The Secret Adversary (Tommy & Tuppence 1)

“Exactly,” said Tuppence. “That’s just it. The terms are almost tooliberal, Mr. Whittington. I cannot see any way in which I can be worththat amount of money to you.”

“No?”

said Whittington softly. “Well, I will tell you. I could doubtlessobtain some one else for very much less. What I am willing to pay foris a young lady with sufficient intelligence and presence of mind tosustain her part well, and also one who will have sufficient discretionnot to ask too many questions.”

Tuppence smiled a little. She felt that Whittington had scored.

“There’s another thing. So far there has been no mention of Mr.Beresford. Where does he come in?”

“Mr. Beresford?”

“My partner,” said Tuppence with dignity. “You saw us togetheryesterday.”

“Ah, yes. But I’m afraid we shan’t require his services.”

“Then it’s off!” Tuppence rose. “It’s both or neither. Sorry--but that’show it is. Good morning, Mr. Whittington.”

“Wait a minute. Let us see if something can’t be managed. Sit downagain, Miss----” He paused interrogatively.

Tuppence’s conscience gave her a passing twinge as she remembered thearchdeacon. She seized hurriedly on the first name that came into herhead.

“Jane Finn,” she said hastily; and then paused open-mouthed at theeffect of those two simple words.

All the geniality had faded out of Whittington’s face. It was purplewith rage, and the veins stood out on the forehead. And behind it allthere lurked a sort of incredulous dismay. He leaned forward and hissedsavagely:

“So that’s your little game, is it?”

Tuppence, though utterly taken aback, nevertheless kept her head. Shehad not the faintest comprehension of his meaning, but she was naturallyquick-witted, and felt it imperative to “keep her end up” as she phrasedit.

Whittington went on:

“Been playing with me, have you, all the time, like a cat and mouse?Knew all the time what I wanted you for, but kept up the comedy. Is thatit, eh?” He was cooling down. The red colour was ebbing out of his face.He eyed her keenly. “Who’s been blabbing? Rita?”

Tuppence shook her head. She was doubtful as to how long she couldsustain this illusion, but she realized the importance of not draggingan unknown Rita into it.

“No,” she replied with perfect truth. “Rita knows nothing about me.”

His eyes still bored into her like gimlets.

“How much do you know?” he shot out.

“Very little indeed,” answered Tuppence, and was pleased to note thatWhittington’s uneasiness was augmented instead of allayed. To haveboasted that she knew a lot might have raised doubts in his mind.

“Anyway,” snarled Whittington, “you knew enough to come in here andplump out that name.”

“It might be my own name,” Tuppence pointed out.

“It’s likely, isn’t it, then there would be two girls with a name likethat?”

“Or I might just have hit upon it by chance,” continued Tuppence,intoxicated with the success of truthfulness.

Mr. Whittington brought his fist down upon the desk with a bang.

“Quit fooling! How much do you know? And how much do you want?”

The last five words took Tuppence’s fancy mightily, especially after ameagre breakfast and a supper of buns the night before. Her present partwas of the adventuress rather than the adventurous order, but she didnot deny its possibilities. She sat up and smiled with the air of onewho has the situation thoroughly well in hand.

“My dear Mr. Whittington,” she said, “let us by all means lay our cardsupon the table. And pray do not be so angry. You heard me say yesterdaythat I proposed to live by my wits. It seems to me that I have nowproved I have some wits to live by! I admit I have knowledge of acertain name, but perhaps my knowledge ends there.”

“Yes--and perhaps it doesn’t,” snarled Whittington.

“You insist on misjudging me,” said Tuppence, and sighed gently.

“As I said once before,” said Whittington angrily, “quit fooling, andcome to the point. You can’t play the innocent with me. You know a greatdeal more than you’re willing to admit.”

Tuppence paused a moment to admire her own ingenuity, and then saidsoftly:

“I shouldn’t like to contradict you, Mr. Whittington.”

“So we come to the usual question--how much?”

Tuppence was in a dilemma. So far she had fooled Whittington withcomplete success, but to mention a palpably impossible sum might awakenhis suspicions. An idea flashed across her brain.

“Suppose we say a little something down, and a fuller discussion of thematter later?”

Whittington gave her an ugly glance.

“Blackmail, eh?”

Tuppence smiled sweetly.

“Oh no! Shall we say payment of services in advance?”

Whittington grunted.

“You see,” explained Tuppence still sweetly, “I’m so very fond ofmoney!”

“You’re about the limit, that’s what you are,” growled Whittington, witha sort of unwilling admiration. “You took me in all right. Thought youwere quite a meek little kid with just enough brains for my purpose.”

“Life,” moralized Tuppence, “is full of surprises.”

“All the same,” continued Whittington, “some one’s been talking. You sayit isn’t Rita. Was it----? Oh, come in.”

The clerk followed his discreet knock into the room, and laid a paper athis master’s elbow.

“Telephone message just come for you, sir.”

Whittington snatched it up and read it. A frown gathered on his brow.

“That’ll do, Brown. You can go.”

The clerk withdrew, closing the door behind him. Whittington turned toTuppence.

“Come to-morrow at the same time. I’m busy now. Here’s fifty to go onwith.”

He rapidly sorted out some notes, and pushed them across the table toTuppence, then stood up, obviously impatient for her to go.

The girl counted the notes in a businesslike manner, secured them in herhandbag, and rose.

“Good morning, Mr. Whittington,” she said politely. “At least, aurevoir, I should say.”

“Exactly. Au revoir!” Whittington looked almost genial again, areversion that aroused in Tuppence a faint misgiving. “Au revoir, myclever and charming young lady.”

Tuppence sped lightly down the stairs. A wild elation possessed her. Aneighbouring clock showed the time to be five minutes to twelve.

“Let’s give Tommy a surprise!” murmured Tuppence, and hailed a taxi.

The cab drew up outside the tube station. Tommy was just within theentrance. His eyes opened to their fullest extent as he hurried forwardto assist Tuppence to alight. She smiled at him affectionately, andremarked in a slightly affected voice:

“Pay the thing, will you, old bean? I’ve got nothing smaller than afive-pound note!”