The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie

towards the boy and dropped her voice: “I want a word with you, Albert.”
    Albert ceased operations on the fittings and opened his mouth slightly.
    “Look! Do you know what this is?” With a dramatic gesture she flung back the left side of her coat and exposed a small enamelled badge. It was extremely unlikely that Albert would have any knowledge of it - indeed, it would have been fatal for Tuppence's plans, since the badge in question was the device of a local training corps originated by the archdeacon in the early days of the war. Its presence in Tuppence's coat was due to the fact that she had used it for pinning in some flowers a day or two before. But Tuppence had sharp eyes, and had noted the corner of a threepenny detective novel protruding from Albert's pocket, and the immediate enlargement of his eyes told her that her tactics were good, and that the fish would rise to the bait.
    “American Detective Force!” she hissed.
    Albert fell for it.
    “Lord!” he murmured ecstatically.
    Tuppence nodded at him with the air of one who has established a thorough understanding.
    “Know who I'm after?” she inquired genially.
    Albert, still round-eyed, demanded breathlessly:
    “One of the flats?”
    Tuppence nodded and jerked a thumb up the stairs.
    “No. 20. Calls herself Vandemeyer. Vandemeyer! Ha! ha!”
    Albert's hand stole to his pocket.
    “A crook?” he queried eagerly.
    “A crook? I should say so. Ready Rita they call her in the States.”
    “Ready Rita,” repeated Albert deliriously. “Oh, ain't it just like the pictures!”
    It was. Tuppence was a great frequenter of the kinema.
    “Annie always said as how she was a bad lot,” continued the boy.
    “Who's Annie?” inquired Tuppence idly.
    “'Ouse-parlourmaid. She's leaving today. Many's the time Annie's said to me: 'Mark my words, Albert, I wouldn't wonder if the police was to come after her one of these days.' Just like that. But she's a stunner to look at, ain't she?”
    “She's some peach,” allowed Tuppence carelessly. “Finds it useful in her lay-out, you bet. Has she been wearing any of the emeralds, by the way?”
    “Emeralds? Them's the green stones, isn't they?”
    Tuppence nodded.
    “That's what we're after her for. You know old man Rysdale?”
    Albert shook his head.
    “Peter B. Rysdale, the oil king?”
    “It seems sort of familiar to me.”
    “The sparklers belonged to him. Finest collection of emeralds in the world. Worth a million dollars!”
    “Lumme!” came ecstatically from Albert. “It sounds more like the pictures every minute.”
    Tuppence smiled, gratified at the success of her efforts.
    “We haven't exactly proved it yet. But we're after her. And -” she produced a long-drawn-out wink - “I guess she won't get away with the goods this time.”
    Albert uttered another ejaculation indicative of delight.
    “Mind you, sonny, not a word of this,” said Tuppence suddenly. “I guess I oughtn't to have put you wise, but in the States we know a real smart lad when we see one.”
    “I'll not breathe a word,” protested Albert eagerly. “Ain't there anything I could do? A bit of shadowing, maybe, or such like?”
    Tuppence affected to consider, then shook her head.
    “Not at the moment, but I'll bear you in mind, son. What's this about the girl you say is leaving?”
    “Annie? Regular turn up, they 'ad. As Annie said, servants is some one nowadays, and to be treated accordingly, and, what with her passing the word round, she won't find it so easy to get another.”
    “Won't she?” said Tuppence thoughtfully. “I wonder -”
    An idea was dawning in her brain. She thought a minute or two, then tapped Albert on the shoulder.
    “See here, son, my brain's got busy. How would it be if you mentioned that you'd got a young cousin, or a friend of yours had, that might suit the place. You get me?”
    “I'm there,” said Albert instantly. “You leave it to me, miss, and I'll fix the whole thing up in two