Partners in Crime_ A Tommy & Tuppence Adventure - Agatha Christie [50]
After standing still a second and listening, he again switched on the torch, and at that flash, as though at a given signal, the place seemed to rise round him. Two men were in front of him, two men were behind him. They closed in on him and bore him down.
‘Lights,’ growled a voice.
An incandescent gas burner was lit. By its light Tommy saw a circle of unpleasing faces. His eyes wandered gently round the room and noted some of the objects in it.
‘Ah!’ he said pleasantly. ‘The headquarters of the counterfeiting industry, if I am not mistaken.’
‘Shut your jaw,’ growled one of the men.
The door opened and shut behind Tommy, and a genial and well-known voice spoke.
‘Got him, boys. That’s right. Now, Mr Busy, let me tell you you’re up against it.’
‘That dear old word,’ said Tommy. ‘How it thrills me. Yes. I am the Mystery Man of Scotland Yard. Why, it’s Mr Hank Ryder. This is a surprise.’
‘I guess you mean that too. I’ve been laughing fit to bust all this evening–leading you here like a little child. And you so pleased with your cleverness. Why, sonny, I was on to you from the start. You weren’t in with that crowd for your health. I let you play about for a while, and when you got real suspicious of the lovely Marguerite, I said to myself: “Now’s the time to lead him to it.” I guess your friends won’t be hearing of you for some time.’
‘Going to do me in? That’s the correct expression, I believe. You have got it in for me.’
‘You’ve got a nerve all right. No, we shan’t attempt violence. Just keep you under restraint, so to speak.’
‘I’m afraid you’re backing the wrong horse,’ said Tommy. ‘I’ve no intention of being “kept under restraint,” as you call it.’
Mr Ryder smiled genially. From outside a cat uttered a melancholy cry to the moon.
‘Banking on that cross you put on the door, eh, sonny?’ said Mr Ryder. ‘I shouldn’t if I were you. Because I know that story you mentioned. Heard it when I was a little boy. I stepped back into the alleyway to enact the part of the dog with eyes as big as cart-wheels. If you were in that alley now, you would observe that every door in the alley is marked with an identical cross.’
Tommy dropped his head despondently.
‘Thought you were mighty clever, didn’t you?’ said Ryder.
As the words left his lips a sharp rapping sounded on the door.
‘What’s that?’ he cried, starting.
At the same time an assault began on the front of the house. The door at the back was a flimsy affair. The lock gave almost immediately and Inspector Marriot showed in the doorway.
‘Well done, Marriot,’ said Tommy. ‘You were quite right as to the district. I’d like you to make the acquaintance of Mr Hank Ryder who knows all the best fairy tales.
‘You see, Mr Ryder,’ he added gently, ‘I’ve had my suspicions of you. Albert (that important-looking boy with the big ears is Albert) had orders to follow on his motorcycle if you and I went off joy-riding at any time. And whilst I was ostentatiously marking a chalk cross on the door to engage your attention, I also emptied a little bottle of valerian on the ground. Nasty smell, but cats love it. All the cats in the neighbourhood were assembled outside to mark the right house when Albert and the police arrived.’
He looked at the dumb founded Mr Ryder with a smile, then rose to his feet.
‘I said I would get you Crackler, and I have got you,’ he observed.
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ asked Mr Ryder. ‘What do you mean–Crackler?’
‘You will find it in the glossary of the next criminal dictionary,’ said Tommy. ‘Etymology doubtful.’
He looked round him with a happy smile.
‘And all done without a nose,’ he murmured brightly. ‘Good-night, Marriot. I must go now to where the happy ending of the story awaits me. No reward like the love of a good woman–and the love of a good woman awaits me at home–that is, I hope it does, but one never knows