N or M_ - Agatha Christie [42]
Tuppence quelled Major Bletchley, who she saw was about to break out, with a glance, and said:
‘And you saw the little girl we are looking for?’
‘Yes, I really think it must be. A little girl with a foreign-looking woman, you said? It was really the woman I noticed. Because, of course, we are all on the look-out nowadays for Fifth Columnists, aren’t we? A sharp look-out, that is what they say, and I always try to do so, and so, as I say, I noticed this woman. A nurse, I thought, or a maid–a lot of spies came over here in that capacity, and this woman was most unusual looking and walking up the road and on to the downs–with a little girl–and the little girl seemed tired and rather lagging, and half-past seven, well, most children go to bed then, so I looked at the woman pretty sharply. I think it flustered her. She hurried up the road, pulling the child after her, and finally picked her up and went on up the path out on to the cliff, which I thought strange, you know, because there are no houses there at all–nothing–not until you get to Whitehaven–about five miles over the downs–a favourite walk for hikers. But in this case I thought it odd. I wondered if the woman was going to signal, perhaps. One hears of so much enemy activity, and she certainly looked uneasy when she saw me staring at her.’
Commander Haydock was back in the car and had started the engine. He said:
‘Ernes Cliff Road, you say. That’s right the other side of the town, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, you go along the esplanade and past the old town and then up–’
The others had jumped in, not listening further to Mr Robbins.
Tuppence called out:
‘Thank you, Mr Robbins,’ and they drove off, leaving him staring after them with his mouth open.
They drove rapidly through the town, avoiding accidents more by good luck than by skill. But the luck held. They came out at last at a mass of straggling building development, somewhat marred by proximity to the gas works. A series of little roads led up towards the downs, stopping abruptly a short way up the hill. Ernes Cliff Road was the third of these.
Commander Haydock turned smartly into it and drove up. At the end the road petered out on to bare hillside, up which a footpath meandered upwards.
‘Better get out and walk here,’ said Bletchley.
Haydock said dubiously:
‘Could almost take the carup. Ground’s firm enough. Bit bumpy but I think she could do it.’
Mrs Sprot cried:
‘Oh yes, please, please…We must be quick.’
The Commander murmured to himself:
‘Hope to goodness we’re after the right lot. That little pipsqueak may have seen any woman with a kid.’
The car groaned uneasily as it ploughed its way up over the rough ground. The gradient was severe, but the turf was short and springy. They came out without mishap on the top of the rise. Here the view was uninterrupted till it rested in the distance on the curve of Whitehaven Bay.
Bletchley said:
‘Not a bad idea. The woman could spend the night up here if need be, drop down into Whitehaven tomorrow morning and take a train there.’
Haydock said:
‘No sign of them as far as I can see.’
He was standing up holding some field glasses that he had thoughtfully brought with him to his eyes. Suddenly his figure became tense as he focused the glasses on two small moving dots.
‘Got ’em, by Jove…’
He dropped into the driver’s seat again and the car bucketed forward. The chase was a short one now. Shot up in the air, tossed from side to side, the occupants of the car gained rapidly on those two small dots. They could be distinguished now–a tall figure and a short one–nearer still, a woman holding a child by the hand–still nearer, yes, a child in a green gingham frock. Betty.
Mrs Sprot gave a strangled cry.
‘All right now, my dear,’ said Major Bletchley, patting her kindly. ‘We’ve got ’em.’
They went on. Suddenly the woman turned and saw the car advancing towards her.
With a cry she caught up the child in her arms and began running.
She ran, not forwards, but sideways towards the edge of the cliff.
The car, after a few yards, could not follow; the ground