The Best Murder Mysteries in One Edition. Эдгар Аллан По

guess that’s good as far as it goes. But it’s for us to get busy and do something.”

      “What can we do?” asked Tuppence, her spirits rising.

      “I guess we’d better get on the track of Boris. You say he’s been to your place. Is he likely to come again?”

      “He might. I really don’t know.”

      “I see. Well, I guess I’d better buy a car, a slap-up one, dress as a chauffeur and hang about outside. Then if Boris comes, you could make some kind of signal, and I’d trail him. How’s that?”

      “Splendid, but he mightn’t come for weeks.”

      “We’ll have to chance that. I’m glad you like the plan.” He rose.

      “Where are you going?”

      “To buy the car, of course,” replied Julius, surprised. “What make do you like? I guess you’ll do some riding in it before we’ve finished.”

      “Oh,” said Tuppence faintly, “I LIKE Rolls-Royces, but——”

      “Sure,” agreed Julius. “What you say goes. I’ll get one.”

      “But you can’t at once,” cried Tuppence. “People wait ages sometimes.”

      “Little Julius doesn’t,” affirmed Mr. Hersheimmer. “Don’t you worry any. I’ll be round in the car in half an hour.”

      Tuppence got up.

      “You’re awfully good, Julius. But I can’t help feeling that it’s rather a forlorn hope. I’m really pinning my faith to Mr. Carter.”

      “Then I shouldn’t.”

      “Why?”

      “Just an idea of mine.”

      “Oh; but he must do something. There’s no one else. By the way, I forgot to tell you of a queer thing that happened this morning.”

      And she narrated her encounter with Sir James Peel Edgerton. Julius was interested.

      “What did the guy mean, do you think?” he asked.

      “I don’t quite know,” said Tuppence meditatively. “But I think that, in an ambiguous, legal, without prejudishish lawyer’s way, he was trying to warn me.”

      “Why should he?”

      “I don’t know,” confessed Tuppence. “But he looked kind, and simply awfully clever. I wouldn’t mind going to him and telling him everything.”

      Somewhat to her surprise, Julius negatived the idea sharply.

      “See here,” he said, “we don’t want any lawyers mixed up in this. That guy couldn’t help us any.”

      “Well, I believe he could,” reiterated Tuppence obstinately.

      “Don’t you think it. So long. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

      Thirty-five minutes had elapsed when Julius returned. He took Tuppence by the arm, and walked her to the window.

      “There she is.”

      “Oh!” said Tuppence with a note of reverence in her voice, as she gazed down at the enormous car.

      “She’s some pace-maker, I can tell you,” said Julius complacently.

      “How did you get it?” gasped Tuppence.

      “She was just being sent home to some bigwig.”

      “Well?”

      “I went round to his house,” said Julius. “I said that I reckoned a car like that was worth every penny of twenty thousand dollars. Then I told him that it was worth just about fifty thousand dollars to me if he’d get out.”

      “Well?” said Tuppence, intoxicated.

      “Well,” returned Julius, “he got out, that’s all.”

      Chapter 12

       A Friend in Need

       Table of Contents

      FRIDAY and Saturday passed uneventfully. Tuppence had received a brief answer to her appeal from Mr. Carter. In it he pointed out that the Young Adventurers had undertaken the work at their own risk, and had been fully warned of the dangers. If anything had happened to Tommy he regretted it deeply, but he could do nothing.

      This was cold comfort. Somehow, without Tommy, all the savour went out of the adventure, and, for the first time, Tuppence felt doubtful of success. While they had been together she had never questioned it for a minute. Although she was accustomed to take the lead, and to pride herself on her quick-wittedness, in reality she had relied upon Tommy more than she realized at the time. There was something so eminently sober and clear-headed about him, his common sense and soundness of vision were so unvarying, that without him Tuppence felt much like a rudderless ship. It was curious that Julius, who was undoubtedly much cleverer than Tommy, did not give her the same feeling of support. She had accused Tommy of being a pessimist, and it is certain that he always saw the disadvantages and difficulties which she herself was optimistically given to overlooking, but nevertheless she had really relied a good deal on his judgment. He might be slow, but he was very sure.

      It seemed to the girl that, for the first time, she realized the sinister character of the mission they had undertaken so lightheartedly. It had begun like a page of romance. Now, shorn of its glamour, it seemed to be turning to grim reality. Tommy—that was all that mattered. Many times in the day Tuppence blinked the tears out of her eyes resolutely. “Little fool,” she would apostrophize herself, “don’t snivel. Of course you’re fond of him. You’ve known him all your life. But there’s no need to be sentimental about it.”

      In the meantime, nothing more was seen of Boris. He did not come to the flat, and Julius and the car waited in vain. Tuppence gave herself over to new meditations. Whilst admitting the truth of Julius’s objections, she had nevertheless not entirely relinquished the idea of appealing to Sir James Peel Edgerton. Indeed, she had gone so far as to look up his address in the Red Book. Had he meant to warn her that day? If so, why? Surely she was at least entitled to demand an explanation. He had looked at her so kindly. Perhaps he might tell them something concerning Mrs. Vandemeyer which might lead to a clue to Tommy’s whereabouts.

      Anyway, Tuppence decided, with her usual shake of the shoulders, it was worth trying, and try it she would. Sunday was her afternoon out. She would meet Julius, persuade him to her point of view, and they would beard the lion in his den.

      When the day arrived Julius needed a considerable amount of persuading, but Tuppence held firm. “It can do no harm,” was what she always came back to. In the end Julius gave in, and they proceeded in the car to Carlton House Terrace.

      The door was opened by an irreproachable butler. Tuppence felt a little nervous. After all, perhaps it WAS colossal cheek on her part. She had decided not to ask if Sir James was “at home,” but to adopt a more personal attitude.

      “Will you ask Sir James if I can see him for a few minutes? I have an important message for him.”

      The butler retired, returning a moment or two later.

      “Sir James will see you. Will you step this way?”

      He ushered them into a room at the back of the house, furnished as a library. The collection of books was a magnificent one, and Tuppence noticed that all one wall was devoted to works on crime and criminology. There were several deep-padded leather arm-chairs, and an old-fashioned open hearth. In the window was a big roll-top desk strewn with papers at which the master of the house was sitting.

      He rose as they entered.

      “You have a message for me? Ah”—he recognized Tuppence with a smile—“it’s