Black Coffee

AgathaChristie
BlackCoffee
adaptedasanovelby
CharlesOsborne
Contents
CoverTitlePageForewordChapter1Chapter2Chapter3Chapter4Chapter5Chapter6Chapter7Chapter8Chapter9Chapter10Chapter11Chapter12Chapter13Chapter14Chapter15Chapter16Chapter17Chapter18Chapter19Chapter20E-BookExtrasThePoirotsEssaybyCharlesOsborneAbouttheAuthorTheAgathaChristieCollectionCopyrightAboutthePublisherForeword
ItwasalmostcertainlybecauseofherdissatisfactionwithAlibi,someoneelse’sstageadaptionin1928ofhernovel,TheMurderofRogerAckroyd,thatmygrandmotherAgathaChristiedecidedtowriteaplayofherown,whichissomethingshehadnotpreviouslyattempted.BlackCoffee,featuringherfavouritedetective,HerculePoirot,wasfinishedbythesummerof1929.ButwhenAgathashowedittoheragent,headvisedhernottobothersubmittingittoanytheatreas,inhisopinion,itwasnotgoodenoughtobestaged.Fortunately,afriendwhowasconnectedwiththeatricalmanagementpersuadedhertoignoresuchanegativeadvice,andtheplaywasacceptedforproductionin1930attheEmbassyTheatreinSwissCottage,London.
BlackCoffeewasfavourablereceived,andinAprilofthefollowingyeartransferredtotheWestEnd,whereithadasuccessfulrunofseveralmonthsattheStMartin’sTheatre(wherealaterChristieplay,TheMousetrap,beganamuchlongerrunin1952).In1930,Poirothadbeenplayedbyapopularactorofthetime,FrancisL.Sullivan,withJohnBoxerashisassociateCaptainHastings;JoyceBlandplayedLuciaAmory,andShakespearianactorDonaldWolfitwasDrCarelli.IntheWestEndproduction,FrancisL.SullivanwasstillPoirot,butHastingswasnowplayedbyRolandCulver,andDrCarellibyDinoGalvani.
Somemonthslater,BlackCoffeewasfilmedinEnglandattheTwickenhamStudios,directedbyLeslieHiscottandstarringAustinTrevor,whohadalreadyplayedPoirotinthefilmversionofAlibi.Theplayremainedafavouritewithrepertorycompaniesforsomeyears,andin1956CharlesOsborne,thenearninghislivingasayoungactor,foundhimselfplayingDrCarelliinBlackCoffeeinasummerseasonatTunbridgeWells.
Nearlyfortyyearslater,afterhehadintheinterveningyearsnotonlybecomeaworldauthorityonoperabuthadalsowrittenasplendidbookentitledTheLifeandCrimesofAgathaChristie,Osbornerememberedtheplay.HesuggestedtoAgathaChristieLimited(whocontrolthecopyrightofherworks)that,twentyyearsaftertheauthor’sdeath,itwouldbemarvelloustogivetheworldanewAgathaChristiecrimenovel.Weagreedenthusiastically,andtheresultisthisHerculePoirotmurdermystery,whichtomereadslikeauthentic,vintageChristie.IfeelsureAgathawouldbeproudtohavewrittenit.
MathewPrichard
Chapter1
HerculePoirotsatatbreakfastinhissmallbutagreeablycosyflatinWhitehallMansions.Hehadenjoyedhisbriocheandhiscupofhotchocolate.Unusually,forhewasacreatureofhabitandrarelyvariedhisbreakfastroutine,hehadaskedhisvalet,George,tomakehimasecondcupofchocolate.Whilehewasawaitingit,heglancedagainatthemorning’spostwhichlayonhisbreakfasttable.
Meticulouslytidyasalways,hehadplacedthediscardedenvelopesinoneneatpile.Theyhadbeenopenedverycarefully,withthepaper-knifeintheformofaminiatureswordwhichhisoldfriendHastingshadgivenhimforabirthdaymanyyearsago.Asecondpilecontainedthosecommunicationshefoundofnointerest–circulars,mostly–whichinamomenthewouldaskGeorgetodisposeof.Thethirdpileconsistedofthoseletterswhichwouldrequireananswerofsomekind,oratleastanacknowledgement.Thesewouldbedealtwithafterbreakfast,andinanycasenotbeforeteno’clock.Poirotthoughtitnotquiteprofessionaltobeginaroutineworkingdaybeforeten.Whenhewasonacase–ah,well,ofcoursethatwasdifferent.HerememberedthatonceheandHastingshadsetoutwellbeforedawninorderto–
But,no,Poirotdidnotwanthisthoughtstodwellonthepast.Thehappypast.Theirlastcase,involvinganinternationalcrimeorganizationknownas‘TheBigFour’,hadbeenbroughttoasatisfactoryconclusion,andHastingshadreturnedtotheArgentine,hiswifeandhisranch.ThoughhisoldfriendwastemporarilybackinLondononbusinessconnectedwiththeranch,itwashighlyunlikelythatPoirotandhewouldfindthemselvesworkingtogetheragaintosolveacrime.WasthatwhyHerculePoirotwasfeelingrestlessonthisfinespringmorninginMay1934?Ostensiblyretired,hehadbeenluredoutofthatretirementmorethanoncewhenanespeciallyinterestingproblemhadbeenpresentedtohim.Hehadenjoyedbeingonthescentagain,withHastingsbyhissidetoactasakindofsoundingboardforhisideasandtheories.ButnothingofprofessionalinteresthadpresenteditselftoPoirotforseveralmonths.Weretherenoimaginativecrimesandcriminalsanymore?Wasitallviolenceandbrutality,thekindofsordidmurderorrobberywhichitwasbeneathhis,Poirot’s,dignitytoinvestigate?
Histhoughtswereinterruptedbythearrival,silentlyathiselbow,ofGeorgewiththatsecondandwelcomecupofchocolate.WelcomenotonlybecausePoirotwouldenjoytherich,sweettaste,butalsobecauseitwouldenablehimtopostpone,forafewmoreminutes,therealizationthattheday,afinesunnymorning,stretchedbeforehimwithnothingmoreexcitinginprospectthanaconstitutionalintheparkandawalkthroughMayfairtohisfavouriterestaurantinSohowherehewouldlunchaloneon–what,now?–perhapsalittlepatétobegin,andthenthesolebonnefemme,followedby–
HebecameawarethatGeorge,havingplacedthechocolateonthetable,wasaddressinghim.TheimpeccableandimperturbableGeorge,anintenselyEnglish,ratherwooden-facedindividual,hadbeenwithPoirotforsometimenow,andwasallthathewishedinthewayofavalet.Completelyincurious,andextraordinarilyreluctanttoexpressapersonalopiniononanysubject,GeorgewasamineofinformationabouttheEnglisharistocracy,andasfanaticallyneatasthegreatdetectivehimself.Poirothadmorethanoncesaidtohim,‘Youpressadmirablythetrousers,George,buttheimagination,youpossessitnot.’Imagination,however,HerculePoirotpossessedinabundance.Theabilitytopress
‘–andsoItooktheliberty,sir,ofpromisingthatyouwouldreturnthecallthismorning,’Georgewassaying.
‘Idobegyourpardon,mydearGeorge,’repliedPoirot.‘Myattentionwaswandering.Someonehastelephoned,yousay?’
‘Yes,sir.Itwaslastnight,sir,whileyouwereoutatthetheatrewithMrsOliver.Ihadretiredtobedbeforeyouarrivedhome,andthoughtitunnecessarytoleaveamessageforyouatthatlatehour.’
‘Whowasitwhocalled?’
‘ThegentlemansaidhewasSirClaudAmory,sir.Helefthistelephonenumber,whichwouldappeartobesomewhereinSurrey.Thematter,hesaid,wasasomewhatdelicateone,andwhenyourangyouwerenottogiveyournametoanyoneelse,butweretoinsistonspeakingtoSirClaudhimself.’
‘Thankyou,George.Leavethetelephonenumberonmydesk,’saidPoirot.‘IshallringSirClaudafterIhaveperusedthismorning’sTimes.Itisstillatrifleearlyinthemorningfortelephoning,evenonsomewhatdelicatematters.’
Georgebowedanddeparted,whilePoirotslowlyfinishedhiscupofchocolateandthenrepairedtothebalconywiththatmorning’snewspaper.
Afewminuteslater,TheTimeshadbeenlaidaside.Theinternationalnewswas,asusual,depressing.ThatterribleHitlerhadturnedtheGermancourtsintobranchesoftheNaziparty,theFascistshadseizedpowerinBulgariaand,worstofall,inPoirot’sowncountry,Belgium,forty-twominerswerefeareddeadafteranexplosionataminenearMons.Thehomenewswaslittlebetter.Despitethemisgivingsofofficials,womencompetitorsatWimbledonweretobeallowedtowearshortsthissummer.Norwastheremuchcomfortintheobituaries,forpeoplePoirot’sageandyoungerseemedintentondying.
Hisnewspaperabandoned,Poirotlaybackinhiscomfortablewickerchair,hisfeetonasmallstool.SirClaudAmory,hethoughttohimself.Thenamestruckachord,surely?Hehadhearditsomewhere.Yes,thisSirClaudwaswell-knowninsomesphereorother.Butwhatwasit?Washeapolitician?Abarrister?Aretiredcivilservant?SirClaudAmory.Amory.
Thebalconyfacedthemorningsun,andPoirotfounditwarmenoughtobaskinforamomentortwo.Soonitwouldbecometoowarmforhim,forhewasnosun-worshipper.‘Whenthesundrivesmeinside,’hemused,‘thenIwillexertmyselfandconsulttheWho’sWho.IfthisSirClaudisapersonofsomedistinction,hewillsurelybeincludedinthatsoadmirablevolume.Ifheisnot–?’Thelittledetectivegaveanexpressiveshrugofhisshoulders.Aninveteratesnob,hewasalreadypredisposedinSirClaud’sfavourbyvirtueofhistitle.IfheweretobefoundinWho’sWho,avolumeinwhichthedetailsofPoirot’sowncareercouldalsobediscovered,thenperhapsthisSirClaudwassomeonewithavalidclaimonhis,HerculePoirot’s,timeandattention.
AquickeningofcuriosityandasuddencoolbreezecombinedtosendPoirotindoors.Enteringhislibrary,hewenttoashelfofreferencebooksandtookdownthethickredvolumewhosetitle,Who’sWho,wasembossedingoldonitsspine.Turningthepages,hecametotheentryhesought,andreadaloud.
AMORY,SirClaud(Herbert);Kt.1927;b.24Nov.1878.m.1907,HelenGraham(d.1929);ones.Educ:WeymouthGram.Sch.;King’sColl.,London.ResearchPhysicistGECLaboratories,1905;RAEFarnborough(RadioDept.),1916;AirMin.ResearchEstablishment,Swanage,1921;demonstratedanewPrincipleforacceleratingparticles:thetravellingwavelinearaccelerator,1924.AwardedMonroeMedalofPhysicalSoc.Publications:papersinlearnedjournals.Address:Abbot’sCleve,nr.MarketCleve,Surrey.T:MarketCleve314.Club:Athenaeum.‘Ah,yes,’Poirotmused.‘Thefamousscientist.’HerememberedaconversationhehadhadsomemonthspreviouslywithamemberofHisMajesty’sgovernment,afterPoirothadretrievedsomemissingdocumentswhosecontentscouldhaveprovedembarrassingtothegovernment.Theyhadtalkedofsecurity,andthepoliticianhadadmittedthatsecuritymeasuresingeneralwerenotsufficientlystringent.‘Forinstance,’hehadsaid,‘whatSirClaudAmoryisworkingonnowisofsuchfantasticimportanceinanyfuturewar–butherefusestoworkunderlaboratoryconditionswhereheandhisinventioncanbeproperlyguarded.Insistsonworkingaloneathishouseinthecountry.Nosecurityatall.Frightening.’
‘Iwonder,’PoirotthoughttohimselfashereplacedWho’sWhoonthebookshelf,‘Iwonder–canSirClaudwanttoengageHerculePoirottobeatiredoldwatchdog?Theinventionsofwar,thesecretweapons,theyarenotforme.IfSirClaud–’
Thetelephoneinthenextroomrang,andPoirotcouldhearGeorgeansweringit.Amomentlater,thevaletappeared.‘It’sSirClaudAmoryagain,sir,’hesaid.
Poirotwenttothephone.‘’Allo.ItisHerculePoirotwhospeaks,’heannouncedintothemouthpiece.
‘Poirot?We’venotmet,thoughwehaveacquaintancesincommon.MynameisAmory,ClaudAmory–’
‘Ihaveheardofyou,ofcourse,SirClaud,’Poirotresponded.
‘Lookhere,Poirot.I’vegotadevilishlytrickyproblemonmyhands.Orrather,Imighthave.Ican’tbecertain.I’vebeenworkingonaformulatobombardtheatom–Iwon’tgointodetails,buttheMinistryofDefenceregardsitasoftheutmostimportance.Myworkisnowcomplete,andI’veproducedaformulafromwhichanewanddeadlyexplosivecanbemade.Ihavereasontosuspectthatamemberofmyhouseholdisattemptingtostealtheformula.Ican’tsayanymorenow,butIshouldbegreatlyobligedifyouwouldcomedowntoAbbot’sClevefortheweekend,asmyhouse-guest.IwantyoutotaketheformulabackwithyoutoLondon,andhanditovertoacertainpersonattheMinistry.TherearegoodreasonswhyaMinistrycouriercan’tdothejob.Ineedsomeonewhoisostensiblyanunobtrusive,unscientificmemberofthepublicbutwhoisalsoastuteenough–’
SirClaudtalkedon.HerculePoirot,glancingacrossatthereflectioninthemirrorofhisbald,egg-shapedheadandhiselaboratelywaxedmoustache,toldhimselfthathehadneverbefore,inalongcareer,beenconsideredunobtrusive,nordidhesoconsiderhimself.Butaweekendinthecountryandachancetomeetthedistinguishedscientistcouldbeagreeable,as,nodoubt,couldthesuitablyexpressedthanksofagratefulgovernment–andmerelyforcarryinginhispocketfromSurreytoWhitehallanobscure,ifdeadly,scientificformula.
‘Ishallbedelightedtoobligeyou,mydearSirClaud,’heinterrupted.‘IshallarrangetoarriveonSaturdayafternoon,ifthatisconvenienttoyou,andreturntoLondonwithwhateveryouwishmetotakewithme,onMondaymorning.Ilookforwardgreatlytomakingyouracquaintance.’
Curious,hethought,ashereplacedthereceiver.ForeignagentsmightwellbeinterestedinSirClaud’sformula,butcoulditreallybethecasethatsomeoneinthescientist’sownhousehold–?Ahwell,doubtlessmorewouldberevealedduringthecourseoftheweekend
‘George,’hecalled,‘pleasetakemyheavytweedsuitandmydinnerjacketandtrouserstothecleaners.ImusthavethembackbyFriday,asIamgoingtotheCountryfortheWeekend.’HemadeitsoundliketheSteppesofCentralAsiaandforalifetime.
Then,turningtothephone,hedialledanumberandwaitedforafewmomentsbeforespeaking.‘MydearHastings,’hebegan,‘wouldyounotliketohaveafewdaysawayfromyourbusinessconcernsinLondon?Surreyisverypleasantatthistimeoftheyear…’
Chapter2
I
SirClaudAmory’shouse,Abbot’sCleve,stoodjustontheoutskirtsofthesmalltown–orratherovergrownvillage–ofMarketCleve,abouttwenty-fivemilessouth-eastofLondon.Thehouseitself,alargebutarchitecturallynondescriptVictorianmansion,wassetamidanattractivefewacresofgentlyundulatingcountryside,hereandthereheavilywooded.Thegraveldrive,fromthegatehouseuptothefrontdoorofAbbot’sCleve,twisteditswaythroughtreesanddenseshrubbery.Aterraceranalongthebackofthehouse,withalawnslopingdowntoasomewhatneglectedformalgarden.
OntheFridayeveningtwodaysafterhistelephoneconversationwithHerculePoirot,SirClaudsatinhisstudy,asmallbutcomfortablyfurnishedroomonthegroundfloorofthehouse,ontheeastside.Outside,thelightwasbeginningtofade.SirClaud’sbutler,Tredwell,atall,lugubrious-lookingindividualwithanimpeccablycorrectmanner,hadsoundedthegongfordinnertwoorthreeminutesearlier,andnodoubtthefamilywasnowassemblinginthedining-roomontheothersideofthehall.
SirClauddrummedonthedeskwithhisfingers,hishabitwhenforcinghimselftoaquickdecision.Amaninhisfifties,ofmediumheightandbuild,withgreyinghairbrushedstraightbackfromahighforehead,andeyesofapiercinglycoldblue,henowworeanexpressioninwhichanxietywasmixedwithpuzzlement.
Therewasadiscreetknockonthestudydoor,andTredwellappearedinthedoorway.‘Excuseme,SirClaud.Iwonderedifperhapsyouhadnotheardthegong–’
‘Yes,yes,Tredwell,that’sallright.WouldyoutellthemIshallbeinveryshortly?SayI’mcaughtonthephone.Infact,Iamabouttomakeaquickphonecall.Youmayaswellbeginserving.’
Tredwellwithdrewsilently,andSirClaud,takingadeepbreath,pulledthetelephonetowardshimself.Extractingasmalladdress-bookfromadrawerofhisdesk,heconsulteditbrieflyandthenpickedupthereceiver.Helistenedforamomentandthenspoke.
‘ThisisMarketClevethree-one-four.IwantyoutogetmeaLondonnumber.’Hegavethenumber,thensatback,waiting.Thefingersofhisrighthandbegantodrumnervouslyonthedesk.
II
Severalminuteslater,SirClaudAmoryjoinedthedinner-party,takinghisplaceattheheadofthetablearoundwhichthesixotherswerealreadyseated.OnSirClaud’srightsathisniece,BarbaraAmory,withRichard,hercousinandtheonlysonofSirClaud,nexttoher.OnRichardAmory’srightwasahouse-guest,DrCarelli,anItalian.Continuinground,attheoppositeendofthetabletoSirClaud,satCarolineAmory,hissister.Amiddle-agedspinster,shehadrunSirClaud’shouseforhimeversincehiswifediedsomeyearsearlier.EdwardRaynor,SirClaud’ssecretary,satonMissAmory’sright,withLucia,RichardAmory’swife,betweenhimandtheheadofthehousehold.
Dinner,onthisoccasion,wasnotatallfestive.CarolineAmorymadeseveralattemptsatsmall-talkwithDrCarelli,whoansweredherpolitelyenoughwithoutofferingmuchinthewayofconversationhimself.WhensheturnedtoaddressaremarktoEdwardRaynor,thatnormallypoliteandsociallysuaveyoungmangaveanervousstart,mumbledanapologyandlookedembarrassed.SirClaudwasastaciturnashenormallywasatmeal-times,orperhapsevenmoreso.RichardAmorycastanoccasionalanxiousglanceacrossthetableathiswife,Lucia.BarbaraAmoryaloneseemedingoodspirits,andmadespasmodiclightconversationwithherAuntCaroline.
ItwaswhileTredwellwasservingthedessertcoursethatSirClaudsuddenlyaddressedthebutler,speakingloudlyenoughforallatthedinner-tabletohearhiswords.
‘Tredwell,’hesaid,‘wouldyouringJackson’sgarageinMarketCleve,andaskthemtosendacaranddrivertothestationtomeettheeight-fiftyfromLondon?Agentlemanwhoisvisitingusafterdinnerwillbecomingbythattrain.’
‘Verywell,SirClaud,’repliedTredwellasheleft.HewasbarelyoutoftheroomwhenLucia,withamurmuredapology,gotupabruptlyfromthetableandhurriedout,almostcollidingwiththebutlerashewasabouttoclosethedoorbehindhim.
Crossingthehall,shehurriedalongthecorridorandproceededtothelargeroomatthebackofthehouse.Thelibrary–asitwasgenerallycalled–servednormallyasadrawing-roomaswell.Itwasacomfortableroomratherthananelegantone.Frenchwindowsopenedfromitontotheterrace,andanotherdoorledtoSirClaud’sstudy.Onthemantelpiece,abovealargeopenfireplace,stoodanold-fashionedclockandsomeornaments,aswellasavaseofspillsforuseinlightingthefire.
Thelibraryfurnitureconsistedofatallbookcasewithatinboxonthetopofit,adeskwithatelephoneonit,astool,asmalltablewithagramophoneandrecords,asettee,acoffeetable,anoccasionaltablewithbook-endsandbooksonit,twouprightchairs,anarm-chair,andanothertableonwhichstoodaplantinabrasspot.Thefurnitureingeneralwasold-fashioned,butnotsufficientlyoldordistinguishedtobeadmiredasantique.
Lucia,abeautifulyoungwomanoftwenty-five,hadluxuriantdarkhairwhichflowedtohershoulders,andbrowneyeswhichcouldflashexcitinglybutwerenowsmoulderingwithasuppressedemotionnoteasytodefine.Shehesitatedinthemiddleoftheroom,thencrossedtothefrenchwindowsand,partingthecurtainsslightly,lookedoutatthenight.Utteringabarelyaudiblesigh,shepressedherbrowtothecoolglassofthewindow,andstoodlostinthought.
MissAmory’svoicecouldbeheardoutsideinthehall,calling,‘Lucia–Lucia–whereareyou?’Amomentlater,MissAmory,asomewhatfussyelderlyladyafewyearsolderthanherbrother,enteredtheroom.GoingacrosstoLucia,shetooktheyoungerwomanbythearmandpropelledhertowardsthesettee.
‘There,mydear.Yousitdownhere,’shesaid,pointingtoacornerofthesettee.‘You’llbeallrightinaminuteortwo.’
Asshesat,LuciagaveawansmileofgratitudetoCarolineAmory.‘Yes,ofcourse,’sheagreed.‘It’spassingalready,infact.’ThoughshespokeEnglishimpeccably,perhapstooimpeccably,anoccasionalinflectionbetrayedthatEnglishwasnothernativetongue.
‘Ijustcameoverallfaint,that’sall,’shecontinued.‘Howridiculousofme.I’veneverdonesuchathingbefore.Ican’timaginewhyitshouldhavehappened.Pleasegoback,AuntCaroline.Ishallbequiteallrighthere.’Shetookahandkerchieffromherhandbag,asCarolineAmorylookedonsolicitously.Dabbingathereyeswithit,shethenreturnedthehandkerchieftoherbag,andsmiledagain.‘Ishallbequiteallright,’sherepeated.‘Really,Ishall.’
MissAmorylookedunconvinced.‘You’vereallynotlookedwell,dear,alltheevening,youknow,’sheremarked,anxiouslystudyingLucia.
‘Haven’tI?’
‘No,indeed,’repliedMissAmory.Shesatonthesettee,closetoLucia.‘Perhapsyou’vecaughtalittlechill,dear,’shetwitteredanxiously.‘OurEnglishsummerscanberathertreacherous,youknow.NotatalllikethehotsuninItaly,whichiswhatyou’remoreusedto.Sodelightful,Italy,Ialwaysthink.’
‘Italy,’murmuredLuciawithafarawaylookinhereyes,assheplacedherhandbagbesideheronthesettee.‘Italy–’
‘Iknow,mychild.Youmustmissyourowncountrybadly.Itmustseemsuchadreadfulcontrast–theweatherforonething,andthedifferentcustoms.Andwemustseemsuchacoldlot.Now,Italians–’
‘No,never.InevermissItaly,’criedLucia,withavehemencethatsurprisedMissAmory.‘Never.’
‘Oh,comenow,child,there’snodisgraceinfeelingalittlehomesickfor–’
‘Never!’Luciarepeated.‘IhateItaly.Ialwayshatedit.ItislikeheavenformetobehereinEnglandwithallyoukindpeople.Absoluteheaven!’
‘It’sreallyverysweetofyoutosaythat,mydear,’saidCarolineAmory,‘thoughI’msureyou’reonlybeingpolite.It’struewe’vealltriedtomakeyoufeelhappyandathomehere,butitwouldbeonlynaturalforyoutoyearnforItalysometimes.Andthen,nothavinganymother–’
‘Please–please–’,Luciainterruptedher,‘donotspeakofmymother.’
‘No,ofcoursenot,dear,ifyou’dratherIdidn’t.Ididn’tmeantoupsetyou.ShallIgetyousomesmelling-salts?I’vegotsomeinmyroom.’
‘No,thankyou,’Luciareplied.‘Really,I’mperfectlyallrightnow.’
‘It’snotroubleatall,youknow,’CarolineAmorypersisted.‘I’vegotsomeverynicesmelling-salts,alovelypinkcolour,andinthemostcharminglittlebottle.Andverypungent.Salammoniac,youknow.Orisitspiritsofsalts?Icanneverremember.Butanywayit’snottheoneyoucleanthebathwith.’
Luciasmiledgently,butmadenoreply.MissAmoryhadrisen,andapparentlycouldnotdecidewhethertogoinsearchofsmelling-saltsornot.Shemovedindecisivelytothebackofthesettee,andrearrangedthecushions.‘Yes,Ithinkitmustbeasuddenchill,’shecontinued.‘Youwerelookingtheabsolutepictureofhealththismorning.PerhapsitwastheexcitementofseeingthisItalianfriendofyours,DrCarelli?Heturnedupsosuddenlyandunexpectedly,didn’the?Itmusthavegivenyouquiteashock.’
Lucia’shusband,Richard,hadenteredthelibrarywhileCarolineAmorywasspeaking.EvidentlyMissAmorydidnotnoticehim,forshecouldnotunderstandwhyherwordsappearedtohaveupsetLucia,wholeanedback,closedhereyesandshivered.‘Oh,mydear,whatisit?’askedMissAmory.‘Areyoucomingoverfaintagain?’
RichardAmoryclosedthedoorandapproachedthetwowomen.AconventionallyhandsomeyoungEnglishmanofaboutthirty,withsandyhair,hewasofmediumheight,withasomewhatthick-set,muscularfigure.‘Dogoandfinishyourdinner,AuntCaroline,’hesaidtoMissAmory.‘Luciawillbeallrightwithme.I’lllookafterher.’
MissAmorystillappearedirresolute.‘Oh,it’syou,Richard.Well,perhapsI’dbettergoback,’shesaid,takingareluctantsteportwointhedirectionofthedoorleadingtothehall.‘Youknowhowyourfatherdoeshateadisturbanceofanykind.Andparticularlywithaguesthere.It’snotasthoughitwassomeonewhowasaclosefriendofthefamily.’
SheturnedbacktoLucia.‘Iwasjustsaying,dear,wasn’tI,whataverystrangethingitwasthatDrCarellishouldturnupinthewayhedid,withnoideathatyouwerelivinginthispartoftheworld.Yousimplyranintohiminthevillage,andinvitedhimhere.Itmusthavebeenagreatsurpriseforyou,mydear,mustn’tit?’
‘Itwas,’repliedLucia.
‘Theworldreallyissuchaverysmallplace,I’vealwayssaidso,’MissAmorycontinued.‘Yourfriendisaverygood-lookingman,Lucia.’
‘Doyouthinkso?’
‘Foreign-looking,ofcourse,’MissAmoryconceded,‘butdistinctlyhandsome.AndhespeaksEnglishverywell.’
‘Yes,Isupposehedoes.’
MissAmoryseemeddisinclinedtoletthetopicgo.‘Didyoureallyhavenoidea,’sheasked,‘thathewasinthispartoftheworld?’
‘Nonewhatsoever,’repliedLuciaemphatically.
RichardAmoryhadbeenwatchinghiswifeintently.Nowhespokeagain.‘Whatadelightfulsurpriseitmusthavebeenforyou,Lucia,’hesaid.
Hiswifelookedupathimquickly,butmadenoreply.MissAmorybeamed.‘Yes,indeed,’shecontinued.‘DidyouknowhimwellinItaly,mydear?Washeagreatfriendofyours?Isupposehemusthavebeen.’
TherewasasuddenbitternessinLucia’svoice.‘Hewasneverafriend,’shesaid.
‘Oh,Isee.Merelyanacquaintance.Butheacceptedyourgenerousinvitationtostay.Ioftenthinkforeignersareinclinedtobealittlepushy.Oh,Idon’tmeanyou,ofcourse,dear–’MissAmoryhadthegracetopauseandblush.‘Imean,well,you’rehalfEnglishinanycase.’Shelookedarchlyathernephew,andcontinued,‘Infact,she’squiteEnglishnow,isn’tshe,Richard?’
RichardAmorydidnotrespondtohisaunt’sarchness,butmovedtowardsthedoorandopenedit,asthoughininvitationtoMissAmorytoreturntotheothers.
‘Well,’saidthatladyasshemovedreluctantlytothedoor,‘ifyou’resureIcan’tdoanythingmore–’
‘No,no.’Richard’stonewasasabruptashiswords,asheheldthedooropenforher.Withanuncertaingesture,andalastnervoussmileatLucia,MissAmoryleft.
Emittingasighofrelief,Richardshutthedoorafterher,andcamebacktohiswife.‘Natter,natter,natter,’hecomplained.‘Ithoughtshe’dnevergo.’
‘Shewasonlytryingtobekind,Richard.’
‘Oh,Idaresayshewas.Butshetriesadamnsighttoohard.’
‘Ithinkshe’sfondofme,’murmuredLucia.‘What?Oh,ofcourse.’RichardAmory’stonewasabstracted.Hestood,observinghiswifeclosely.Forafewmomentstherewasaconstrainedsilence.Then,movingnearertoher,RichardlookeddownatLucia.‘You’resurethere’snothingIcangetyou?’
Lucialookedupathim,forcingasmile.‘Nothing,really,thankyou,Richard.Dogobacktothedining-room.Ireallyamperfectlyallrightnow.’
‘No,’repliedherhusband.‘I’llstaywithyou.’
‘ButI’dratherbealone.’
Therewasapause.ThenRichardspokeagain,ashemovedbehindthesettee.‘Cushionsallright?Wouldyoulikeanotheroneunderyourhead?’
‘IamquitecomfortableasIam,’Luciaprotested.‘Itwouldbenicetohavesomeair,though.Couldyouopenthewindow?’
Richardmovedtothefrenchwindowsandfumbledwiththecatch.‘Damn!’heexclaimed.‘Theoldboy’slockeditwithoneofthosepatentcatchesofhis.Youcan’topenitwithoutthekey.’
Luciashruggedhershoulders.‘Oh,well,’shemurmured,‘itreallydoesn’tmatter.’
Richardcamebackfromthefrenchwindows,andsatinoneofthechairsbythetable.Heleanedforward,restinghiselbowsonhisthighs.‘Wonderfulfellow,theoldman.Alwaysinventingsomethingorother.’
‘Yes,’repliedLucia.‘Hemusthavemadealotofmoneyoutofhisinventions.’
‘Potsofit,’saidRichard,gloomily.‘Butitisn’tthemoneythatappealstohim.They’reallthesame,thesescientists.Alwaysonthetrackofsomethingutterlyimpracticablethatcanbeofnoearthlyinteresttoanyoneotherthanthemselves.Bombardingtheatom,forheaven’ssake!’
‘Butallthesame,heisagreatman,yourfather.’
‘Isupposehe’soneoftheleadingscientistsoftheday,’saidRichardgrudgingly.‘Buthecan’tseeanypointofviewexcepthisown.’Hespokewithincreasingirritation.‘He’streatedmedamnedbadly.’
‘Iknow,’Luciaagreed.‘Hekeepsyouhere,chainedtothishouse,almostasthoughyouwereaprisoner.Whydidhemakeyougiveupthearmyandcometolivehere?’
‘Isuppose,’saidRichard,‘thathethoughtIcouldhelphiminhiswork.ButheoughttohaveknownthatIshouldbeofnoearthlyusetohiminthatway.Isimplyhaven’tgotthebrainsforit.’HemovedhischairalittleclosertoLucia,andleanedforwardagain.‘MyGod,Lucia,itmakesmefeelprettydesperate,sometimes.Thereheis,rollinginmoney,andhespendseverypennyonthosedamnedexperimentsofhis.You’dthinkhe’dletmehavesomethingofwhatwillbeminesomeday,inanycase,andallowmetogetfreeofthisplace.’
Luciasatupright.‘Money!’sheexclaimedbitterly.‘Everythingcomesroundtothat.Money!’
‘I’mlikeaflycaughtinaspider’sweb,’Richardcontinued.‘Helpless.Absolutelyhelpless.’
Lucialookedathimwithanimploringeagerness.‘Oh,Richard,’sheexclaimed.‘SoamI.’
Herhusbandlookedatherwithalarm.HewasabouttospeakwhenLuciacontinued,‘SoamI.Helpless.AndIwanttogetout.’Sherosesuddenly,andmovedtowardshim,speakingexcitedly.‘Richard,forGod’ssake,beforeit’stoolate,takemeaway!’
‘Away?’Richard’svoicewasemptyanddespairing.‘Awaywhere?’
‘Anywhere,’repliedLucia,withgrowingexcitement.‘Anywhereintheworld!Butawayfromthishouse.That’stheimportantthing,awayfromthishouse!Iamafraid,Richard,ItellyouI’mafraid.Thereareshadows–’shelookedoverhershoulderasthoughshecouldseethem,‘shadowseverywhere.’
Richardremainedseated.‘Howcanwegoawaywithoutmoney?’heasked.HelookedupatLucia,andcontinued,bitterly,‘Aman’snotmuchgoodtoawomanwithoutmoney,ishe,Lucia?Ishe?’
Shebackedawayfromhim.‘Whydoyousaythat?’sheasked.‘Whatdoyoumean?’
Richardcontinuedtolookatherinsilence,hisfacetenseyetcuriouslyexpressionless.
‘What’sthematterwithyoutonight,Richard?’Luciaaskedhim.‘You’redifferent,somehow–’
Richardrosefromhischair.‘AmI?’
‘Yes–whatisit?’
‘Well–’Richardbegan,andthenstopped.‘Nothing.It’snothing.’
Hestartedtoturnawayfromher,butLuciapulledhimbackandplacedherhandsonhisshoulders.‘Richard,mydear–’shebegan.Hetookherhandsfromhisshoulders.‘Richard,’shesaidagain.
Puttinghishandsbehindhisback,Richardlookeddownather.‘DoyouthinkI’macompletefool?’heasked.‘DoyouthinkIdidn’tseethisoldfriendofyoursslipanoteintoyourhandtonight?’
‘Doyoumeanyouthoughtthat–’
Heinterruptedherfiercely.‘Whydidyoucomeoutfromdinner?Youweren’tfeelingfaint.Thatwasallapretence.Youwantedtobealonetoreadyourpreciousnote.Youcouldn’twait.Youwerenearlymadwithimpatiencebecauseyoucouldn’tgetridofus.FirstAuntCaroline,thenme.’Hiseyeswerecoldwithhurtandangerashelookedather.
‘Richard,’saidLucia,‘you’remad.Oh,it’sabsurd.Youcan’tthinkIcareforCarelli!Canyou?Canyou,really?Mydear,Richard,mydear–it’syou.It’snobodybutyou.Youmustknowthat.’
Richardkepthiseyesfixedonher.‘Whatisinthatnote?’heaskedquietly
‘Nothing–nothingatall.’
‘Thenshowittome.’
‘I–Ican’t,’saidLucia.‘I’vedestroyedit.’
AfrigidsmileappearedanddisappearedonRichard’sface.‘No,youhaven’t,’hesaid.‘Showittome.’
Luciawassilentforamoment.Shelookedathimimploringly.Then,‘Richard,’sheasked,‘can’tyoutrustme?’
‘Icouldtakeitfromyoubyforce,’hemutteredthroughclenchedteeth,asheadvancedasteptowardsher.‘I’vehalfamind–’
Luciabackedawaywithafaintcry,hereyesstillonRichard’sfaceasthoughwillinghimtobelieveher.Suddenlyheturnedaway.‘No,’hesaid,asthoughtohimself.‘Isupposetherearesomethingsonecan’tdo.’Heturnedbacktofacehiswife.‘But,byGod,I’llhaveitoutwithCarelli.’
Luciacaughthisarm,withacryofalarm.‘No,Richard,youmustn’t.Youmustn’t.Don’tdothat,Ibegyou.Don’tdothat.’
‘You’reafraidforyourlover,areyou?’sneeredRichard.
‘He’snotmylover,’Luciaretorted,fiercely.Richardtookherbytheshoulders.‘Perhapsheisn’t–yet,’hesaid.‘Perhapshe–’
Hearingvoicesoutsideinthehall,hestoppedspeaking.Makinganefforttocontrolhimself,hemovedtothefireplace,tookoutacigarette-caseandlighter,andlitacigarette.Asthedoorfromthehallopened,andthevoicesgrewlouder,LuciamovedtothechairRichardhadrecentlyvacated,andsat.Herfacewaswhite,herhandsclaspedtogetherintension.
MissAmoryentered,accompaniedbyhernieceBarbara,anextremelymodernyoungwomanoftwenty-one.Swingingherhandbag,Barbaracrossedtheroomtowardsher.‘Hello,Lucia,areyouallrightnow?’sheasked.
Chapter3
LuciaforcedasmileasBarbaraAmoryapproachedher.‘Yes,thankyou,darling,’shereplied.‘I’mperfectlyallright.Really.’
Barbaralookeddownathercousin’sbeautiful,black-hairedwife.‘NotbrokenanygladtidingstoRichard,haveyou?’sheasked.‘Isthatwhatit’sallabout?’
‘Gladtidings?Whatgladtidings?Idon’tknowwhatyoumean,’protestedLucia.
Barbaraclaspedherarmstogether,andmadearockingmotionasthoughcradlingababy.Lucia’sreactiontothispantomimewasasadsmileandashakeofthehead.MissAmory,however,collapsedinhorrorontoachair.‘Really,Barbara!’sheadmonished.
‘Well,’saidBarbara,‘accidentswillhappen,youknow.’
Herauntshookherheadvigorously.‘Icannotthinkwhatyounggirlsarecomingto,nowadays,’sheannouncedtonooneinparticular.‘Inmyyoungdayswedidnotspeakflippantlyofmotherhood,andIwouldneverhaveallowed–’Shebrokeoffatthesoundofthedooropening,andlookedaroundintimetoseeRichardleavetheroom.‘You’veembarrassedRichard,’shecontinued,addressingBarbara,‘andIcan’tsayI’matallsurprised.’
‘Well,AuntCaroline,’Barbarareplied,‘youareaVictorian,youknow,bornwhentheoldQueenstillhadagoodtwentyyearsoflifeaheadofher.You’rethoroughlyrepresentativeofyourgeneration,andIdaresayIamofmine.’
‘I’minnodoubtastowhichIprefer–’,herauntbegan,onlytobeinterruptedbyBarbara,whochuckledandsaid,‘IthinktheVictoriansweretoomarvellous.Fancytellingchildrenthatbabieswerefoundundergooseberrybushes!Ithinkit’ssweet.’
Shefumbledinherhandbag,foundacigaretteandalighter,andlitthecigarette.ShewasabouttobeginspeakingagainwhenMissAmorysilencedherwithagesture.‘Oh,dostopbeingsilly,Barbara.I’mreallyveryworriedaboutthispoorchildhere,andIwishyouwouldn’tmakefunofme.’
Luciasuddenlybrokedownandbegantoweep.Tryingtowipethetearsfromhereyes,shesaidbetweensobs,‘Youareallsogoodtome.NoonewaseverkindtomeuntilIcamehere,untilImarriedRichard.It’sbeenwonderfultobeherewithyou.Ican’thelpit,I–’
‘There,there,’murmuredMissAmory,risingandgoingtoLucia.Shepattedherontheshoulder.‘There,there,mydear.Iknowwhatyoumean–livingabroadallyourlife–mostunsuitableforayounggirl.Notaproperkindofupbringingatall,andofcoursethecontinentalshavesomeverypeculiarideasabouteducation.There,there.’
Luciastoodup,andlookedabouther,uncertainly.SheallowedMissAmorytoleadhertothesettee,andsatatoneendwhileMissAmorypattedcushionsaroundherandthensatnexttoher.‘Ofcourseyou’reupset,mydear.ButyoumusttrytoforgetaboutItaly.Although,ofcourse,thedearItalianlakesarequitedelightfulinthespring,Ialwaysthink.Verysuitableforholidays,butonewouldn’twanttolivethere,naturally.Now,now,don’tcry,mydear.’
‘Ithinksheneedsagoodstiffdrink,’suggestedBarbara,sittingonthecoffeetableandpeeringcriticallybutnotunsympatheticallyintoLucia’sface.‘Thisisanawfulhouse,AuntCaroline.It’syearsbehindthetimes.Youneverseetheghostofacocktailinit.Nothingbutsherryorwhiskybeforedinner,andbrandyafterwards.Richardcan’tmakeadecentManhattan,andjusttryaskingEdwardRaynorforaWhiskySour.NowwhatwouldreallypullLuciaaroundinnotimewouldbeaSatan’sWhisker.’
MissAmoryturnedashockedcountenanceuponherniece.‘What,’sheenquiredinhorrifiedtones,‘mightaSatan’sWhiskerbe?’
‘It’squitesimpletomake,ifyouhavetheingredients,’repliedBarbara.‘It’smerelyequalpartsofbrandyandcrèmedementhe,butyoumustn’tforgetashakeofredpepper.That’smostimportant.It’sabsolutelysuper,andguaranteedtoputsomepepintoyou.’
‘Barbara,youknowIdisapproveofthesealcoholicstimulants,’MissAmoryexclaimedwithashudder.‘Mydearfatheralwayssaid–’
‘Idon’tknowwhathesaid,’repliedBarbara,‘butabsolutelyeveryoneinthefamilyknowsthatdearoldGreat-UncleAlgernonhadthereputationofbeingathree-bottleman.’
Atfirst,MissAmorylookedasifshemightexplode,butthentheslighttwitchofasmileappearedonherlips,andallshesaidwas,‘Gentlemenaredifferent.’
Barbarawashavingnoneofthis.‘They’renotintheleastdifferent,’shesaid.‘OratanyrateIcan’timaginewhytheyshouldbeallowedtobedifferent.Theysimplygotawaywithitinthosedays.’Sheproducedfromherhandbagasmallmirror,apowder-puffandlipstick.‘Well,howdowelook?’sheaskedherself.‘Oh,myGod!’Andshebeganvigorouslytoapplylipstick.
‘Really,Barbara,’saidheraunt,‘Idowishyouwouldn’tputquitesomuchofthatredstuffonyourlips.It’ssuchaverybrightcolour.’
‘Ihopeso,’repliedBarbara,stillcompletinghermake-up.‘Afterall,itcostsevenandsixpence.’
‘Sevenshillingsandsixpence!Whatadisgracefulwasteofmoney,justfor–for–’
‘For“Kissproof”,AuntCaroline.’
‘Ibegyourpardon?’
‘Thelipstick.It’scalled“Kissproof”.’
Herauntsniffeddisapprovingly.‘Iknow,ofcourse,’shesaid,‘thatone’slipsareinclinedtochapifonehasbeenoutinahighwind,andthatalittlegreaseisadvisable.Lanoline,forinstance.Ialwaysuse–’
Barbarainterruptedher.‘MydearAuntCaroline,takeitfromme,agirlsimplycan’thavetoomuchlipstickon.Afterall,sheneverknowshowmuchofitshe’sgoingtoloseinthetaxicominghome.’Asshespoke,shereplacedthemirror,powder-puffandlipstickinherhandbag.
MissAmorylookedpuzzled.‘Whatdoyoumean,“inthetaxicominghome”?’sheasked.‘Idon’tunderstand.’
Barbararoseand,movingbehindthesettee,leanedovertoLucia.‘Nevermind.Luciaunderstands,don’tyou,mylove?’sheasked,givingLucia’schinalittletickle.
LuciaAmorylookedaround,blankly.‘I’msosorry,’shesaidtoBarbara,‘Ihaven’tbeenlistening.Whatdidyousay?’
FocusingherattentiononLuciaagain,CarolineAmoryreturnedtothesubjectofthatyounglady’shealth.‘Youknow,mydear,’shesaid,‘Ireallyamworriedaboutyou.’ShelookedfromLuciatoBarbara.‘Sheoughttohavesomething,Barbara.Whathavewegotnow?Salvolatile,ofcourse,thatwouldbetheverything.Unfortunately,thatcarelessEllenbrokemybottlethismorningwhenshewasdustinginmyroom.’
Pursingherlips,Barbaraconsideredforamoment.‘Iknow,’sheexclaimed.‘Thehospitalstores!’
‘Hospitalstores?Whatdoyoumean?Whathospitalstores?’MissAmoryasked.
Barbaracameandsatinachairclosetoheraunt.‘Youremember,’sheremindedher.‘AllofEdna’sthings.’
MissAmory’sfacebrightened.‘Ah,yes,ofcourse!’TurningtoLucia,shesaid,‘IwishyouhadmetEdna,myelderniece,Barbara’ssister.ShewenttoIndiawithherhusband–oh,itmusthavebeenaboutthreemonthsbeforeyoucameherewithRichard.Suchacapablegirl,Ednawas.’
‘Mostcapable,’Barbaraconfirmed.‘She’sjusthadtwins.AstherearenogooseberrybushesinIndia,Ithinkshemusthavefoundthemunderadoublemangotree.’
MissAmoryallowedherselfasmile.‘Hush,Barbara,’shesaid.Then,turningbacktoLucia,shecontinued,‘AsIwassaying,dear,Ednatrainedasadispenserduringthewar.Sheworkedatourhospitalhere.WeturnedtheTownHallintoahospital,youknow,duringthewar.Andthenforsomeyearsafterthewar,untilshewasmarried,EdnacontinuedtoworkinthedispensaryattheCountyHospital.Shewasveryknowledgableaboutdrugsandpillsandthatsortofthing.Idaresayshestillis.ThatknowledgemustbeinvaluabletoherinIndia.ButwhatwasIsaying?Oh,yes–whensheleft.Nowwhatdidwedowithallthosebottlesofhers?’
‘Irememberperfectlywell,’saidBarbara.‘AlotofoldthingsofEdna’sfromthedispensarywerebundledintoabox.Theyweresupposedtobesortedoutandsenttohospitals,buteveryoneforgot,oratleastnoonedidanythingaboutit.Theywereputawayintheattic,andtheyonlycametolightagainwhenEdnawaspackingtogotoIndia.They’reupthere–’shegesturedtowardsthebookcase–‘andtheystillhaven’tbeenlookedthroughandsortedout.’
Sheroseand,takingherchairacrosstothebookcase,stoodonitand,reachingup,liftedtheblacktinboxdownfromthetop.
IgnoringLucia’smurmured‘Pleasedon’tbother,darling,Ireallydon’tneedanything’,Barbaracarriedtheboxovertothetableandputitdown.
‘Well,’shesaid,‘atleastwemightaswellhavealookatthethingsnowthatI’vegotthemdown.’Sheopenedthebox.‘Ohdear,it’samotleycollection,’shesaid,takingoutvariousbottlesasshespoke.‘Iodine,Friar’sbalsam,somethingcalled“Tinct.Card.Co”,castoroil.’Shegrimaced.‘Ah,nowwe’recomingtothehotstuff,’sheexclaimed,asshetookoutoftheboxsomesmallbrownglasstubes.‘Atropine,morphine,strychnine,’shereadfromthelabels.‘Becareful,AuntCaroline.Ifyouarousemyfurioustemper,I’llpoisonyourcoffeewithstrychnine,andyou’lldieinthemostawfulagony.’Barbaramadeamock-menacinggestureatheraunt,whowavedherawaywithasnort.
‘Well,there’snothingherewecouldpossiblytryoutonLuciaasatonic,that’sforcertain,’shelaughed,asshebegantopackthebottlesandphialsbackintothetinbox.Shewasholdingatubeofmorphinealoftinherrighthandasthedoortothehallopened,andTredwellusheredinEdwardRaynor,DrCarelli,andSirClaudAmory.SirClaud’ssecretary,EdwardRaynor,enteredfirst,anunremarkable-lookingyoungmaninhislatetwenties.HemovedacrosstoBarbara,andstoodlookingatthebox.‘Hello,MrRaynor.Interestedinpoisons?’sheaskedhimasshecontinuedtopackupthebottles.
DrCarelli,too,approachedthetable.Averydark,swarthyindividualofaboutforty,Carelliworeperfectlyfittingeveningclothes.Hismannerwassuave,andwhenhespokeitwaswiththeslightestItalianaccent.‘Whathavewehere,mydearMissAmory?’hequeried.
SirClaudpausedatthedoortospeaktoTredwell.‘Youunderstandmyinstructions?’heasked,andwassatisfiedbythereply,‘Perfectly,SirClaud.’Tredwelllefttheroom,andSirClaudmovedacrosstohisguest.
‘Ihopeyouwillexcuseme,DrCarelli,’hesaid,‘ifIgostraighttomystudy?Ihaveseveralimportantletterswhichmustgoofftonight.Raynor,willyoucomewithme?’Thesecretaryjoinedhisemployer,andtheywentintoSirClaud’sstudybytheconnectingdoor.Asthedoorclosedbehindthem,Barbarasuddenlydroppedthetubeshehadbeenholding.
Chapter4
DrCarellisteppedforwardquickly,andpickedupthetubeBarbarahaddropped.Glancingatitbeforehandingitbacktoherwithapolitebow,heexclaimed,‘Hello,what’sthis?Morphine!’Hepickedupanotheronefromthetable.‘Andstrychnine!MayIask,mydearyounglady,whereyougotholdoftheselethallittletubes?’Hebegantoexaminethecontentsofthetinbox.
BarbaralookedatthesuaveItalianwithdistaste.‘Thespoilsofwar,’sherepliedshortly,withatightlittlesmile.
Risinganxiously,CarolineAmoryapproachedDrCarelli.‘They’renotreallypoison,arethey,doctor?Imean,theycouldn’tharmanyone,couldthey?’sheasked.‘Thatboxhasbeeninthehouseforyears.Surelyit’sharmless,isn’tit?’
‘Ishouldsay,’repliedCarellidryly,‘that,withthelittlelotyouhavehere,youcouldkill,roughly,twelvestrongmen.Idon’tknowwhatyouregardasharmful.’
‘Oh,goodgracious,’MissAmorygaspedwithhorrorasshemovedbacktoherchair,andsatheavily.
‘Here,forinstance,’continuedCarelli,addressingtheassembledcompany.Hepickedupatubeandreadslowlyfromthelabel.‘“Strychninehydrochloride;onesixteenthofagrain.”Sevenoreightoftheselittletablets,andyouwoulddieaveryunpleasantdeathindeed.Anextremelypainfulwayoutoftheworld.’Hepickedupanothertube.‘“Atropinesulphate.”Now,atropinepoisoningissometimesveryhardtotellfromptomainepoisoning.Itisalsoaverypainfuldeath.’
Replacingthetwotubeshehadhandled,hepickedupanother.‘Nowhere–’hecontinued,nowspeakingveryslowlyanddeliberately,‘herewehavehyoscinehydrobromide,onehundredthofagrain.Thatdoesn’tsoundverypotent,doesit?YetIassureyou,youwouldonlyhavetoswallowhalfofthelittlewhitetabletsinthistube,and–’hemadeagraphicgesture.‘Therewouldbenopain–nopainatall.Justaswiftandcompletelydreamlesssleep,butasleepfromwhichtherewouldbenoawakening.’HemovedtowardsLucia,andheldoutthetubetoher,asthoughinvitinghertoexamineit.Therewasasmileonhisface,butnotinhiseyes.
Luciastaredatthetubeasthoughshewerefascinatedbyit.Stretchingoutahand,shespokeinavoicethatsoundedalmostasthoughitwerehypnotized.‘Aswiftandcompletelydreamlesssleep–’shemurmured,reachingforthetube.
Insteadofgivingittoher,DrCarelliglancedatCarolineAmorywithanalmostquestioninglook.Thatladyshudderedandlookeddistressed,butsaidnothing.Withashrugoftheshoulders,CarelliturnedawayfromLucia,stillholdingthetubeofhyoscinehydrobromide.
Thedoortothehallwayopened,andRichardAmoryentered.Withoutspeaking,hestrolledacrosstothestoolbythedesk,andsatdown.HewasfollowedintotheroombyTredwell,whocarriedatraycontainingajugofcoffeewithcupsandsaucers.Placingthetrayonthecoffeetable,TredwelllefttheroomasLuciamovedtopouroutthecoffee.
BarbarawentacrosstoLucia,tooktwocupsofcoffeefromthetray,andthenmovedovertoRichardtogivehimoneofthem,keepingtheotherforherself.DrCarelli,meanwhile,wasbusyreplacingthetubesinthetinboxonthecentretable.
‘Youknow,’saidMissAmorytoCarelli,‘youmakemyfleshcreep,doctor,withyourtalkofswift,dreamlesssleepandunpleasantdeaths.Isupposethat,beingItalianasyouare,youknowalotaboutpoisons?’
‘Mydearlady,’laughedCarelli,‘isthatnotanextremelyunjust–whatdoyousay–nonsequitur?WhyshouldanItalianknowanymoreaboutpoisonsthananEnglishman?Ihavehearditsaid,’hecontinuedplayfully,‘thatpoisonisawoman’sweapon,ratherthanaman’s.PerhapsIshouldaskyou–?Ah,butperhaps,dearlady,itisanItalianwomanyouwerethinkingof?PerhapsyouwereabouttomentionacertainBorgia.Isthatit,eh?’HetookacupofcoffeefromLuciaatthecoffeetable,andhandedittoMissAmory,returningtotakeanothercupforhimself.
‘LucreziaBorgia–thatdreadfulcreature!Yes,Isupposethat’swhatIwasthinkingof,’admittedMissAmory.‘IusedtohavenightmaresaboutherwhenIwasachild,youknow.Iimaginedherasverypale,buttall,andwithjet-blackhairjustlikeourowndearLucia.’
DrCarelliapproachedMissAmorywiththesugarbowl.Sheshookherheadinrefusal,andhetookthebowlbacktothecoffeetray.RichardAmoryputhiscoffeedown,tookamagazinefromthedeskandbegantobrowsethroughit,ashisauntdevelopedherBorgiatheme.‘Yes,dreadfulnightmaresIusedtohave,’MissAmorywassaying.‘Iwouldbetheonlychildinaroomfullofadults,allofthemdrinkingoutofveryelaborategoblets.Thenthisglamorouswoman–nowIcometothinkofit,shedidlookremarkablylikeyou,Luciadear–wouldapproachmeandforceagobletuponme.Icouldtellbythewayshesmiled,somehow,thatIoughtnottodrink,butIknewIwasn’tgoingtobeabletorefuse.Somehow,shehypnotizedmeintodrinking,andthenIwouldbegintofeeladreadfulburningsensationinmythroat,andIwouldfindmyselffightingforbreath.Andthen,ofcourse,Iwokeup.’
DrCarellihadmovedclosetoLucia.Standinginfrontofher,hegaveanironicbow.‘MydearLucreziaBorgia,’heimplored,‘havemercyonusall.’
LuciadidnotreacttoCarelli’sjoke.Sheappearednottohaveheardhim.Therewasapause.Smilingtohimself,DrCarelliturnedawayfromLucia,drankhiscoffee,andplacedhiscuponthecentretable.Finishinghercoffeerapidly,Barbaraseemedtorealizethatachangeofmoodwascalledfor.‘Whataboutalittletune?’shesuggested,movingacrosstothegramophone.‘Now,whatshallwehave?There’samarvellousrecordherethatIboughtupintowntheotherday.’Shebegantosing,accompanyingherwordswithajazzylittledance.‘“Ikey–oh,crikey–whathaveyougoton?”Orwhatelseisthere?’
‘Oh,Barbaradear,notthatvulgarsong,’imploredMissAmory,movingacrosstoher,andhelpingtolookthroughthegramophonerecords.‘Therearesomemuchnicerrecordshere.Ifwemusthavepopularmusic,therearesomelovelysongsbyJohnMcCormackhere,somewhere.Orwhatabout“TheHolyCity”?–Ican’trememberthesoprano’sname.OrwhynotthatniceMelbarecord?Oh–ah,yes–here’sHandel’sLargo.’
‘Oh,comeon,AuntCaroline.We’renotlikelytobecheeredupbyHandel’sLargo,’Barbaraprotested.‘There’ssomeItalianoperahere,ifwemusthaveclassicalmusic.Comeon,DrCarelli,thisoughttobeyourprovince.Comeandhelpuschoose.’
CarellijoinedBarbaraandMissAmoryaroundthegramophone,andallthreeofthembegantosortthroughthepileofrecords.Richardnowseemedengrossedinhismagazine.
Luciarose,movedslowlyandapparentlyaimlesslyacrosstothecentretable,andglancedatthetinbox.Then,takingcaretoestablishthattheotherswerenotobservingher,shetookatubefromtheboxandreadthelabel.‘Hyoscinehydrobromide.’Openingthetube,Luciapourednearlyallofthetabletsintothepalmofherhand.Asshedidso,
Atthatmoment,SirClaud’svoicewasheardtocallfromthestudy.Hiswordswereindistinct,butRaynor,turningtoanswerhim,said,‘Yes,ofcourse,SirClaud.I’llbringyouyourcoffeenow.’
ThesecretarywasabouttoenterthelibrarywhenSirClaud’svoicearrestedhim.‘AndwhataboutthatlettertoMarshall’s?’
‘Itwentoffbytheafternoonpost,SirClaud,’repliedthesecretary.
‘ButRaynor,Itoldyou–oh,comebackhere,man,’SirClaudboomedfromhisstudy.
‘I’msorry,sir,’RaynorwasheardtosayasheretreatedfromthedoorwaytorejoinSirClaudAmoryinhisstudy.Lucia,whohadturnedtowatchthesecretaryatthesoundofhisvoice,seemednottorealizethathehadbeenobservinghermovements.Turning,sothatherbackwastoRichard,shedroppedthetabletsshehadbeenholdingintooneofthecoffeecupsonthecoffeetable,andmovedtothefrontofthesettee.
Thegramophonesuddenlyburstintolifewithaquickfoxtrot.RichardAmoryputdownthemagazinehehadbeenreading,finishedhiscoffeequickly,placedthecuponthecentretable,andmovedacrosstohiswife.‘I’lltakeyouatyourword.I’vedecided.We’llgoawaytogether.’
Lucialookedupathiminsurprise.‘Richard,’shesaidfaintly,‘doyoureallymeanit?Wecangetawayfromhere?ButIthoughtyousaid–whatabout?–wherewillthemoneycomefrom?’
‘Therearealwayswaysofacquiringmoney,’saidRichard,grimly.
TherewasalarminLucia’svoiceassheasked,‘Whatdoyoumean?’
‘Imean,’saidherhusband,‘thatwhenamancaresaboutawomanasmuchasIcareaboutyou,he’lldoanything.Anything!’
‘Itdoesnotflattermetohearyousaythat,’Luciaresponded.‘Itonlytellsmethatyoustilldonottrustme–thatyouthinkyoumustbuymylovewith–’
Shebrokeoff,andlookedaroundasthedoortothestudyopenedandEdwardRaynorreturned.Raynorwalkedovertothecoffeetableandpickedupacupofcoffee,asLuciachangedherpositiononthesettee,movingdowntooneendofit.Richardhadwanderedmoodilyacrosstothefireplace,andwasstaringintotheunlitfire.
Barbara,beginningatentativefoxtrotalone,lookedathercousinRichardasthoughconsideringwhethertoinvitehimtodance.But,apparentlyputoffbyhisstonycountenance,sheturnedtoRaynor.‘Caretodance,MrRaynor?’sheasked.
‘I’dloveto,MissAmory,’thesecretaryreplied.‘Justamoment,whileItakeSirClaudhiscoffee.’
Luciasuddenlyrosefromthesettee.‘MrRaynor,’shesaidhurriedly,‘thatisn’tSirClaud’scoffee.You’vetakenthewrongcup.’
‘HaveI?’saidRaynor.‘I’msosorry.’
Luciapickedupanothercupfromthecoffeetable,andhelditouttoRaynor.Theyexchangedcups.‘That,’saidLucia,asshehandedhercuptoRaynor,‘isSirClaud’scoffee.’Shesmiledenigmaticallytoherself,placedthecupRaynorhadgivenheronthecoffeetable,andreturnedtothesettee.
TurninghisbacktoLucia,thesecretarytooksometabletsfromhispocketanddroppedthemintothecuphewasholding.Ashewaswalkingwithittowardsthestudydoor,Barbarainterceptedhim.‘Docomeanddancewithme,MrRaynor,’shepleaded,withoneofhermostengagingsmiles.‘I’dforceDrCarellito,exceptthatIcantellhe’ssimplydyingtodancewithLucia.’
AsRaynorhoveredindecisively,RichardAmoryapproached.‘Youmayaswellgiveintoher,Raynor,’headvised.‘Everyonedoes,eventually.Here,givethecoffeetome.I’lltakeittomyfather.’
Reluctantly,Raynorallowedthecoffeecuptobetakenfromhim.Turningaway,RichardpausedmomentarilyandthenwentthroughintoSirClaud’sstudy.BarbaraandEdwardRaynor,havingfirstturnedoverthegramophonerecordonthemachine,werenowslowlywaltzingineachother’sarms.DrCarelliwatchedthemforamomentortwowithanindulgentsmile,beforeapproachingLuciawho,wearingalookofutterdejection,wasstillseatedonthesettee.
Carelliaddressedher.‘ItwasmostkindofMissAmorytoallowmetojoinyoufortheweekend,’hesaid.
Lucialookedupathim.Forafewsecondsshedidnotspeak,butthensaid,finally,‘Sheisthekindestofpeople.’
‘Andthisissuchacharminghouse,’continuedCarelli,movingbehindthesettee.‘Youmustshowmeoveritsometime.Iamextremelyinterestedinthedomesticarchitectureofthisperiod.’
Whilehewasspeaking,RichardAmoryhadreturnedfromthestudy.IgnoringhiswifeandCarelli,hewentacrosstotheboxofdrugsonthecentretable,andbegantotidyitscontents.
‘MissAmorycantellyoumuchmoreaboutthishousethanIcan,’LuciatoldDrCarelli.‘Iknowverylittleofthesethings.’
Lookingaroundfirst,toconfirmthatRichardAmorywasbusyinghimselfwiththedrugs,thatEdwardRaynorandBarbaraAmorywerestillwaltzingatthefarendoftheroom,andthatCarolineAmoryappearedtobedozing,Carellimovedtothefrontofthesettee,andsatnexttoLucia.Inlow,urgenttones,hemuttered,‘HaveyoudonewhatIasked?’
Hervoiceevenlower,almostawhisper,Luciasaiddesperately,‘Haveyounopity?’
‘HaveyoudonewhatItoldyouto?’Carelliaskedmoreinsistently.
‘I–I–’Luciabegan,butthen,faltering,rose,turnedabruptly,andwalkedswiftlytothedoorwhichledintothehall.Turningthehandle,shediscoveredthatthedoorwouldnotopen.
‘There’ssomethingwrongwiththisdoor,’sheexclaimed,turningtofacetheothers.‘Ican’tgetitopen.’
‘What’sthat?’calledBarbara,stillwaltzingwithRaynor.
‘Ican’tgetthisdooropen,’Luciarepeated.
BarbaraandRaynorstoppeddancingandwentacrosstoLuciaatthedoor.RichardAmorymovedtothegramophonetoswitchitoffbeforejoiningthem.Theytookitinturnstoattempttogetthedooropen,butwithoutsuccess,observedbyMissAmory,whowasawakebutstillseated,andbyDrCarelli,whostoodbythebookcase.
Unnoticedbyanyofthecompany,SirClaudemergedfromhisstudy,coffeecupinhand,andstoodforamomentortwoobservingthegroupclusteredaroundthedoortothehall.
‘Whatanextraordinarything,’Raynorexclaimed,abandoninghisattempttoopenthedoor,andturningtofacetheothers.‘Itseemstohavegotstuck,somehow.’
SirClaud’svoicerangacrosstheroom,startlingthemall.‘Oh,no,it’snotstuck.It’slocked.Lockedfromtheoutside.’
HissisterroseandapproachedSirClaud.Shewasabouttospeak,butheforestalledher.‘Itwaslockedbymyorders,Caroline,’hetoldher.
Withalleyesuponhim,SirClaudwalkedacrosstothecoffeetable,tookalumpofsugarfromthebowl,anddroppeditintohiscup.‘Ihavesomethingtosaytoyouall,’heannouncedtotheassembledcompany.‘Richard,wouldyoubesokindastoringforTredwell?’
Hissonlookedasthoughhewereabouttomakesomereply.However,afterapausehewenttothefireplaceandpressedabellinthewallnearby.
‘Isuggestthatyouallsitdown,’SirClaudcontinued,withagesturetowardsthechairs.
DrCarelli,withraisedeyebrows,crossedtheroomtositonthestool.EdwardRaynorandLuciaAmoryfoundchairsforthemselves,whileRichardAmorychosetostandinfrontofthefireplace,lookingpuzzled.CarolineAmoryandhernieceBarbaraoccupiedthesettee.
Whenallwerecomfortablyseated,SirClaudmovedthearm-chairtoapositionwherehecouldmosteasilyobservealltheothers.Hesat.
Thedoorontheleftopened,andTredwellentered.
‘Yourang,SirClaud?’
‘Yes,Tredwell.DidyoucallthenumberIgaveyou?’
‘Yes,sir.’
‘Wastheanswersatisfactory?’
‘Perfectlysatisfactory,sir.’
‘Andacarhasgonetothestation?’
‘Yes,sir.Acarhasbeenorderedtomeetthetrain.’‘Verywell,Tredwell,’saidSirClaud.‘Youmaylockupnow.’
‘Yes,sir,’repliedTredwell,ashewithdrew.
Afterthebutlerhadclosedthedoorbehindhim,thesoundofakeyturninginthelockcouldbeheard.
‘Claud,’MissAmoryexclaimed,‘whatonearthdoesTredwellthink–?’
‘Tredwellisactingonmyinstructions,Caroline,’SirClaudinterruptedsharply.
RichardAmoryaddressedhisfather.‘Mayweaskthemeaningofallthis?’heenquired,coldly.
‘Iamabouttoexplain,’repliedSirClaud.‘Pleaselistentomecalmly,allofyou.Tobeginwith,asyounowrealize,thosetwodoors’–hegesturedtowardsthetwodoorsonthehallsideofthelibrary–‘arelockedontheoutside.Frommystudynextdoor,thereisnowayoutexceptthroughthisroom.Thefrenchwindowsinthisroomarelocked.’SwivellingaroundinhisseattoCarelli,heexplained,asthoughinparenthesis,‘Locked,infact,byapatentdeviceofmyown,whichmyfamilyknowsof,butwhichtheydonotknowhowtoimmobilize.’Againaddressingeveryone,SirClaudcontinued,‘Thisplaceisarat-trap.’Helookedathiswatch.‘Itisnowtenminutestonine.Atafewminutespastnine,therat-catcherwillarrive.’
‘Therat-catcher?’RichardAmory’sfacewasastudyinperplexity.‘Whatrat-catcher?’
‘Adetective,’explainedthefamousscientistdryly,ashesippedhiscoffee
Chapter5
ConsternationgreetedSirClaud’sannouncement.Luciautteredalowcry,andherhusbandstaredatherintently.MissAmorygaveashriek,Barbaraexclaimed,‘Crikey!’andEdwardRaynorcontributedanineffectual,‘Oh,Isay,SirClaud!’OnlyDrCarelliseemedunaffected.
SirClaudsettledinhisarm-chair,holdinghiscoffeecupinhisrighthandandthesaucerinhisleft.‘Iseemtohaveachievedmylittleeffect,’heobservedwithsatisfaction.Finishinghiscoffee,hesetthecupandsaucerdownonthetablewithagrimace.‘Thecoffeeisunusuallybitterthisevening,’hecomplained.
Hissister’scountenanceregisteredacertainannoyanceattheaspersioncastonthecoffee,whichshetookasadirectcriticismofherhousekeeping.Shewasabouttosaysomething,whenRichardAmoryspoke.‘Whatdetective?’heaskedhisfather.
‘HisnameisHerculePoirot,’repliedSirClaud.‘HeisaBelgian.’
‘Butwhy?’Richardpersisted.‘Whydidyousendforhim?’
‘Aleadingquestion,’saidhisfather,withanunpleasantlygrimsmile.‘Nowwecometothepoint.Forsometimepast,asmostofyouknow,Ihavebeenengagedinatomicresearch.Ihavemadeadiscoveryofanewexplosive.Itsforceissuchthateverythinghithertoattemptedinthatlinewillbemerechild’splaybesideit.Mostofthisyouknowalready–’
Carelligottohisfeetquickly.‘Ididnotknow,’heexclaimedeagerly.‘Iammuchinterestedtohearofthis.’
‘Indeed,DrCarelli?’SirClaudinvestedtheconventionallymeaninglessphrasewithacurioussignificance,andCarelli,insomeembarrassment,resumedhisseat.
‘AsIwassaying,’SirClaudcontinued,‘theforceofAmorite,asIcallit,issuchthatwherewehavehithertokilledbythousands,wecannowkillbyhundredsofthousands.’
‘Howhorrible,’exclaimedLucia,withashudder.‘MydearLucia,’herfather-in-lawsmiledthinlyatherashespoke,‘thetruthisneverhorrible,onlyinteresting.’
‘Butwhy–’askedRichard,‘areyoutellingusallthis?’
‘BecauseIhavehadoccasionforsometimetobelievethatamemberofthishouseholdwasattemptingtostealtheAmoriteformula.IhadaskedMonsieurPoirottojoinustomorrowfortheweekend,sothathecouldtaketheformulabacktoLondonwithhimonMonday,anddeliveritpersonallytoanofficialattheMinistryofDefence.’
‘But,Claud,that’sabsurd.Indeed,it’shighlyoffensivetoallofus,’CarolineAmoryexpostulated.‘Youcan’tseriouslysuspect–’
‘Ihavenotfinished,Caroline,’herbrotherinterrupted.‘AndIassureyouthereisnothingabsurdaboutwhatIamsaying.Irepeat,IhadinvitedHerculePoirottojoinustomorrow,butIhavehadtochangemyplansandaskMonsieurPoirottohurrydownherefromLondonthisevening.Ihavetakenthisstepbecause–’
SirClaudpaused.Whenheresumedspeaking,itwasmoreslowly,andwithamuchmoredeliberateemphasis.‘Because,’herepeated,ashisglancesweptaroundtheassembledcompany,‘theformula,writtenonanordinarysheetofnotepaperandenclosedinalongenvelope,wasstolenfromthesafeinmystudysometimebeforedinnerthisevening.Itwasstolenbysomeoneinthisroom!’
Achorusofshockedexclamationsgreetedtheeminentscientist’sannouncement.Theneveryonebegantospeakatonce.‘Stolenformula?’CarolineAmorybegan.
‘What?Fromthesafe?Impossible!’EdwardRaynorexclaimed.
ThebabbleofvoicesdidnotincludethatofDrCarelli,whoremainedseated,withathoughtfulexpressiononhisface.Theothers,however,weresilencedonlywhenSirClaudraisedhisvoiceandcontinued.
‘Iaminthehabitofbeingcertainofmyfacts,’heassuredhishearers.‘Attwentyminutespastsevenexactly,Iplacedtheformulainthesafe.AsIleftthestudy,Raynorhereenteredit.’
Blushingeitherfromembarrassmentorfromanger,thesecretarybegan,‘SirClaud,really,Imustprotest–’
SirClaudraisedahandtosilencehim.‘Raynorremainedinthestudy,’hewenton,‘andwasstillthere,working,whenDrCarelliappearedatthedoor.Aftergreetinghim,RaynorleftCarellialoneinthestudywhilehewenttoletLuciaknow–’
‘Iprotest–I–’Carellibegan,butagainSirClaudraisedhishandforsilence,andcontinuedhisnarrative.‘Raynor,however,’hesaid,‘didnotgetfurtherthanthedoorofthisroomwherehemetmysisterCaroline,withBarbara.Thethreeofthemremainedinthisroom,andDrCarellijoinedthem.CarolineandBarbaraweretheonlytwomembersofthepartywhodidnotenterthestudy.’
Barbaraglancedatheraunt,andthenaddressedSirClaud.‘I’mafraidyourinformationaboutourmovementsisn’tquitecorrect,UncleClaud,’shesaid.‘Ican’tbeexcludedfromyourlistofsuspects.Doyouremember,AuntCaroline?Yousentmeintothestudytolookforaknittingneedleyousaidyou’dmislaid.Youwonderedifitmightbeinthere.’
Ignoringhisniece’sinterruption,thescientistcontinued.‘Richardcamedownnext.Hestrolledintothestudybyhimselfandremainedthereforsomeminutes.’
‘MyGod!’Richardexclaimed.‘Really,father,yousurelydon’tsuspectthatI’dstealyourwretchedformula,doyou?’
Lookingdirectlyathisson,SirClaudreplied,meaningfully,‘Thatpieceofpaperwasworthagreatdealofmoney.’
‘Isee.’Hissonregardedhimsteadily.‘AndI’mindebt.That’swhatyoumean,isn’tit?’
SirClaudmadenoreplytohim.Hisgazesweepingovertheothers,hecontinued.‘AsIwassaying,Richardremainedinthestudyforsomeminutes.HereappearedinthisroomjustasLuciacamein.Whendinnerwasannounced,afewminuteslater,Luciawasnolongerwithus.Ifoundherinthestudy,standingbythesafe.’
‘Father!’exclaimedRichard,movingtohiswifeandputtinganarmprotectivelyabouther.
‘Irepeat,standingbythesafe,’SirClaudinsisted.‘Sheseemedverymuchagitated,andwhenIaskedwhatwasthemattershetoldmeshefeltunwell.Isuggestedthataglassofwinemightbegoodforher.Sheassuredme,however,thatshewasquiteallrightagain,andthenleftmetojointheothers.InsteadoffollowingLuciaimmediatelytothedining-room,Iremainedbehindinmystudy.Idon’tknowwhy,butsomeinstincturgedmetolookinthesafe.Theenvelopewiththeformulainithaddisappeared.’
Therewasapause.Noonespoke.Theimmenseseriousnessofthesituationappearedtobedawningoneveryone.ThenRichardasked,‘Howhaveyouassembledthisinformationaboutourmovements,father?’
‘Bytakingthought,ofcourse,’SirClaudreplied.‘Byobservationanddeduction.Bytheevidenceofmyowneyes,andbywhatIlearnedfromquestioningTredwell.’
‘Inoticeyoudon’tincludeTredwelloranyoftheotherservantsamongyoursuspects,Claud,’CarolineAmoryobservedtartly.‘Onlyyourfamily.’
‘Myfamily–andourguest,’herbrothercorrectedher.‘Thatisso,Caroline.IhaveestablishedtomyownsatisfactionthatneitherTredwellnoranyofthedomesticswereinthestudybetweenthetimeIplacedtheformulainthesafeandthetimeIopenedthesafeagaintofinditmissing.’
Helookedateachoftheminturn,beforeadding,‘Ihopethepositioniscleartoyouall.Whoevertooktheformulamuststillhaveit.Sincewereturnedherefromdinner,thedining-roomhasbeenthoroughlysearched.Tredwellwouldhaveinformedmeifthepieceofpaperhadbeenfoundhiddenthere.And,asyounowrealize,Ihaveseentoitthatnoonehashadtheopportunitytoleavethisroom.’
Forsomemomentstherewasatensesilence,brokenonlywhenDrCarelliasked,politely,‘Isityoursuggestion,then,SirClaud,thatweshouldallbesearched?’
‘Thatisnotmysuggestion,’repliedSirClaud,consultinghiswatch.‘Itisnowtwominutestonine.HerculePoirotwillhavearrivedatMarketCleve,whereheisbeingmet.Atnineo’clockprecisely,Tredwellhasorderstoswitchoffthelightsfromthemainswitchinthebasement.Weshallbeincompletedarknessinthisroom,foroneminute,andoneminuteonly.Whenthelightsgoonagain,matterswillbeoutofmyhands.HerculePoirotwillbehereshortly,andhewillbeinchargeofthecase.Butif,undercoverofdarkness,theformulaisplacedhere,’andSirClaudslappedhishanddownonthetable,‘thenIshallinformMonsieurPoirotthatIhadmadeamistakeandthatIhavenoneedofhisservices.’
‘That’sanoutrageoussuggestion,’Richarddeclaredheatedly.Helookedaroundattheothers.‘Isayweshouldallbesearched.I’mcertainlywilling.’
‘SoamI,ofcourse,’EdwardRaynormadehastetoannounce.
RichardAmorylookedpointedlyatDrCarelli.TheItaliansmiledandshruggedhisshoulders.‘AndI.’
Richard’sglancemovedtohisaunt.‘Verywell,ifwemust,wemust,’MissAmorygrumbled.
‘Lucia?’Richardasked,turningtohiswife.
‘No,no,Richard,’Luciarepliedbreathily.‘Yourfather’splanisbest.’
Richardlookedatherinsilenceforamoment.
‘Well,Richard?’queriedSirClaud.
Aheavysighwasatfirsthisonlyreply,andthen,‘Verywell,Iagree.’HelookedathiscousinBarbarawhogaveagestureofassent.
SirClaudleanedbackinhischair,wearily,andspokeinaslow,draggingvoice.‘Thetasteofthatcoffeeisstillinmymouth,’hesaid,andthenyawned.
Theclockonthemantelpiecebegantostrike,andtherewascompletesilenceasallturnedtolisten.SirClaudturnedslowlyinhischairandlookedsteadilyathissonRichard.Onthelaststrokeofnine,thelightssuddenlywentoutandtheroomwasplungedintodarkness.
Therewereafewgasps,andsomestifledexclamationsfromthewomen,andthenMissAmory’svoicerangoutclearly.‘Idon’tcareforthisatall.’
‘Dobequiet,AuntCaroline,’Barbaraorderedher.‘I’mtryingtolisten.’
Forafewsecondstherewasabsolutesilence,followedbythesoundsofheavybreathing,andthenarustlingofpaper.Silenceagain,beforetheyallheardakindofmetallicclink,thesoundofsomethingtearing,andaloudbang,whichmustsurelyhavebeenachairbeingknockedover.
Suddenly,Luciascreamed.‘SirClaud!SirClaud!Ican’tbearit.Imusthavelight.Somebody,please!’
Theroomremainedindarkness.Therewasasharpintakeofbreath,andthenaloudknockatthedoorleadingtothehall.Luciascreamedagain.Asthoughinresponse,thelightssuddenlycameonagain.
Richardwasnowstandingbythedoor,apparentlyunabletodecidewhetherornottoattempttoopenit.EdwardRaynorwasonhisfeetbyhischair,whichhadoverturned.Lucialaybackinherchair,asthoughabouttofaint.
SirClaudsatabsolutelystillinhisarm-chair,withhiseyesclosed.Hissecretarysuddenlypointedtothetablebesidehisemployer.‘Look,’heexclaimed.‘Theformula.’
OnthetablebesideSirClaudwasalongenvelope,ofthetypehehadearlierdescribed.
‘ThankGod!’criedLucia.‘ThankGod!’
Therewasanotherknockatthedoor,whichnowopenedslowly.Everyone’sattentionwasfixedonthedoorway,asTredwellusheredinastranger,andthenwithdrew.
Theassembledcompanystaredatthestranger.Whattheysawwasanextraordinary-lookinglittleman,hardlymorethanfivefeetfourinchesinheight,whocarriedhimselfwithgreatdignity.Hisheadwasexactlytheshapeofanegg,andhecarrieditataslightangle,likeanenquiringterrier.Hismoustachewasdistinctlystiffandmilitary.Hewasveryneatlydressed.
‘HerculePoirot,atyourservice,’saidthestranger,andbowed.
RichardAmoryheldoutahand.‘MonsieurPoirot,’hesaidastheyshookhands.
‘SirClaud?’askedPoirot.‘Ah,no,youaretooyoung,ofcourse.Youarehisson,perhaps?’HemovedpastRichardintothecentreoftheroom.Behindhim,anotherman,tall,middle-agedandofmilitarybearing,hadunobtrusivelyentered.AshemovedtoPoirot’sside,thedetectiveannounced,‘Mycolleague,CaptainHastings.’
‘Whatadelightfulroom,’HastingsobservedasheshookhandswithRichardAmory.
RichardturnedbacktoPoirot.‘I’msorry,MonsieurPoirot,’hesaid,‘butIfearwehavebroughtyoudownhereunderamisapprehension.Theneedforyourserviceshaspassed.’
‘Indeed?’repliedPoirot.‘Yes,I’msorry,’Richardcontinued.‘It’stoobad,draggingyouallthewaydownherefromLondon.Ofcourse,yourfee–andexpenses–Imean–er,that’llbeallright,ofcourse–’
‘Icomprehendperfectly,’saidPoirot,‘butforthemomentitisneithermyfeenormyexpenseswhichinterestsme.’
‘No?Thenwhat–er–?’
‘Whatdoesinterestme,MrAmory?Iwilltellyou.Itisjustalittlepoint,ofnoconsequence,ofcourse.Butitwasyourfatherwhosentformetocome.Whyisitnothewhotellsmetogo?’
‘Oh,ofcourse.I’msorry,’saidRichard,turningtowardsSirClaud.‘Father,wouldyoupleasetellMonsieurPoirotthatwenolongerhaveanyneedofhisservices?’
SirClauddidnotanswer.
‘Father!’Richardexclaimed,movingquicklytoSirClaud’sarm-chair.Hebentoverhisfather,andthenturnedaroundwildly.‘DrCarelli,’hecalled.
MissAmoryrose,white-faced.CarelliswiftlycrossedtoSirClaud,andfelthispulse.Frowning,heplacedhishandoverSirClaud’sheart,andthenshookhishead.
Poirotmovedslowlytothearm-chair,andstoodlookingdownatthemotionlessbodyofthescientist.‘Ye-es–Ifear–,’hemurmured,asthoughtohimself,‘Iverymuchfear–’
‘Whatdoyoufear?’askedBarbara,movingtowardshim.
Poirotlookedather.‘IfearthatSirClaudhassentformetoolate,mademoiselle.’
Chapter6
StunnedsilencefollowedHerculePoirot’sstatement.DrCarellicontinuedhisexaminationofSirClaudforafewmomentsbeforestraighteninghimselfandturningtotheothers.AddressingRichardAmory,‘Iamafraidyourfatherisdead,’heconfirmed.
Richardstaredathimindisbelief,asthoughhewereunabletotakeintheItaliandoctor’swords.Then,‘MyGod–whatwasit?Heartfailure?’heasked.
‘I–Isupposeso,’repliedCarellisomewhatdoubtfully.
Barbaramovedtoheraunttocomforther,forMissAmoryseemedabouttofaint.EdwardRaynorjoinedthem,helpingtosupportMissAmory,andwhisperingtoBarbaraashedidso,‘Isupposethatfellowisarealdoctor?’
‘Yes,butonlyanItalianone,’Barbaramurmuredinreply,asbetweenthemtheysettledMissAmoryintoachair.OverhearingBarbara’sremark,Poirotshookhisheadenergetically.Then,strokinghisluxuriantmoustachewithexquisitecare,hesmiledashecommented,softly,‘Me,Iamadetective–butonlyaBelgianone.Nevertheless,mademoiselle,weforeignersdoarriveatthecorrectansweroccasionally.’
Barbarahadthegracetolookatleastatrifleembarrassed.SheandRaynorremainedinconversationforafewmoments,butthenLuciaapproachedPoirot,takinghisarmanddrawinghimasidefromtheothers.
‘MonsieurPoirot,’sheurgedhimbreathlessly,‘youmuststay!Youmustnotletthemsendyouaway.’
Poirotregardedhersteadily.Hisfaceremainedquiteimpassiveasheaskedher,‘Isitthatyouwishmetostay,madame?’
‘Yes,yes,’repliedLucia,glancinganxiouslytowardsthebodyofSirClaudstillseatedinitsuprightpositioninthearm-chair.‘There’ssomethingwrongaboutallthis.Myfather-in-law’sheartwasperfectlyallright.Perfectly,Itellyou.Please,MonsieurPoirot,youmustfindoutwhathashappened.’
DrCarelliandRichardAmorycontinuedtohovernearthebodyofSirClaud.Richard,inanagonyofindecision,appearedtobealmostpetrifiedintoimmobility.‘Iwouldsuggest,MrAmory,’DrCarelliurgedhim,‘thatyousendforyourfather’sownphysician.Iassumehehadone?’
Richardrousedhimselfwithaneffort.‘What?Ohyes,’heresponded.‘DrGraham.YoungKennethGraham.Hehasapracticeinthevillage.Infact,he’sratherkeenonmycousinBarbara.Imean–sorry,that’sirrelevant,isn’tit?’GlancingacrosstheroomatBarbara,hecalledtoher.‘What’sKennethGraham’sphonenumber?’
‘MarketClevefive,’Barbaratoldhim.Richardmovedtothephone,liftedthereceiverandaskedforthenumber.Whilehewaswaitingtobeconnected,EdwardRaynor,recallinghissecretarialduties,askedRichard,‘DoyouthinkIshouldorderthecarforMonsieurPoirot?’
Poirotspreadouthishandsapologetically.HewasabouttospeakwhenLuciaforestalledhim.‘MonsieurPoirotisremaining–atmyrequest,’sheannouncedtothecompanyingeneral.
Stillholdingthetelephonereceivertohisear,Richardturned,startled.‘Whatdoyoumean?’heaskedhiswifetersely.
‘Yes,yes,Richard,hemuststay,’Luciainsisted.Hervoicesoundedalmosthysterical.
MissAmorylookedupinconsternation,BarbaraandEdwardRaynorexchangedworriedglances,DrCarellistoodlookingdownthoughtfullyatthelifelessbodyofthegreatscientist,whileHastings,whohadbeenabsent-mindedlyexaminingthebooksonthelibraryshelves,turnedtosurveythegathering.
RichardwasabouttorespondtoLucia’soutburstwhenhisattentionwasclaimedbythetelephonehewasholding.‘Ohwhat…IsthatDrGraham?’heasked.‘Kenneth,it’sRichardAmoryspeaking.Myfatherhashadaheartattack.Canyoucomeupatonce?…Well,actually,I’mafraidthere’snothingtobedone…Yes,he’sdead…No…I’mafraidso…Thankyou.’Replacingthereceiver,hecrossedtheroomtohiswifeand,inalow,agitatedvoice,muttered,‘Lucia,areyoumad?Whathaveyoudone?Don’tyourealizewemustgetridofthisdetective?’
Astonished,Luciarosefromherchair.‘Whatdoyoumean?’sheaskedRichard
Theirexchangecontinuedquietlybuturgently.‘Didn’tyouhearwhatfathersaid?’Histonefraughtwithmeaning,hemurmured,‘“Thecoffeeisverybitter.”’
Atfirst,Luciaseemednottounderstand.‘Thecoffeeisverybitter?’sherepeated.ShelookedatRicharduncomprehendinglyforamoment,andthensuddenlyutteredacryofhorrorwhichshequicklystifled.
‘Yousee?Doyouunderstandnow?’Richardasked.Loweringhisvoicetoawhisper,headded,‘He’sbeenpoisoned.Andobviouslybyamemberofthefamily.Youdon’twantaghastlyscandal,doyou?’
‘Oh,myGod,’murmuredLucia,staringstraightinfrontofher.‘Oh,mercifulGod.’
Turningawayfromher,RichardapproachedPoirot.‘MonsieurPoirot–’hebegan,andthenhesitated.
‘M’sieur?’Poirotqueried,politely.
Summoninguphisdetermination,Richardcontinued,‘MonsieurPoirot,I’mafraidIdonotquiteunderstandwhatitisthatmywifehasaskedyoutoinvestigate.’
Poirotconsideredforamomentbeforereplying.Then,smilingpleasantly,heanswered,‘Shallwesay,thetheftofadocument?That,mademoiselletellsme,’hecontinued,gesturingtowardsBarbara,‘iswhatIwascalleddownfor.’
CastingaglanceofreproachatBarbara,RichardtoldPoirot,‘Thedocumentinquestionhasbeen–returned.’
‘Hasit?’askedPoirot,hissmilebecomingratherenigmatic.Thelittledetectivesuddenlyhadtheattentionofeveryonepresent,ashemovedtothetableinthecentreoftheroomandlookedattheenvelopestilllyingonit,whichhadbeengenerallyforgottenintheexcitementandcommotioncausedbythediscoveryofSirClaud’sdeath.
‘Whatdoyoumean?’RichardAmoryaskedHerculePoirot.
Poirotgaveaflamboyanttwisttohismoustache,andcarefullybrushedanimaginaryspeckofdustfromhissleeve.Then,‘Itisjusta–nodoubtfoolish–ideaofmine,’thelittledetectivefinallyreplied.‘Yousee,someonetoldmetheotherdayamostamusingstory.Thestoryoftheemptybottle–therewasnothinginit.’
‘I’msorry,Idon’tunderstandyou,’RichardAmorydeclared.
Pickinguptheenvelopefromthetable,Poirotmurmured,‘Ijustwondered…’HeglancedatRichard,whotooktheenvelopefromhim,andlookedinside.
‘It’sempty!’Richardexclaimed.Screwinguptheenvelope,hethrewitonthetableandlookedsearchinglyatLucia,whomovedawayfromhim.‘Then,’hecontinueduncertainly,‘Isupposewemustbesearched–we…’
Richard’svoicetrailedaway,andhelookedaroundtheroomasthoughseekingguidance.HewasmetwithlooksofconfusionfromBarbaraandheraunt,indignationfromEdwardRaynorandblandnessfromDrCarelli.Luciacontinuedtoavoidhiseye.
‘Whydoyounottakemyadvice,monsieur?’Poirotsuggested.‘Donothinguntilthedoctorcomes.Tellme,’heasked,pointingtowardsthestudy,‘thatdoorway,wheredoeshego?’
‘That’smyfather’sstudyinthere,’Richardtoldhim.Poirotcrossedtheroomtothedoor,puthisheadaroundittolookintothestudy,andthenturnedbackintothelibrary,noddingasthoughsatisfied.
‘Isee,’hemurmured.Then,addressingRichard,headded,‘Ehbien,monsieur.Iseenoneedwhyanyofyoushouldremaininthisroomifyouwouldprefernotto.’
Therewasageneralstirofrelief.DrCarelliwasthefirsttomove.‘Itisunderstood,ofcourse,’Poirotannounced,lookingattheItaliandoctor,‘thatnooneshouldleavethehouse.’
‘Iwillholdmyselfresponsibleforthat,’RicharddeclaredasBarbaraandRaynorlefttogether,followedbyCarelli.CarolineAmorylingeredbyherbrother’schair.‘PoordearClaud,’shemurmuredtoherself.‘PoordearClaud.’
Poirotapproachedher.‘Youmusthavecourage,mademoiselle,’hetoldher.‘Theshocktoyouhasbeengreat,Iknow.’
MissAmorylookedathimwithtearsinhereyes.‘I’msogladthatIorderedthecooktopreparefriedsoletonight,’shesaid.‘Itwasoneofmybrother’sfavouritedishes.’
Withabraveattempttolookseriousandtomatchthesolemnityofherdelivery,Poirotanswered,‘Yes,yes,thatmustbearealcomforttoyou,Iamsure.’HeshepherdedMissAmoryoutoftheroom.Richardfollowedhisauntoutand,afteramoment’shesitation,Luciamadeabriskexit.PoirotandHastingswereleftaloneintheroomwiththebodyofSirClaud.
Chapter7
Assoonastheroomwasempty,HastingsaddressedPoiroteagerly.‘Well,whatdoyouthink?’heasked.
‘Shutthedoor,please,Hastings,’wastheonlyreplyhereceived.Ashisfriendcomplied,Poirotshookhisheadslowlyandlookedaroundtheroom.Hemovedabout,castinganeyeoverthefurnitureandoccasionallylookingdownatthefloor.Suddenly,hestoopeddowntoexaminetheoverturnedchair,thechairinwhichthesecretaryEdwardRaynorhadbeensittingwhenthelightshadgoneout.FrombeneaththechairPoirotpickedupasmallobject.
‘Whathaveyoufound?’
Hastingsaskedhim.‘Akey,’Poirotreplied.‘Itlookstomeasthoughitmightbethekeytoasafe.IobservedasafeinSirClaud’sstudy.Willyouhavethegoodness,Hastings,totrythiskeyandtellmeifitfits?’
HastingstookthekeyfromPoirot,andwentintothestudywithit.Meanwhile,Poirotapproachedthebodyofthescientistand,feelinginthetrouserpocket,removedfromitabunchofkeys,eachofwhichheexaminedclosely.Hastingsreturned,informingPoirotthat,indeed,thekeyfittedthesafeinthestudy.‘IthinkIcanguesswhathappened,’Hastingscontinued.‘IimagineSirClaudmusthavedroppedit,and–er–’
Hebrokeoff,andPoirotslowlyshookhishead,doubtfully.‘No,no,monami,givemethekey,please,’herequested,frowningtohimselfasthoughperplexed.HetookthekeyfromHastingsandcompareditwithoneofthekeysonthebunch.Then,puttingthembackinthedeadscientist’spocket,heheldupthesinglekey.‘This,’hetoldHastings,‘isaduplicate.Itis,indeed,clumsilymade,butnodoubtitserveditspurpose.’
Ingreatexcitement,Hastingsexclaimed,‘Thenthatmeans–’
HewasstoppedbyawarninggesturefromPoirot.Thesoundofakeybeingturnedinthelockofthedoorwhichledtothefronthallandthestaircasetotheupperfloorsofthehousewasheard.Asthetwomenturned,itopenedslowly,andTredwell,thebutler,stoodinthedoorway.
‘Ibegyourpardon,sir,’saidTredwellashecameintotheroomandshutthedoorbehindhim.‘Themastertoldmetolockthisdoor,aswellastheotheroneleadingfromthisroom,untilyouarrived.Themaster…’Hestopped,onseeingthemotionlessfigureofSirClaudinthechair.
‘Iamafraidyourmasterisdead,’Poirottoldhim.‘MayIaskyourname?’
‘Tredwell,sir.’Theservantmovedtothefrontofthedesk,lookingatthebodyofhismaster.‘Ohdear.PoorSirClaud!’hemurmured.TurningtoPoirot,headded,‘Dopleaseforgiveme,sir,butit’ssuchashock.MayIaskwhathappened?Isit–murder?’
‘Whyshouldyouaskthat?’saidPoirot.
Loweringhisvoice,thebutlerreplied,‘Therehavebeenstrangethingshappeningthisevening,sir.’
‘Oh?’exclaimedPoirot,asheexchangedglanceswithHastings.‘Tellmeaboutthesestrangethings.’
‘Well,Ihardlyknowwheretobegin,sir,’Tredwellreplied.‘I–IthinkIfirstfeltthatsomethingwaswrongwhentheItaliangentlemancametotea.’
‘TheItaliangentleman?’
‘DrCarelli,sir.’
‘Hecametoteaunexpectedly?’askedPoirot.
‘Yes,sir,andMissAmoryaskedhimtostay,seeingashowhewasafriendofMrsRichard’s.Butifyouaskme,sir–’
Hestopped,andPoirotgentlypromptedhim.‘Yes?’
‘Ihopeyouwillunderstand,sir,’saidTredwell,‘thatitisnotmycustomtogossipaboutthefamily.Butseeingthatthemasterisdead…’
Hepausedagain,andPoirotmurmuredsympathetically,‘Yes,yes,Iunderstand.Iamsureyouwereveryattachedtoyourmaster.’Tredwellnodded,andPoirotcontinued,‘SirClaudsentformeinordertotellmesomething.Youmusttellmeallyoucan.’
‘Well,then,’Tredwellresponded,‘inmyopinion,sir,MrsRichardAmorydidnotwanttheItaliangentlemanaskedtodinner.IobservedherfacewhenMissAmorygavetheinvitation.’
‘WhatisyourownimpressionofDrCarelli?’askedPoirot.
‘DrCarelli,sir,’repliedthebutlerratherhaughtily,‘isnotoneofus.’
NotquiteunderstandingTredwell’sremark,PoirotlookedenquiringlyatHastingswhoturnedawaytohideasmile.Throwinghiscolleagueaglanceofmildreproof,PoirotturnedagaintoTredwell.Thebutler’scountenanceremainedperfectlyserious.
‘Didyoufeel,’Poirotqueried,‘thattherewassomethingoddaboutDrCarelli’scomingtothehouseinthewaythathedid?’
‘Precisely,sir.Itwasn’tnatural,somehow.Anditwasafterhearrivedthatthetroublebegan,withthemastertellingmeearlierthiseveningtosendforyou,andgivingordersaboutthedoorsbeinglocked.MrsRichard,too,hasn’tbeenherselfalltheevening.Shehadtoleavethedinner-table.MrRichard,hewasveryupsetaboutit.’
‘Ah,’saidPoirot,‘shehadtoleavethetable?Didshecomeintothisroom?’
‘Yes,sir,’Tredwellreplied.
Poirotlookedaroundtheroom.HiseyealightedonthehandbagwhichLuciahadleftonthetable.‘Oneoftheladieshasleftherbag,Isee,’heobserved,ashepickeditup.
Movingclosertohimtolookatthehandbag,TredwelltoldPoirot,‘ThatisMrsRichard’s,sir.’
‘Yes,’Hastingsconfirmed.‘Inoticedherlayingitdowntherejustbeforeshelefttheroom.’
‘Justbeforeshelefttheroom,eh?’saidPoirot.‘Howcurious.’Heputthebagdownonthesettee,frownedperplexedly,andstoodapparentlylostinthought.
‘Aboutlockingthedoors,sir,’Tredwellcontinuedafterabriefpause.‘Themastertoldme–’
Suddenlystartingoutofhisreverie,Poirotinterruptedthebutler.‘Yes,yes,Imusthearallaboutthat.Letusgothroughhere,’hesuggested,indicatingthedoortothefrontofthehouse.
Tredwellwenttothedoor,followedbyPoirot.Hastings,however,declaredratherimportantly,‘IthinkI’llstayhere.’
Poirotturned,andregardedHastingsquizzically.‘No,no,pleasecomewithus,’herequestedhiscolleague.
‘Butdon’tyouthinkitbetter–’Hastingsbegan,whenPoirotinterruptedhim,nowspeakingsolemnlyandmeaningfully.‘Ineedyourco-operation,myfriend,’hesaid.
‘Oh,well,ofcourse,inthatcase–’
Thethreemenlefttheroomtogether,closingthedoorbehindthem.Nomorethanafewsecondslater,thedoorleadingtothehallwaywasopenedcautiouslyandLuciaenteredsurreptitiously.Afterahurriedglancearoundtheroomasthoughtoassureherselfthattherewasnoonethere,sheapproachedtheroundtableinthecentreoftheroom,andpickedupSirClaud’scoffeecup.Ashrewd,hardlookcameintohereyeswhichbeliedtheircustomaryinnocentappearance,andshesuddenlylookedagooddealolder.
Luciawasstillstandingwiththecupinherhand,asthoughundecidedwhattodo,whentheotherdoorleadingtothefrontofthehouseopenedandPoirotenteredthelibraryalone.
‘Permitme,madame,’saidPoirot,causingLuciatostartviolently.Hemovedacrosstoher,andtookthecupfromherhandwiththeairofoneindulginginagestureofsimplepoliteness.
‘I–I–camebackformybag,’Luciagasped.
‘Ah,yes,’saidPoirot.‘Now,letmesee,wheredidIobservealady’shandbag?Ahyes,overhere.’Hewenttothesettee,pickedupthebag,andhandedittoLucia.‘Thankyousomuch,’shesaid,glancingarounddistractedlyasshespoke.
‘Notatall,madame.’
AfterabriefnervoussmileatPoirot,Luciaquicklylefttheroom.Whenshehadgone,Poirotstoodquitestillforamomentortwo,andthenpickedupthecoffeecup.Aftersmellingitcautiously,hetookfromhispocketatesttube,pouredsomeofthedregsfromSirClaud’scupintoit,andsealedthetube.Replacingitinhispocket,hethenproceededtolookaroundtheroom,countingthecupsaloud.‘One,two,three,four,five,six.Yes,sixcoffeecups.’
AperplexedfrownwasbeginningtogatherbetweenPoirot’sbrows,whensuddenlyhiseyesshonewiththatgreenlightthatalwaysbetokenedinwardexcitement.Movingswiftlytothedoorthroughwhichhehadrecentlyentered,heopeneditandslammeditnoisilyshutagain,andthendartedtothefrenchwindows,concealinghimselfbehindthecurtains.Afterafewmomentstheotherdoor,theonetothehallway,opened,andLuciaenteredagain,thistimeevenmorecautiouslythanbefore,appearingtobeverymuchonherguard.Lookingaboutherinanattempttokeepbothdoorsinhersight,shesnatchedupthecoffeecupfromwhichSirClaudhaddrunk,andsurveyedtheentireroom.
Hereyealightedonthesmalltablenearthedoortothehall,onwhichtherestoodalargebowlcontainingahouseplant.Movingtothetable,Luciathrustthecoffeecupupsidedownintothebowl.Then,stillwatchingthedoor,shetookoneoftheothercoffeecupsandplaceditnearSirClaud’sbody.Shethenmovedquicklytothedoor,butasshereachedit,thedooropenedandherhusbandRichardenteredwithaverytall,sandy-hairedmaninhisearlythirties,whosecountenance,thoughamiable,hadanairofauthorityaboutit.ThenewcomerwascarryingaGladstonebag.
‘Lucia!’Richardexclaimed,startled.‘Whatareyoudoinghere?’
‘I–I–cametogetmyhandbag,’Luciaexplained.‘Hello,DrGraham.Excuseme,please,’sheadded,hurryingpastthem.AsRichardwatchedhergo,Poirotemergedfrombehindthecurtains,approachingthetwomenasthoughhehadjustenteredtheroombytheotherdoor.
‘Ah,hereisMonsieurPoirot.Letmeintroduceyou.Poirot,thisisDrGraham.KennethGraham.’Poirotandthedoctorbowedtoeachother,andDrGrahamwentimmediatelytothebodyofthedeadscientisttoexamineit,watchedbyRichard.HerculePoirot,towhomtheypaidnofurtherattention,movedabouttheroom,countingthecoffeecupsagainwithasmile.‘One,two,three,four,five,’hemurmured.‘Five,indeed.’AlightofpureenjoymentlitupPoirot’sface,andhesmiledinhismostinscrutablefashion.Takingthetesttubeoutofhispocket,helookedatit,andslowlyshookhishead.
Meanwhile,DrGrahamhadconcludedacursoryexaminationofSirClaudAmory’sbody.‘I’mafraid,’hesaidtoRichard,‘thatIshan’tbeabletosignadeathcertificate.SirClaudwasinaperfectlyhealthycondition,anditseemsextremelyunlikelytomethathecouldhavesufferedasuddenheartattack.Ifearweshallhavetofindoutwhathehadeatenordrunkinhislasthours.’
‘Goodheavens,man,isthatreallynecessary?’askedRichard,withanoteofalarminhisvoice.‘Hehadn’teatenordrunkanythingthattherestofusdidn’t.It’sabsurdtosuggest–’
‘I’mnotsuggestinganything,’DrGrahaminterrupted,speakingfirmlyandwithauthority.‘I’mtellingyouthattherewillhavetobeaninquest,bylaw,andthatthecoronerwillcertainlywanttoknowthecauseofdeath.AtpresentIsimplydonotknowwhatcausedSirClaud’sdeath.I’llhavehisbodyremoved,andI’llarrangeforanautopsytobedonefirstthingtomorrowmorningasamatterofurgency.Ishouldbeabletogetbacktoyoulatertomorrowwithsomehardfacts.’
Helefttheroomswiftly,followedbyastillexpostulatingRichard.Poirotlookedafterthem,andthenassumedapuzzledexpressionasheturnedtolookagainatthebodyofthemanwhohadcalledhimawayfromLondonwithsuchurgencyinhisvoice.‘Whatwasityouwantedtotellme,myfriend?Iwonder.Whatdidyoufear?’hethoughttohimself
Shakinghisheadthoughtfully,PoirotwasabouttoleavetheroomwhenTredwellentered.‘I’veshowntheothergentlemantohisroom,sir,’hetoldPoirot.‘MayItakeyoutoyours,whichistheadjoiningoneatthetopofthestairs?I’vealsotakenthelibertyofprovidingalittlecoldsupperforyouboth,afteryourjourney.OnthewayupstairsI’llshowyouwherethedining-roomis.’
Poirotinclinedhisheadinpoliteacceptance.‘Thankyouverymuch,Tredwell,’hesaid.‘Incidentally,IamgoingtoadviseMrAmorymoststronglythatthisroomshouldbekeptlockeduntiltomorrow,whenweshouldhavefurtherinformationaboutthisevening’sdistressingoccurrence.Wouldyoubesokindastomakeitsecureafterweleaveitnow?’
‘Mostcertainly,sir,ifthatisyourwish,’repliedTredwellasPoirotprecededhimoutofthelibrary.
Chapter8
I
WhenHastingscamedowntobreakfastlatethefollowingmorning,afterhavingsleptlongandwell,hefoundhimselfeatingalone.FromTredwellhelearnedthatEdwardRaynorhadbreakfastedmuchearlier,andhadgonebacktohisroomtoputsomeofSirClaud’spapersinorder,thatMrandMrsAmoryhadhadbreakfastintheirsuiteofroomsandhadnotyetappeared,andthatBarbaraAmoryhadtakenacupofcoffeeoutintothegardenwhereshewaspresumablystillsunningherself.MissCarolineAmoryhadorderedbreakfastinherroom,pleadingaslightheadache,andTredwellhadnotseenhersubsequently.
‘HaveyoucaughtsightofMonsieurPoirotatallthismorning,Tredwell?’Hastingsasked,andwastoldthathisfriendhadrisenearlyandhaddecidedtotakeawalktothevillage.‘IunderstoodMonsieurPoirottosaythathehadsomebusinesstoconductthere,’Tredwelladded.
Afterfinishingalavishbreakfastofbacon,sausageandeggs,toastandcoffee,Hastingsreturnedtohiscomfortableroomonthefirstfloor,whichofferedasplendidviewofpartofthegardenand,forafewminuteswhichHastingsfoundrewarding,ofthesun-bathingBarbaraAmoryaswell.ItwasnotuntilBarbarahadcomeindoorsthatHastingssettleddowninanarm-chairwiththatmorning’sTimes,whichhadofcoursegonetopresstooearlytocontainanymentionofSirClaudAmory’sdeaththepreviousevening
Hastingsturnedtotheeditorialpageandbegantoread.Agoodhalf-hourlater,heawakenedfromalightslumbertofindHerculePoirotstandingoverhim.
‘Ah,moncher,youarehardatworkonthecase,Isee,’Poirotchuckled.
‘Asamatteroffact,Poirot,Iwasthinkingaboutlastnight’seventsforquitesometime,’Hastingsasserted.‘Imusthavedozedoff.’
‘Andwhynot,myfriend?’Poirotassuredhim.‘Me,IhavebeenthinkingaboutthedeathofSirClaudaswell,and,ofcourse,thetheftofhissoimportantformula.Ihave,infact,alreadytakensomeaction,andIamexpectingatanyminuteatelephonemessagetotellmeifacertainsuspicionofmineiscorrectornot.’
‘Whatorwhomdoyoususpect,Poirot?’Hastingsaskedeagerly.
Poirotlookedoutofthewindowbeforereplying.‘No,IdonotthinkIcanrevealthattoyouatthisstageofthegame,myfriend,’herepliedmischievously.‘Letusjustsaythat,asthemagiciansonthestageliketoassureus,thequicknessofthehanddeceivestheeye.’
‘Really,Poirot,’Hastingsexclaimed,‘youcanbeextremelyirritatingattimes.Idothinkyououghttoatleastletmeknowwhomyoususpectofhavingstolentheformula.Afterall,Imightbeabletohelpyouby–’
Poirotstoppedhiscolleaguewithanairygestureofhishand.Thelittledetectivewasnowwearinghismostinnocentexpression,andgazingoutofthewindow,meditatively,intothefardistance.‘Youarepuzzled,Hastings?’heasked.‘YouarewonderingtoyourselfwhyIdonotlaunchmyselfinpursuitofasuspect?’
‘Well–somethingofthekind,’Hastingsadmitted.
‘Itisnodoubtwhatyouwoulddo,ifyouwereinmyplace,’observedPoirotcomplacently.‘Iunderstandthat.ButIamnotofthosewhoenjoyrushingabout,seekinganeedleinahay-stack,asyouEnglishsay.Forthemoment,Iamcontenttowait.AstowhyIwait–ehbien,totheintelligenceofHerculePoirotthingsaresometimesperfectlyclearwhicharenotatallcleartothosewhoarenotsogreatlygifted.’
‘GoodLord,Poirot!’Hastingsexclaimed.‘Doyouknow,I’dgiveaconsiderablesumofmoneytoseeyoumakeathoroughassofyourself–justforonce.You’resoconfoundedlyconceited!’
‘Donotenrageyourself,mydearHastings,’Poirotrepliedsoothingly.‘Inverity,Iobservethattherearetimeswhenyouseemalmosttodetestme!Alas,Isufferthepenaltiesofgreatness!’
Thelittlemanpuffedouthischest,andsighedsocomicallythatHastingswasforcedtolaugh.‘Poirot,youreallyhavethebestopinionofyourselfofanyoneI’veeverknown,’hedeclared.
‘Whatwillyou?Whenoneisunique,oneknowsit.Butnowtoseriousmatters,mydearHastings.LetmetellyouthatIhaveaskedSirClaud’sson,MrRichardAmory,tomeetusinthelibraryatnoon.Isay“us”,Hastings,forIneedyoutobethere,myfriend,toobserveclosely.’
‘Asalways,Ishallbedelightedtoassistyou,Poirot,’hisfriendassuredhim.
II
Atnoon,Poirot,HastingsandRichardAmorymetinthelibrary,fromwhichthebodyofSirClaudhadbeenremovedlatethepreviousevening.WhileHastingslistenedandobservedfromacomfortablepositiononthesettee,thedetectiveaskedRichardAmorytorecountindetailtheeventsoftheevening,priortohis,Poirot’s,arrival.Whenhehadconcludedhisrecitalofevents,Richard,sittinginthechairwhichhisfatherhadoccupiedthepreviousevening,added,‘Well,that’sabouteverything,Ithink.IhopeI’vemademyselfclear?’
‘Butperfectly,MonsieurAmory,perfectly,’Poirotreplied,leaningagainstanarmoftheonlyarm-chairintheroom.‘Inowhaveacleartableau.’Shuttinghiseyes,heattemptedtoconjureupthescene.‘ThereisSirClaudinhischair,dominatingthesituation.Thenthedarkness,theknockingonthedoor.Yes,indeed,adramaticlittlescene.’
‘Well,’saidRichard,makingasiftorise,‘ifthatisall–’
‘Justonelittleminute,’saidPoirot,withagestureasthoughtodetainhim.
Loweringhimselftohischairagainwithanairofreluctance,Richardasked,‘Yes?’
‘Whataboutearlierintheevening,MonsieurAmory?’
‘Earlierintheevening?’
‘Yes,’Poirotremindedhim.‘Afterdinner.’
‘Oh,that!’saidRichard.‘There’sreallynothingmoretotell.Myfatherandhissecretary,Raynor–EdwardRaynor–wentstraightintomyfather’sstudy.Therestofuswereinhere.’
PoirotbeamedatRichardencouragingly.‘Andyoudid–what?’
‘Oh,wejusttalked.Wehadthegramophoneonformostofthetime.’
Poirotthoughtforamoment.Then,‘Nothingtookplacethatstrikesyouasworthrecalling?’heasked.
‘Nothingwhatever,’Richardaffirmedveryquickly.
Watchinghimclosely,Poirotpressedon.‘Whenwasthecoffeeserved?’
‘Immediatelyafterdinner,’wasRichard’sreply.
Poirotmadeacircularmotionwithhishand.‘Didthebutlerhanditaround,ordidheleaveitheretobepouredout?’
‘Ireallycan’tremember,’saidRichard.
Poirotgaveaslightsigh.Hethoughtforamoment,andthenasked,‘Didyoualltakecoffee?’
‘Yes,Ithinkso.AllexceptRaynor,thatis.Hedoesn’tdrinkcoffee.’
‘AndSirClaud’scoffeewastakentohiminthestudy?’
‘Isupposeso,’repliedRichardwithsomeirritationbeginningtoshowinhisvoice.‘Areallthesedetailsreallynecessary?’
Poirotliftedhisarmsinagestureofapology.‘Iamsosorry,’hesaid.‘ItisjustthatIamveryanxioustogetthewholepicturestraightinmymind’seye.And,afterall,wedowanttogetthispreciousformulaback,dowenot?’
‘Isupposeso,’wasagainRichard’srathersullenrejoinder,atwhichPoirot’seyebrowsshotupexaggeratedlyandheutteredanexclamationofsurprise.‘No,ofcourse,ofcourse,wedo,’Richardhastenedtoadd.
Poirot,lookingawayfromRichardAmory,asked,‘Now,whendidSirClaudcomefromthestudyintothisroom?’
‘Justastheyweretryingtogetthatdooropen,’Amorytoldhim.
‘They?’queriedPoirot,roundingonhim.
‘Yes.Raynorandtheothers.’
‘MayIaskwhowanteditopened?’
‘Mywife,Lucia,’saidRichard.‘Shehadn’tbeenfeelingwellalltheevening.’
Poirot’stonewassympatheticashereplied,‘Lapauvredame!Ihopeshefindsherselfbetterthismorning?ThereareoneortwothingsIurgentlydesiretoaskher.’
‘I’mafraidthat’squiteimpossible,’saidRichard.‘She’snotuptoseeinganyone,oransweringanyquestions.Inanycase,there’snothingshecouldtellyouthatIcouldn’t.’
‘Quiteso,quiteso,’Poirotassuredhim.‘Butwomen,MonsieurAmory,haveagreatcapacityforobservingthingsindetail.Still,doubtlessyouraunt,MissAmory,willdoaswell.’
‘She’sinbed,’saidRichardhastily.‘Myfather’sdeathwasagreatshocktoher.’
‘Yes,Isee,’murmuredPoirotthoughtfully.Therewasapause.Richard,lookingdistinctlyuncomfortable,roseandturnedtothefrenchwindows.‘Let’shavesomeair,’heannounced.‘It’sveryhotinhere.’
‘Ah,youarelikealltheEnglish,’Poirotdeclared,smiling.‘Thegoodopenair,youwillnotleaveitintheopen.No!Itmustbebroughtinsidethehouse.’
‘Youdon’tmind,Ihope?’Richardasked.
‘Me?’saidPoirot.‘No,ofcoursenot.IhaveadoptedalltheEnglishhabits.Everywhere,IamtakenforanEnglishman.’Onthesettee,Hastingscouldnothelpbutsmiletohimself.‘But,pardonme,MonsieurAmory,isnotthatwindowlockedbysomeingeniousdevice?’
‘Yes,itis,’repliedRichard,‘butthekeytoitisonmyfather’sbunchofkeyswhichIhavehere.’Takingabunchofkeysfromhispocket,hemovedtothefrenchwindowsandundidthecatch,flingingthewindowsopenwide.
Movingawayfromhim,Poirotsatonthestool,wellawayfromthefrenchwindowsandthefreshair,andshivered,whileRichardtookadeepbreathofairandthenstoodforamoment,lookingoutatthegarden,beforecomingbacktoPoirotwiththeairofsomeonewhohasarrivedatadecision.
‘MonsieurPoirot,’RichardAmorydeclared,‘Iwon’tbeataboutthebush.Iknowmywifebeggedyoulastnighttoremain,butshewasupsetandhysterical,andhardlyknewwhatshewasdoing.I’mthepersonconcerned,andItellyoufranklythatIdon’tcareadamnabouttheformula.Myfatherwasarichman.Thisdiscoveryofhiswasworthagreatdealofmoney,butIdon’tneedmorethanI’vegot,andIcan’tpretendtosharehisenthusiasminthematter.Thereareexplosivesenoughintheworldalready.’
‘Isee,’murmuredPoirotthoughtfully
‘WhatIsay,’continuedRichard,‘isthatweshouldletthewholethingdrop.’
Poirot’seyebrowsshotup,ashemadehisfamiliargestureofsurprise.‘YoupreferthatIshoulddepart?’heasked.‘ThatIshouldmakenofurtherinvestigations?’
‘Yes,that’sit.’RichardAmorysoundeduncomfortable,ashehalfturnedawayfromPoirot.
‘But,’thedetectivepersisted,‘whoeverstoletheformulawouldnotdosoinordertomakenouseofit.’
‘No,’Richardadmitted.HeturnedbacktoPoirot.‘Butstill–’
Slowlyandmeaningfully,Poirotcontinued,‘Thenyoudonotobjecttothe–howshallIputit–thestigma?’
‘Stigma?’exclaimedRichardsharply.
‘Fivepeople–’Poirotexplainedtohim,‘fivepeoplehadtheopportunityofstealingtheformula.Untiloneisprovedguilty,theotherfourcannotbeprovedinnocent.’
TredwellhadenteredtheroomwhilePoirotwasspeaking.AsRichardbegantostammerirresolutely,‘I–thatis–’thebutlerinterruptedhim.
‘Ibegyourpardon,sir,’hesaidtohisemployer,‘butDrGrahamishere,andwouldliketoseeyou.’
ClearlygladoftheopportunitytoescapefurtherquestioningfromPoirot,Richardreplied,‘I’llcomeatonce,’movingtothedoorashespoke.TurningtoPoirot,heasked,formally,‘Wouldyouexcuseme,please?’asheleftwithTredwell.
Whenthetwomenhaddeparted,HastingsrosefromthesetteeandapproachedPoirot,burstingwithsuppressedexcitement.‘Isay!’heexclaimed.‘Poison,eh?’
‘What,mydearHastings?’askedPoirot.
‘Poison,surely!’Hastingsrepeated,noddinghisheadvigorously.
Chapter9
Poirotsurveyedhisfriendwithanamusedtwinkleinhiseye.‘Howdramaticyouare,mydearHastings!’heexclaimed.‘Withwhatswiftnessandbrillianceyouleaptoconclusions!’
‘Nowthen,Poirot,’Hastingsprotested,‘youcan’tputmeoffthatway.You’renotgoingtopretendthatyouthinktheoldfellowdiedofheartdisease.Whathappenedlastnightpositivelyleapstotheeye.ButImustsayRichardAmorycan’tbeaverybrightsortofchap.Thepossibilityofpoisondoesn’tseemtohaveoccurredtohim.’
‘Youthinknot,myfriend?’askedPoirot.
‘Ispotteditlastnight,whenDrGrahamannouncedthathecouldn’tissueadeathcertificateandsaidthattherewouldhavetobeanautopsy.’
Poirotgaveaslightsigh.‘Yes,yes,’hemurmuredplacatingly.‘ItistheresultoftheautopsythatDrGrahamcomestoannouncethismorning.Weshallknowwhetheryouarerightornotinaveryfewminutes.’Poirotseemedtobeabouttosaysomethingfurther,butthencheckedhimself.Hemovedtothemantelpiece,andbegantoadjustthevasecontainingthespillsusedforlightingthefire.
Hastingswatchedhimaffectionately.‘Isay,Poirot,’helaughed,‘whatafellowyouareforneatness.’
‘Isnottheeffectmorepleasingnow?’askedPoirot,ashesurveyedthemantelpiecewithhisheadononeside.
Hastingssnorted.‘Ican’tsayitworriedmegreatlybefore.’
‘Beware!’saidPoirot,shakinganadmonishingfingerathim.‘Thesymmetry,itiseverything.Everywherethereshouldbeneatnessandorder,especiallyinthelittlegreycellsofthebrain.’Hetappedhisheadashespoke.
‘Oh,comeon,don’tleapontoyourhobbyhorse,’Hastingsbeggedhim.‘Justtellmewhatyourpreciouslittlegreycellsmakeofthisbusiness.’
Poirotmovedtothesettee,andsatbeforereplying.HeregardedHastingssteadily,hiseyesnarrowinglikeacat’suntiltheyshowedonlyagleamofgreen.‘Ifyouwoulduseyourgreycells,andattempttoseethewholecaseclearly–asIattempttodo–youwouldperhapsperceivethetruth,myfriend,’heannouncedsmugly.‘However,’hecontinued,inatonewhichsuggestedthatheconsideredhewasbehavingwithgreatmagnanimity,‘beforeDrGrahamarrives,letusfirstheartheideasofmyfriendHastings.’
‘Well,’Hastingsbegan,eagerly,‘thekeybeingfoundunderthesecretary’schairissuspicious.’
‘Youthinkso,doyou,Hastings?’
‘Ofcourse,’hisfriendreplied.‘Highlysuspicious.But,onthewhole,IplumpfortheItalian.’
‘Ah!’Poirotmurmured.‘ThemysteriousDrCarelli.’
‘Mysterious,exactly,’Hastingscontinued.‘That’spreciselytherightwordforhim.Whatishedoing,downhereinthecountry?I’lltellyou.HewasafterSirClaudAmory’sformula.He’salmostcertainlytheemissaryofaforeigngovernment.YouknowthekindofthingImean.’
‘Ido,indeed,Hastings,’Poirotrespondedwithasmile.‘Afterall,Idooccasionallygotothecinema,youknow.’
‘AndifitturnsoutthatSirClaudwasindeedpoisoned’–Hastingswasnowwellintohisstride–‘itmakesDrCarellimorethanevertheprimesuspect.RemembertheBorgias?PoisonisaveryItaliansortofcrime.ButwhatI’mafraidofisthatCarelliwillgetawaywiththeformulainhispossession.’
‘Hewillnotdothat,myfriend,’saidPoirot,shakinghishead.
‘Howonearthcanyoubesosure?’Hastingsenquired.
Poirotleanedbackinhischair,andbroughtthetipsofhisfingerstogetherinhisfamiliarmanner.‘Idonotexactlyknow,Hastings,’headmitted.‘Icannotbesure,ofcourse.ButIhavealittleidea.’
‘Whatdoyoumean?’
‘Wheredoyouthinkthatformulaisnow,myclevercollaborator?’Poirotasked.
‘HowshouldIknow?’
PoirotlookedatHastingsforamoment,asthoughgivinghisfriendachancetoconsiderthequestion.Then,‘Think,myfriend,’hesaidencouragingly.‘Arrangeyourideas.Bemethodical.Beorderly.Thatisthesecretofsuccess.’WhenHastingsmerelyshookhisheadwithaperplexedair,thedetectiveattemptedtogivehiscolleagueaclue.‘Thereisonlyoneplacewhereitcanbe,’Poirottoldhim.
‘Andwhereisthat,forheaven’ssake?’Hastingsasked,withadistinctnoteofirritationinhisvoice.
‘Inthisroom,ofcourse,’Poirotannounced,atriumphantCheshirecat-likegrinappearingonhisface.
‘Whatonearthdoyoumean?’
‘Butyes,Hastings.Justconsiderthefacts.WeknowfromthegoodTredwellthatSirClaudtookcertainprecautionstopreventtheformulafrombeingremovedfromthisroom.Whenhespranghislittlesurpriseandannouncedourimminentarrival,itisquitecertain,therefore,thatthethiefstillhadtheformulaonhisperson.Whatmusthedo?HedarenotriskhavingitfoundonhimwhenIarrived.Hecandoonlytwothings.Hecanreturnit,inthemannersuggestedbySirClaud,orelsehecanhideitsomewhere,undercoverofthatoneminuteoftotaldarkness.Sincehedidnotdothefirst,hemusthavedonethesecond.Voilà!Itisobvioustomethattheformulaishiddeninthisroom.’
‘ByGod,Poirot,’Hastingsexclaimedingreatexcitement,‘Ibelieveyou’reright!Let’slookforit.’Herosequickly,andmovedtothedesk.
‘Byallmeans,ifitamusesyou,’Poirotresponded.‘Butthereissomeonewhowillbeabletofinditmoreeasilythanyoucan.’
‘Oh,andwhoisthat?’askedHastings
Poirottwirledhismoustachewithenormousenergy.‘Why,thepersonwhohidit,parbleu!’heexclaimed,accompanyinghiswordswiththekindofgesturemoresuitablyemployedbyamagicianpullingarabbitoutofahat.
‘Youmeanthat–’
‘Imean,’Poirotexplainedpatientlytohiscolleague,‘thatsoonerorlaterthethiefwilltrytorecapturehisbooty.Oneortheotherofus,therefore,mustconstantlyremainonguard–’Hearingthedoorbeingopenedslowlyandcautiously,hebrokeoff,andbeckonedHastingstojoinhimbythegramophone,outoftheimmediatesightofanyoneenteringtheroom.
Chapter10
Thedooropened,andBarbaraAmoryenteredtheroomcautiously.Takingachairfromnearthewall,sheplaceditinfrontofthebookcase,climbedonit,andreachedforthetinboxcontainingthedrugs.Atthatmoment,Hastingssuddenlysneezed,andBarbara,withastart,droppedthebox.‘Oh!’sheexclaimedinsomeconfusion.‘Ididn’tknowtherewasanyonehere.’
Hastingsrushedforwardandretrievedthebox,whichPoirotthentookfromhim.‘Permitme,mademoiselle,’saidthedetective.‘Iamsurethatistooheavyforyou.’Hemovedtothetableandplacedthetinboxuponit.‘Itisalittlecollectionofyours?’heasked.‘Thebirds’eggs?Theseashells,perhaps?’
‘I’mafraidit’smuchmoreprosaic,MonsieurPoirot,’repliedBarbara,withanervouslaugh.‘Nothingbutpillsandpowders!’
‘Butsurely,’saidPoirot,‘onesoyoung,sofullofhealthandvigour,hasnoneedofthesebagatelles?’
‘Oh,it’snotforme,’Barbaraassuredhim.‘It’sforLucia.She’sgotsuchanawfulheadachethismorning.’
‘Lapauvredame,’murmuredPoirot,hisvoicedrippingwithsympathy.‘Shesentyouforthesepills,then?’
‘Yes,’repliedBarbara.‘Igaveheracoupleofaspirin,butshewantedsomerealdope.IsaidI’dbringupthewholeoutfit–thatis,ifnoonewerehere.’
Poirot,leaninghishandsonthebox,spokethoughtfully.‘Ifnoonewerehere.Whywouldthatmatter,mademoiselle?’
‘Well,youknowwhatitisinaplacelikethis,’Barbaraexplained.‘Fuss,fuss,fuss!Imean,AuntCarolineforinstanceislikeacluckyoldhen!AndRichard’sadamnednuisanceandcompletelyuselessintothebargain,asmenalwaysarewhenyou’reill.’
Poirotnoddedincomprehension.‘Iunderstand,Iunderstand,’hetoldBarbara,bowinghisheadasasignthatheacceptedherexplanation.Herubbedhisfingersalongthelidofthecasecontainingthedrugs,andthenlookedquicklyathishands.Pausingforamoment,heclearedhisthroatwithaslightlyaffectedsound,andthenwenton,‘Doyouknow,mademoiselle,thatyouareveryfortunateinyourdomesticservants?’
‘Whatdoyoumean?’askedBarbara.
Poirotshowedherthetinbox.‘See–’hepointedout,‘onthisboxthereisnospeckofdust.Tomountonachairandbothertodustsohighupthere–notalldomesticswouldbesoconscientious.’
‘Yes,’Barbaraagreed.‘Ithoughtitoddlastnightthatitwasn’tdusty.’
‘Youhadthiscaseofdrugsdownlastnight?’Poirotaskedher.
‘Yes,afterdinner.It’sfullofoldhospitalstuff,youknow.’
‘Letushavealookatthesehospitaldrugs,’suggestedPoirotasheopenedthebox.Takingoutsomephialsandholdingthemup,heraisedhiseyebrowsexaggeratedly.‘Strychnine–atropine–averyprettylittlecollection!Ah!Hereisatubeofhyoscine,nearlyempty!’
‘What?’exclaimedBarbara.‘Why,theywereallfulllastnight.I’msuretheywere.’
‘Voilà!’Poirotheldoutatubetoher,andthenreplaceditinthebox.‘Thisisverycurious.Yousaythatalltheselittle–whatdoyoucallthem–phials–werefull?Whereexactlywasthiscaseofdrugslastnight,mademoiselle?’
‘Well,whenwetookitdown,weplaceditonthistable,’Barbarainformedhim.‘AndDrCarelliwaslookingthroughthedrugs,commentingonthemand–’
ShebrokeoffasLuciaenteredtheroom.RichardAmory’swifelookedsurprisedtoseethetwomen.Herpale,proudfaceseemedcareworninthedaylight,andtherewassomethingwistfulinthecurveofhermouth.Barbarahastenedtoher.‘Oh,darling,youshouldn’thavegotup,’shetoldLucia.‘Iwasjustcominguptoyou.’
‘Myheadacheismuchbetter,Barbaradear,’Luciareplied,hereyesfixedonPoirot.‘IcamedownbecauseIwanttospeaktoMonsieurPoirot.’
‘But,mypet,don’tyouthinkyoushould–’
‘Please,Barbara.’
‘Oh,verywell,youknowbest,’saidBarbaraasshemovedtothedoor,whichHastingsrushedtoopenforher.Whenshehadgone,Luciamovedtoachairandsatdown.‘MonsieurPoirot–’shebegan.
‘Iamatyourservice,madame,’Poirotrespondedpolitely.
Luciaspokehesitantly,andhervoicetrembledalittle.‘MonsieurPoirot,’shebeganagain,‘lastnightImadearequesttoyou.Iaskedyoutostayonhere.I–Ibeggedyoutodoso.ThismorningIseethatImadeamistake.’
‘Areyousure,madame?’Poirotaskedherquietly.
‘Quitesure.Iwasnervouslastnight,andover-wrought.IammostgratefultoyoufordoingwhatIasked,butnowitisbetterthatyoushouldgo.’
‘Ah,c’estcomme?a!’Poirotmurmuredbeneathhisbreath.Aloud,hisresponsewasmerelyanoncommittal,‘Isee,madame.’
Rising,Luciaglancedathimnervouslyassheasked,‘Thatissettled,then?’
‘Notquite,madame,’repliedPoirot,takingasteptowardsher.‘Ifyouremember,youexpressedadoubtthatyourfather-in-lawhaddiedanaturaldeath.’
‘Iwashystericallastnight,’Luciainsisted.‘IdidnotknowwhatIwassaying.’
‘Thenyouarenowconvinced,’Poirotpersisted,‘thathisdeathwas,afterall,natural?’
‘Absolutely,’Luciadeclared.
Poirot’seyebrowsroseatrifle.Helookedatherinsilence.
‘Whydoyoulookatmelikethat?’Luciaaskedwithalarminhervoice.
‘Because,madame,itissometimesdifficulttosetadogonthescent.Butoncehehasfoundit,nothingonearthwillmakehimleaveit.Notifheisagooddog.AndI,madame,I,HerculePoirot,amaverygooddog!’
Ingreatagitation,Luciadeclared,‘Oh!Butyoumust,youreallymustgo.Ibegyou,Iimploreyou.Youdon’tknowwhatharmyoumaydobyremaining!’
‘Harm?’askedPoirot.‘Toyou,madame?’
‘Toallofus,MonsieurPoirot.Ican’texplainfurther,butIbegyoutoacceptmywordthatitisso.FromthefirstmomentIsawyou,Itrustedyou.Please–’
Shebrokeoffasthedooropened,andRichard,lookingshocked,enteredwithDrGraham.‘Lucia!’herhusbandexclaimedashecaughtsightofher.
‘Richard,whatisit?’askedLuciaanxiouslyassherushedtohisside.‘Whathashappened?Somethingnewhashappened,Icanseeitinyourface.Whatisit?’
‘Nothing,mydear,’repliedRichardwithanattemptatreassuranceinhistone.‘Doyoumindleavingusforamoment?’
Lucia’seyessearchedhisface.‘Can’tI–’shebegan,buthesitatedasRichardmovedtothedoorandopenedit.‘Please,’herepeated.
Withafinalbackwardglanceinwhichtherewasadistinctelementoffear,Lucialefttheroom.
Chapter11
PuttinghisGladstonebagonthecoffeetable,DrGrahamcrossedtothesetteeandsatdown.‘I’mafraidthisisabadbusiness,MonsieurPoirot,’heannouncedtothedetective.
‘Abadbusiness,yousay?Yes?YouhavediscoveredwhatcausedthedeathofSirClaud?’askedPoirot.
‘Hisdeathwasduetopoisoningbyapowerfulvegetablealkaloid,’Grahamdeclared.
‘Suchashyoscine,perhaps?’Poirotsuggested,pickingupthetinboxofdrugsfromthetable.
‘Why,yes,exactly.’DrGrahamsoundedsurprisedatthedetective’saccuratesurmise.Poirottookthecasetotheothersideoftheroom,placingitonthegramophonetable,andHastingsfollowedhimthere.Meanwhile,RichardAmoryjoinedthedoctoronthesettee.‘Whatdoesthismean,actually?’RichardaskedDrGraham.
‘Foronething,itmeanstheinvolvementofthepolice,’wasGraham’spromptreply.
‘MyGod!’exclaimedRichard.‘Thisisterrible.Can’tyoupossiblyhushitup?’
DrGrahamlookedatRichardAmorysteadilybeforehespoke,slowlyanddeliberately.‘MydearRichard,’hesaid.‘Believeme,nobodycouldbemorepainedandgrievedatthishorriblecalamitythanIam.Especiallysince,underthecircumstances,itdoesnotseemlikelythatthepoisoncouldhavebeenself-administered.’
Richardpausedforseveralsecondsbeforehespoke.‘Areyousayingitwasmurder?’heaskedinanunsteadyvoice.
DrGrahamdidnotspeak,butnoddedsolemnly.
‘Murder!’exclaimedRichard.‘Whatoneartharewegoingtodo?’
Adoptingabrisker,morebusiness-likemanner,Grahamexplainedtheproceduretobefollowed.‘Ihavenotifiedthecoroner.TheinquestwillbeheldtomorrowattheKing’sArms.’
‘And–youmean–thepolicewillhavetobeinvolved?There’snowayoutofit?’
‘Thereisnot.Surelyyoumustrealizethat,Richard?’saidDrGraham.
Richard’stonewasfranticashebegantoexclaim,‘Butwhydidn’tyouwarnmethat–’
‘Comeon,Richard.Takeaholdofyourself.I’msureyouunderstandthatIhaveonlytakensuchstepsasIthoughtabsolutelynecessary,’Grahaminterruptedhim.‘Afterall,notimeshouldbelostinmattersofthiskind.’
‘MyGod!’exclaimedRichard.
DrGrahamaddressedAmoryinakindliertone.‘Richard,Iknow.Idounderstand.Thishasbeenaterribleshocktoyou.ButtherearethingsImustaskyouabout.Doyoufeelequaltoansweringafewquestions?’
Richardmadeavisibleefforttopullhimselftogether.‘Whatdoyouwanttoknow?’heasked.
‘Firstofall,’saidGraham,‘whatfoodanddrinkdidyourfatherhaveatdinnerlastnight?’
‘Let’ssee,weallhadthesame.Soup,friedsole,cutlets,andwefinishedoffwithafruitsalad.’
‘Now,whataboutdrink?’continuedDrGraham.
Richardconsideredforamomentbeforereplying.‘Myfatherandmyauntdrankburgundy.SodidRaynor,Ithink.Istuckwithwhiskyandsoda,andDrCarelli–yes,DrCarellidrankwhitewinethroughoutthemeal.’
‘Ah,yes,themysteriousDrCarelli,’Grahammurmured.‘You’llexcuseme,Richard,buthowmuchpreciselydoyouknowaboutthisman?’
InterestedtohearRichardAmory’sreplytothis,Hastingsmovedclosertothetwomen.InanswertoDrGraham,Richarddeclared,‘Iknownothingabouthim.I’dnevermethim,orevenheardofhim,untilyesterday.’
‘Butheisafriendofyourwife?’askedthedoctor.
‘Apparentlyheis.’
‘Doessheknowhimintimately?’
‘Oh,no,heisamereacquaintance,Igather.’
Grahammadealittleclickingsoundwithhistongue,andshookhishead.‘You’venotallowedhimtoleavethehouse,Ihope?’heasked.
‘No,no,’Richardassuredhim.‘Ipointedouttohimlastnightthat,untilthismatterwasclearedup–thebusinessoftheformulabeingstolen,Imean–itwouldbebestforhimtoremainhereatthehouse.Infact,Isentdowntotheinnwherehehadaroom,andhadhisthingsbroughtuphere.’
‘Didn’themakeanyprotestatall?’Grahamaskedinsomesurprise.
‘Oh,no,infactheagreedquiteeagerly.’
‘H’m,’wasGraham’sonlyresponsetothis.Then,lookingabouthim,heasked,‘Wellnow,whataboutthisroom?’
Poirotapproachedthetwomen.‘ThedoorswerelockedlastnightbyTredwell,thebutler,’heassuredDrGraham,‘andthekeysweregiventome.Everythingisexactlyasitwas,exceptthatwehavemovedthechairs,asyousee.’
DrGrahamlookedatthecoffeecuponthetable.Pointingtoit,heasked,‘Isthatthecup?’Hewentacrosstothetable,pickedupthecupandsniffedatit.‘Richard,’heasked,‘isthisthecupyourfatherdrankfrom?I’dbettertakeit.Itwillhavetobeanalysed.’Carryingthecupovertothecoffeetable,heopenedhisbag.
Richardsprangtohisfeet.‘Surelyyoudon’tthink–’hebegan,butthenbrokeoff.
‘Itseemshighlyunlikely,’Grahamtoldhim,‘thatthepoisoncouldhavebeenadministeredatdinner.ThemostlikelyexplanationisthatthehyoscinewasaddedtoSirClaud’scoffee.’
‘I–I–’Richardtriedtoutterasheroseandtookasteptowardsthedoctor,butthenbrokeoffwithadespairinggesture,andlefttheroomabruptlythroughthefrenchwindowsintothegarden.
DrGrahamtookasmallcardboardboxofcottonwoolfromhisbag,andcarefullypackedthecupinit,talkingtoPoirotashedidso.‘Anastybusiness,’heconfided.‘I’mnotatallsurprisedthatRichardAmoryisupset.ThenewspaperswillmakethemostofthisItaliandoctor’sfriendshipwithhiswife.Andmudtendstostick,MonsieurPoirot.Mudtendstostick.Poorlady!Shewasprobablywhollyinnocent.Themanobviouslymadeheracquaintanceinsomeplausibleway.They’reastonishinglyclever,theseforeigners.Ofcourse,IsupposeIshouldn’tbetalkingthisway,asthoughthethingwereaforegoneconclusion,butwhatelseisonetoimagine?’
‘Youthinkitleapstotheeye,yes?’Poirotaskedhim,exchangingglanceswithHastings.
‘Well,afterall,’DrGrahamexplained,‘SirClaud’sinventionwasvaluable.Thisforeignercomesalong,ofwhomnobodyknowsanything.AnItalian.SirClaudismysteriouslypoisoned–’
‘Ah,yes!TheBorgias,’exclaimedPoirot.
‘Ibegyourpardon?’askedthedoctor
‘Nothing,nothing.’
DrGrahampickeduphisbagandpreparedtoleave,holdingouthishandtoPoirot.‘Well,I’dbestbeoff.’
‘Goodbye–forthepresent,Monsieurledocteur,’saidPoirotastheyshookhands.
Atthedoor,Grahampausedandlookedback.‘Goodbye,MonsieurPoirot.Youwillseethatnobodydisturbsanythinginthisroomuntilthepolicearrive,won’tyou?That’sextremelyimportant.’
‘Mostcertainly,Ishallmakemyselfresponsibleforit,’Poirotassuredhim
AsGrahamleft,closingthedoorbehindhim,Hastingsobserveddryly,‘Youknow,Poirot,Ishouldn’tliketobeillinthishouse.Foronething,thereappearstobeapoisoneratlooseintheplace–and,foranother,I’mnotatallsureItrustthatyoungdoctor.’
PoirotgaveHastingsaquizzicallook.‘Letushopethatwewillnotbeinthishouselongenoughtobecomeill,’hesaid,movingtothefireplaceandpressingthebell.‘Andnow,mydearHastings,towork,’heannouncedasherejoinedhiscolleaguewhowascontemplatingthecoffeetablewithapuzzledexpression.
‘Whatareyougoingtodo?’Hastingsasked.
‘YouandI,myfriend,’repliedPoirotwithatwinkleinhiseye,‘aregoingtointerviewCesareBorgia.’
TredwellenteredinresponsetoPoirot’scall.‘Yourang,sir?’thebutlerasked.
‘Yes,Tredwell.WillyoupleaseasktheItaliangentleman,DrCarelli,ifhewouldbekindenoughtocomehere?’
‘Certainly,sir,’Tredwellreplied.Helefttheroom,andPoirotwenttothetabletopickupthecaseofdrugs.‘Itwouldbewell,Ithink,’heconfidedtoHastings,‘ifweweretoputthisboxofsoverydangerousdrugsbackinitsproperplace.Letus,aboveallthings,beneatandorderly.’
HandingthetinboxtoHastings,Poirottookachairtothebookcaseandclimbedontoit.‘Theoldcryforneatnessandsymmetry,eh?’Hastingsexclaimed.‘Butthere’smoretoitthanthat,Iimagine.’
‘Whatdoyoumean,myfriend?’askedPoirot.
‘Iknowwhatitis.Youdon’twanttoscareCarelli.Afterall,whohandledthosedrugslastnight?Amongstothers,hedid.Ifhesawthemdownonthetable,itmightputhimonhisguard,eh,Poirot?’
PoirottappedHastingsonthehead.‘HowastuteismyfriendHastings,’hedeclared,takingthecasefromhim.
‘Iknowyoutoowell,’Hastingsinsisted.‘Youcan’tthrowdustinmyeyes.’
AsHastingsspoke,Poirotdrewafingeralongthetopofthebookshelf,sweepingdustdownintohisfriend’supturnedface.‘Itseemstome,mydearHastings,thatthatispreciselywhatIhavedone,’Poirotexclaimedashegingerlydrewafingeralongtheshelfagain,makingagrimaceashedidso.‘ItappearsthatIhavepraisedthedomesticstoosoon.Thisshelfisthickwithdust.IwishIhadagoodwetdusterinmyhandtocleanitup!’
‘MydearPoirot,’Hastingslaughed,‘you’renotahousemaid.’
‘Alas,no,’observedPoirotsadly.‘Iamonlyadetective!’
‘Well,there’snothingtodetectupthere,’Hastingsdeclared,‘sogetdown.’
‘Asyousay,thereisnothing–’Poirotbegan,andthenstoppeddead,standingquitestillonthechairasthoughturnedtostone.
‘Whatisit?’Hastingsaskedhimimpatiently,adding,‘Dogetdown,Poirot.DrCarelliwillbehereatanyminute.Youdon’twanthimtofindyouupthere,doyou?’
‘Youareright,myfriend,’Poirotagreedashegotdownslowlyfromthechair.Hisfaceworeasolemnexpression.
‘Whatonearthisthematter?’askedHastings.
‘ItisthatIamthinkingofsomething,’Poirotrepliedwithafarawaylookinhiseyes.
‘Whatareyouthinkingof?’
‘Dust,Hastings.Dust,’saidPoirotinanoddvoice.
Thedooropened,andDrCarellienteredtheroom.HeandPoirotgreetedeachotherwiththegreatestofceremony,eachpolitelyspeakingtheother’snativetongue.‘Ah,MonsieurPoirot,’Carellibegan.‘Vousvoulezmequestionner?’
‘Si,signordottore,sileipermette,’Poirotreplied.
‘Ah,leiparlaItaliano?’
‘Si,mapreferiscoparlareinFrancese.’
‘Alors,’saidCarelli,‘qu’est-cequevousvoulezmedemander?’
‘Isay,’Hastingsinterjectedwithacertainirritationinhisvoice.‘Whatthedevilisallthis?’
‘Ah,thepoorHastingsisnotalinguist.Ihadforgotten,’Poirotsmiled.‘WehadbetterspeakEnglish.’
‘Ibegyourpardon.Ofcourse,’Carelliagreed.HeaddressedPoirotwithanairofgreatfrankness.‘Iamgladthatyouhavesentforme,MonsieurPoirot,’hedeclared.‘Hadyounotdoneso,Ishouldmyselfhaverequestedaninterview.’
‘Indeed?’remarkedPoirot,indicatingachairbythetable.
Carellisat,whilePoirotseatedhimselfinthearmchair,andHastingsmadehimselfcomfortableonthesettee.‘Yes,’theItaliandoctorcontinued.‘Asithappens,IhavebusinessinLondonofanurgentnature.’
‘Pray,continue,’Poirotencouragedhim.
‘Yes.Ofcourse,Iquiteappreciatedthepositionlastnight.Avaluabledocumenthadbeenstolen.Iwastheonlystrangerpresent.Naturally,Iwasonlytoowillingtoremain,topermitmyselftobesearched,infacttoinsistonbeingsearched.Asamanofhonour,Icoulddonothingelse.’
‘Quiteso,’Poirotagreed.‘Buttoday?’
‘Todayisdifferent,’repliedCarelli.‘Ihave,asIsay,urgentbusinessinLondon.’
‘Andyouwishtotakeyourdeparture?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Itseemsmostreasonable,’Poirotdeclared.‘Doyounotthinkso,Hastings?’
Hastingsmadenoreply,butlookedasthoughhedidnotthinkitatallreasonable.
‘Perhapsawordfromyou,MonsieurPoirot,toMrAmory,wouldbeinorder,’Carellisuggested.‘Ishouldliketoavoidanyunpleasantness.’
‘Mygoodofficesareatyourdisposal,Monsieurledocteur,’Poirotassuredhim.‘Andnow,perhapsyoucanassistmewithoneortwodetails.’
‘Ishouldbeonlytoohappytodoso,’Carellireplied.
Poirotconsideredforamoment,beforeasking,‘IsMadameRichardAmoryanoldfriendofyours?’
‘Averyoldfriend,’saidCarelli.Hesighed.‘Itwasadelightfulsurprise,runningacrosshersounexpectedlyinthisout-of-the-wayspot.’
‘Unexpectedly,yousay?’Poirotasked
‘Quiteunexpectedly,’Carellireplied,withaquickglanceatthedetective.
‘Quiteunexpectedly,’Poirotrepeated.‘Fancythat!’
Acertaintensionhadcreptintotheatmosphere.CarellilookedatPoirotsharply,butsaidnothing.
‘Youareinterestedinthelatestdiscoveriesofscience?’Poirotaskedhim.
‘Certainly.Iamadoctor.’
‘Ah!Butthatdoesnotquitefollow,surely,’Poirotobserved.‘Anewvaccine,anewray,anewgerm–allthis,yes.Butanewexplosive,surelythatisnotquitetheprovinceofadoctorofmedicine?’
‘Scienceshouldbeofinteresttoallofus,’Carelliinsisted.‘Itrepresentsthetriumphofmanovernature.Manwringssecretsfromnatureinspiteofherbitteropposition.’
Poirotnoddedhisheadinagreement.‘Itisindeedadmirable,whatyousaythere.Itispoetic!But,asmyfriendHastingsremindedmejustnow,Iamonlyadetective.Iappreciatethingsfromamorepracticalstandpoint.ThisdiscoveryofSirClaud’s–itwasworthagreatamountofmoney,eh?’
‘Possibly,’Carelli’stonewasdismissive.‘Ihavenotgiventhatsideofthemattermuchthought.’
‘Youareevidentlyamanofloftyprinciples,’observedPoirot,‘andalso,nodoubt,amanofmeans.Travelling,forinstance,isanexpensivehobby.’
‘Oneshouldseetheworldonelivesin,’saidCarellidryly.
‘Indeed,’Poirotagreed.‘Andthepeoplewholiveinit.Curiouspeople,someofthem.Thethief,forinstance–whatacuriousmentalityhemusthave!’
‘Asyousay,’Carelliagreed,‘mostcurious.’
‘Andtheblackmailer,’Poirotcontinued.
‘Whatdoyoumean?’Carelliaskedsharply.
‘Isaid,theblackmailer,’Poirotrepeated.Therewasanawkwardpause,beforehecontinued,‘butwearewanderingfromoursubject–thedeathofSirClaudAmory.’
‘ThedeathofSirClaudAmory?Whyisthatoursubject?’
‘Ah,ofcourse,’Poirotrecalled.‘Youdonotyetknow.IamafraidthatSirClauddidnotdieastheresultofaheartattack.Hewaspoisoned.’HewatchedtheItaliancloselyforhisreaction.
‘Ah!’murmuredCarelli,withanodofthehead.
‘Thatdoesnotsurpriseyou?’askedPoirot.
‘Frankly,no,’Carellireplied.‘Isuspectedasmuchlastnight.’
‘Yousee,then,’Poirotcontinued,‘thatthematterhasbecomemuchmoreserious.’Histonechanged.‘Youwillnotbeabletoleavethehousetoday,DrCarelli.’
LeaningforwardtoPoirot,Carelliasked,‘DoyouconnectSirClaud’sdeathwiththestealingoftheformula?’
‘Certainly,’Poirotreplied.‘Donotyou?’
Carellispokequicklyandurgently.‘Istherenooneinthishouse,nomemberofhisfamily,whodesiredthedeathofSirClaud,quiteapartfromanyquestionoftheformula?Whatdoeshisdeathmeantomostofthepeopleinthishouse?Iwilltellyou.Itmeansfreedom,MonsieurPoirot.Freedom,andwhatyoumentionedjustnow–money.Thatoldmanwasatyrant,andapartfromhisbelovedworkhewasamiser.’
‘Didyouobserveallthislastnight,Monsieurledocteur?’askedPoirot,innocently.
‘WhatifIdid?’repliedCarelli.‘Ihaveeyes.Icansee.AtleastthreeofthepeopleinthishousewantedSirClaudoutoftheway.’Herose,andlookedattheclockonthemantelpiece.‘Butthatdoesnotconcernmenow.’
Hastingsleanedforward,lookingveryinterested,asCarellicontinued,‘IamvexedthatIcannotkeepmyappointmentinLondon.’
‘Iamdesolated,Monsieurledocteur,’saidPoirot.‘ButwhatcanIdo?’
‘Well,then,youhavenofurtherneedofme?’askedCarelli.
‘Forthemoment,no,’Poirottoldhim
DrCarellimovedtothedoor.‘Iwilltellyouonethingmore,MonsieurPoirot,’heannounced,openingthedoorandturningbacktofacethedetective.‘Therearesomewomenwhomitisdangeroustodrivetoofar.’
Poirotbowedtohimpolitely,andCarellireturnedhisbowsomewhatmoreironicallybeforemakinghisexit.
Chapter12
WhenCarellihadlefttheroom,Hastingsstaredafterhimforafewmoments.‘Isay,Poirot,’heaskedfinally,‘whatdoyouthinkhemeantbythat?’
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.‘Itwasaremarkofnoconsequence,’hedeclared.
‘ButPoirot,’Hastingspersisted,‘I’msureCarelliwastryingtotellyousomething.’
‘Ringthebelloncemore,Hastings,’wasthelittledetective’sonlyresponse.Hastingsdidashewasbidden,butcouldnotrefrainfromafurtherenquiry.‘Whatareyougoingtodonow?’
Poirot’sreplywasinhismostenigmaticvein.‘Youwillsee,mydearHastings.Patienceisagreatvirtue.’
Tredwellenteredtheroomagainwithhisusualrespectfulenquiryof‘Yes,sir?’Poirotbeamedathimgenially.‘Ah,Tredwell.WillyoupresentmycomplimentstoMissCarolineAmory,andaskherifshewillbegoodenoughtoallowmeafewminutesofhertime?’
‘Certainly,sir.’
‘Ithankyou,Tredwell.’
Whenthebutlerhadleft,Hastingsexclaimed,‘Buttheoldsoul’sinbed.Surelyyou’renotgoingtomakehergetup,ifsheisn’tfeelingwell.’
‘MyfriendHastingsknowseverything!Sosheisinbed,yes?’
‘Well,isn’tshe?’
Poirotpattedhisfriend’sshoulderaffectionately.‘ThatisjustwhatIwanttofindout.’
‘But,surely–’Hastingselaborated.‘Don’tyouremember?RichardAmorysaidso.’
Thedetectiveregardedhisfriendsteadily.‘Hastings,’hedeclared,‘hereisamankilled.Andhowdoeshisfamilyreact?Withlies,lies,lieseverywhere!WhydoesMadameAmorywantmetogo?WhydoesMonsieurAmorywantmetogo?Whydoeshewishtopreventmefromseeinghisaunt?Whatcanshetellmethathedoesnotwantmetohear?Itellyou,Hastings,whatwehavehereisdrama!Notasimple,sordidcrime,butdrama.Poignant,humandrama!’
HelookedasthoughhewouldhaveexpandedonthisthemehadnotMissAmoryenteredatthatmoment.‘MonsieurPoirot,’sheaddressedhimassheclosedthedoor,‘Tredwelltellsmeyouwantedtoseeme.’
‘Ahyes,mademoiselle,’Poirotdeclaredashewenttoher.‘ItisjustthatIwouldliketoaskyouafewquestions.Willyounotsitdown?’Heledhertoachairbythetable,andshesat,lookingathimnervously.‘ButIunderstoodthatyouwereprostrated,ill?’Poirotcontinuedashesatontheothersideofthetable,andregardedherwithanexpressionofanxioussolicitude.
‘It’sallbeenaterribleshock,ofcourse,’CarolineAmorysighed.‘Reallyterrible!ButwhatIalwayssayis,somebodymustkeeptheirhead.Theservants,youknow,areinaturmoil.Well,’shecontinued,speakingmorequickly,‘youknowwhatservantsare,MonsieurPoirot.Theypositivelydelightinfunerals!Theypreferadeathtoawedding,Idobelieve.Now,dearDrGraham!Heissokind–suchacomfort.Areallycleverdoctor,andofcoursehe’ssofondofBarbara.Ithinkit’sapitythatRicharddoesn’tseemtocareforhim,but–whatwasIsaying?Ohyes,DrGraham.Soyoung.Andhequitecuredmyneuritislastyear.NotthatIamoftenill.Now,thisrisinggenerationdoesn’tseemtometobeatallstrong.TherewaspoorLucialastnight,havingtocomeoutfromdinnerfeelingfaint.Ofcourse,poorchild,she’samassofnerves,andwhatelsecanyouexpectwithItalianbloodinherveins?Thoughshewasnotsobad,Iremember,whenherdiamondnecklacewasstolen–’
MissAmorypausedforbreath.Poirot,whileshewasspeaking,hadtakenouthiscigarette-caseandwasabouttolightacigarette,buthepausedandtooktheopportunitytoaskher,‘MadameAmory’sdiamondnecklacewasstolen?Whenwasthis,mademoiselle?’
MissAmoryassumedathoughtfulexpression.‘Letmesee,itmusthavebeen–yes,itwastwomonthsago–justaboutthesametimethatRichardhadsuchaquarrelwithhisfather.’
Poirotlookedatthecigaretteinhishand.‘YoupermitthatIsmoke,mademoiselle?’heasked,andonreceivingasmileandagraciousnodofassent,hetookaboxofmatchesfromhispocket,lithiscigarette,andlookedatMissAmoryencouragingly.Whenthatladymadenoefforttoresumespeaking,Poirotpromptedher.‘IthinkyouweresayingthatMonsieurAmoryquarrelledwithhisfather,’hesuggested.
‘Oh,itwasnothingserious,’MissAmorytoldhim.‘ItwasonlyoverRichard’sdebts.Ofcourse,allyoungmenhavedebts!Although,indeed,Claudhimselfwasneverlikethat.Hewasalwayssostudious,evenwhenhewasalad.Later,ofcourse,hisexperimentsalwaysusedupalotofmoney.IusedtotellhimhewaskeepingRichardtooshortofmoney,youknow.But,yes,abouttwomonthsagotheyhadquiteascene,andwhatwiththat,andLucia’snecklacemissing,andherrefusingtocallinthepolice,itwasaveryupsettingtime.Andsoabsurd,too!Nerves,allnerves!’
‘Youaresurethatmysmokeisnotderangingyou,mademoiselle?’askedPoirot,holdinguphiscigarette.
‘Oh,no,notatall,’MissAmoryassuredhim.‘Ithinkgentlemenoughttosmoke.’
Onlynownoticingthathiscigarettehadfailedtolightproperly,Poirotretrievedhisboxofmatchesfromthetableinfrontofhim.‘Surely,itisaveryunusualthingforayoungandbeautifulwomantotakethelossofherjewelssocalmly?’heasked,ashelithiscigaretteagain,carefullyreplacingtwodeadmatchesintheboxwhichhethenreturnedtohispocket.
‘Yes,itisodd.That’swhatIcallit,’MissAmoryagreed.‘Distinctlyodd!Butthere,shedidn’tseemtocareabit.Ohdear,hereIamgossipingonaboutthingswhichcan’tpossiblyinterestyou,MonsieurPoirot.’
‘Butyouinterestmeenormously,mademoiselle,’Poirotassuredher.‘Tellme,whenMadameAmorycameoutfromdinnerlastnight,feelingfaint,didshegoupstairs?’
‘Oh,no,’repliedCarolineAmory.‘Shecameintothisroom.Isettledherhereonthesofa,andthenIwentbacktothedining-room,leavingRichardwithher.Younghusbandsandwives,youknow,MonsieurPoirot!NotthatyoungmenarenearlysoromanticastheyusedtobewhenIwasagirl!Ohdear!IrememberayoungfellowcalledAloysiusJones
‘Notatall,notatall,’murmuredPoirot,withanamusedglanceatHastings
‘Sostupidofme,’MissAmoryapologized,highlyflustered.‘Ididn’tmean–ofcourse,it’ssodifferentinyourcase.“LesbravesBelges”,asweusedtosayduringthewar.’
‘Please,donotconcernyourself,’Poirotassuredher.Afterapause,hecontinued,asthoughhermentionofthewarhadremindedhim,‘Ibelieve–thatis–Iunderstandthattheboxofdrugsabovethebookcaseisarelicofthewar.Youwereallexaminingitlastnight,wereyounot?’
‘Yes,that’sright.Sowewere.’
‘Now,howdidthatcomeabout?’enquiredPoirot.
MissAmoryconsideredforamoment,beforereplying.‘Now,howdidithappen?Ah,yes,Iremember.IsaidIwishedIhadsomesalvolatile,andBarbaragottheboxdowntolookthroughit,andthenthegentlemencamein,andDrCarellifrightenedmetodeathwiththethingshesaid.’
Hastingsbegantoshowgreatinterestintheturnbeingtakenbythediscussion,andPoirotpromptedMissAmorytocontinue.‘YoumeanthethingsDrCarellisaidaboutthedrugs?Helookedthroughthemandexaminedthemthoroughly,Isuppose?’
‘Yes,’MissAmoryconfirmed,‘andheheldoneglasstubeup,somethingwithamostinnocentname–bromide,Ithink–whichIhaveoftentakenforsea-sickness–andhesaiditwouldkilltwelvestrongmen!’
‘Hyoscinehydrobromide?’askedPoirot
‘Ibegyourpardon?’
‘WasithyoscinehydrobromidethatDrCarelliwasreferringto?’
‘Yes,yes,thatwasit,’MissAmoryexclaimed.‘Howcleverofyou!AndthenLuciatookitfromhim,andrepeatedsomethinghehadsaid–aboutadreamlesssleep.Idetestthismodernneuroticpoetry.Ialwayssaythat,eversincedearLordTennysondied,noonehaswrittenpoetryofany–’
‘Ohdear,’mutteredPoirot.
‘Ibegyourpardon?’askedMissAmory
‘Ah,IwasjustthinkingofthedearLordTennyson.Butpleasegoon.Whathappenednext?’
‘Next?’
‘Youweretellingusaboutlastnight.Here,inthisroom–’
‘Ah,yes.Well,Barbarawantedtoputonanextremelyvulgarsong.Onthegramophone,Imean.Fortunately,Istoppedher.’
‘Isee,’murmuredPoirot.‘Andthislittletubethatthedoctorheldup–wasitfull?’
‘Oh,yes,’MissAmoryrepliedwithouthesitation.‘Because,whenthedoctormadehisquotationaboutdreamlesssleep,hesaidthathalfthetabletsinthetubewouldbesufficient.’
MissAmorygotupfromherchair,andmovedawayfromthetable.‘Youknow,MonsieurPoirot,’shecontinuedasPoirotrosetojoinher,‘I’vesaidallalongthatIdidn’tlikethatman.ThatDrCarelli.There’ssomethingabouthim–notsincere–andsooilyinmanner.Ofcourse,Icouldn’tsayanythinginfrontofLucia,sinceheissupposedtobeafriendofhers,butIdidnotlikehim.Yousee,Luciaissotrusting!I’mcertainthatthemanmusthavewormedhiswayintoherconfidencewithaviewtogettingaskedtothehouseandstealingtheformula.’
PoirotregardedMissAmoryquizzicallybeforeheasked,‘Youhavenodoubt,then,thatitwasDrCarelliwhostoleSirClaud’sformula?’
MissAmorylookedatthedetectiveinsurprise.‘DearMonsieurPoirot!’sheexclaimed.‘Whoelsecouldhavedoneso?Hewastheonlystrangerpresent.Naturally,mybrotherwouldnothavelikedtoaccuseaguest,sohemadeanopportunityforthedocumenttobereturned.Ithoughtitwasverydelicatelydone.Verydelicatelyindeed!’
‘Quiteso,’Poirotagreedtactfully,puttingafriendlyarmaroundMissAmory’sshoulder,tothatlady’sevidentdispleasure.‘Now,mademoiselle,IamgoingtotryalittleexperimentinwhichIwouldlikeyourco-operation.’Heremovedhisarmfromher.‘Wherewereyousittinglastnightwhenthelightswentout?’
‘There!’MissAmorydeclared,indicatingthesettee.
‘Then,wouldyoubesogoodastositthereonceagain?’
MissAmorymovedtothesettee,andsat.‘Now,mademoiselle,’announcedPoirot,‘Iwantyoutomakeastrongeffortoftheimagination!Shutyoureyes,ifyouplease.’
MissAmorydidasshewasasked.‘Thatisright,’Poirotcontinued.‘Now,imaginethatyouarebackagainwhereyouwerelastnight.Itisdark.Youcanseenothing.Butyoucanhear.Throwyourselfback.’
Interpretinghiswordsliterally,MissAmoryflungherselfbackwardsonthesettee.‘No,no,’saidPoirot.‘Imean,throwyourmindback.Whatcanyouhear?Thatisright,castyourmindback.Now,tellmewhatyouhearinthedarkness.’
Impressedbythedetective’sevidentearnestness,MissAmorymadeanefforttodoasherequested.Pausingforamoment,shethenbegantospeak,slowlyandinjerks.‘Gasps,’shesaid.‘Alotoflittlegasps–andthenthenoiseofachairfalling–andametallickindofclink–’
‘Wasitlikethis?’askedPoirot,takingakeyfromhispocketandthrowingitdownonthefloor.Itmadenosound,andMissAmory,afterwaitingforafewseconds,declaredthatshecouldhearnothing.‘Well,likethis,perhaps?’Poirottriedagain,retrievingthekeyfromthefloorandhittingitsharplyagainstthecoffeetable.
‘Why,that’sexactlythesoundIheardlastnight!’MissAmoryexclaimed.‘Howcurious!’
‘Continue,Iprayyou,mademoiselle,’Poirotencouragedher.
‘Well,IheardLuciascreamandcallouttoSirClaud.Andthentheknockingcameonthedoor.’
‘Thatwasall?Youaresure?’
‘Yes,Ithinkso–oh,waitaminute!Rightatthebeginning,therewasacuriousnoise,likethetearingofsilk.Somebody’sdress,Isuppose.’
‘Whosedress,doyouthink?’askedPoirot.‘ItmusthavebeenLucia’s.Itwouldn’thavebeenBarbara’s,becauseshewassittingrightnexttome,here.’
‘Thatiscurious,’murmuredPoirotthoughtfully.
‘Andthatreallyisall,’MissAmoryconcluded.‘MayIopenmyeyesnow?’
‘Ohyes,certainly,mademoiselle.’Asshedidso,Poirotaskedher,‘WhopouredoutSirClaud’scoffee?Wasityou?’
‘No,’MissAmorytoldhim.‘Luciapouredoutthecoffee.’
‘Whenwasthat,exactly?’
‘Itmusthavebeenjustafterweweretalkingaboutthosedreadfuldrugs.’
‘DidMrsAmorytakethecoffeetoSirClaudherself?’
CarolineAmorypausedforthought.‘No–’,shefinallydecided.
‘No?’askedPoirot.‘Then,whodid?’‘Idon’tknow–I’mnotsure–letmesee,now.Ohyes,Iremember!SirClaud’scoffeecupwasonthetablebesideLucia’sowncup.Irememberthat,becauseMrRaynorwascarryingthecuptoSirClaudinthestudy,andLuciacalledhimbackandsaidhehadtakenthewrongcup–whichreallywasverysilly,becausetheywerebothexactlythesame–black,withoutsugar.’
‘So,’Poirotobserved,‘MonsieurRaynortookthecoffeetoSirClaud?’
‘Yes–or,atleast–no,that’sright,Richardtookitfromhim,becauseBarbarawantedtodancewithMrRaynor.’
‘Oh!SoMonsieurAmorytookthecoffeetohisfather.’
‘Yes,that’scorrect,’MissAmoryconfirmed.
‘Ah!’exclaimedPoirot.‘Tellme,whathadMonsieurAmorybeendoingjustbeforethat?Dancing?’
‘Oh,no,’MissAmoryreplied.‘Hehadbeenpackingawaythedrugs.Puttingthemallbackintheboxtidily,youknow.’
‘Isee,Isee.SirClaud,then,drankhiscoffeeinhisstudy?’
‘Isupposehebegantodoso,’MissAmoryremembered.‘Buthecamebackinherewiththecupinhishand.Irememberhiscomplainingaboutthetaste,sayingthatitwasbitter.AndIassureyou,MonsieurPoirot,itwastheverybestcoffee.AspecialmixturethatIhadorderedmyselffromtheArmyandNavyStoresinLondon.Youknow,thatwonderfuldepartmentstoreinVictoriaStreet.It’ssoconvenient,notfarfromtherailwaystation.AndI–’
ShebrokeoffasthedooropenedandEdwardRaynorentered.‘AmIinterrupting?’thesecretaryasked.‘Iamsosorry.IwantedtospeaktoMonsieurPoirot,butIcancomebacklater.’
‘No,no,’declaredPoirot.‘Ihavefinishedputtingthispoorladyupontherack!’
MissAmoryrose.‘I’mafraidIhaven’tbeenabletotellyouanythinguseful,’sheapologized,asshewenttothedoor.
Poirotrose,andwalkedaheadofher.‘Youhavetoldmeagreatdeal,mademoiselle.Morethanyourealize,perhaps,’heassuredMissAmoryasheopenedthedoorforher.
Chapter13
AfterseeingMissAmoryout,PoirotturnedhisattentiontoEdwardRaynor.‘Now,MonsieurRaynor,’hesaidashegesturedthesecretarytoachair,‘letmehearwhatyouhavetotellme.’
Raynorsat,andregardedPoirotearnestly.‘MrAmoryhasjusttoldmethenewsaboutSirClaud.Thecauseofhisdeath,Imean.Thisisamostextraordinarybusiness,monsieur.’
‘Ithascomeasashocktoyou?’askedPoirot.
‘Certainly.Ineversuspectedsuchathing.’Approachinghim,PoirothandedRaynorthekeythathehadfound,watchingthesecretarykeenlyashedidso.‘Haveyoueverseenthiskeybefore,MonsieurRaynor?’heasked.
Raynortookthekey,andturneditaboutinhishandswithapuzzledair.‘ItlooksratherlikethekeytoSirClaud’ssafe,’heobserved.‘ButIunderstandfromMrAmorythatSirClaud’skeywasinitsproperplaceonhischain.’HehandedthekeybacktoPoirot.
‘Yes,thisisakeytothesafeinSirClaud’sstudy,butitisaduplicatekey,’Poirottoldhim,addingslowlyandwithemphasis,‘aduplicatewhichwaslyingonthefloorbesidethechairyouoccupiedlastnight.’
Raynorlookedatthedetectiveunflinchingly.‘IfyouthinkitwasIwhodroppedit,youaremistaken,’hedeclared
Poirotregardedhimsearchinglyforamoment,andthennoddedhisheadasifsatisfied.‘Ibelieveyou,’hesaid.Movingbrisklytothesettee,hesatdownandrubbedhishandstogether.‘Now,letusgettowork,MonsieurRaynor.YouwereSirClaud’sconfidentialsecretary,wereyounot?’
‘Thatiscorrect.’
‘Thenyouknewalotabouthiswork?’
‘Yes.Ihaveacertainamountofscientifictraining,andIoccasionallyhelpedhimwithhisexperiments.’
‘Doyouknowanything,’askedPoirot,‘thatcanthrowlightuponthisunfortunateaffair?’
Raynortookaletterfromhispocket.‘Onlythis,’hereplied,asherose,movedacrosstoPoirotandhandedhimtheletter.‘OneofmytaskswastoopenandsortoutallofSirClaud’scorrespondence.Thiscametwodaysago.’
Poirottooktheletterandreaditaloud.‘“Youarenourishingaviperinyourbosom.”Bosom?’hequeried,turningtoHastingsbeforecontinuing,‘“BewareofSelmaGoetzandherbrood.Yoursecretisknown.Beonyourguard.”Itissigned“Watcher”.H’m,verypicturesqueanddramatic.Hastings,youwillenjoythis,’Poirotremarked,passingthelettertohisfriend.
‘WhatIwouldliketoknow,’declaredEdwardRaynor,‘isthis.WhoisSelmaGoetz?’
Leaningbackandputtinghisfinger-tipstogether,Poirotannounced,‘IthinkIcansatisfyyourcuriosity,monsieur.SelmaGoetzwasthemostsuccessfulinternationalspyeverknown.Shewasalsoaverybeautifulwoman.SheworkedforItaly,forFrance,forGermany,andeventually,Ibelieve,forRussia.Yes,shewasanextraordinarywoman,SelmaGoetz.’
Raynorsteppedbackapace,andspokesharply.‘Was?’
‘Sheisdead,’Poirotdeclared.‘ShediedinGenoa,lastNovember.’HeretrievedtheletterfromHastings,whohadbeenshakinghisheadoveritwithaperplexedexpression.
‘Thenthislettermustbeahoax,’Raynorexclaimed.
‘Iwonder,’Poirotmurmured.‘“SelmaGoetzandherbrood,”itsays.SelmaGoetzleftadaughter,MonsieurRaynor,averybeautifulgirl.Sincehermother’sdeathshehasdisappearedcompletely.’Heputtheletterinhispocket
‘Coulditbepossiblethat–?’Raynorbegan,thenpaused.
‘Yes?Youweregoingtosaysomething,monsieur?’Poirotpromptedhim.
Movingtothedetective,Raynorspokeeagerly.‘MrsAmory’sItalianmaid.ShebroughtherfromItalywithher,averyprettygirl.VittoriaMuzio,hernameis.CouldshepossiblybethisdaughterofSelmaGoetz?’
‘Ah,itisanidea,that.’Poirotsoundedimpressed.
‘Letmesendhertoyou,’Raynorsuggested,turningtogo.
Poirotrose.‘No,no,alittleminute.Aboveall,wemustnotalarmher.LetmespeaktoMadameAmoryfirst.Shewillbeabletotellmesomethingaboutthisgirl.’
‘Perhapsyouareright,’Raynoragreed.‘I’lltellMrsAmoryatonce.’
Thesecretarylefttheroomwiththeairofadeterminedman,andHastingsapproachedPoirotingreatexcitement.‘That’sit,Poirot!CarelliandtheItalianmaidincollusion,workingforaforeigngovernment.Don’tyouagree?’
Deepinthought,Poirotpaidhiscolleaguenoheed.
‘Poirot?Don’tyouthinkso?Isaid,itmustbeCarelliandthemaidworkingtogether.’
‘Ah,yes,thatisexactlywhatyouwouldsay,myfriend.’
Hastingslookedaffronted.‘Well,whatisyouridea?’heaskedPoirotinaninjuredtone.
‘Thereareseveralquestionstobeanswered,mydearHastings.WhywasMadameAmory’snecklacestolentwomonthsago?Whydidsherefusetocallinthepoliceonthatoccasion?Why–?’
HebrokeoffasLuciaAmoryenteredtheroom,carryingherhandbag.‘Iunderstandyouwantedtoseeme,MonsieurPoirot.Isthatcorrect?’sheasked.
‘Yes,madame.Iwouldlikesimplytoaskyouafewquestions.’Heindicatedachairbythetable.‘Won’tyousitdown?’
Luciamovedtothechairandsat,asPoirotturnedtoHastings.‘Myfriend,thegardenoutsidethatwindowisveryfine,’Poirotobserved,takingHastingsbythearmandpropellinghimgentlytowardsthefrenchwindows.Hastingslookeddistinctlyreluctanttoleave,butPoirot’sinsistence,thoughgentle,wasfirm.‘Yes,myfriend.Observethebeautiesofnature.Donoteverloseachanceofobservingthebeautiesofnature.’
Somewhatunwillingly,Hastingsallowedhimselftobebundledoutofdoors.Then,thedaybeingwarmandsunny,hedecidedtomakethebestofhispresentsituationandexploretheAmorys’garden.Amblingacrossthelawn,hemadehiswaytowardsahedgebeyondwhichaformalgardenlookedextremelyinviting.
Ashewalkedalongthelengthofthehedge,Hastingsbecameawareofvoicesquitecloseby,voiceswhich,asheapproached,herecognizedasthoseofBarbaraAmoryandDrGraham,whowere,itseemed,enjoyingatêteàtêteonabench,justtheothersideofthehedge.InthehopethathemightoverhearsomethingrelevanttoSirClaudAmory’sdeathorthedisappearanceoftheformulathatitwouldbeusefulforPoirottoknow,Hastingsstoppedtolisten
‘–perfectlyclearthathethinkshisbeautifulyoungcousincandobetterforherselfthanacountrydoctor.Thatseemstobethebasisofhislackofenthusiasmforourseeingeachother,’KennethGrahamwassaying.
‘Oh,IknowRichardcanbeanoldstick-in-the-mudattimes,andcarryonlikesomeonetwicehisage,’Barbara’svoicereplied.‘ButIdon’tthinkyououghttoallowyourselftobeaffectedbyit,Kenny.Icertainlydon’ttakeanynoticeofhim.’
‘Well,Ishan’teither,’saidDrGraham.‘But,lookhere,Barbara,IaskedyoutomeetmeoutherebecauseIwantedtotalktoyouprivately,withoutbeingseenorheardbythefamily.Firstofall,Ioughttotellyouthattherecanbenodoubtaboutit,yourunclewaspoisonedlastnight.’
‘Oh,yes?’Barbarasoundedbored.
‘Youdon’tseematallsurprisedtohearthat.’
‘OhIsupposeI’msurprised.Afterall,membersofone’sfamilydon’tgetpoisonedeveryday,dothey?ButIhavetoadmitthatI’mnotparticularlyupsetthathe’sdead.Infact,IthinkI’mglad.’
‘Barbara!’
‘Now,don’tyoustartpretendingyou’resurprisedtohearthat,Kenny.You’velistenedtomegoingonaboutthemeanoldso-and-sooncountlessoccasions.Hedidn’treallycareforanyofus,hewasonlyinterestedinhismouldyoldexperiments.HetreatedRichardverybadly,andhewasn’tparticularlywelcomingtoLuciawhenRichardbroughtherbackfromItalyashisbride.AndLuciaissosweet,andsoabsolutelyrightforRichard.’
‘Barbara,darling,Ihavetoaskyouthis.Now,Ipromisethatanythingyousaytomewillgonofurther.I’llprotectyouifnecessary.But,tellme,doyouknowsomething–anythingatall–aboutyouruncle’sdeath?HaveyouanyreasontosuspectthatRichard,forexample,mighthavefeltsodesperateabouthisfinancialsituationthathewouldthinkofkillinghisfatherinordertogethishandsnowonwhatwouldeventuallybehisinheritance?’
‘Idon’twanttocontinuethisconversation,Kenny.Ithoughtyouaskedmeoutheretowhispersweetnothingstome,nottoaccusemycousinofmurder.’
‘Darling,I’mnotaccusingRichardofanything.Butyoumustadmitthere’ssomethingwronghere.Richarddoesn’tseemtowantapoliceinvestigationintohisuncle’sdeath.It’salmostasthoughhewereafraidofwhatitmightreveal.There’snowayhecanstopthepolicefromtakingover,ofcourse,buthe’smadeitperfectlyclearthathe’sfuriouswithmeforhavinginstigatedanofficialinvestigation.Iwasonlydoingmydutyasadoctor,afterall.HowcouldIpossiblyhavesignedadeathcertificatestatingthatSirClaudhaddiedofaheartattack?Forheaven’ssake,therewasabsolutelynothingwrongwithhisheartwhenIlastgavehimaregularcheck-uponlyafewweeksago.’
‘Kenny,Idon’twanttohearanymore.I’mgoingindoors.You’llmakeyourownwayoutthroughthegarden,won’tyou?I’llseeyouanothertime.’
‘Barbara,Ionlywant–’Butshehadalreadygone,andDrGrahamemittedadeepsighthatwasalmostagroan.Atthatmoment,Hastingsthoughtitexpedienttoretracehisstepsquicklybacktothehousewithoutbeingseenbyeitherofthem.
Chapter14
Backinthelibrary,itwasonlyafterHastings,propelledbyHerculePoirot,hadmadehisunwillingexitintothegardenthatthelittledetectiveturnedhisattentionagaintoLuciaAmory,firsttakingcaretoclosethefrenchwindows.
LucialookedatPoirotanxiously.‘Youwanttoaskmeaboutmymaid,Iunderstand,MonsieurPoirot.ThatiswhatMrRaynortoldme.Butsheisaverygoodgirl.Iamsurethereisnothingwrongwithher.’
‘Madame,’Poirotreplied,‘itisnotaboutyourmaidthatIwishtospeaktoyou.’
Luciasoundedstartledasshebegan,‘ButMrRaynorsaid–’
Poirotinterruptedher.‘IamafraidIallowedMrRaynortothinksoforreasonsofmyown.’
‘Well,whatisitthen?’Lucia’svoicewasguardednow.
‘Madame,’Poirotobserved,‘youpaidmeaveryprettycomplimentyesterday.Yousaid,whenyoufirstsawme–yousaid–thatyoutrustedme.’
‘Well?’
‘Well,madame,Iaskyoutotrustmenow!’
‘Whatdoyoumean?’
Poirotobservedhersolemnly.‘Youhaveyouth,beauty,admiration,love–allthethingsawomanwantsandcraves.Butthereisonething,madame,thatyoulack–afatherconfessor!LetPapaPoirotofferhimselfforthepost.’
Luciawasabouttospeak,whenPoirotinterruptedher.‘Now,thinkwellbeforeyourefuse,madame.ItwasatyourrequestthatIremainedhere.Istayedtoserveyou.Istillwishtoserveyou.’
Withasuddenflashoftemperament,Luciareplied,‘Youcanservemebestnowbygoing,monsieur.’
‘Madame,’Poirotcontinuedimperturbably,‘doyouknowthatthepolicehavebeencalledin?’
‘Thepolice?’
‘Yes.’
‘Butbywhom?Andwhy?’
‘DrGrahamandtheotherdoctors,hiscolleagues,’Poirottoldher,‘havediscoveredthatSirClaudAmorywaspoisoned.’
‘Ah,no!No!Notthat!’Luciasoundedmorehorrifiedthansurprised.
‘Yes.Soyousee,madame,thereisverylittletimeforyoutodecideonthemostprudentcourseofaction.Atpresent,Iserveyou.Later,Imayhavetoservejustice.’
Lucia’seyessearchedPoirot’sfaceasthoughtryingtodecidewhethertoconfideinhim.Atlast,‘Whatdoyouwantmetodo?’sheasked,falteringly.
Poirotsatandfacedher.‘Whatwillyou?’hemurmuredtohimself,andthen,addressingLucia,hesuggestedgently,‘Whynotsimplytellmethetruth,madame?’
Luciapaused.Stretchingoutherhandtowardshim,shebegan,‘I–I–’Shepausedagain,irresolutely,andthenherexpressionhardened.‘Really,MonsieurPoirot,Iamatalosstounderstandyou.’
Poiroteyedherkeenly.‘Ah!Itistobelikethat,isit?Iamverysorry.’
Hercomposuresomewhatregained,Luciaspokecoldly.‘Ifyouwilltellmewhatyouwantwithme,Iwillansweranyquestionsyouwishtoask.’
‘So!’thelittledetectiveexclaimed.‘YoupityourwitsagainstHerculePoirot,doyou?Verywell,then.Beassuredhowever,madame,thatweshallgetatthetruthjustthesame.’Hetappedthetable.‘Butbyalesspleasantprocess.’
‘Ihavenothingtoconceal,’Luciatoldhimdefiantly.
TakingfromhispockettheletterEdwardRaynorhadgivenhim,PoirothandedittoLucia.‘Afewdaysago,SirClaudreceivedthisanonymousletter,’herevealed.
Luciaglancedthroughtheletter,apparentlyunmoved.‘Well,whatofit?’shecommentedasshehandeditbacktoPoirot.
‘HaveyoueverheardthenameSelmaGoetzbefore?’
‘Never!Whoisshe?’askedLucia.
‘Shedied–inGenoa–lastNovember,’Poirotinformedher.
‘Indeed?’
‘Perhapsyoumetherthere,’Poirotremarked,replacingtheletterinhispocket.‘Infact,Ithinkyoudid.’
‘IwasneverinGenoainmylife,’Luciainsisted,sharply.
‘Then,ifanyoneweretosaythattheyhadseenyouthere?’
‘Theywould–theywouldbemistaken.’
Poirotpersisted.‘ButIunderstand,madame,thatyoufirstmetyourhusbandinGenoa?’
‘DidRichardsaythat?Howstupidofhim!WemetfirstinMilan.’
‘ThenthewomanyouwerewithinGenoa–’
Luciainterruptedhimangrily.‘ItellyouIwasneverinGenoa!’
‘Ah,pardon!’exclaimedPoirot.‘Ofcourse,yousaidsojustnow.Yetitisodd!’
‘Whatisodd?’
Poirotclosedhiseyesandleanedbackinhischair.Hisvoicecamepurringlyfrombetweenhislips.‘Iwilltellyoualittlestory,madame,’heannounced,takingoutapocketbook.‘IhaveafriendwhodoesthephotographyforcertainLondonjournals.Hetakes–howdoyousay?–thesnapshotsofcontessasandotherfashionableladieswhobathethemselvesontheLido.Thatsortofthing.’Poirotsearchedinthepocketbookbeforecontinuing,‘LastNovember,thisfriendofmine,hefindshimselfinGenoa,andherecognizesaverynotoriouslady.TheBaronnedeGiers,shecallsherselfatthistime,andsheisthechèreamieofaverynotedFrenchdiplomat.Theworldtalks,butthatdoesnotmattertothelady,becausethediplomat,hetalksalso,andthatiswhatshewants.Heismoreamorousthandiscreet,youunderstand–’Poirotbrokeoffwithaninnocentair.‘Idonotboreyou,Ihope,madame?’
‘Notatall,butIhardlyseethepointofthisstory.’
Lookingthroughthecontentsofhispocketbook,Poirotcontinued.‘Iamarrivingatthepoint,Iassureyou,madame.Myfriend,heshowsmeasnapshothehastaken.WeagreewitheachotherthattheBaronnedeGiersisunetrèsbellefemme,andwearenotatallsurprisedatthebehaviourofthediplomat.’
‘Isthatall?’
‘No,madame.Yousee,theladywasnotalone.Shewasphotographedwalkingwithherdaughter,andthatdaughter,madame,hadaverybeautifulface,andone,moreover,thatitwouldnotbeatalleasytoforget.’Poirotrose,madehismostgallantbow,andclosedhispocketbook.‘Ofcourse,IrecognizedthatfaceassoonasIarrivedhere.’
LucialookedatPoirot,anddrewherbreathin,sharply.‘Oh!’sheexclaimed.Afteramoment,shepulledherselftogether,andlaughed.‘MydearMonsieurPoirot,whatacuriousmistake.Ofcourse,Iseethepointofallyourquestionsnow.IremembertheBaronnedeGiersperfectly,andherdaughteraswell.Thedaughterwasratheradullgirl,butthemotherfascinatedme.Iwasquiteromanticabouther,andwentoutwalkingwithheronseveraloccasions.Ithinkmydevotionamusedher.Thatwasdoubtlesshowthemistakearose.ThatishowsomeonethoughtthatImustbethewoman’sdaughter.’Luciasankbackinherchair.
Poirotnoddedslowappreciation,atwhichLuciaappearedvisiblytorelax.Thensuddenly,leaningoverthetabletowardsher,thedetectiveremarked,‘ButIthoughtyouhadneverbeentoGenoa.’
Takenunawares,Luciagasped.ShestaredatPoirotasheputhispocketbookbackinaninnerpocketofhisjacket.‘Youhavenophotograph,’shesaid.Itwashalfquestion,halfstatement.
‘No,’Poirotconfessed.‘Ihavenophotograph,madame.IknewthenamethatSelmaGoetzpassedunderinGenoa.Therest–myfriendandhisphotography–allofthatwasaharmlesslittleinventionofmine!’
Lucialeapttoherfeet,hereyesblazingwithanger.‘Yousetatrapforme!’sheexclaimedfuriously.
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.‘Yes,madame,’heaffirmed.‘IfearIhadnoalternative.’
‘WhathasallthistodowithSirClaud’sdeath?’Luciamutteredasthoughtoherself,lookingwildlyabouttheroom.
Poirotaffectedatoneofindifferenceas,insteadofanswering,heposedanotherquestion.‘Madame,’heasked,brushinganimaginaryspeckofdustfromhisjacketashespoke,‘isittruethatyoulostavaluablediamondnecklacealittletimeago?’
Luciaglaredathim.‘AgainIask,’herwordsemergingasthoughthroughclenchedteeth,‘whathasthattodowithSirClaud’sdeath?’
Poirotspokeslowlyanddeliberately.‘Firstastolennecklace–thenastolenformula.Bothwouldbringinaverylargesumofmoney.’
‘Whatdoyoumean?’Luciagasped.
‘Imean,madame,thatIwouldlikeyoutoanswerthisquestion.HowmuchdidDrCarelliwant–thistime?’
LuciaturnedawayfromPoirot.‘I–I–Iwillnotansweranymorequestions,’shewhispered.
‘Becauseyouareafraid?’askedPoirot,movingtoher.
Luciaturnedtofacehimagain,flingingherheadbackinagestureofdefiance.‘No,’sheasserted,‘I’mnotafraid.Isimplydon’tknowwhatyouaretalkingabout!WhyshouldDrCarelliaskmeformoney?’
‘Tobuyhissilence,’Poirotreplied.‘TheAmorysareaproudfamily,andyouwouldnothavewantedthemtoknowthatyouare–thedaughterofSelmaGoetz!’
LuciaglaredatPoirotforamomentwithoutreplying,andthen,hershoulderssagging,shecollapsedontoastool,restingherheadinherhands.Atleastaminuteelapsedbeforeshelookedupwithasigh.‘DoesRichardknow?’shemurmured.
‘Hedoesnotknowyet,madame,’Poirotrepliedslowly.
Luciasoundeddesperateasshepleaded,‘Don’ttellhim,MonsieurPoirot!Pleasedon’ttellhim!Heissoproudofhisfamilyname,soproudofhishonour!Iwaswickedtohavemarriedhim!ButIwassomiserable.Ihatedthatlife,thatawfullifeIwasforcedtolivewithmymother.Ifeltdegradedbyit.ButwhatcouldIdo?Andthen,whenMamadied,Iwasatlastfree!Freetobehonest!Freetogetawayfromthatlifeofliesandintrigue.ImetRichard.Thatwasthemostwonderfulthingthathadeverhappenedtome.Richardcameintomylife.Ilovedhim,andhewantedtomarryme.HowcouldItellhimwhoIwas?WhyshouldItellhim?’
‘Andthen,’Poirotpromptedhergently,‘CarellirecognizedyousomewherewithMonsieurAmory,andbegantoblackmailyou?’
‘Yes,butIhadnomoneyofmyown,’Luciagasped.‘Isoldthenecklaceandpaidhim.Ithoughtthatwastheendofitall.Butyesterdayheturneduphere.HehadheardofthisformulathatSirClaudhadinvented.’
‘Hewantedyoutostealitforhim?’
Luciasighed.‘Yes.’
‘Anddidyou?’askedPoirot,movingclosertoher.
‘Youwon’tbelieveme–now,’murmuredLucia,shakingherheadsorrowfully
Poirotcontemplatedthebeautifulyoungwomanwithalookofsympathy.‘Yes,yes,mychild,’heassuredher.‘Iwillstillbelieveyou.Havecourage,andtrustPapaPoirot,yes?Justtellmethetruth.DidyoutakeSirClaud’ssecretformula?’
‘No,no,Ididn’t,Ididn’t!’Luciadeclaredvehemently.‘Butit’struethatImeantto.CarellimadeakeytoSirClaud’ssafefromanimpressionItook.’
Takingakeyfromhispocketandshowingittoher,Poirotasked,‘Isthisit?’
Lucialookedatthekey.‘Yes,itwasallquiteeasy.Carelligavemethatkey.Iwasinthestudy,juststeelingmyselftoopenthesafewhenSirClaudcameinandfoundme.That’sthetruth,Iswearit!’
‘Ibelieveyou,madame,’saidPoirot.Hereturnedthekeytohispocket,movedtothearm-chairandsat,placingthetipsofhisfingerstogether,andponderingforamoment.‘AndyetyouacquiescedeagerlyinSirClaud’sschemeofplungingtheroomintodarkness?’
‘Ididn’twanttobesearched,’Luciaexplained.‘Carellihadpassedmeanoteatthesametimeasthekey,andtheywerebothinmydress.’
‘Whatdidyoudowiththem?’Poirotaskedher.
‘Whenthelightswentout,IthrewthekeyasfarfrommeasIcould.Overthere.’ShepointedinthedirectionofthechairinwhichEdwardRaynorhadsatonthepreviousevening.
‘AndthenotethatCarellihadpassedtoyou?’Poirotcontinued.
‘Ididn’tknowwhattodowiththenote.’Luciaroseandwenttothetable.‘SoIslippeditbetweentheleavesofabook.’Takingabookfromthetable,shesearchedinit.‘Yes,itisstillhere,’shedeclaredassheremovedapieceofpaperfromthebook.‘Doyouwishtoseeit?’
‘No,madame,itisyours,’Poirotassuredher.
Sittinginachairbythetable,Luciatorethenoteintosmallpieceswhichsheputinherhandbag.Poirotwatchedher,butpausedbeforeasking,‘Onelittlethingmore,madame.Didyou,byanychance,tearyourdresslastnight?’
‘I?No!’Luciasoundedsurprised.
‘Duringthosemomentsofdarkness,’askedPoirot,‘didyouhearthesoundofadresstearing?’
Luciaconsideredforafewseconds.Then,‘Yes,nowthatyoumentionit,’shesaid,‘IbelieveIdid.Butitwasnotmine.ItmusthavebeenMissAmory’sorBarbara’s.’
‘Well,wewillnotworryaboutthat,’remarkedPoirotdismissively.‘Now,letuspassontosomethingelse.WhopouredoutSirClaud’scoffeelastnight?’
‘Idid.’
‘Andyouputitdownonthattable,besideyourowncup?’
‘Yes.’
Poirotrose,leanedforwardoverthetabletowardsLucia,andsuddenlyshothisnextquestionather.‘Intowhichcupdidyouputthehyoscine?’
Lucialookedathimwildly.‘Howdidyouknow?’shegasped.
‘Itismybusinesstoknowthings.Intowhichcup,madame?’
Luciasighed.‘Myown.’
‘Why?’
‘BecauseIwanted–Iwantedtodie.RichardsuspectedthattherewassomethingbetweenCarelliandme–thatwewerehavinganaffair.Hecouldnothavebeenfurtherfromthetruth.IhatedCarelli!Ihatehimnow.But,asIhadfailedtoobtaintheformulaforhim,IwassurehewouldexposemetoRichard.Tokillmyselfwasawayout–theonlyway.Aswift,dreamlesssleep–andnoawakening–that’swhathesaid.’
‘Whosaidthattoyou?’
‘DrCarelli.’
‘Ibegintosee–Ibegintosee,’saidPoirotslowly.Hepointedtothecuponthetable.‘Thisisyourcup,then?Afullcup,untasted?’
‘Yes.’
‘Whatmadeyouchangeyourmindaboutdrinkingit?’
‘Richardcameovertome.Hesaidthathewouldtakemeaway–abroad–thathewouldgetthemoneytodoso,somehow.Hegavemeback–hope.’
‘Now,listentomecarefully,madame,’saidPoirotgravely.‘Thismorning,DrGrahamtookawaythecupthatwasbesideSirClaud’schair.’
‘Yes?’
‘Hisfellow-doctorswillhavefoundnothingbutthedregsofcoffeeinit–’Hepaused.
Withoutlookingathim,Luciaanswered,‘Of–ofcourse.’
‘Thatiscorrect,yes?’Poirotpersisted.
Lucialookedstraightaheadofherwithoutreplying.Then,lookingupatPoirot,sheexclaimed,‘Whyareyoustaringatmelikethat?Youfrightenme!’
‘Isaid,’Poirotrepeated,‘thattheytookawaythecupthatwasbesideSirClaud’schairthismorning.Letussupposeinsteadthattheyhadtakenawaythecupthatwasbyhischairlastnight?’Hemovedtothetablenearthedoorandtookacoffeecupfromtheplantbowl.‘Letussupposethattheyhadtakenthiscup!’
Luciarosequickly,puttingherhandsuptoherface.‘Youknow!’shegasped
Poirotmovedtoher.‘Madame!’Hisvoicenowwasstern.‘Theywilltesttheircup,iftheyhavenotalreadydoneso,andtheywillfind–nothing.ButlastnightItooksomeofthedregsfromtheoriginalcup.WhatwouldyousayifIweretotellyouthattherewashyoscineinSirClaud’scup?’
Lucialookedstricken.Sheswayed,butthenrecoveredherself.Foramomentshesaidnothing.Then,‘Youareright,’shewhispered.‘Youarequiteright.Ikilledhim.’Hervoicerangoutsuddenly.‘Ikilledhim!Iputthehyoscineinhiscup.’Goingtothetable,shegraspedthefullcupofcoffee.‘Thisone–isonlycoffee!’
Sheraisedthefullcuptoherlips,butPoirotsprangforward,interposinghishandbetweenthecupandherlips.Theylookedateachotherintentlyforatime,thenLuciaburstintosobs.Poirottookthecupfromher,andplaceditonthetable.‘Madame!’heexclaimed.
‘Whydidyoustopme?’Luciamurmured
‘Madame,’Poirottoldher,‘theworldisverybeautiful.Whyshouldyouwishtoleaveit?’
‘I–Oh!’Luciacollapsedontothesettee,sobbingbitterly.
WhenPoirotspoke,hisvoicewaswarmandgentle.‘Youtoldmethetruth.Youputthehyoscineinyourowncup.Ibelieveyou.Buttherewashyoscineintheothercupaswell.Now,speakthetruthtomeagain.WhoputthehyoscineinSirClaud’scup?’
LuciastaredatPoirotinterror.‘No,no,you’rewrong.Hedidn’t.Ikilledhim,’shecriedhysterically.
‘Whodidn’t?Whomareyoushielding,madame?Tellme,’Poirotdemanded.
‘Hedidn’t,Itellyou,’Luciasobbed.
Therewasaknockatthedoor.‘Thatwillbethepolice!’declaredPoirot.‘Wehaveverylittletime.Iwillmakeyoutwopromises,madame.PromisenumberoneisthatIwillsaveyou–’
‘ButIkilledhim,Itellyou.’Lucia’svoicewasalmostatscreamingpitch
‘Promisenumbertwo,’Poirotcontinuedimperturbably,‘isthatIwillsaveyourhusband!’
‘Oh!’Luciagasped,gazingathiminbewilderment.
Thebutler,Tredwell,enteredtheroom.AddressingPoirot,heannounced,‘InspectorJapp,fromScotlandYard.’
Chapter15
Fifteenminuteslater,InspectorJapp,accompaniedbyJohnson,ayoungconstable,hadfinishedhisinitialinspectionofthelibrary.Japp,abluff,hearty,middle-agedmanwithathick-setfigureandaruddycomplexion,wasreminiscingwithPoirotandHastings,whohadreturnedfromhisexileinthegarden.
‘Yes,’Japptoldhisconstable,‘MrPoirotandIgobackalongway.You’veheardmespeakoftenofhim.HewasstillamemberoftheBelgianpoliceforcewhenwefirstworkedtogether.ItwastheAbercrombieforgerycase,wasn’tit,Poirot?WeranhimdowninBrussels.Ah,thoseweregreatdays.Anddoyouremember“Baron”Altara?Therewasaprettyrogueforyou!HeeludedtheclutchesofhalfthepoliceinEurope.ButwenailedhiminAntwerp–thankstoMrPoirothere.’
JappturnedfromJohnsontoPoirot.‘Andthenwemetagaininthiscountry,didn’twe,Poirot?’heexclaimed.‘You’dretiredbythen,ofcourse.YousolvedthatmysteriousaffairatStyles,remember?Thelasttimewecollaboratedonacasewasabouttwoyearsago,wasn’tit?ThataffairoftheItaliannoblemaninLondon.Wellit’sreallygoodtoseeyouagain,Poirot.YoucouldhaveknockedmedownwithafeatherwhenIcameinafewminutesagoandsawyourfunnyoldmug.’
‘Mymug?’askedPoirot,lookingpuzzled.Englishslangneverfailedtomystifyhim.
‘Yourface,Imean,oldchap,’Jappexplained,withagrin.‘Well,shallweworktogetheronthis?’
Poirotsmiled.‘MygoodJapp,youknowmylittleweaknesses!’
‘Secretiveoldbeggar,aren’tyou?’remarkedJapp,smackingPoirotontheshoulder.‘Isay,thatMrsAmoryyouweretalkingtowhenIcamein,she’sagoodlooker.RichardAmory’swife,Isuppose?I’llbetyouwereenjoyingyourself,youolddog!’
Theinspectorgavearathercoarselaugh,andseatedhimselfonachairbythetable.‘Anyway,’hecontinued,‘thisisjustthesortofcasethatsuitsyoudowntotheground.Itpleasesyourtortuousmind.Now,Iloatheapoisoningcase.Nothingtogoon.Youhavetofindoutwhattheyateanddrank,andwhohandledit,andwhosomuchasbreathedonit!IadmitDrGrahamseemsprettyclearonthecase.Hesaysthedopemusthavebeeninthecoffee.Accordingtohim,suchalargedosewouldhavehadanalmostinstantaneouseffect.Ofcourse,weshallknowforcertainwhenwegettheanalyst’sreport,butwe’vegotenoughtogoon.’
Japprosetohisfeet.‘Well,I’vefinishedwiththisroom,’hedeclared.‘I’dbetterhaveafewwordswithMrRichardAmory,Isuppose,andthenI’llseethisDrCarelli.Itlooksasthoughhe’sourman.Butkeepanopenmind,that’swhatIalwayssay,keepanopenmind.’Hemovedtothedoor.‘Coming,Poirot?’
‘Butcertainly,Iwillaccompanyyou,’saidPoirot,joininghim.
‘CaptainHastingstoo,I’venodoubt,’Japplaughed.‘Sticksasclosetoyouasyourshadow,doesn’the,Poirot?’
Poirotthrewameaningfulglanceathisfriend.‘PerhapsHastingswouldprefertoremainhere,’heremarked.
Takinghiscueinasomewhatobviousmanner,Hastingsreplied,‘Yes,yes,IthinkI’llstayhere.’
‘Well,asyouplease.’Jappsoundedsurprised.HeandPoirotleft,followedbytheyoungconstable,andamomentlaterBarbaraAmoryenteredfromthegardenthroughthefrenchwindows,wearingapinkblouseandlight-colouredslacks.‘Ah!Thereyouare,mypet.Isay,what’sthisthat’sjustblowninuponus?’sheaskedHastings,asshemovedacrosstothesetteeandsatdown.‘Isitthepolice?’
‘Yes,’Hastingstoldher.Hejoinedheronthesettee.‘It’sInspectorJappofScotlandYard.He’sgonetoseeyourcousinnow,toaskhimafewquestions.’
‘Willhewanttoaskmequestions,doyouthink?’
‘Idon’timagineso.Butevenifhedoes,’Hastingsassuredher,‘there’snothingtobealarmedabout.’
‘Oh,I’mnotalarmed,’Barbaradeclared.‘Infact,Ithinkitwouldbeabsolutelywizard!Butitwouldbesotemptingtoembroiderabit,justtomakeasensation.Iadoresensation,don’tyou?’
Hastingslookedpuzzled.‘I–Ireallydon’tknow.No,Idon’tthinkIadoresensation.’
BarbaraAmoryregardedhimquizzically.‘Youknow,youintrigueme,’shedeclared.‘Wherehaveyoubeenallyourlife?’
‘Well,I’vespentseveralyearsinSouthAmerica.’
‘Iknewit!’Barbaraexclaimed.Shegestured,withherhandoverhereyes.‘Thewideopenspaces.That’swhyyou’resodeliciouslyold-fashioned.’
Hastingsnowlookedoffended.‘I’msorry,’hesaidstiffly.
‘Oh,butIadoreit,’Barbarahastenedtoexplain.‘Ithinkyou’reapet,anabsolutepet.’
‘Whatexactlydoyoumeanbyold-fashioned?’
‘Well,’Barbaracontinued,‘I’msureyoubelieveinallsortsofstuffyoldthings,likedecency,andnottellingliesexceptforaverygoodreason,andputtingagoodfaceonthings.’
‘Quite,’agreedHastingsinsomesurprise.‘Don’tyou?’
‘Me?Well,forexample,doyouexpectmetokeepupthefictionthatUncleClaud’sdeathisaregrettableincident?’
‘Isn’tit?’Hastingssoundedshocked
‘Mydear!’exclaimedBarbara.Sherose,andperchedherselfontheedgeofthecoffeetable.‘AsfarasI’mconcerned,it’sthemostmarvellousthingthateverhappened.Youdon’tknowwhatanoldskinflinthewas.Youdon’tknowhowhegroundusalldown!’Shestopped,overcomebythestrengthofherfeelings.
Embarrassed,Hastingsbegan,‘I–I–wishyouwouldn’t–’butwasinterruptedbyBarbara.‘Youdon’tlikehonesty?’sheasked.‘That’sjustwhatIthoughtyou’dbelike.You’dprefermetobewearingblackinsteadofthis,andtobetalkinginahushedvoiceabout“PoorUncleClaud!Sogoodtousall.”’
‘Really!’Hastingsexclaimed.
‘Oh,youneedn’tpretend,’Barbarawenton,‘Iknewthat’swhatyou’dturnouttobelike,ifIgottoknowyouproperly.ButwhatIsayisthatlifeisn’tlongenoughforallthatlyingandpretence.UncleClaudwasn’tgoodtousatall.I’mcertainwe’reallgladhe’sdead,really,inourheartofhearts.Yes,evenAuntCaroline.Poordear,she’sstoodhimlongerthananyofus.’
Barbarasuddenlycalmeddown.Whenshespokeagain,itwasinamildertone.‘Youknow,I’vebeenthinking.Scientificallyspeaking,AuntCarolinemighthavepoisonedUncleClaud.Thatheartattacklastnightwasreallyveryqueer.Idon’tbelieveitwasaheartattackatall.JustsupposethatsuppressingherfeelingsalltheseyearshadledtoAuntCarolinedevelopingsomepowerfulcomplex–’
‘Isupposeit’stheoreticallypossible,’Hastingsmurmuredguardedly.
‘Iwonderwhopinchedtheformula,though,’Barbaracontinued.‘EveryonesaysitwastheItalian,butpersonallyIsuspectTredwell.’
‘Yourbutler?Goodheavens!Why?’
‘Becauseheneverwentnearthestudy!’
Hastingslookedperplexed.‘Butthen–’
‘I’mveryorthodoxinsomeways,’Barbararemarked.‘I’vebeenbroughtuptosuspecttheleastlikelyperson.That’swhoitisinallthebestmurdermysteries.AndTredwelliscertainlytheleastlikelyperson.’
‘Exceptyou,perhaps,’Hastingssuggestedwithalaugh.
‘Oh,me!’Barbarasmileduncertainlyassheroseandmovedawayfromhim.‘Howcurious–’shemurmuredtoherself.
‘What’scurious?’Hastingsasked,risingtohisfeet.
‘SomethingI’vejustthoughtof.Let’sgooutinthegarden.Ihateitinhere.’Shemovedtowardsthefrenchwindows.
‘I’mafraidIhavetostayhere,’Hastingstoldher.
‘Why?’
‘Imustn’tleavethisroom.’
‘Youknow,’Barbaraobserved,‘you’vegotacomplexaboutthisroom.Doyourememberlastnight?Thereweallwere,completelyshatteredbythedisappearanceoftheformula,andinyoustrode,andproducedthemostmarvellousanti-climaxbysayinginyourbestconversationalmanner,“Whatadelightfulroom,MrAmory.”Itwassofunnywhenthetwoofyouwalkedin.Therewasthisextraordinarylittlemanwithyou,nomorethanfivefeetfour,butwithanairofimmensedignity.Andyou,beingoh,sopolite.’
‘Poirotisratheroddatfirstsight,Iadmit,’Hastingsagreed.‘Andhehasallkindsoflittlefoibles.Forinstance,hehasanabsolutepassionforneatnessofanykind.Ifheseesanornamentsetcrookedly,oraspeckofdust,orevenaslightdisarrayinsomeone’sattire,it’sabsolutetorturetohim.’
‘Youmakesuchawonderfulcontrasttoeachother,’Barbarasaid,laughing.
‘Poirot’smethodsofdetectionareverymuchhisown,youknow,’Hastingscontinued.‘Orderandmethodarehisgods.Hehasagreatdisdainfortangibleevidence,thingslikefootprintsandcigaretteash,youknowwhatImean.Infacthemaintainsthat,takenbythemselves,theywouldneverenableadetectivetosolveaproblem.Thetruework,hesays,isdonefromwithin.Andthenhetapsthategg-shapedheadofhis,andremarkswithgreatsatisfaction,“Thelittlegreycellsofthebrain–alwaysrememberthelittlegreycells,monami.”’
‘Oh,Ithinkhe’sapoppet,’Barbaradeclared.‘Butnotassweetasyou,withyour“Whatadelightfulroom”!’
‘Butitisadelightfulroom,’Hastingsinsisted,soundingrathernettled.
‘Personally,Idon’tagreewithyou,’saidBarbara.Shetookhishandandtriedtopullhimtowardstheopenfrenchwindows.‘Anyway,you’vehadquiteenoughofitfornow.Comealong.’
‘Youdon’tunderstand,’Hastingsdeclared,takinghishandawayfromher.‘IpromisedPoirot.’
Barbaraspokeslowly.‘YoupromisedMonsieurPoirotthatyouwouldnotleavethisroom?Butwhy?’
‘Ican’ttellyouthat.’
‘Oh!’Barbarawassilentforamomentortwo,andthenhermannerchanged.ShemovedbehindHastingsandbegantorecite,inanexaggerateddramaticvoice,‘“Theboystoodontheburningdeck–”’
‘Ibegyourpardon?’
‘“Whenceallbuthehadfled.”Well,mypet?’
‘Isimplycannotunderstandyou,’Hastingsdeclaredinexasperation.
‘Whyshouldyouunderstandme?Oh,youreallyareadelight,’declaredBarbara,slippingherarmthroughhis.‘Comeandbevamped.Really,youknow,Ithinkyou’readorable.’
‘You’repullingmyleg.’
‘Notatall,’Barbarainsisted.‘I’mcrazyaboutyou.You’repositivelypre-war.’
Shepulledhimtothefrenchwindows,andthistimeHastingsallowedhimselftoyieldtothepressureofherarm.‘Youreallyareanextraordinaryperson,’hetoldher.‘You’requitedifferentfromanygirlI’veevermet.’
‘I’mdelightedtohearit.That’saverygoodsign,’saidBarbara,astheynowstood,facetoface,framedintheopenwindows.
‘Agoodsign?’
‘Yes,itmakesagirlfeelhopeful.’
Hastingsblushed,andBarbaralaughedlight-heartedlyasshedraggedhimoutintothegarden.
Chapter16
AfterBarbara’sexitwithHastingsintothegarden,thelibraryremainedunoccupiedfornolongerthanamomentortwo.Thenthedoortothehallopened,andMissAmoryentered,carryingasmallwork-bag.Shewentovertothesettee,putthebagdown,knelt,andbegantofeelatthebackoftheseat.Asshedidso,DrCarellienteredbytheotherdoor,carryingahatandasmallsuitcase.SeeingMissAmory,Carellistoppedandmurmuredawordofapologyathavingintrudeduponher.
MissAmoryrosefromthesettee,lookingatrifleflustered.‘Iwassearchingforaknittingneedle,’sheexplainedunnecessarily,brandishingherdiscoveryasshespoke.‘Ithadslippeddownbehindtheseat.’Then,takinginthesignificanceofhissuitcase,sheasked,‘Areyouleavingus,DrCarelli?’
Carelliputhishatandsuitcaseonachair.‘IfeelIcannolongertrespassonyourhospitality,’heannounced.
Obviouslydelighted,MissAmorywaspoliteenoughtomurmur,‘Well,ofcourse,ifyoufeellikethat–’Then,rememberingthesituationinwhichtheoccupantsofthehousecurrentlyfoundthemselves,sheadded,‘ButIthoughtthereweresometiresomeformalities–’Hervoicetrailedoffindecisively.
‘Oh,thatisallarranged,’Carelliassuredher.
‘Well,ifyoufeelyoumustgo–’
‘Ido,indeed.’
‘ThenIwillorderthecar,’MissAmorydeclaredbriskly,movingtothebellabovethefireplace.
‘No,no,’Carelliinsisted.‘That,too,isallarranged.’
‘Butyou’veevenhadtocarryyoursuitcasedownyourself.Really,theservants!They’realldemoralized,completelydemoralized!’Shereturnedtothesettee,andtookherknittingfromherbag.‘Theycan’tconcentrate,DrCarelli.Theycannotkeeptheirheads.Socurious,isitnot?’
Lookingdistinctlyonedge,Carellirepliedoffhandedly,‘Verycurious.’Heglancedatthetelephone.
MissAmorybegantoknit,keepingupaflowofaimlessconversationasshedidso.‘Isupposeyouarecatchingthetwelve-fifteen.Youmustn’trunittoofine.NotthatIwanttofuss,ofcourse.Ialwayssaythatfussingover–’
‘Yes,indeed,’DrCarelliinterruptedperemptorily,‘butthereisplentyoftime,Ithink.I–IwonderedifImightusethetelephone?’
MissAmorylookedupmomentarily.‘Oh,yes,ofcourse,’shesaid,asshecontinuedtoknit.ItseemednottohaveoccurredtoherthatDrCarellimighthavewantedtomakehistelephonecallinprivate.
‘Thankyou,’murmuredCarelli,movingtothedeskandmakingapretenceoflookingupanumberinthetelephonedirectory.HeglancedacrossimpatientlyatMissAmory.‘Ithinkyourniecewaslookingforyou,’heremarked.
MissAmory’sonlyreactiontothisinformationwastotalkaboutherniecewhilecontinuingwithherknittingundisturbed.‘DearBarbara!’sheexclaimed.‘Suchasweetcreature.Youknow,sheleadsratherasadlifehere,fartoodullforayounggirl.Well,well,thingswillbedifferentnow,Idaresay.’Shedweltpleasurablyonthisthoughtforamoment,beforecontinuing,‘NotthatIhaven’tdoneallIcould.Butwhatagirlneedsisalittlegaiety.AlltheBeeswaxintheworldwon’tmakeupforthat.’
DrCarelli’sfacewasastudyinincomprehension,mixedwithmorethanalittleirritation.‘Beeswax?’hefeltobligedtoask.
‘Yes,Beeswax–orisitBemax?Vitamins,youknow,oratleastthat’swhatitsaysonthetin.AandBandCandD.Allofthem,excepttheonethatkeepsyoufromhavingberi-beri.AndIreallythinkthere’snoneedforthat,ifoneislivinginEngland.It’snotadiseaseoneencountershere.Itcomes,Ibelieve,frompolishingthericeinnativecountries.Sointeresting.ImadeMrRaynortakeit–Beeswax,Imean–afterbreakfasteveryday.Hewaslookingpale,pooryoungfellow.ItriedtomakeLuciatakeittoo,butshewouldn’t.’MissAmoryshookherheaddisapprovingly.‘Andtothink,whenIwasagirl,IwasstrictlyforbiddentoeatcaramelsbecauseoftheBeeswax–ImeanBemax.Timeschange,youknow.Timesdochange.’
Thoughheattemptedtodisguisethefact,bynowDrCarelliwaspositivelyfuming.‘Yes,yes,MissAmory,’herepliedaspolitelyashecouldmanage.Movingtowardsher,hetriedasomewhatmoredirectapproach.‘Ithinkyournieceiscallingyou.’
‘Callingme?’
‘Yes.Doyounothear?’
MissAmorylistened.‘No–no,’sheconfessed.‘Howcurious.’Sherolledupherknitting.‘Youmusthavekeenears,DrCarelli.Notthatmyhearingisbad.Indeed,I’vebeentoldthat–’
Shedroppedherballofwool,andCarellipickeditupforher.‘Thankyousomuch,’shesaid.‘AlltheAmoryshavekeenhearing,youknow.’Sherosefromthesettee.‘Myfatherkepthisfacultiesinthemostremarkableway.Hecouldreadwithoutglasseswhenhewaseighty.’Shedroppedtheballofwoolagain,andagainCarellistoopedtoretrieveitforher.
‘Oh,thankyousomuch,’MissAmorycontinued.‘Aremarkableman,DrCarelli.Myfather,Imean.Sucharemarkableman.Healwayssleptinafour-posterfeatherbed;andthewindowsofhisbedroomwereneveropened.Thenightair,heusedtosay,wasmostinjurious.Unfortunately,whenhehadanattackofgouthewasnursedbyayoungwomanwhoinsistedonthewindowbeingopenedatthetop,andmypoorfatherdiedofit.’
Shedroppedtheballofwoolyetagain.Thistime,afterpickingitup,Carelliplanteditfirmlyinherhandandledhertothedoor.MissAmorymovedslowly,talkingallthetime.‘Idonotcareatallforhospitalnurses,DrCarelli,’sheinformedhim.‘Theygossipabouttheircases,theydrinkfartoomuchtea,andtheyalwaysupsettheservants.’
‘Verytrue,dearlady,verytrue,’Carelliagreedhastily,openingthedoorforher.
‘Thankyousomuch,’MissAmorysaidashepropelledheroutoftheroom.Shuttingthedoorafterher,Carellimovedquicklytothedeskandliftedthetelephonereceiver.Afterapause,hespokeintoitsoftlybuturgently.‘ThisisMarketClevethree-one-four.IwantLondon…Sohodoubleeight-five-three…no,five-three,that’sright
Hereplacedthereceiver,andthenstood,bitinghisnailsimpatiently.Afteramoment,hecrossedtothedoorofthestudy,openedit,andenteredtheroom.Hardlyhadhedoneso,whenEdwardRaynorcameintothelibraryfromthehall.Glancingaround,Raynorstrolledcasuallytothefireplace.Hetouchedthevaseofspillsonthemantelpieceand,ashedidso,Carellicamebackintotheroomfromthestudy.AsCarelliclosedthestudydoor,Raynorturnedandsawhim.
‘Ididn’tknowyouwereinhere,’saidthesecretary.
‘I’mwaitingforaphonecall,’Carelliexplained.‘Oh!’
Afterapause,Carellispokeagain.‘Whendidthepoliceinspectorcome?’
‘Abouttwentyminutesago,Ibelieve.Haveyouseenhim?’
‘Onlyinthedistance,’repliedCarelli.
‘He’saScotlandYardman,’Raynorinformedhim.‘Apparently,hehappenedtobedownintheneighbour-hoodclearingupsomeothercase,sohewascalledinbythelocalpolice.’
‘Thatwasapieceofluck,eh?’observedCarelli.
‘Wasn’tit?’Thetelephonerang,andRaynormovedtowardsit.Walkingquicklyaheadofhimtothephone,Carellisaid,‘Ithinkthatwillbemycall.’HelookedatRaynor.‘Iwonderifyou’dmind–’
‘Certainly,mydearfellow,’thesecretaryassuredhim.‘I’llclearout.’
Raynorlefttheroom,andCarelliliftedthereceiver.Hespokequietly.‘Hello?…IsthatMiguel?…Yes?…No,damnit,Ihaven’t.It’sbeenimpossible…No,youdon’tunderstand,theoldgentlemandiedlastnight…I’mleavingatonce…Japp’shere…Japp.Youknow,theScotlandYardman…No,I’venotmethimyet…Ihopeso,too…Attheusualplace,nine-thirtytonight…Right.’
Replacingthereceiver,Carellimovedtotherecess,pickeduphissuitcase,putonhishat,andwenttowardsthefrenchwindows.Atthatmoment,HerculePoirotenteredfromthegarden,andheandCarellicollided.‘Ibegyourpardon,’saidtheItalian.
‘Notatall,’repliedPoirotpolitely,continuingtoblockthewayout.
‘Ifyouwouldallowmetopass–’
‘Impossible,’saidPoirot,mildly.‘Quiteimpossible.’
‘Iinsist.’
‘Ishouldn’t,’murmuredPoirot,withafriendlysmile.Suddenly,CarellichargedatPoirot.Thelittledetectivesteppedbrisklyaside,trippingCarelliupneatlywithanunexpectedmovement,andtakingtheItaliandoctor’ssuitcasefromhimatthesametime.Atthatmoment,JappslidintotheroombehindPoirot,andCarellifellintotheInspector’sarms.
‘Hello,what’sallthis?’exclaimedInspectorJapp.‘Why,blessmeifitisn’tTonio!’
‘Ah!’Poirotgavealittlelaughashemovedawayfromthemboth.‘Ithought,mydearJapp,thatyouwouldprobablybeabletogiveanametothisgentleman.’
‘Oh,Iknowallabouthim,’Jappaffirmed.‘Tonio’squiteapubliccharacter.Aren’tyou,Tonio?I’llbetyouweresurprisedatMonsieurPoirot’smovejustthen.Whatdoyoucallthatstuff,Poirot?Ju-jitsuorsuchlike,isn’tit?PooroldTonio!’
AsPoirotplacedtheItalian’ssuitcaseonthetableandopenedit,CarelligrowledatJapp,‘You’vegotnothingagainstme.Youcan’tholdme.’
‘Iwonder,’saidtheInspector.‘I’llbetwewon’thavefartolookforthemanwhostolethatformula,anddidintheoldgentleman.’TurningtoPoirot,headded,‘ThatformulaisabsolutelybanginTonio’sline,and,sincewe’vefoundhimtryingtomakeagetaway,Ishouldn’tbesurprisedifhe’sgotthegoodsonhimthisminute.’
‘Iagreewithyou,’declaredPoirot.
JappranhishandsoverCarelli,whilePoirotwentthroughthesuitcase.
‘Well?’JappaskedPoirot.
‘Nothing,’thedetectivereplied,closingthesuitcase.‘Nothing.Iamdisappointed.’
‘Youthinkyourselvesveryclever,doyounot?’snarledCarelli.‘ButIcouldtellyou–’
Poirotinterruptedhim,speakingquietlyandsignificantly.‘Youcould,perhaps,butitwouldbeveryunwise.’
Startled,Carelliexclaimed,‘Whatdoyoumean?’
‘MonsieurPoirot’squiteright,’Jappdeclared.‘You’dbetterkeepyourmouthshut.’Movingtothehalldoor,heopeneditandcalled,‘Johnson!’Theyoungconstableputhisheadaroundthedoor.‘Getthewholefamilytogetherforme,willyou?’Jappaskedhim.‘Iwantthemallhere.’
‘Yes,sir,’saidJohnsonashelefttheroom.
‘Iprotest!I–’Carelligasped.Suddenly,hegrabbedhissuitcaseandmadeadashtowardsthefrenchwindows.Japprushedafterhim,grabbedhim,andthrewhimontothesettee,takingthesuitcasefromhimashedidso.‘Noone’shurtyouyet,sodon’tsqueal,’JappbarkedatthenowthoroughlycowedItalian.
Poirotstrolledtowardsthefrenchwindows.‘Pleasedon’tgoawaynow,MonsieurPoirot,’Jappcalledafterhim,puttingCarelli’ssuitcasedownbythecoffeetable.‘Thisshouldbeveryinteresting.’
‘No,no,mydearJapp,Iamnotleaving,’Poirotassuredhim.‘Ishallberighthere.Thisfamilygathering,asyousay,willbemostinterestingindeed.’
Chapter17
Afewminuteslater,whentheAmoryfamilybegantoassembleinthelibrary,Carelliwasstillseatedonthesettee,lookingrathersullen,whilePoirotcontinuedtohoverbythefrenchwindows.BarbaraAmory,withHastingsintow,returnedfromthegardenthroughthefrenchwindows,andBarbaramovedtosharethesetteewithCarelliwhileHastingswenttostandbyPoirot’sside.Poirotwhisperedtohiscolleague,‘Itwouldbehelpful,Hastings,ifyouwouldmakeanote–amentalnote,youunderstand–ofwheretheyallchoosetosit.’
‘Helpful?How?’askedHastings.
‘Psychologically,myfriend,’wasPoirot’sonlyreply.
WhenLuciaenteredtheroom,Hastingswatchedherasshesatinthechairtotherightofthetable.Richardarrivedwithhisaunt,MissAmory,whosatonthestoolasRichardmovedbehindthetabletokeepaprotectiveeyeonhiswife.EdwardRaynorwasthelasttoarrive,takingupapositionbehindthearm-chair.Hewasfollowedintotheroombytheconstable,Johnson,whoshutthedoorandstoodclosetoit.
RichardAmoryintroducedInspectorJapptothosetwomembersofthefamilywhomJapphadnotalreadymet.‘Myaunt,MissAmory,’heannounced,‘andmycousin,MissBarbaraAmory.’
Acknowledgingtheintroduction,Barbaraasked,‘What’salltheexcitement,Inspector?’
Jappavoidedherquestion.‘Now,Ithinkwe’reallhere,arewenot?’heremarked,movingtothefireplace.
MissAmorylookedbewilderedandalittleapprehensive.‘Idon’tquiteunderstand,’shesaidtoRichard.‘Whatisthis–thisgentlemandoinghere?’
‘IthinkperhapsIoughttotellyousomething,’Richardansweredher.‘Yousee,AuntCaroline–andallofyou,’headded,glancingaroundtheroom,‘DrGrahamhasdiscoveredthatmyfatherwas–poisoned.’
‘What?’exclaimedRaynorsharply.MissAmorygaveacryofhorror.
‘Hewaspoisonedwithhyoscine,’Richardcontinued.
Raynorgaveastart.‘Withhyoscine?Why,Isaw–’Hestoppeddead,lookingatLucia.
Takingasteptowardshim,InspectorJappasked,‘Whatdidyousee,MrRaynor?’
Thesecretarylookedembarrassed.‘Nothing–atleast–’hebeganuncertainly.Hisvoicetrailedoffintosilence
‘I’msorry,MrRaynor,’Jappinsisted,‘butI’vegottohavethetruth.Comenow,everyonerealizesyou’rekeepingsomethingback.’
‘It’snothing,really,’saidthesecretary.‘Imean,there’sobviouslysomequitereasonableexplanation.’
‘Explanationforwhat,MrRaynor?’askedJapp.
Raynorstillhesitated.‘Well?’Japppromptedhim.‘Itwasonlythat–’Raynorpausedagain,andthenmadeuphismindtocontinue.‘ItwasonlythatIsawMrsAmoryemptyingoutsomeofthoselittletabletsintoherhand.’
‘Whenwasthis?’Jappaskedhim.
‘Lastnight.IwascomingoutofSirClaud’sstudy.Theotherswerebusywiththegramophone.Theywereallclusteredaroundit.Inoticedherpickupatubeoftablets–Ithoughtitwasthehyoscine–andpourmostofthemoutintothepalmofherhand.ThenSirClaudcalledmebackintothestudyforsomething.’
‘Whydidn’tyoumentionthisbefore?’askedJapp.Luciabegantospeak,buttheInspectorsilencedher.‘Oneminute,please,MrsAmory,’heinsisted.‘I’dliketohearfromMrRaynorfirst.’
‘Ineverthoughtofitagain,’Raynortoldhim.‘ItwasonlywhenMrAmorysaidjustnowthatSirClaudhadbeenpoisonedwithhyoscinethatitcamebacktome.Ofcourse,Irealizeit’sperfectlyallright.Itwasjustthecoincidencethatstartledme.Thetabletsmightnothavebeenhyoscineatall.Itcouldhavebeenoneoftheothertubesthatshewashandling.’
JappnowturnedtoLucia.‘Well,ma’am,’heasked,‘whathaveyougottosayaboutit?’
Luciaseemedquitecomposedassheanswered,‘Iwantedsomethingtomakemesleep.’
AddressingRaynoragain,Jappasked,‘Yousaysheprettywellemptiedthetube?’
‘Itseemedsotome,’saidRaynor.
JappturnedagaintoLucia.‘Youwouldn’thaveneededsomanytabletstomakeyousleep.Oneortwowouldhavebeensufficient.Whatdidyoudowiththerest?’
Luciathoughtforamoment,beforereplying,‘Ican’tremember.’Shewasabouttocontinue,whenCarellirosetohisfeetandburstoutvenomously,‘Yousee,Inspector?There’syourmurderess.’
BarbararosequicklyfromthesetteeandmovedawayfromCarelli,whileHastingshurriedtoherside.TheItaliancontinued,‘Youshallhavethetruth,Inspector.Icamedownhereespeciallytoseethatwoman.Shehadsentforme.ShesaidshewouldgetSirClaud’sformula,andsheofferedtosellittome.I’lladmitthatI’vedealtwithsuchthingsinthepast.’
‘That’snotmuchofanadmission,’Jappadvisedhim,movingbetweenCarelliandLucia.‘Weknowasmuchalready.’HeturnedtoLucia.‘Whathaveyoutosaytoallthis,ma’am?’
Luciarose,herfacedrainedofcolour,andRichardwenttoher.‘I’mnotgoingtoallow–’hebegan,whenJappstoppedhim.
‘Ifyouplease,sir.’
Carellispokeagain.‘Justlookatthatwoman!Noneofyouknowwhosheis.ButIdo!She’sthedaughterofSelmaGoetz.Thedaughterofoneofthemostinfamouswomentheworldhaseverknown.’
‘It’snottrue,Richard,’Luciacried.‘It’snottrue!Don’tlistentohim–’
‘I’llbreakeveryboneinyourbody!’RichardAmorygrowledatCarelli.
JapptookapacetowardsRichard.‘Keepcalm,sir,dokeepcalm,please,’headmonished.‘We’vegottogettothebottomofthis.’JappturnedtoLucia.‘Nowthen,MrsAmory.’
Therewasapause.ThenLuciatriedtospeak.‘I–I–’shebegan.ShelookedatherhusbandandthenatPoirot,holdingoutherhandhelplesslytothedetective.
‘Havecourage,madame,’Poirotadvisedher.‘Trustinme.Tellthem.Tellthemthetruth.Wehavecometothepointwherelieswillservenolonger.Thetruthwillhavetocomeout.’
LucialookedpleadinglyatPoirot,buthemerelyrepeated,‘Havecourage,madame.Si,si.Bebraveandspeak.’Hereturnedtohispositionbythefrenchwindows.
Afteralongpause,Luciabegantospeak,hervoicelowandstifled.‘ItistruethatIamSelmaGoetz’sdaughter.ItisnottruethatIaskedthatmantocomehere,orthatIofferedtosellhimSirClaud’sformula.Hecameheretoblackmailme!’
‘Blackmail!’gaspedRichard,movingtoher.
LuciaturnedtoRichard.Therewasanurgencyinhertoneasshespoke.‘HethreatenedtotellyouaboutmymotherunlessIgottheformulaforhim,butIdidn’tdoit.Ithinkhemusthavestolenit.Hehadthechance.Hewasaloneinthere–inthestudy.AndIseenowthathewantedmetotakethehyoscineandkillmyself,sothateveryonewouldthinkthatitwasIwhohadstolentheformula.Healmosthypnotizedmeinto–’ShebrokedownandsobbedonRichard’sshoulder.
Withacryof‘Lucia,mydarling!’Richardembracedher.Then,passinghiswifeovertoMissAmory,whohadrisenandwhonowembracedthedistressedyoungwomanconsolingly,RichardaddressedJapp.‘Inspector,Iwanttospeaktoyoualone.’
JapplookedatRichardAmoryforamoment,andthengaveabriefnodtoJohnson.‘Verywell,’heagreed,astheconstableopenedthedoorforMissAmoryandLucia.BarbaraandHastingstooktheopportunityofreturningtothegardenthroughthefrenchwindows,whileEdwardRaynor,asheleft,murmuredtoRichard,‘I’msorry,MrAmory,verysorry.’
AsCarellipickeduphissuitcaseandfollowedRaynorout,Jappinstructedhisconstable,‘KeepyoureyeonMrsAmory–andalsoonDrCarelli.’Carelliturnedatthedoor,andJappcontinued,totheconstable,‘There’stobenofunnybusinessfromanyone,youunderstand?’
‘Iunderstand,sir,’repliedJohnsonashefollowedCarellioutoftheroom.
‘I’msorry,MrAmory,’saidJapptoRichardAmory,‘butafterwhatMrRaynorhastoldus,I’mboundtotakeeveryprecaution.AndIwantMrPoirottoremainhere,asawitnesstowhateveryoutellme.’
RichardapproachedJappwiththeairofamanwhohascometoamomentousdecision.Takingadeepbreath,hespokewithdetermination.‘Inspector!’
‘Well,sir,whatisit?’askedJapp.
Verydeliberatelyandslowly,Richardreplied,‘Ithinkit’stimeIconfessed.Ikilledmyfather.’
Jappsmiled.‘I’mafraidthatwon’twash,sir.’
Richardlookedastonished.‘Whatdoyoumean?’
‘No,sir,’Jappcontinued.‘Or,toputitdifferently,thatcatwon’tjump.You’reverysetonyourgoodlady,Irealize.Newlymarriedandallthat.But,tospeakplainlytoyou,it’snomannerofuseputtingyourneckinahalterforthesakeofabadwoman.Thoughshe’sagoodlooker,andnomistake,I’lladmit.’
‘InspectorJapp!’exclaimedRichard,angrily.
‘There’snopointingettingupsetwithme,sir,’Jappcontinuedimperturbably.‘I’vetoldyoutheplaintruthwithoutbeatingaboutthebush,andI’venodoubtthatMrPoirotherewilltellyouthesame.I’msorry,sir,butdutyisduty,andmurderismurder.That’sallthereistoit.’Jappnoddeddecisively,andlefttheroom.
TurningtoPoirot,whohadbeenobservingthescenefromthesettee,Richardaskedcoldly,‘Well,areyougoingtotellmethesame,MonsieurPoirot?’
Rising,Poirottookacigarette-casefromhispocketandextractedacigarette.InsteadofansweringRichard’squestion,heposedoneofhisown.‘MonsieurAmory,whendidyoufirstsuspectyourwife?’heasked.
‘Inever–’Richardbegan,butPoirotinterruptedhim,pickingupaboxofmatchesfromthetableashespoke.
‘Please,Ibegofyou,MonsieurAmory,nothingbutthetruth!Youdidsuspecther,Iknowit.YoususpectedherbeforeIarrived.Thatiswhyyouweresoanxioustogetmeawayfromthishouse.Donotdenyit.ItisimpossibletodeceiveHerculePoirot.’Helithiscigarette,replacedtheboxofmatchesonthetable,andsmiledupatthemuchtallermanwhotoweredoverhim.Theymadearidiculouscontrast.
‘Youaremistaken,’RichardtoldPoirotstiffly.‘Utterlymistaken.HowcouldIsuspectLucia?’
‘Andyet,ofcourse,thereisanequallygoodcasetobemadeagainstyou,’Poirotcontinuedreflectively,asheresumedhisseat.‘Youhandledthedrugs,youhandledthecoffee,youwereshortofmoneyanddesperatetoacquiresome.Oh,yes,anyonemightbeexcusedforsuspectingyou.’
‘InspectorJappdoesn’tseemtoagreewithyou,’Richardobserved.
‘Ah,Japp!Hehasthecommonsense,’Poirotsmiled.‘Heisnotawomaninlove.’
‘Awomaninlove?’Richardsoundedpuzzled.
‘Letmegiveyoualessoninpsychology,monsieur,’Poirotoffered.‘WhenIfirstarrived,yourwifecameuptomeandbeggedmetostayhereanddiscoverthemurderer.Wouldaguiltywomanhavedonethat?’
‘Youmean–’Richardbeganquickly.
‘Imean,’Poirotinterruptedhim,‘thatbeforethesunsetstonight,youwillbeaskingherpardonuponyourknees.’
‘Whatareyousaying?’
‘Iamsayingtoomuch,perhaps,’Poirotadmitted,rising.‘Now,monsieur,placeyourselfinmyhands.InthehandsofHerculePoirot.’
‘Youcansaveher?’Richardaskedwithdesperationinhisvoice.
Poirotregardedhimsolemnly.‘Ihavepledgedmyword–although,whenIdidso,Ididnotrealizehowdifficultitwasgoingtobe.Yousee,thetimeitisveryshort,andsomethingmustbedonequickly.YoumustpromisemethatyouwilldoexactlyasItellyou,withoutaskingquestionsormakingdifficulties.Doyoupromisemethat?’
‘Verywell,’repliedRichardratherunwillingly.
‘Thatisgood.Andnow,listentome.WhatIsuggestisneitherdifficultnorimpossible.Itis,infact,thecommonsense.Thishousewillshortlybegivenovertothepolice.Theywillswarmalloverit.Theywillmaketheirinvestigationseverywhere.Foryourselfandyourfamilyitcouldbeveryunpleasant.Isuggestthatyouleave.’
‘Givethehouseovertothepolice?’Richardasked,incredulously.
‘Thatismysuggestion,’Poirotrepeated.‘Ofcourse,youwillhavetoremainintheneighbourhood.Buttheysaythelocalhotelisfairlycomfortable.Engageroomsthere.Thenyouwillbecloseathandwhenthepolicewishtoquestionyouall.’
‘Butwhendoyousuggestthatthisshouldtakeplace?’
Poirotbeamedathim.‘Myideawas–immediately.’
‘Surelyitwillalllookveryodd?’
‘Notatall,notatall,’thelittledetectiveassuredRichard,smilingagain.‘Itwillappeartobeamoveoftheutmost–howdoyousay?–theutmostsensitivity.Theassociationsherearehatefultoyou–youcannotbeartoremainanotherhour.Iassureyou,itwillsoundverywell.’
‘ButhowabouttheInspector?’
‘ImyselfwillfixitupwithInspectorJapp.’
‘Istillcan’tseewhatgoodthisisgoingtoachieve,’Richardpersisted.
‘No,ofcourseyoudonotsee.’Poirotsoundedmorethanatriflesmug.Heshruggedhisshoulders.‘Itisnotnecessarythatyoushouldsee.ButIsee.I,HerculePoirot.Thatisenough.’HetookRichardbytheshoulders.‘Go,andmakethearrangements.Or,ifyoucannotgiveyourmindtoit,letRaynormakethemforyou.Go!Go!’HealmostpushedRichardtothedoor.
WithafinalanxiouslookbackatPoirot,Richardlefttheroom.‘Oh,theseEnglish!Howobstinate,’mutteredPoirot.Hemovedtothefrenchwindowsandcalled,‘MademoiselleBarbara!’
Chapter18
InanswertoPoirot’scall,BarbaraAmoryappearedoutsidethefrenchwindows.‘Whatisit?Hassomethingelsehappened?’sheasked.
Poirotgaveherhismostwinningsmile.‘Ah,mademoiselle,’hesaid.‘IwonderifyoumightbeabletosparemycolleagueHastingsforjustalittleminuteortwo,perhaps?’
Barbara’sreplywasaccompaniedbyaskittishglance.‘So!Youwanttotakemylittlepetawayfromme,doyou?’
‘Justforaveryshorttime,mademoiselle,Ipromiseyou.’
‘Thenyoushall,MonsieurPoirot.’Turningbackintothegarden,Barbaracalled,‘Mypet,you’rewanted.’
‘Ithankyou,’Poirotsmiledagainwithapolitebow.Barbarareturnedtothegarden,andafewmomentslaterHastingsenteredthelibrarythroughthefrenchwindows,lookingsomewhatashamed.
‘Andwhathaveyoutosayforyourself?’Poirotaskedinatoneofmockannoyance.
Hastingsattemptedanapologeticsmile.‘Itisallverywelltoputonthegrinofthesheep,’Poirotadmonishedhim.‘Ileaveyouhere,onguard,andthenextthingIknowyouarepromenadingyourselfwiththatverycharmingyoungladyinthegarden.Youaregenerallythemostreliableofmen,moncher,butassoonasaprettyyoungwomanappearsuponthescene,yourjudgementfliesoutofthewindow.Zutalors!’
Hastings’sheepishgrinfaded,tobereplacedbyablushofembarrassment.‘Isay,I’mawfullysorry,Poirot,’heexclaimed.‘Ijuststeppedoutsideforasecond,andthenIsawyouthroughthewindow,comingintotheroom,soIthoughtitdidn’tmatter.’
‘Youmeanyouthoughtitbetternottoreturntofaceme,’declaredPoirot.‘Well,mydearHastings,youmayhavedonethemostirreparabledamage.IfoundCarelliinhere.ThegoodLordaloneknowswhathewasdoing,orwhatevidencehewastamperingwith.’
‘Isay,Poirot,Ireallyamsorry,’Hastingsapologizedagain.‘I’mmostawfullysorry.’
‘Ifyouhavenotdonethedamageirreparable,itismorebygoodluckthanforanyotherreason.Butnow,monami,themomenthascomewhenwemustemployourlittlegreycells.’PretendingtosmackHastingsonthecheek,Poirotinfactgavehiscolleagueanaffectionatepat.
‘Ah,good!Let’sgettowork,’Hastingsexclaimed.‘No,itisnotgood,myfriend,’Poirottoldhim.‘Itisbad.Itisobscure.’Hisfaceworeatroubledlookashecontinued,‘Itisdark,asdarkasitwaslastnight.’Hethoughtforamoment,andthenadded,‘But–yes–Ithinkthereisperhapsanidea.Thegermofanidea.Yes,wewillstartthere!’
Lookingcompletelymystified,Hastingsasked,‘Whatonearthareyoutalkingabout?’
ThetoneofPoirot’svoicechanged.Hespokegravelyandthoughtfully.‘WhydidSirClauddie,Hastings?Answermethat.WhydidSirClauddie?’
Hastingsstaredathim.‘Butweknowthat,’heexclaimed.
‘Dowe?’askedPoirot.‘Areyousoverysure?’
‘Er–yes,’Hastingsresponded,thoughsomewhatuncertainly.‘Hedied–hediedbecausehewaspoisoned.’
Poirotmadeanimpatientgesture.‘Yes,butwhywashepoisoned?’
Hastingsthoughtcarefullybeforereplying.Then,‘Surelyitmusthavebeenbecausethethiefsuspected–’hebegan.
PoirotslowlyshookhisheadasHastingscontinued,‘becausethethiefsuspected–thathehadbeendiscovered–’HebrokeoffagainasheobservedPoirotcontinuingtoshakehishead.
‘Suppose,Hastings–’Poirotmurmured,‘justsupposethatthethiefdidnotsuspect?’
‘Idon’tquitesee,’Hastingsconfessed.
Poirotmovedaway,andthenturnedbackwithhisarmraisedinagesturethatseemedintendedtoholdhisfriend’sattention.Hepausedandclearedhisthroat.‘Letmerecounttoyou,Hastings,’hedeclared,‘thesequenceofeventsastheymighthavegone,orratherasIthinktheyweremeanttogo.’
HastingssatinthechairbythetableasPoirotcontinued.
‘SirClauddiesinhischaironenight.’Poirotmovedtothearm-chair,sat,andpausedforamomentbeforerepeatingthoughtfully,‘Yes,SirClauddiesinhischair.Therearenosuspiciouscircumstancesattendingthatdeath.Inallprobabilityitwillbeputdowntoheartfailure.Itwillbesomedaysbeforehisprivatepapersareexamined.Hiswillistheonlydocumentthatwillbesearchedfor.Afterthefuneral,induecourse,itwillbediscoveredthathisnotesonthenewexplosiveareincomplete.Itmayneverbeknownthattheexactformulaexisted.Youseewhatthatgivestoourthief,Hastings?’
‘Yes.’
‘What?’askedPoirot.
Hastingslookedpuzzled.‘What?’herepeated.
‘Security.Thatiswhatitgivesthethief.Hecandisposeofhisbootyquitesafely,wheneverhewishesto.Thereisnopressureuponhim.Eveniftheexistenceoftheformulaisknown,hewillhavehadplentyoftimetocoverhistracks.’
‘Well,it’sanidea–yes,Isupposeso,’Hastingscommentedinadubioustone.
‘Butnaturallyitisanidea!’Poirotcried.‘AmInotHerculePoirot?Butseenowwherethisidealeadsus.IttellsusthatthemurderofSirClaudwasnotachancemanoeuvreexecutedonthespurofthemoment.Itwasplannedbeforehand.Beforehand.Youseenowwhereweare?’
‘No,’Hastingsadmittedwithanengagingcandour.‘YouknowverywellIneverseethesethings.Iknowthatwe’reinthelibraryofSirClaud’shouse,andthat’sall.’
‘Yes,myfriend,youareright,’Poirottoldhim.‘WeareinthelibraryofSirClaudAmory’shouse.Itisnotmorningbutevening.Thelightshavejustgoneout.Thethief’splanshavegoneawry.’
Poirotsatveryupright,andwaggedhisforefingeremphaticallytoemphasizehispoints.‘SirClaud,who,inthenormalcourseofthings,wouldnothavegonetothatsafeuntilthefollowingday,hasdiscoveredhislossbyamerechance.And,astheoldgentlemanhimselfsaid,thethiefiscaughtlikearatinatrap.Yes,butthethief,whoisalsothemurderer,knowssomething,too,thatSirClauddoesnot.ThethiefknowsthatinaveryfewminutesSirClaudwillbesilencedforever.He–orshe–hasoneproblemthathastobesolved,andoneonly–tohidethepapersafelyduringthosefewmomentsofdarkness.Shutyoureyes,Hastings,asIshutmine.Thelightshavegoneout,andwecanseenothing.Butwecanhear.Repeattome,Hastings,asaccuratelyasyoucan,thewordsofMissAmorywhenshedescribedthissceneforus.’
Hastingsshuthiseyes.Thenhebegantospeak,slowly,withaneffortofmemoryandseveralpauses.‘Gasps,’heuttered.
Poirotnodded.‘Alotoflittlegasps,’Hastingswenton,andPoirotnoddedagain.
Hastingsconcentratedforatime,andthencontinued,‘Thenoiseofachairfalling–ametallicclink–thatmusthavebeenthekey,Iimagine.’
‘Quiteright,’saidPoirot.‘Thekey.Continue.’
‘Ascream.ThatwasLuciascreaming.ShecalledouttoSirClaud–Thentheknockingcameatthedoor–Oh!Waitamoment–rightatthebeginning,thenoiseoftearingsilk.’Hastingsopenedhiseyes.
‘Yes,tearingsilk,’Poirotexclaimed.Herose,movedtothedesk,andthencrossedtothefireplace.‘Itisallthere,Hastings,inthosefewmomentsofdarkness.Allthere.Andyetourearstellus–nothing.’Hestoppedatthemantelpieceandmechanicallystraightenedthevaseofspills.
‘Oh,dostopstraighteningthosedamnedthings,Poirot,’Hastingscomplained.‘You’realwaysatit.’
Hisattentionarrested,Poirotremovedhishandfromthevase.‘Whatisthatyousay?’heasked.‘Yes,itistrue.’Hestaredatthevaseofspills.‘Irememberstraighteningthembutalittlehourago.Andnow–itisnecessarythatIstraightenthemagain.’Hespokeexcitedly.‘Why,Hastings–whyisthat?’
‘Becausethey’recrooked,Isuppose,’Hastingsrepliedinaboredtone.‘It’sjustyourlittlemaniaforneatness.’
‘Tearingsilk!’exclaimedPoirot.‘No,Hastings!Thesoundisthesame.’Hestaredatthepaperspills,andsnatchedupthevasethatcontainedthem.‘Tearingpaper–’hecontinuedashemovedawayfromthemantelpiece.
Hisexcitementcommunicateditselftohisfriend.‘Whatisit?’Hastingsasked,springingupandmovingtohim.
Poirotstood,tumblingoutthespillsontothesettee,andexaminingthem.EverynowandthenhehandedonetoHastings,muttering,‘Hereisone.Ah,another,andyetanother.’
Hastingsunfoldedthespillsandscrutinizedthem.‘C19N23–’hebegantoreadaloudfromoneofthem.
‘Yes,yes!’exclaimedPoirot.
‘Itistheformula!’‘Isay,that’swonderful!’
‘Quick!Foldthemupagain!’
Poirotordered,andHastingsbegantodoso.‘Oh,youaresoslow!’Poirotadmonishedhim.‘Quick!Quick!’SnatchingthespillsfromHastings,heputthembackintothevaseandhastenedtoreturnittothemantelpiece.
Lookingdumbfounded,Hastingsjoinedhimthere.
Poirotbeamed.‘ItintriguesyouwhatIdothere,yes?Tellme,Hastings,whatisitthatIhavehereinthisvase?’
‘Why,spills,ofcourse,’Hastingsrepliedinatoneoftremendousirony.
‘No,monami,itischeese.’
‘Cheese?’
‘Precisely,myfriend,cheese.’
‘Isay,Poirot,’Hastingsenquiredsarcastically,‘you’reallright,aren’tyou?Imean,youhaven’tgotaheadacheoranything?’
Poirot’sreplyignoredhisfriend’sfrivolousquestion.‘Forwhatdoyouusecheese,Hastings?Iwilltellyou,monami.Youuseittobaitamousetrap.Wewaitnowforonethingonly–themouse.’
‘Andthemouse–’
‘Themousewillcome,myfriend,’PoirotassuredHastings.‘Restassuredofthat.Ihavesenthimamessage.Hewillnotfailtorespond.’
BeforeHastingshadtimetoreacttoPoirot’scrypticannouncement,thedooropenedandEdwardRaynorenteredtheroom.‘Oh,you’rehere,MonsieurPoirot,’thesecretaryobserved.‘AndCaptainHastingsalso.InspectorJappwouldliketospeaktoyoubothupstairs.’
Chapter19
‘Wewillcomeatonce,’Poirotreplied.FollowedbyHastings,hewalkedtothedoor,asRaynorenteredthelibraryandcrossedtothefireplace.Atthedoor,Poirotsuddenlywheeledroundtolookatthesecretary.‘Bytheway,MrRaynor,’thedetectiveasked,ashemovedbacktothecentreoftheroom,‘doyoubyanychanceknowwhetherDrCarelliwashereinthelibraryatallthismorning?’
‘Yes,hewas,’Raynortoldthedetective.‘Ifoundhimhere.’
‘Ah!’Poirotseemedpleasedatthis.‘Andwhatwashedoing?’
‘Hewastelephoning,Ibelieve.’
‘Washetelephoningwhenyoucamein?’
‘No,hewasjustcomingbackintotheroom.HehadbeeninSirClaud’sstudy.’
Poirotconsideredthisforamoment,andthenaskedRaynor,‘Whereexactlywereyouthen?Canyouremember?’
Stillstandingbythefireplace,Raynorreplied,‘Oh,somewhereabouthere,Ithink.’
‘DidyouhearanyofDrCarelli’sconversationonthephone?’
‘No,’saidthesecretary.‘Hemadeitperfectlyclearthathewantedtobealone,soIclearedout.’
‘Isee.’Poirothesitated,andthentookanotebookandpencilfromhispocket.Writingafewwordsonapage,hetoreitout.‘Hastings!’hecalled.
Hastings,whohadbeenhoveringbythedoor,cametohim,andPoirotgavehisfriendthefoldedpage.‘WouldyoubesokindastotakethatuptoInspectorJapp?’
RaynorwatchedHastingsleavetheroomonhiserrand,andthenasked,‘Whatwasthatallabout?’
Puttingthenotebookandpencilbackinhispocket,Poirotreplied,‘ItoldJappthatIwouldbewithhiminafewminutes,andthatImightbeabletotellhimthenameofthemurderer.’
‘Really?Youknowwhoitis?’askedRaynorinastateofsomeexcitement.
Therewasamomentarypause.HerculePoirotseemedtoholdthesecretaryunderthespellofhispersonality.Raynorwatchedthedetective,fascinated,asheslowlybegantospeak.‘Yes,IthinkIknowwhothemurdereris–atlast,’Poirotannounced.‘Iamremindedofanothercase,notsolongago.NevershallIforgetthekillingofLordEdgware.Iwasnearlydefeated–yes,I,HerculePoirot!–bytheextremelysimplecunningofavacantbrain.Yousee,MonsieurRaynor,theverysimple-mindedhaveoftenthegeniustocommitanuncomplicatedcrimeandthenleaveitalone.LetushopethatthemurdererofSirClaud,ontheotherhand,isintelligentandsuperiorandthoroughlypleasedwithhimselfandunabletoresist–howdoyousay?–paintingthelily.’Poirot’seyeslitupinvividanimation.
‘I’mnotsurethatIunderstandyou,’saidRaynor.‘Doyoumeanthatit’snotMrsAmory?’
‘No,itisnotMrsAmory,’Poirottoldhim.‘ThatiswhyIwrotemylittlenote.Thatpoorladyhassufferedenough.Shemustbesparedanyfurtherquestioning.’
Raynorlookedthoughtful,andthenexclaimed,‘ThenI’llbetit’sCarelli.Yes?’
Poirotwaggedafingerathimplayfully.‘MonsieurRaynor,youmustpermitmetokeepmylittlesecretsuntilthelastmoment.’Takingoutahandkerchief,hemoppedhisbrow.‘MonDieu,howhotitistoday!’hecomplained.
‘Wouldyoulikeadrink?’askedRaynor.‘I’mforgettingmymanners.Ishouldhaveofferedyouoneearlier.’
Poirotbeamed.‘Youareverykind.Iwillhaveawhisky,please,ifImay.’
‘Certainly.Justamoment.’Raynorlefttheroom,whilePoirotwanderedacrosstothefrenchwindowsandlookedoutintothegardenforamoment.Then,movingtothesettee,heshookthecushions,beforedriftingacrosstothemantelpiecetoexaminetheornaments.InafewmomentsRaynorreturnedwithtwowhiskiesandsodasonatray.HewatchedasPoirotliftedahandtoanornamentonthemantelpiece.
‘Thisisavaluableantique,Ifancy,’Poirotremarked,pickingupajug.
‘Isit?’wasRaynor’suninterestedcomment.‘Idon’tknowmuchaboutthatkindofthing.Comeandhaveadrink,’hesuggestedashesethistraydownonthecoffeetable.
‘Thankyou,’murmuredPoirot,joininghimthere.
‘Well,here’sluck,’saidRaynor,takingaglassanddrinking.
Withabow,Poirotraisedtheotherglasstohislips.‘Toyou,myfriend.Andnowletmetellyouofmysuspicions.Ifirstrealizedthat–’
Hebrokeoffsuddenly,jerkinghisheadoverhisshoulderasthoughsomesoundhadcaughthisear.LookingfirstatthedoorandthenatRaynor,heputhisfingertohislips,indicatingthathethoughtsomeonemightbeeavesdropping.
Raynornoddedincomprehension.Thetwomencreptstealthilyuptothedoor,andPoirotgesturedtothesecretarytoremainintheroom.Poirotopenedthedoorsharplyandbouncedoutside,butreturnedimmediatelylookingextremelycrestfallen.‘Surprising,’headmittedtoRaynor.‘IcouldhaveswornIheardsomething.Ahwell,Imadeamistake.Itdoesnothappenveryoften.Avotresanté,myfriend.’Hedrainedthecontentsofhisglass.
‘Ah!’exclaimedRaynor,ashealsodrank.
‘Ibegyourpardon?’askedPoirot.
‘Nothing.Aloadoffmymind,thatisall.’
Poirotmovedtothetableandputhisglassdown.‘Doyouknow,MonsieurRaynor,’heconfided,‘tobeabsolutelyhonestwithyou,IhaveneverbecomequiteusedtoyourEnglishnationaldrink,thewhisky.Thetaste,itpleasesmenot.Itisbitter.’Hemovedtothearm-chairandsat.
‘Really?I’msosorry.Minedidn’ttasteatallbitter.’Raynorputhisglassdownonthecoffeetable,andcontinued,‘Ithinkyouwereabouttotellmesomethingjustnow,wereyounot?’
Poirotlookedsurprised.‘WasI?Whatcanithavebeen?CanIhaveforgottenalready?IthinkthatperhapsIwantedtoexplaintoyouhowIproceedinaninvestigation.Voyons!Onefactleadstoanother,sowecontinue.Doesthenextonefitinwiththat?Amerveille!Good!Wecanproceed.Thisnextlittlefact–no!Ah,thatiscurious!Thereissomethingmissing–alinkinthechainthatisnotthere.Weexamine.Wesearch.Andthatlittlecuriousfact,thatperhapspaltrylittledetailthatwillnottally,weputithere!’Poirotmadeanextravagantgesturetohisheadwithhishand.‘Itissignificant!Itistremendous!’
‘Y-es,Isee,’Raynormurmureddubiously.
PoirotshookhisforefingersofiercelyinRaynor’sfacethatthesecretaryalmostquailedbeforeit.‘Ah,beware!Periltothedetectivewhosays,“Itissosmall–itdoesnotmatter.Itwillnotagree.Iwillforgetit.”Thatwayliesconfusion!Everythingmatters.’Poirotsuddenlystopped,andtappedhishead.‘Ah!NowIrememberwhatIwantedtotalktoyouabout.Itwasoneofthosesmall,unimportantlittlefacts.Iwantedtotalktoyou,MonsieurRaynor,aboutdust.’
Raynorsmiledpolitely.‘Dust?’
‘Precisely.Dust,’Poirotrepeated.‘MyfriendHastings,heremindedmejustnowthatIamadetectiveandnotahousemaid.Hethoughthimselfveryclevertomakesucharemark,butIamnotsosure.Thehousemaidandthedetective,afterall,havesomethingincommon.Thehousemaid,whatdoesshedo?Sheexploresallthedarkcornerswithherbroom.Shebringsintothelightofdayallthehiddenthingsthathaverolledconvenientlyoutofsight.Doesnotthedetectivedomuchthesame?’
Raynorlookedbored,butmurmured,‘Veryinteresting,MonsieurPoirot.’Hemovedtothechairbythetableandsat,beforeasking,‘But–isthatallyouwereintendingtosay?’
‘No,notquite,’repliedPoirot.Heleanedforward.‘Youdidnotthrowdustinmyeyes,MonsieurRaynor,becausetherewasnodust.Doyouunderstand?’
Thesecretarystaredathimintently.‘No,I’mafraidIdon’t.’
‘Therewasnodustonthatboxofdrugs.MademoiselleBarbaracommentedonthefact.Butthereshouldhavebeendust.Thatshelfonwhichitstands’–andPoirotgesturedtowardsitashespoke–‘isthickwithdust.ItwasthenthatIknew–’
‘Knewwhat?’
‘Iknew,’Poirotcontinued,‘thatsomeonehadtakenthatboxdownrecently.ThatthepersonwhopoisonedSirClaudAmorywouldnotneedtogoneartheboxlastnight,sincehehadonsomeearlieroccasionhelpedhimselftoallthepoisonheneeded,choosingatimewhenheknewhewouldnotbedisturbed.Youdidnotgoneartheboxofdrugslastnight,becauseyouhadalreadytakenfromitthehyoscineyouneeded.Butyoudidhandlethecoffee,MonsieurRaynor.’
Raynorsmiledpatiently.‘Dearme!DoyouaccusemeofmurderingSirClaud?’
‘Doyoudenyit?’askedPoirot.
Raynorpausedbeforereplying.Whenhespokeagain,aharshertonehadenteredhisvoice.‘Ohno,’hedeclared,‘Idon’tdenyit.WhyshouldI?I’mreallyratherproudofthewholething.Itoughttohavegoneoffwithoutahitch.ItwassheerbadluckthatmadeSirClaudopenthesafeagainlastnight.He’sneverdonesuchathingbefore.’
Poirotsoundedratherdrowsyasheasked,‘Whyareyoutellingmeallthis?’
‘Whynot?You’resosympathetic.It’sapleasuretotalktoyou.’Raynorlaughed,andcontinued.‘Yes,thingsverynearlywentwrong.Butthat’swhatIreallypridemyselfon,turningafailureintoasuccess.’Atriumphantexpressionappearedonhisface.‘Todeviseahidingplaceonthespurofthemomentwasreallyrathercreditable.Wouldyoulikemetotellyouwheretheformulaisnow?’
Hisdrowsinessnowaccentuated,Poirotseemedtofinddifficultyinspeakingclearly.‘I–Idonotunderstandyou,’hewhispered.
‘Youmadeonelittlemistake,MonsieurPoirot,’Raynortoldhimwithasneer.‘Youunderestimatedmyintelligence.Iwasn’treallytakeninjustnowbyyouringeniousredherringaboutpooroldCarelli.Amanwithyourbrainscouldn’tseriouslyhavebelievedthatCarelli–why,itwon’tbearthinkingabout.Yousee,I’mplayingforbigstakes.Thatpieceofpaper,deliveredintherightquarters,meansfiftythousandpoundstome.’Heleanedback.‘Justthinkwhatamanofmyabilitycandowithfiftythousandpounds.’
Inavoiceofincreasingdrowsiness,Poirotmanagedtoreply,‘I–Idonot–liketothinkofit.’
‘Well,perhapsnot.Iappreciatethat,’Raynorconceded.‘Onehastoallowforadifferentpointofview.’
Poirotleanedforward,andappearedtobemakinganefforttopullhimselftogether.‘Anditwillnotbeso,’heexclaimed.‘Iwilldenounceyou.I,HerculePoirot–’Hebrokeoffsuddenly.
‘HerculePoirotwilldonothing,’declaredRaynor,asthedetectivesankbackinhisseat.Withalaughwhichwasclosetoasneer,thesecretarycontinued,‘Youneverguessed,didyou,evenwhenyousaidthatthewhiskywasbitter?Yousee,mydearMonsieurPoirot,Itooknotjustonebutseveraltubesofhyoscinefromthatbox.Ifanything,youhavehadslightlymorethanIgaveSirClaud.’
‘Ah,monDieu,’Poirotgasped,strugglingtorise.Inaweakvoicehetriedtocall,‘Hastings!Hast–’Hisvoicefadedaway,andhesankbackintohischair.Hiseyelidsclosed.
Raynorgottohisfeet,pushedhischairaside,andmovedtostandoverPoirot.‘Trytokeepawake,MonsieurPoirot,’hesaid.‘Surelyyou’dliketoseewheretheformulawashidden,wouldn’tyou?’
Hewaitedforamoment,butPoirot’seyesremainedclosed.‘Aswift,dreamlesssleep,andnoawakening,asourdearfriendCarelliputsit,’Raynorcommenteddrylyashewenttothemantelpiece,tookthespills,foldedthem,andputtheminhispocket.Hemovedtowardsthefrenchwindows,pausingonlytocalloverhisshoulder,‘Goodbye,mydearMonsieurPoirot.’
HewasabouttostepoutintothegardenwhenhewashaltedbythesoundofPoirot’svoice,speakingcheerfullyandnaturally.‘Wouldyounotliketheenvelopeaswell?’
Raynorspunaround,andatthesamemomentInspectorJappenteredthelibraryfromthegarden.Movingbackafewsteps,Raynorpausedirresolutely,andthendecidedtobolt.Herushedtothefrenchwindows,onlytobeseizedbyJappandbyConstableJohnson,whoalsosuddenlyappearedfromthegarden.
Poirotrosefromhischair,stretchinghimself.‘Well,mydearJapp,’heasked.‘Didyougetitall?’
DraggingRaynorbacktothecentreoftheroomwiththeaidofhisconstable,Jappreplied,‘Everyword,thankstoyournote,Poirot.Youcanheareverythingperfectlyfromtheterracethere,justoutsidethewindow.Now,let’sgooverhimandseewhatwecanfind.’HepulledthespillsfromRaynor’spocket,andthrewthemontothecoffeetable.Henextpulledoutasmalltube.‘Aha!Hyoscine!Empty.’
‘Ah,Hastings,’Poirotgreetedhisfriend,asheenteredfromthehallcarryingaglassofwhiskyandsodawhichhehandedtothedetective.
‘Yousee?’PoirotaddressedRaynorinhiskindliestmanner.‘Irefusedtoplayinyourcomedy.Instead,Imadeyouplayinmine.Inmynote,IgaveinstructionstoJappandalsotoHastings.ThenImakethingseasyforyoubycomplainingoftheheat.Iknowyouwillsuggestadrink.Itis,afterall,theopeningthatyouneed.Afterthat,itisallsostraightforward.WhenIgotothedoor,thegoodHastingsheisreadyoutsidewithanotherwhiskyandsoda.IchangeglassesandIambackagain.Andso–onwiththecomedy.’
PoirotgavetheglassbacktoHastings.‘Myself,IthinkIplaymypartratherwell,’hedeclared.
TherewasapausewhilePoirotandRaynorsurveyedeachother.ThenRaynorspoke.‘I’vebeenafraidofyoueversinceyoucameintothishouse.Myschemecouldhaveworked.Icouldhavesetmyselfupforlifewiththefiftythousandpounds–perhapsevenmore–thatIwouldhavegotforthatwretchedformula.But,fromthemomentyouarrived,IstoppedfeelingabsolutelyconfidentthatI’dgetawaywithkillingthatpompousoldfoolandstealinghispreciousscrapofpaper.’
‘Ihaveobservedalreadythatyouareintelligent,’Poirotreplied.Hesatagaininthearm-chair,lookingdistinctlypleasedwithhimself,asJappbegantospeakrapidly.
‘EdwardRaynor,IarrestyouforthewilfulmurderofSirClaudAmory,andIwarnyouthatanythingyousaymaybeusedinevidence.’JappmadeagesturetotheconstabletotakeRaynoraway.
Chapter20
AsRaynormadehisexitinthecustodyofConstableJohnson,thetwomenpassedMissAmory,whowasenteringthelibraryatthesamemoment.Shelookedbackatthemanxiously,andthenhastenedtoPoirot.‘MonsieurPoirot,’shegaspedasPoirotrosetogreether,‘isthistrue?WasitMrRaynorwhomurderedmypoorbrother?’
‘Iamafraidso,mademoiselle,’saidPoirot.
MissAmorylookeddumbfounded.‘Oh!Oh!’sheexclaimed.‘Ican’tbelieveit!Whatwickedness!We’vealwaystreatedhimlikeoneofthefamily.AndtheBeeswaxandeverything–’Sheturnedabruptly,andwasabouttoleavewhenRichardenteredandheldthedooropenforher.Asshealmostranfromtheroom,hernieceBarbaraenteredfromthegarden.
‘Thisissimplytooshatteringforwords,’Barbaraexclaimed.‘EdwardRaynor,ofallpeople.Whowouldhavebelievedit?Somebodyhasbeenfrightfullyclevertohavefoundout.Iwonderwho!’
ShelookedmeaningfullyatPoirotwho,however,gaveabowinthedirectionofthepoliceinspectorashemurmured,‘ItwasInspectorJappwhosolvedthecase,mademoiselle.’
Jappbeamed.‘Iwillsayforyou,MonsieurPoirot,you’rethegoods.Andagentlemanaswell.’Withanodtotheassembledcompany,Jappmadeabriskexit,snatchingthewhiskyglassfromabemusedHastingsashedidso,withthewords,‘I’lltakechargeoftheevidence,ifyouplease,CaptainHastings!’
‘Yes,butwasitreallyInspectorJappwhofoundoutwhokilledUncleClaud?Or,’BarbaraaskedPoirotcoylyassheapproachedhim,‘wasityou,MonsieurHerculePoirot?’
PoirotmovedtoHastings,puttinganarmaroundhisoldfriend.‘Mademoiselle,’heinformedBarbara,‘therealcreditbelongstoHastingshere.Hemadearemarkofsurpassingbrilliancewhichputmeontherighttrack.Takehimintothegardenandmakehimtellyouaboutit.’
HepushedHastingstowardsBarbaraandshepherdedthembothtowardsthefrenchwindows.‘Ah,mypet,’BarbarasighedcomicallytoHastingsastheywentoutintothegarden.
RichardAmorywasabouttoaddressPoirot,whenthedoortothehallopenedandLuciaentered.Givingastartwhenshesawherhusband,Luciamurmureduncertainly,‘Richard–’
Richardturnedtolookather.‘Lucia!’
Luciamovedafewstepsintotheroom.‘I–,’shebegan,andthenbrokeoff
Richardapproachedher,andthenstopped.‘You–’
Theybothlookedextremelynervous,andillateasewitheachother.ThenLuciasuddenlycaughtsightofPoirotandwenttohimwithoutstretchedhands.‘MonsieurPoirot!Howcanweeverthankyou?’
Poirottookbothherhandsinhis.‘So,madame,yourtroublesareover!’heannounced.
‘Amurdererhasbeencaught.Butmytroubles,aretheyreallyover?’Luciaaskedwistfully.
‘Itistruethatyoudonotlookquitehappyyet,mychild,’Poirotobserved
‘ShallIeverbehappyagain,Iwonder?’
‘Ithinkso,’saidPoirotwithatwinkleinhiseye.‘TrustinyouroldPoirot.’GuidingLuciatothechairbythetableinthecentreoftheroom,hepickedupthespillsfromthecoffeetable,wentacrosstoRichard,andhandedthemtohim.‘Monsieur,’hedeclared,‘IhavepleasureinrestoringtoyouSirClaud’sformula!Itcanbepiecedtogether–whatistheexpressionyouuse?–itwillbeasgoodasnew.’
‘MyGod,theformula!’Richardexclaimed.‘I’dalmostforgottenit.Icanhardlybeartolookatitagain.Thinkwhatithasdonetousall.It’scostmyfatherhislife,andit’sallbutruinedthelivesofallofusaswell.’
‘Whatareyougoingtodowithit,Richard?’Luciaaskedhim.
‘Idon’tknow.Whatwouldyoudowithit?’
Risingandmovingtohim,Luciawhispered,‘Wouldyouletme?’
‘It’syours,’herhusbandtoldher,handingherthespills.‘Doasyoulikewiththewretchedthing.’
‘Thankyou,Richard,’murmuredLucia.Shewenttothefireplace,tookamatchfromtheboxonthemantelpiece,andsetfiretothespills,droppingthepiecesonebyoneintothefireplace.‘Thereissomuchsufferingalreadyintheworld.Icannotbeartothinkofanymore.’
‘Madame,’saidPoirot,‘Iadmirethemannerinwhichyouburnmanythousandsofpoundswithaslittleemotionasthoughtheywerejustafewpence.’
‘Theyarenothingbutashes,’Luciasighed.‘Likemylife.’
Poirotgaveasnort.‘Oh,là,là!Letusallorderourcoffins,’heremarkedinatoneofmockgloom.‘No!Me,Iliketobehappy,torejoice,todance,tosing.Seeyou,mychildren,’hecontinued,turningtoaddressRichardaswell,‘Iamabouttotakealibertywithyouboth.Madamelooksdownhernoseandthinks,“Ihavedeceivedmyhusband.”Monsieurlooksdownhisnoseandthinks,“Ihavesuspectedmywife.”Andyetwhatyoureallywant,bothofyou,istobeineachother’sarms,isitnot?’
Luciatookasteptowardsherhusband.‘Richard–’shebeganinalowvoice
‘Madame,’Poirotinterruptedher,‘IfearthatSirClaudmayhavesuspectedyouofplanningtostealhisformulabecause,afewweeksago,someone–nodoubtanex-colleagueofCarelli,forpeopleofthatkindarecontinuallyfallingoutwithoneanother–someone,Isay,sentSirClaudananonymousletteraboutyourmother.But,doyouknow,myfoolishchild,thatyourhusbandtriedtoaccusehimselftoInspectorJapp–thatheactuallyconfessedtothemurderofSirClaud–inordertosaveyou?’
Luciagavealittlecry,andlookedadoringlyatRichard.
‘Andyou,monsieur,’Poirotcontinued.‘Figuretoyourselfthat,notmorethanhalfanhourago,yourwifewasshoutinginmyearthatshehadkilledyourfather,allbecauseshefearedthatyoumighthavedoneso.’
‘Lucia,’Richardmurmuredtenderly,goingtoher.
‘BeingEnglish,’Poirotremarkedashemovedawayfromthem,‘youwillnotembraceinmypresence,Isuppose?’
Luciawenttohim,andtookhishand.‘MonsieurPoirot,IdonotthinkIshalleverforgetyou–ever.’
‘NeithershallIforgetyou,madame,’Poirotdeclaredgallantlyashekissedherhand.
‘Poirot,’RichardAmorydeclared,‘Idon’tknowwhattosay,exceptthatyou’vesavedmylifeandmymarriage.Ican’texpresswhatIfeel–’
‘Donotderangeyourself,myfriend,’repliedPoirot.‘Iamhappytohavebeenofservicetoyou.’
LuciaandRichardwentoutintothegardentogether,lookingintoeachother’seyes,hisarmaroundhershoulders.Followingthemtothewindow,Poirotcalledafterthem,‘Blessyou,mesenfants!Oh,andifyouencounterMissBarbarainthegarden,pleaseaskhertoreturnCaptainHastingstome.WemustshortlybeginourjourneytoLondon.’Turningbackintotheroom,hisglancefellonthefireplace.
‘Ah!’heexclaimedashewenttothemantelpieceoverthefireplaceandstraightenedthespillvase.‘Voilà!Now,orderandneatnessarerestored.’Withthat,Poirotwalkedtowardsthedoorwithanairofimmensesatisfaction
E-BookExtrasThePoirotsEssaybyCharlesOsborne
ThePoirots
TheMysteriousAffairatStyles;TheMurderontheLinks;PoirotInvestigates;TheMurderofRogerAckroyd;TheBigFour;TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain;BlackCoffee;PerilatEndHouse;LordEdgwareDies;MurderontheOrientExpress;Three-ActTragedy;DeathintheClouds;TheABCMurders;MurderinMesopotamia;CardsontheTable;MurderintheMews;DumbWitness;DeathontheNile;AppointmentwithDeath;HerculePoirot’sChristmas;SadCypress;One,Two,BuckleMyShoe;EvilUndertheSun;FiveLittlePigs;TheHollow;TheLaboursofHercules;TakenattheFlood;MrsMcGinty’sDead;AftertheFuneral;HickoryDickoryDock;DeadMan’sFolly;CatAmongthePigeons;TheAdventureoftheChristmasPudding;TheClocks;ThirdGirl;Hallowe’enParty;ElephantsCanRemember;Poirot’sEarlyCases;Curtain:Poirot’sLastCase
1.TheMysteriousAffairatStyles(1920)
CaptainArthurHastings,invalidedintheGreatWar,isrecuperatingasaguestofJohnCavendishatStylesCourt,the‘country-place’ofJohn’sautocraticoldaunt,EmilyInglethorpe—sheofasizeablefortune,andsorecentlyremarriedtoamantwentyyearsherjunior.WhenEmily’ssuddenheartattackisfoundtobeattributabletostrychnine,Hastingsrecruitsanoldfriend,nowretired,toaidinthelocalinvestigation.Withimpeccabletiming,HerculePoirot,therenownedBelgiandetective,makeshisdramaticentranceintothepagesofcrimeliterature.
Ofnote:Writtenin1916,TheMysteriousAffairatStyleswasAgathaChristie’sfirstpublishedwork.Sixhousesrejectedthenovelbeforeitwasfinallypublished—afterpuzzlingoveritforeighteenmonthsbeforedecidingtogoahead—byTheBodleyHead.
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Almosttooingenious…veryclearlyandbrightlytold.’
2.TheMurderontheLinks(1923)
“ForGod’ssake,come!”ButbythetimeHerculePoirotcanrespondtoMonsieurRenauld’splea,themillionaireisalreadydead—stabbedintheback,andlyinginafreshlyduggraveonthegolfcourseadjoininghisestate.Thereisnolackofsuspects:hiswife,whosedaggerdidthedeed;hisembitteredson;Renauld’smistress—andeachfeelsdeservingofthedeadman’sfortune.Thepolicethinkthey’vefoundtheculprit.Poirothashisdoubts.Andthediscoveryofasecond,identicallymurderedcorpsecomplicatesmattersconsiderably.(However,onabrightnote,CaptainArthurHastingsdoesmeethisfuturewife.)
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Aremarkablygooddetectivestory…warmlyrecommended.’
LiteraryReview:‘Reallyclever.’
Sketch:‘AgathaChristieneverletsyoudown.’
3.PoirotInvestigates(1924)
Amoviestar,adiamond;amurderous‘suicide’;apharaoh’scurseuponhistomb;aprimeministerabducted…Whatlinksthesefascinatingcases?ThebrilliantdeductivepowersofHerculePoirotin…‘TheAdventureoftheWesternStar’;‘TheTragedyatMarsdonManor’;‘TheAdventureoftheCheapFlat’;‘TheMysteryoftheHunter’sLodge’;‘TheMillionDollarBondRobbery’;‘TheAdventureoftheEgyptianTomb’;‘TheJewelRobberyattheGrandMetropolitan’;‘TheKidnappedPrimeMinister’;‘TheDisappearanceofMr.Davenheim’;‘TheAdventureoftheItalianNobleman’;‘TheCaseoftheMissingWill.’
Ofnote:ThestoriescollectedherewerefirstpublishedinSketch,beginningonMarch7,1923.Sketchalsofeaturedthefirstillustrationofthefoppish,egg-headed,elaboratelymoustachioedBelgiandetective.
LiteraryReview:‘Acapitalcollection…ingeniouslyconstructedandtoldwithanengaginglightnessofstyle.’
IrishTimes:‘Instraightdetectivefictionthereisstillnoonetotouch[Christie].’
4.TheMurderofRogerAckroyd(1926)
InthequietvillageofKing’sAbbotawidow’ssuicidehasstirredsuspicion—anddreadfulgossip.Therearerumoursthatshemurderedherfirsthusband,thatshewasbeingblackmailed,andthathersecretloverwasRogerAckroyd.Then,onthevergeofdiscoveringtheblackmailer’sidentity,Ackroydhimselfismurdered.HerculePoirot,whohassettledinKing’sAbbotforsomepeaceandquietandalittlegardening,findshimselfatthecentreofthecase—andupagainstadiabolicallycleveranddeviouskiller.
Ofnote:TheMurderofRogerAckroydbrokealltherulesofdetectivefictionandmadeAgathaChristieahouseholdname.Widelyregardedashermasterpiece(thoughperhapsitmaybecalledher‘Poirotmasterpiece’sinceothertitlesinhercanon—notablyAndThenThereWereNone—aresimilarlyacclaimed),TheMurderofRogerAckroydwasthesourceofsomecontroversywhenitwaspublished.TheTimesLiterarySupplement’spraiseofthefirstPoirot,TheMysteriousAffairatStyles,‘almosttooingenious,’wasappliedbyscoresofreaderstoAckroyd,whowerenonethelessenrapturedbythenovel,andhaveremainedsooverthedecades.
Fairwarning:Therearetwothingsyoumustdoifyouknownothingofthebook:discussitwithnoone,andreaditwithallspeed.
H.R.F.Keating:‘Oneofthelandmarksofdetectiveliterature’(inhisCrime&Mystery:The100BestBooks).
JulianSymons:‘Themostbrilliantofdeceptions’(inhisBloodyMurder:FromtheDetectiveStorytotheCrimeNovel).
IrishIndependent:‘Aclassic—thebookhasworthilyearneditsfame.’
5.TheBigFour(1927)
HerculePoirotispreparingforavoyagetoSouthAmerica.Loominginthedoorwayofhisbedroomisanuninvitedguest,coatedfromheadtofootindustandmud.Theman’sgauntfaceregistersPoirotforamoment,andthenhecollapses.ThestrangerrecoverslongenoughtoidentifyPoirotbynameandmadlyandrepeatedlyscribblethefigure‘4’onapieceofpaper.Poirotcancelshistrip.Aninvestigationisinorder.Fortunately,PoirothasthefaithfulCaptainHastingsathissideasheplungesintoaconspiracyofinternationalscope—onethatwouldconsolidatepowerinthedeadlycabalknownas‘TheBigFour.’
6.TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain(1928)
LeTrainBleuisanelegant,leisurelymeansoftravel,andonecertainlyfreeofintrigue.HerculePoirotisaboard,boundfortheRiviera.AndsoisRuthKettering,theAmericanheiress.Bailingoutofadoomedmarriage,sheisenroutetoreconcilewithherformerlover.Butherprivateaffairsaremadequitepublicwhensheisfoundmurderedinherluxurycompartment—bludgeonedalmostbeyondrecognition.FansofthelaternovelMurderontheOrientExpresswillnotwanttomissthisjourneybyrail—andPoirot’seeriereenactmentofthecrime…
7.BlackCoffee(1930;1998)
SirClaudAmory’sformulaforapowerfulnewexplosivehasbeenstolen,presumablybyamemberofhislargehousehold.SirClaudassembleshissuspectsinthelibraryandlocksthedoor,instructingthemthatthewhenthelightsgoout,theformulamustbereplacedonthetable—andnoquestionswillbeasked.Butwhenthelightscomeon,SirClaudisdead.NowHerculePoirot,assistedbyCaptainHastingsandInspectorJapp,mustunravelatangleoffamilyfeuds,oldflames,andsuspiciousforeignerstofindthekillerandpreventaglobalcatastrophe.
Ofnote:BlackCoffeewasAgathaChristie’sfirstplayscript,writtenin1929.Itpremieredin1930attheEmbassyTheatreinSwissCottage,London,beforetransferringthefollowingyeartoStMartin’sintheWestEnd—atheatremadefamousbyvirtueofitsbecomingthepermanenthomeofthelongest-runningplayinhistory,AgathaChristie’sTheMousetrap.AgathaChristie’sbiographer,CharlesOsborne,who,asayoungactorin1956hadplayedDrCarelliinaTunbridgeWellsproductionofBlackCoffee,adaptedtheplayasthisnovelin1998.
AntoniaFraser,SundayTelegraph:‘Alivelyandlight-heartedreadwhichwillgivepleasuretoallthosewhohavelongwishedthattherewasjustonemoreChristietodevour.’
MathewPrichard,fromhisForewordtoBlackCoffee:‘ThisHerculePoirotmurdermystery…readslikeauthentic,vintageChristie.IfeelsureAgathawouldbeproudtohavewrittenit.’
8.PerilatEndHouse(1932)
Nickisanunusualnameforaprettyyoungwoman.AndNickBuckleyhasbeenleadinganunusuallifeoflate.First,onatreacherousCornishhillside,thebrakesonhercarfail.Then,onacoastalpath,afallingbouldermissesherbyinches.Safeinbed,sheisalmostcrushedbyapainting.UpondiscoveringabulletholeinNick’ssunhat,HerculePoirot(whohadcometoCornwallforasimpleholidaywithhisfriendCaptainHastings)decidesthatthegirlneedshisprotection.Atthesametime,hebeginstounravelthemysteryofamurderthathasn’tbeencommitted.Yet.
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Ingenious.’
9.LordEdgwareDies(1933)
PoirotwaspresentwhenthebeautifulactressJaneWilkinsonbraggedofherplanto‘getridof’herestrangedhusband.Nowthemonstrousmanisdead.ButhowcouldJanehavestabbedLordEdgwareinhislibraryatexactlythetimeshewasdiningwithfriends?Andwhatcouldhavebeenhermotive,sinceEdgwarehadfinallygrantedheradivorce?ThegreatBelgiandetective,aidedbyCaptainHastings,can’thelpfeelingthatsomekindofheinousstagecraftisinplay.Anddoesmoremurderwaitinthewings?
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Amostingeniouscrimepuzzle.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘ThewholecaseisatriumphofPoirot’sspecialqualities.’
NotedcrimefictioncriticJulianSymonsselectedLordEdgwareDiesasoneofAgathaChristie’sbest.
10.MurderontheOrientExpress(1934)
Justaftermidnight,asnowstormstopstheOrientExpressdeadinitstracksinthemiddleofYugoslavia.Theluxurioustrainissurprisinglyfullforthistimeofyear.Butbymorningthereisonepassengerless.A‘respectableAmericangentleman’liesdeadinhiscompartment,stabbedadozentimes,hisdoorlockedfromtheinside…HerculePoirotisalsoaboard,havingarrivedinthenickoftimetoclaimasecond-classcompartment—andthemostastoundingcaseofhisillustriouscareer.
Regardingchronology:AgathaChristieseemsnotmuchconcernedinthecourseofherbookswiththeirrelationshiptoeachother.ItiswhytheMarplesandthePoirotsmaybereadyinanyorder,really,withpleasure.However,thededicatedPoirotistmaywishtonotethatthegreatdetectiveisreturningfrom‘AlittleaffairinSyria’atthestartMurderontheOrientExpress.Itisapieceofbusinessafterthis‘littleaffair’—theinvestigationintothedeathofanarchaeologist’swife—thatisthesubjectofMurderinMesopotamia(1936).IfonewishestodelayatadlongerthepleasuresofOrientExpress,MurderinMesopotamiaoffersnobetteropportunity.
Fairwarning:Alongtheselines,itisadvisablethatonenotreadCardsontheTable(1936)priortoOrientExpress,sincePoirothimselfcasuallygivesawaytheendingtothelatternovel.
Ofnote:MurderontheOrientExpressisoneofAgathaChristie’smostfamousnovels,owingnodoubttoacombinationofitsromanticsettingandtheingeniousnessofitsplot;itsnon-exploitativereferencetothesensationalkidnappingandmurderoftheinfantsonofCharlesandAnneMorrowLindberghonlytwoyearsprior;andapopular1974filmadaptation,starringAlbertFinneyasPoirot—oneofthefewcinematicversionsofaChristieworkthatmetwiththeapproval,howevermild,oftheauthorherself.
DorothyL.Sayers,SundayTimes:‘Amurdermysteryconceivedandcarriedoutonthefinestclassicallines.’
SaturdayReviewofLiterature:‘Hardtosurpass.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Needitbesaid—thelittlegreycellssolveoncemoretheseeminglyinsoluble.MrsChristiemakesanimprobabletaleveryreal,andkeepsherreadersenthralledandguessingtotheend.’
11.Three-ActTragedy(1935)
Thenovelopensasatheatreprogramme,withthistellingcredit:‘IlluminationbyHERCULEPOIROT.’Lightmustbeshed,indeed,onthefatefuldinnerpartystagedbythefamousactorSirCharlesCartwrightforthirteenguests.Itwillbeaparticularlyunluckyeveningforthemild-manneredReverendStephenBabbington,whosemartiniglass,sentforchemicalanalysisafterhechokesonitscontentsanddies,revealsnotraceofpoison.Justasthereisnoapparentmotiveforhismurder.Thefirstsceneinasuccessionofcarefullystagedkillings,butwhoisthedirector?
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Makesforuncommonlygoodreading.’
12.DeathintheClouds(1935)
FromseatNo.9,HerculePoirotisalmostideallyplacedtoobservehisfellowairtravelersonthisshortflightfromParistoLondon.Overtohisrightsitsaprettyyoungwoman,clearlyinfatuatedwiththemanopposite.Ahead,inseatNo.13,istheCountessofHorbury,horriblyaddictedtococaineandnotdoingtoogoodajobofconcealingit.AcrossthegangwayinseatNo.8,awriterofdetectivefictionisbeingtroubledbyanaggressivewasp.Yes,Poirotisalmostideallyplacedtotakeitallin—exceptthatthepassengerintheseatdirectlybehindhimhasslumpedoverinthecourseoftheflight…dead.Murdered.BysomeoneinPoirot’simmediateproximity.AndPoirothimselfmustnumberamongthesuspects.
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Itwillbeaveryacutereaderwhodoesnotreceiveacompletesurpriseattheend.’
13.TheABCMurders(1936)
CaptainArthurHastingsreturnstonarratethisaccountofapersonalchallengemadeto‘MrCleverPoirot’byakillerwhoidentifieshimselfas‘ABC’andwholeavestheABCRailGuidenexttohisvictims—apparentlyintendingtoworkthroughtheEnglishcountryside(hehasstruckinAndover,Bexhill-on-Sea,andChurston)andexercisePoirotalongtheway.SerializedinLondon’sDailyExpress,TheABCMurdersbecameaculturalphenomenonasreaderswereinvitedtotrytokeepupwiththefamousBelgiandetective.Itisachallengethatremainsfreshandthrillingtothisday—andmakesTheABCMurdersoneoftheabsolutemust-readsoftheChristiecanon.
JulianSymons:‘Amasterworkofcarefullyconcealedartifice…moststunninglyoriginal.’
SundayTimes:‘ThereisnomorecunningplayerofthemurdergamethanAgathaChristie.’
14.MurderinMesopotamia(1936)
NurseAmyLeatheranhadneverfeltthelureofthe‘mysteriousEast,’butshenonethelessacceptsanassignmentatHassanieh,anancientsitedeepintheIraqidesert,tocareforthewifeofacelebratedarchaeologist.MrsLeidnerissufferingbizarrevisionsandnervousterror.‘I’mafraidofbeingkilled!’sheadmitstohernurse.Herterror,unfortunately,isanythingbutunfounded,andNurseLeatheranissoonenoughwithoutapatient.Theworld’sgreatestdetectivehappenstobeinthevicinity,however:havingconcludedanassignmentinSyria,andcuriousaboutthedigatHassanieh,HerculePoirotarrivesintimetoleadamurderinvestigationthatwilltaxevenhisremarkablepowers—andinapartoftheworldthathasseenmorethanitsshareofmisadventureandfoulplay.
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Smooth,highlyoriginal,andcompletelyabsorbing.’
15.CardsontheTable(1936)
‘Thededuction,’AgathaChristiewritesinherForewordtothisvolume,‘must…beentirelypsychological…becausewhenallissaidanddoneitisthemindofthemurdererthatisofsupremeinterest.’ThereisprobablynoneaterencapsulationofwhatmakesAgathaChristie’sworkssofresh,sofascinating,somanyyearsaftertheywerewritten.AndthisstatementappropriatelyopensthenovelthatisregardedasAgathaChristie’smostsingularlychallengingmystery—itis,infact,HerculePoirot’sownfavouritecase.
PoirotisoneofeightdinnerguestsoftheflamboyantMrShaitana.TheotherinviteesareSuperintendentBattleofScotlandYard(introducedinTheSecretofChimneys);SecretServiceagentColonelRace(whofirstappearedinTheManintheBrownSuit);MrsAriadneOliver,afamousauthorofdetectivestories(introducedinParkerPyneInvestigatesandwhowillfigureinfivemorePoirots)—andfoursuspectedmurderers.Afterdinner,therewillbeafewroundsofbridge:thefourinvestigatorsplayingatonetable;thefourmurdersuspectsatanother.MrShaitanawillsitbythefireandobserve.Thishedoes—untilheisstabbedtodeath.Theultimate‘closed-roommurdermystery’awaitstheintrepidreader.Whoisthemurderer?Andwhowillsolvethecrime?
Fairwarning:PoirotcasuallyrevealsthesolutiontoMurderontheOrientExpressinCardsontheTable
DailyMail:‘Thefinestmurderstoryofhercareer…MrsChristiehasneverbeenmoreingenious.’
16.MurderintheMews(1937)
Inthetitleworkinthiscollectionofnovellas,PoirotandInspectorJappcollaborateontheinvestigationofasuspicioussuicide.ThesupernaturalissaidtoplayinthedisappearanceoftopsecretmilitaryplansinTheIncredibleTheft—anincredibleclaim,indeed,asPoirotwillprove.ThebulletthatkillsGervaseChevenix-GoreshattersamirrorinDeadMan’sMirror—justthecluePoirotneedstosolvethecrime.And,whilebaskingonwhiteMediterraneansands,Poirotstarestroubleintheface—thebeautifulfaceofValentineChantry,nowcelebratingherfifthmarriage—inTriangleatRhodes
DailyMail:‘Allfourtalesareadmirableentertainment…MrsChristie’ssolutionsareunexpectedandsatisfying.’
17.DumbWitness(1937)
AgathaChristiewrotethismysteryfordoglovers.Shewascertainlyoneherself,dedicatingthenoveltoherownpet.CaptainArthurHastings,inhispenultimatePoirotappearance(likePoirot,Curtainwillbehislast),againtakesupnarrativeduties—alongwith,remarkably,theeponymousBob,awire-hairedterrierwho,uponcarefulinspection,declaresPoirot‘notreallyadoggyperson.’ButPoirotispresenttoinquireintothenatural-seemingdeathofBob’smistress,MissEmilyArundell.Natural-seeming,exceptthatMissEmilyhadwrittenPoirotofhersuspicionsthatamemberofherfamilywastryingtokillher:aletterPoirotreceivedtoolate—infact,twomonthstoolate—tohelp.PoirotandBobwillsniffoutthemurderernonetheless(andBobwillwinahappynewhome,withCaptainHastingswhois,mostdecidedly,a‘doggyperson’).
Fairwarning:DumbWitnessisbestreadafterTheMysteriousAffairatStyles;TheMurderofRogerAckroyd;TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain;andDeathintheClouds—sincetheidentityofthecriminalineachisrevealedinthisnovel.
GlasgowHerald:‘OneofPoirot’smostbrilliantachievements.’
18.DeathontheNile(1937)
Amongthebest-lovedofAgathaChristie’snovels,DeathontheNilefindsHerculePoirotagaintryingtoenjoyavacation—thistimeaboardtheS.S.Karnak,steamingbetweentheFirstandSecondCataractsoftheNile,withstopsatsitesofarchaeologicalsignificance.ButPoirot(who,afterall,hadattemptedtoretireyearsbefore)seemstobeperenniallyunluckyinhischoiceofholidays.NewlywedLinnetRidgewayis,inthecourseofthejourney,shotdeadinthehead,andPoirothasbeforehimaboatloadofsuspects—andausefulsidekickinColonelRaceoftheBritishSecretService.
Ofnote:TheproducersofMurderontheOrientExpressreleasedafilmversion,alsowellreceived(thoughnotbyMrsChristie,whohadpassedawaytwoyearsprior),ofDeathontheNile(1978),thistimecastingPeterUstinovasPoirot.
DailyMail(ofthenovel):‘Flawless.’
19.AppointmentwithDeath(1938)
‘“I’msosorry,”shesaid…“Yourmotherisdead,MrBoynton.”Andcuriously,asthoughfromagreatdistance,shewatchedthefacesoffivepeopletowhomthatannouncementmeantfreedom…’
WehavereturnedtotheMiddleEastwithHerculePoirot,onourmostcolourfultouryet:totheDomeoftheRock,theJudeandesert,theDeadSea,andtoPetra,‘therose-redcity,’thatancientplaceofheart-stoppingbeauty—butalsoofheart-stoppinghorror,forheresitsthecorpseofoldMrsBoynton,monstrousmatriarch,loathedbyoneandall.Atinypuncturemarkonherwrististheonlysignofthefatalinjectionthatkilledher.Withonlytwenty-fourhoursavailabletosolvethemystery,HerculePoirotrecallsachanceremarkhe’doverheardbackinJerusalem:‘Yousee,don’tyou,thatshe’sgottobekilled?’
TheObserver:‘TwiceasbrilliantasDeathontheNile,whichwasentirelybrilliant.’
20.HerculePoirot’sChristmas(1938)
Thisnovelwastheauthor’sgifttoherbrother-in-law,whohadcomplainedthatherstorieswere,forhim,‘tooacademic.’Whathedesiredwasa‘goodviolentmurderwithlotsofblood.’Fromtheepigraph—aquotationfromMacbeth—toitsstartlingend,Agathadeliveredagiftmadetoorder.
ItisChristmasEve.TheLeefamilyreunion,neveralivelyaffair,isinterruptedbyadeafeningcrashandahigh-pitchedscream.ThetyrannicalheadoftheLeefamily,Simeon,liesdeadinapoolofblood,histhroatslashed.HerculePoirotisspendingtheholidayswithhisfriendColonelJohnson,thechiefconstableofthelocalvillage.AttheLeehousehefindsanatmospherenotofmourningbutofmutualsuspicion.Christmaswithfamily—surviveitthisyearwithHerculePoirot.
Fairwarning:InanexchangebetweenPoirotandColonelJohnson,thesolutionofThree-ActTragedyisrevealed.
21.SadCypress(1940)
Beautiful,youngElinorCarlislestandsserenelyinthedock,accusedofthemurderofMaryGerrard,herrivalinlove.Theevidenceisdamning:onlyElinorhadthemotive,theopportunity,andthemeanstoadministerthefatalpoison.Insidethehostilecourtroom,onemanisallthatstandsbetweenElinorandthegallows—HerculePoirot.
DailyMail:‘Poirotsolvesanotherexcitingcase.’
CharlesOsborne,AgathaChristie’biographer:‘Oneofthemostreal,leastschematicofcrimenovels.Itisalsounusualinthatitemploysthedeviceofthepossiblemiscarriageofjustice…Anditworkssuperblyasamurdermystery.’
22.One,Two,BuckleMyShoe(1940)
‘Nineteen,twenty,myplate’sempty.’Butthereader’splateisfullindeed,asHerculePoirotmustfollowafamiliarnurseryrhymethroughacourseofmurder.TheadventureiskickedoffbytheapparentsuicideofaHarleyStreetdentist—whowouldalsoappeartohavemurderedoneofhispatients.HerculePoirothashimselfbeenthisdentist’spatientonthisveryday,andsuspectsfoulplay.Ashoebuckleholdsthekeytothemystery.But—five,six—willPoirotpickupsticks,and—seven,eight—laythemstraight…beforeamurderercanstrikeagain?
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Aswiftcourseofunflaggingsuspenseleadstocompletesurprise.’
23.EvilUndertheSun(1941)
‘Therewasthataboutherwhichmadeeveryotherwomanonthebeachseemfadedandinsignificant.Andwithequalinevitability,theeyeofeverymalepresentwasdrawnandrivetedonher.’
IncludingHerculePoirot’s.SheisArlenaStuart,thefamousactress,enjoying—likethefamousdetective—asummerholidayonSmugglers’Island,andshewillbecomeacommonenoughsight,sunbathingonthehotsands.Thenoneazuremorningherbeautifulbronzedbodyisdiscoveredinanisolatedcove,intheshade.Sheisdead,strangled.AndPoirot,aslucklessaseverwhenheattemptssomedown-time,willlearninthecourseofhisinvestigationthatnearlyalltheguestsofthisexclusiveresorthavesomeconnectiontoArlena.Butwhohadthecapacityandthemotivetokillher?
Ofnote:TheproducersofMurderontheOrientExpressandDeathontheNilereleasedafilmversionofEvilUndertheSunin1982;again,asinNile,theycastPeterUstinovasPoirot.
DailyTelegraph:‘ChristiehasneverwrittenanythingbetterthanEvilUndertheSun,whichisdetectivestorywritingatitsbest.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Christiespringshersecretlikealandmine.’
SundayTimes:‘Vivaciousandentertaining.’
24.FiveLittlePigs(1943)
Astaggeringbestselleruponitspublication—runningthrough20,000copiesofitsfirstedition—FiveLittlePigs(publishedintheU.S.asMurderinRetrospect)concernsamurdercommittedsixteenyearsearlier.CarlaCraleprevailsuponHerculePoirottoinvestigatethecrimethatsenthermother,Caroline,toprisonforlife(whereshedied).Carolinehadbeenfoundguiltyofpoisoningherestrangedhusband,Carla’sfather,AmyasCrale,thefamousartist.Poirot’sinvestigationcentersuponfivesuspects,stillliving,whomheconvincestospeaktohimandtorecordtheirownmemoriesofthelong-agoincident.
Brilliantlyintersplicingthepastandthepresent,memoryandreality,thesearchfortruthandongoingattemptstothwartit,FiveLittlePigshasnoantecedent.AlmostadecadebeforeAkiraKurosawa’sfamousfilmintroducedtheterm“Rashomoneffect”intothevernacular,AgathaChristieinvitedherreaderstoviewacrimefrommultipleperspectivesandtoconsiderthevagariesofsuchanexercise.Fortunately,however,thegreatBelgiandetectivedoesnotdealinvagaries—HerculePoirotisinthebusinessofprecision,andhewillrevealtheidentityofthetruekiller.
Observer:‘MrsChristieasusualputsaringthroughthereader’snoseandleadshimtooneofhersmashinglast-minuteshowdowns.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Theanswertotheriddleisbrilliant.’
25.TheHollow(1946)
AmurdertableaustagedforPoirot’s‘amusement’goeshorriblywrongatTheHollow,theestateofLadyLucyAngkatell,whohasinvitedthegreatdetectiveasherguestofhonour.DrJohnChristowwastohavebeen‘shot’byhiswife,Gerda,to‘expire’inapoolofblood-redpaint.Butwhentheshotisfired,itisdeadly,andDr.Christow’slastgaspisofanameotherthanhiswife’s:‘Henrietta.’WhatwastohavebeenapleasantcountryweekendbecomesinsteadoneofPoirot’smostbafflingcases,withtherevelationofacomplexwebofromanticattachmentsamongthedenizensofTheHollow.
Ofnote:ThephenomenonofTheMousetraptendstodistractfromAgathaChristie’sotherstagesuccesses.AnadaptationofTheHollowwasonesuchtriumph,premieringinCambridgein1951andsubsequentlyplayingforoverayearintheWestEnd.Poirot,however,isnotacharacterinthestageversion—thediminutiveBelgianwiththeoversizedpersonalitywasreplacedbyaperfectlyneutralScotlandYardinspector.InherAutobiography,MrsChristienotesthatshewishesshehadmadeasimilarswapinthenovel—soricharethecharactersinTheHollow—butPoirotfansthen(TheHollowwasatremendousbestseller)andtodaywouldhaveitnootherway.
SanFranciscoChronicle(ofthenovel):‘Agrade-Aplot—thebestChristieinyears.’
26.TheLaboursofHercules(1967)
DrBurton,FellowofAllSouls,sippingPoirot’sChateauMoutonRothschild,offersuparatherunkindremarkabouthishostthatsetsinmotionHerculePoirot’sobsessive,self-imposedcontestagainsthisclassicalnamesake:Poirotwillaccepttwelvelabours—twelvefiendishlycomplexcases—andthen,atlonglast,genuinelyunshouldertheburdensofthehero:hewillretire,andleavetheriddingofsociety’smonsters,thesweepingofitscriminalstables,toothers.ThecasesthatPoirotengagesareeverybitastaxingofhismightybrainaswerethefamouslaboursimposedbyEurystheus,KingofTiryns,ontheGreekdemi-god’sbrawn,andtheymakeforoneofthemostfascinatingbooksintheChristiecanon.(Poirotsolvesthemallbut,ofcourse,retirementremainsaselusiveasever.)
SundayExpress:‘Twelvelittlemasterpiecesofdetection.PoirotandAgathaChristieattheirinimitablebest.’
MargeryAllingham:‘IhaveoftenthoughtthatMrsChristiewasnotsomuchthebestastheonlylivingwriterofthetrueclassicdetectivestory.’
SanFranciscoChronicle:‘Afinelyshapedbook,richlydeviousandquitebrilliant.’
27.TakenattheFlood(1948)
Afewweeksaftermarryinganattractiveyoungwidow,RosaleenUnderhay,GordonCloadediesintheBlitz—leavingRosaleeninsolepossessionoftheCloadefamilyfortune.‘Illwill’isintheair,generally,withthecloseofthewar,anditpositivelycontaminatestheCloadehousehold.NowthatcontaminationthreatensPoirot—intheformofavisitfromthedeadman’ssister-in-law.‘Guided’toPoirot‘bythosebeyondtheveil,’sheinsiststhatRosaleenisnotawidowatall.Thoughheisnosubscribertothesupernatural,PoirothasindeedheardofthesomewhatnotoriousRosaleen,andheisdrawn,seeminglyinevitably,tothecasewhenhereadsofthedeathofoneEnochArden—whohadappearedmysteriouslyinthevillageofWarmsleyVale,notfarfromtheCloadefamilyseat.Poirotmustinvestigate—butdoeshegotoWarmsleyValetobringRosaleentojustice,ortospareherbeingdispatchedprematurelyto‘theotherside’?
Ofnote:TakenattheFloodmarksthedebutofSuperintendentSpence,aPoirotsidekickwhowillfeatureinthreemorePoirotnovels.
ElizabethBowen,TheTatler:‘Oneofthebest…Hergiftforblendingthecosywiththemacabrehasseldombeenmoreinevidencethanitishere.’
ManchesterEveningNews:‘Toldbriskly,vivaciously,andwithever-fertileimagination.’
NewYorkHeraldTribune:‘Don’tmissit.’
28.MrsMcGinty’sDead(1952)
‘MrsMcGinty’sdead!’/‘Howdidshedie?’/‘Downononeknee,justlikeI!’Sogoestheoldchildren’srhyme.Acrushingblowtothebackoftheheadkillsareal-lifeMrsMcGintyinhercottageinthevillageofBroadhinny—SuperintendentSpence’sjurisdiction.Thenthekillertoreupthefloorboardsinsearchof…what?Justicepresumesapittanceofcash;andjusticehascondemnedJamesBentley,herloathsomelodger,tohangforthecrime.ButSuperintendentSpenceisnotsatisfiedwiththeverdict,andappealstoPoirottoinvestigate—andsavethelifeofthewretchBentley.
Ofnote:CrimenovelistAriadneOliver,ofCardsontheTable,returnstohelpPoirotandSpencesolvethecrime.
SundayTimes:‘Sosimple,soeconomical,socompletelybaffling.Eachcluescrupulouslygiven,withsuperbsleightofhand.’
SanFranciscoChronicle:‘Theplotisperfectandthecharactersarewonderful.’
TheNewYorkTimes:‘ThebestPoirotsince…CardsontheTable.’
29.AftertheFuneral(1953)
MrsCoraLansquenetadmitsto‘alwayssayingthewrongthing’—butthislastremarkhasgottenherahatchetinthehead.‘Hewasmurdered,wasn’the?’shehadsaidafterthefuneralofherbrother,RichardAbernethie,inthepresenceofthefamilysolicitor,MrEntwhistle,andtheassembledAbernethies,whoareanxioustoknowhowRichard’ssizablefortunewillbedistributed.Entwhistle,desperatenottoloseanymoreclientstomurder,turnstoHerculePoirotforhelp.Akillercomplicatesanalreadyverycomplicatedfamily—classicChristie;purePoirot.
LiverpoolPost:‘Keepsusguessing—andguessingwrongly—totheverylastpage.’
30.HickoryDickoryDock(1955)
AnoutbreakofkleptomaniaatastudenthostelisnotnormallythesortofcrimethatarousesHerculePoirot’sinterest.Butwhenitaffectstheworkofhissecretary,MissLemon,whosesisterworksatthehostel,heagreestolookintothematter.ThematterbecomesabonafidemysterywhenPoirotperusesthebizarrelistofstolenandvandalizeditems—includingastethoscope,someoldflanneltrousers,aboxofchocolates,aslashedrucksack,andadiamondringfoundinabowlofasoup.‘Auniqueandbeautifulproblem,’thegreatdetectivedeclares.Unfortunately,this‘beautifulproblem’isnotjustoneofthieveryandmischief—forthereisakillerontheloose.
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Anevent…Thereisplentyofentertainment.’
TheNewYorkTimes:‘TheChristiefanoflongeststanding,whothinksheknowseveryoneofhertricks,willstillbesurprisedby…thetwistshere.’
31.DeadMan’sFolly(1956)
SirGeorgeandLadyStubbsdesiretohostavillagefetewithadifference—amockmurdermystery.Ingoodfaith,AriadneOliver,themuch-laudedcrimenovelist,agreestoorganisetheproceedings.Astheeventdrawsnear,however,Ariadnesensesthatsomethingsinisterisabouttohappen—andcallsuponheroldfriendHerculePoirottocomedowntoDartmoorforthefestivities.Ariadne’sinstincts,alas,arerightonthemoney,andsoonenoughPoirothasarealmurdertoinvestigate.
TheNewYorkTimes:‘TheinfalliblyoriginalAgathaChristiehascomeup,onceagain,withanewandhighlyingeniouspuzzle-construction.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Thesolutionisofthecolossalingenuitywehavebeenconditionedtoexpect.’
32.CatAmongthePigeons(1959)
ArevolutionintheMiddleEasthasadirectanddeadlyimpactuponthesummertermatMeadowbank,apicture-perfectgirls’schoolintheEnglishcountryside.PrinceAliYusuf,HereditarySheikhofRamat,whosegreatliberalizingexperiment—‘hospitals,schools,aHealthService’—iscomingtochaos,knowsthathemustprepareforthedayofhisexile.Heaskshispilotandschoolfriend,BobRawlinson,tocareforapacketofjewels.Rawlinsondoesso,hidingthemamongthepossessionsofhisniece,JenniferSutcliffe,whoisboundforMeadowbank.Rawlinsoniskilledbeforehecanrevealthehidingplace—oreventhefactthathehasemployedhisnieceasasmuggler.Butsomeoneknows,orsuspects,thatJenniferhasthejewels.AsmurderstrikesMeadowbank,onlyHerculePoirotcanrestorethepeace
Ofnote:InthisnovelwemeetColonelPikeaway,latertoappearinthenon-PoirotsPassengertoFrankfurtandPosternofFate,andwemeetthefinancierMrRobinson,whowillalsoappearinPosternofFateandwhowillshowupatMissMarple’sBertram’sHotel
DailyExpress,ofCatAmongthePigeons:‘Immenselyenjoyable.’
TheNewYorkTimes:‘ToreadAgathaChristieatherbestistoexperiencetherarefiedpleasureofwatchingafaultlesstechnicianatwork,andsheisintopforminCatAmongthePigeons.’
33.TheAdventureoftheChristmasPudding(1960)
‘ThisbookofChristmasfaremaybedescribedas“TheChef’sSelection.”IamtheChef!’AgathaChristiewritesinherForeword,inwhichshealsorecallsthedelightfulChristmasesofheryouthatAbneyHallinthenorthofEngland.Butwhiletheauthor’sChristmaseswereuninterruptedbymurder,herfamousdetective’sarenot(seealsoHerculePoirot’sChristmas).Inthetitlenovella,Poirot—whohasbeencoercedintoattending‘anold-fashionedChristmasintheEnglishcountryside’—getsallthetrimmings,certainly,buthealsogetsawoman’scorpseinthesnow,aKurdishknifespreadingacrimsonstainacrossherwhitefurwrap.
Collectedwithin:TheAdventureoftheChristmasPudding;‘TheMysteryoftheSpanishChest’;TheUnderDog(novella);‘Four-and-TwentyBlackbirds’;‘TheDream’;andaMissMarplemystery,‘Greenshaw’sFolly.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘ThereistheirresistiblesimplicityandbuoyancyofaChristmastreataboutitall.’
34.TheClocks(1963)
SheilaWebb,typist-for-hire,hasarrivedat19WilbrahamCrescentintheseasidetownofCrowdeantoacceptanewjob.Whatshefindsisawell-dressedcorpsesurroundedbyfiveclocks.MrsPebmarsh,theblindownerofNo.19,deniesallknowledgeofringingSheila’ssecretarialagencyandaskingforherbyname—yetsomeonedid.Nordoessheownthatmanyclocks.Andneitherwomanseemstoknowthevictim.ColinLamb,ayoungintelligencespecialistworkingacaseofhisownatthenearbynavalyard,happenstobeonthesceneatthetimeofSheilaWebb’sghastlydiscovery.LambknowsofonlyonemanwhocanproperlyinvestigateacrimeasbizarreandbafflingaswhathappenedinsideNo.
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Hereisthegrand-mannerdetectivestoryinallitsglory.’
TheBookman:‘SuperlativeChristie…extremelyingenious.’
SaturdayReview:‘Asure-fireattention-gripper—naturally.’
35.ThirdGirl(1966)
HerculePoirotisinterruptedatbreakfastbyayoungwomanwhowishestoconsultwiththegreatdetectiveaboutamurdershe‘mighthave’committed—butuponbeingintroducedtoPoirot,thegirlflees.Anddisappears.Shehassharedaflatwithtwoseeminglyordinaryyoungwomen.AsHerculePoirot—withtheaidofthecrimenovelistMrsAriadneOliver—learnsmoreaboutthismysterious‘thirdgirl,’hehearsrumoursofrevolvers,flick-knives,andbloodstains.Evenifamurdermightnothavebeencommitted,somethingisseriouslywrong,anditwilltakeallofPoirot’switsandtenacitytoestablishwhetherthe‘thirdgirl’isguilty,innocent,orinsane.
SundayTelegraph:‘First-classChristie.’
FinancialTimes:‘Mesmerisingingenuity.’
36.Hallowe’enParty(1969)
MysterywriterAriadneOliverhasbeeninvitedtoaHallowe’enpartyatWoodleighCommon.Oneoftheotherguestsisanadolescentgirlknownfortellingtalltalesofmurderandintrigue—andforbeinggenerallyunpleasant.Butwhenthegirl,Joyce,isfounddrownedinanapple-bobbingtub,MrsOliverwondersafterthefictionalnatureofthegirl’sclaimthatshehadoncewitnessedamurder.WhichofthepartyguestswantedtokeepherquietisaquestionforAriadne’sfriendHerculePoirot.ButunmaskingakillerthisHallowe’enisnotgoingtobeeasy—forthereisn’tasoulinWoodleighwhobelievesthelatelittlestorytellerwasactuallymurdered.
DailyMirror:‘Athunderingsuccess…atriumphforHerculePoirot.’
37.ElephantsCanRemember(1972)
‘TheRavenscroftsdidn’tseemthatkindofperson.Theyseemedwellbalancedandplacid.’
Andyet,twelveyearsearlier,thehusbandhadshotthewife,andthenhimself—orperhapsitwastheotherwayaround,sincesetsofbothoftheirfingerprintswereonthegun,andthegunhadfallenbetweenthem.ThecasehauntsAriadneOliver,whohadbeenafriendofthecouple.Thefamousmysterynovelistdesiresthisreal-lifemysterysolved,andcallsuponHerculePoirottohelpherdoso.Oldsinshavelongshadows,theproverbgoes.Poirotisnowaveryoldman,buthismindisasnimbleandassharpaseverandcanstillpenetratedeepintotheshadows.ButasPoirotandMrsOliverandSuperintendentSpencereopenthelong-closedcase,astartlingdiscoveryawaitsthem.AndifmemoryservesPoirot(anditdoes!),crime—likehistory—hasatendencytorepeatitself.
TheTimes:“Splendid.”
38.Poirot’sEarlyCases(1974)
Withhiscareerstillinitsformativeyears,welearnmanythingsabouthowPoirotcametoexercisethosefamous‘greycells’sowell.FourteenoftheeighteenstoriescollectedhereinarenarratedbyCaptainArthurHastings—includingwhatwouldappeartobetheearliestPoirotshortstory,‘TheAffairattheVictoryBall,’whichfollowssoonontheeventsofTheMysteriousAffairatStyles.TwoofthestoriesarenarratedbyPoirothimself,toHastings.One,‘TheChocolateBox,’concernsPoirot’searlydaysontheBelgianpoliceforce,andthecasethatwashisgreatestfailure:‘Mygreycells,theyfunctionednotatall,’Poirotadmits.Butotherwise,inthismostfascinatingcollection,theyfunctionbrilliantly,Poirot’sgreycells,challengingthereadertokeeppaceateverytwistandturn.
Collectedwithin:‘TheAffairattheVictoryBall’;‘TheAdventureoftheClaphamCook’;‘TheCornishMystery’;‘TheAdventureofJohnnieWaverly’;‘TheDoubleClue’;‘TheKingofClubs’;‘TheLemesurierInheritance’;‘TheLostMine’;‘ThePlymouthExpress’;‘TheChocolateBox’;‘TheSubmarinePlans’;‘TheThird-FloorFlat’;‘DoubleSin’;‘TheMarketBasingMystery’;‘Wasps’Nest’;‘TheVeiledLady’;‘ProblematSea’;‘HowDoesYourGardenGrow?’
SundayExpress:‘Superb,vintageChristie.’
39.Curtain:Poirot’sLastCase(1975)
CaptainArthurHastingsnarrates.Poirotinvestigates.‘This,Hastings,willbemylastcase,’declaresthedetectivewhohadenteredthesceneasaretireeinTheMysteriousAffairatStyles,thecaptain’s,andour,firstencounterwiththenow-legendaryBelgiandetective.Poirotpromisesthat,‘Itwillbe,too,mymostinterestingcase—andmymostinterestingcriminal.ForinXwehaveatechniquesuperb,magnificent…Xhasoperatedwithsomuchabilitythathehasdefeatedme,HerculePoirot!’Thesettingis,appropriately,StylesCourt,whichhassincebeenconvertedintoaprivatehotel.AndunderthissameroofisX,amurdererfive-timesover;amurdererbynomeansfinishedmurdering.InCurtain,Poirotwill,atlast,retire—deathcomesastheend.AndhewillbequeathtohisdearfriendHastingsanastoundingrevelation.‘TheendingofCurtainisoneofthemostsurprisingthatAgathaChristieeverdevised,’writesherbiographer,CharlesOsborne.
Ofnote:On6August1975,uponthepublicationofCurtain,TheNewYorkTimesranafront-pageobituaryofHerculePoirot,completewithphotograph.ThepassingofnootherfictionalcharacterhadbeensoacknowledgedinAmerica’s‘paperofrecord.’AgathaChristiehadalwaysintendedCurtaintobe‘Poirot’sLastCase’:HavingwrittenthenovelduringtheBlitz,shestoredit(heavilyinsured)inabankvaulttillthetimethatshe,herself,wouldretire.AgathaChristiediedon12January1976.
Time:‘First-rateChristie:fast,complicated,wrylyfunny.’
CharlesOsborneon
BlackCoffeePOIROTPLAY(1930)
PerhapsbecauseofherdissatisfactionwithAlibi,theplaywhichMichaelMortonhadmadein1928outofherPoirotnovelTheMurderofRogerAckroyd,AgathaChristiedecidedtotryherhandatputtingHerculePoirotonthestageinaplayofherown.TheresultwasBlackCoffee.‘Itwasaconventionalspythriller,’shesaidofitlater,‘andalthoughfullofclichésitwasnot,Ithink,atallbad.’Sheshowedittoheragent,whoadvisedhernottobothersubmittingittoanytheatricalmanagement,asitwasnotgoodenoughtobestaged.However,afriendofMrsChristiewhowasconnectedwiththeatricalmanagementthoughtotherwise,andBlackCoffeewastriedout,in1930,attheEmbassyTheatreinSwissCottage,London.(TheEmbassyisnowusedasadramaschool.)InAprilthefollowingyear,itopenedintheWestEndwhereitranforafewmonthsattheStMartin’sTheatre(wherealaterChristieplay,TheMousetrap,wastorunforever).
In1930,PoirothadbeenplayedbyFrancisL.Sullivan,withJohnBoxerasCaptainHastings,JoyceBlandasLuciaAmory,andDonaldWolfitasDrCarelli.3IntheWestEndproduction,FrancisL.SullivanwasstillPoirot,butHastingswasnowplayedbyRolandCulver,andDrCarellibyDinoGalvani.TheLondonDailyTelegraphthoughttheplaya‘soundpieceofdetective-storywriting’,andpreferredSullivan’srenderingofthepartofPoirot‘totheonewhichMrCharlesLaughtongaveusinAlibi.MrLaughton’sPoirotwasadiabolicallycleveroddity.MrSullivan’sisalovablehumanbeing.’4AgathaChristiedidnotseetheproduction.‘IbelieveitcameonforashortruninLondon,’shewrotein1972,‘butIdidn’tseeitbecauseIwasabroadinMesopotamia.’5
Theplay,whichisinthreeacts,issetinthelibraryofSirClaudAmory’shouseatAbbot’sCleve,abouttwenty-fivemilesfromLondon.SirClaudisascientistengagedinatomicresearchandhadjustdiscoveredtheformulaforAmorite,whoseforce‘issuchthatwherewehavehithertokilledbythousands,wecannowkillbyhundredsofthousands.’Unfortunately,theformulaisstolenbyoneofSirClaud’shousehold,andthescientistfoolishlyoffersthethiefachancetoreplacetheformulawithnoquestionsasked.Thelightsinthelibraryareswitchedofftoenablethistohappen,butwhenthelightscomeonagain,theformulaisstillmissing,SirClaudisdead,andHerculePoirothasarrived.Bytheendoftheevening,withacertainamountofassistancefromHastingsandInspectorJapp,Poirothasunmaskedthemurdererandretrievedtheformula.However,thewayisnotthuspavedforHiroshimafifteenyearslater,andthehorrorofnuclearwar,forsomethingelsehappensjustbeforetheendoftheplay.
SirClaud’sbutleriscalledTredwell,butwhetherheisrelatedtotheTredwellwhowasthebutleratChimneysinTheSecretofChimneysandTheSevenDialsMysteryisnotknown.Hecannotbethesameman,forLordCaterhamwouldsurelynothavelethistreasureofabutlergo.SirClaud’sfamilyareanimpressivelydubiouscollectionofcharacters,andthesuspectsalsoincludethescientist’ssecretary,EdwardRaynor,andasinisterItalian,DrCarelli.
BlackCoffee,whichwassuccessfullyrevivedsomeyearsafteritsfirstproduction,hasremainedafavouritewithrepertorycompaniesandamateursthroughouttheworld,ashavesomanyplayseitherbyoradaptedfromAgathaChristie.ThoughBlackCoffeelacksthecomplexityandfiendishcunningofAgathaChristie’slaterplays,itwouldprobablyrepaymajorrevivalnotonlyasaperiodpiecebut,ifimpressivelyenoughcast,asahighlyentertainingmurdermystery.ThecastingofPoirotwould,however,havetobeverycarefullyundertaken.6AgathaChristieusedtocomplainthat,althoughanumberofveryfineactorshadplayedPoirot,nonewasphysicallyverylikethecharactershehadcreated.CharlesLaughton,shepointedout,hadtoomuchavoirdupois,andsohadFrancisL.Sullivanwhowas‘broad,thick,andabout6feet2inchestall’.AustinTrevor,inthreePoirotmovies,didnotevenattemptphysicallytorepresentthecharacter.Apublicistforthefilmcompanyactuallyannouncedthat‘thedetectiveisdescribedbytheauthoressasanelderlymanwithanegg-shapedheadandbristlingmoustache’,whereas‘AustinTrevorisagood-lookingyoungmanandclean-shavenintothebargain!’
In1931,BlackCoffeewasfilmedattheTwickenhamStudios,withAustinTrevor(whohadalreadyplayedPoirotinthefilm,Alibi)replacingFrancisL.Sullivan,RichardCooperasHastings,DinoGalvaniasDrCarelli,MelvilleCooperasInspectorJapp,AdrienneAllenasLuciaAmory,PhilipStrangeasRichardAmory,andC.V.FranceasSirClaud.ThefilmwasdirectedbyLeslieHiscott,butwasgenerallyconsideredtobeinferiortothesamedirector’sAlibi
AdaptedbyCharlesOsborneasanovel,BlackCoffeewasfirstpublishedinEnglandandtheUSAin1998.Itwassimultaneouslytranslatedandpublishedinseveralotherlanguages.(TheFinnisheditionwasactuallythefirstofalltoappear,in1997.)
AboutCharlesOsborne
ThisessaywasadaptedfromCharlesOsborne’sTheLifeandCrimesofAgathaChristie:ABiographicalCompaniontotheWorksofAgathaChristie(1982,rev.1999).Mr.OsbornewasborninBrisbanein1927.Heisknowninternationallyasanauthorityonopera,andhaswrittenanumberofbooksonmusicalandliterarysubjects,amongthemTheCompleteOperasofVerdi(1969);WagnerandHisWorld(1977);andW.H.Auden:TheLifeofaPoet(1980).Anaddictofcrimefictionandtheworld’sleadingauthorityonAgathaChristie,CharlesOsborneadaptedtheChristieplaysBlackCoffee(Poirot);Spider’sWeb;andTheUnexpectedGuestintonovels.HelivesinLondon.
3Aroleplayedbythepresentauthorinarepertorycompany’srevivalinTunbridgewellsin1955.4DailyTelegraph,10April1931.5IntroductiontoPeterSaunders:TheMousetrapMan(1972).6Afirst-classproductionoftheplaywhichtouredverysuccessfullyinGreatBritainin1981starredPatrickCargillasadelightfulandconvincingPoirot.AbouttheAuthor
CharlesOsbornewasborninBrisbanein1927.Heisknowninternationallyasanauthorityonopera,andhaswrittennumberofbooksonmusicalandliterarysubjects,amongthemTheCompleteOperasofVerdi(1969),WagnerandhisWorld(1977),W.H.Auden:TheLifeofaPoet(1980)andTheLifeandCrimesofAgathaChristie(1982).
Visitwww.AuthorTracker.comforexclusiveinformationonyourfavoriteHarperCollinsauthor.
TheAgathaChristieCollection
ChristieCrimeClassics
TheManintheBrownSuit
TheSecretofChimneys
TheSevenDialsMystery
TheMysteriousMrQuin
TheSittafordMystery
TheHoundofDeath
TheListerdaleMystery
WhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?
ParkerPyneInvestigates
MurderIsEasy
AndThenThereWereNone
TowardsZero
DeathComesastheEnd
SparklingCyanide
CrookedHouse
TheyCametoBaghdad
DestinationUnknown
Spider’sWeb*
TheUnexpectedGuest*
OrdealbyInnocence
ThePaleHorse
EndlessNight
PassengerToFrankfurt
ProblematPollensaBay
WhiletheLightLasts
HerculePoirotInvestigates
TheMysteriousAffairatStyles
TheMurderontheLinks
PoirotInvestigates
TheMurderofRogerAckroyd
TheBigFour
TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain
BlackCoffee*
PerilatEndHouse
LordEdgwareDies
MurderontheOrientExpress
Three-ActTragedy
DeathintheClouds
TheABCMurders
MurderinMesopotamia
CardsontheTable
MurderintheMews
DumbWitness
DeathontheNile
AppointmentwithDeath
HerculePoirot’sChristmas
SadCypress
One,Two,BuckleMyShoe
EvilUndertheSun
FiveLittlePigs
TheHollow
TheLaboursofHercules
TakenattheFlood
MrsMcGinty’sDead
AftertheFuneral
HickoryDickoryDock
DeadMan’sFolly
CatAmongthePigeons
TheAdventureoftheChristmasPudding
TheClocks
ThirdGirl
Hallowe’enParty
ElephantsCanRemember
Poirot’sEarlyCases
Curtain:Poirot’sLastCase
MissMarpleMysteries
TheMurderattheVicarage
TheThirteenProblems
TheBodyintheLibrary
TheMovingFinger
AMurderIsAnnounced
TheyDoItwithMirrors
APocketFullofRye
4.50fromPaddington
TheMirrorCrack’dfromSidetoSide
ACaribbeanMystery
AtBertram’sHotel
Nemesis
SleepingMurder
MissMarple’sFinalCases
Tommy&Tuppence
TheSecretAdversary
PartnersinCrime
NorM?
BythePrickingofMyThumbs
PosternofFate
PublishedasMaryWestmacott
Giant’sBread
UnfinishedPortrait
AbsentintheSpring
TheRoseandtheYewTree
ADaughter’saDaughterTheBurden
Memoirs
AnAutobiography
Come,TellMeHowYouLive
PlayCollections
TheMousetrapandSelectedPlays
WitnessfortheProsecutionandSelectedPlays
www.agathachristie.com
FormoreinformationaboutAgathaChristie,pleasevisittheofficialwebsite.
*novelisedbyCharlesOsborneCopyright
Copyright?1997AgathaChristieLimited(aChorioncompany)
“EssaybyCharlesOsborne”excerptedfromTheLifeandCrimesofAgathaChristie.Copyright?1982,1999byCharlesOsborne.Reprintedwithpermission.
AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypaymentoftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenon-exclusive,non-transferablerighttoaccessandreadthetextofthise-bookon-screen.Nopartofthistextmaybereproduced,transmitted,down-loaded,decompiled,reverseengineered,orstoredinorintroducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,nowknownorhereinafterinvented,withouttheexpresswrittenpermissionofHarperCollinse-books.
AdobeReadereditionpublishedSeptember2004ISBN0-06-079033-4
EPubEdition?2010ISBN:9780061739323
Thise-bookwassetfromtheAgathaChristieSignatureEditionpublished2002byHarperCollinsPublishers,London.
10987654321
FirstpublishedinGreatBritainbyHarperCollinsPublishers1998
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TableofContents
Cover
TitlePage
Foreword
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
E-BookExtras
ThePoirots
EssaybyCharlesOsborne
AbouttheAuthor
TheAgathaChristieCollection
Copyright
AboutthePublisher