her - see where she goes and whom she meets. Tommy, let's get Albert down here.”
Tommy considered the point.
Some years ago, Albert, a page boy in a hotel, had joined forces with the young Beresfords and shared their adventures. Afterwards he had entered their service and been the sole domestic prop of the establishment. Some six years ago he had married and was now the proud proprietor of The Duck and Dog pub in South London.
Tuppence continued rapidly:
? “Albert will be thrilled. We'll get him down here. He can stay at the pub near the station and he can shadow the Perennas for us - or any one else.”
“What about Mrs Albert?”
“She was going to her mother in Wales with the children last Monday. Because of Air Raids. It all fits in perfectly.”
“Yes, that's a good idea. Tuppence. Either of us following the woman about would be rather conspicuous. Albert will be perfect. Now another thing - I think we ought to watch out for that so-called Polish woman who was talking to Carl and hanging about here. It seems to me that she probably represents the other end of the business - and that's what we're anxious to find.”
“Oh, yes, I do agree. She comes here for orders, or to take messages. Next time we see her, one of us must follow her and find out more about her.”
“What about looking through Mrs Perenna's room - and Carl's, too, I suppose?”
“I don't suppose you'll find anything in his. After all, as a German, the police are liable to search it and so he'd be careful not to have anything suspicious. The Perenna is going to be difficult. When she's out of the house, Sheila is often here, and there's Betty and Mrs Sprot running about all over the landings, and Mrs O'Rourke spends a lot of time in her bedroom.”
She paused.
“Lunch time is the best.”
“Master Carl's time?”
“Exactly. I could have a headache and go to my room - No, someone might come up and want to minister to me. I know, I'll just come in quietly before lunch and go up to my room without telling anyone. Then, after lunch, I can say I had a headache.”
“Hadn't I better do it? My hay fever could recrudesce tomorrow.”
“I think it had better be me. If I'm caught I could always say I was looking for aspirin or something. One of the gentlemen boarders in Mrs Perenna's room would cause far more speculation.”
Tommy grinned.
“Of a scandalous character.”
Then the smile died. He looked grave and anxious.
“As soon as we can, old thing. The news is bad today. We must get on to something soon.”
N or M
V
Tommy continued his walk and presently entered the post office, where he put through a call to Mr Grant, and reported “the recent operation was successful and our friend C is definitely involved.”
Then he wrote a letter and posted it. It was addressed to Mr Albert Batt, The Duck and Dog, Glamorgan St., Kensington.
Then he bought himself a weekly paper which professed to inform the English world of what was really going to happen and strolled innocently back in the direction of Sans Souci.
Presently he was hailed by the hearty voice of Commander Haydock leaning from his two seater car and shouting, “Hallo, Meadowes, want a lift?”
Tommy accepted a lift gratefully and got in.
“So you read that rag, do you?” demanded Haydock, glancing at the scarlet cover of the Inside Weekly News.
Mr Meadowes displayed the slight confusion of all readers of the periodical in question when challenged.
“Awful rag,” he agreed. “But sometimes, you know, they really do seem to know what's going on behind the scenes.”
“And sometimes they're wrong.”
“Oh, quite so.”
“Truth of it is,” said Commander Haydock, steering rather erratically round a one-way island and narrowly missing collision with a large van, “when the beggars are right, one remembers it, and when they're wrong you forget it.”
“Do you think there's any truth in this rumour about Stalin having approached us?”
“Wishful
Tommy considered the point.
Some years ago, Albert, a page boy in a hotel, had joined forces with the young Beresfords and shared their adventures. Afterwards he had entered their service and been the sole domestic prop of the establishment. Some six years ago he had married and was now the proud proprietor of The Duck and Dog pub in South London.
Tuppence continued rapidly:
? “Albert will be thrilled. We'll get him down here. He can stay at the pub near the station and he can shadow the Perennas for us - or any one else.”
“What about Mrs Albert?”
“She was going to her mother in Wales with the children last Monday. Because of Air Raids. It all fits in perfectly.”
“Yes, that's a good idea. Tuppence. Either of us following the woman about would be rather conspicuous. Albert will be perfect. Now another thing - I think we ought to watch out for that so-called Polish woman who was talking to Carl and hanging about here. It seems to me that she probably represents the other end of the business - and that's what we're anxious to find.”
“Oh, yes, I do agree. She comes here for orders, or to take messages. Next time we see her, one of us must follow her and find out more about her.”
“What about looking through Mrs Perenna's room - and Carl's, too, I suppose?”
“I don't suppose you'll find anything in his. After all, as a German, the police are liable to search it and so he'd be careful not to have anything suspicious. The Perenna is going to be difficult. When she's out of the house, Sheila is often here, and there's Betty and Mrs Sprot running about all over the landings, and Mrs O'Rourke spends a lot of time in her bedroom.”
She paused.
“Lunch time is the best.”
“Master Carl's time?”
“Exactly. I could have a headache and go to my room - No, someone might come up and want to minister to me. I know, I'll just come in quietly before lunch and go up to my room without telling anyone. Then, after lunch, I can say I had a headache.”
“Hadn't I better do it? My hay fever could recrudesce tomorrow.”
“I think it had better be me. If I'm caught I could always say I was looking for aspirin or something. One of the gentlemen boarders in Mrs Perenna's room would cause far more speculation.”
Tommy grinned.
“Of a scandalous character.”
Then the smile died. He looked grave and anxious.
“As soon as we can, old thing. The news is bad today. We must get on to something soon.”
N or M
V
Tommy continued his walk and presently entered the post office, where he put through a call to Mr Grant, and reported “the recent operation was successful and our friend C is definitely involved.”
Then he wrote a letter and posted it. It was addressed to Mr Albert Batt, The Duck and Dog, Glamorgan St., Kensington.
Then he bought himself a weekly paper which professed to inform the English world of what was really going to happen and strolled innocently back in the direction of Sans Souci.
Presently he was hailed by the hearty voice of Commander Haydock leaning from his two seater car and shouting, “Hallo, Meadowes, want a lift?”
Tommy accepted a lift gratefully and got in.
“So you read that rag, do you?” demanded Haydock, glancing at the scarlet cover of the Inside Weekly News.
Mr Meadowes displayed the slight confusion of all readers of the periodical in question when challenged.
“Awful rag,” he agreed. “But sometimes, you know, they really do seem to know what's going on behind the scenes.”
“And sometimes they're wrong.”
“Oh, quite so.”
“Truth of it is,” said Commander Haydock, steering rather erratically round a one-way island and narrowly missing collision with a large van, “when the beggars are right, one remembers it, and when they're wrong you forget it.”
“Do you think there's any truth in this rumour about Stalin having approached us?”
“Wishful
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