A veil might with profit be drawn1 over the events of the next half hour.
Suffice it to say that no such person as “Inspector Brown” was known toScotland Yard. The photograph of Jane Finn, which would have been ofthe utmost value to the police in tracing her, was lost beyond recovery.
Once again “Mr. Brown” had triumphed.
The immediate2 result of this setback3 was to effect a rapprochementbetween Julius Hersheimmer and the Young Adventurers. All barrierswent down with a crash, and Tommy and Tuppence felt they had knownthe young American all their lives. They abandoned the discreet4 reticenceof “private inquiry5 agents,” and revealed to him the whole history of thejoint venture, whereat the young man declared himself “tickled to death.”
He turned to Tuppence at the close of the narration6.
“I’ve always had a kind of idea that English girls were just a mite7 moss-grown. Old-fashioned and sweet, you know, but scared to move roundwithout a footman or a maiden8 aunt. I guess I’m a bit behind the times!”
The upshot of these confidential9 relations was that Tommy and Tup-pence took up their abode10 forthwith at the Ritz, in order, as Tuppence putit, to keep in touch with Jane Finn’s only living relation. “And put likethat,” she added confidentially11 to Tommy, “nobody could boggle at the ex-pense!”
Nobody did, which was the great thing.
“And now,” said the young lady on the morning after their installation,“to work!”
Mr. Beresford put down the Daily Mail, which he was reading, and ap-plauded with somewhat unnecessary vigour12. He was politely requested byhis colleague not to be an ass13.
“Dash it all, Tommy, we’ve got to do something for our money.”
Tommy sighed.
“Yes, I fear even the dear old Government will not support us at the Ritzin idleness forever.”
“Therefore, as I said before, we must do something.”
“Well,” said Tommy, picking up the Daily Mail again, “do it. I shan’t stopyou.”
“You see,” continued Tuppence. “I’ve been thinking—”
She was interrupted by a fresh bout14 of applause.
“It’s all very well for you to sit there being funny, Tommy. It would doyou no harm to do a little brain work too.”
“My union, Tuppence, my union! It does not permit me to work before11 a.m.”
“Tommy, do you want something thrown at you? It is absolutely essen-tial that we should without delay map out a plan of campaign.”
“Hear, hear!”
“Well, let’s do it.”
Tommy laid his paper finally aside. “There’s something of the simplicityof the truly great mind about you, Tuppence. Fire ahead. I’m listening.”
“To begin with,” said Tuppence, “what have we to go upon?”
“Absolutely nothing,” said Tommy cheerily.
“Wrong!” Tuppence wagged an energetic finger. “We have two distinctclues.”
“What are they?”
“First clue, we know one of the gang.”
“Whittington?”
“Yes. I’d recognize him anywhere.”
“Hum,” said Tommy doubtfully. “I don’t call that much of a clue. Youdon’t know where to look for him, and it’s about a thousand to one againstyour running against him by accident.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” replied Tuppence thoughtfully. “I’ve oftennoticed that once coincidences start happening they go on happening inthe most extraordinary way. I daresay it’s some natural law that wehaven’t found out. Still, as you say, we can’t rely on that. But there areplaces in London where simply everyone is bound to turn up sooner orlater. Piccadilly Circus, for instance. One of my ideas was to take up mystand there every day with a tray of flags.”
“What about meals?” inquired the practical Tommy.
“How like a man! What does mere15 food matter?”
“That’s all very well. You’ve just had a thundering good breakfast. Noone’s got a better appetite than you have, Tuppence, and by teatime you’dbe eating the flags, pins and all. But, honestly, I don’t think much of theidea. Whittington mayn’t be in London at all.”
“That’s true. Anyway, I think clue No. 2 is more promising16.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“It’s nothing much. Only a Christian17 name — Rita. Whittington men-tioned it that day.”
“Are you proposing a third advertisement: Wanted, female crook18, an-swering to the name of Rita?”
“I am not. I propose to reason in a logical manner. That man, Danvers,was shadowed on the way over, wasn’t he? And it’s more likely to havebeen a woman than a man—”
“I don’t see that at all.”
“I am absolutely certain that it would be a woman, and a good-lookingone,” replied Tuppence calmly.
“On these technical points I bow to your decision,” murmured Mr.
Beresford.
“Now, obviously, this woman, whoever she was, was saved.”
“How do you make that out?”
“If she wasn’t, how would they have known Jane Finn had got the pa-pers?”
“Correct. Proceed, O Sherlock!”
“Now there’s just a chance, I admit it’s only a chance, that this womanmay have been ‘Rita.’ ”
“And if so?”
“If so, we’ve got to hunt through the survivors19 of the Lusitania till wefind her.”
“Then the first thing is to get a list of the survivors.”
“I’ve got it. I wrote a long list of things I wanted to know, and sent it toMr. Carter. I got his reply this morning, and among other things it enclosesthe official statement of those saved from the Lusitania. How’s that forclever little Tuppence?”
“Full marks for industry, zero for modesty20. But the great point is, isthere a ‘Rita’ on the list?”
“That’s just what I don’t know,” confessed Tuppence.
“Don’t know?”
“Yes, look here.” Together they bent21 over the list. “You see, very fewChristian names are given. They’re nearly all Mrs. or Miss.”
Tommy nodded.
“That complicates22 matters,” he murmured thoughtfully.
Tuppence gave her characteristic “terrier” shake.
“Well, we’ve just got to get down to it, that’s all. We’ll start with the Lon-don area. Just note down the addresses of any of the females who live inLondon or roundabout, while I put on my hat.”
Five minutes later the young couple emerged into Piccadilly, and a fewseconds later a taxi was bearing them to The Laurels23, Glendower Road,N.7., the residence of Mrs. Edgar Keith, whose name figured first in a listof seven reposing24 in Tommy’s pocketbook.
The Laurels was a dilapidated house, standing25 back from the road witha few grimy bushes to support the fiction of a front garden. Tommy paidoff the taxi, and accompanied Tuppence to the front doorbell. As she wasabout to ring it, he arrested her hand.
“What are you going to say?”
“What am I going to say? Why, I shall say—Oh dear, I don’t know. It’svery awkward.”
“I thought as much,” said Tommy with satisfaction. “How like a woman!
No foresight26! Now just stand aside, and see how easily the mere maledeals with the situation.” He pressed the bell. Tuppence withdrew to asuitable spot.
A slatternly-looking servant, with an extremely dirty face and a pair ofeyes that did not match, answered the door.
Tommy had produced a notebook and pencil.
“Good morning,” he said briskly and cheerfully. “From the HampsteadBorough Council. The New Voting Register. Mrs. Edgar Keith lives here,does she not?”
“Yaas,” said the servant.
“Christian name?” asked Tommy, his pencil poised27.
“Missus’s? Eleanor Jane.”
“Eleanor,” spelt Tommy. “Any sons or daughters over twenty-one?”
“Naow.”
“Thank you.” Tommy closed the notebook with a brisk snap. “Goodmorning.”
The servant volunteered her first remark:
“I thought perhaps as you’d come about the gas,” she observed cryptic-ally, and shut the door.
Tommy rejoined his accomplice28.
“You see, Tuppence,” he observed. “Child’s play to the masculine mind.”
“I don’t mind admitting that for once you’ve scored handsomely. Ishould never have thought of that.”
“Good wheeze29, wasn’t it? And we can repeat it ad lib.”
Lunchtime found the young couple attacking steak and chips in an ob-scure hostelry with avidity. They had collected a Gladys Mary and a Mar-jorie, been baffled by one change of address, and had been forced to listento a long lecture on universal suffrage30 from a vivacious31 American ladywhose Christian name had proved to be Sadie.
“Ah!” said Tommy, imbibing32 a long draught33 of beer. “I feel better.
Where’s the next draw?”
The notebook lay on the table between them. Tuppence picked it up.
“Mrs. Vandemeyer,” she read, “20 South Audley Mansions34. MissWheeler, 43 Clapington Road, Battersea. She’s a lady’s maid, as far as I re-member, so probably won’t be there, and, anyway, she’s not likely.”
“Then the Mayfair lady is clearly indicated as the first port of call.”
“Tommy, I’m getting discouraged.”
“Buck up, old bean. We always knew it was an outside chance. And, any-way, we’re only starting. If we draw a blank in London, there’s a fine tourof England, Ireland and Scotland before us.”
“True,” said Tuppence, her flagging spirits reviving. “And all expensespaid! But, oh, Tommy, I do like things to happen quickly. So far, adventurehas succeeded adventure, but this morning has been dull as dull.”
“You must stifle35 this longing36 for vulgar sensation, Tuppence. Rememberthat if Mr. Brown is all he is reported to be, it’s a wonder that he has notere now done us to death. That’s a good sentence, quite a literary flavourabout it.”
“You’re really more conceited37 than I am—with less excuse! Ahem! But itcertainly is queer that Mr. Brown has not yet wreaked38 vengeance39 upon us.
(You see, I can do it too.) We pass on our way unscathed.”
“Perhaps he doesn’t think us worth bothering about,” suggested theyoung man simply.
Tuppence received the remark with great disfavour.
“How horrid40 you are, Tommy. Just as though we didn’t count.”
“Sorry, Tuppence. What I meant was that we work like moles41 in thedark, and that he has no suspicion of our nefarious42 schemes. Ha ha!”
“Ha ha!” echoed Tuppence approvingly, as she rose.
South Audley Mansions was an imposing43 looking block of flats just offPark Lane. No. 20 was on the second floor.
Tommy had by this time the glibness44 born of practice. He rattled45 off theformula to the elderly woman, looking more like a housekeeper46 than aservant, who opened the door to him.
“Christian name?”
“Margaret.”
Tommy spelt it, but the other interrupted him.
“No, g u e.”
“Oh, Marguerite; French way, I see.” He paused then plunged47 boldly.
“We had her down as Rita Vandermeyer, but I suppose that’s correct?”
“She’s mostly called that, sir, but Marguerite’s her name.”
“Thank you. That’s all. Good morning.”
Hardly able to contain his excitement, Tommy hurried down the stairs.
Tuppence was waiting at the angle of the turn.
“You heard?”
“Yes. Oh, Tommy!”
Tommy squeezed her arm sympathetically.
“I know, old thing. I feel the same.”
“It’s—it’s so lovely to think of things—and then for them really to hap-pen!” cried Tuppence enthusiastically.
Her hand was still in Tommy’s. They had reached the entrance hall.
There were footsteps on the stairs above them, and voices.
Suddenly, to Tommy’s complete surprise, Tuppence dragged him intothe little space by the side of the lift where the shadow was deepest.
“What the—”
“Hush!”
Two men came down the stairs and passed out through the entrance.
Tuppence’s hand closed tighter on Tommy’s arm.
“Quick—follow them. I daren’t. He might recognize me. I don’t knowwho the other man is, but the bigger of the two was Whittington.”
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收听单词发音
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1
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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setback
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| n.退步，挫折，挫败 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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survivors
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| 幸存者，残存者，生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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complicates
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| 使复杂化( complicate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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reposing
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的现在分词 ) | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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foresight
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| n.先见之明，深谋远虑 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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29
wheeze
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| n.喘息声，气喘声；v.喘息着说 | |
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suffrage
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| n.投票，选举权，参政权 | |
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vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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imbibing
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| v.吸收( imbibe的现在分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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wreaked
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| 诉诸（武力），施行（暴力），发（脾气）( wreak的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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moles
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| 防波堤( mole的名词复数 )； 鼹鼠； 痣； 间谍 | |
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42
nefarious
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| adj.恶毒的，极坏的 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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44
glibness
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| n.花言巧语；口若悬河 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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