N or M_ - Agatha Christie [41]
Mrs Sprot had run upstairs again, presumably to her room to get a coat. But when she got into the car and they had started down the hill she disclosed to Tuppence something in her handbag. It was a small pistol.
She said quietly:
‘I got it from Major Bletchley’s room. I remembered his mentioning one day that he had one.’
Tuppence looked a little dubious.
‘You don’t think that–?’
Mrs Sprot said, her mouth a thin line:
‘It may come in useful.’
Tuppence sat marvelling at the strange forces maternity will set loose in an ordinary commonplace young woman. She could visualise Mrs Sprot, the kind of woman who would normally declare herself frightened to death of fire-arms, coolly shooting down any person who had harmed her child.
They drove first, on the Commander’s suggestion, to the railway station. A train had left Leahampton about twenty minutes earlier and it was possible that the fugitives had gone by it.
At the station they separated, the Commander taking the ticket collector, Tommy the booking office, and Bletchley the porters outside. Tuppence and Mrs Sprot went into the ladies’ room on the chance that the woman had gone in there to change her appearance before taking the train.
One and all drew a blank. It was now more difficult to shape a course. In all probability, as Haydock pointed out, the kidnappers had had a car waiting, and once Betty had been persuaded to come away with the woman, they had made their get-away in that. It was here, as Bletchley pointed out once more, that the co-operation of the police was so vital. It needed an organisation of that kind who could send out messages all over the country, covering the different roads.
Mrs Sprot merely shook her head, her lips pressed tightly together.
Tuppence said:
‘We must put ourselves in their places. Where would they have waited in the car? Somewhere as near Sans Souci as possible, but where a car wouldn’t be noticed. Now let’s think. The woman and Betty walk down the hill together. At the bottom is the esplanade. The car might have been drawn up there. So long as you don’t leave it unattended you can stop there for quite a while. The only other places are the car park in James’s Square, also quite near, or else one of the small streets that lead off from the esplanade.’
It was at that moment that a small man, with a diffident manner and pince nez, stepped up to them and said, stammering a little:
‘Excuse me…No offence, I hope…but I c-ccouldn’t help overhearing what you were asking the porter just now’ (he now directed his remarks to Major Bletchley). ‘I was not listening, of course, just come down to see about a parcel–extraordinary how long things are delayed just now–movements of troops, they say–but really most difficult when it’s perishable–the parcel, I mean–and so, you see, I happened to overhear–and really it did seem the most wonderful coincidence…’
Mrs Sprot sprang forward. She seized him by the arm.
‘You’ve seen her? You’ve seen my little girl?’
‘Oh really, your little girl, you say? Now fancy that–’
Mrs Sprot cried: ‘Tell me.’ And her fingers bit into the little man’s arm so that he winced.
Tuppence said quickly:
‘Please tell us anything you have seen as quickly as you can. We shall be most grateful if you would.’
‘Oh, well, really, of course, it may be nothing at all. But the description fitted so well–’
Tuppence felt the woman beside her trembling, but she herself strove to keep her manner calm and unhurried. She knew the type with which they were dealing–fussy, muddle-headed, diffident, incapable of going straight to the point and worse if hurried. She said:
‘Please tell us.’
‘It was only–my name is Robbins, by the way, Edward Robbins–’
‘Yes, Mr Robbins?’
‘I live at Whiteways in Ernes Cliff Road, one of those new houses on the new road–most labour-saving, and really every convenience, and a beautiful view and the downs only a stone’s