Partners in Crime

Suddenly glancing at her, he was seized with compunction.

"I say, you look awfully done up. The shock of that man. Come into this place and have a good cup of strong coffee. I suppose you wouldn't hear of a nip of brandy."

The girl shook her head, with a faint smile.

"Coffee be it then," said Tommy. "I think we can safely risk its being poisoned."

They lingered some time over their coffee, and finally set off at a brisker pace.

"We've thrown them off, I think," said Tommy, looking over his shoulder.

Cyclamen Ltd. was a small establishment in Bond Street, with pale pink taffeta curtains, and one or two jars of face cream and a cake of soap decorating the window.

Cicely March entered, and Tommy followed. The place inside was tiny. On the left was a glass counter with toilet preparations. Behind this counter was a middle-aged woman with grey hair and an exquisite complexion who acknowledged Cicely March's entrance with a faint inclination of the head before continuing to talk to the customer she was serving.

This customer was a small dark woman. Her back was to them and they could not see her face. She was speaking in slow difficult English. On the right was a sofa and a couple of chairs with some magazines on a table. Here sat two men-apparently bored husbands waiting for their wives.

Cicely March passed straight on through a door at the end which she held ajar for Tommy to follow her. As he did so, the woman customer exclaimed. "Ah! but I think that is an amico of mine," and rushed after them, inserting her foot in the door just in time to prevent its closing. At the same time, the two men rose to their feet. One followed her through the door, the other advanced to the shop attendant and clapped his hand over her mouth to drown the scream rising to her lips.

In the meantime, things were happening rather quickly beyond the swing door. As Tommy passed through, a cloth was flung over his head, and a sickly odor assailed his nostrils. Almost as soon however, it was jerked off again, and a woman's scream rang out.

Tommy blinked a little and coughed as he took in the scene in front of him. On his right was the mysterious stranger of a few hours ago, and busily fitting handcuffs upon him was one of the bored men from the shop parlor. Just in front of him was Cicely March wrestling vainly to free herself, whilst the woman customer from the shop held her firmly pinioned. As the latter turned her head, and the veil she wore unfastened itself and fell off, the well known features of Tuppence were revealed.

"Well done, Tuppence," said Tommy, moving forward. "Let me give you a hand. I shouldn't struggle if I were you, Miss O'Hara-or do you prefer to be called Miss March?"

"This is Inspector Grace, Tommy," said Tuppence. "As soon as I read the note you left I rang up Scotland Yard, and Inspector Grace and another man met me outside here."

"Very glad to get hold of this gentleman," said the Inspector, indicating his prisoner. "He's wanted badly. But we've never had cause to suspect this place-thought it was a genuine beauty shop."

"You see," explained Tommy gently. "We do have to be so very careful! Why should anyone want the Ambassador's bag for an hour or so? I put the question the other way round. Supposing it was the other bag that was the important one. Someone wanted that bag to be in the Ambassador's possession for an hour or so. Much more illuminating! Diplomatic luggage is not subjected to the indignities of a Customs examination. Clearly smuggling. But smuggling of what? Nothing too bulky. At once I thought of drugs. Then that picturesque comedy was enacted in my office. They'd seen my advertisement and wanted to put me off the scent-or failing that, out of the way altogether. But I happened to notice an expression of blank dismay in the charming lady's eyes when Albert did his lasso act. That didn't fit in very well with her supposed part. The stranger's attack was meant to assure my confidence in her. I played the part of the credulous sleuth with all my might-swallowed her rather impossible story and permitted her to lure me here, carefully leaving behind full instructions for dealing with the situation. Under various pretexts I delayed our arrival, so as to give you all plenty of time."

Cicely March was looking at him with a stony expression.

"You are mad. What do you expect to find here?"

"Remembering that Richards saw a tin of bath salts, what do you say about beginning with the bath salts, eh Inspector?"

"A very sound idea, sir."

He picked up one of the dainty pink tins, and emptied it on the table. The girl laughed.

"Genuine crystals, eh?" said Tommy. "Nothing more deadly than carbonate of soda?"

"Try the safe," suggested Tuppence.