'Things always get round,' said Tuppence. 'Quite a place here for things getting round. Are you going to say the same things, Tommy?'
'Well, roughly. Say, perhaps, that we don't like the house as much as we thought we did.'
'But you want to go on, too, don't you?' said Tuppence.
'Yes,' said Tommy. 'I'm embroiled all right.'
'Have you thought how to set about it?'
'Go on doing what I'm doing at present. What about you, Tuppence? Have you got any plans?'
'Not quite yet,' said Tuppence. 'I've got a few ideas. I can get a bit more out of - what did I say his name was?'
'First Henry - then Clarence.'
Chapter 9
JUNIOR BRIGADE
Having seen Tommy depart for London, Tuppence was wandering vaguely round the house trying to single out some particular activity which might yield successful results. However, her brain did not seem to be full of bright ideas this morning.
With the general feeling of one returning to the beginning, she climbed up to the book-room and walked round it vaguely, looking at the titles of various volumes. Children's books, lots of children's books, but really one couldn't go any farther than that, could one? She had gone as far as anyone could already. By now she was almost certain that she had looked at every single book in this particular room; Alexander Parkinson had not revealed any more of his secrets.
She was standing there running her fingers through her hair, frowning and kicking at a bottom shelf of theological works whose bindings were nearly all of them scaling away from the books, when Albert came up.
'Someone as wants to see you downstairs, madam.'
'What do you mean by someone?' said Tuppence. 'Anyone I know?'
'I dunno. Shouldn't think so. Boys they are, mainly. Boys and a girl or two all in a hump. Spect they want a subscription for something or other.'
'Oh. They didn't give any names or say anything?'
'Oh, one of them did. Said he was Clarence and you'd know all about him.'
'Oh,' said Tuppence. 'Clarence.' She considered for a moment.
Was this the fruit from yesterday? Anyway, it could do no harm to follow it up.
'Is the other boy here too? The one I was talking to yesterday in the garden?'
'Don't know. They all look much alike. Dirty, you know, and all the rest of it.'
'Oh well,' said Tuppence, 'I'll come down.'
When she had reached the ground floor she turned enquiringly to her guide.
Albert said, 'Oh, I didn't let them come into the house. Wouldn't be safe, I think. Never know what you might lose, these days. They're out in the garden. They said to tell you they was by the gold-mine.'
'They was by the what?' asked Tuppence.
'The gold-mine.'
'Oh,' said Tuppence.
'What way would that be?'
Tuppence pointed.
'Past the rose garden, and then right by the dahlia walk. I think I know. There's a sort of water thing there. I don't know if it's a brook or a canal or has once been a pond that has had goldfish in it. Anyway, give me my gumboots and I'd better take my mackintosh as well in case someone pushes me into it.'
'I should put it on if I was you, ma'am, it's going to rain presently.'
'Oh dear,' said Tuppence. 'Rain, rain. Always rain.'
She went out and came fairly quickly to what seemed to be a considerable deputation waiting for her. There were, she thought, about ten or twelve of assorted ages, mainly boys flanked by two long-haired girls, all looking rather excited. One of them said in a shrill voice as Tuppence approached:
'Here she comes! Here she is. Now then, who's going to speak? Go on, George, you'd better talk. You're the one as always talks.'
'Well, you're not going to now. I'm going to talk,' said Clarence.
'You shut up, Clarrie. You know your voice is weak. It makes you cough if you talk.'
'Now look here, this is my show. I -'
'Good morning, all,' said Tuppence, breaking in. 'You've come to see me about something, have you? What is it?'
'Got something for you, we have,' said Clarence. 'Information. That's what you're after, isn't it?'
'It depends,' said Tuppence. 'What kind of information?'
'Oh, not information about nowadays. All long ago.'
'Historical information,' said one of the girls, who appeared to be the intellectual chief of the group. 'Most interesting if you're doing research into the past.'
'I see,' said Tuppence, concealing the fact that she did not see. 'What's this place here?'
'It's a gold-mine.'
'Oh,' said Tuppence. 'Any gold in it?'
She looked about her.
'Well, really, it's a goldfish pool,' explained one of the boys. 'Used to be goldfish in it once, you know. Special ones with lots of tails, from Japan or somewhere. Oh, wonderful it used to be. That was in old Mrs Forrester's time. That's - oh, that's ten years ago.'
'Twenty-four years ago,' said one of the girls.
'Sixty years ago,' said a very small voice, 'every bit of sixty years ago. Lots of goldfish there were. Ever so many. Said to be very valuable, they was. They used to die sometimes. Sometimes they ate each other, sometimes they were just lying on top, floating about, you know.'
'Well,' said Tuppence, 'what do you want to tell me about them? There are no goldfish to see here now.'
'No. It's information,' said the intellectual girl.
A large outbreak of voices occurred. Tuppence waved her hand.
'Not all at once,' she said. 'One or two speak at a time. What's all this about?'
'Something perhaps you ought to know about where things was hidden once. Hidden once and said to be very important.'
'And how do you know about them?' said Tuppence.
This provoked a chorus of replies. It was not very easy to hear everyone at once.
'It was Janie.'
'It was Janie's Uncle Ben,' said one voice.
'No, it wasn't. It was Harry, it was... Yes, it was Harry. Harry's cousin Tom... Much younger than that. It was his grandmother told him and his grandmother had been told by Josh. Yes. I don't know who Josh was. I think Josh was her husband... No, he wasn't her husband, he was her uncle.'
'Oh dear,' said Tuppence.
She looked over the gesticulating crowd and picked out a choice.
'Clarence,' she said. 'You're Clarence, aren't you? Your friend told me about you. Yes, well what do you know and what's it all about?'
'Well, if you want to find out you've got to go to the PPC.'
'Go to the what?' said Tuppence.
'The PPC.'
'What's the PPC?'
'Don't you know? Hasn't anyone told you? PPC is the Pensioners' Palace Club.'
'Oh dear,' said Tuppence, 'that sounds very grand.'
'It isn't grand at all,' said one boy of about nine. 'It isn't grand a bit. It's only old age pensioners saying things and getting together. Pack of lies, some people say they tell about things they knew. You know, knew in the last war and knew after it. Oh, all sorts of things they say.'
'Where is this PPC?' asked Tuppence.
'Oh, it's along at the end of the village. Halfway to Mort
on Cross, it is. If you're a pensioner you get a ticket for it and you go there and you have bingo and you have all sorts of things there. It's quite fun, it is. Oh, some of them are very old. Some of them are deaf and blind and everything else. But they all - well, they like getting together, you know.'