N or M_ - Agatha Christie [33]
‘I think it had better be me. If I’m caught I could always say I was looking for aspirin or something. One of the gentlemen boarders in Mrs Perenna’s room would cause far more speculation.’
Tommy grinned.
‘Of a scandalous character.’
Then the smile died. He looked grave and anxious.
‘As soon as we can, old thing. The news is bad today. We must get on to something soon.’
V
Tommy continued his walk and presently entered the post office, where he put through a call to Mr Grant, and reported ‘the recent operation was successful and our friend C is definitely involved’.
Then he wrote a letter and posted it. It was addressed to Mr Albert Batt, The Duck and Dog, Glamorgan St, Kennington.
Then he bought himself a weekly paper which professed to inform the English world of what was really going to happen and strolled innocently back in the direction of Sans Souci.
Presently he was hailed by the hearty voice of Commander Haydock leaning from his two-seater car and shouting, ‘Hallo, Meadowes, want a lift?’
Tommy accepted a lift gratefully and got in.
‘So you read that rag, do you?’ demanded Haydock, glancing at the scarlet cover of the Inside Weekly News.
Mr Meadowes displayed the slight confusion of all readers of the periodical in question when challenged.
‘Awful rag,’ he agreed. ‘But sometimes, you know, they really do seem to know what’s going on behind the scenes.’
‘And sometimes they’re wrong.’
‘Oh, quite so.’
‘Truth of it is,’ said Commander Haydock, steering rather erratically round a one-way island and narrowly missing collision with a large van, ‘when the beggars are right, one remembers it, and when they’re wrong you forget it.’
‘Do you think there’s any truth in this rumour about Stalin having approached us?’
‘Wishful thinking, my boy, wishful thinking,’ said Commander Haydock. ‘The Russkys are as crooked as hell and always have been. Don’t trust ’em, that’s what I say. Hear you’ve been under the weather?’
‘Just a touch of hay fever. I get it about this time of year.’
‘Yes, of course. Never suffered from it myself, but I had a pal who did. Used to lay him out regularly every June. Feeling fit enough for a game of golf?’
Tommy said he’d like it very much.
‘Right. What about tomorrow? Tell you what, I’ve got to go to a meeting about this Parashot business, raising a corps of local volunteers–jolly good idea if you ask me. Time we were all made to pull our weight. So shall we have a round about six?’
‘Thanks very much. I’d like to.’
‘Good. Then that’s settled.’
The Commander drew up abruptly at the gate of Sans Souci.
‘How’s the fair Sheila?’ he asked.
‘Quite well, I think. I haven’t seen much of her.’
Haydock gave his loud barking laugh.
‘Not as much as you’d like to, I bet! Good-looking girl that, but damned rude. She sees too much of that German fellow. Damned unpatriotic, I call it. Dare say she’s got no use for old fogies like you and me, but there are plenty of nice lads going about in our own Services. Why take up with a bloody German? That sort of thing riles me.’
Mr Meadowes said:
‘Be careful, he’s just coming up the hill behind us.’
‘Don’t care if he does hear! Rather hope he does. I’d like to kick Master Carl’s behind for him. Any decent German’s fighting for his country–not slinking over here to get out of it!’
‘Well,’ said Tommy, ‘it’s one less German to invade England at all events.’
‘You mean he’s here already? Ha ha! Rather good, Meadowes! Not that I believe this tommy rot about invasion. We never have been invaded and never will be. We’ve got a Navy, thank God!’
With which patriotic announcement the Commander let in his clutch with a jerk and the car leaped forward up the hill to Smugglers’ Rest.
VI
Tuppence arrived at the gates of Sans Souci at twenty minutes to two. She turned off from the drive and went through the garden and into the house through the open drawing-room window. A smell of Irish stew and the clatter of plates and murmur of voices came from afar. Sans Souci was hard at work on its midday meal.
Tuppence waited by