Postern of Fate (Tommy and Tuppence Series) - Agatha Christie [39]
‘Flecker,’ she said. ‘Flecker. It goes on:
“Death’s Caravan…Disaster’s Cavern, Fort of Fear.”’
Tommy stared at her, then realized that Miss Collodon had thought he was bringing her a poetic problem to be researched, full information on where a certain quotation came from and who the poet had been who had uttered it. The trouble with Miss Collodon was that her research covered such a broad field.
‘I was just wondering about my wife,’ said Tommy apologetically.
‘Oh,’ said Miss Collodon.
She looked at Tommy with a rather new expression in her eye. Marital trouble in the home, she was deducing. She would presently probably offer him the address of a marriage advice bureau wherein he might seek adjustment in his matrimonial affairs and troubles.
Tommy said hurriedly, ‘Have you had any success with that enquiry I spoke to you about the day before yesterday?’
‘Oh yes. Not very much trouble in that. Somerset House is very useful, you know, in all those things. I don’t think, you know, that there is likely to be anything particular that you want there, but I’ve got the names and addresses of certain births, marriages and deaths.’
‘What, are they all Mary Jordans?’
‘Jordan, yes. A Mary. A Maria and a Polly Jordan. Also a Mollie Jordan. I don’t know if any of them are likely to be what you want. Can I pass this to you?’
She handed him a small typewritten sheet.
‘Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.’
‘There are several addresses, too. The ones you asked me for. I have not been able to find out the address of Major Dalrymple. People change their addresses constantly nowadays. However, I think another two days ought to get that information all right. This is Dr Heseltine’s address. He is at present living at Surbiton.’
‘Thanks very much,’ said Tommy. ‘I might start on him, anyway.’
‘Any more queries?’
‘Yes. I’ve got a list here of about six. Some of them may not be in your line.’
‘Oh well,’ said Miss Collodon, with complete assurance, ‘I have to make things my line, you know. You can easily find out first just where you can find out, if that isn’t a rather foolish way of speech. But it does explain things, you know. I remember–oh, quite a long time ago, when I was first doing this work, I found how useful Selfridge’s advice bureau was. You could ask them the most extraordinary questions about the most extraordinary things and they always seemed to be able to tell you something about it or where you could get the information quickly. But of course they don’t do that sort of thing nowadays. Nowadays, you know, most enquiries that are made are–well, you know, if you want to commit suicide, things like that. Samaritans. And legal questions about wills and a lot of extraordinary things for authors, of course. And jobs abroad and immigration problems. Oh yes, I cover a very wide field.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ said Tommy.
‘And helping alcoholics. A lot of societies there are who specialize in that. Some of them are much better than others. I have quite a list–comprehensive–and some most reliable–’
‘I’ll remember it,’ Tommy said, ‘if I find myself shaping that way any time. It depends how far I get today.’
‘Oh, I’m sure, Mr Beresford, I don’t see any signs of alcoholic difficulties in you.’
‘No red nose?’ said Tommy.
‘It’s worse with women,’ said Miss Collodon. ‘More difficult, you know, to get them off it, as you might say. Men do relapse, but not so notably. But really, some women, they seem quite all right, quite happy drinking lemonade in large quantities and all that, and then some evening, in the middle of a party–well, it’s all there again.’
In turn, she looked at her watch.
‘Oh dear, I must go on to my next appointment. I have to get to Upper Grosvenor Street.’
‘Thank you very much,’ said Tommy, ‘for all you’ve done.’
He opened the door politely, helped Miss Collodon on with her coat, went back into the room and said,
‘I must remember to tell Tuppence this evening that our researches so far have led me to impress a research agent with the idea that my