The Secret Adversary (Tommy & Tuppence 1)

CHAPTER IV. WHO IS JANE FINN?

THE next day passed slowly. It was necessary to curtail expenditure.Carefully husbanded, forty pounds will last a long time. Luckily theweather was fine, and “walking is cheap,” dictated Tuppence. An outlyingpicture house provided them with recreation for the evening.

The day of disillusionment had been a Wednesday. On Thursday theadvertisement had duly appeared. On Friday letters might be expected toarrive at Tommy’s rooms.

He had been bound by an honourable promise not to open any such lettersif they did arrive, but to repair to the National Gallery, where hiscolleague would meet him at ten o’clock.

Tuppence was first at the rendezvous. She ensconced herself on a redvelvet seat, and gazed at the Turners with unseeing eyes until she sawthe familiar figure enter the room.

“Well?”

“Well,” returned Mr. Beresford provokingly. “Which is your favouritepicture?”

“Don’t be a wretch. Aren’t there _any_ answers?”

Tommy shook his head with a deep and somewhat overacted melancholy.

“I didn’t want to disappoint you, old thing, by telling you right off.It’s too bad. Good money wasted.” He sighed. “Still, there it is. Theadvertisement has appeared, and--there are only two answers!”

“Tommy, you devil!” almost screamed Tuppence. “Give them to me. Howcould you be so mean!”

“Your language, Tuppence, your language! They’re very particular at theNational Gallery. Government show, you know. And do remember, as I havepointed out to you before, that as a clergyman’s daughter----”

“I ought to be on the stage!” finished Tuppence with a snap.

“That is not what I intended to say. But if you are sure that you haveenjoyed to the full the reaction of joy after despair with which I havekindly provided you free of charge, let us get down to our mail, as thesaying goes.”

Tuppence snatched the two precious envelopes from him unceremoniously,and scrutinized them carefully.

“Thick paper, this one. It looks rich. We’ll keep it to the last andopen the other first.”

“Right you are. One, two, three, go!”

Tuppence’s little thumb ripped open the envelope, and she extracted thecontents.

“DEAR SIR,

“Referring to your advertisement in this morning’s paper, I may be ableto be of some use to you. Perhaps you could call and see me at the aboveaddress at eleven o’clock to-morrow morning.

“Yours truly,

“A. CARTER.”

“27 Carshalton Gardens,” said Tuppence, referring to the address.“That’s Gloucester Road way. Plenty of time to get there if we tube.”

“The following,” said Tommy, “is the plan of campaign. It is my turn toassume the offensive. Ushered into the presence of Mr. Carter, he and Iwish each other good morning as is customary. He then says: ‘Please takea seat, Mr.--er?’ To which I reply promptly and significantly: ‘EdwardWhittington!’ whereupon Mr. Carter turns purple in the face and gaspsout: ‘How much?’ Pocketing the usual fee of fifty pounds, I rejoin youin the road outside, and we proceed to the next address and repeat theperformance.”

“Don’t be absurd, Tommy. Now for the other letter. Oh, this is from the_Ritz!_”

“A hundred pounds instead of fifty!”

“I’ll read it:

“DEAR SIR,

“Re your advertisement, I should be glad if you would call roundsomewhere about lunch-time.

“Yours truly,

“JULIUS P. HERSHEIMMER.”

“Ha!” said Tommy. “Do I smell a Boche? Or only an American millionaireof unfortunate ancestry? At all events we’ll call at lunch-time. It’s agood time--frequently leads to free food for two.”

Tuppence nodded assent.

“Now for Carter. We’ll have to hurry.”

Carshalton Terrace proved to be an unimpeachable row of what Tuppencecalled “ladylike looking houses.” They rang the bell at No. 27, and aneat maid answered the door. She looked so respectable that Tuppence’sheart sank. Upon Tommy’s request for Mr. Carter, she showed them intoa small study on the ground floor where she left them. Hardly a minuteelapsed, however, before the door opened, and a tall man with a leanhawklike face and a tired manner entered the room.

“Mr. Y. A.?” he said, and smiled. His smile was distinctly attractive.“Do sit down, both of you.”

They obeyed. He himself took a chair opposite to Tuppence and smiled ather encouragingly. There was something in the quality of his smile thatmade the girl’s usual readiness desert her.

As he did not seem inclined to open the conversation, Tuppence wasforced to begin.

“We wanted to know--that is, would you be so kind as to tell us anythingyou know about Jane Finn?”

“Jane Finn? Ah!” Mr. Carter appeared to reflect. “Well, the question is,what do _you_ know about her?”

Tuppence drew herself up.

“I don’t see that that’s got anything to do with it.”

“No? But it has, you know, really it has.” He smiled again in his tiredway, and continued reflectively. “So that brings us down to it again.What do _you_ know about Jane Finn?

“Come now,” he continued, as Tuppence remained silent. “You must know_something_ to have advertised as you did?” He leaned forward a little,his weary voice held a hint of persuasiveness. “Suppose you tell me....”

There was something very magnetic about Mr. Carter’s personality.Tuppence seemed to shake herself free of it with an effort, as she said:

“We couldn’t do that, could we, Tommy?”

But to her surprise, her companion did not back her up. His eyes werefixed on Mr. Carter, and his tone when he spoke held an unusual note ofdeference.

“I dare say the little we know won’t be any good to you, sir. But suchas it is, you’re welcome to it.”

“Tommy!” cried out Tuppence in surprise.

Mr. Carter slewed round in his chair. His eyes asked a question.

Tommy nodded.

“Yes, sir, I recognized you at once. Saw you in France when I was withthe Intelligence. As soon as you came into the room, I knew----”

Mr. Carter held up his hand.

“No names, please. I’m known as Mr. Carter here. It’s my cousin’s house,by the way. She’s willing to lend it to me sometimes when it’s a case ofworking on strictly unofficial lines. Well, now”--he looked from one tothe other--“who’s going to tell me the story?”

“Fire ahead, Tuppence,” directed Tommy. “It’s your yarn.”

“Yes, little lady, out with it.”