N or M_ - Agatha Christie [58]
‘Oh, rather,’ said Tony Marsdon heartily. ‘I quite agree.’
It was on the following day that Deborah, returning to her digs, was puzzled by something unfamiliar in the appearance of her room.
It took her a few minutes to fathom what it was. Then she rang the bell and demanded angrily of her landlady what had happened to the big photograph that always stood on the top of the chest of drawers.
Mrs Rowley was aggrieved and resentful.
She couldn’t say, she was sure. She hadn’t touched it herself. Maybe Gladys–
But Gladys also denied having removed it. The man had been about the gas, she said hopefully.
But Deborah declined to believe that an employee of the Gas Co. would have taken a fancy to and removed the portrait of a middle-aged lady.
Far more likely, in Deborah’s opinion, that Gladys had smashed the photograph frame and had hastily removed all traces of the crime to the dustbin.
Deborah didn’t make a fuss about it. Sometime or other she’d get her mother to send her another photo.
She thought to herself with rising vexation:
‘What’s the old darling up to? She might tell me. Of course, it’s absolute nonsense to suggest, as Tony did, that she’s gone off with someone, but all the same it’s very queer…’
Chapter 11
It was Tuppence’s turn to talk to the fisherman on the end of the pier.
She had hoped against hope that Mr Grant might have had some comfort for her. But her hopes were soon dashed. He stated definitely that no news of any kind had come from Tommy.
Tuppence said, trying her best to make her voice assured and business-like:
‘There’s no reason to suppose that anything has–happened to him?’
‘None whatever. But let’s suppose it has.’
‘What?’
‘I’m saying–supposing it has. What about you?’
‘Oh, I see–I–carry on, of course.’
‘That’s the stuff. There is time to weep after the battle. We’re in the thick of the battle now. And time is short. One piece of information you brought us has been proved correct. You overheard a reference to the fourth. The fourth referred to is the fourth of next month. It’s the date fixed for the big attack on this country.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Fairly sure. They’re methodical people, our enemies. All their plans neatly made and worked out. Wish we could say the same of ourselves. Planning isn’t our strong point. Yes, the fourth is The Day. All these raids aren’t the real thing–they’re mostly reconnaissance–testing our defences and our reflexes to air attack. On the fourth comes the real thing.’
‘But if you know that–’
‘We know The Day is fixed. We know, or think we know, roughly, where…(But we may be wrong there.) We’re as ready as we can be. But it’s the old story of the siege of Troy. They knew, as we know, all about the forces without. It’s the forces within we want to know about. The men in the Wooden Horse! For they are the men who can deliver up the keys of the fortress. A dozen men in high places, in command, in vital spots, by issuing conflicting orders, can throw the country into just that state of confusion necessary for the German plan to succeed. We’ve got to have inside information in time.’
Tuppence said despairingly:
‘I feel so futile–so inexperienced.’
‘Oh, you needn’t worry about that. We’ve got experienced people working, all the experience and talent we’ve got–but when there’s treachery within we can’t tell who to trust. You and Beresford are the irregular forces. Nobody knows about you. That’s why you’ve got a chance to succeed–that’s why you have succeeded up to a certain point.’
‘Can’t you put some of your people on to Mrs Perenna? There must be some of them you can trust absolutely?’
‘Oh, we’ve done that. Working from “information received that Mrs Perenna is a member of the IRA with anti-British sympathies”. That’s true enough, by the way–but we can’t get proof of anything further. Not of the vital facts we want. So stick to it, Mrs Beresford. Go on, and do your darndest.’
‘The fourth,’ said Tuppence. ‘That’s barely a week ahead?’
‘It’s a week exactly.