Chapter XXV. Jane's Story

by Agatha Christie

　　Her arm through Jane's, dragging her along, Tuppence reached thestation. Her quick ears caught the sound of the approachingtrain."Hurry up," she panted, "or we'll miss it."They arrived on the platform just as the train came to astandstill. Tuppence opened the door of an empty first-classcompartment, and the two girls sank down breathless on the paddedseats.A man looked in, then passed on to the next carriage. Janestarted nervously. Her eyes dilated with terror. She lookedquestioningly at Tuppence."Is he one of them, do you think?" she breathed.Tuppence shook her head."No, no. It's all right." She took Jane's hand in hers. "Tommywouldn't have told us to do this unless he was sure we'd be allright.""But he doesn't know them as I do!" The girl shivered. "Youcan't understand. Five years! Five long years! Sometimes Ithought I should go mad.""Never mind. It's all over.""Is it?"The train was moving now, speeding through the night at agradually increasing rate. Suddenly Jane Finn started up."What was that? I thought I saw a face--looking in through thewindow.""No, there's nothing. See." Tuppence went to the window, andlifting the strap let the pane down."You're sure?""Quite sure."The other seemed to feel some excuse was necessary:"I guess I'm acting like a frightened rabbit, but I can't helpit. If they caught me now they'd----" Her eyes opened wide andstaring."Don't!" implored Tuppence. "Lie back, and don't think. You canbe quite sure that Tommy wouldn't have said it was safe if itwasn't.""My cousin didn't think so. He didn't want us to do this.""No," said Tuppence, rather embarrassed."What are you thinking of?" said Jane sharply."Why?""Your voice was so--queer!""I was thinking of something," confessed Tuppence. "But I don'twant to tell you--not now. I may be wrong, but I don't think so.It's just an idea that came into my head a long time ago. Tommy'sgot it too--I'm almost sure he has. But don't youworry--there'll be time enough for that later. And it mayn't beso at all! Do what I tell you--lie back and don't think ofanything.""I'll try." The long lashes drooped over the hazel eyes.Tuppence, for her part, sat bolt upright--much in the attitude ofa watchful terrier on guard. In spite of herself she wasnervous. Her eyes flashed continually from one window to theother. She noted the exact position of the communication cord.What it was that she feared, she would have been hard put to itto say. But in her own mind she was far from feeling theconfidence displayed in her words. Not that she disbelieved inTommy, but occasionally she was shaken with doubts as to whetheranyone so simple and honest as he was could ever be a match forthe fiendish subtlety of the arch-criminal.If they once reached Sir James Peel Edgerton in safety, all wouldbe well. But would they reach him? Would not the silent forcesof Mr. Brown already be assembling against them? Even that lastpicture of Tommy, revolver in hand, failed to comfort her. Bynow he might be overpowered, borne down by sheer force ofnumbers.... Tuppence mapped out her plan of campaign.As the train at length drew slowly into Charing Cross, Jane Finnsat up with a start."Have we arrived? I never thought we should!""Oh, I thought we'd get to London all right. If there's going tobe any fun, now is when it will begin. Quick, get out. We'll nipinto a taxi."In another minute they were passing the barrier, had paid thenecessary fares, and were stepping into a taxi."King's Cross," directed Tuppence. Then she gave a jump. A manlooked in at the window, just as they started. She was almostcertain it was the same man who had got into the carriage next tothem. She had a horrible feeling of being slowly hemmed in onevery side."You see," she explained to Jane, "if they think we're going toSir James, this will put them off the scent. Now they'll imaginewe're going to Mr. Carter. His country place is north of Londonsomewhere."Crossing Holborn there was a block, and the taxi was held up.This was what Tuppence had been waiting for."Quick," she whispered. "Open the right-hand door!"The two girls stepped out into the traffic. Two minutes laterthey were seated in another taxi and were retracing their steps,this time direct to Carlton House Terrace."There," said Tuppence, with great satisfaction, "this ought todo them. I can't help thinking that I'm really rather clever!How that other taxi man will swear! But I took his number, andI'll send him a postal order to-morrow, so that he won't lose byit if he happens to be genuine. What's this thingswerving----Oh!"There was a grinding noise and a bump. Another taxi had collidedwith them.In a flash Tuppence was out on the pavement. A policeman wasapproaching. Before he arrived Tuppence had handed the driverfive shillings, and she and Jane had merged themselves in thecrowd."It's only a step or two now," said Tuppence breathlessly. Theaccident had taken place in Trafalgar Square."Do you think the collision was an accident, or donedeliberately?""I don't know. It might have been either."Hand-in-hand, the two girls hurried along."It may be my fancy," said Tuppence suddenly, "but I feel asthough there was some one behind us.""Hurry!" murmured the other. "Oh, hurry!"They were now at the corner of Carlton House Terrace, and theirspirits lightened. Suddenly a large and apparently intoxicatedman barred their way."Good evening, ladies," he hiccupped. "Whither away so fast?""Let us pass, please," said Tuppence imperiously."Just a word with your pretty friend here." He stretched out anunsteady hand, and clutched Jane by the shoulder. Tuppence heardother footsteps behind. She did not pause to ascertain whetherthey were friends or foes. Lowering her head, she repeated amanoeuvre of childish days, and butted their aggressor full inthe capacious middle. The success of these unsportsmanliketactics was immediate. The man sat down abruptly on the pavement.Tuppence and Jane took to their heels. The house they sought wassome way down. Other footsteps echoed behind them. Their breathwas coming in choking gasps as they reached Sir James's door.Tuppence seized the bell and Jane the knocker.The man who had stopped them reached the foot of the steps. For amoment he hesitated, and as he did so the door opened. They fellinto the hall together. Sir James came forward from the librarydoor."Hullo! What's this?"He stepped forward, and put his arm round Jane as she swayeduncertainly. He half carried her into the library, and laid heron the leather couch. From a tantalus on the table he poured outa few drops of brandy, and forced her to drink them. With a sighshe sat up, her eyes still wild and frightened."It's all right. Don't be afraid, my child. You're quite safe."Her breath came more normally, and the colour was returning toher cheeks. Sir James looked at Tuppence quizzically."So you're not dead, Miss Tuppence, any more than that Tommy boyof yours was!""The Young Adventurers take a lot of killing," boasted Tuppence."So it seems," said Sir James dryly. "Am I right in thinkingthat the joint venture has ended in success, and that this"--heturned to the girl on the couch--"is Miss Jane Finn?"Jane sat up."Yes," she said quietly, "I am Jane Finn. I have a lot to tellyou.""When you are stronger----""No--now!" Her voice rose a little. "I shall feel safer when Ihave told everything.""As you please," said the lawyer.He sat down in one of the big arm-chairs facing the couch. In alow voice Jane began her story."I came over on the Lusitania to take up a post in Paris. I wasfearfully keen about the war, and just dying to help somehow orother. I had been studying French, and my teacher said they werewanting help in a hospital in Paris, so I wrote and offered myservices, and they were accepted. I hadn't got any folk of myown, so it made it easy to arrange things."When the Lusitania was torpedoed, a man came up to me. I'dnoticed him more than once--and I'd figured it out in my own mindthat he was afraid of somebody or something. He asked me if Iwas a patriotic American, and told me he was carrying paperswhich were just life or death to the Allies. He asked me to takecharge of them. I was to watch for an advertisement in the Times.If it didn't appear, I was to take them to the AmericanAmbassador."Most of what followed seems like a nightmare still. I see it inmy dreams sometimes.... I'll hurry over that part. Mr. Danvershad told me to watch out. He might have been shadowed from NewYork, but he didn't think so. At first I had no suspicions, buton the boat to Holyhead I began to get uneasy. There was onewoman who had been very keen to look after me, and chum up withme generally--a Mrs. Vandemeyer. At first I'd been only gratefulto her for being so kind to me; but all the time I felt there wassomething about her I didn't like, and on the Irish boat I sawher talking to some queer-looking men, and from the way theylooked I saw that they were talking about me. I remembered thatshe'd been quite near me on the Lusitania when Mr. Danvers gaveme the packet, and before that she'd tried to talk to him once ortwice. I began to get scared, but I didn't quite see what to do."I had a wild idea of stopping at Holyhead, and not going on toLondon that day, but I soon saw that that would be plumbfoolishness. The only thing was to act as though I'd noticednothing, and hope for the best. I couldn't see how they couldget me if I was on my guard. One thing I'd done already as aprecaution--ripped open the oilskin packet and substituted blankpaper, and then sewn it up again. So, if anyone did manage to robme of it, it wouldn't matter."What to do with the real thing worried me no end. Finally Iopened it out flat--there were only two sheets--and laid itbetween two of the advertisement pages of a magazine. I stuck thetwo pages together round the edge with some gum off an envelope.I carried the magazine carelessly stuffed into the pocket of myulster."At Holyhead I tried to get into a carriage with people thatlooked all right, but in a queer way there seemed always to be acrowd round me shoving and pushing me just the way I didn't wantto go. There was something uncanny and frightening about it. Inthe end I found myself in a carriage with Mrs. Vandemeyer afterall. I went out into the corridor, but all the other carriageswere full, so I had to go back and sit down. I consoled myselfwith the thought that there were other people in thecarriage--there was quite a nice-looking man and his wife sittingjust opposite. So I felt almost happy about it until just outsideLondon. I had leaned back and closed my eyes. I guess theythought I was asleep, but my eyes weren't quite shut, andsuddenly I saw the nice-looking man get something out of his bagand hand it to Mrs. Vandemeyer, and as he did so he winked...."I can't tell you how that wink sort of froze me through andthrough. My only thought was to get out in the corridor as quickas ever I could. I got up, trying to look natural and easy.Perhaps they saw something--I don't know--but suddenly Mrs.Vandemeyer said 'Now,' and flung something over my nose and mouthas I tried to scream. At the same moment I felt a terrific blowon the back of my head...."She shuddered. Sir James murmured something sympathetically. Ina minute she resumed:"I don't know how long it was before I came back toconsciousness. I felt very ill and sick. I was lying on a dirtybed. There was a screen round it, but I could hear two peopletalking in the room. Mrs. Vandemeyer was one of them. I tried tolisten, but at first I couldn't take much in. When at last I didbegin to grasp what was going on--I was just terrified! I wonderI didn't scream right out there and then."They hadn't found the papers. They'd got the oilskin packetwith the blanks, and they were just mad! They didn't knowwhether I'd changed the papers, or whether Danvers had beencarrying a dummy message, while the real one was sent anotherway. They spoke of"--she closed her eyes--"torturing me to findout!"I'd never known what fear--really sickening fear--was before!Once they came to look at me. I shut my eyes and pretended to bestill unconscious, but I was afraid they'd hear the beating of myheart. However, they went away again. I began thinking madly.What could I do? I knew I wouldn't be able to stand up againsttorture very long."Suddenly something put the thought of loss of memory into myhead. The subject had always interested me, and I'd read an awfullot about it. I had the whole thing at my finger-tips. If only Icould succeed in carrying the bluff through, it might save me. Isaid a prayer, and drew a long breath. Then I opened my eyes andstarted babbling in French!"Mrs. Vandemeyer came round the screen at once. Her face was sowicked I nearly died, but I smiled up at her doubtfully, andasked her in French where I was."It puzzled her, I could see. She called the man she had beentalking to. He stood by the screen with his face in shadow. Hespoke to me in French. His voice was very ordinary and quiet,but somehow, I don't know why, he scared me worse than the woman.I felt he'd seen right through me, but I went on playing my part.I asked again where I was, and then went on that there wassomething I must remember--must remember--only for the moment itwas all gone. I worked myself up to be more and more distressed.He asked me my name. I said I didn't know--that I couldn'tremember anything at all."Suddenly he caught my wrist, and began twisting it. The painwas awful. I screamed. He went on. I screamed and screamed, butI managed to shriek out things in French. I don't know how longI could have gone on, but luckily I fainted. The last thing Iheard was his voice saying: 'That's not bluff! Anyway, a kid ofher age wouldn't know enough.' I guess he forgot American girlsare older for their age than English ones, and take more interestin scientific subjects."When I came to, Mrs. Vandemeyer was sweet as honey to me. She'dhad her orders, I guess. She spoke to me in French--told me I'dhad a shock and been very ill. I should be better soon. Ipretended to be rather dazed--murmured something about the'doctor' having hurt my wrist. She looked relieved when I saidthat."By and by she went out of the room altogether. I was suspiciousstill, and lay quite quiet for some time. In the end, however, Igot up and walked round the room, examining it. I thought thateven if anyone was watching me from somewhere, it would seemnatural enough under the circumstances. It was a squalid, dirtyplace. There were no windows, which seemed queer. I guessed thedoor would be locked, but I didn't try it. There were somebattered old pictures on the walls, representing scenes fromFaust."Jane's two listeners gave a simultaneous "Ah!" The girl nodded."Yes--it was the place in Soho where Mr. Beresford wasimprisoned. Of course, at the time I didn't even know if I was inLondon. One thing was worrying me dreadfully, but my heart gavea great throb of relief when I saw my ulster lying carelesslyover the back of a chair. And the magazine was still rolled up inthe pocket!"If only I could be certain that I was not being overlooked! Ilooked carefully round the walls. There didn't seem to be apeep-hole of any kind--nevertheless I felt kind of sure theremust be. All of a sudden I sat down on the edge of the table, andput my face in my hands, sobbing out a 'Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!'I've got very sharp ears. I distinctly heard the rustle of adress, and slight creak. That was enough for me. I was beingwatched!"I lay down on the bed again, and by and by Mrs. Vandemeyerbrought me some supper. She was still sweet as they make them. Iguess she'd been told to win my confidence. Presently sheproduced the oilskin packet, and asked me if I recognized it,watching me like a lynx all the time."I took it and turned it over in a puzzled sort of way. Then Ishook my head. I said that I felt I ought to remember somethingabout it, that it was just as though it was all coming back, andthen, before I could get hold of it, it went again. Then she toldme that I was her niece, and that I was to call her 'Aunt Rita.'I did obediently, and she told me not to worry--my memory wouldsoon come back."That was an awful night. I'd made my plan whilst I was waitingfor her. The papers were safe so far, but I couldn't take therisk of leaving them there any longer. They might throw thatmagazine away any minute. I lay awake waiting until I judged itmust be about two o'clock in the morning. Then I got up assoftly as I could, and felt in the dark along the left-hand wall.Very gently, I unhooked one of the pictures from itsnail--Marguerite with her casket of jewels. I crept over to mycoat and took out the magazine, and an odd envelope or two that Ihad shoved in. Then I went to the washstand, and damped thebrown paper at the back of the picture all round. Presently I wasable to pull it away. I had already torn out the twostuck-together pages from the magazine, and now I slipped themwith their precious enclosure between the picture and its brownpaper backing. A little gum from the envelopes helped me to stickthe latter up again. No one would dream the picture had ever beentampered with. I rehung it on the wall, put the magazine back inmy coat pocket, and crept back to bed. I was pleased with myhiding-place. They'd never think of pulling to pieces one oftheir own pictures. I hoped that they'd come to the conclusionthat Danvers had been carrying a dummy all along, and that, inthe end, they'd let me go."As a matter of fact, I guess that's what they did think atfirst, and, in a way, it was dangerous for me. I learntafterwards that they nearly did away with me then andthere--there was never much chance of their 'letting me go'--butthe first man, who was the boss, preferred to keep me alive onthe chance of my having hidden them, and being able to tell whereif I recovered my memory. They watched me constantly for weeks.Sometimes they'd ask me questions by the hour--I guess there wasnothing they didn't know about the third degree!--but somehow Imanaged to hold my own. The strain of it was awful, though . . ."They took me back to Ireland, and over every step of the Journeyagain, in case I'd hidden it somewhere en route. Mrs. Vandemeyerand another woman never left me for a moment. They spoke of me asa young relative of Mrs. Vandemeyer's whose mind was affected bythe shock of the Lusitania. There was no one I could appeal tofor help without giving myself away to them, and if I risked itand failed--and Mrs. Vandemeyer looked so rich, and sobeautifully dressed, that I felt convinced they'd take her wordagainst mine, and think it was part of my mental trouble to thinkmyself 'persecuted'--I felt that the horrors in store for mewould be too awful once they knew I'd been only shamming."Sir James nodded comprehendingly."Mrs. Vandemeyer was a woman of great personality. With that andher social position she would have had little difficulty inimposing her point of view in preference to yours. Yoursensational accusations against her would not easily have foundcredence.""That's what I thought. It ended in my being sent to asanatorium at Bournemouth. I couldn't make up my mind at firstwhether it was a sham affair or genuine. A hospital nurse hadcharge of me. I was a special patient. She seemed so nice andnormal that at last I determined to confide in her. A mercifulprovidence just saved me in time from falling into the trap. Mydoor happened to be ajar, and I heard her talking to some one inthe passage. She was one of them! They still fancied it might bea bluff on my part, and she was put in charge of me to make sure!After that, my nerve went completely. I dared trust nobody."I think I almost hypnotized myself. After a while, I almostforgot that I was really Jane Finn. I was so bent on playing thepart of Janet Vandemeyer that my nerves began to play me tricks.I became really ill--for months I sank into a sort of stupor. Ifelt sure I should die soon, and that nothing really mattered. Asane person shut up in a lunatic asylum often ends by becominginsane, they say. I guess I was like that. Playing my part hadbecome second nature to me. I wasn't even unhappy in theend--just apathetic. Nothing seemed to matter. And the yearswent on."And then suddenly things seemed to change. Mrs. Vandemeyer camedown from London. She and the doctor asked me questions,experimented with various treatments. There was some talk ofsending me to a specialist in Paris. In the end, they did notdare risk it. I overheard something that seemed to show thatother people--friends--were looking for me. I learnt later thatthe nurse who had looked after me went to Paris, and consulted aspecialist, representing herself to be me. He put her throughsome searching tests, and exposed her loss of memory to befraudulent; but she had taken a note of his methods andreproduced them on me. I dare say I couldn't have deceived thespecialist for a minute--a man who has made a lifelong study of athing is unique--but I managed once again to hold my own withthem. The fact that I'd not thought of myself as Jane Finn for solong made it easier."One night I was whisked off to London at a moment's notice. Theytook me back to the house in Soho. Once I got away from thesanatorium I felt different--as though something in me that hadbeen buried for a long time was waking up again."They sent me in to wait on Mr. Beresford. (Of course I didn'tknow his name then.) I was suspicious--I thought it was anothertrap. But he looked so honest, I could hardly believe it.However, I was careful in all I said, for I knew we could beoverheard. There's a small hole, high up in the wall."But on the Sunday afternoon a message was brought to the house.They were all very disturbed. Without their knowing, I listened.Word had come that he was to be killed. I needn't tell the nextpart, because you know it. I thought I'd have time to rush upand get the papers from their hiding-place, but I was caught. SoI screamed out that he was escaping, and I said I wanted to goback to Marguerite. I shouted the name three times very loud. Iknew the others would think I meant Mrs. Vandemeyer, but I hopedit might make Mr. Beresford think of the picture. He'd unhookedone the first day--that's what made me hesitate to trust him."She paused."Then the papers," said Sir James slowly, "are still at the backof the picture in that room.""Yes." The girl had sunk back on the sofa exhausted with thestrain of the long story.Sir James rose to his feet. He looked at his watch."Come," he said, "we must go at once.""To-night?" queried Tuppence, surprised."To-morrow may be too late," said Sir James gravely. "Besides, bygoing to-night we have the chance of capturing that great man andsuper-criminal--Mr. Brown!"There was dead silence, and Sir James continued:"You have been followed here--not a doubt of it. When we leavethe house we shall be followed again, but not molested, for it isMr. Brown's plan that we are to lead him. But the Soho house isunder police supervision night and day. There are several menwatching it. When we enter that house, Mr. Brown will not drawback--he will risk all, on the chance of obtaining the spark tofire his mine. And he fancies the risk not great--since he willenter in the guise of a friend!"Tuppence flushed, then opened her mouth impulsively."But there's something you don't know--that we haven't told you."Her eyes dwelt on Jane in perplexity."What is that?" asked the other sharply. "No hesitations, MissTuppence. We need to be sure of our going."But Tuppence, for once, seemed tongue-tied."It's so difficult--you see, if I'm wrong--oh, it would bedreadful." She made a grimace at the unconscious Jane. "Neverforgive me," she observed cryptically."You want me to help you out, eh?""Yes, please. You know who Mr. Brown is, don't you?""Yes," said Sir James gravely. "At last I do.""At last?" queried Tuppence doubtfully. "Oh, but I thought----"She paused."You thought correctly, Miss Tuppence. I have been morallycertain of his identity for some time--ever since the night ofMrs. Vandemeyer's mysterious death.""Ah!" breathed Tuppence."For there we are up against the logic of facts. There are onlytwo solutions. Either the chloral was administered by her ownhand, which theory I reject utterly, or else----""Yes?""Or else it was administered in the brandy you gave her. Onlythree people touched that brandy--you, Miss Tuppence, I myself,and one other--Mr. Julius Hersheimmer!"Jane Finn stirred and sat up, regarding the speaker with wideastonished eyes."At first, the thing seemed utterly impossible. Mr. Hersheimmer,as the son of a prominent millionaire, was a well-known figure inAmerica. It seemed utterly impossible that he and Mr. Browncould be one and the same. But you cannot escape from the logicof facts. Since the thing was so--it must be accepted. RememberMrs. Vandemeyer's sudden and inexplicable agitation. Anotherproof, if proof was needed."I took an early opportunity of giving you a hint. From somewords of Mr. Hersheimmer's at Manchester, I gathered that you hadunderstood and acted on that hint. Then I set to work to provethe impossible possible. Mr. Beresford rang me up and told me,what I had already suspected, that the photograph of Miss JaneFinn had never really been out of Mr. Hersheimmer'spossession----"But the girl interrupted. Springing to her feet, she cried outangrily:"What do you mean? What are you trying to suggest? That Mr.Brown is Julius? Julius--my own cousin!""No, Miss Finn," said Sir James unexpectedly. "Not your cousin.The man who calls himself Julius Hersheimmer is no relation toyou whatsoever."