Christie, Agatha - Partners in Crime by Christie Agatha

Author:Christie, Agatha [Christie, Agatha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780061749056
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2008-11-22T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

The Sunningdale Mystery

‘Do you know where we are going to lunch today, Tuppence?’

Mrs Beresford considered the question.

‘The Ritz?’ she suggested hopefully.

‘Think again.’

‘That nice little place in Soho?’

‘No.’ Tommy’s tone was full of importance. ‘An ABC shop. This one, in fact.’

He drew her deftly inside an establishment of the kind indicated, and steered her to a corner marble-topped table.

‘Excellent,’ said Tommy with satisfaction, as he seated himself. ‘Couldn’t be better.’

‘Why has this craze for the simple life come upon you?’ demanded Tuppence.

‘You see, Watson, but you do not observe. Iwonder now whether one of these haughty damsels would condescend to notice us? Splendid, she drifts this way. It is true that she appears to be thinking of something else, but doubtless her sub-conscious mind is functioning busily with such matters as ham and eggs and pots of tea. Chop and fried potatoes, please, miss, and a large coffee, a roll and butter, and a plate of tongue for the lady.’

The waitress repeated the order in a scornful tone, but Tuppence leant forward suddenly and interrupted her.

‘No, not a chop and fried potatoes. This gentleman will have a cheesecake and a glass of milk.’

‘A cheesecake and a milk,’ said the waitress with even deeper scorn, if that were possible. Still thinking of something else, she drifted away again.

‘That was uncalled for,’ said Tommy coldly.

‘But I’m right, aren’t I? You are the Old Man in the Corner? Where’s your piece of string?’

Tommy drew a long twisted mesh of string from his pocket and proceeded to tie a couple of knots in it.

‘Complete to the smallest detail,’ he murmured.

‘You made a small mistake in ordering your meal, though.’

‘Women are so literal-minded,’ said Tommy. ‘If there’s one thing I hate it’s milk to drink, and cheese-cakes are always so yellow and bilious-looking.’

‘Be an artist,’ said Tuppence. ‘Watch me attack my cold tongue. Jolly good stuff, cold tongue. Now then, I’m all ready to be Miss Polly Burton. Tie a large knot and begin.’

‘First of all,’ said Tommy, ‘speaking in a strictly unofficial capacity, let me point out this. Business is not too brisk lately. If business does not come to us, we must go to business. Apply our minds to one of the great public mysteries of the moment. Which brings me to the point–the Sunningdale Mystery.’

‘Ah!’ said Tuppence, with deep interest. ‘The Sunningdale Mystery!’

Tommy drew a crumpled piece of newspaper from his pocket and laid it on the table.

‘That is the latest portrait of Captain Sessle as it appeared in the Daily Leader.’

‘Just so,’ said Tuppence. ‘I wonder someone doesn’t sue these newspapers sometimes. You can see it’s a man and that’s all.’

‘When I said the Sunningdale Mystery, I should have said the so-called Sunningdale Mystery,’ went on Tommy rapidly.

‘A mystery to the police perhaps, but not to an intelligent mind.’

‘Tie another knot,’ said Tuppence.

‘I don’t know how much of the case you remember,’ continued Tommy quietly.

‘All of it,’ said Tuppence, ‘but don’t let me cramp your style.’

‘It was just over three weeks ago,’ said Tommy, ‘that the gruesome discovery was made on the famous golf links.

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