Detectives and Young Adventurers: The Complete Short Stories. Agatha Christie

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 enveloped in a coil of rope.

      An agonised 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 practising 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 ardour 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 civilised 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 dagoes 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 –’