Partners in Crime (Tommy & Tuppence 2)

A waiter brought up two extra chairs, and the two men sat down. The second man, who had not yet spoken, was shorter, sturdy in build and very dark.

"It is a matter of great delicacy," said the older man dropping his voice confidentially. He looked uncertainly at Tuppence. Mr. Blunt seemed to feel the glance.

"Let me introduce my confidential secretary," he said. "Miss Ganges. Found on the banks of the Indian river-a mere bundle of baby clothes. Very sad history. Miss Ganges is my eyes. She accompanies me everywhere."

The stranger acknowledged the introduction with a bow.

"Then I can speak out. Mr. Blunt, my daughter, a girl of sixteen, has been abducted under somewhat peculiar circumstances. I discovered this half an hour ago. The circumstances of the case were such that I dared not call in the police. Instead I rang up your office. They told me you were out to lunch, but would be back by half past two. I came in here with my friend Captain Harker-"

The short man jerked his head and muttered something.

"By the greatest good fortune you happened to be lunching here also. We must lose no time. You must return with me to my house immediately."

Tommy demurred cautiously.

"I can be with you in half an hour. I must return to my office first."

Captain Harker, turning to glance at Tuppence, may have been surprised to see a half smile lurking for a moment at the corners of her mouth.

"No, no, that will not do. You must return with me." The grey haired man took a card from his pocket and handed it across the table. "That is my name."

Tommy fingered it.

"My fingers are hardly sensitive enough for that," he said with a smile, and handed it to Tuppence, who read out in a low voice: "The Duke of Blairgowrie."

She looked with great interest at their client. The Duke of Blairgowrie was well known to be a most haughty and inaccessible nobleman who had married as a wife the daughter of a Chicago pork butcher, many years younger than himself, and of a lively temperament that augured ill for their future together. There had been rumors of disaccord lately.

"You will come at once, Mr. Blunt?" said the Duke, with a tinge of acerbity in his manner.

Tommy yielded to the inevitable.

"Miss Ganges and I will come with you," he said quietly. "You will excuse my just stopping to drink a large cup of black coffee? They will serve it immediately. I am subject to very distressing headaches, the result of my eye trouble, and the coffee steadies my nerves."

He called a waiter and gave the order. Then he spoke to Tuppence.

"Miss Ganges-I am lunching here tomorrow with the French Prefect of Police. Just note down the luncheon, and give it to the head waiter with instructions to reserve me my usual table. I am assisting the French Police in an important case. The fee-" he paused-"is considerable. Are you ready, Miss Ganges?"

"Quite ready," said Tuppence, her stylo poised.

"We win start with that special salad of Shrimps that they have here. Then to follow-let me see, to follow-Yes. Omelette Blitz, and perhaps a couple of Toundedos á l’Etranger."

He looked up, catching the Duke's eye.

"You will forgive me, I hope," he murmured. "Ah! yes, Soufflé en surprise. That will conclude the repast. A most interesting man, the French prefect. You know him, perhaps?"

The other replied in the negative, as Tuppence rose and went to speak to the head waiter. Presently she returned, just as the coffee was brought.

Tommy drank a large cup of it, sipping it slowly, then rose.

"My cane, Miss Ganges? Thank you. Directions, please?"

It was a moment of agony for Tuppence.

"One right, eighteen straight. About the fifth step, there is a waiter serving the table on your left."

Swinging his cane jauntily, Tommy set out. Tuppence kept close beside him, and endeavored unobtrusively to steer him. All went well until they were just passing out through the doorway. A man entered rather hurriedly, and before Tuppence could warn the blind Mr. Blunt, he had barged right into the newcomer. Explanations and apologies ensued.

At the door of the Blitz a smart landaulette was waiting. The Duke himself aided Mr. Blunt to get in.

"Your car here, Harker?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Yes. Just round the corner."

“Take Miss Ganges in it, will you."

Before another word could be said, he had jumped in beside Tommy, and the car rolled smoothly away.

"A very delicate matter," murmured the Duke. "I can soon acquaint you with all the details."

Tommy raised his hand to his head.

"I can remove my eyeshade now," he observed pleasantly. "It was only the glare of artificial light in the Restaurant necessitated its use.

But his arm was jerked down sharply. At the same time he felt something hard and round being poked between his ribs. "No, my dear Mr. Blunt," said the Duke's voice-but a voice that seemed suddenly different. "You will not remove that eyeshade. You will sit perfectly still and not move in any way. You understand? I don't want this pistol of mine to go off. You see, I happen not to be the Duke of Blairgowrie at all. I borrowed his name for the occasion, knowing that you would not refuse to accompany such a celebrated client. I am something much more prosaic-a ham merchant who has lost his wife."

He felt the start the other gave.

“That tells you something," he laughed. "My dear young man, you have been incredibly foolish. I'm afraid-I'm very much afraid that your activities will be curtailed in future."

He spoke the last words with a sinister relish.

Tommy sat motionless. He did not reply to the other's taunts.

Presently the car slackened its pace and drew up.

"Just a minute," said the pseudo Duke. He twisted a handkerchief deftly into Tommy's mouth, and drew up his scarf over it.

"In case you should be foolish enough to think of calling for help," he explained suavely.

The door of the car opened and the chauffeur stood ready. He and his master took Tommy between them and propelled him rapidly up some steps and in at the door of a house.

The door closed behind them. There was a rich oriental smell in the air. Tommy's feet sank deep into velvet pile. He was propelled in the same fashion up a flight of stairs and into a room which he judged to be at the back of the house. Here the two men bound his hands together. The chauffeur went out again, and the other removed the gag.

"You may speak freely now," he announced pleasantly. "What have you to say for yourself, young man?"

Tommy cleared his throat and eased the aching corners of his mouth.

"I hope you haven't lost my hollow cane," he said mildly. "It cost me a lot to have that made."

"You have nerve," said the other, after a minute's pause. "Or else you are just a fool. Don't you understand that I have got you-got you in the hollow of my hand? That you're absolutely in my power? That no one who knows you is ever likely to see you again?"

"Can't we cut out the melodrama?" asked Tommy plaintively. "Have I got to say 'You villain, I'll foil you yet?' That' sort of thing is so very much out of date."

"What about the girl?" said the other, watching him, "Doesn't that move you?"

"Putting two and two together during my enforced silence just now," said Tommy, "I have come to the inevitable conclusion that that chatty lad Harker is another of the doers of desperate deeds, and that therefore my unfortunate secretary will shortly join this little tea party."

"Right as to one point, but wrong on the other. Mrs. Beresford-you see I know all about you-Mrs. Beresford will not be brought here. That is a little precaution I took. It occurred to me that just probably your friends in high places might be keeping you shadowed. In that case, by dividing the pursuit, you could not both be trailed. I should still keep one in my hands. I am waiting now-"

He broke off, as the door opened. The chauffeur spoke.

"We've not been followed, sir. It's all clear."

"Good. You can go, Gregory."

/> The door closed again.

"So far, so good," said the 'Duke.' "And now what are we to do with you, Mr. Beresford Blunt?"

"I wish you'd take this confounded eyeshade off me," said Tommy.

"I think not. With it on, you are truly blind-without it you would see as well as I do-and that would not suit my little plan. For I have a plan. You are fond of sensational fiction, Mr. Blunt. This little game that you and your wife were playing today proves that. Now I too have arranged a little game something rather ingenious, as I am sure you will admit when I explain it to you.

"You see, this floor on which you are standing is made of metal, and here and there on its surface are little projections. I touch a switch-so." A sharp click sounded. "Now the electric current is switched on. To tread on one of those little knobs now means-death! You understand? If you could see . . . but you cannot see. You are in the dark. That is the game-Blindman's Buff with death. If you can reach the door in safety-freedom! But I think that long before you reach it you will have trodden on one of the danger spots. And that will be very amusing-for me!"

He came forward and unbound Tommy's hands. Then he handed him his cane with a little ironical bow.