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.