Suddenly Tuppence felt afraid. There was a ring in Mrs. Vandemeyer’svoice that she did not like at all. Also, the other woman was slowlyedging her up the passage. Tuppence turned at bay.
“I don’t want----”
Then, in a flash, a rim of cold steel touched her temple, and Mrs.Vandemeyer’s voice rose cold and menacing:
“You damned little fool! Do you think I don’t know? No, don’t answer. Ifyou struggle or cry out, I’ll shoot you like a dog.”
The rim of steel pressed a little harder against the girl’s temple.
“Now then, march,” went on Mrs. Vandemeyer. “This way--into my room. Ina minute, when I’ve done with you, you’ll go to bed as I told you to.And you’ll sleep--oh yes, my little spy, you’ll sleep all right!”
There was a sort of hideous geniality in the last words which Tuppencedid not at all like. For the moment there was nothing to be done, andshe walked obediently into Mrs. Vandemeyer’s bedroom. The pistol neverleft her forehead. The room was in a state of wild disorder, clotheswere flung about right and left, a suit-case and a hat box, half-packed,stood in the middle of the floor.
Tuppence pulled herself together with an effort. Her voice shook alittle, but she spoke out bravely.
“Come now,” she said. “This is nonsense. You can’t shoot me. Why, everyone in the building would hear the report.”
“I’d risk that,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer cheerfully. “But, as long as youdon’t sing out for help, you’re all right--and I don’t think you will.You’re a clever girl. You deceived _me_ all right. I hadn’t a suspicionof you! So I’ve no doubt that you understand perfectly well that thisis where I’m on top and you’re underneath. Now then--sit on the bed. Putyour hands above your head, and if you value your life don’t move them.”
Tuppence obeyed passively. Her good sense told her that there wasnothing else to do but accept the situation. If she shrieked for helpthere was very little chance of anyone hearing her, whereas there wasprobably quite a good chance of Mrs. Vandemeyer’s shooting her. In themeantime, every minute of delay gained was valuable.
Mrs. Vandemeyer laid down the revolver on the edge of the washstandwithin reach of her hand, and, still eyeing Tuppence like a lynx in casethe girl should attempt to move, she took a little stoppered bottle fromits place on the marble and poured some of its contents into a glasswhich she filled up with water.
“What’s that?” asked Tuppence sharply.
“Something to make you sleep soundly.”
Tuppence paled a little.
“Are you going to poison me?” she asked in a whisper.
“Perhaps,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer, smiling agreeably.
“Then I shan’t drink it,” said Tuppence firmly. “I’d much rather beshot. At any rate that would make a row, and some one might hear it. ButI won’t be killed off quietly like a lamb.”
Mrs. Vandemeyer stamped her foot.
“Don’t be a little fool! Do you really think I want a hue and cry formurder out after me? If you’ve any sense at all, you’ll realize thatpoisoning you wouldn’t suit my book at all. It’s a sleeping draught,that’s all. You’ll wake up to-morrow morning none the worse. I simplydon’t want the bother of tying you up and gagging you. That’s thealternative--and you won’t like it, I can tell you! I can be very roughif I choose. So drink this down like a good girl, and you’ll be none theworse for it.”
In her heart of hearts Tuppence believed her. The arguments she hadadduced rang true. It was a simple and effective method of getting herout of the way for the time being. Nevertheless, the girl did not takekindly to the idea of being tamely put to sleep without as much as onebid for freedom. She felt that once Mrs. Vandemeyer gave them the slip,the last hope of finding Tommy would be gone.
Tuppence was quick in her mental processes. All these reflectionspassed through her mind in a flash, and she saw where a chance, a veryproblematical chance, lay, and she determined to risk all in one supremeeffort.
Accordingly, she lurched suddenly off the bed and fell on her kneesbefore Mrs. Vandemeyer, clutching her skirts frantically.
“I don’t believe it,” she moaned. “It’s poison--I know it’s poison.Oh, don’t make me drink it”--her voice rose to a shriek--“don’t make medrink it!”
Mrs. Vandemeyer, glass in hand, looked down with a curling lip at thissudden collapse.
“Get up, you little idiot! Don’t go on drivelling there. How you everhad the nerve to play your part as you did I can’t think.” She stampedher foot. “Get up, I say.”
But Tuppence continued to cling and sob, interjecting her sobs withincoherent appeals for mercy. Every minute gained was to the good.Moreover, as she grovelled, she moved imperceptibly nearer to herobjective.
Mrs. Vandemeyer gave a sharp impatient exclamation, and jerked the girlto her knees.
“Drink it at once!” Imperiously she pressed the glass to the girl’slips.
Tuppence gave one last despairing moan.
“You swear it won’t hurt me?” she temporized.
“Of course it won’t hurt you. Don’t be a fool.”
“Will you swear it?”
“Yes, yes,” said the other impatiently. “I swear it.”
Tuppence raised a trembling left hand to the glass.
“Very well.” Her mouth opened meekly.
Mrs. Vandemeyer gave a sigh of relief, off her guard for the moment.Then, quick as a flash, Tuppence jerked the glass upward as hard as shecould. The fluid in it splashed into Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face, and duringher momentary gasp, Tuppence’s right hand shot out and grasped therevolver where it lay on the edge of the washstand. The next momentshe had sprung back a pace, and the revolver pointed straight at Mrs.Vandemeyer’s heart, with no unsteadiness in the hand that held it.
In the moment of victory, Tuppence betrayed a somewhat unsportsmanliketriumph.
“Now who’s on top and who’s underneath?” she crowed.
The other’s face was convulsed with rage. For a minute Tuppence thoughtshe was going to spring upon her, which would have placed the girl in anunpleasant dilemma, since she meant to draw the line at actually lettingoff the revolver. However, with an effort Mrs. Vandemeyer controlledherself, and at last a slow evil smile crept over her face.
“Not a fool, then, after all! You did that well, girl. But you shall payfor it--oh, yes, you shall pay for it! I have a long memory!”
“I’m surprised you should have been gulled so easily,” said Tuppencescornfully. “Did you really think I was the kind of girl to roll abouton the floor and whine for mercy?”
“You may do--some day!” said the other significantly.
The cold malignity of her manner sent an unpleasant chill downTuppence’s spine, but she was not going to give in to it.
“Supposing we sit down,” she
said pleasantly. “Our present attitude isa little melodramatic. No--not on the bed. Draw a chair up to the table,that’s right. Now I’ll sit opposite you with the revolver in front ofme--just in case of accidents. Splendid. Now, let’s talk.”
“What about?” said Mrs. Vandemeyer sullenly.
Tuppence eyed her thoughtfully for a minute. She was remembering severalthings. Boris’s words, “I believe you would sell-- _us!_” and heranswer, “The price would have to be enormous,” given lightly, it wastrue, yet might not there be a substratum of truth in it? Long ago,had not Whittington asked: “Who’s been blabbing? Rita?” Would RitaVandemeyer prove to be the weak spot in the armour of Mr. Brown?
Keeping her eyes fixed steadily on the other’s face, Tuppence repliedquietly:
“Money----”
Mrs. Vandemeyer started. Clearly, the reply was unexpected.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll tell you. You said just now that you had a long memory. A longmemory isn’t half as useful as a long purse! I dare say it relieves yourfeelings a good deal to plan out all sorts of dreadful things to do tome, but is that _practical?_ Revenge is very unsatisfactory. Every onealways says so. But money”--Tuppence warmed to her pet creed--“well,there’s nothing unsatisfactory about money, is there?”
“Do you think,” said Mrs. Vandemeyer scornfully, “that I am the kind ofwoman to sell my friends?”
“Yes,” said Tuppence promptly. “If the price was big enough.”
“A paltry hundred pounds or so!”
“No,” said Tuppence. “I should suggest--a hundred thousand!”
Her economical spirit did not permit her to mention the whole milliondollars suggested by Julius.
A flush crept over Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face.
“What did you say?” she asked, her fingers playing nervously with abrooch on her breast. In that moment Tuppence knew that the fish washooked, and for the first time she felt a horror of her own money-lovingspirit. It gave her a dreadful sense of kinship to the woman frontingher.
“A hundred thousand pounds,” repeated Tuppence.
The light died out of Mrs. Vandemeyer’s eyes. She leaned back in herchair.
“Bah!” she said. “You haven’t got it.”
“No,” admitted Tuppence, “I haven’t--but I know some one who has.”
“Who?”
“A friend of mine.”
“Must be a millionaire,” remarked Mrs. Vandemeyer unbelievingly.
“As a matter of fact he is. He’s an American. He’ll pay you thatwithout a murmur. You can take it from me that it’s a perfectly genuineproposition.”
Mrs. Vandemeyer sat up again.
“I’m inclined to believe you,” she said slowly.
There was silence between them for some time, then Mrs. Vandemeyerlooked up.
“What does he want to know, this friend of yours?”
Tuppence went through a momentary struggle, but it was Julius’s money,and his interests must come first.
“He wants to know where Jane Finn is,” she said boldly.
Mrs. Vandemeyer showed no surprise.
“I’m not sure where she is at the present moment,” she replied.
“But you could find out?”
“Oh, yes,” returned Mrs. Vandemeyer carelessly. “There would be nodifficulty about that.”
“Then”--Tuppence’s voice shook a little--“there’s a boy, a friend ofmine. I’m afraid something’s happened to him, through your pal Boris.”
“What’s his name?”
“Tommy Beresford.”
“Never heard of him. But I’ll ask Boris. He’ll tell me anything heknows.”
“Thank you.” Tuppence felt a terrific rise in her spirits. It impelledher to more audacious efforts. “There’s one thing more.”
“Well?”
Tuppence leaned forward and lowered her voice.
_“Who is Mr. Brown?”_
Her quick eyes saw the sudden paling of the beautiful face. With aneffort Mrs. Vandemeyer pulled herself together and tried to resume herformer manner. But the attempt was a mere parody.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“You can’t have learnt much about us if you don’t know that _nobodyknows who Mr. Brown is_....”
“You do,” said Tuppence quietly.
Again the colour deserted the other’s face.
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know,” said the girl truthfully. “But I’m sure.”
Mrs. Vandemeyer stared in front of her for a long time.
“Yes,” she said hoarsely, at last, “_I_ know. I was beautiful, yousee--very beautiful----”
“You are still,” said Tuppence with admiration.
Mrs. Vandemeyer shook her head. There was a strange gleam in herelectric-blue eyes.
“Not beautiful enough,” she said in a soft dangerous voice.“Not--beautiful--enough! And sometimes, lately, I’ve been afraid....It’s dangerous to know too much!” She leaned forward across the table.“Swear that my name shan’t be brought into it--that no one shall everknow.”
“I swear it. And, once’s he caught, you’ll be out of danger.”
A terrified look swept across Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face.
“Shall I? Shall I ever be?” She clutched Tuppence’s arm. “You’re sureabout the money?”
“Quite sure.”
“When shall I have it? There must be no delay.”
“This friend of mine will be here presently. He may have to send cables,or something like that. But there won’t be any delay--he’s a terrifichustler.”
A resolute look settled on Mrs. Vandemeyer’s face.
“I’ll do it. It’s a great sum of money, and besides”--she gave a curioussmile--“it is not--wise to throw over a woman like me!”
For a moment or two, she remained smiling, and lightly tapping herfingers on the table. Suddenly she started, and her face blanched.
“What was that?”
“I heard nothing.”
Mrs. Vandemeyer gazed round her fearfully.
“If there should be some one listening----”
“Nonsense. Who could there be?”
“Even the walls might have ears,” whispered the other. “I tell you I’mfrightened. You don’t know him!”
“Think of the hundred thousand pounds,” said Tuppence soothingly.
Mrs. Vandemeyer passed her tongue over her dried lips.
“You don’t know him,” she reiterated hoarsely. “He’s--ah!”
With a shriek of terror she sprang to her feet. Her outstretched handpointed over Tuppence’s head. Then she swayed to the ground in a deadfaint.
Tuppence looked round to see what had startled her.
In the doorway were Sir James Peel Edgerton and Julius Hersheimmer.