Postern of Fate (Tommy and Tuppence Series) - Agatha Christie [46]
‘Yes,’ said Tommy. ‘Yes. It was–it was quite a shock.’
‘Why did he tell you?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Tommy. ‘I thought–well, two or three different things.’
‘Did he–what’s he like, Tommy? You haven’t really told me.’
‘Well, he’s yellow,’ said Tommy. ‘Yellow and big and fat and very, very ordinary, but at the same time, if you know what I mean, he isn’t ordinary at all. He’s–well, he’s what my friend said he was. He’s one of the tops.’
‘You sound like someone talking about pop singers.’
‘Well, one gets used to using these terms.’
‘Yes, but why? Surely that was revealing something that he wouldn’t have wanted to reveal, you’d think.’
‘It was a long time ago,’ said Tommy. ‘It’s all over, you see. I suppose none of it matters nowadays. I mean, look at all the things they’re releasing now. Off the record. You know, not hushing up things any more. Letting it all come out, what really happened. What one person wrote and what another person said and what one row was about and how something else was all hushed up because of something you never heard about.’
‘You make me feel horribly confused,’ said Tuppence, ‘when you say things like that. It makes everything wrong, too, doesn’t it?’
‘How do you mean, makes everything wrong?’
‘Well, I mean, the way we’ve been looking at it. I mean–what do I mean?’
‘Go on,’ said Tommy. ‘You must know what you mean.’
‘Well, what I said. It’s all wrong. I mean, we found this thing in The Black Arrow, and it was all clear enough. Somebody had written it in there, probably this boy Alexander, and it meant that somebody–one of them, he said, at least, one of us–I mean he put it that way but that’s what he meant–one of the family or somebody in the house or something, had arranged to bring about the death of Mary Jordan, and we didn’t know who Mary Jordan was, which was very baffling.’
‘Goodness knows it’s been baffling,’ said Tommy.
‘Well, it hasn’t baffled you as much as me. It’s baffled me a great deal. I haven’t really found out anything about her. At least–’
‘What you found out about her was that she had been apparently a German spy, isn’t that what you mean? You found out that?’
‘Yes, that is what was believed about her, and I supposed it was true. Only now–’
‘Yes,’ said Tommy, ‘only now we know that it wasn’t true. She was the opposite to a German spy.’
‘She was a sort of English spy.’
‘Well, she must have been in the English espionage or security whatever it was called. And she came here in some capacity to find out something. To find out something about–about–what’s his name now? I wish I could remember names better. I mean the naval officer or the Army officer or whatever he was. The one who sold the secret of the submarine or something like that. Yes, I suppose there was a little cluster of German agents here, rather like in N or M all over again, all busy preparing things.’
‘It would seem so, yes.’
‘And she was sent here in that case, presumably, to find out all about it.’
‘I see.’
‘So “one of us” didn’t mean what we thought it meant. “One of us” meant–well, it had to be someone who was in this neighbourhood. And somebody who had something to do with this house, or was in this house for a special occasion. And so, when she died, her death wasn’t a natural one, because somebody got wise to what she was doing. And Alexander found out about it.’
‘She was pretending to spy, perhaps,’ said Tuppence, ‘for Germany. Making friends with Commander–whoever it was.’
‘Call him Commander X,’ said Tommy, ‘if you can’t remember.’
‘All right, all right. Commander X. She was getting friendly with him.’
‘There was also,’ said Tommy, ‘an enemy agent living down here. The head of a big organization. He lived in a cottage somewhere, down near the quay I think it was, and he wrote a lot of propaganda, and used to say that really our best plan would be to join in with Germany and get together with them–and things like that.’
‘It is all so confusing,’ said Tuppence. ‘All these things–plans, and secret papers and plots and espionage–have been so confusing.