The Greatest Murder Mysteries - Agatha Christie Edition. Agatha Christie

you?’ ‘I am Dr. Hall, and this, as you doubtless know, is my private nursing home.’

      “I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to put him wise. I was just thankful for the information. I liked the man, and I felt he was straight, but I wasn’t going to give him the whole story. For one thing he probably wouldn’t have believed it.

      “I made up my mind in a flash. ‘Why, doctor,’ I said, ‘I guess I feel an almighty fool, but I owe it to you to let you know that it wasn’t the Bill Sikes business I was up to.’ Then I went on and mumbled out something about a girl. I trotted out the stern guardian business, and a nervous breakdown, and finally explained that I had fancied I recognized her among the patients at the home, hence my nocturnal adventures. “I guess it was just the kind of story he was expecting. ‘Quite a romance,’ he said genially, when I’d finished. ‘Now, doc,’ I went on, ‘will you be frank with me? Have you here now, or have you had here at any time, a young girl called Jane Finn?’ He repeated the name thoughtfully. ‘Jane Finn?’ he said. ‘No.’

      “I was chagrined, and I guess I showed it. ‘You are sure?’ ‘Quite sure, Mr. Hersheimmer. It is an uncommon name, and I should not have been likely to forget it.’

      “Well, that was flat. It laid me out for a space. I’d kind of hoped my search was at an end. ‘That’s that,’ I said at last. ‘Now, there’s another matter. When I was hugging that darned branch I thought I recognized an old friend of mine talking to one of your nurses.’ I purposely didn’t mention any name because, of course, Whittington might be calling himself something quite different down here, but the doctor answered at once. ‘Mr. Whittington, perhaps?’ ‘That’s the fellow,’ I replied. ‘What’s he doing down here? Don’t tell me HIS nerves are out of order?’

      “Dr. Hall laughed. ‘No. He came down to see one of my nurses, Nurse Edith, who is a niece of his.’ ‘Why, fancy that!’ I exclaimed. ‘Is he still here?’ ‘No, he went back to town almost immediately.’ ‘What a pity!’ I ejaculated. ‘But perhaps I could speak to his niece—Nurse Edith, did you say her name was?’

      “But the doctor shook his head. ‘I’m afraid that, too, is impossible. Nurse Edith left with a patient to-night also.’ ‘I seem to be real unlucky,’ I remarked. ‘Have you Mr. Whittington’s address in town? I guess I’d like to look him up when I get back.’ ‘I don’t know his address. I can write to Nurse Edith for it if you like.’ I thanked him. ‘Don’t say who it is wants it. I’d like to give him a little surprise.’

      “That was about all I could do for the moment. Of course, if the girl was really Whittington’s niece, she might be too cute to fall into the trap, but it was worth trying. Next thing I did was to write out a wire to Beresford saying where I was, and that I was laid up with a sprained foot, and telling him to come down if he wasn’t busy. I had to be guarded in what I said. However, I didn’t hear from him, and my foot soon got all right. It was only ricked, not really sprained, so to-day I said good-bye to the little doctor chap, asked him to send me word if he heard from Nurse Edith, and came right away back to town. Say, Miss Tuppence, you’re looking mighty pale!”

      “It’s Tommy,” said Tuppence. “What can have happened to him?”

      “Buck up, I guess he’s all right really. Why shouldn’t he be? See here, it was a foreign-looking guy he went off after. Maybe they’ve gone abroad—to Poland, or something like that?”

      Tuppence shook her head.

      “He couldn’t without passports and things. Besides I’ve seen that man, Boris Something, since. He dined with Mrs. Vandemeyer last night.”

      “Mrs. Who?”

      “I forgot. Of course you don’t know all that.”

      “I’m listening,” said Julius, and gave vent to his favourite expression. “Put me wise.”

      Tuppence thereupon related the events of the last two days. Julius’s astonishment and admiration were unbounded.

      “Bully for you! Fancy you a menial. It just tickles me to death!” Then he added seriously: “But say now, I don’t like it, Miss Tuppence, I sure don’t. You’re just as plucky as they make ‘em, but I wish you’d keep right out of this. These crooks we’re up against would as soon croak a girl as a man any day.”

      “Do you think I’m afraid?” said Tuppence indignantly, valiantly repressing memories of the steely glitter in Mrs. Vandemeyer’s eyes.

      “I said before you were darned plucky. But that doesn’t alter facts.”

      “Oh, bother ME!” said Tuppence impatiently. “Let’s think about what can have happened to Tommy. I’ve written to Mr. Carter about it,” she added, and told him the gist of her letter.

      Julius nodded gravely.

      “I 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.