Short Stories

by Agatha Christie

  "Boots suggest footprints," said Tommy thoughtfully. "Do you think they wanted to lay a trail of Wilmott's footsteps somewhere?"

  Tuppence considered the suggestion, abandoning her role, then shook her head.

  "It seems wildly impossible," she said. "No, I believe we shall have to resign ourselves to the fact that the boots have nothing to do with it."

  "Well," said Tommy with a sigh. "The next step is to interview friend Richards. He may be able to throw some light on the mystery."

  On production of the Ambassador's card, Tommy was admitted to the Embassy, and presently a pale young man, with a respectful manner, and a subdued voice, presented himself to undergo examination.

  "I am Richards, sir, Mr. Wilmott's valet. I understood you wished to see me?"

  "Yes, Richards. Mr. Wilmott called on me this morning, and suggested that I should come round and ask you a few questions. It is this matter of the kitbag."

  "Mr. Wilmott was rather upset over the affair, I know, sir. I can hardly see why, since no harm was done. I certainly understood from the man who called for the other bag that it belonged to Senator Westerham, but of course I may have been mistaken."

  "What kind of a man was he?"

  "Middle-aged. Grey-hair. Very good class, I should say-most respectable. I understood he was Senator Westerham's valet. He left Mr. Wilmott's bag and took away the other."

  "Had it been unpacked at all?"

  "Which one, sir?"

  "Well I meant the one you brought from the boat. But I should like to know about the other as well-Mr. Wilmott's own. Had that been unpacked, do you fancy?"

  "I should say not, sir. It was just as I strapped it up on the boat. I should say the gentleman-whoever he was-just opened it-realized it wasn't his, and shut it up again."

  "Nothing missing? No small article?"

  "I don't think so, sir. In fact, I'm quite sure."

  "And now the other one. Had you started to unpack that?" "As a matter of fact, sir, I was just opening it at the very moment Senator Westerham's man arrived. I'd just undone the straps."

  "Did you open it at all?"

  "We just unfastened it together, sir, to be sure no mistake had been made this time. The man said it was all right, and he strapped it up again and took it away."

  "What was inside? Boots also?"

  "No, sir, mostly toilet things, I fancy. I know I saw a tin of bath salts."

  Tommy abandoned that line of research.

  "You never saw anyone tampering with anything in your master's cabin on board ship, I suppose?"

  "Oh, no, sir."

  "Never anything suspicious of any kind?"

  "And what do I mean by that, I wonder," he thought to himself with a trace of amusement. "Anything suspicious-just words!"

  But the man in front of him hesitated.

  "Now that I remember it-"

  "Yes," said Tommy eagerly. "What?"

  "I don't think it could have anything to do with it. But there was a young lady."

  "Yes? A young lady, you say, what was she doing?"

  "She was taken faint, sir. A very pleasant young lady. Miss Eileen O'Hara, her name was. A dainty looking lady, not tall, with black hair.

  Just a little foreign looking."

  "Yes?" said Tommy, with even greater eagerness.

  "As I was saying, she was taken queer. Just outside Mr. Wilmott's cabin. She asked me to fetch the doctor. I helped her to the sofa, and then went off for the doctor. I was some time finding him, and when I found him and brought him back, the young lady was nearly all right again."

  "Oh!" said Tommy.

  "You don't think, sir-"

  "It's difficult to know what to think," said Tommy noncommittally. "Was this Miss O'Hara travelling alone?"

  "Yes, I think so, sir."

  "You haven't seen her since you landed?"

  "No, sir."

  "Well," said Tommy, after a minute or two spent in reflection. `'I think that's all. Thank you, Richards."

  "Thank you, sir."

  Back at the office of the Detective Agency, Tommy retailed his conversation with Richards to Tuppence who listened attentively.

  "What do you think of it, Tuppence?"

  "Oh! my dear fellow, we doctors are always sceptical of a sudden faintness! So very convenient. And Eileen as well as O'Hara. Almost too impossibly Irish, don't you think?"

  "It's something to go upon at last. Do you know what I am going to do, Tuppence? Advertise for the lady."

  "What?"

  "Yes. Any information respecting Miss Eileen O'Hara, known to have travelled such and such a ship and such and such a date. Either she'll answer it herself if she's genuine, or someone may come forward to give us information about her. So far, it's the only hope of a clue."

  "You'll also put her on her guard, remember."

  "Well," said Tommy. "One's got to risk something."

  "I still can't see any sense in the thing," said Tuppence, frowning. "If a gang of crooks get hold of the Ambassador's bag for an hour or two, and then send it back, what possible good can it do them? Unless there are papers in it they want to copy, and Mr. Wilmott swears there was nothing of the kind. "

  Tommy stared at her thoughtfully.

  "You put these things rather well, Tuppence," he said at last. "You've given me an idea."

  It was two days later. Tuppence was out to lunch. Tommy, alone in the austere office of Mr. Theodore Blunt, was improving his mind by reading the latest sensational thriller.

  The door of the office opened and Albert appeared.

  "A young lady to see you, sir. Miss Cicely March. She says she has called in answer to an advertisment."

  "Show her in at once," cried Tommy, thrusting his novel into a convenient drawer.

  In another minute Albert had ushered in the young lady.

  Tommy had just time to see that she was fair haired and extremely pretty when the amazing occurrence happened.

  The door through which Albert had just passed out was rudely burst open. In the doorway stood a picturesque figure-a big dark man, Spanish in appearance, with a flaming red tie. His features were distorted with rage, and in his hand was a gleaming pistol.

  "So this is the office of Mr. Busybody Blunt," he said in perfect English.

  His voice was low and venomous. "Hands up at once-or I shoot."

  It sounded no idle threat. Tommy's hands went up obediently. The girl, crouched against the wall, gave a gasp of terror.

  "This young lady will come with me," said the man. "Yes, you will, my dear. You have never seen me before, but that doesn't matter. I can't have my plans ruined by a silly little chit like you. I seem to remember that you were one of the passengers on the Nomadic. You must have been peering into things that didn't concern you-but I've no intention of letting you blab any secrets to Mr. Blunt here. A very clever gentleman, Mr. Blunt, with his fancy advertisements. But as it happens. I keep an eye on the advertisement columns. That's how I got wise to his little game."

  "You interest me exceedingly," said Tommy. "Won't you go on?"

  "Cheek won't help you, Mr. Blunt. From now on, you're a marked man.

  Give up this investigation, and we'll leave you alone. Otherwise-God help you! Death comes swiftly to those who thwart our plans."

  Tommy did not reply. He was staring over the intruder's shoulder as though he saw a ghost.

  As a matter of fact he was seeing something that caused him far more apprehension than any ghost could have done. Up to now, he had not given a thought to Albert as a factor in the game. He had taken for granted that Albert had already been dealt with by the mysterious stranger. If he had thought of him at all, it was as one lying stunned on the carpet in the outer office.

  He now saw that Albert had miraculously escaped the stranger's attention. But instead of rushing out to fetch a policeman in good sound British fashion, Albert had elected to play a lone hand. The door behind the stranger had opened noiselessly, and Albert stood in the aperture envel
oped in a coil of rope.

  An agonized yelp of protest burst from Tommy, but too late. Fired with enthusiasm, Albert flung a loop of rope over the intruder's head, and jerked him backwards off his feet.

  The inevitable happened. The pistol went off with a roar and Tommy felt the bullet scorch his ear in passing, ere it buried itself in the plaster behind him.

  "I've got him, sir," cried Albert, flushed with triumph. "I've lassoed him.

  I've been practicing with a lasso in my spare time, sir. Can you give me a hand? He's very violent."

  Tommy hastened to his faithful henchman's assistance, mentally determining that Albert should have no further spare time.

  "You damned idiot," he said. "Why didn't you go for a policeman?

  Owing to this fool's play of yours, he as near as anything plugged me through the head. Whew! I've never had such a near escape."

  "Lassoed him in the nick of time, I did," said Albert, his ardor quite undamped. "It's wonderful what those chaps can do on the prairies, sir."

  "Quite so," said Tommy, "but we're not on the prairies. We happen to be in a highly civilized city. And now, my dear sir," he added to his prostrate foe. "What are we going to do with you?"

  A stream of oaths in a foreign language was his only reply.

  "Hush," said Tommy. "I don't understand a word of what you're saying, but I've got a shrewd idea it's not the kind of language to use before a lady. You'll excuse him, won't you, Miss-do you know, in the excitement of this little upset, I've quite forgotten your name?"

  "March," said the girl. She was still white and shaken. But she came forward now and stood by Tommy looking down on the recumbent figure of the discomfited stranger. "What are you going to do with him?"

  "I could fetch a bobby now," said Albert helpfully.

  But Tommy, looking up, caught a very faint negative movement of the girl's head, and took his cue accordingly.

  "We'll let him off this time," he remarked. "Nevertheless I shall give myself the pleasure of kicking him downstairs- if it's only to teach him manners to a lady."

  He removed the rope, hauled the victim to his feet, and propelled him briskly through the outer office.

  A series of shrill yelps was heard and then a thud. Tommy came back, flushed but smiling.

  The girl was staring at him with round eyes.

  "Did you-hurt him?"

  "I hope so," said Tommy. "But these foreigners make a practice of crying out before they're hurt-so I can't be quite sure about it. Shall we come back into my office, Miss March, and resume our interrupted conversation? I don't think we shall be interrupted again."

  "I'll have my lasso ready, sir, in case," said the helpful Albert.

  "Put it away," ordered Tommy sternly.

  He followed the girl into the inner office, and sat down at his desk whilst she took a chair facing him.

  "I don't quite know where to begin," said the girl. "As you heard that man say, I was a passenger on the Nomadic. The lady you advertised about, Miss O'Hara, was also on board."

  "Exactly," said Tommy. "That we know already, but I suspect you must know something about her doings on board that boat or else that picturesque gentleman would not have been in such a hurry to intervene."

  "I will tell you everything. The American Ambassador was on board.

  One day, as I was passing his cabin, I saw this woman inside, and she was doing something so extraordinary that I stopped to watch. She had a man's boot in her hand-"

  "A boot?" cried Tommy excitedly. "I'm sorry, Miss March, go on."

  "With a little pair of scissors, she was slitting up the lining. Then she seemed to push something inside. Just at that minute the doctor and another man came down the passage, and immediately she dropped back on the couch and groaned. I waited, and I gathered from what was being said that she had pretended to feel faint. I say pretendedbecause when I first caught sight of her, she was obviously feeling nothing of the kind."

  Tommy nodded.

  "Well?"

  "I rather hate to tell you the next part. I was-curious. And also I'd been reading silly books, and I wondered if she'd put a bomb or a poisoned needle or something like that in Mr. Wilmott's boot. I know it's absurdbut I did think so. Anyway, next time I passed the empty cabin, I slipped in, and examined the boot. I drew out from the lining a slip of paper. Just as I had it in my hand, I heard the steward coming, and I hurried out so as not to be caught. The folded paper was still in my hand. When I got into my own cabin, I examined it. Mr. Blunt, it was nothing but some verses from the Bible."

  "Verses from the Bible?" said Tommy, very much intrigued.

  "At least I thought so at the time. I couldn't understand it, but I thought perhaps it was the work of a religious maniac. Anyway, I didn't feel it was worth while replacing it. I kept it without thinking much about it until yesterday when I used it to make into a boat for my little nephew to sail in his bath. As the paper got wet, I saw a queer kind of design coming out all over it. I hastily took it out of the bath, and smoothed it out flat. The water had brought out the hidden message. It was a kind of tracing-and looked like the mouth of a harbor. Immediately after that I read your advertisement."

  Tommy sprang from his chair.

  "But this is most important. I see it all now. That tracing is probably the plan of some important harbor defences. It had been stolen by this woman. She feared someone was on her track, and not daring to conceal it amongst her own belongings, she contrived this hidingplace. Later, she obtained possession of the bag in which the boot was packed-only to discover that the paper had vanished. Tell me, Miss March, you have brought this paper with you?"

  The girl shook her head.

  "It's at my place of business. I run a beauty parlor in Bond Street. I am really an agent for the 'Cyclamen' preparations in New York. That is why I had been over there. I thought the paper might be important, so I locked it up in the safe before coming out. Ought not Scotland Yard to know about it?"

  "Yes, indeed."

  "Then shall we go there now, get it out, and take it straight to Scotland Yard?"

  "I am very busy this afternoon," said Tommy adopting his professional manner and consulting his watch. "The Bishop of London wants me to take up a case for him. A very curious problem, concerning some vestments and two curates."

  "Then in that case," said Miss March, rising, "I will go alone."

  Tommy raised a hand in protest.

  "As I was about to say," he said, "the Bishop must wait. I will leave a few words with Albert. I am convinced, Miss March, that until that paper has been safely deposited with Scotland Yard you are in active danger."

  "Do you think so?" said the girl doubtfully.

  "I don't think, I'm sure. Excuse me." He scribbled some words on the pad in front of him, then tore off the leaf and folded it.

  Taking his hat and stick, he intimated to the girl that he was ready to accompany her. In the outer office, he handed the folded paper to Albert with an air of importance.

  "I am called out on an urgent case. Explain that to his lordship if he comes. Here are my notes on the case for Miss Robinson."

  "Very good, sir," said Albert playing up. "And what about the Duchess's pearls?"

  Tommy waved his hand irritably.

  "That must wait also."

  He and Miss March hurried out. Half way down the stairs they encountered Tuppence coming up. Tommy passed her with a brusque:

  "Late again, Miss Robinson. I am called out on an important case."

  Tuppence stood still on the stairs and stared after them. Then, with raised eyebrows, she went on up to the office.

  As they reached the street, a taxi came sailing up to them. Tommy, on the point of hailing it, changed his mind.

  "Are you a good walker, Miss March?" he asked seriously.

  "Yes, why? Hadn't we better take that taxi? It will be quicker."

  "Perhaps you did not notice. That taxi driver has just refused a fare a little lower down the street. He was wai
ting for us. Your enemies are on the look out. If you feel equal to it, it would be better for us to walk to Bond Street. In the crowded streets, they will not be able to attempt much against us."

  "Very well," said the girl, rather doubtfully.

  They walked westwards. The streets, as Tommy had said, were crowded, and progress was slow. Tommy kept a sharp look out.

  Occasionally he drew the girl to one side with a quick gesture, though she herself had seen nothing suspicious.

  Suddenly glancing at her, he was seized with compunction.

  "I say, you look awfully done up. The shock of that man. Come into this place and have a good cup of strong coffee. I suppose you wouldn't hear of a nip of brandy."

  The girl shook her head, with a faint smile.

  "Coffee be it then," said Tommy. "I think we can safely risk its being poisoned."

  They lingered some time over their coffee, and finally set off at a brisker pace.

  "We've thrown them off, I think," said Tommy, looking over his shoulder.

  Cyclamen Ltd. was a small establishment in Bond Street, with pale pink taffeta curtains, and one or two jars of face cream and a cake of soap decorating the window.

  Cicely March entered, and Tommy followed. The place inside was tiny.

  On the left was a glass counter with toilet preparations. Behind this counter was a middle-aged woman with grey hair and an exquisite complexion who acknowledged Cicely March's entrance with a faint inclination of the head before continuing to talk to the customer she was serving.

  This customer was a small dark woman. Her back was to them and they could not see her face. She was speaking in slow difficult English.

  On the right was a sofa and a couple of chairs with some magazines on a table. Here sat two men-apparently bored husbands waiting for their wives.

  Cicely March passed straight on through a door at the end which she held ajar for Tommy to follow her. As he did so, the woman customer exclaimed. "Ah! but I think that is an amico of mine," and rushed after them, inserting her foot in the door just in time to prevent its closing.

  At the same time, the two men rose to their feet. One followed her through the door, the other advanced to the shop attendant and clapped his hand over her mouth to drown the scream rising to her lips.