Agatha Christie - THE SECRET ADVERSARY

Agatha Mary Clarissa, Lady Mallowan, DBE (15 September 1890 12January 1976), commonly known as Agatha Christie, was an Englishcrime fiction writer. She also wrote romance novels under the nameMary Westmacott, but is best remembered for her 80 detective novelsand her successful West End theatre plays. Her works, particularlyfeaturing detectives Hercule Poirot or Miss Jane Marple, have givenher the title the 'Queen of Crime' and made her one of the mostimportant and innovative writers in the development of the genre.Christie has been called by the Guinness Book of World Records,among others the best-selling writer of books of all time, andthe best-selling writer of any kind together with WilliamShakespeare. Only the Bible sold more with about 6 billion copies.An estimated four billion copies of her novels have been sold.UNESCO states that she is currently the most translated individualauthor in the world with only the collective corporate works ofWalt Disney Productions superseding her. As an example of her broadappeal, she is the all-time best-selling author in France, withover 40 million copies sold in French (as of 2003) versus 22million for Emile Zola, the nearest contender. Her stage play, TheMousetrap, holds the record for the longest initial run in theworld, opening at the Ambassadors Theatre in London on 25 November1952, and as of 2007 is still running after more than 20,000performances. In 1955, Christie was the first recipient of theMystery Writers of America's highest honor, the Grand Master Award,and in the same year, Witness for the Prosecution was given anEdgar Award by the MWA, for Best Play. Most of her books and shortstories have been filmed, some many times over (Murder on theOrient Express, Death on the Nile, 4.50 From Paddington), and manyhave been adapted for television, radio, video games and comics. In1998, the control of the rights to most of the literary works ofAgatha Christie passed to the company Chorion, when it purchased amajority 64% share in Agatha Christie Limited. Source:Wikipedia

IT was 2 p.m. on the afternoon of May 7, 1915. The Lusitania hadbeen struck by two torpedoes in succession and was sinking rapidly,while the boats were being launched with all possible speed. Thewomen and children were being lined up awaiting their turn. Somestill clung desperately to husbands and fathers; others clutchedtheir children closely to their breasts. One girl stood alone,slightly apart from the rest. She was quite young, not more thaneighteen. She did not seem afraid, and her grave, steadfast eyeslooked straight ahead.

"I beg your pardon."

A man's voice beside her made her start and turn. She hadnoticed the speaker more than once amongst the first-classpassengers. There had been a hint of mystery about him which hadappealed to her imagination. He spoke to no one. If anyone spoke tohim he was quick to rebuff the overture. Also he had a nervous wayof looking over his shoulder with a swift, suspicious glance.

She noticed now that he was greatly agitated. There were beadsof perspiration on his brow. He was evidently in a state ofovermastering fear. And yet he did not strike her as the kind ofman who would be afraid to meet death!

"Yes?" Her grave eyes met his inquiringly.

He stood looking at her with a kind of desperateirresolution.

"It must be!" he muttered to himself. "Yesit is the only way."Then aloud he said abruptly: "You are an American?"

"Yes."

"A patriotic one?"

The girl flushed.

"I guess you've no right to ask such a thing! Of course Iam!"

"Don't be offended. You wouldn't be if you knew how much therewas at stake. But I've got to trust some oneand it must be awoman."

"Why?"

"Because of 'women and children first.' " He looked round andlowered his voice. "I'm carrying papersvitally important papers.They may make all the difference to the Allies in the war. Youunderstand? These papers have GOT to be saved! They've more chancewith you than with me. Will you take them?"

The girl held out her hand.

"WaitI must warn you. There may be a riskif I've beenfollowed. I don't think I have, but one never knows. If so, therewill be danger. Have you the nerve to go through with it?"

The girl smiled.

"I'll go through with it all right. And I'm real proud to bechosen! What am I to do with them afterwards?"

"Watch the newspapers! I'll advertise in the personal column ofthe Times, beginning 'Shipmate.' At the end of three days ifthere's nothingwell, you'll know I'm down and out. Then take thepacket to the American Embassy, and deliver it into theAmbassador's own hands. Is that clear?"

"Quite clear."

"Then be readyI'm going to say good-bye." He took her hand inhis. "Good-bye. Good luck to you," he said in a louder tone.

Her hand closed on the oilskin packet that had lain in hispalm.

The Lusitania settled with a more decided list to starboard. Inanswer to a quick command, the girl went forward to take her placein the boat.

"TOMMY, old thing!"

"Tuppence, old bean!"

The two young people greeted each other affectionately, andmomentarily blocked the Dover Street Tube exit in doing so. Theadjective "old" was misleading. Their united ages would certainlynot have totalled forty-five.

"Not seen you for simply centuries," continued the young man."Where are you off to? Come and chew a bun with me. We're getting abit unpopular hereblocking the gangway as it were. Let's get outof it."

The girl assenting, they started walking down Dover Streettowards Piccadilly.

"Now then," said Tommy, "where shall we go?"

The very faint anxiety which underlay his tone did not escapethe astute ears of Miss Prudence Cowley, known to her intimatefriends for some mysterious reason as "Tuppence." She pounced atonce.

"Tommy, you're stony!"

"Not a bit of it," declared Tommy unconvincingly. "Rolling incash."

"You always were a shocking liar," said Tuppence severely,"though you did once persuade Sister Greenbank that the doctor hadordered you beer as a tonic, but forgotten to write it on thechart. Do you remember?"

Tommy chuckled.

"I should think I did! Wasn't the old cat in a rage when shefound out? Not that she was a bad sort really, old MotherGreenbank! Good old hospitaldemobbed like everything else, Isuppose?"

Tuppence sighed.

"Yes. You too?"

Tommy nodded.

"Two months ago."

"Gratuity?" hinted Tuppence.

"Spent."

"Oh, Tommy!"

"No, old thing, not in riotous dissipation. No such luck! Thecost of livingordinary plain, or garden living nowadays is, Iassure you, if you do not know"

"My dear child," interrupted Tuppence, "there is nothing I doNOT know about the cost of living. Here we are at Lyons', and wewill each of us pay for our own. That's it!" And Tuppence led theway upstairs.