BLINDMAN'S BUFF
"Right," said Tommy, and replaced the receiver on its hook.
Then he turned to Tuppence.
"That was the Chief. Seems to have got the wind up about us. It appears
that the parties we're after have got wise to the fact that I'm not the
genuine Mr. Theodore Blunt. We're to expect excitements at any minute.
The Chief begs you as a favor to go home and stay at home, and not mix
yourself up in it any more. Apparently the hornet's nest we've stirred
up is bigger than anyone imagined."
"All that about my going home is nonsense," said Tuppence decidedly.
"Who is going to look after you if I go home? Besides, I like
excitement. Business hasn't been very brisk just lately."
"Well, one can't have murders and robberies every day," said Tommy. "Be
reasonable. Now my idea is this. When business is slack, we ought to do
a certain amount of home exercises every day."
"Lie on our backs and wave our feet in the air? That sort of thing?"
"Don't be so literal in your interpretation. When I say exercises,
I mean exercises in the detective art. Reproductions of the Great
Masters. For instance--"
From the drawer beside him, Tommy took out a formidable dark green
eyeshade covering both eyes. This he adjusted with some care. Then he
drew a watch from his pocket.
"I broke the glass this morning," he remarked. "That paved the way for
its being the crystalless watch which my sensitive fingers touch so
lightly."
"Be careful," said Tuppence. "You nearly had the short hand off then."
"Give me your hand," said Tommy. He held it, one finger feeling for the
pulse. "Ah! the keyboard of silence. This woman has _not_ got heart
disease."
"I suppose," said Tuppence, "that you are Thornley Colton?"
"Just so," said Tommy. "The blind Problemist. And you're thingummybob,
the black-haired apple-cheeked secretary--"
"The bundle of baby clothes picked up on the banks of the English
river," finished Tuppence.
"And Albert is the Fee, alias Shrimp."
"We must teach him to say 'Gee,'" said Tuppence. "And his voice isn't
shrill. It's dreadfully hoarse."
"Against the wall by the door," said Tommy, "you perceive the slim
hollow cane which held in my sensitive hand tells me so much."
He rose and cannoned into a chair.
"Damn!" said Tommy. "I forgot that chair was there."
"It must be beastly to be blind," said Tuppence with feeling.
"Rather," agreed Tommy heartily. "I'm sorrier for all those poor devils
who lost their eyesight in the War than for anyone else. But they say
that when you live in the dark you really do develop special senses.
That's what I want to try and see if one couldn't do. It would be jolly
handy to train oneself to be some good in the dark. Now, Tuppence, be a
good Sydney Thames. How many steps to that cane?"
Tuppence made a desperate guess.
"Three straight, five left," she hazarded.
Tommy paced it uncertainly, Tuppence interrupting with a cry of warning
as she realised that the fourth step left would take him slap against
the wall.
"There's a lot in this," said Tuppence. "You've no idea how difficult
it is to judge how many steps are needed."
"It's jolly interesting," said Tommy. "Call Albert in. I'm going to
shake hands with you both, and see if I know which is which."
"All right," said Tuppence, "but Albert must wash his hands first.
They're sure to be sticky from those beastly acid drops he's always
eating."
Albert, introduced to the game, was full of interest.
Tommy, the hand shakes completed, smiled complacently.
"The keyboard of silence cannot lie," he murmured. "The first was
Albert, the second, you, Tuppence."
"Wrong!" shrieked Tuppence. "Keyboard of silence indeed! You went by my
wedding ring. And I put that on Albert's finger."
Various other experiments were carried out, with indifferent success.
"But it's coming," declared Tommy. "One can't expect to be infallible
straight away. I tell you what. It's just lunch time. You and I will
go to the Blitz, Tuppence. Blind man and his keeper. Some jolly useful
tips to be picked up there."
"I say, Tommy, we shall get into trouble."
"No, we shan't. I shall behave quite like the little gentleman. But I
bet you that by the end of luncheon I shall be startling you."
All protests being thus overborne, a quarter of an hour later saw Tommy
and Tuppence comfortably ensconced at a corner table in the Gold Room
of the Blitz.
Tommy ran his fingers lightly over the Menu.
"Pilaff de Homard and Grilled Chicken for me," he murmured.
Tuppence also made her selection, and the waiter moved away.
"So far, so good," said Tommy. "Now for a more ambitious venture. What
beautiful legs that girl in the short skirt has--the one who has just
come in."
"How was that done, Thorn?"
"Beautiful legs impart a particular vibration to the floor which is
received by my hollow cane. Or, to be honest, in a big Restaurant there
is nearly always a girl with beautiful legs standing in the doorway
looking for her friends, and with short skirts going about, she'd be
sure to take advantage of them."
The meal proceeded.
"The man two tables from us is a very wealthy profiteer, I fancy," said
Tommy carelessly.
"Pretty good," said Tuppence appreciatively. "I don't follow that one."
"I shan't tell you how it's done every time. It spoils my show. The
head waiter is serving champagne three tables off to the right. A stout
woman in black is about to pass our table."
"Tommy, how can you--"
"Aha! You're beginning to see what I can do. That's a nice girl in
brown just getting up at the table behind you."
"Snoo!" said Tuppence. "It's a young man in grey."
"Oh!" said Tommy, momentarily disconcerted.
And at that moment two men who had been sitting at a table not far
away, and who had been watching the young pair with keen interest, got
up and came across to the corner table.
"Excuse me," said the elder of the two, a tall well dressed man with an
eyeglass and a small grey moustache. "But you have been pointed out to
me as Mr. Theodore Blunt. May I ask if that is so?"
Tommy hesitated a minute, feeling somewhat at a disadvantage. Then he
bowed his head.
"That is so. I am Mr. Blunt."
"What an unexpected piece of good fortune! Mr. Blunt, I was going to
call at your offices after lunch. I am in trouble--very grave trouble.
But--excuse me--you have had some accident to your eyes?"
"My dear sir," said Tommy in a melancholy voice. "I am
blind--completely blind."
"What?"
"You are astonished. But surely you have heard of blind detectives?"
"In fiction. Never in real life. And I have certainly never heard that
you were blind."
"Many people are not aware of the fact," murmured Tommy. "I am wearing
an eyeshade to-day to save my eyeballs from glare. But without it,
quite a host of people have never suspected my infirmity--if you call
it that. You see, my eyes cannot mislead me. But enough of all this.
Shall we go at once to my office, or will you give me the facts of the
case here? The latter would be best, I think."
A waiter brought up two extra chairs, and the two men sat down. The
second man, who had not yet spoken, was shorter, sturdy in build and
very dark.
"It is a matter of great delicacy," said the older man dropping his
voice confidentially. He looked uncertainly at Tuppence. Mr. Blunt
seemed to feel the glance.
"Let me introduce my confidential secretary," he said. "Miss Ganges.
Found on the banks of the Indian river--a mere bundle of baby
clothes. Very sad history. Miss Ganges is my eyes. She accompanies me
everywhere."
The stranger acknowledged the introduction with a bow.
"Then I can speak out. Mr. Blunt, my daughter, a girl of sixteen, has
been abducted under somewhat peculiar circumstances. I discovered this
half an hour ago. The circumstances of the case were such that I dared
not call in the police. Instead I rang up your office. They told me you
were out to lunch, but would be back by half past two. I came in here
with my friend Captain Harker--"
The short man jerked his head and muttered something.
"By the greatest good fortune you happened to be lunching here also. We
must lose no time. You must return with me to my house immediately."
Tommy demurred cautiously.
"I can be with you in half an hour. I must return to my office first."
Captain Harker, turning to glance at Tuppence, may have been surprised
to see a half smile lurking for a moment at the corners of her mouth.
"No, no, that will not do. You must return with me." The grey haired
man took a card from his pocket and handed it across the table. "That
is my name."
Tommy fingered it.
"My fingers are hardly sensitive enough for that," he said with a
smile, and handed it to Tuppence, who read out in a low voice: "The
Duke of Blairgowrie."
She looked with great interest at their client. The Duke of Blairgowrie
was well known to be a most haughty and inaccessible nobleman who had
married as a wife the daughter of a Chicago pork butcher, many years
younger than himself, and of a lively temperament that augured ill for
their future together. There had been rumors of disaccord lately.
"You will come at once, Mr. Blunt?" said the Duke, with a tinge of
acerbity in his manner.
Tommy yielded to the inevitable.
"Miss Ganges and I will come with you," he said quietly. "You will
excuse my just stopping to drink a large cup of black coffee? They will
serve it immediately. I am subject to very distressing headaches, the
result of my eye trouble, and the coffee steadies my nerves."
He called a waiter and gave the order. Then he spoke to Tuppence.
"Miss Ganges--I am lunching here to-morrow with the French Prefect of
Police. Just note down the luncheon, and give to the head waiter with
instructions to reserve me my usual table. I am assisting the French
Police in an important case. _The fee_--" he paused--"is considerable.
Are you ready, Miss Ganges?"
"Quite ready," said Tuppence, her stylo poised.
"We will start with that special salad of Shrimps that they have here.
Then to follow--let me see, _to follow_--Yes. Omelette Blitz, and
perhaps a couple of _Tournedos à l'Étranger_."
He looked up, catching the Duke's eye.
"You will forgive me, I hope," he murmured. "Ah! yes, _Soufflé en
surprise_. That will conclude the repast. A most interesting man, the
French prefect. You know him, perhaps?"
The other replied in the negative, as Tuppence rose and went to speak
to the head waiter. Presently she returned, just as the coffee was
brought.
Tommy drank a large cup of it, sipping it slowly, then rose.
"My cane, Miss Ganges? Thank you. Directions, please?"
It was a moment of agony for Tuppence.
"One right, eighteen straight. About the fifth step, there is a waiter
serving the table on your left."
Swinging his cane jauntily, Tommy set out. Tuppence kept close beside
him, and endeavored unobtrusively to steer him. All went well until
they were just passing out through the doorway. A man entered rather
hurriedly, and before Tuppence could warn the blind Mr. Blunt, he had
barged right into the newcomer. Explanations and apologies ensued.
At the door of the Blitz a smart landaulette was waiting. The Duke
himself aided Mr. Blunt to get in.
"Your car here, Harker?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Yes. Just round the corner."
"Take Miss Ganges in it, will you."
Before another word could be said, he had jumped in beside Tommy, and
the car rolled smoothly away.
"A very delicate matter," murmured the Duke. "I can soon acquaint you
with all the details."
Tommy raised his hand to his head.
"I can remove my eyeshade now," he observed pleasantly. "It was only
the glare of artificial light in the Restaurant necessitated its use."
But his arm was jerked down sharply. At the same time he felt something
hard and round being poked between his ribs. "No, my dear Mr. Blunt,"
said the Duke's voice--but a voice that seemed suddenly different.
"You will not remove that eyeshade. You will sit perfectly still and
not move in any way. You understand? I don't want this pistol of mine
to go off. You see, I happen not to be the Duke of Blairgowrie at
all. I borrowed his name for the occasion, knowing that you would not
refuse to accompany such a celebrated client. I am something much more
prosaic--a ham merchant who has lost his wife."
He felt the start the other gave.
"That tells you something," he laughed. "My dear young man, you have
been incredibly foolish. I'm afraid--I'm very much afraid that your
activities will be curtailed in future."
He spoke the last words with a sinister relish.
Tommy sat motionless. He did not reply to the other's taunts.
Presently the car slackened its pace and drew up.
"Just a minute," said the pseudo Duke. He twisted a handkerchief deftly
into Tommy's mouth, and drew up his scarf over it.
"In case you should be foolish enough to think of calling for help," he
explained suavely.
The door of the car opened and the chauffeur stood ready. He and his
master took Tommy between them and propelled him rapidly up some steps
and in at the door of a house.
The door closed behind them. There was a rich oriental smell in the
air. Tommy's feet sank deep into velvet pile. He was propelled in the
same fashion up a flight of stairs and into a room which he judged
to be at the back of the house. Here the two men bound his hands
together. The chauffeur went out again, and the other removed the gag.
"You may speak freely now," he announced pleasantly. "What have you to
say for yourself, young man?"
Tommy cleared his throat and eased the aching corners of his mouth.
"I hope you haven't lost my hollow cane," he said mildly. "It cost me a
lot to have that made."
"You have nerve," said the other, after a minute's pause. "Or else you
are just a fool. Don't you understand that I have got you--got you in
the hollow of my hand? That you're absolutely in my power? That no one
who knows you is ever likely to see you again?"
"Can't we cut out the melodrama?" asked Tommy plaintively. "Have I got
to say 'You villain, I'll foil you yet?' That sort of thing is so very
much out of date."
"What about the girl?" said the other, watching him. "Doesn't that move
you?"
"Putting two and two together during my enforced silence just now,"
said Tommy, "I have come to the inevitable conclusion that that chatty
lad Harker is another of the doers of desperate deeds, and that
therefore my unfortunate secretary will shortly join this little tea
party."
"Right as to one point, but wrong on the other. Mrs. Beresford--you see
I know all about you--Mrs. Beresford will not be brought here. That is
a little precaution I took. It occurred to me that just probably your
friends in high places might be keeping you shadowed. In that case, by
dividing the pursuit, you could not both be trailed. I should still
keep one in my hands. I am waiting now--"
He broke off, as the door opened. The chauffeur spoke.
"We've not been followed, sir. It's all clear."
"Good. You can go, Gregory."
The door closed again.
"So far, so good," said the 'Duke.' "And now what are we to do with
you, Mr. Beresford Blunt?"
"I wish you'd take this confounded eyeshade off me," said Tommy.
"I think not. With it on, you are truly blind--without it you would see
as well as I do--and that would not suit my little plan. For I have a
plan. You are fond of sensational fiction, Mr. Blunt. This little game
that you and your wife were playing to-day proves that. Now I too have
arranged a little game--something rather ingenious, as I am sure you
will admit when I explain it to you.
"You see, this floor on which you are standing is made of metal,
and here and there on its surface are little projections. I touch
a switch--so." A sharp click sounded. "Now the electric current is
switched on. To tread on one of those little knobs now means--death!
You understand? If you could see ... but you cannot see. You are in the
dark. That is the game--Blindman's Buff with death. If you can reach
the door in safety--freedom! But I think that long before you reach it
you will have trodden on one of the danger spots. And that will be very
amusing--for me!"
He came forward and unbound Tommy's hands. Then he handed him his cane
with a little ironical bow.
"The blind Problemist. Let us see if he will solve this problem. I
shall stand here with my pistol ready. If you raise your hands to your
head to remove that eyeshade, I shoot. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly clear," said Tommy. He was rather pale, but determined. "I
haven't got a dog's chance, I suppose?"
"Oh! that--" the other shrugged his shoulders.
"Damned ingenious devil, aren't you?" said Tommy. "But you've forgotten
one thing. May I light a cigarette, by the way? My poor little heart's
going pit a pat."
"You may light a cigarette--but no tricks. I am watching you, remember,
with the pistol ready."
"I'm not a performing dog," said Tommy. "I don't do tricks." He
extracted a cigarette from his case, then felt for a match box. "It's
all right. I'm not feeling for a revolver. But you know well enough
that I'm not armed. All the same, as I said before, you've forgotten
one thing."
"What is that?"
Tommy took a match from the box, and held it ready to strike.
"I'm blind and you can see. That's admitted. The advantage is with you.
But supposing we were both in the dark--eh? Where's your advantage
then?"
He struck the match.
The "Duke" laughed contemptuously.
"Thinking of shooting at the switch of the lights? Plunging the room
into darkness? It can't be done."
"Just so," said Tommy. "I can't give you darkness. But extremes meet,
you know. What about _light_?"
As he spoke, he touched the match to something he held in his hand, and
threw it down upon the table.
A blinding glare filled the room.
Just for a minute, blinded by the intense white light, the "Duke"
blinked and fell back, his pistol hand lowered.
He opened his eyes again to feel something sharp pricking his breast.
"Drop that pistol," ordered Tommy. "Drop it quick. I agree with you
that a hollow cane is a pretty rotten affair. So I didn't get one. A
good _sword stick_ is a very useful weapon, though. Don't you think so?
Almost as useful as magnesium wire. _Drop that pistol._"
Obedient to the necessity of that sharp point, the man dropped it.
Then, with a laugh, he sprang back.
"But I still have the advantage," he mocked. "For I can see, and you
cannot."
"That's where you're wrong," said Tommy. "I can see perfectly. This
eyeshade's a fake. I was going to put one over on Tuppence. Make one or
two bloomers to begin with, and then put in some perfectly marvellous
stuff towards the end of the lunch. Why, bless you, I could have walked
to the door and avoided all the knobs with perfect ease. But I didn't
trust you to play a sporting game. You'd never have let me get out of
this alive. Careful now--"
For, with his face distorted with rage, the "Duke" sprang forward,
forgetting in his fury to look where he put his feet.
There was a sudden blue crackle of flame, and he swayed for a minute,
then fell like a log. A faint odor of singed flesh filled the room,
mingling with a stronger smell of ozone.
"Whew," said Tommy.
He wiped his face.
Then, moving gingerly, and with every precaution, he reached the wall,
and touched the switch he had seen the other manipulate.
He crossed the room to the door, opened it carefully, and looked out.
There was no one about. He went down the stairs and out through the
front door.
Safe in the street, he looked up at the house with a shudder, noting
the number. Then he hurried to the nearest telephone box.
There was a moment of agonising anxiety, and then a well known voice
spoke.
"Tuppence, thank goodness!"
"Yes, I'm all right. I got all your points. The Fee, Shrimp, Come to
the Blitz and follow the two strangers. Albert got there in time, and
when we went off in separate cars, followed me in a taxi, saw where
they took me, and rang up the police."
"Albert's a good lad," said Tommy. "Chivalrous. I was pretty sure he'd
choose to follow you. But I've been worried, all the same. I've got
lots to tell you. I'm coming straight back now. And the first thing
I shall do when I get back is to write a thumping big cheque for St.
Dunstan's. Lord, it must be awful not to be able to see."