The Seven Dials Mystery - Agatha Christie [36]
As for Bundle, no sooner had she rung off than she attired herself in various nondescript garments belonging, as a matter of fact, to her maid. And having donned them she sallied out on foot deliberating whether bus or tube would be the best route by which to reach the Seven Dials Club.
Chapter 13
The Seven Dials Club
Bundle reached 14 Hunstanton Street about six p.m. At that hour, as she rightly judged, the Seven Dials Club was a dead spot. Bundle’s aim was a simple one. She intended to get hold of the ex-footman Alfred. She was convinced that once she had got hold of him the rest would be easy. Bundle had a simple autocratic method of dealing with retainers. It seldom failed, and she saw no reason why it should fail now.
The only thing of which she was not certain was how many people inhabited the club premises. Naturally she wished to disclose her presence to as few people as possible.
Whilst she was hesitating as to the best line of attack, the problem was solved for her in a singularly easy fashion. The door of No 14 opened and Alfred himself came out.
‘Good-afternoon, Alfred,’ said Bundle pleasantly.
Alfred jumped.
‘Oh! good-afternoon, your ladyship. I–I didn’t recognize your ladyship just for a moment.’
Paying a tribute in her own mind to her maid’s clothing, Bundle proceeded to business.
‘I want a few words with you, Alfred. Where shall we go?’
‘Well–really, my lady–I don’t know–it’s not what you might call a nice part round here–I don’t know, I’m sure–’
Bundle cut him short.
‘Who’s in the club?’
‘No one at present, my lady.’
‘Then we’ll go in there.’
Alfred produced a key and opened the door. Bundle passed in. Alfred, troubled and sheepish, followed her. Bundle sat down and looked straight at the uncomfortable Alfred.
‘I suppose you know,’ she said crisply, ‘that what you’re doing here is dead against the law?’
Alfred shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
‘It’s true as we’ve been raided twice,’ he admitted. ‘But nothing compromising was found, owing to the neatness of Mr Mosgorovsky’s arrangements.’
‘I’m not talking of the gambling only,’ said Bundle. There’s more than that–probably a great deal more than you know. I’m going to ask you a direct question, Alfred, and I should like the truth, please. How much were you paid for leaving Chimneys?’
Alfred looked twice round the cornice as though seeking for inspiration, swallowed three or four times, and then took the inevitable course of a weak will opposed to a strong one.
‘It was this way, your ladyship. Mr Mosgorovsky, he come with a party to visit Chimneys on one of the show days. Mr Tredwell, he was indisposed like–an ingrowing toe-nail as a matter of fact–so it fell to me to show the parties over. At the end of the tour Mr Mosgorovsky, he stays behind the rest, and after giving me something handsome, he falls into conversation.’
‘Yes,’ said Bundle encouragingly.
‘And the long and the short of it was,’ said Alfred, with a sudden acceleration of his narrative, ‘that he offers me a hundred pound down to leave that instant and to look after this here club. He wanted someone as was used to the best families–to give the place a tone, as he put it. And, well, it seemed flying in the face of providence to refuse–let alone that the wages I get here are just three times what they were as second footman.’
‘A hundred pounds,’ said Bundle. ‘That’s a very large sum, Alfred. Did they say anything about who was to fill your place at Chimneys?’
‘I demurred a bit, my lady, about leaving at once. As I pointed out, it wasn’t usual and might cause inconvenience. But Mr Mosgorovsky he knew of a young chap–been in good service and ready to come any minute. So I mentioned his name to Mr Tredwell and everything was settled pleasant like.’
Bundle nodded. Her own suspicions had been correct and the modus operandi was much as she had thought it to be. She essayed a further inquiry.
‘Who is Mr Mosgorovsky?’
‘Gentleman as runs this club. Russian gentleman. A very clever