Partners in Crime Read Online Free Page B

cropper over that bus ticket, didn’t I?’
    ‘You did,’ said Tuppence. ‘If I were you I shouldn’t try too much on that girl–she’s as sharp as a needle. She’s unhappy too, poor devil.’
    ‘I suppose you know all about her already,’ said Tommy with sarcasm, ‘simply from looking at the shape of her nose!’
    ‘I’ll tell you my idea of what we shall find at The Laurels,’ said Tuppence, quite unmoved. ‘A household of snobs, very keen to move in the best society; the father, if there is a father, is sure to have a military title. The girl falls in with their way of life and despises herself for doing so.’
    Tommy took a last look at the books now neatly arranged upon the shelf.
    ‘I think,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘that I shall be Thorndyke today.’
    ‘I shouldn’t have thought there was anything medico-legal about this case,’ remarked Tuppence.
    ‘Perhaps not,’ said Tommy. ‘But I’m simply dying to use that new camera of mine! It’s supposed to have the most marvellous lens that ever was or could be.’
    ‘I know those kind of lenses,’ said Tuppence. ‘By the time you’ve adjusted the shutter and stopped down and calculated the exposure and kept your eye on the spirit level, your brain gives out, and you yearn for the simple Brownie.’
    ‘Only an unambitious soul is content with the simple Brownie.’
    ‘Well, I bet I shall get better results with it than you will.’
    Tommy ignored the challenge.
    ‘I ought to have a “Smoker’s Companion”,’ he said regretfully. ‘I wonder where one buys them?’
    ‘There’s always the patent corkscrew Aunt Araminta gave you last Christmas,’ said Tuppence helpfully.
    ‘That’s true,’ said Tommy. ‘A curious-looking engine of destruction I thought it at the time, and rather a humorous present to get from a strictly tee-total aunt.’
    ‘I,’ said Tuppence, ‘shall be Polton.’
    Tommy looked at her scornfully.
    ‘Polton indeed. You couldn’t begin to do one of the things that he does.’
    ‘Yes, I can,’ said Tuppence. ‘I can rub my hands together when I’m pleased. That’s quite enough to get on with. I hope you’re going to take plaster casts of footprints?’
    Tommy was reduced to silence. Having collected the corkscrew they went round to the garage, got out the car and started for Wimbledon.
    The Laurels was a big house. It ran somewhat to gables and turrets, had an air of being very newly painted and was surrounded with neat flower beds filled with scarlet geraniums.
    A tall man with a close-cropped white moustache, and an exaggeratedly martial bearing opened the door before Tommy had time to ring.
    ‘I’ve been looking out for you,’ he explained fussily. ‘Mr Blunt, is it not? I am Colonel Kingston Bruce. Will you come into my study?’
    He let them into a small room at the back of the house.
    ‘Young St Vincent was telling me wonderful things about your firm. I’ve noticed your advertisements myself. This guaranteed twenty-four hours’ service of yours–a marvellous notion. That’s exactly what I need.’
    Inwardly anathematising Tuppence for her irresponsibility in inventing this brilliant detail, Tommy replied: ‘Just so, Colonel.’
    ‘The whole thing is most distressing, sir, most distressing.’
    ‘Perhaps you would kindly give me the facts,’ said Tommy, with a hint of impatience.
    ‘Certainly I will–at once. We have at the present moment staying with us a very old and dear friend of ours, Lady Laura Barton. Daughter of the late Earl of Carrowway. The present earl, her brother, made a striking speech in the House of Lords the other day. As I say, she is an old and dear friend of ours. Some American friends of mine who have just come over, the Hamilton Betts, were most anxious to meet her. “Nothing easier,” I said. “She is staying with me now. Come down for the weekend.” You know what Americans are about titles, Mr Blunt.’
    ‘And others beside Americans sometimes, Colonel