect it was a put-up job. Hence the usefulness of thatpromising youth, Mr. T. Beresford, who's blundered in just at theright moment for them. But later, Mr. T. Beresford had betterlook out!"Tommy retired for the night in a state of some elation. He hadelaborated a careful plan for the following evening. He felt surethat the inhabitants of Astley Priors would not interfere withhim up to a certain point. It was after that that Tommy proposedto give them a surprise.About twelve o'clock, however, his calm was rudely shaken. He wastold that some one was demanding him in the bar. The applicantproved to be a rude-looking carter well coated with mud."Well, my good fellow, what is it?" asked Tommy."Might this be for you, sir?" The carter held out a very dirtyfolded note, on the outside of which was written: "Take this tothe gentleman at the inn near Astley Priors. He will give youten shillings."The handwriting was Tuppence's. Tommy appreciated herquick-wittedness in realizing that he might be staying at the innunder an assumed name. He snatched at it."That's all right."The man withheld it."What about my ten shillings?"Tommy hastily produced a ten-shilling note, and the manrelinquished his find. Tommy unfastened it."Dear Tommy,"I knew it was you last night. Don't go this evening. They'll belying in wait for you. They're taking us away this morning. Iheard something about Wales--Holyhead, I think. I'll drop this onthe road if I get a chance. Annette told me how you'd escaped.Buck up."Yours,"Twopence."Tommy raised a shout for Albert before he had even finishedperusing this characteristic epistle."Pack my bag! We're off!""Yes, sir." The boots of Albert could be heard racing upstairs.Holyhead? Did that mean that, after all----Tommy was puzzled. Heread on slowly.The boots of Albert continued to be active on the floor above.Suddenly a second shout came from below."Albert! I'm a damned fool! Unpack that bag!""Yes, sir."Tommy smoothed out the note thoughtfully."Yes, a damned fool," he said softly. "But so's some one else!And at last I know who it is!"