‘You’re wrong there,’ said Tommy with a smile. ‘Dead wrong. The Larches, Hampstead.’
Dymchurch seemed honestly taken aback. Clearly he had not expected this.
‘I don’t understand it,’ he muttered. ‘It must be a new layout. The Larches, Hampstead, you said?’
‘Yes. I’m to meet him there at eleven o’clock tonight.’
‘Don’t you do it, sir.’
‘There!’ burst from Tuppence.
Tommy flushed.
‘If you think, Inspector –’ he began heatedly.
But the Inspector raised a soothing hand.
‘I’ll tell you what I think, Mr Blunt. The place you want to be at eleven o’clock tonight is here in this office.’
‘What?’ cried Tuppence, astonished.
‘Here in this office. Never mind how I know – departments overlap sometimes – but you got one of those famous “Blue” letters today. Old what’s-his-name is after that. He lures you up to Hampstead, makes quite sure of your being out of the way, and steps in here at night when all the building is empty and quiet to have a good search round at his leisure.’
‘But why should he think the letter would be here? He’d know I should have it on me or else have passed it on.’
‘Begging your pardon, sir, that’s just what he wouldn’t know. He may have tumbled to the fact that you’re not the original Mr Blunt, but he probably thinks that you’re a bona fide gentleman who’s bought the business. In that case, the letter would be all in the way of regular business and would be filed as such.’
‘I see,’ said Tuppence.
‘And that’s just what we’ve got to let him think. We’ll catch him red-handed here tonight.’
‘So that’s the plan, is it?’
‘Yes. It’s the chance of a lifetime. Now, let me see, what’s the time? Six o’clock. What time do you usually leave here, sir?’
‘About six.’
‘You must seem to leave the place as usual. Actually we’ll sneak back to it as soon as possible. I don’t believe they’ll come here till about eleven, but of course they might. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go and take a look round outside and see if I can make out anyone watching the place.’
Dymchurch departed, and Tommy began an argument with Tuppence.
It lasted some time and was heated and acrimonious. In the end Tuppence suddenly capitulated.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘I give in. I’ll go home and sit there like a good little girl whilst you tackle crooks and hobnob with detectives – but you wait, young man. I’ll be even with you yet for keeping me out of the fun.’
Dymchurch returned at that moment.
‘Coast seems clear enough,’ he said. ‘But you can’t tell. Better seem to leave in the usual manner. They won’t go on watching the place once you’ve gone.’
Tommy called Albert and gave him instructions to lock up.
Then the four of them made their way to the garage near by where the car was usually left. Tuppence drove and Albert sat beside her. Tommy and the detective sat behind.
Presently they were held up by a block in the traffic. Tuppence looked over her shoulder and nodded. Tommy and the detective opened the right hand door and stepped out into the middle of Oxford Street. In a minute or two Tuppence drove on.
II
‘Better not go in just yet,’ said Dymchurch as he and Tommy hurried into Haleham Street. ‘You’ve got the key all right?’
Tommy nodded.
‘Then what about a bite of dinner? It’s early, but there’s a little place here right opposite. We’ll get a table by the window, so that we can watch the place all the time.’
They had a very welcome little meal, in the manner the detective had suggested. Tommy found Inspector Dymchurch quite an entertaining companion. Most of his official work had lain amongst international spies, and he had tales to tell which astonished his simple listener.
They remained in the little restaurant until eight o’clock, when Dymchurch suggested a move.
‘It’s quite dark now, sir,’ he explained. ‘We shall be able to slip in without any one being the wiser.’
It was, as he said, quite dark. They crossed the road, looked quickly up and down the deserted street, and slipped inside the entrance. Then they mounted the stairs, and Tommy inserted his key in the lock of the outer office.
Just as he did so, he heard, as he thought, Dymchurch whistle beside him.
‘What are you whistling for?’ he asked sharply.
‘I didn’t whistle,’ said Dymchurch, very much astonished. ‘I thought you did.’
‘Well, some one –’ began Tommy.
He got no further. Strong arms seized him from behind, and before he could cry out, a pad of something sweet and sickly was pressed over his mouth and nose.
He struggled valiantly, but in vain. The chloroform did its work. His head began to whirl and the floor heaved up and down in front of him. Choking, he lost consciousness …
He came to himself painfully, but in full possession of his faculties. The chloroform had been only a whiff. They had kept him under long enough to force a gag into his mouth and ensure that he did not cry out.
When he came to himself, he was half-lying, half-sitting, propped against the wall in a corner of his own inner office. Two men were busily turning out the contents of the desk and ransacking the cupboards, and as they worked they cursed freely.
‘Swelp me, guv’nor,’ said the taller of the two hoarsely, ‘we’ve turned the whole b––y place upside down and inside out. It’s not there.’
‘It must be here,’ snarled the other. ‘It isn’t on him. And there’s no other place it can be.’
As he spoke he turned, and to Tommy’s utter amazement he saw that the last speaker was none other than Inspector Dymchurch. The latter grinned when he saw Tommy’s astonished face.
‘So our young friend is awake again,’ he said. ‘And a little surprised – yes, a little surprised. But it was so simple. We suspect that all is not as it should be with the International Detective Agency. I volunteer to find out if that is so, or not. If the new Mr Blunt is indeed a spy, he will be suspicious, so I send first my dear old friend, Carl Bauer. Carl is told to act suspiciously and pitch an improbable tale. He does so, and then I appear on the scene. I used the name of Inspector Marriot to gain confidence. The rest is easy.’
He laughed.
Tommy was dying to say several things, but the gag in his mouth prevented him. Also, he was dying to do several things – mostly with his hands and feet – but alas, that too had been attended to. He was securely bound.
The thing that amazed him most was the astounding change in the man standing over him. As Inspector Dymchurch the fellow had been a typical Englishman. Now, no one could have mistaken him for a moment for anything but a well-educated foreigner who talked English perfectly without a trace of accent.
‘Coggins, my good friend,’ said the erstwhile Inspector, addressing his ruffianly-looking associate, ‘take your life-preserver and stand by the prisoner. I am going to remove the gag. You understand, my dear Mr Blunt, do you not, that it would be criminally foolish on your part to cry out? But I am sure you do. For your age, you are quite an intelligent lad.’
Very deftly he removed the