Page 20 of N or M? (Tommy & Tuppence 3)

Political and military scandal was happily bandied about.

Tuppence thought to herself: "Chatterbugs a danger? Nonsense, they're a safety valve. People enjoy these rumours. It gives them the stimulation to carry on with their own private worries and anxieties." She contributed a nice tid-bit prefixed by, "My son told me - of course this is quite private, you understand -"

Suddenly, with a start, Mrs Sprot glanced at her watch.

"Goodness, it's nearly seven. I ought to have put that child to bed hours ago. Betty - Betty!"

It was some time since Betty had returned to the terrace, though no one had noticed her defection.

Mrs Sprot called her with rising impatience.

"Bett-eeee! Where can the child be?"

Mrs O'Rourke said, with her deep laugh:

"Up to mischief, I've no doubt of it. 'Tis always the way when there's peace."

"Betty! I want you."

There was no answer and Mrs Sprot rose impatiently.

"I suppose I must go and look for her. I wonder where she can be?"

Miss Minton suggested that she was hiding somewhere and Tuppence, with memories of her own childhood, suggested the kitchen. But Betty could not be found, either inside or outside the house. They went round the garden calling, looking all over the bedrooms. There was no Betty anywhere.

Mrs Sprot began to get annoyed.

"It's very naughty of her - very naughty indeed! Do you think she can have gone out on the road?"

Together she and Tuppence went out to the gate and looked up and down the hill. There was no one in sight except a tradesman's boy with a bicycle standing talking to a maid at the door of St. Lucian's opposite.

On Tuppence's suggestion, she and Mrs Sprot crossed the road and the latter asked if either of them had noticed a little girl. They both shook their heads and then the servant asked, with sudden recollection:

"A little girl in a green checked gingham dress?"

Mrs Sprot said eagerly:

"That's right."

"I saw her about half an hour ago - going down the road with a woman."

Mrs Sprot said, with astonishment:

"With a woman? What sort of a woman?"

The girl seemed slightly embarrassed.

"Well, what I'd call an odd looking kind of woman. A foreigner she was. Queer clothes. A kind of shawl thing and no hat, and a strange sort of face - queer like, if you know what I mean. I've seen her about once or twice lately, and to tell the truth I thought she was a bit wanting - If you know what I mean," she added helpfully.

In a flash Tuppence remembered the face she had seen that afternoon peering through the bushes and the foreboding that had swept over her.

But she had never thought of the woman in connection with the child, could not understand it now.

She had little time for meditation, however. Mrs Sprot almost collapsed against her.

"Oh, Betty, my little girl. She's been kidnapped. She - what did the woman look like - a gypsy?"

Tuppence shook her head energetically.

"No, she was fair, very fair, a broad face with high cheek bones and blue eyes set very far apart."

She saw Mrs Sprot staring at her and hastened to explain.

"I saw the woman this afternoons - peering through the bushes at the bottom of the garden. And I've noticed her hanging about. Carl von Deinim was speaking to her one day. It must be the same woman."

The servant girl chimed in to say:

"That's right. Fair-haired, she was. And wanting, if you ask me. Didn't understand nothing that was said to her."

"Oh, God," moaned Mrs Sprot. "What shall I do?"

Tuppence passed an arm round her.

"Come back to the house, have a little brandy and then we'll ring up the police. It's all right. We'll get her back."

Mrs Sprot went with her meekly, murmuring in a dazed fashion:

"I can't imagine how Betty would go like that with a stranger."

"She's very young," said Tuppence. "Not old enough to be shy."

Mrs Sprot cried out weakly:

"Some dreadful German woman, I expect. She'll kill my Betty."

"Nonsense," said Tuppence robustly. "It will be all right. I expect she's just some woman who's not quite right in her head." But she did not believe her own words - did not believe for one moment that that calm blond woman was an irresponsible lunatic.

Carl! Would Carl know? Had Carl something to do with this?

A few minutes later she was inclined to doubt this. Carl von Deinim, like the rest, seemed amazed, unbelieving, completely surprised.

As soon as the facts were made plain. Major Bletchley assumed control.

"Now then, dear lady," he said to Mrs Sprot, "sit down here - just drink a little drop of this - brandy - it won't hurt you - and I'll get straight on to the police station."

Mrs Sprot murmured:

"Wait a minute - there might be something -"

She hurried up the stairs and along the passage to hers and Betty's room.

A minute or two later they heard her footsteps running wildly along the landing. She rushed down the stairs like a demented woman and clutched Major Bletchley's hand from the telephone receiver, which he was just about to lift.

"No, no," she panted. "You mustn't - you mustn't..."

And sobbing wildly, she collapsed into a chair.

They crowded around her. In a minute or two, she recovered her composure. Sitting up, with Mrs Cayley's arm round her, she held something out for them to see.

"I found this - on the floor of my room. It had been wrapped round a stone and thrown through the window. Look - look what it says."

Tommy took it from her and unfolded it.

It was a note, written in a queer stiff foreign handwriting, big and bold.

WE HAVE GOT YOUR CHILD IN SAFE KEEPING. YOU WILL BE TOLD WHAT TO DO IN DUE COURSE. IF YOU GO TO THE POLICE YOUR CHILD WILL BE KILLED. SAY NOTHING. WAIT FOR INSTRUCTIONS. IF NOT -

It was signed with a skull and crossbones.

Mrs Sprot was moaning faintly:

"Betty - Betty -"

Everyone was talking at once. "The dirty murdering scoundrels -" from Mrs O'Rourke. "Brutes!" from Sheila Perenna. "Fantastic, fantastic - I don't believe a word of it. Silly practical joke," from Mr Cayley. "Oh, the dear, wee mite," from Miss Minton. "I do not understand. It is incredible," from Carl von Deinim. And above everyone else the strenuous voice of Major Bletchley:

"Damned nonsense. Intimidation. We must inform the police at once. They'll soon get to the bottom of it."

Once more he moved toward the telephone. This time a scream of outraged motherhood from Mrs Sprot stopped him.

He shouted:

"But, my dear Madam, it's got to be done. This is only a crude device to prevent you getting on the track of these scoundrels."

"They'll kill her."

"Nonsense. They wouldn't dare."

"I won't have it, I tell you. I'm her mother. It's for me to say."

"I know. I know. That's what they're counting on - your feeling like that. Very natural. But you must take it from me, a soldier and an experienced man of the world, the police are what we need."

"No!"

Bletchley's eyes went round seeking allies.

"Meadowes, you agree with me?"

Slowly, Tommy nodded.

"Cayley? Look, Mrs Sprot, both Meadowes and Cayley agree."

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