The Secret Adversary

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by Agatha Christie


  CHAPTER XVI. FURTHER ADVENTURES OF TOMMY

  FROM a darkness punctuated with throbbing stabs of fire, Tommy draggedhis senses slowly back to life. When he at last opened his eyes, he wasconscious of nothing but an excruciating pain through his temples. Hewas vaguely aware of unfamiliar surroundings. Where was he? What hadhappened? He blinked feebly. This was not his bedroom at the _Ritz_. Andwhat the devil was the matter with his head?

  “Damn!” said Tommy, and tried to sit up. He had remembered. He was inthat sinister house in Soho. He uttered a groan and fell back. Throughhis almost-closed lids he reconnoitred carefully.

  “He is coming to,” remarked a voice very near Tommy’s ear. He recognizedit at once for that of the bearded and efficient German, and layartistically inert. He felt that it would be a pity to come round toosoon; and until the pain in his head became a little less acute, he feltquite incapable of collecting his wits. Painfully he tried to puzzle outwhat had happened. Obviously somebody must have crept up behind him ashe listened and struck him down with a blow on the head. They knewhim now for a spy, and would in all probability give him short shrift.Undoubtedly he was in a tight place. Nobody knew where he was, thereforehe need expect no outside assistance, and must depend solely on his ownwits.

  “Well, here goes,” murmured Tommy to himself, and repeated his formerremark.

  “Damn!” he observed, and this time succeeded in sitting up.

  In a minute the German stepped forward and placed a glass to his lips,with the brief command “Drink.” Tommy obeyed. The potency of the draughtmade him choke, but it cleared his brain in a marvellous manner.

  He was lying on a couch in the room in which the meeting had been held.On one side of him was the German, on the other the villainous-faceddoorkeeper who had let him in. The others were grouped together at alittle distance away. But Tommy missed one face. The man known as NumberOne was no longer of the company.

  “Feel better?” asked the German, as he removed the empty glass.

  “Yes, thanks,” returned Tommy cheerfully.

  “Ah, my young friend, it is lucky for you your skull is so thick. Thegood Conrad struck hard.” He indicated the evil-faced doorkeeper by anod. The man grinned.

  Tommy twisted his head round with an effort.

  “Oh,” he said, “so you’re Conrad, are you? It strikes me the thicknessof my skull was lucky for you too. When I look at you I feel it’s almosta pity I’ve enabled you to cheat the hangman.”

  The man snarled, and the bearded man said quietly:

  “He would have run no risk of that.”

  “Just as you like,” replied Tommy. “I know it’s the fashion to run downthe police. I rather believe in them myself.”

  His manner was nonchalant to the last degree. Tommy Beresford was oneof those young Englishmen not distinguished by any special intellectualability, but who are emphatically at their best in what is known as a“tight place.” Their natural diffidence and caution fall from them likea glove. Tommy realized perfectly that in his own wits lay the onlychance of escape, and behind his casual manner he was racking his brainsfuriously.

  The cold accents of the German took up the conversation:

  “Have you anything to say before you are put to death as a spy?”

  “Simply lots of things,” replied Tommy with the same urbanity as before.

  “Do you deny that you were listening at that door?”

  “I do not. I must really apologize--but your conversation was sointeresting that it overcame my scruples.”

  “How did you get in?”

  “Dear old Conrad here.” Tommy smiled deprecatingly at him. “I hesitateto suggest pensioning off a faithful servant, but you really ought tohave a better watchdog.”

  Conrad snarled impotently, and said sullenly, as the man with the beardswung round upon him:

  “He gave the word. How was I to know?”

  “Yes,” Tommy chimed in. “How was he to know? Don’t blame the poorfellow. His hasty action has given me the pleasure of seeing you allface to face.”

  He fancied that his words caused some discomposure among the group, butthe watchful German stilled it with a wave of his hand.

  “Dead men tell no tales,” he said evenly.

  “Ah,” said Tommy, “but I’m not dead yet!”

  “You soon will be, my young friend,” said the German.

  An assenting murmur came from the others.

  Tommy’s heart beat faster, but his casual pleasantness did not waver.

  “I think not,” he said firmly. “I should have a great objection todying.”

  He had got them puzzled, he saw that by the look on his captor’s face.

  “Can you give us any reason why we should not put you to death?” askedthe German.

  “Several,” replied Tommy. “Look here, you’ve been asking me a lot ofquestions. Let me ask you one for a change. Why didn’t you kill me offat once before I regained consciousness?”

  The German hesitated, and Tommy seized his advantage.

  “Because you didn’t know how much I knew--and where I obtained thatknowledge. If you kill me now, you never will know.”

  But here the emotions of Boris became too much for him. He steppedforward waving his arms.

  “You hell-hound of a spy,” he screamed. “We will give you short shrift.Kill him! Kill him!”

  There was a roar of applause.

  “You hear?” said the German, his eyes on Tommy. “What have you to say tothat?”

  “Say?” Tommy shrugged his shoulders. “Pack of fools. Let them askthemselves a few questions. How did I get into this place? Remember whatdear old Conrad said-- _with your own password_, wasn’t it? How did Iget hold of that? You don’t suppose I came up those steps haphazard andsaid the first thing that came into my head?”

  Tommy was pleased with the concluding words of this speech. His onlyregret was that Tuppence was not present to appreciate its full flavour.

  “That is true,” said the working man suddenly. “Comrades, we have beenbetrayed!”

  An ugly murmur arose. Tommy smiled at them encouragingly.

  “That’s better. How can you hope to make a success of any job if youdon’t use your brains?”

  “You will tell us who has betrayed us,” said the German. “But that shallnot save you--oh, no! You shall tell us all that you know. Boris, here,knows pretty ways of making people speak!”

  “Bah!” said Tommy scornfully, fighting down a singularly unpleasantfeeling in the pit of his stomach. “You will neither torture me nor killme.”

  “And why not?” asked Boris.

  “Because you’d kill the goose that lays the golden eggs,” replied Tommyquietly.

  There was a momentary pause. It seemed as though Tommy’s persistentassurance was at last conquering. They were no longer completely sure ofthemselves. The man in the shabby clothes stared at Tommy searchingly.

  “He’s bluffing you, Boris,” he said quietly.

  Tommy hated him. Had the man seen through him?

  The German, with an effort, turned roughly to Tommy.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you think I mean?” parried Tommy, searching desperately in hisown mind.

  Suddenly Boris stepped forward, and shook his fist in Tommy’s face.

  “Speak, you swine of an Englishman--speak!”

  “Don’t get so excited, my good fellow,” said Tommy calmly. “That’s theworst of you foreigners. You can’t keep calm. Now, I ask you, do I lookas though I thought there were the least chance of your killing me?”

  He looked confidently round, and was glad they could not hear thepersistent beating of his heart which gave the lie to his words.

  “No,” admitted Boris at last sullenly, “you do not.”

  “Thank God, he’s not a mind reader,” thought Tommy. Aloud he pursued hisadvantage:

  “And why am I so confident? Because I know something that puts me in aposition to propose a bargain.”

>   “A bargain?” The bearded man took him up sharply.

  “Yes--a bargain. My life and liberty against----” He paused.

  “Against what?”

  The group pressed forward. You could have heard a pin drop.

  Slowly Tommy spoke.

  “The papers that Danvers brought over from America in the _Lusitania_.”

  The effect of his words was electrical. Every one was on his feet.The German waved them back. He leaned over Tommy, his face purple withexcitement.

  “_Himmel!_ You have got them, then?”

  With magnificent calm Tommy shook his head.

  “You know where they are?” persisted the German.

  Again Tommy shook his head. “Not in the least.”

  “Then--then----” angry and baffled, the words failed him.

  Tommy looked round. He saw anger and bewilderment on every face, but hiscalm assurance had done its work--no one doubted but that something laybehind his words.

  “I don’t know where the papers are--but I believe that I can find them.I have a theory----”

  “Pah!”

  Tommy raised his hand, and silenced the clamours of disgust.

  “I call it a theory--but I’m pretty sure of my facts--facts that areknown to no one but myself. In any case what do you lose? If I canproduce the papers--you give me my life and liberty in exchange. Is it abargain?”

  “And if we refuse?” said the German quietly.

  Tommy lay back on the couch.

  “The 29th,” he said thoughtfully, “is less than a fortnight ahead----”

  For a moment the German hesitated. Then he made a sign to Conrad.

  “Take him into the other room.”

  For five minutes, Tommy sat on the bed in the dingy room next door. Hisheart was beating violently. He had risked all on this throw. How wouldthey decide? And all the while that this agonized questioning went onwithin him, he talked flippantly to Conrad, enraging the cross-graineddoorkeeper to the point of homicidal mania.

  At last the door opened, and the German called imperiously to Conrad toreturn.

  “Let’s hope the judge hasn’t put his black cap on,” remarked Tommyfrivolously. “That’s right, Conrad, march me in. The prisoner is at thebar, gentlemen.”

  The German was seated once more behind the table. He motioned to Tommyto sit down opposite to him.

  “We accept,” he said harshly, “on terms. The papers must be delivered tous before you go free.”

  “Idiot!” said Tommy amiably. “How do you think I can look for them ifyou keep me tied by the leg here?”

  “What do you expect, then?”

  “I must have liberty to go about the business in my own way.”

  The German laughed.

  “Do you think we are little children to let you walk out of here leavingus a pretty story full of promises?”

  “No,” said Tommy thoughtfully. “Though infinitely simpler for me, Idid not really think you would agree to that plan. Very well, we mustarrange a compromise. How would it be if you attached little Conrad hereto my person. He’s a faithful fellow, and very ready with the fist.”

  “We prefer,” said the German coldly, “that you should remain here.One of our number will carry out your instructions minutely. If theoperations are complicated, he will return to you with a report and youcan instruct him further.”

  “You’re tying my hands,” complained Tommy. “It’s a very delicate affair,and the other fellow will muff it up as likely as not, and then whereshall I be? I don’t believe one of you has got an ounce of tact.”

  The German rapped the table.

  “Those are our terms. Otherwise, death!”

  Tommy leaned back wearily.

  “I like your style. Curt, but attractive. So be it, then. But one thingis essential, I must see the girl.”

  “What girl?”

  “Jane Finn, of course.”

  The other looked at him curiously for some minutes, then he said slowly,and as though choosing his words with care:

  “Do you not know that she can tell you nothing?”

  Tommy’s heart beat a little faster. Would he succeed in coming face toface with the girl he was seeking?

  “I shall not ask her to tell me anything,” he said quietly. “Not in somany words, that is.”

  “Then why see her?”

  Tommy paused.

  “To watch her face when I ask her one question,” he replied at last.

  Again there was a look in the German’s eyes that Tommy did not quiteunderstand.

  “She will not be able to answer your question.”

  “That does not matter. I shall have seen her face when I ask it.”

  “And you think that will tell you anything?” He gave a shortdisagreeable laugh. More than ever, Tommy felt that there was afactor somewhere that he did not understand. The German looked athim searchingly. “I wonder whether, after all, you know as much as wethink?” he said softly.

  Tommy felt his ascendancy less sure than a moment before. His hold hadslipped a little. But he was puzzled. What had he said wrong? He spokeout on the impulse of the moment.

  “There may be things that you know which I do not. I have not pretendedto be aware of all the details of your show. But equally I’ve gotsomething up my sleeve that _you_ don’t know about. And that’s where Imean to score. Danvers was a damned clever fellow----” He broke off asif he had said too much.

  But the German’s face had lightened a little.

  “Danvers,” he murmured. “I see----” He paused a minute, then waved toConrad. “Take him away. Upstairs--you know.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Tommy. “What about the girl?”

  “That may perhaps be arranged.”

  “It must be.”

  “We will see about it. Only one person can decide that.”

  “Who?” asked Tommy. But he knew the answer.

  “Mr. Brown----”

  “Shall I see him?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Come,” said Conrad harshly.

  Tommy rose obediently. Outside the door his gaoler motioned to him tomount the stairs. He himself followed close behind. On the floor aboveConrad opened a door and Tommy passed into a small room. Conrad lit ahissing gas burner and went out. Tommy heard the sound of the key beingturned in the lock.

  He set to work to examine his prison. It was a smaller room than theone downstairs, and there was something peculiarly airless about theatmosphere of it. Then he realized that there was no window. He walkedround it. The walls were filthily dirty, as everywhere else. Fourpictures hung crookedly on the wall representing scenes from Faust.Marguerite with her box of jewels, the church scene, Siebel and hisflowers, and Faust and Mephistopheles. The latter brought Tommy’s mindback to Mr. Brown again. In this sealed and closed chamber, with itsclose-fitting heavy door, he felt cut off from the world, and thesinister power of the arch-criminal seemed more real. Shout as he would,no one could ever hear him. The place was a living tomb....

  With an effort Tommy pulled himself together. He sank on to the bedand gave himself up to reflection. His head ached badly; also, he washungry. The silence of the place was dispiriting.

  “Anyway,” said Tommy, trying to cheer himself, “I shall see thechief--the mysterious Mr. Brown and with a bit of luck in bluffing Ishall see the mysterious Jane Finn also. After that----”

  After that Tommy was forced to admit the prospect looked dreary.

 

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