The Complete Tommy and Tuppence

by Agatha Christie

  ‘What do you mean, Tuppence?’

  ‘Grin hen Lo. We’ve been reading it the wrong way round. It’s meant to be read the other way round.’

  ‘What do you mean? Ol, then n-e-h–it doesn’t make sense. You couldn’t go on n-i-r-g. Nirg or some word like that.’

  ‘No. Just take the three words. A little bit, you know, like what Alexander did in the book–the first book that we looked at. Read those three words the other way round. Lo-hen-grin.’

  Tommy scowled.

  ‘Still haven’t got it?’ said Tuppence. ‘Lohengrin, of course. The swan. The opera. You know, Lohengrin, Wagner.’

  ‘Well, there’s nothing to do with a swan.’

  ‘Yes, there is. Those two pieces of china we found. Stools for the garden. You remember? One was a dark blue and one was a light blue, and old Isaac said to us, at least I think it was Isaac, he said, “That’s Oxford, you see, and that’s Cambridge.”’

  ‘Well, we smashed the Oxford one, didn’t we?’

  ‘Yes. But the Cambridge one is still there. The light blue one. Don’t you see? Lohengrin. Something was hidden in one of those two swans. Tommy, the next thing we have to do is to go and look at the Cambridge one. The light blue one, it’s still in KK. Shall we go now?’

  ‘What–at eleven o’clock at night–no.’

  ‘We’ll go tomorrow. You haven’t got to go to London tomorrow?’ ‘No.’ ‘Well, we’ll go tomorrow and we’ll see.’

  III

  ‘I don’t know what you’re doing about the garden,’ said Albert. ‘I did a spell once in a garden for a short time, but I’m not up in vegetables very much. There’s a boy here that wants to see you, by the way, madam.’

  ‘Oh, a boy,’ said Tuppence. ‘Do you mean the red-haired one?’

  ‘No. I mean the other one, the one with a lot of messy yellow hair half down his back. Got rather a silly name. Like a hotel. You know, the Royal Clarence. That’s his name. Clarence.’

  ‘Clarence, but not Royal Clarence.’

  ‘Not likely,’ said Albert. ‘He’s waiting in the front door. He says, madam, as he might be able to assist you in some way.’

  ‘I see. I gather he used to assist old Isaac occasionally.’

  She found Clarence sitting on a decayed basket chair on the veranda or loggia, whichever you liked to call it. He appeared to be making a late breakfast off potato crisps and held a bar of chocolate in his left hand.

  ‘Morning, missus,’ said Clarence. ‘Come to see if I could be any help.’

  ‘Well,’ said Tuppence, ‘of course we do want help in the garden. I believe you used to help Isaac at one time.’

  ‘Ah well, now and again I did. Not that I know very much. Don’t say that Isaac knew much neither. Lot of talk with him, lot of talking saying what a wonderful time he used to have. What a wonderful time it was for the people who employed him. Yes, he used to say he was the head gardener to Mr Bolingo. You know, as lives farther along the river. Great big house. Yes, it’s turned into a school now. Head gardener there, he said he used to be. But my grandmother says there isn’t a word of truth in that.’

  ‘Well, never mind,’ said Tuppence. ‘Actually, I wanted to turn a few more things out of that little greenhouse place.’

  ‘What d’you mean the shed, the glass shed? KK, isn’t it?’

  ‘Quite right,’ said Tuppence. ‘Fancy your knowing the proper name of it.’

  ‘Oh well, it was always used to be called that. Everybody says so. They say it’s Japanese. I don’t know if that’s true.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Tuppence. ‘Let’s go there.’

  A procession formed consisting of Tommy, Tuppence, Hannibal, the dog, with Albert abandoning the washing up of breakfast for something more interesting bringing up the rear. Hannibal displayed a great deal of pleasure after attending to all the useful smells in the neighbourhood. He rejoined them at the door of KK and sniffed in an interested manner.

  ‘Hullo, Hannibal,’ said Tuppence, ‘are you going to help us? You tell us something.’

  ‘What kind of a dog is he?’ asked Clarence. ‘Somebody said as he is the kind of dog they used to keep for rats. Is that so?’

  ‘Yes, that’s quite true,’ said Tommy. ‘He’s a Manchester Terrier, an old English Black and Tan.’

  Hannibal, knowing he was being talked about, turned his head, waggled his body, beat his tail with a good deal of exuberance. He then sat down and looked proud of himself.

  ‘He bites, doesn’t he?’ said Clarence. ‘Everyone says so.’

  ‘He’s a very good guard dog,’ said Tuppence. ‘He looks after me.’

  ‘That’s quite right. When I’m away he looks after you,’ said Tommy.

  ‘The postman said he nearly got bitten four days age.’

  ‘Dogs are rather like that with postmen,’ said Tuppence. ‘Do you know where the key of KK is?’

  ‘I do,’ said Clarence. ‘Hanging up in the shed. You know, the shed where the flower-pots are.’

  He went off and returned shortly with the once rusty but now more or less oiled key.

  ‘Been oiling this key, Isaac must have,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, it wouldn’t turn very easily before,’ said Tuppence.

  The door was opened.

  The Cambridge china stool with the swan wreathed round it was looking rather handsome. Obviously Isaac had polished it up and washed it, with the idea of transferring it to the veranda when the weather was suitable for sitting out.

  ‘Ought to be a dark blue one too,’ said Clarence. ‘Isaac used to say Oxford and Cambridge.’

  ‘Is that true?’

  ‘Yes. Dark blue Oxford and pale blue Cambridge. Oh, and Oxford was the one that smashed, was it?’

  ‘Yes. Rather like the boat race, isn’t it?’

  ‘By the way, something’s happened to that rocking-horse, hasn’t it? There’s a lot of mess about in KK.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Funny name like Matilda, hasn’t she?’

  ‘Yes. She had to have an operation,’ said Tuppence.

  Clarence seemed to think this very amusing. He laughed heartily.

  ‘My Great-Aunt Edith had to have an operation,’ he said. ‘Took out part of her inside but she got well.’

  He sounded slightly disappointed.

  ‘I suppose there’s no real way of getting inside these things,’ said Tuppence.

  ‘Well, I suppose you can smash them like the dark blue one was smashed.’

  ‘Yes. There’s no other way, is there? Funny those sort of S-kind of slits around the top. Why, you could post things in there, couldn’t you, like a post box.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tommy, ‘one could. It’s an interesting idea. Very interesting, Clarence,’ he said kindly.

  Clarence looked pleased.

  ‘You can unscrew ’em, you know,’ he said.

  ‘Unscrew them, can you?’ said Tuppence. ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Isaac. I’ve seen ’im do it often. You turn them upside down and then you begin to swing the top round. It’s stiff sometimes. You pour a little oil round all the cracks and when it’s soaked in a bit you can turn it round.’ ‘Oh.’

  ‘The easiest way is to put it upside down.’

  ‘Everything here always seems to have to be turned upside down,’ said Tuppence. ‘We had to do that to Mathilde before we could operate.’

  For the moment Cambridge seemed to be entirely obstreperous, when quite suddenly the china began to revolve and very shortly afterwards they managed to unscrew it completely and lift it off.

  ‘Lot of rubbish in here, I should think,’ said Clarence.

  Hannibal came to assist. He was a dog who liked helping in anything that was going on. Nothing, he thought, was complete unless he took a hand or a paw in it. But with him it was usually a nose in the investigation. He stuck his nose down, growled gently, retired an inch or two and sat down.

  ‘Doesn’t like it much, does he?’ said Tuppence, and looked do
wn into the somewhat unpleasant mass inside.

  ‘Ow!’ said Clarence.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Scratched myself. There’s something hanging down from a nail on the side here. I don’t know if it’s a nail or what it is. It’s something. Ow!’

  ‘Wuff, wuff!’ said Hannibal, joining in.

  ‘There’s something hung on a nail just inside. Yes, I’ve got it. No, it’s slipping. Yes, here I am. I’ve got it.’

  Clarence lifted out a dark tarpaulin package.

  Hannibal came and sat at Tuppence’s feet. He growled.

  ‘What’s the matter, Hannibal?’ said Tuppence.

  Hannibal growled again. Tuppence bent down and smoothed the top of his head and ears.

  ‘What’s the matter, Hannibal?’ said Tuppence. ‘Did you want Oxford to win and now Cambridge have won, you see. Do you remember,’ said Tuppence to Tommy, ‘how we let him watch the boat race once on television?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tommy, ‘he got very angry towards the end and started barking so that we couldn’t hear anything at all.’

  ‘Well, we could still see things,’ said Tuppence, ‘that was something. But if you remember, he didn’t like Cambridge winning.’

  ‘Obviously,’ said Tommy, ‘he studied at the Oxford Dogs’ University.’

  Hannibal left Tuppence and came to Tommy and wagged his tail appreciatively.

  ‘He likes your saying that,’ said Tuppence, ‘it must be true. I myself,’ she added, ‘think he has been educated at the Dogs’ Open University.’

  ‘What were his principal studies there?’ asked Tommy, laughing.

  ‘Bone disposal.’

  ‘You know what he’s like.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ said Tuppence. ‘Very unwisely, you know, Albert gave him the whole bone of a leg of mutton once. First of all I found him in the drawing-room putting it under a cushion, then I forced him out through the garden door and shut it. And I looked out of the window and he went into the flower-bed where I’d got gladioli, and buried it very carefully there. He’s very tidy with his bones, you know. He never tries to eat them. He always puts them away for a rainy day.’

  ‘Does he ever dig them up again?’ asked Clarence, assisting on this point of dog lore.

  ‘I think so,’ said Tuppence. ‘Sometimes when they’re very, very old and would have been better if they had been left buried.’

  ‘Our dog doesn’t like dog biscuits,’ said Clarence.

  ‘He leaves them on the plate, I suppose,’ said Tuppence, ‘and eats the meat first.’

  ‘He likes sponge cake, though, our dog does,’ said Clarence.’

  Hannibal sniffed at the trophy just disinterred from the inside of Cambridge. He wheeled round suddenly then and barked.

  ‘See if there’s anyone outside,’ said Tuppence. ‘It might be a gardener. Somebody told me the other day, Mrs Herring, I think it was, that she knew of an elderly man who’d been a very good gardener in his time and who did jobbing.’

  Tommy opened the door and went outside. Hannibal accompanied him.

  ‘Nobody here,’ said Tommy.

  Hannibal barked. First he growled again, then he barked and barked more loudly.

  ‘He thinks there’s someone or something in that great clump of pampas grass,’ said Tommy. ‘Perhaps someone is un-burying one of his bones there. Perhaps there’s a rabbit there. Hannibal’s very stupid about rabbits. He needs an awful lot of encouragement before he’ll chase a rabbit. He seems to have a kindly feeling about them. He goes after pigeons and large birds. Fortunately he never catches them.’

  Hannibal was now sniffing round the pampas grass, first growling, after which he began to bark loudly. At intervals he turned his head towards Tommy.

  ‘I expect there’s a cat in there,’ said Tommy. ‘You know what he’s like when he thinks a cat is around. There’s the big black cat that comes round here and the little one. The one that we call the Kitty-cat.’

  ‘That’s the one that’s always getting into the house,’ said Tuppence. ‘It seems to get through the smallest chinks. Oh, do stop, Hannibal. Come back.’

  Hannibal heard and turned his head. He was expressing a very high degree of fierceness. He gave Tuppence a look, went back a little way, then turned his attention once more to the clump of pampas grass and began barking furiously.

  ‘There’s something worries him,’ said Tommy. ‘Come on, Hannibal.’

  Hannibal shook himself, shook his head, looked at Tommy, looked at Tuppence and made a prancing attack on the pampas grass, barking loudly.

  There was a sudden sound. Two sharp explosions.

  ‘Good Lord, somebody must be shooting rabbits,’ exclaimed Tuppence.

  ‘Get back. Get back inside KK, Tuppence,’ said Tommy.

  Something flew past his ear. Hannibal, now fully alerted, was racing round and round the pampas grass. Tommy ran after him.

  ‘He’s chasing someone now,’ he said. ‘He’s chasing someone down the hill. He’s running like mad.’

  ‘Who was it–what was it?’ said Tuppence.

  ‘You all right, Tuppence?’

  ‘No, I’m not quite all right,’ said Tuppence. ‘Something–something, I think, hit me here, just below the shoulder. Was it–what was it?’

  ‘It was someone shooting at us. Someone who was hidden inside that pampas grass.’

  ‘Someone who was watching what we were doing,’ said Tuppence. ‘Do you think that’s it, perhaps?’

  ‘I expect it’s them Irish,’ said Clarence hopefully. ‘The IRA. You know. They’ve been trying to blow this place up.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s of any political significance,’ said Tuppence.

  ‘Come into the house,’ said Tommy. ‘Come quickly. Come on, Clarence, you’d better come too.’

  ‘You don’t think your dog will bite me?’ said Clarence uncertainly.

  ‘No,’ said Tommy. ‘I think he is busy for the moment.’

  They had just turned the corner into the garden door when Hannibal reappeared suddenly. He came racing up the hill very out of breath. He spoke to Tommy in the way a dog does speak. He came up to him, shook himself, put a paw on Tommy’s trouser leg and tried to pull him in the direction from which he had just come.

  ‘He wants me to go with him after whoever the man was,’ said Tommy.

  ‘Well, you’re not to,’ said Tuppence. ‘If there’s anyone there with a rifle or a pistol or something that shoots, I’m not going to have you shot. Not at your age. Who would look after me if anything happened to you? Come on, let’s get indoors.’

  They went into the house quickly. Tommy went out into the hall and spoke on the telephone.

  ‘What are you doing?’ said Tuppence.

  ‘Telephoning the police,’ said Tommy. ‘Can’t let anything like this pass. They may get on to someone if we’re in time.’

  ‘I think,’ said Tuppence, ‘that I want something put on my shoulder. This blood is ruining my best jumper.’

  ‘Never mind your jumper,’ said Tommy.

  Albert appeared at that moment with a complete service of first aid.

  ‘Well I never,’ said Albert. ‘You mean some dirty guy has shot at the missus? Whatever’s happening next in this country?’

  ‘You don’t think you ought to go to the hospital, do you?’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ said Tuppence. ‘I’m quite all right but I want an outsize Band-Aid or something to stick on here. Put on something like friar’s balsam first.’

  ‘I’ve got some iodine.’

  ‘I don’t want iodine. It stings. Besides, they say now in hospitals that it isn’t the right thing to put on.’

  ‘I thought friar’s balsam was something you breathed in out of an inhaler,’ said Albert hopefully.

  ‘That’s one use,’ said Tuppence, ‘but it’s very good to put on slight scratches or scars or if children cut themselves or anything like that. Have you got the thing all right?’

  ‘Wha
t thing, what do you mean, Tuppence?’

  ‘The thing we just got out of the Cambridge Lohengrin. That’s what I mean. The thing that was hanging on a nail. Perhaps it’s something important, you know. They saw us. And so if they tried to kill us–and tried to get whatever it was–that really would be something!’

  Chapter 11

  Hannibal Takes Action

  Tommy sat with the police inspector in his office. The police officer, Inspector Norris, was nodding his head gently.

  ‘I hope with any luck we may get results, Mr Beresford,’ he said. ‘Dr Crossfield, you say, is attending to your wife.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tommy, ‘it isn’t serious, I gather. It was just grazing by a bullet and it bled a good deal, but she’s going to be all right, I think. There’s nothing really dangerous, Dr Crossfield said.’

  ‘She’s not very young, though, I suppose,’ said Inspector Norris.

  ‘She’s over seventy,’ said Tommy. ‘We’re both of us getting on, you know.’

  ‘Yes, yes. Quite so,’ said Inspector Norris. ‘I’ve heard a good deal about her locally, you know, since you came here to live. People have taken to her in a big way. We’ve heard about her various activities. And about yours.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ said Tommy.

  ‘Can’t live down your record, you know, whatever it is. Good or bad,’ said Inspector Norris in a kindly voice. ‘You can’t live down a record if you’re a criminal and you can’t live down your record if you’ve been a hero either. Of one thing I can assure you. We’ll do all we can to clear things up. You can’t describe whoever it was, I suppose?’

  ‘No,’ said Tommy. ‘When I saw him he was running with our dog after him. I should say he was not very old. He ran easily, I mean.’

  ‘Difficult age round about fourteen, fifteen onwards.’

  ‘It was someone older than that,’ said Tommy.

  ‘Not had any telephone calls or letters, demands for money or anything like that?’ said the Inspector. ‘Asking you to get out of your house, maybe?’

  ‘No,’ said Tommy, ‘nothing like that.’

  ‘And you’ve been here–how long?’

  Tommy told him.

  ‘Hmmm. Not very long. You go to London, I gather, most days of the week.’