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Authors: Agatha Christie
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Ball.’
Tommy groaned.
‘No, no, Tuppence. Not the Three Arts Ball. I’m not young enough. I assure you I’m not young enough.’
‘When I was a nice young girl,’ said Tuppence, ‘I was brought up to believe that men–especially husbands–were dissipated beings, fond of drinking and dancing and staying up late at night. It took an exceptionally beautiful and clever wife to keep them at home. Another illusion gone! All the wives I know are hankering to go out and dance, and weeping because their husbands will wear bedroom slippers and go to bed at half-past nine. And you do dance so nicely, Tommy dear.’
‘Gently with the butter, Tuppence.’
‘As a matter of fact,’ said Tuppence, ‘it’s not purely for pleasure that I want to go. I’m intrigued by this advertisement.’
She picked up the Daily Leader again and read it out.
‘I should go three hearts. 12 tricks. Ace of Spades. Necessary to finesse the King.’
‘Rather an expensive way of learning bridge,’ was Tommy’s comment.
‘Don’t be an ass. That’s nothing to do with bridge. You see, I was lunching with a girl yesterday at the Ace of Spades. It’s a queer little underground den in Chelsea, and she told me that it’s quite the fashion at these big shows to trundle round there in the course of the evening for bacon and eggs and Welsh rarebits–Bohemian sort of stuff. It’s got screened-off booths all around it. Pretty hot place, I should say.’
‘And your idea is –?’
‘Three hearts stands for the Three Arts Ball, tomorrow night, 12 tricks is twelve o’clock, and the Ace of Spades is the Ace of Spades.’
‘And what about its being necessary to finesse the King?’
‘Well, that’s what I thought we’d find out.’
‘I shouldn’t wonder if you weren’t right, Tuppence,’ said Tommy magnanimously. ‘But I don’t quite see why you want to butt in upon other people’s love affairs.’
‘I shan’t butt in. What I’m proposing is an interesting experiment in detective work. We need practice.’
‘Business is certainly not too brisk,’ agreed Tommy. ‘All the same, Tuppence, what you want is to go to the Three Arts Ball and dance! Talk of red herrings.’
Tuppence laughed shamelessly.
‘Be a sport, Tommy. Try and forget you’re thirty-two and have got one grey hair in your left eyebrow.’
‘I was always weak where women were concerned,’ murmured her husband. ‘Have I got to make an ass of myself in fancy dress?’
‘Of course, but you can leave that to me. I’ve got a splendid idea.’
Tommy looked at her with some misgiving. He was always profoundly mistrustful of Tuppence’s brilliant ideas.
When he returned to the flat on the following evening, Tuppence came flying out of her bedroom to meet him.
‘It’s come,’ she announced.
‘What’s come?’
‘The costume. Come and look at it.’
Tommy followed her. Spread out on the bed was a complete fireman’s kit with shining helmet.
‘Good God!’ groaned Tommy. ‘Have I joined the Wembley fire brigade?’
‘Guess again,’ said Tuppence. ‘You haven’t caught the idea yet. Use your little grey cells, mon ami . Scintillate, Watson. Be a bull that has been more than ten minutes in the arena.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Tommy. ‘I begin to see. There is a dark purpose in this. What are you going to wear, Tuppence?’
‘An old suit of your clothes, an American hat and some horn spectacles.’
‘Crude,’ said Tommy. ‘But I catch the idea. McCarty incog. And I am Riordan.’
‘That’s it. I thought we ought to practise American detective methods as well as English ones. Just for once I am going to be the star, and you will be the humble assistant.’
‘Don’t forget,’ said Tommy warningly, ‘that it’s always an innocent remark by the simple Denny that puts McCarty on the right track.’
But Tuppence only laughed. She was in high spirits.
It was a most successful evening. The crowds, the music, the fantastic
Tommy groaned.
‘No, no, Tuppence. Not the Three Arts Ball. I’m not young enough. I assure you I’m not young enough.’
‘When I was a nice young girl,’ said Tuppence, ‘I was brought up to believe that men–especially husbands–were dissipated beings, fond of drinking and dancing and staying up late at night. It took an exceptionally beautiful and clever wife to keep them at home. Another illusion gone! All the wives I know are hankering to go out and dance, and weeping because their husbands will wear bedroom slippers and go to bed at half-past nine. And you do dance so nicely, Tommy dear.’
‘Gently with the butter, Tuppence.’
‘As a matter of fact,’ said Tuppence, ‘it’s not purely for pleasure that I want to go. I’m intrigued by this advertisement.’
She picked up the Daily Leader again and read it out.
‘I should go three hearts. 12 tricks. Ace of Spades. Necessary to finesse the King.’
‘Rather an expensive way of learning bridge,’ was Tommy’s comment.
‘Don’t be an ass. That’s nothing to do with bridge. You see, I was lunching with a girl yesterday at the Ace of Spades. It’s a queer little underground den in Chelsea, and she told me that it’s quite the fashion at these big shows to trundle round there in the course of the evening for bacon and eggs and Welsh rarebits–Bohemian sort of stuff. It’s got screened-off booths all around it. Pretty hot place, I should say.’
‘And your idea is –?’
‘Three hearts stands for the Three Arts Ball, tomorrow night, 12 tricks is twelve o’clock, and the Ace of Spades is the Ace of Spades.’
‘And what about its being necessary to finesse the King?’
‘Well, that’s what I thought we’d find out.’
‘I shouldn’t wonder if you weren’t right, Tuppence,’ said Tommy magnanimously. ‘But I don’t quite see why you want to butt in upon other people’s love affairs.’
‘I shan’t butt in. What I’m proposing is an interesting experiment in detective work. We need practice.’
‘Business is certainly not too brisk,’ agreed Tommy. ‘All the same, Tuppence, what you want is to go to the Three Arts Ball and dance! Talk of red herrings.’
Tuppence laughed shamelessly.
‘Be a sport, Tommy. Try and forget you’re thirty-two and have got one grey hair in your left eyebrow.’
‘I was always weak where women were concerned,’ murmured her husband. ‘Have I got to make an ass of myself in fancy dress?’
‘Of course, but you can leave that to me. I’ve got a splendid idea.’
Tommy looked at her with some misgiving. He was always profoundly mistrustful of Tuppence’s brilliant ideas.
When he returned to the flat on the following evening, Tuppence came flying out of her bedroom to meet him.
‘It’s come,’ she announced.
‘What’s come?’
‘The costume. Come and look at it.’
Tommy followed her. Spread out on the bed was a complete fireman’s kit with shining helmet.
‘Good God!’ groaned Tommy. ‘Have I joined the Wembley fire brigade?’
‘Guess again,’ said Tuppence. ‘You haven’t caught the idea yet. Use your little grey cells, mon ami . Scintillate, Watson. Be a bull that has been more than ten minutes in the arena.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Tommy. ‘I begin to see. There is a dark purpose in this. What are you going to wear, Tuppence?’
‘An old suit of your clothes, an American hat and some horn spectacles.’
‘Crude,’ said Tommy. ‘But I catch the idea. McCarty incog. And I am Riordan.’
‘That’s it. I thought we ought to practise American detective methods as well as English ones. Just for once I am going to be the star, and you will be the humble assistant.’
‘Don’t forget,’ said Tommy warningly, ‘that it’s always an innocent remark by the simple Denny that puts McCarty on the right track.’
But Tuppence only laughed. She was in high spirits.
It was a most successful evening. The crowds, the music, the fantastic
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