Partners in Crime (Tommy & Tuppence 2)

"Well-yes, laddie, that was the jolly old idea. Can it be done?"

"You haven't an appointment, I suppose?"

The visitor became more and more apologetic.

"Afraid I haven't."

"It's always wise, sir, to ring up on the phone first. Mr. Blunt is so terribly busy. He's engaged on the telephone at the moment. Called into consultation by Scotland Yard."

The young man seemed suitably impressed.

Albert lowered his voice, and imported information in a friendly fashion.

"Important theft of documents from a Government Office. They want Mr. Blunt to take up the case."

"Oh! really. I say. He must be no end of a fellow."

"The Boss, sir," said Albert, "is It."

The young man sat down on a hard chair, completely unconscious of the fact that he was being subjected to keen scrutiny by two pairs of eyes looking through cunningly contrived peep holes-those of Tuppence, in the intervals of frenzied typing, and those of Tommy awaiting the suitable moment.

Presently a bell rang with violence on Albert's desk.

"The Boss is free now. I will find out whether he can see you," said Albert, and disappeared through the door marked "Private."

He reappeared immediately.

"Will you come this way, sir?"

The visitor was ushered into the private office, and a pleasant faced young man with red hair and an air of brisk capability rose to greet him.

"Sit down. You wished to consult me? I am Mr. Blunt."

"Oh! Really. I say, you're awfully young, aren't you?"

"The day of the Old Men is over," said Tommy waving his hand. "Who caused the War? The Old Men. Who is responsible for the present state of unemployment? The Old Men. Who is responsible for every single rotten thing that has happened? Again I say, the Old Men!"

"I expect you are right," said the client. "I know a fellow who is a poet-at least he says he is a poet-and he always talks like that."

"Let me tell you this, sir, not a person on my highly trained staff is a day over twenty-five. That is the truth."

Since the highly trained staff consisted of Tuppence and Albert, the statement was truth itself.

"And now-the facts," said Mr. Blunt.

"I want you to find someone that's missing," blurted out the young man.

"Quite so. Will you give me the details?"

"Well, you see, it's rather difficult. I mean, it's a frightfully delicate business and all that. She might be frightfully waxy about it. I mean-well, it's so dashed difficult to explain."

He looked helplessly at Tommy. Tommy felt annoyed. He had been on the point of going out to lunch, but he foresaw that getting the facts out of this client would be a long and tedious business.

"Did she disappear of her own free will, or do you suspect abduction?" he demanded crisply.

"I don't know," said the young man. "I don't know anything."

Tommy reached for a pad and pencil.

"First of all," he said, "will you give me your name? My office boy is trained never to ask names. In that way consultations can remain completely confidential."

"Oh! rather," said the young man. "Jolly good idea. My name-er-my name's Smith."

"Oh! no," said Tommy. "The real one, please."

His visitor looked at him in awe.

"Er-St. Vincent," he said. "Lawrence St. Vincent."

"It's a curious thing," said Tommy, "how very few people there are whose real name is Smith. Personally, I don't know anyone called Smith. But nine men out of ten who wish to conceal their real name give that of Smith. I am writing a monograph upon the subject."

At that moment a buzzer purred discreetly on his desk. That meant that Tuppence was requesting to take hold. Tommy, who wanted his lunch, and who felt profoundly unsympathetic towards Mr. St. Vincent, was only too pleased to relinquish the helm.

"Excuse me," he said, and picked up the telephone.

Across his face there shot rapid changes-surprise, consternation, slight elation.

"You don't say so," he said into the phone. "The Prime Minister himself? Of course, in that case, I will come round at once."

He replaced the receiver on the hook, and turned to his client.

"My dear sir, I must ask you to excuse me. A most urgent summons. If you will give the facts of the case to my confidential secretary, she will deal with them."

He strode to the adjoining door.

"Miss Robinson."

Tuppence, very neat and demure with smooth black head and dainty collar and cuffs, tripped in. Tommy made the necessary introductions and departed.

"A lady you take an interest in has disappeared, I understand, Mr. St. Vincent," said Tuppence, in her soft voice, as she sat down and took up Mr. Blunt's pad and pencil. "A young lady?"

"Oh! rather," said Mr. St. Vincent. "Young-and-and-awfully good-looking and all that sort of thing."

Tuppence's face grew grave.

"Dear me," she murmured. "I hope that-"

"You don't think anything's really happened to her?" demanded Mr. St. Vincent, in lively concern.

"Oh! we must hope for the best," said Tuppence, with a kind of false cheerfulness which depressed Mr. St. Vincent horribly.

"Oh! look here, Miss Robinson. I say, you must do something. Spare no expense. I wouldn't have anything happen to her for the world. You seem awfully sympathetic, and I don't mind telling you in confidence that I simply worship the ground that girl walks on. She's a topper, an absolute topper."

“Please tell me her name and all about her.”

"Her name's Janet-I don't know her second name. She works in a hat shop-Madame Violette's in Brook Street-but she's as straight as they make them. Has ticked me off no end of times-I went round there yesterday-waiting for her to come out-all the others came, but not her. Then I found that she'd never turned up that morning to work at all-sent no message either-old Madame was furious about it. I got the address of her lodgings, and I went round there. She hadn't come home the night before, and they didn't know where she was. I was simply frantic. I thought of going to the police. But I knew that Janet would be absolutely furious with me for doing that if she were really all right and had gone off on her own. Then I remembered that she herself had pointed out your advertisement to me one day in the paper and told me that one of the women who'd been in buying hats had simply raved about your ability and discretion and all that sort of thing. So I toddled along here right away."

"I see," said Tuppence. "What is the address of her lodgings?"

The young man gave it to her.

"That's all, I think," said Tuppence reflectively. "That is to say-am I to understand that you are engaged to this young lady?"

Mr. St. Vincent turned a brick red.

"Well, no-not exactly. I never said anything. But I can tell you this, I mean to ask her to marry me as soon as ever I see her-if I ever do see her again."

Tuppence laid aside her pad.

"Do you wish for our special twenty-four hour service?" she asked, in business like tones.

"What's that?"

"The fees are doubled, but we put all our available staff on to the case. Mr. St. Vincent, if the lady is alive, I shall be able to tell you where she is by this time to-morrow."

"What? I say, that's wonderful."

"We only employ experts-and we guarantee results," said Tuppence crisply.

"But I say, you know. You must have the most topping staff.”

"Oh! we have," said Tuppence. "By the way, you haven't given me a description of the young lady."

"She's got the most marvelous hair-sort of golden, but very deep, like a jolly old sunset-that's it, a, jolly old sunset. You know, I never noticed things like sunsets until lately. Poetry too, there's a lot more in poetry than I ever thought."

"Red hair," said Tuppence unemotionally, writing it down. "What height should you say the lady was?"

"Oh! tallish, and she's got ripping eyes, dark blue, I think. And a sort of decid

ed manner with her-takes a fellow up short sometimes."

Tuppence wrote down a few words more, then closed her note book and rose.

"If you will call here to-morrow at two o'clock, I think we shall have news of some kind for you," she said. "Good morning, Mr. St. Vincent."

When Tommy returned Tuppence was just consulting a page of Debrett.

"I've got all the details," she said succinctly. "Lawrence St. Vincent is the nephew and heir of the Earl of Cheriton. If we pull this through we shall get publicity in the highest places."

Tommy read through the notes on the pad.

"What do you really think has happened to the girl?" he asked.

"I think," said Tuppence, "that she has fled at the dictates of her heart, feeling that she loves this young man too well for her peace of mind."

Tommy looked at her doubtfully.