CHAPTER XXVI. MR. BROWN
SIR James’s words came like a bomb-shell. Both girls looked equallypuzzled. The lawyer went across to his desk, and returned with a smallnewspaper cutting, which he handed to Jane. Tuppence read it overher shoulder. Mr. Carter would have recognized it. It referred to themysterious man found dead in New York.
“As I was saying to Miss Tuppence,” resumed the lawyer, “I set to workto prove the impossible possible. The great stumbling-block was theundeniable fact that Julius Hersheimmer was not an assumed name. When Icame across this paragraph my problem was solved. Julius Hersheimmer setout to discover what had become of his cousin. He went out West, wherehe obtained news of her and her photograph to aid him in his search. Onthe eve of his departure from New York he was set upon and murdered. Hisbody was dressed in shabby clothes, and the face disfigured to preventidentification. Mr. Brown took his place. He sailed immediately forEngland. None of the real Hersheimmer’s friends or intimates saw himbefore he sailed--though indeed it would hardly have mattered if theyhad, the impersonation was so perfect. Since then he had been hand andglove with those sworn to hunt him down. Every secret of theirs has beenknown to him. Only once did he come near disaster. Mrs. Vandemeyer knewhis secret. It was no part of his plan that that huge bribe should everbe offered to her. But for Miss Tuppence’s fortunate change of plan, shewould have been far away from the flat when we arrived there. Exposurestared him in the face. He took a desperate step, trusting in hisassumed character to avert suspicion. He nearly succeeded--but notquite.”
“I can’t believe it,” murmured Jane. “He seemed so splendid.”
“The real Julius Hersheimmer _was_ a splendid fellow! And Mr. Brown isa consummate actor. But ask Miss Tuppence if she also has not had hersuspicions.”
Jane turned mutely to Tuppence. The latter nodded.
“I didn’t want to say it, Jane--I knew it would hurt you. And, afterall, I couldn’t be sure. I still don’t understand why, if he’s Mr.Brown, he rescued us.”
“Was it Julius Hersheimmer who helped you to escape?”
Tuppence recounted to Sir James the exciting events of the evening,ending up: “But I can’t see _why!_”
“Can’t you? I can. So can young Beresford, by his actions. As a lasthope Jane Finn was to be allowed to escape--and the escape must bemanaged so that she harbours no suspicions of its being a put-up job.They’re not averse to young Beresford’s being in the neighbourhood, and,if necessary, communicating with you. They’ll take care to get him outof the way at the right minute. Then Julius Hersheimmer dashes up andrescues you in true melodramatic style. Bullets fly--but don’t hitanybody. What would have happened next? You would have driven straightto the house in Soho and secured the document which Miss Finn wouldprobably have entrusted to her cousin’s keeping. Or, if he conducted thesearch, he would have pretended to find the hiding-place already rifled.He would have had a dozen ways of dealing with the situation, but theresult would have been the same. And I rather fancy some accident wouldhave happened to both of you. You see, you know rather an inconvenientamount. That’s a rough outline. I admit I was caught napping; butsomebody else wasn’t.”
“Tommy,” said Tuppence softly.
“Yes. Evidently when the right moment came to get rid of him--he was toosharp for them. All the same, I’m not too easy in my mind about him.”
“Why?”
“Because Julius Hersheimmer is Mr. Brown,” said Sir James dryly. “And ittakes 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 has stillgot the upper hand, there’s nothing to fear. If otherwise, our enemywill come to find us, and he will not find us unprepared!” From a drawerin the desk, he took a service revolver, and placed it in his coatpocket.
“Now we’re ready. I know better than even to suggest going without 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 with all shehas been through.”
But to Tuppence’s surprise Jane shook her head.
“No. I guess I’m going too. Those papers were my trust. I must gothrough with this business to the end. I’m heaps better now anyway.”
Sir James’s car was ordered round. During the short drive Tuppence’sheart beat tumultuously. In spite of momentary qualms of uneasinessrespecting Tommy, she could not but feel exultation. They were going towin!
The car drew up at the corner of the square and they got out. Sir Jameswent up to a plain-clothes man who was on duty with several others, andspoke to him. Then he rejoined the girls.
“No one has gone into the house so far. It is being watched at the backas well, so they are quite sure of that. Anyone who attempts to enterafter we have done so will be arrested immediately. Shall we go in?”
A policeman produced a key. They all knew Sir James well. They had alsohad orders respecting Tuppence. Only the third member of the party wasunknown to them. The three entered the house, pulling the door to behindthem. Slowly they mounted the rickety stairs. At the top was the raggedcurtain hiding the recess where Tommy had hidden that day. Tuppence hadheard the story from Jane in her character of “Annette.” She looked atthe tattered velvet with interest. Even now she could almost swear itmoved--as though _some one_ was behind it. So strong was the illusionthat she almost fancied she could make out the outline of a form....Supposing Mr. Brown--Julius--was there waiting....
Impossible of course! Yet she almost went back to put the curtain asideand make sure....
Now they were entering the prison room. No place for anyone to hidehere, thought Tuppence, with a sigh of relief, then chided herselfindignantly. She must not give way to this foolish fancying--thiscurious insistent feeling that _Mr. Brown was in the house_.... Hark!what was that? A stealthy footstep on the stairs? There _was_ some onein the house! Absurd! She was becoming hysterical.
Jane had gone straight to the picture of Marguerite. She unhooked itwith a steady hand. The dust lay thick upon it, and festoons of cobwebslay between it and the wall. Sir James handed her a pocket-knife, andshe ripped away the brown paper from the back.... The advertisementpage of a magazine fell out. Jane picked it up. Holding apart the frayedinner edges she extracted 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 the faintcreakings, the imagined noises of a minute ago. None of them had eyesfor 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 almost wonderingunbelief in her voice.
Sir James echoed her words as he folded the paper carefully and put itaway in his pocket-book, then he looked curiously round the dingy room.
“It was here that our young friend was confined for so long, wasit not?” he said. “A truly sinister room. You notice the absence ofwindows, and the thickness of the close-fitting door. Whatever tookplace here would never be heard by the outside world.”
Tuppence shivered. His words woke a vague alarm in her. What if there_was_ some one concealed in the house? Some one who might bar that dooron them, and leave them to die like rats in a trap? Then she realizedthe absurdity of her thought. The house was surrounded by police who,if they failed to reappear, would not hesitate to break in and make athorough search. She smiled at her own foolishness--then looked up witha start to find Sir James watching her. He gave her an emphatic littlenod.
“Quite right, Miss Tuppence. You scent danger. So do I. So does MissFinn.”
“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. Bown_. Yes”--asTuppence made a movement--“not a doubt of it-- _Mr. Brown is here_....”
“In this house?”
“In this room.... You don’t understand? _I am Mr. Brown_....”
Stupefied, unbelieving, they stared at him. The very lines of his facehad changed. It was a different man who stood before them. He smiled aslow cruel smile.
“Neither of you will leave this room alive! You said just now we hadsucceeded. _I_ have succeeded! The draft treaty is mine.” His smile grewwider as he looked at Tuppence. “Shall I tell you how it will be? Sooneror later the police will break in, and they will find three victims ofMr. Brown--three, not two, you understand, but fortunately the thirdwill not be dead, only wounded, and will be able to describe the attackwith a wealth of detail! The treaty? It is in the hands of Mr. Brown. Sono one will think of searching the pockets of Sir James Peel Edgerton!”
He turned to Jane.
“You outwitted me. I make my acknowledgments. But you will not do itagain.”
There was a faint sound behind him, but, intoxicated with success, hedid not turn his head.
He slipped his hand into his pocket.
“Checkmate to the Young Adventurers,” he said, and slowly raised the bigautomatic.
But, even as he did so, he felt himself seized from behind in a grip ofiron. The revolver was wrenched from his hand, and the voice of JuliusHersheimmer 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 two captors. Helooked 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 bore the bigsignet ring, was raised to his lips....
“‘_Ave, Cæsar! te morituri salutant_,’” he said, still looking atTommy.
Then his face changed, and with a long convulsive shudder he fellforward in a crumpled heap, whilst an odour of bitter almonds filled theair.
The Secret Adversary Page 27
