CHAPTER XVIII. THE TELEGRAM
BAFFLED for the moment, Tommy strolled into the restaurant, and ordereda meal of surpassing excellence. His four days’ imprisonment had taughthim anew to value good food.
He was in the middle of conveying a particularly choice morsel of Soleà la Jeanette to his mouth, when he caught sight of Julius enteringthe room. Tommy waved a menu cheerfully, and succeeded in attracting theother’s attention. At the sight of Tommy, Julius’s eyes seemed as thoughthey would pop out of his head. He strode across, and pump-handledTommy’s hand with what seemed to the latter quite unnecessary vigour.
“Holy snakes!” he ejaculated. “Is it really you?”
“Of course it is. Why shouldn’t it be?”
“Why shouldn’t it be? Say, man, don’t you know you’ve been given upfor dead? I guess we’d have had a solemn requiem for you in another fewdays.”
“Who thought I was dead?” demanded Tommy.
“Tuppence.”
“She remembered the proverb about the good dying young, I suppose. Theremust be a certain amount of original sin in me to have survived. Whereis Tuppence, by the way?”
“Isn’t she here?”
“No, the fellows at the office said she’d just gone out.”
“Gone shopping, I guess. I dropped her here in the car about an hourago. But, say, can’t you shed that British calm of yours, and get downto it? What on God’s earth have you been doing all this time?”
“If you’re feeding here,” replied Tommy, “order now. It’s going to be along story.”
Julius drew up a chair to the opposite side of the table, summoned ahovering waiter, and dictated his wishes. Then he turned to Tommy.
“Fire ahead. I guess you’ve had some few adventures.”
“One or two,” replied Tommy modestly, and plunged into his recital.
Julius listened spellbound. Half the dishes that were placed before himhe forgot to eat. At the end he heaved a long sigh.
“Bully for you. Reads like a dime novel!”
“And now for the home front,” said Tommy, stretching out his hand for apeach.
“We-el,” drawled Julius, “I don’t mind admitting we’ve had someadventures too.”
He, in his turn, assumed the rôle of narrator. Beginning with hisunsuccessful reconnoitring at Bournemouth, he passed on to his returnto London, the buying of the car, the growing anxieties of Tuppence,the call upon Sir James, and the sensational occurrences of the previousnight.
“But who killed her?” asked Tommy. “I don’t quite understand.”
“The doctor kidded himself she took it herself,” replied Julius dryly.
“And Sir James? What did he think?”
“Being a legal luminary, he is likewise a human oyster,” replied Julius.“I should say he ‘reserved judgment.’” He went on to detail the eventsof the morning.
“Lost her memory, eh?” said Tommy with interest. “By Jove, that explainswhy they looked at me so queerly when I spoke of questioning her. Bit ofa slip on my part, that! But it wasn’t the sort of thing a fellow wouldbe likely to guess.”
“They didn’t give you any sort of hint as to where Jane was?”
Tommy shook his head regretfully.
“Not a word. I’m a bit of an ass, as you know. I ought to have got moreout of them somehow.”
“I guess you’re lucky to be here at all. That bluff of yours was thegoods all right. How you ever came to think of it all so pat beats me toa frazzle!”
“I was in such a funk I had to think of something,” said Tommy simply.
There was a moment’s pause, and then Tommy reverted to Mrs. Vandemeyer’sdeath.
“There’s no doubt it was chloral?”
“I believe not. At least they call it heart failure induced by anoverdose, or some such claptrap. It’s all right. We don’t want tobe worried with an inquest. But I guess Tuppence and I and even thehighbrow Sir James have all got the same idea.”
“Mr. Brown?” hazarded Tommy.
“Sure thing.”
Tommy nodded.
“All the same,” he said thoughtfully, “Mr. Brown hasn’t got wings. Idon’t see how he got in and out.”
“How about some high-class thought transference stunt? Some magneticinfluence that irresistibly impelled Mrs. Vandemeyer to commit suicide?”
Tommy looked at him with respect.
“Good, Julius. Distinctly good. Especially the phraseology. But itleaves me cold. I yearn for a real Mr. Brown of flesh and blood. I thinkthe gifted young detectives must get to work, study the entrances andexits, and tap the bumps on their foreheads until the solution of themystery dawns on them. Let’s go round to the scene of the crime. I wishwe could get hold of Tuppence. The _Ritz_ would enjoy the spectacle ofthe glad reunion.”
Inquiry at the office revealed the fact that Tuppence had not yetreturned.
“All the same, I guess I’ll have a look round upstairs,” said Julius.“She might be in my sitting-room.” He disappeared.
Suddenly a diminutive boy spoke at Tommy’s elbow:
“The young lady--she’s gone away by train, I think, sir,” he murmuredshyly.
“What?” Tommy wheeled round upon him.
The small boy became pinker than before.
“The taxi, sir. I heard her tell the driver Charing Cross and to looksharp.”
Tommy stared at him, his eyes opening wide in surprise. Emboldened, thesmall boy proceeded. “So I thought, having asked for an A.B.C. and aBradshaw.”
Tommy interrupted him:
“When did she ask for an A.B.C. and a Bradshaw?”
“When I took her the telegram, sir.”
“A telegram?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When was that?”
“About half-past twelve, sir.”
“Tell me exactly what happened.”
The small boy drew a long breath.
“I took up a telegram to No. 891--the lady was there. She opened itand gave a gasp, and then she said, very jolly like: ‘Bring me up aBradshaw, and an A.B.C., and look sharp, Henry.’ My name isn’t Henry,but----”
“Never mind your name,” said Tommy impatiently. “Go on.”
“Yes, sir. I brought them, and she told me to wait, and looked upsomething. And then she looks up at the clock, and ‘Hurry up,’ she says.‘Tell them to get me a taxi,’ and she begins a-shoving on of her hat infront of the glass, and she was down in two ticks, almost as quick as Iwas, and I seed her going down the steps and into the taxi, and I heardher call out what I told you.”
The small boy stopped and replenished his lungs. Tommy continued tostare at him. At that moment Julius rejoined him. He held an open letterin his hand.
“I say, Hersheimmer”--Tommy turned to him--“Tuppence has gone offsleuthing on her own.”
“Shucks!”
“Yes, she has. She went off in a taxi to Charing Cross in the deuce of ahurry after getting a telegram.” His eye fell on the letter in Julius’shand. “Oh; she left a note for you. That’s all right. Where’s she offto?”
Almost unconsciously, he held out his hand for the letter, butJulius folded it up and placed it in his pocket. He seemed a trifleembarrassed.
“I guess this is nothing to do with it. It’s about somethingelse--something I asked her that she was to let me know about.”
“Oh!” Tommy looked puzzled, and seemed waiting for more.
“See here,” said Julius suddenly, “I’d better put you wise. I asked MissTuppence to marry me this morning.”
“Oh!” said Tommy mechanically. He felt dazed. Julius’s words weretotally unexpected. For the moment they benumbed his brain.
“I’d like to tell you,” continued Julius, “that before I suggestedanything of the kind to Miss Tuppence, I made it clear that I didn’twant to butt in in any way between her and you----”
Tommy roused himself.
“That’s all right,” he said quickly. “Tuppence and I have been pals foryea
rs. Nothing more.” He lit a cigarette with a hand that shook everso little. “That’s quite all right. Tuppence always said that she waslooking out for----”
He stopped abruptly, his face crimsoning, but Julius was in no waydiscomposed.
“Oh, I guess it’ll be the dollars that’ll do the trick. Miss Tuppenceput me wise to that right away. There’s no humbug about her. We ought togee along together very well.”
Tommy looked at him curiously for a minute, as though he were aboutto speak, then changed his mind and said nothing. Tuppence and Julius!Well, why not? Had she not lamented the fact that she knew no rich men?Had she not openly avowed her intention of marrying for money if sheever had the chance? Her meeting with the young American millionairehad given her the chance--and it was unlikely she would be slow to availherself of it. She was out for money. She had always said so. Why blameher because she had been true to her creed?
Nevertheless, Tommy did blame her. He was filled with a passionate andutterly illogical resentment. It was all very well to _say_ thingslike that--but a _real_ girl would never marry for money. Tuppence wasutterly cold-blooded and selfish, and he would be delighted if he neversaw her again! And it was a rotten world!
Julius’s voice broke in on these meditations.
“Yes, we ought to gee along together very well. I’ve heard that a girlalways refuses you once--a sort of convention.”
Tommy caught his arm.
“Refuses? Did you say _refuses?_”
“Sure thing. Didn’t I tell you that? She just rapped out a ‘no’ withoutany kind of reason to it. The eternal feminine, the Huns call it, I’veheard. But she’ll come round right enough. Likely enough, I hustled hersome----”
But Tommy interrupted regardless of decorum.
“What did she say in that note?” he demanded fiercely.
The obliging Julius handed it to him.
“There’s no earthly clue in it as to where she’s gone,” he assuredTommy. “But you might as well see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”
The note, in Tuppence’s well-known schoolboy writing, ran as follows:
“DEAR JULIUS,
“It’s always better to have things in black and white. I don’t feel Ican be bothered to think of marriage until Tommy is found. Let’s leaveit till then.
“Yours affectionately,
“TUPPENCE.”
Tommy handed it back, his eyes shining. His feelings had undergone asharp reaction. He now felt that Tuppence was all that was noble anddisinterested. Had she not refused Julius without hesitation? True, thenote betokened signs of weakening, but he could excuse that. It readalmost like a bribe to Julius to spur him on in his efforts to findTommy, but he supposed she had not really meant it that way. DarlingTuppence, there was not a girl in the world to touch her! When he sawher----His thoughts were brought up with a sudden jerk.
“As you say,” he remarked, pulling himself together, “there’s not a hinthere as to what she’s up to. Hi--Henry!”
The small boy came obediently. Tommy produced five shillings.
“One thing more. Do you remember what the young lady did with thetelegram?”
Henry gasped and spoke.
“She crumpled it up into a ball and threw it into the grate, and made asort of noise like ‘Whoop!’ sir.”