AgathaChristie
LordEdgwareDies
AHerculePoirotMystery
Dedication
ToDr.andMrs.CampbellThompson
Contents
Cover
TitlePage
Dedication
1ATheatricalParty
2ASupperParty
3TheManwiththeGoldTooth
4AnInterview
5Murder
6TheWidow
7TheSecretary
8Possibilities
9TheSecondDeath
10JennyDriver
11TheEgoist
12TheDaughter
13TheNephew
14FiveQuestions
15SirMontaguCorner
16MainlyDiscussion
17TheButler
18TheOtherMan
19AGreatLady
20TheTaxiDriver
21Ronald’sStory
22StrangeBehaviourofHerculePoirot
23TheLetter
24NewsfromParis
25ALuncheonParty
26Paris?
27ConcerningPince-Nez
28PoirotAsksaFewQuestions
29PoirotSpeaks
30TheStory
31AHumanDocument
AbouttheAuthor
OtherBooksbyAgathaChristie
Copyright
AboutthePublisher
One
ATHEATRICALPARTY
Thememoryofthepublicisshort.AlreadytheintenseinterestandexcitementarousedbythemurderofGeorgeAlfredSt.VincentMarsh,fourthBaronEdgware,isathingpastandforgotten.Newersensationshavetakenitsplace.
Myfriend,HerculePoirot,wasneveropenlymentionedinconnectionwiththecase.This,Imaysay,wasentirelyinaccordancewithhisownwishes.Hedidnotchoosetoappearinit.Thecreditwentelsewhere—andthatishowhewishedittobe.Moreover,fromPoirot’sownpeculiarprivatepointofview,thecasewasoneofhisfailures.Healwaysswearsthatitwasthechanceremarkofastrangerinthestreetthatputhimontherighttrack.
Howeverthatmaybe,itwashisgeniusthatdiscoveredthetruthoftheaffair.ButforHerculePoirotIdoubtifthecrimewouldhavebeenbroughthometoitsperpetrator.
IfeelthereforethatthetimehascomeformetosetdownallIknowoftheaffairinblackandwhite.IknowtheinsandoutsofthecasethoroughlyandImayalsomentionthatIshallbefulfillingthewishesofaveryfascinatingladyinsodoing.
IhaveoftenrecalledthatdayinPoirot’sprimneatlittlesittingroomwhen,stridingupanddownaparticularstripofcarpet,mylittlefriendgaveushismasterlyandastoundingrésuméofthecase.Iamgoingtobeginmynarrativewherehedidonthatoccasion—ataLondontheatreinJuneoflastyear.
CarlottaAdamswasquitetherageinLondonatthatmoment.Theyearbeforeshehadgivenacoupleofmatineeswhichhadbeenawildsuccess.Thisyearshehadhadathreeweeks’seasonofwhichthiswasthelastnightbutone.
CarlottaAdamswasanAmericangirlwiththemostamazingtalentforsingle-handedsketchesunhamperedbymakeuporscenery.Sheseemedtospeakeverylanguagewithease.Hersketchofaneveninginaforeignhotelwasreallywonderful.Inturn,Americantourists,Germantourists,middle-classEnglishfamilies,questionableladies,impoverishedRussianaristocratsandwearydiscreetwaitersallflittedacrossthescene.
Hersketcheswentfromgravetogayandbackagain.HerdyingCzecho-Slovakianwomaninhospitalbroughtalumptothethroat.Aminutelaterwewererockingwithlaughterasadentistpliedhistradeandchattedamiablywithhisvictims.
Herprogrammeclosedwithwhatsheannouncedas“SomeImitations.”
Hereagain,shewasamazinglyclever.Withoutmakeupofanykind,herfeaturesseemedtodissolvesuddenlyandreformthemselvesintothoseofafamouspolitician,orawell-knownactress,orasocietybeauty.Ineachcharactershegaveashorttypicalspeech.Thesespeeches,bytheway,wereremarkablyclever.Theyseemedtohitoffeveryweaknessofthesubjectselected.
OneofherlastimpersonationswasJaneWilkinson—atalentedyoungAmericanactresswell-knowninLondon.Itwasreallyveryclever.Inanitiesslippedoffhertonguechargedwithsomepowerfulemotionalappealsothatinspiteofyourselfyoufeltthateachwordwasutteredwithsomepotentandfundamentalmeaning.Hervoice,exquisitelytoned,withadeephuskynoteinit,wasintoxicating.Therestrainedgestures,eachstrangelysignificant,theslightlyswayingbody,theimpressioneven,ofstrongphysicalbeauty—howshedidit,Icannotthink!
IhadalwaysbeenanadmirerofthebeautifulJaneWilkinson.Shehadthrilledmeinheremotionalparts,andIhadalwaysmaintainedinfaceofthosewhoadmittedherbeautybutdeclaredshewasnoactress,thatshehadconsiderablehistrionicpowers.
Itwasalittleuncannytohearthatwell-known,slightlyhuskyvoicewiththefatalisticdropinitthathadstirredmesooften,andtowatchthatseeminglypoignantgestureoftheslowlyclosingandunclosinghand,andthesuddenthrowbackoftheheadwiththehairshakenbackfromthefacethatIrealizedshealwaysgaveatthecloseofadramaticscene.
JaneWilkinsonwasoneofthoseactresseswhohadleftthestageonhermarriageonlytoreturntoitacoupleofyearslater.
ThreeyearsagoshehadmarriedthewealthybutslightlyeccentricLordEdgware.Rumourwentthatshelefthimshortlyafterwards.Atanyrateeighteenmonthsafterthemarriage,shewasactingforthefilmsinAmerica,andhadthisseasonappearedinasuccessfulplayinLondon.
WatchingCarlottaAdams’cleverbutperhapsslightlymaliciousimitation,itoccurredtometowonderhowmuchimitationswereregardedbythesubjectselected.Weretheypleasedatthenotoriety—attheadvertisementitafforded?Orweretheyannoyedatwhatwas,afterall,adeliberateexposingofthetricksoftheirtrade?WasnotCarlottaAdams
IdecidedthatifIwerethesubjectinquestion,Ishouldbeverymuchannoyed.Ishould,ofcourse,concealmyvexation,butdecidedlyIshouldnotlikeit.Onewouldneedgreatbroadmindednessandadistinctsenseofhumourtoappreciatesuchamercilessexposé.
Ihadjustarrivedattheseconclusionswhenthedelightfulhuskylaughfromthestagewasechoedfrombehindme.
Iturnedmyheadsharply.Intheseatimmediatelybehindmine,leaningforwardwithherlipsslightlyparted,wasthesubjectofthepresentimitation—LadyEdgware,betterknownasJaneWilkinson.
Irealizedimmediatelythatmydeductionshadbeenallwrong.Shewasleaningforward,herlipsparted,withanexpressionofdelightandexcitementinhereyes.
Asthe“imitation”finished,sheapplaudedloudly,laughingandturningtohercompanion,atallextremelygood-lookingman,oftheGreekgodtype,whosefaceIrecognizedasonebetterknownonthescreenthanonthestage.ItwasBryanMartin,theheroofthescreenmostpopularatthemoment.HeandJaneWilkinsonhadbeenstarredtogetherinseveralscreenproductions.
“Marvellous,isn’tshe?”LadyEdgwarewassaying.
Helaughed.
“Jane—youlookallexcited.”
“Well,shereallyistoowonderful!HeapsbetterthanIthoughtshe’dbe.”
IdidnotcatchBryanMartin’samusedrejoinder.CarlottaAdamshadstartedonafreshimprovisation.
Whathappenedlateris,Ishallalwaysthink,averycuriouscoincidence.
Afterthetheatre,PoirotandIwentontosupperattheSavoy.
AttheverynexttabletoourswereLadyEdgware,BryanMartinandtwootherpeoplewhomIdidnotknow.IpointedthemouttoPoirotand,asIwasdoingso,anothercouplecameandtooktheirplacesatthetablebeyondthatagain.Thewoman’sfacewasfamiliarandyetstrangelyenough,forthemomentIcouldnotplaceit.
ThensuddenlyIrealizedthatitwasCarlottaAdamsatwhomIwasstaring!ThemanIdidnotknow.Hewaswell-groomed,withacheerful,somewhatvacuousface.NotatypethatIadmire.
CarlottaAdamswasdressedveryinconspicuouslyinblack.Herswasnotafacetocommandinstantattentionorrecognition.Itwasoneofthosemobilesensitivefacesthatpreeminentlylendthemselvestotheartofmimicry.Itcouldtakeonanaliencharactereasily,butithadnoveryrecognizablecharacterofitsown.
IimpartedthesereflectionsofminetoPoirot.Helistenedattentively,hisegg-shapedheadcockedslightlytoonesidewhilsthedartedasharpglanceatthetwotablesinquestion.
“SothatisLadyEdgware?Yes,Iremember—Ihaveseenheract.Sheisbellefemme.”
“Andafineactresstoo.”
“Possibly.”
“Youdon’tseemconvinced.”
“Ithinkitwoulddependonthesetting,myfriend.Ifsheisthecentreoftheplay,ifallrevolvesroundher—yes,thenshecouldplayherpart.Idoubtifshecouldplayasmallpartadequatelyorevenwhatiscalledacharacterpart.Theplaymustbewrittenaboutherandforher.Sheappearstomeofthetypeofwomenwhoareinterestedonlyinthemselves.”Hepausedandthenaddedratherunexpectedly:“Suchpeoplegothroughlifeingreatdanger.”
“Danger?”Isaid,surprised.
“Ihaveusedawordthatsurprisesyou,Isee,monami.Yes,danger.Because,yousee,awomanlikethatseesonlyonething—herself.Suchwomenseenothingofthedangersandhazardsthatsurroundthem—themillionconflictinginterestsandrelationshipsoflife.No,theyseeonlytheirownforwardpath.Andso—soonerorlater—disaster.”
Iwasinterested.Iconfessedtomyselfthatsuchapointofviewwouldnothavestruckme.
“Andtheother?”Iasked.
“MissAdams?”
Hisgazeswepttohertable.
“Well?”hesaid,smiling.“Whatdoyouwantmetosayabouther?”
“Onlyhowshestrikesyou.”
“Moncher,amItonightthefortune-tellerwhoreadsthepalmandtellsthecharacter?”
“Youcoulddoitbetterthanmost,”Irejoined.
“Itisaveryprettyfaiththatyouhaveinme,Hastings.Ittouchesme.Doyounotknow,myfriend,thateachoneofusisadarkmystery,amazeofconflictingpassionsanddesiresandattitudes?Maisoui,c’estvrai.Onemakesone’slittlejudgments—butninetimesoutoftenoneiswrong.”
“NotHerculePoirot,”Isaid,smiling
“EvenHerculePoirot!Oh!IknowverywellthatyouhavealwaysalittleideathatIamconceited,but,indeed,Iassureyou,Iamreallyaveryhumbleperson.”
Ilaughed.
“You—humble!”
“Itisso.Except—Iconfessit—thatIamalittleproudofmymoustaches.NowhereinLondonhaveIobservedanythingtocomparewiththem.”
“Youarequitesafe,”Isaiddryly.“Youwon’t.SoyouarenotgoingtoriskjudgmentonCarlottaAdams?”
“Elleestartiste!”saidPoirotsimply.“Thatcoversnearlyall,doesitnot?”
“Anyway,youdon’tconsiderthatshewalksthroughlifeinperil?”
“Wealldothat,myfriend,”saidPoirotgravely.“Misfortunemayalwaysbewaitingtorushoutuponus.Butastoyourquestion,MissAdams,Ithink,willsucceed.Sheisshrewdandsheissomethingmore.YouobservedwithoutdoubtthatsheisaJewess?”
Ihadnot.Butnowthathementionedit,IsawthefainttracesofSemiticancestry.Poirotnodded.
“Itmakesforsuccess—that.Thoughthereisstilloneavenueofdanger—sinceitisofdangerwearetalking.”
“Youmean?”
“Loveofmoney.Loveofmoneymightleadsuchaonefromtheprudentandcautiouspath.”
“Itmightdothattoallofus,”Isaid.
“Thatistrue,butatanyrateyouorIwouldseethedangerinvolved.Wecouldweightheprosandcons.Ifyoucareformoneytoomuch,itisonlythemoneyyousee,everythingelseisinshadow.”
Ilaughedathisseriousmanner.
“Esmeralda,thegipsyqueen,isingoodform,”Iremarkedteasingly.
“Thepsychologyofcharacterisinteresting,”returnedPoirotunmoved.“Onecannotbeinterestedincrimewithoutbeinginterestedinpsychology.Itisnotthemereactofkilling,itiswhatliesbehinditthatappealstotheexpert.Youfollowme,Hastings?”
IsaidthatIfollowedhimperfectly.
“Ihavenoticedthatwhenweworkonacasetogether,youarealwaysurgingmeontophysicalaction,Hastings.Youwishmetomeasurefootprints,toanalysecigaretteash,toprostratemyselfonmystomachfortheexaminationofdetail.Youneverrealizethatbylyingbackinanarmchairwiththeeyesclosedonecancomenearertothesolutionofanyproblem.Oneseesthenwiththeeyesofthemind.”
“Idon’t,”Isaid.“WhenIliebackinanarmchairwithmyeyesclosedonethinghappenstomeandonethingonly!”
“Ihavenoticedit!”saidPoirot.“Itisstrange.Atsuchmomentsthebrainshouldbeworkingfeverishly,notsinkingintosluggishrepose.Thementalactivity,itissointeresting,sostimulating!Theemploymentofthelittlegreycellsisamentalpleasure.Theyandtheyonlycanbetrustedtoleadonethroughfogtothetruth….”
IamafraidthatIhavegotintothehabitofavertingmyattentionwheneverPoirotmentionshislittlegreycells.Ihavehearditallsooftenbefore.
Inthisinstancemyattentionwanderedtothefourpeoplesittingatthenexttable.WhenPoirot’smonologuedrewtoacloseIremarkedwithachuckle:
“Youhavemadeahit,Poirot.ThefairLadyEdgwarecanhardlytakehereyesoffyou.”
“Doubtlessshehasbeeninformedofmyidentity,”saidPoirot,tryingtolookmodestandfailing.
“Ithinkitisthefamousmoustaches,”Isaid.“Sheiscarriedawaybytheirbeauty.”
Poirotcaressedthemsurreptitiously.
“Itistruethattheyareunique,”headmitted.“Oh,myfriend,the‘toothbrush’asyoucallit,thatyouwear—itisahorror—anatrocity—awilfulstuntingofthebountiesofnature.Abandonit,myfriend,Iprayofyou.”
“ByJove,”Isaid,disregardingPoirot’sappeal.“Thelady’sgettingup.Ibelieveshe’scomingtospeaktous.BryanMartinisprotesting,butshewon’tlistentohim.”
Sureenough,JaneWilkinsonsweptimpetuouslyfromherseatandcameovertoourtable.Poirotrosetohisfeetbowing,andIrosealso.
“M.HerculePoirot,isn’tit?”saidthesofthuskyvoice.
“Atyourservice.”
“M.Poirot,Iwanttotalktoyou.Imusttalktoyou.”
“Butcertainly,Madame,willyounotsitdown?”
“No,no,nothere.Iwanttotalktoyouprivately.We’llgorightupstairstomysuite.”
BryanMartinhadjoinedher,hespokenowwithadeprecatinglaugh.
“Youmustwaitalittle,Jane.We’reinthemiddleofsupper.SoisM.Poirot.”
ButJaneWilkinsonwasnotsoeasilyturnedfromherpurpose.
“Why,Bryan,whatdoesthatmatter?We’llhavesuppersentuptothesuite.Speaktothemaboutit,willyou?And,Bryan—”
Shewentafterhimashewasturningawayandappearedtourgesomecourseuponhim.Hestoodoutaboutit,Igathered,shakinghisheadandfrowning.Butshespokeevenmoreemphaticallyandfinallywithashrugoftheshouldershegaveway.
OnceortwiceduringherspeechtohimshehadglancedatthetablewhereCarlottaAdamssat,andIwonderedifwhatsheweresuggestinghadanythingtodowiththeAmericangirl.
Herpointgained,Janecameback,radiant.
“We’llgorightupnow,”shesaid,andincludedmeinadazzlingsmile.
Thequestionofouragreeingornotagreeingtoherplandidn’tseemtooccurtohermind.Shesweptusoffwithoutashadeofapology.
“It’sthegreatestluckjustseeingyouherethisevening,M.Poirot,”shesaidassheledthewaytothelift.“It’swonderfulhoweverythingseemstoturnoutrightforme.I’djustbeenthinkingandwonderingwhatonearthIwasgoingtodoandIlookedupandthereyouwereatthenexttable,andIsaidtomyself:‘M.Poirotwilltellmewhattodo.’”
Shebrokeofftosay“SecondFloor”totheliftboy.
“IfIcanbeofaidtoyou—”beganPoirot.
“I’msureyoucan.I’veheardyou’rejustthemostmarvellousmanthateverexisted.Somebody’sgottogetmeoutofthetangleI’minandIfeelyou’rejustthemantodoit.”
Wegotoutatthesecondfloorandsheledthewayalongthecorridor,pausedatadoorandenteredoneofthemostopulentoftheSavoysuites.
Castingherwhitefurwrapononechair,andhersmalljewelledbagonthetable,theactresssankontoachairandexclaimed:
“M.Poirot,somehoworotherI’vejustgottogetridofmyhusband!”
Two
ASUPPERPARTY
Afteramoment’sastonishmentPoirotrecoveredhimself!
“But,Madame,”hesaid,hiseyestwinkling,“gettingridofhusbandsisnotmyspeciality.”
“Well,ofcourseIknowthat.”
“Itisalawyeryourequire.”
“That’sjustwhereyou’rewrong.I’mjustaboutsickandtiredoflawyers.I’vehadstraightlawyersandcrookedlawyers,andnotoneofthem’sdonemeanygood.Lawyersjustknowthelaw,theydon’tseemtohaveanykindofnaturalsense.”
“AndyouthinkIhave?”
Shelaughed.
“I’veheardthatyou’rethecat’swhiskers,M.Poirot.”
“Comment?Thecat’swhiskers?Idonotunderstand.”
“Well—thatyou’reit.”
“Madame,Imayormaynothavebrains—asamatteroffactIhave—whypretend?Butyourlittleaffair,itisnotmygenre.”
“Idon’tseewhynot.It’saproblem.”
“Oh!aproblem!”
“Andit’sdifficult,”wentonJaneWilkinson.“Ishouldsayyouweren’tthemantoshyatdifficulties.”
“Letmecomplimentyouonyourinsight,Madame.Butallthesame,me,Idonotmaketheinvestigationsfordivorce.Itisnotpretty—cemétierlà.”
“Mydearman.I’mnotaskingyoutodospyingwork.Itwouldn’tbeanygood.ButI’vejustgottogetridoftheman,andI’msureyoucouldtellmehowtodoit.”
Poirotpausedawhilebeforereplying.Whenhedid,therewasanewnoteinhisvoice.
“Firsttellme,Madame,whyareyousoanxiousto‘getrid’ofLordEdgware?”
Therewasnodelayorhesitationaboutheranswer.Itcameswiftandpat.
“Why,ofcourse.Iwanttogetmarriedagain.Whatotherreasoncouldtherebe?”
Hergreatblueeyesopenedingenuously.
“Butsurelyadivorceshouldbeeasytoobtain?”
“Youdon’tknowmyhusband,M.Poirot.He’s—he’s—”Sheshivered.“Idon’tknowhowtoexplainit.He’saqueerman—he’snotlikeotherpeople.”
Shepausedandthenwenton.
“Heshouldneverhavemarried—anyone.IknowwhatI’mtalkingabout.Ijustcan’tdescribehim,buthe’s—queer.Hisfirstwife,youknow,ranawayfromhim.Leftababyofthreemonthsbehind.Heneverdivorcedherandshediedmiserablyabroadsomewhere.Thenhemarriedme.Well—Icouldn’tstickit.Iwasfrightened.IlefthimandwenttotheStates.I’venogroundsforadivorce,andifI’vegivenhimgroundsforone,hewon’ttakenoticeofthem.He’s—he’sakindoffanatic.”
“IncertainAmericanstatesyoucouldobtainadivorce,Madame.”
“That’snogoodtome—notifI’mgoingtoliveinEngland.”
“YouwanttoliveinEngland?”
“Yes.”
“Whoisthemanyouwanttomarry?”
“That’sjustit.TheDukeofMerton.”
Idrewinmybreathsharply.TheDukeofMertonhadsofarbeenthedespairofmatchmakingmammas.Ayoungmanofmonkishtendencies,aviolentAnglo-Catholic,hewasreportedtobecompletelyunderthethumbofhismother,theredoubtabledowagerduchess.Hislifewasaustereintheextreme.HecollectedChineseporcelainandwasreputedtobeofaesthetictastes.Hewassupposedtocarenothingforwomen.
“I’mjustcrazyabouthim,”saidJanesentimentally.“He’sunlikeanyoneIevermet,andMertonCastleistoowonderful.Thewholethingisthemostromanticbusinessthateverhappened.He’ssogood-lookingtoo—likeadreamykindofmonk.”
Shepaused.
“I’mgoingtogiveupthestagewhenImarry.Ijustdon’tseemtocareaboutitanymore.”
“Inthemeantime,”saidPoirotdryly,“LordEdgwarestandsinthewayoftheseromanticdreams.”
“Yes—andit’sdrivingmetodistraction.”Sheleanedbackthoughtfully.“OfcourseifwewereonlyinChicagoIcouldgethimbumpedoffquiteeasily,butyoudon’tseemtoruntogunmenoverhere.”
“Overhere,”saidPoirot,smiling,“weconsiderthateveryhumanhastherighttolive.”
“Well,Idon’tknowaboutthat.Iguessyou’dbebetteroffwithoutsomeofyourpoliticians,andknowingwhatIdoofEdgwareIthinkhe’dbenoloss—ratherthecontrary.”
Therewasaknockatthedoor,andawaiterenteredwithsupperdishes.JaneWilkinsoncontinuedtodiscussherproblemwithnoappreciationofhispresence
“ButIdon’twantyoutokillhimforme,M.Poirot.”
“Merci,Madame.”
“Ithoughtperhapsyoumightarguewithhiminsomecleverway.Gethimtogiveintotheideaofdivorce.I’msureyoucould.”
“Ithinkyouoverratemypersuasivepowers,Madame.”
“Oh!butyoucansurelythinkofsomething,M.Poirot.”Sheleanedforward.Herblueeyesopenedwideagain.“You’dlikemetobehappy,wouldn’tyou?”
Hervoicewassoft,lowanddeliciouslyseductive.
“Ishouldlikeeverybodytobehappy,”saidPoirotcautiously.
“Yes,butIwasn’tthinkingofeverybody.Iwasthinkingofjustme.”
“Ishouldsayyoualwaysdothat,Madame.”
Hesmiled.
“YouthinkI’mselfish?”
“Oh!Ididnotsayso,Madame.”
“IdaresayIam.But,yousee,Idosohatebeingunhappy.Itaffectsmyacting,even.AndI’mgoingtobeeversounhappyunlessheagreestoadivorce—ordies.
“Onthewhole,”shecontinuedthoughtfully,“itwouldbemuchbetterifhedied,Imean,I’dfeelmorefinallyquitofhim.”
ShelookedatPoirotforsympathy.
“Youwillhelpme,won’tyou,M.Poirot?”Sherose,pickingupthewhitewrap,andstoodlookingappealinglyintohisface.Iheardthenoiseofvoicesoutsideinthecorridor.Thedoorwasajar.“Ifyoudon’t—”shewenton.
“IfIdon’t,Madame?”
Shelaughed.
“I’llhavetocallataxitogoroundandbumphimoffmyself.”
Laughing,shedisappearedthroughadoortoanadjoiningroomjustasBryanMartincameinwiththeAmericangirl,CarlottaAdams,andherescort,andthetwopeoplewhohadbeensuppingwithhimandJaneWilkinson.TheywereintroducedtomeasMr.andMrs.Widburn.
“Hello!”saidBryan.“Where’sJane?IwanttotellherI’vesucceededinthecommissionshegaveme.”
Janeappearedinthedoorwayofthebedroom.Sheheldalipstickinonehand.
“Haveyougother?Howmarvellous.MissAdams,Idoadmireyourperformanceso.IfeltIjusthadtoknowyou.ComeinhereandtalktomewhileIfixmyface.It’slookingtooperfectlyfrightful.”
CarlottaAdamsacceptedtheinvitation.BryanMartinflunghimselfdowninachair.
“Well,M.Poirot,”hesaid.“Youweredulycaptured.HasourJanepersuadedyoutofightherbattles?Youmightaswellgiveinsooneraslater.Shedoesn’tunderstandtheword‘No.’”
“Shehasnotcomeacrossit,perhaps.”
“Averyinterestingcharacter,Jane,”saidBryanMartin.Helaybackinhishairandpuffedcigarettesmokeidlytowardstheceiling.“Tabooshavenomeaningforher.Nomoralswhatever.Idon’tmeanshe’sexactlyimmoral—sheisn’t.Amoralistheword,Ibelieve.Justseesonethingonlyinlife—whatJanewants.”
Helaughed.
“Ibelieveshe’dkillsomebodyquitecheerfully—andfeelinjurediftheycaughtherandwantedtohangherforit.Thetroubleisthatshewouldbecaught.Shehasn’tanybrains.Herideaofamurderwouldbetodriveupinataxi,sailinunderherownnameandshoot.”
“Now,Iwonderwhatmakesyousaythat?”murmuredPoirot.
“Eh?”
“Youknowherwell,Monsieur?”
“IshouldsayIdid.”
Helaughedagain,anditstruckmethathislaughwasunusuallybitter.
“Youagree,don’tyou?”heflungouttotheothers.
“Oh!Jane’sanegoist,”agreedMrs.Widburn.“Anactresshasgottobe,though.Thatis,ifshewantstoexpressherpersonality.”
Poirotdidnotspeak.HiseyeswererestingonBryanMartin’sface,dwellingtherewithacuriousspeculativeexpressionthatIcouldnotquiteunderstand.
AtthatmomentJanesailedinfromthenextroom,CarlottaAdamsbehindher.IpresumethatJanehadnow“fixedherface,”whateverthattermdenoted,toherownsatisfaction.Itlookedtomeexactlythesameasbeforeandquiteincapableofimprovement.
Thesupperpartythatfollowedwasquiteamerryone,yetIsometimeshadthefeelingthattherewereundercurrentswhichIwasincapableofappreciating.
JaneWilkinsonIacquittedofanysubtleties.Shewasobviouslyayoungwomanwhosawonlyonethingatatime.ShehaddesiredaninterviewwithPoirot,andhadcarriedherpointandobtainedherdesirewithoutdelay.Nowshewasobviouslyinhighgoodhumour.HerdesiretoincludeCarlottaAdamsinthepartyhadbeen,Idecided,amerewhim.Shehadbeenhighlyamused,asachildmightbeamused,bytheclevercounterfeitofherself.
No,theundercurrentsthatIsensedwerenothingtodowithJaneWilkinson.Inwhatdirectiondidtheylie?
Istudiedtheguestsinturn.BryanMartin?Hewascertainlynotbehavingquitenaturally.Butthat,Itoldmyself,mightbemerelycharacteristicofafilmstar.Theexaggeratedself-consciousnessofavainmantooaccustomedtoplayingaparttolayitasideeasily.
CarlottaAdams,atanyrate,wasbehavingnaturallyenough.Shewasaquietgirlwithapleasantlowvoice.IstudiedherwithsomeattentionnowthatIhadachancetodosoatclosequarters.Shehad,Ithought,distinctcharm,butcharmofasomewhatnegativeorder.Itconsistedinanabsenceofanyjarringorstridentnote.Shewasakindofpersonifiedsoftagreement.Herveryappearancewasnegative.Softdarkhair,eyesarathercolourlesspaleblue,palefaceandamobilesensitivemouth.Afacethatyoulikedbutthatyouwouldfindithardtoknowagainifyouweretomeether,say,indifferentclothes.
SheseemedpleasedatJane’sgraciousnessandcomplimentarysayings.Anygirlwouldbe,Ithought—andthen—justatthatmoment—somethingoccurredthatcausedmetorevisethatratherhastyopinion.
CarlottaAdamslookedacrossthetableatherhostesswhowasatthatmomentturningherheadtotalktoPoirot.Therewasacuriousscrutinizingqualityinthegirl’sgaze—itseemedadeliberatesummingup,andatthesametimeitstruckmethattherewasaverydefinitehostilityinthosepaleblueeyes.
Fancy,perhaps.Orpossiblyprofessionaljealousy.Janewasasuccessfulactresswhohaddefinitelyarrived.Carlottawasmerelyclimbingtheladder.
Ilookedatthethreeothermembersoftheparty.Mr.andMrs.Widburn,whataboutthem?Hewasatallcadaverousman,sheaplump,fair,gushingsoul.Theyappearedtobewealthypeoplewithapassionforeverythingconnectedwiththestage.Theywereinfact,unwillingtotalkonanyothersubject.OwingtomyrecentabsencefromEnglandtheyfoundmesadlyill-informed,andfinallyMrs.Widburnturnedaplumpshoulderonmeandrememberedmyexistencenomore.
ThelastmemberofthepartywasthedarkyoungmanwiththeroundcheerfulfacewhowasCarlottaAdams’escort.Ihadhadmysuspicionsfromthefirstthattheyoungmanwasnotquitesosoberashemighthavebeen.Ashedrankmorechampagnethisbecameevenmoreclearlyapparent.
Heappearedtobesufferingfromaprofoundsenseofinjury.Forthefirsthalfofthemealhesatingloomysilence.TowardsthelatterhalfheunbosomedhimselftomeapparentlyundertheimpressionthatIwasoneofhisoldestfriends.
“WhatImeantosay,”hesaid.“Itisn’t.No,dearoldchap,itisn’t—”
Iomittheslightslurringtogetherofthewords.
“Imeantosay,”hewenton,“Iaskyou?Imeanifyoutakeagirl—well,Imean—buttingin.Goingroundupsettingthings.NotasthoughI’deversaidawordtoherIshouldn’thavedone.She’snotthesort.Youknow—Puritanfathers—theMayflower—allthat.Dashit—thegirl’sstraight.WhatImeanis—whatwasIsaying?”
“Thatitwashardlines,”Isaidsoothingly.
“Well,dashitall,itis.Dashit,Ihadtoborrowthemoneyforthisbeanofrommytailor.Veryobligingchap,mytailor.I’veowedhimmoneyforyears.Makesasortofbondbetweenus.Nothinglikeabond,isthere,dearoldfellow.YouandI.YouandI.Whothedevilareyou,bytheway?”
“MynameisHastings.”
“Youdon’tsayso.NowIcouldhaveswornyouwereachapcalledSpencerJones.DearoldSpencerJones.MethimattheEtonandHarrowandborrowedafiverfromhim.WhatIsayisonefaceisverylikeanotherface—that’swhatIsay.IfwewerealotofChinkswewouldn’tknoweachotherapart.”
Heshookhisheadsadly,thencheeredupsuddenlyanddrankoffsomemorechampagne.
“Anyway,”hesaid.“I’mnotadamnednigger.”
Thisreflectionseemedtocausehimsuchelationthathepresentlymadeseveralremarksofahopefulcharacter.
“Lookonthebrightside,myboy,”headjuredme.“WhatIsayis,lookonthebrightside.Oneofthesedays—whenI’mseventy-fiveorso,I’mgoingtobearichman.Whenmyuncledies.ThenIcanpaymytailor.”
Hesatsmilinghappilyatthethought.
Therewassomethingstrangelylikeableabouttheyoungman.Hehadaroundfaceandanabsurdlysmallblackmoustachethatgaveonetheimpressionofbeingmaroonedinthemiddleofadesert.
CarlottaAdams,Inoticed,hadaneyeonhim,anditwasafteraglanceinhisdirectionthatsheroseandbrokeuptheparty.
“Itwasjustsweetofyoutocomeuphere,”saidJane.“Idosolovedoingthingsonthespurofthemoment,don’tyou?”
“No,”saidMissAdams.“I’mafraidIalwaysplanathingoutverycarefullybeforeIdoit.Itsaves—worry.”
Therewassomethingfaintlydisagreeableinhermanner.
“Well,atanyratetheresultsjustifyyou,”laughedJane.“Idon’tknowwhenIenjoyedanythingsomuchasIdidyourshowtonight.”
TheAmericangirl’sfacerelaxed.
“Well,that’sverysweetofyou,”shesaidwarmly.“AndIguessIappreciateyourtellingmeso.Ineedencouragement.Wealldo.”
“Carlotta,”saidtheyoungmanwiththeblackmoustache.“ShakehandsandsaythankyouforthepartytoAuntJaneandcomealong.”
Thewayhewalkedstraightthroughthedoorwasamiracleofconcentration.Carlottafollowedhimquickly.
“Well,”saidJane,“whatwasthatthatblewinandcalledmeAuntJane?Ihadn’tnoticedhimbefore.”
“Mydear,”saidMrs.Widburn.“Youmustn’ttakeanynoticeofhim.MostbrilliantasaboyintheO.U.D.S.You’dhardlythinksonow,wouldyou?Ihatetoseeearlypromisecometonothing.ButCharlesandIpositivelymusttoddle.”
TheWidburnsdulytoddledandBryanMartinwentwiththem.
“Well,M.Poirot?”
Hesmiledather.
“Ehbien,LadyEdgware?”
“Forgoodness’sake,don’tcallmethat.Letmeforgetit!Ifyouaren’tthehardest-heartedlittlemaninEurope!”
“Butno,butno,Iamnothard-hearted.”
Poirot,Ithought,hadhadquiteenoughchampagne,possiblyaglasstoomuch.
“Thenyou’llgoandseemyhusband?AndmakehimdowhatIwant?”
“Iwillgoandseehim,”Poirotpromisedcautiously.
“Andifheturnsyoudown—ashewill—you’llthinkofacleverplan.Theysayyou’rethecleverestmaninEngland,M.Poirot.”
“Madame,whenIamhard-hearted,itisEuropeyoumention.ButforclevernessyousayonlyEngland.”
“IfyouputthisthroughI’llsaytheuniverse.”
Poirotraisedadeprecatinghand.
“Madame,Ipromisenothing.IntheinterestsofthepsychologyIwillendeavourtoarrangeameetingwithyourhusband.”
“Psychoanalysehimasmuchasyoulike.Maybeitwoulddohimgood.Butyou’vegottopullitoff—formysake.I’vegottohavemyromance,M.Poirot.”
Sheaddeddreamily:“Justthinkofthesensationitwillmake.”
Three
THEMANWITHTHEGOLDTOOTH
Itwasafewdayslater,whenweweresittingatbreakfast,thatPoirotflungacrosstomealetterthathehadjustopened.
“Well,monami,”hesaid.“Whatdoyouthinkofthat?”
ThenotewasfromLordEdgwareandinstiffformallanguageitmadeanappointmentforthefollowingdayateleven.
ImustsaythatIwasverymuchsurprised.IhadtakenPoirot’swordsutteredlightlyinaconvivialmoment,andIhadhadnoideathathehadactuallytakenstepstocarryouthispromise.
Poirot,whowasveryquick-witted,readmymindandhiseyestwinkledalittle
“Butyes,monami,itwasnotsolelythechampagne.”
“Ididn’tmeanthat.”
“Butyes—butyes—youthoughttoyourself,thepooroldone,hehasthespiritoftheparty,hepromisesthingsthathewillnotperform—thathehasnointentionofperforming.But,myfriend,thepromisesofHerculePoirotaresacred.”
Hedrewhimselfupinastatelymannerashesaidthelastwords.“Ofcourse.Ofcourse.Iknowthat,”Isaidhastily.“ButIthoughtthatperhapsyourjudgmentwasslightly—whatshallIsay—influenced.”
“Iamnotinthehabitoflettingmyjudgmentbe‘influenced’asyoucallit,Hastings.Thebestanddriestofchampagne,themostgolden-hairedandseductiveofwomen—nothinginfluencesthejudgmentofHerculePoirot.No,monami,Iaminterested—thatisall.”
“InJaneWilkinson’sloveaffair?”
“Notexactlythat.Herloveaffair,asyoucallit,isaverycommonplacebusiness.Itisastepinthesuccessfulcareerofaverybeautifulwoman.IftheDukeofMertonhadneitheratitlenorwealthhisromanticlikenesstoadreamymonkwouldnolongerinterestthelady.No,Hastings,whatintriguesmeisthepsychologyofthematter.Theinterplayofcharacter.IwelcomethechanceofstudyingLordEdgwareatclosequarters.”
“Youdonotexpecttobesuccessfulinyourmission?”
“Pourquoipas?Everymanhashisweakspot.Donotimagine,Hastings,thatbecauseIamstudyingthecasefromapsychologicalstandpoint,Ishallnottrymybesttosucceedinthecommissionentrustedtome.Ialwaysenjoyexercisingmyingenuity.”
Ihadfearedanallusiontothelittlegreycellsandwasthankfultobesparedit.
“SowegotoRegentGateateleventomorrow?”Isaid.
“We?”Poirotraisedhiseyebrowsquizzically.
“Poirot!”Icried.“Youarenotgoingtoleavemebehind.Ialwaysgowithyou.”
“Ifitwereacrime,amysteriouspoisoningcase,anassassination—ah!thesearethethingsyoursouldelightsin.Butamerematterofsocialadjustment?”
“Notanotherword,”Isaiddeterminedly.“I’mcoming.”
Poirotlaughedgently,andatthatmomentweweretoldthatagentlemanhadcalled.
ToourgreatsurpriseourvisitorprovedtobeBryanMartin.
Theactorlookedolderbydaylight.Hewasstillhandsome,butitwasakindofravagedhandsomeness.Itflashedacrossmymindthathemightconceivablytakedrugs.Therewasakindofnervoustensionabouthimthatsuggestedthepossibility.
“Goodmorning,M.Poirot,”hesaidinacheerfulmanner.“YouandCaptainHastingsbreakfastatareasonablehour,Iamgladtosee.Bytheway,Isupposeyouareverybusyjustnow?”
Poirotsmiledathimamiably.
“No,”hesaid.“AtthemomentIhavepracticallynobusinessofimportanceonhand.”
“Comenow,”laughedBryan.“NotcalledinbyScotlandYard?NodelicatematterstoinvestigateforRoyalty?Icanhardlybelieveit.”
“Youconfoundfictionwithreality,myfriend,”saidPoirot,smiling.“Iam,Iassureyou,atthemomentcompletelyoutofwork,thoughnotyetonthedole.Dieumerci.”
“Well,that’sluckforme,”saidBryanwithanotherlaugh.“Perhapsyou’lltakeonsomethingforme.”
Poirotconsideredtheyoungmanthoughtfully.
“Youhaveaproblemforme—yes?”hesaidinaminuteortwo.
“Well—it’slikethis.IhaveandIhaven’t.”
Thistimehislaughwasrathernervous.Stillconsideringhimthoughtfully,Poirotindicatedachair.Theyoungmantookit.Hesatfacingus,forIhadtakenaseatbyPoirot’sside.
“Andnow,”saidPoirot,“letushearallaboutit.”
BryanMartinstillseemedtohavealittledifficultyingettingunderway.
“ThetroubleisthatIcan’ttellyouquiteasmuchasI’dliketo.”Hehesitated.“It’sdifficult.Yousee,thewholebusinessstartedinAmerica.”
“InAmerica?Yes?”
“Amereincidentfirstdrewmyattentiontoit.Asamatteroffact,IwastravellingbytrainandInoticedacertainfellow.Uglylittlechap,clean-shaven,glasses,andagoldtooth.”
“Ah!agoldtooth.”
“Exactly.That’sreallythecruxofthematter.”
Poirotnoddedhisheadseveraltimes.
“Ibegintocomprehend.Goon.”
“Well,asIsay.Ijustnoticedthefellow.Iwastravelling,bytheway,toNewYork.SixmonthslaterIwasinLosAngeles,andInoticedthefellowagain.Don’tknowwhyIshouldhave—butIdid.Still,nothinginthat.”
“Continue.”
“AmonthafterwardsIhadoccasiontogotoSeattle,andshortlyafterIgottherewhoshouldIseebutmyfriendagain,onlythistimeheworeabeard.”
“Distinctlycurious.”
“Wasn’tit?OfcourseIdidn’tfancyithadanythingtodowithmeatthattime,butwhenIsawthemanagaininLosAngeles,beardless,inChicagowithamoustacheanddifferenteyebrowsandinamountainvillagedisguisedasahobo—well,Ibegantowonder.”
“Naturally.”
“Andatlast—well,itseemedodd—butnotadoubtaboutit.Iwasbeingwhatyoucallshadowed.”
“Mostremarkable.”
“Wasn’tit?AfterthatImadesureofit.WhereverIwas,there,somewherenearathand,wasmyshadowmadeupindifferentdisguises.Fortunately,owingtothegoldtooth,Icouldalwaysspothim.”
“Ah!thatgoldtooth,itwasaveryfortunateoccurrence.”
“Itwas.”
“Pardonme,M.Martin,butdidyouneverspeaktotheman?Questionhimastothereasonofhispersistentshadowing?”
“No,Ididn’t.”Theactorhesitated.“Ithoughtofdoingsoonceortwice,butIalwaysdecidedagainstit.ItseemedtomethatIshouldmerelyputthefellowonhisguardandlearnnothing.PossiblyoncetheyhaddiscoveredthatIhadspottedhim,theywouldhaveputsomeoneelseonmytrack—someonewhomImightnotrecognize.”
“Eneffet…someonewithoutthatusefulgoldtooth.”
“Exactly.Imayhavebeenwrong—butthat’showIfigureditout.”
“Now,M.Martin,youreferredto‘they’justnow.Whomdidyoumeanby‘they?’”
“Itwasamerefigureofspeechusedforconvenience.Iassumed—Idon’tknowwhy—anebulous‘they’inthebackground.”
“Haveyouanyreasonforthatbelief?”
“None.”
“Youmeanyouhavenoconceptionofwhocouldwantyoushadowedorforwhatpurpose?”
“Nottheslightestidea.Atleast—”
“Continuez,”saidPoirotencouragingly.
“Ihaveanidea,”saidBryanMartinslowly.“It’samereguessonmypart,mind.”
“Aguessmaybeverysuccessfulsometimes,Monsieur.”
“ItconcernsacertainincidentthattookplaceinLondonabouttwoyearsago.Itwasaslightincident,butaninexplicableandanunforgettableone.I’veoftenwonderedandpuzzledoverit.JustbecauseIcouldfindnoexplanationofitatthetime,Iaminclinedtowonderifthisshadowingbusinessmightnotbeconnectedinsomewaywithit—butforthelifeofmeIcan’tseewhyorhow.”
“PerhapsIcan.”
“Yes,butyousee—”BryanMartin’sembarrassmentreturned.“TheawkwardthingisthatIcan’ttellyouaboutit—notnow,thatis.InadayorsoImightbeableto.”
StungintofurtherspeechbyPoirot’sinquiringglancehecontinueddesperately.
“Yousee—agirlwasconcernedinit.”
“Ah!parfaitement!AnEnglishgirl?”
“Yes.Atleast—why?”
“Verysimple.Youcannottellmenow,butyouhopetodosoinadayortwo.Thatmeansthatyouwanttoobtaintheconsentoftheyounglady.ThereforesheisinEngland.Also,shemusthavebeeninEnglandduringthetimeyouwereshadowed,forifshehadbeeninAmericayouwouldhavesoughtheroutthenandthere.Therefore,sinceshehasbeeninEnglandforthelasteighteenmonthssheisprobably,thoughnotcertainly,English.Itisgoodreasoningthat,eh?”
“Rather.Nowtellme,M.Poirot,ifIgetherpermission,willyoulookintothematterforme?”
Therewasapause.Poirotseemedtobedebatingthematterinhismind.Finallyhesaid:
“Whyhaveyoucometomebeforegoingtoher?”
“Well,Ithought—”hehesitated.“Iwantedtopersuadeherto—toclearthingsup—Imeantoletthingsbeclearedupbyyou.WhatImeanis,ifyouinvestigatetheaffair,nothingneedbemadepublic,needit?”
“Thatdepends,”saidPoirotcalmly.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Ifthereisanyquestionofcrime—”
“Oh!there’snocrimeconcerned.”
“Youdonotknow.Theremaybe.”
“Butyouwoulddoyourbestforher—forus?”
“That,naturally.”
Hewassilentforamomentandthensaid:
“Tellme,thisfollowerofyours—thisshadow—ofwhatagewashe?”
“Oh!quiteyoungish.Aboutthirty.”
“Ah!”saidPoirot.“Thatisindeedremarkable.Yes,thatmakesthewholethingverymuchmoreinteresting.”
Istaredathim.SodidBryanMartin.Thisremarkofhiswas,Iamsure,equallyunexplicabletousboth.Bryanquestionedmewithaliftoftheeyebrows.Ishookmyhead.
“Yes,”murmuredPoirot.“Itmakesthewholestoryveryinteresting.”
“Hemayhavebeenolder,”saidBryandoubtfully,“butIdon’tthinkso.”
“No,no,Iamsureyourobservationisquiteaccurate,M.Martin.Veryinteresting—extraordinarilyinteresting.”
RathertakenabackbyPoirot’senigmaticalwords,BryanMartinseemedatalosswhattosayordonext.Hestartedmakingdesultoryconversation.
“Anamusingpartytheothernight,”hesaid.“JaneWilkinsonisthemosthigh-handedwomanthateverexisted.”
“Shehasthesinglevision,”saidPoirot,smiling.“Onethingatatime.”
“Shegetsawaywithit,too,”saidMartin.“Howpeoplestandit,Idon’tknow!”
“Onewillstandagooddealfromabeautifulwoman,myfriend,”saidPoirotwithatwinkle.“Ifshehadthepugnose,thesallowskin,thegreasyhair,then—ah!thenshewouldnot‘getawaywithit’asyouputit.”
“Isupposenot,”concededBryan.“Butitmakesmemadsometimes.Allthesame,I’mdevotedtoJane,thoughinsomeways,mindyou,Idon’tthinkshe’squiteallthere.”
“Onthecontrary,Ishouldsayshewasverymuchonthespot.”
“Idon’tmeanthat,exactly.Shecanlookafterherinterestsallright.She’sgotplentyofbusinessshrewdness.No,Imeanmorally.”
“Ah!morally.”
“She’swhattheycallamoral.Rightandwrongdon’texistforher.”
“Ah!Irememberyousaidsomethingofthekindtheotherevening.”
“Weweretalkingofcrimejustnow—”
“Yes,myfriend?”
“Well,itwouldneversurprisemeifJanecommittedacrime.”
“Andyoushouldknowherwell,”murmuredPoirotthoughtfully.“Youhaveactedmuchwithher,haveyounot?”
“Yes.IsupposeIknowherthroughandthroughandupanddown.Icanseeherkilling,andquiteeasily.”
“Ah!shehasthehottemper,yes?”
“No,no,notatall.Coolasacucumber.Imeanifanyonewereinherwayshe’djustremovethem—withoutathought.Andonecouldn’treallyblameher—morally,Imean.She’djustthinkthatanyonewhointerferedwithJaneWilkinsonhadgottogo.”
Therewasabitternessinhislastwordsthathadbeenlackingheretofore.Iwonderedwhatmemoryhewasrecalling.
“Youthinkshewoulddo—murder?”
Poirotwatchedhimintently.
Bryandrewadeepbreath.
“Uponmysoul,Ido.Perhapsoneofthesedays,you’llremembermywords…knowher,yousee.She’dkillaseasilyasshe’ddrinkhermorningtea.Imeanit,M.Poirot.”
Hehadrisentohisfeet.
“Yes,”saidPoirotquietly.“Icanseeyoumeanit.”
“Iknowher,”saidBryanMartinagain,“throughandthrough.”
Hestoodfrowningforaminute,thenwithachangeoftone,hesaid:
“Astothisbusinesswe’vebeentalkingabout,I’llletyouknow,M.Poirot,inafewdays.Youwillundertakeit,won’tyou?”
Poirotlookedathimforamomentortwowithoutreplying.
“Yes,”hesaidatlast.“Iwillundertakeit.Ifindit—interesting.”
Therewassomethingqueerinthewayhesaidthelastword.IwentdownstairswithBryanMartin.Atthedoorhesaidtome:
“Didyougetthehangofwhathemeantaboutthatfellow’sage?Imean,whywasitinterestingthatheshouldbeaboutthirty?Ididn’tgetthehangofthatatall.”
“NomoredidI,”Iadmitted.
“Itdoesn’tseemtomakesense.Perhapshewasjusthavingagamewithme.”
“No,”Isaid.“Poirotisnotlikethat.Dependuponit,thepointhassignificancesincehesaysso.”
“Well,blessedifIcanseeit.Gladyoucan’teither.I’dhatetofeelIwasacompletenut.”
Hestrodeaway.Irejoinedmyfriend.
“Poirot,”Isaid.“Whatwasthepointabouttheageoftheshadower?”
“Youdonotsee?MypoorHastings!”Hesmiledandshookhishead.Thenheasked:“Whatdidyouthinkofourinterviewonthewhole?”
“There’ssolittletogoupon.Itseemsdifficulttosay.Ifweknewmore—”
“Evenwithoutknowingmore,donotcertainideassuggestthemselvestoyou,monami?”
Thetelephoneringingatthatmomentsavedmefromtheignominyofadmittingthatnoideaswhateversuggestedthemselvestome.Itookupthereceiver.
Awoman’svoicespoke,acrisp,clearefficientvoice.
“ThisisLordEdgware’ssecretaryspeaking.LordEdgwareregretsthathemustcanceltheappointmentwithM.Poirotfortomorrowmorning.HehastogoovertoParistomorrowunexpectedly.HecouldseeM.Poirotforafewminutesataquarterpasttwelvethismorningifthatwouldbeconvenient.”
IconsultedPoirot.
“Certainly,myfriend,wewillgotherethismorning.”
Irepeatedthisintothemouthpiece.
“Verygood,”saidthecrispbusinesslikevoice.“Aquarterpasttwelvethismorning.”
Sherangoff.
Four
ANINTERVIEW
IarrivedwithPoirotatLordEdgware’shouseinRegentGateinaverypleasantstateofanticipation.ThoughIhadnotPoirot’sdevotionto“thepsychology,”yetthefewwordsinwhichLadyEdgwarehadreferredtoherhusbandhadarousedmycuriosity.Iwasanxioustoseewhatmyownjudgmentwouldbe.
Thehousewasanimposingone—well-built,handsomeandslightlygloomy.Therewerenowindowboxesorsuchfrivolities.
Thedoorwasopenedtouspromptly,andbynoagedwhite-hairedbutlersuchaswouldhavebeeninkeepingwiththeexteriorofthehouse.Onthecontrary,itwasopenedbyoneofthehandsomestyoungmenIhaveeverseen.Tall,fair,hemighthaveposedtoasculptorforHermesorApollo.DespitehisgoodlookstherewassomethingvaguelyeffeminatethatIdislikedaboutthesoftnessofhisvoice.Also,inacuriousway,heremindedmeofsomeone—someone,too,whomIhadmetquitelately—butwhoitwasIcouldnotforthelifeofmeremember.
WeaskedforLordEdgware.
“Thisway,sir.”
Heledusalongthehall,pastthestaircase,toadoorattherearofthehall.
Openingit,heannouncedusinthatsamesoftvoicewhichIinstinctivelydistrusted.
Theroomintowhichwewereshownwasakindoflibrary.Thewallswerelinedwithbooks,thefurnishingsweredarkandsombrebuthandsome,thechairswereformalandnottoocomfortable.
LordEdgware,whorosetoreceiveus,wasatallmanofaboutfifty.Hehaddarkhairstreakedwithgrey,athinfaceandasneeringmouth.Helookedbad-temperedandbitter.Hiseyeshadaqueersecretivelookaboutthem.Therewassomething,Ithought,distinctlyoddaboutthoseeyes.
Hismannerwasstiffandformal.
“M.HerculePoirot?CaptainHastings?Pleasebeseated.”
Wesatdown.Theroomfeltchilly.Therewaslittlelightcominginfromtheonewindowandthedimnesscontributedtothecoldatmosphere.
LordEdgwarehadtakenupaletterwhichIsawtobeinmyfriend’shandwriting.
“Iamfamiliar,ofcourse,withyourname,M.Poirot.Whoisnot?”Poirotbowedatthecompliment.“ButIcannotquiteunderstandyourpositioninthismatter.Yousaythatyouwishtoseemeonbehalfof”—hepaused—“mywife.”
Hesaidthelasttwowordsinapeculiarway—asthoughitwereanefforttogetthemout.
“Thatisso,”saidmyfriend.
“Iunderstoodthatyouwereaninvestigatorof—crime,M.Poirot?”
“Ofproblems,LordEdgware.Thereareproblemsofcrime,certainly.Thereareotherproblems.”
“Indeed.Andwhatmaythisonebe?”
Thesneerinhiswordswaspalpablebynow.Poirottooknonoticeofit.
“IhavethehonourtoapproachyouonbehalfofLadyEdgware,”hesaid.“LadyEdgware,asyoumayknow,desires—adivorce.”
“Iamquiteawareofthat,”saidLordEdgwarecoldly.
“HersuggestionwasthatyouandIshoulddiscussthematter.”
“Thereisnothingtodiscuss.”
“Yourefuse,then?”
“Refuse?Certainlynot.”
WhateverelsePoirothadexpected,hehadnotexpectedthis.ItisseldomthatIhaveseenmyfriendutterlytakenaback,butIdidonthisoccasion.Hisappearancewasludicrous.Hismouthfellopen,hishandsflewout,hiseyebrowsrose.Helookedlikeacartooninacomicpaper.
“Comment?”hecried.“Whatisthis?Youdonotrefuse?”
“Iamatalosstounderstandyourastonishment,M.Poirot.”
“Ecoutez,youarewillingtodivorceyourwife?”
“CertainlyIamwilling.Sheknowsthatperfectlywell.Iwroteandtoldherso.”
“Youwroteandtoldherso?”
“Yes.Sixmonthsago.”
“ButIdonotunderstand.Idonotunderstandatall.”
LordEdgwaresaidnothing.
“Iunderstoodthatyouwereopposedtotheprincipleofdivorce.”
“Idonotseethatmyprinciplesareyourbusiness,M.Poirot.ItistruethatIdidnotdivorcemyfirstwife.Myconsciencewouldnotallowmetodoso.Mysecondmarriage,Iwilladmitfrankly,wasamistake.Whenmywifesuggestedadivorce,Irefusedpointblank.Sixmonthsagoshewrotetomeagainurgingthepoint.Ihaveanideashewantedtomarryagain—somefilmactororfellowofthatkind.Myviewshad,bythistime,undergonemodification.IwrotetoheratHollywoodtellingherso.WhyshehassentyoutomeIcannotimagine.Isupposeitisaquestionofmoney.”
Hislipssneeredagainashesaidthelastwords.
“Extremelycurious,”mutteredPoirot.“Extremelycurious.ThereissomethinghereIdonotunderstandatall.”
“Asregardsmoney,”wentonLordEdgware.“Mywifedesertedmeofherownaccord.Ifshewishestomarryanotherman,Icansetherfreetodoso,butthereisnoreasonwhysheshouldreceiveapennyfrommeandshewillnotdoso.”
“Thereisnoquestionofanyfinancialarrangement.”
LordEdgwareraisedhiseyebrows.
“Janemustbemarryingarichman,”hemurmuredcynically.
“ThereissomethingherethatIdonotunderstand,”saidPoirot.Hisfacewasperplexedandwrinkledwiththeeffortofthought.“IunderstoodfromLadyEdgwarethatshehadapproachedyourepeatedlythroughlawyers?”
“Shedid,”repliedLordEdgwaredryly.“Englishlawyers,Americanlawyers,everykindoflawyer,downtothelowestkindofscallywag.Finally,asIsay,shewrotetomeherself.”
“Youhavepreviouslyrefused?”
“Thatisso.”
“Butonreceivingherletter,youchangedyourmind.Whydidyouchangeyourmind,LordEdgware?”
“Notonaccountofanythinginthatletter,”hesaidsharply.“Myviewshappenedtohavechanged,thatisall.”
“Thechangewassomewhatsudden.”
LordEdgwaredidnotreply.
“Whatspecialcircumstancesbroughtaboutyourchangeofmind,LordEdgware?”
“That,really,ismyownbusinessM.Poirot.Icannotenterintothesubject.ShallwesaythatgraduallyIhadperceivedtheadvantagesofseveringwhat—youwillforgivemyplainspeaking—Iconsideredadegradingassociation.Mysecondmarriagewasamistake.”
“Yourwifesaysthesame,”saidPoirotsoftly.
“Doesshe?”
Therewasaqueerflickerforamomentinhiseyes,butitwasgonealmostatonce.
Herosewithanairoffinalityandaswesaidgood-byehismannerbecamelessunbending.
“Youmustforgivemyalteringtheappointment.IhavetogoovertoParistomorrow.”
“Perfectly—perfectly.”
“Asaleofworksofartasamatteroffact.Ihavemyeyeonalittlestatuette—aperfectthinginitsway—amacabreway,perhaps.ButIenjoythemacabre.Ialwayshave.Mytasteispeculiar.”
Againthatqueersmile.Ihadbeenlookingatthebooksintheshelvesnear.TherewerethememoirsofCasanova,alsoavolumeontheComtedeSade,anotheronmediaevaltortures.
IrememberedJaneWilkinson’slittleshudderasshespokeofherhusband.Thathadnotbeenacting.Thathadbeenrealenough.IwonderedexactlywhatkindofamanGeorgeAlfredSt.VincentMarsh,fourthBaronEdgware,was.
Verysuavelyhebidusfarewell,touchingthebellashedidso.Wewentoutofthedoor.TheGreekgodofabutlerwaswaitinginthehall.AsIclosedthelibrarydoorbehindme,Iglancedbackintotheroom.IalmostutteredanexclamationasIdidso.
Thatsuavesmilingfacewastransformed.Thelipsweredrawnbackfromtheteethinasnarl,theeyeswerealivewithfuryandanalmostinsanerage.
IwonderednolongerthattwowiveshadleftLordEdgware.WhatIdidmarvelatwastheironself-controloftheman.Tohavegonethroughthatinterviewwithsuchfrozenself-control,suchaloofpoliteness!
Justaswereachedthefrontdoor,adoorontherightopened.Agirlstoodatthedoorwayoftheroom,shrinkingbackalittleasshesawus.
Shewasatallslendergirl,withdarkhairandawhiteface.Hereyes,darkandstartled,lookedforamomentintomine.Then,likeashadow,sheshrankbackintotheroomagain,closingthedoor.
Amomentlaterwewereoutinthestreet.Poirothailedataxi.WegotinandhetoldthemantodrivetotheSavoy.
“Well,Hastings,”hesaidwithatwinkle,“thatinterviewdidnotgoatallasIfiguredtomyselfitwould.”
“No,indeed.WhatanextraordinarymanLordEdgwareis.”
IrelatedtohimhowIhadlookedbackbeforeclosingthedoorofthestudyandwhatIhadseen.Henoddedhisheadslowlyandthoughtfully.
“Ifancythatheisveryneartheborderlineofmadness,Hastings.Ishouldimaginehepractisesmanycuriousvices,andthatbeneathhisfrigidexteriorhehidesadeep-rootedinstinctofcruelty.”
“Itisnowonderbothhiswiveslefthim.”
“Asyousay.”
“Poirot,didyounoticeagirlaswewerecomingout?Adarkgirlwithawhiteface.”
“Yes,Inoticedher,monami.Ayoungladywhowasfrightenedandnothappy.”
Hisvoicewasgrave.
“Whodoyouthinkshewas?”
“Probablyhisdaughter.Hehasone.”
“Shedidlookfrightened,”Isaidslowly.“Thathousemustbeagloomyplaceforayounggirl.”
“Yes,indeed.Ah!hereweare,monami.Nowtoacquaintherladyshipwiththegoodnews.”
Janewasin,andaftertelephoning,theclerkinformedusthatweweretogoup.Apageboytookustothedoor.
Itwasopenedbyaneatmiddle-agedwomanwithglassesandprimlyarrangedgreyhair.FromthebedroomJane’svoice,withitshuskynote,calledtoher.
“IsthatM.Poirot,Ellis?Makehimsitrightdown.I’llfindaragtoputonandbethereinamoment.”
JaneWilkinson’sideaofaragwasagossamernegligeewhichrevealedmorethanithid.Shecameineagerly,saying:“Well?”
Poirotroseandbowedoverherhand.
“Exactlytheword,Madame,itiswell.”
“Why—howdoyoumean?”
“LordEdgwareisperfectlywillingtoagreetoadivorce.”
“What?”
Eitherthestupefactiononherfacewasgenuine,orelseshewasindeedamostmarvellousactress.
“M.Poirot!You’vemanagedit!Atonce!Likethat!Why,you’reagenius.Howinmercy’snamedidyousetaboutit?”
“Madame,Icannottakecomplimentswheretheyarenotearned.Sixmonthsagoyourhusbandwrotetoyouwithdrawinghisopposition.”
“What’sthatyousay?Wrotetome?Where?”
“ItwaswhenyouwereatHollywood,Iunderstand.”
“Inevergotit.Musthavegoneastray,Isuppose.AndtothinkI’vebeenthinkingandplanningandfrettingandgoingnearlycrazyallthesemonths.”
“LordEdgwareseemedtobeundertheimpressionthatyouwishedtomarryanactor.”
“Naturally.That’swhatItoldhim.”Shegaveapleasedchild’ssmile.Suddenlyitchangedtoalookofalarm.“Why,M.Poirot,youdidnotgoandtellhimaboutmeandtheduke?”
“No,no,reassureyourself.Iamdiscreet.Thatwouldnothavedone,eh?”
“Well,yousee,he’sgotaqueermeannature.MarryingMerton,he’dfeel,wasperhapsakindoflegupforme—sothennaturallyhe’dqueerthepitch.Butafilmactor’sdifferent.Though,allthesame,I’msurprised.Yes,Iam.Aren’tyousurprised,Ellis?”
Ihadnoticedthatthemaidhadcometoandfrofromthebedroomtidyingawayvariousoutdoorgarmentswhichwerelyingflungoverthebacksofchairs.Ithadbeenmyopinionthatshehadbeenlisteningtotheconversation.NowitseemedthatshewascompletelyinJane’sconfidence.
“Yes,indeed,m’lady.Hislordshipmusthavechangedagooddealsinceweknewhim,”saidthemaidspitefully.
“Yes,hemust.”
“Youcannotunderstandhisattitude.Itpuzzlesyou?”suggestedPoirot.
“Oh,itdoes.Butanyway,weneedn’tworryaboutthat.Whatdoesitmatterwhatmadehimchangehismindsolongashehaschangedit?”
“Itmaynotinterestyou,butitinterestsme,Madame.”
Janepaidnoattentiontohim.
“ThethingisthatI’mfree—atlast.”
“Notyet,Madame.”
Shelookedathimimpatiently.
“Well,goingtobefree.It’sthesamething.”
Poirotlookedasthoughhedidnotthinkitwas.
“ThedukeisinParis,”saidJane.“Imustcablehimrightaway.My—won’thisoldmotherbewild!”
Poirotrose.
“Iamglad,Madame,thatallisturningoutasyouwish.”
“Good-bye,M.Poirot,andthanksawfully.”
“Ididnothing.”
“Youbroughtmethegoodnews,anyway,M.Poirot,andI’meversograteful.Ireallyam.”
“Andthatisthat,”saidPoirottome,asweleftthesuite.“Thesingleidea—herself!Shehasnospeculation,nocuriosityastowhythatletterneverreachedher.Youobserve,Hastings,sheisshrewdbeyondbeliefinthebusinesssense,butshehasabsolutelynointellect.Well,well,thegoodGodcannotgiveeverything.”
“ExcepttoHerculePoirot,”Isaiddryly.
“Youmockyourselfatme,myfriend,”herepliedserenely.“Butcome,letmewalkalongtheEmbankment.Iwishtoarrangemyideaswithorderandmethod.”
Imaintainedadiscreetsilenceuntilsuchtimeastheoracleshouldspeak.
“Thatletter,”heresumedwhenwewerepacingalongbytheriver.“Itintriguesme.Therearefoursolutionsofthatproblem,myfriend.”
“Four?”
“Yes.First,itwaslostinthepost.Thatdoeshappen,youknow.Butnotveryoften.No,notveryoften.Incorrectlyaddressed,itwouldhavebeenreturnedtoLordEdgwarelongbeforethis.No,Iaminclinedtoruleoutthatsolution—though,ofcourse,itmaybethetrueone.
“Solutiontwo,ourbeautifulladyislyingwhenshesayssheneverreceivedit.That,ofcourse,isquitepossible.Thatcharmingladyiscapableoftellinganylietoheradvantagewiththemostchildlikecandour.ButIcannotsee,Hastings,howitcouldbetoheradvantage.Ifsheknowsthathewilldivorceher,whysendmetoaskhimtodoso?Itdoesnotmakesense.
“Solutionthree.LordEdgwareislying.Andifanyoneislyingitseemsmorelikelythatitishethanhiswife.ButIdonotseemuchpointinsuchalie.Whyinventafictitiouslettersentsixmonthsago?Whynotsimplyagreetomyproposition?No,Iaminclinedtothinkthathedidsendthatletter—thoughwhatthemotivewasforhissuddenchangeofattitudeIcannotguess.
“Sowecometothefourthsolution—thatsomeonesuppressedthatletter.Andthere,Hastings,weenteronaveryinterestingfieldofspeculation,becausethatlettercouldhavebeensuppressedateitherend—inAmericaorEngland.
“Whoeversuppresseditwassomeonewhodidnotwantthatmarriagedissolved.Hastings,Iwouldgiveagreatdealtoknowwhatisbehindthisaffair.Thereissomething—Iswearthereissomething.”
Hepausedandthenaddedslowly.
“SomethingofwhichasyetIhaveonlybeenabletogetaglimpse.”
Five
MURDER
Thefollowingdaywasthe30thJune.
ItwasjusthalfpastninewhenweweretoldthatInspectorJappwasbelowandanxioustoseeus.
ItwassomeyearssincewehadseenanythingoftheScotlandYardinspector.
“Ah!cebonJapp,”saidPoirot.“Whatdoeshewant,Iwonder?”
“Help,”Isnapped.“He’soutofhisdepthoversomecaseandhe’scometoyou.”
IhadnottheindulgenceforJappthatPoirothad.ItwasnotsomuchthatImindedhispickingPoirot’sbrains—afterall,Poirotenjoyedtheprocess,itwasadelicateflattery.WhatdidannoymewasJapp’shypocriticalpretencethathewasdoingnothingofthekind.Ilikedpeopletobestraightforward.Isaidso,andPoirotlaughed.
“Youarethedogofthebulldogbreed,eh,Hastings?ButyoumustrememberthatthepoorJapphehastosavehisface.Sohemakeshislittlepretence.Itisverynatural.”
Ithoughtitmerelyfoolishandsaidso.Poirotdidnotagree.
“Theoutwardform—itisabagatelle—butitmatterstopeople.Itenablesthemtokeeptheamourpropre.”
PersonallyIthoughtadashofinferioritycomplexwoulddoJappnoharm,buttherewasnopointinarguingthematter.Besides,IwasanxioustolearnwhatJapphadcomeabout.
Hegreetedusbothheartily.
“Justgoingtohavebreakfast,Isee.Notgotthehenstolaysquareeggsforyouyet,M.Poirot?”
ThiswasanallusiontoacomplaintfromPoirotastothevaryingsizesofeggswhichhadoffendedhissenseofsymmetry.
“Asyet,no,”saidPoirotsmiling.“Andwhatbringsyoutoseeussoearly,mygoodJapp?”
“It’snotearly—notforme.I’vebeenupandatworkforagoodtwohours.Astowhatbringsmetoseeyou—well,it’smurder.”
“Murder?”
Jappnodded.
“LordEdgwarewaskilledathishouseinRegentGatelastnight.Stabbedintheneckbyhiswife.”
“Byhiswife?”Icried.
InaflashIrememberedBryanMartin’swordsonthepreviousmorning.Hadhehadapropheticknowledgeofwhatwasgoingtohappen?Iremembered,too,Jane’seasyreferenceto“bumpinghimoff.”Amoral,BryanMartinhadcalledher.Shewasthetype,yes.Callous,egotisticalandstupid.Howrighthehadbeeninhisjudgment.
AllthispassedthroughmymindwhileJappwenton:
“Yes.Actress,youknow.Well-known.JaneWilkinson.Marriedhimthreeyearsago.Theydidn’tgeton.Shelefthim.”
Poirotwaslookingpuzzledandserious.
“Whatmakesyoubelievethatitwasshewhokilledhim?”
“Nobeliefaboutit.Shewasrecognized.Notmuchconcealmentaboutit,either.Shedroveupinataxi—”
“Ataxi—”Iechoedinvoluntarily,herwordsattheSavoythatnightcomingbacktome.
“—rangthebell,askedforLordEdgware.Itwasteno’clock.Butlersaidhe’dsee.‘Oh!’shesayscoolasacucumber.‘Youneedn’t.IamLadyEdgware.Isupposehe’sinthelibrary.’Andwiththatshewalksalongandopensthedoorandgoesinandshutsitbehindher.
“Wellthebutlerthoughtitwasqueer,butallright.Hewentdownstairsagain.Abouttenminuteslaterheheardthefrontdoorshut.So,anyway,shehadn’tstayedlong.Helockedupforthenightabouteleven.Heopenedthelibrarydoor,butitwasdark,sohethoughthismasterhadgonetobed.Thismorningthebodywasdiscoveredbyahousemaid.Stabbedinthebackoftheneckjustattherootsofthehair.”
“Wastherenocry?Nothingheard?”
“Theysaynot.Thatlibrary’sgotprettywellsoundproofdoors,youknow.Andthere’strafficpassing,too.Stabbedinthatway,deathresultsamazingquick.Straightthroughthecisternintothemedulla,that’swhatthedoctorsaid—orsomethingverylikeit.Ifyouhitonexactlytherightspotitkillsamaninstantaneously.”
“Thatimpliesaknowledgeofexactlywheretostrike.Italmostimpliesmedicalknowledge.”
“Yes—that’strue.Apointinherfavourasfarasitgoes.Buttentooneitwasachance.Shejuststrucklucky.Somepeopledohaveamazingluck,youknow.”
“Notsoluckyifitresultsinherbeinghanged,monami,”observedPoirot.
“No.Ofcourseshewasafool—sailinginlikethatandgivinghernameandall.”
“Indeed,verycurious.”
“Possiblyshedidn’tintendmischief.Theyquarrelledandshewhippedoutapenknifeandjabbedhimone.”
“Wasitapenknife?”
“Somethingofthatkind,thedoctorsays.Whateveritwas,shetookitawaywithher.Itwasn’tleftinthewound.”
Poirotshookhisheadinadissatisfiedmanner.
“No,no,myfriend,itwasnotlikethat.Iknowthelady.Shewouldbequiteincapableofsuchahot-bloodedimpulsiveaction.Besides,shewouldbemostunlikelytohaveapenknifewithher.Fewwomenhave—andassuredlynotJaneWilkinson.”
“Youknowher,yousay,M.Poirot?”
“Yes.Iknowher.”
Hesaidnomoreforthemoment.Jappwaslookingathiminquisitively.
“Gotsomethingupyoursleeve,M.Poirot?”heventuredatlast.“Ah!”saidPoirot.“Thatremindsme.Whathasbroughtyoutome?Eh?Itisnotmerelytopassthetimeofdaywithanoldcomrade?Assuredlynot.Youhavehereanicestraightforwardmurder.Youhavethecriminal.Youhavethemotive—whatexactlyisthemotive,bytheway?”
“Wantedtomarryanotherman.Shewasheardtosaysonotaweekago.Alsoheardtomakethreats.Saidshemeanttocallroundinataxiandbumphimoff.”
“Ah!”saidPoirot.“Youareverywell-informed—verywell-informed.Someonehasbeenveryobliging.”
Ithoughthiseyeslookedaquestion,butifso,Jappdidnotrespond.
“Wegettohearthings,M.Poirot,”hesaidstolidly.
Poirotnodded.Hehadreachedoutforthedailypaper.IthadbeenopenedbyJapp,doubtlesswhilehewaswaiting,andhadbeencastimpatientlyasideonourentry.Inamechanicalmanner,Poirotfoldeditbackatthemiddlepage,smoothedandarrangedit.Thoughhiseyeswereonthepaper,hismindwasdeepinsomekindofpuzzle.
“Youhavenotanswered,”hesaidpresently.“Sinceallgoesintheswimmingfashion,whycometome?”
“BecauseIheardyouwereatRegentGateyesterdaymorning.”
“Isee.”
“Now,assoonasIheardthat,Isaidtomyself,‘Somethinghere.’HislordshipsentforM.Poirot.Why?Whatdidhesuspect?Whatdidhefear?Beforedoinganythingdefinite,I’dbettergoroundandhaveawordwithhim.”
“Whatdoyoumeanby‘anythingdefinite?’Arrestingthelady,Isuppose?”
“Exactly.”
“Youhavenotseenheryet?”
“Oh!yes,Ihave.WentroundtotheSavoyfirstthing.Wasn’tgoingtoriskhergivingustheslip.”
“Ah!”saidPoirot.“Soyou—”
Hestopped.Hiseyes,whichhadbeenfixedthoughtfullyanduptonowunseeinglyonthepaperinfrontofhim,nowtookonadifferentexpression.Heliftedhisheadandspokeinachangedtoneofvoice.
“Andwhatdidshesay?Eh!myfriend.Whatdidshesay?”
“Igavehertheusualstuff,ofcourse,aboutwantingastatementandcautioningher—youcan’tsaytheEnglishpolicearen’tfair.”
“Inmyopinionfoolishlyso.Butproceed.Whatdidmi-ladysay?”
“Tookhysterics—that’swhatshedid.Rolledherselfabout,threwupherarmsandfinallyfloppeddownontheground.Oh!shediditwell—I’llsaythatforher.Aprettybitofacting.”
“Ah!”saidPoirotblandly.“Youformed,then,theimpressionthatthehystericswerenotgenuine?”
Jappwinkedvulgarly.
“Whatdoyouthink?I’mnottobetakeninwiththosetricks.Shehadn’tfainted—notshe!Justtryingiton,shewas.I’llswearshewasenjoyingit.”
“Yes,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.“Ishouldsaythatwasperfectlypossible.Whatnext?”
“Oh!well,shecameto—pretendedto,Imean.Andmoaned—andgroanedandcarriedonandthatsour-facedmaidofhersdopedherwithsmellingsaltsandatlastsherecoveredenoughtoaskforhersolicitor.Wasn’tgoingtosayanythingwithouthersolicitor.Hystericsonemoment,solicitorsthenext,nowIaskyou,isthatnaturalbehaviour,sir?”
“Inthiscasequitenatural,Ishouldsay,”saidPoirotcalmly.
“Youmeanbecauseshe’sguiltyandknowsit.”
“Notatall,Imeanbecauseofhertemperament.Firstshegivesyouherconceptionofhowthepartofawifesuddenlylearningofherhusband’sdeathshouldbeplayed.Then,havingsatisfiedherhistrionicinstinct,hernativeshrewdnessmakeshersendforasolicitor.Thatshecreatesanartificialsceneandenjoysitisnoproofofherguilt.It
“Well,shecan’tbeinnocent.That’ssure.”
“Youareverypositive,”saidPoirot.“Isupposethatitmustbeso.Shemadenostatement,yousay?Nostatementatall?”
Jappgrinned.
“Wouldn’tsayawordwithouthersolicitor.Themaidtelephonedforhim.Ilefttwoofmymenthereandcamealongtoyou.IthoughtitjustaswelltogetputwisetowhatevertherewasgoingonbeforeIwentonwiththings.”
“Andyetyouaresure?”
“OfcourseI’msure.ButIlikeasmanyfactsaspossible.Yousee,there’sgoingtobeabigsplashmadeaboutthis.Noholeandcornerbusiness.Allthepaperswillbefullofit.Andyouknowwhatpapersare.”
“Talkingofpapers,”saidPoirot.“Howdoyouaccountforthis,mydearfriend.Youhavenotreadyourmorningpaperverycarefully.”
Heleantacrossthetable,hisfingeronaparagraphinthesocietynews.Jappreadtheitemaloud.
SirMontaguCornergaveaverysuccessfuldinnerpartylastnightathishouseontheriveratChiswick.AmongthosepresentwereSirGeorgeandLadyduFisse,Mr.JamesBlunt,thewell-knowndramaticcritic,SirOscarHammerfeldtoftheOvertonFilmStudios,MissJaneWilkinson(LadyEdgware)andothers.
ForamomentJapplookedtakenaback.Thenherallied.
“What’sthatgottodowithit?ThisthingwassenttothePressbeforehand.You’llsee.You’llfindthatourladywasn’tthere,orthatshecameinlate—eleveno’clockorso.Blessyousir,youmustn’tbelieveeverythingyouseeinthePresstobegospel.Youofallpeopleoughttoknowbetterthanthat.”
“Oh!Ido,Ido.Itonlystruckmeascurious,thatwasall.”
“Thesecoincidencesdohappen.Now,M.Poirot,closeasanoysterIknowyoutobebybitterexperience.Butyou’llcomeacrosswiththings,won’tyou?You’lltellmewhyLordEdgwaresentforyou?”
Poirotshookhishead.
“LordEdgwaredidnotsendforme.ItwasIwhorequestedhimtogivemeanappointment.”
“Really?Andforwhatreason?”
Poirothesitatedaminute.
“Iwillansweryourquestion,”hesaidslowly.“ButIshouldliketoansweritinmyownway.”
Jappgroaned.Ifeltasneakingsympathywithhim.Poirotcanbeintenselyirritatingattimes.
“Iwillrequest,”wentonPoirot,“thatyoupermitmetoringupacertainpersonandaskhimtocomehere.”
“Whatperson?”
“Mr.BryanMartin.”
“Thefilmstar?What’shegottodowithit?”
“Ithink,”saidPoirot,“thatyoumayfindwhathehasgottosayinteresting—andpossiblyhelpful.Hastings,willyoubesogood?”
Itookupthetelephonebook.TheactorhadaflatinabigblockofbuildingsnearSt.James’Park.
“Victoria49499.”
ThesomewhatsleepyvoiceofBryanMartinspokeafterafewminutes.
“Hello—who’sspeaking?”
“WhatamItosay?”Iwhispered,coveringthemouthpiecewithmyhand.
“Tellhim,”saidPoirot,“thatLordEdgwarehasbeenmurdered,andthatIshouldesteemitafavourifhewouldcomeroundhereandseemeimmediately.”
Irepeatedthismeticulously.Therewasastartledexclamationattheotherend.
“MyGod,”saidMartin.“Soshe’sdoneitthen!I’llcomeatonce.”
“Whatdidhesay?”askedPoirot.Itoldhim.
“Ah!”saidPoirot.Heseemedpleased.“Soshe’sdoneitthen.Thatwaswhathesaid?ThenitisasIthought,itisasIthought.”
Japplookedathimcuriously.
“Ican’tmakeyouout,M.Poirot.Firstyousoundasthoughyouthoughtthewomanmightnothavedoneitafterall.Andnowyoumakeoutthatyouknewitallalong.”
Poirotonlysmiled.
Six
THEWIDOW
BryanMartinwasasgoodashisword.Inlessthantenminuteshehadjoinedus.Duringthetimethatwewaitedhisarrival,PoirotwouldonlytalkofextraneoussubjectsandrefusedtosatisfyJapp’scuriosityinthesmallestdegree.
Evidentlyournewshadupsettheyoungactorterribly.Hisfacewaswhiteanddrawn.
“Goodheavens,M.Poirot,”hesaidasheshookhands.“Thisisaterriblebusiness.I’mshockedtothecore—andyetIcan’tsayI’msurprised.I’vealwayshalf-suspectedthatsomethingofthiskindmighthappen.YoumayrememberIwassayingsoyesterday.”
“Maisoui,maisoui,”saidPoirot.“Irememberperfectlywhatyousaidtomeyesterday.LetmeintroduceyoutoInspectorJappwhoisinchargeofthecase.”
BryanMartinshotaglanceofreproachatPoirot.
“Ihadnoidea,”hemurmured.“Youshouldhavewarnedme.”
Henoddedcoldlytotheinspector.
Hesatdown,hislipspressedtightlytogether.
“Idon’tsee,”heobjected,“whyyouaskedmetocomeround.Allthishasnothingtodowithme.”
“Ithinkithas,”saidPoirotgently.“Inacaseofmurderonemustputone’sprivaterepugnanciesbehindone.”
“No,no.I’veactedwithJane.Iknowherwell.Dashitall,she’safriendofmine.”
“AndyetthemomentthatyouhearLordEdgwareismurdered,youjumptotheconclusionthatitisshewhohasmurderedhim,”remarkedPoirotdryly.
Theactorstarted.
“Doyoumeantosay—?”Hiseyesseemedstartingoutofhishead.“DoyoumeantosaythatI’mwrong?Thatshehadnothingtodowithit?”
Jappbrokein.
“No,no,Mr.Martin.Shediditrightenough.”
Theyoungmansankbackagaininhischair.
“Foramoment,”hemurmured,“IthoughtI’dmadethemostghastlymistake.”
“Inamatterofthiskindfriendshipmustnotbeallowedtoinfluenceyou,”saidPoirotdecisively.
“That’sallverywell,but—”
“Myfriend,doyouseriouslywishtorangeyourselfonthesideofawomanwhohasmurdered?Murder—themostrepugnantofhumancrimes.”
BryanMartinsighed.
“Youdon’tunderstand.Janeisnotanordinarymurderess.She—shehasnosenseofrightorwrong.Honestlyshe’snotresponsible.”
“That’llbeaquestionforthejury,”saidJapp.
“Come,come,”saidPoirotkindly.“Itisnotasthoughyouwereaccusingher.Sheisalreadyaccused.Youcannotrefusetotelluswhatyouknow.Youhaveadutytosociety,youngman.”
BryanMartinsighed.
“Isupposeyou’reright,”hesaid.“Whatdoyouwantmetotellyou?”
PoirotlookedatJapp.
“HaveyoueverheardLadyEdgware—orperhapsI’dbettercallherMissWilkinson—utterthreatsagainstherhusband?”askedJapp.
“Yes,severaltimes.”
“Whatdidshesay?”
“Shesaidthatifhedidn’tgiveherherfreedomshe’dhaveto‘bumphimoff.’”
“Andthatwasnotajoke,eh?”
“No.Ithinkshemeantitseriously.Onceshesaidshe’dtakeataxiandgoroundandkillhim—youheardthat,M.Poirot?”
Heappealedpatheticallytomyfriend.
Poirotnodded.
Jappwentonwithhisquestions.
“Now,Mr.Martin,we’vebeeninformedthatshewantedherfreedominordertomarryanotherman.Doyouknowwhothatmanwas?”
Bryannodded.
“Who?”
“Itwas—theDukeofMerton.”
“TheDukeofMerton!Whew!”Thedetectivewhistled.“Flyingathighgame,eh?Why,he’ssaidtobeoneoftherichestmeninEngland.”
Bryannoddedmoredejectedlythanever.
IcouldnotquiteunderstandPoirot’sattitude.Hewaslyingbackinhischair,hisfingerspressedtogetherandtherhythmicmotionofhisheadsuggestedthecompleteapprovalofamanwhohasputachosenrecordonthegramophoneandisenjoyingtheresult.
“Wouldn’therhusbanddivorceher?”
“No,herefusedabsolutely.”
“Youknowthatforafact?”
“Yes.”
“Andnow,”saidPoirot,suddenlytakingpartoncemoreintheproceedings,“youseewhereIcomein,mygoodJapp.IwasaskedbyLadyEdgwaretoseeherhusbandandtryandgethimtoagreetoadivorce.Ihadanappointmentforthismorning.”
BryanMartinshookhishead.
“Itwouldhavebeenofnouse,”hedeclaredconfidently.“Edgwarewouldneverhaveagreed.”
“Youthinknot?”saidPoirot,turninganamiableglanceonhim.
“Sureofit.Janeknewthatinherheartofhearts.She’dnorealconfidencethatyou’dsucceed.She’dgivenuphope.Themanwasamonomaniaconthesubjectofdivorce.”
Poirotsmiled.Hiseyesgrewsuddenlyverygreen.
“Youarewrong,mydearyoungman,”hesaidgently.“IsawLordEdgwareyesterday,andheagreedtoadivorce.”
TherewasnodoubtthatBryanMartinwascompletelydumbfoundedbythispieceofnews.HestaredatPoirotwithhiseyesalmoststartingoutofhishead.
“You—yousawhimyesterday?”hespluttered.
“Ataquarterpasttwelve,”saidPoirotinhismethodicalmanner.
“Andheagreedtoadivorce?”
“Heagreedtoadivorce.”
“YoushouldhavetoldJaneatonce,”criedtheyoungmanreproachfully.
“Idid,M.Martin.”
“Youdid?”criedMartinandJapptogether.
Poirotsmiled.
“Itimpairsthemotivealittle,doesitnot?”hemurmured.“Andnow,M.Martin,letmecallyourattentiontothis.”
Heshowedhimthenewspaperparagraph.
Bryanreadit,butwithoutmuchinterest.
“Youmeanthismakesanalibi?”hesaid.“IsupposeEdgwarewasshotsometimeyesterdayevening?”
“Hewasstabbed,notshot,”saidPoirot.
Martinlaidthepaperdownslowly.
“I’mafraidthisdoesnogood,”hesaidregretfully.“Janedidn’tgotothatdinner.”
“Howdoyouknow?”
“Iforget.Somebodytoldme.”
“Thatisapity,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.
Japplookedathimcuriously.
“Ican’tmakeyouout,Moosior.Seemsnowasthoughyoudon’twanttheyoungwomantobeguilty.”
“No,no,mygoodJapp.Iamnotthepartisanyouthink.Butfrankly,thecaseasyoupresentit,revoltstheintelligence.”
“Whatdoyoumean,revoltstheintelligence?Itdoesn’trevoltmine.”
IcouldseewordstremblingonPoirot’slips.Herestrainedthem.
“Hereisayoungwomanwhowishes,yousay,togetridofherhusband.ThatpointIdonotdispute.Shetoldmesofrankly.Ehbien,howdoesshesetaboutit?Sherepeatsseveraltimesintheloudclearvoicebeforewitnessesthatsheisthinkingofkillinghim.Shethengoesoutoneevening.Callsathishouse,hasherselfannounced,stabshimandgoesaway.Whatdoyoucallthat,mygoodfriend?Hasiteventhecommonsense?”
“Itwasabitfoolish,ofcourse.”
“Foolish?Itistheimbecility!”
“Well,”saidJapp,rising.“It’salltotheadvantageofthepolicewhencriminalslosetheirheads.ImustgobacktotheSavoynow.”
“YoupermitthatIaccompanyyou?”
Jappmadenodemurandwesetout.BryanMartintookareluctantleaveofus.Heseemedtobeinagreatstateofnervousexcitement.Hebeggedearnestlythatanyfurtherdevelopmentmightbereportedtohim.
“Nervysortofchap,”wasJapp’scommentonhim.
Poirotagreed.
AttheSavoywefoundanextremelylegal-lookinggentlemanwhohadjustarrived,andweproceededalltogethertoJane’ssuite.Jappspoketooneofhismen.
“Anything?”heinquiredlaconically.
“Shewantedtousethetelephone!”
“Whodidshetelephoneto?”inquiredJappeagerly.
“Jay’s.Formourning.”
Jappsworeunderhisbreath.Weenteredthesuite.
ThewidowedLadyEdgwarewastryingonhatsinfrontoftheglass.Shewasdressedinafilmycreationofblackandwhite.Shegreeteduswithadazzlingsmile.
“Why,M.Poirot,howgoodofyoutocomealong.Mr.Moxon,”(thiswastothesolicitor)“I’msogladyou’vecome.JustsitrightbymeandtellwhatquestionsIoughttoanswer.ThismanhereseemstothinkthatIwentoutandkilledGeorgethismorning.”
“Lastnight,madam,”saidJapp.
“Yousaidthismorning.Teno’clock.”
“Isaidtenp.m.”
“Well.Icannevertellwhichiswhich—a.m.’sandp.m.’s.”
“It’sonlyjustaboutteno’clocknow,”addedtheinspectorseverely.
Jane’seyesopenedverywide.
“Mercy,”shemurmured.“It’syearssinceI’vebeenawakeasearlyasthis.Why,itmusthavebeenEarlyDawnwhenyoucamealong.”
“Onemoment,Inspector,”saidMr.Moxoninhisponderouslegalvoice.“WhenamItounderstandthatthis—er—regrettable—mostshocking—occurrencetookplace?”
“Roundaboutteno’clocklastnight,sir.”
“Why,that’sallright,”saidJanesharply.“Iwasataparty—Oh!”Shecoveredhermouthupsuddenly.“PerhapsIoughtn’ttohavesaidthat.”
Hereyessoughtthesolicitor’sintimidappeal.
“If,atteno’clocklastnight,youwere—er—ataparty,LadyEdgware,I—er—Icanseenoobjectiontoyourinformingtheinspectorofthefact—noobjectionwhatever.”
“That’sright,”saidJapp.“Ionlyaskedyouforastatementofyourmovementsyesterdayevening.”
“Youdidn’t.Yousaidtensomethingm.Andanywayyougavemethemostterribleshock.Ifainteddeadaway,Mr.Moxon.”
“Aboutthisparty,LadyEdgware?”
“ItwasatSirMontaguCorner’s—atChiswick.”
“Whattimedidyougothere?”
“Thedinnerwasforeightthirty.”
“Youlefthere—when?”
“Istartedabouteighto’clock.IdroppedinatthePiccadillyPalaceforamomenttosaygood-byetoanAmericanfriendwhowasleavingfortheStates—Mrs.VanDusen.IgottoChiswickataquartertonine.”
“Whattimedidyouleave?”
“Abouthalfpasteleven.”
“Youcamestraightbackhere?”
“Yes.”
“Inataxi?”
“No.Inmyowncar.IhireitfromtheDaimlerpeople.”
“Andwhilstyouwereatthedinneryoudidn’tleaveit?”
“Well—I—”
“Soyoudidleaveit?”
Itwaslikeaterrierpouncingonarat
“Idon’tknowwhatyoumean.Iwascalledtothetelephonewhenwewereatdinner.”
“Whocalledyou?”
“Iguessitwassomekindofhoax.Avoicesaid,‘IsthatLadyEdgware?’AndIsaid,‘Yes,that’sright,’andthentheyjustlaughedandrangoff.”
“Didyougooutsidethehousetotelephone?”
Jane’seyesopenedwideinamazement.
“Ofcoursenot.”
“Howlongwereyouawayfromthedinnertable?”
“Aboutaminuteandahalf.”
Jappcollapsedafterthat.Iwasfullyconvincedthathedidnotbelieveawordshewassaying,buthavingheardherstoryhecoulddonomoreuntilhehadconfirmedordisprovedit.
Havingthankedhercoldly,hewithdrew.
WealsotookourleavebutshecalledPoirotback.
“M.Poirot.Willyoudosomethingforme?”
“Certainly,Madame.”
“SendacableformetotheDukeinParis.He’sattheCrillon.Heoughttoknowaboutthis.Idon’tliketosenditmyself.IguessI’vegottolookthebereavedwidowforaweekortwo.”
“Itisquiteunnecessarytocable,Madame,”saidPoirotgently.“Itwillbeinthepapersoverthere.”
“Why,whataheadpieceyou’vegot!Ofcourseitwill.Muchbetternottocable.Ifeelit’suptometokeepupmypositionnoweverything’sgoneright.Iwanttoactthewayawidowshould.Sortofdignified,youknow.Ithoughtofsendingawreathoforchids.They’reaboutthemostexpensivethingsgoing.IsupposeIshallhavetogotothefuneral.Whatdoyouthink?”
“Youwillhavetogototheinquestfirst,Madame.”
“Why,Isupposethat’strue.”Sheconsideredforamomentortwo.“Idon’tlikethatScotlandYardinspectoratall.Hejustscaredmetodeath.M.Poirot?”
“Yes?”
“Seemsit’skindofluckyIchangedmymindandwenttothatpartyafterall.”
Poirothadbeengoingtowardsthedoor.Suddenly,atthesewords,hewheeledround.
“Whatisthatyousay,Madame?Youchangedyourmind?”
“Yes.Imeanttogiveitamiss.Ihadafrightfulheadacheyesterdayafternoon.”
Poirotswallowedonceortwice.Heseemedtohaveadifficultyinspeaking.
“Didyou—saysotoanyone?”heaskedatlast.
“CertainlyIdid.TherewasquiteacrowdofushavingteaandtheywantedmetogoontoacocktailpartyandIsaid‘No.’IsaidmyheadwasachingfittosplitandthatIwasgoingrighthomeandthatIwasgoingtocutthedinnertoo.”
“Andwhatmadeyouchangeyourmind,Madame?”
“Elliswentonatme.SaidIcouldn’taffordtoturnitdown.OldSirMontagupullsalotofstrings,youknow,andhe’sacrotchetycreature—takesoffenceeasily.Well,Ididn’tcare.OnceImarryMertonI’mthroughwithallthis.ButEllisisalwaysonthecautiousside.Shesaidthere’smanyaslip,etc.,andafterallIguessshe’sright.Anyway,offIwent.”
“YouoweEllisadebtofgratitude,Madame,”saidPoirotseriously.
“IsupposeIdo.Thatinspectorhadgotitalltapedout,hadn’the?”
Shelaughed,Poirotdidnot.Hesaidinalowvoice:
“Allthesame—thisgivesonefuriouslytothink.Yes,furiouslytothink.”
“Ellis,”calledJane.
Themaidcameinfromthenextroom.
“M.Poirotsaysit’sveryluckyyoumademegotothatpartylastnight.”
EllisbarelycastaglanceatPoirot.Shewaslookinggrimanddisapproving.
“Itdoesn’tdotobreakengagements,m’lady.You’remuchtoofondofdoingit.Peopledon’talwaysforgiveit.Theyturnnasty.”
Janepickedupthehatshehadbeentryingonwhenwecamein.Shetrieditagain.
“Ihateblack,”shesaiddisconsolately.“Ineverwearit.ButIsuppose,asacorrectwidowI’vejustgotto.Allthosehatsaretoofrightful.Ringuptheotherhatplace,Ellis.I’vegottobefittobeseen.”
PoirotandIslippedquietlyfromtheroom.
Seven
THESECRETARY
WehadnotseenthelastofJapp.Hereappearedaboutanhourlater,flungdownhishatonthetableandsaidhewaseternallyblasted.
“Youhavemadetheinquiries?”askedPoirotsympathetically.
Jappnoddedgloomily.
“Andunlessfourteenpeoplearelying,shedidn’tdoit,”hegrowled.
Hewenton:
“Idon’tmindtellingyou,M.Poirot,thatIexpectedtofindaput-upjob.Onthefaceofit,itdidn’tseemlikelythatanyoneelsecouldhavekilledLordEdgware.She’stheonlypersonwho’sgottheghostofamotive.”
“Iwouldnotsaythat.Maiscontinuez.”
“Well,asIsay,Iexpectedtofindaput-upjob.Youknowwhatthesetheatricalcrowdsare—they’dallhangtogethertoscreenapal.Butthisisratheradifferentproposition.Thepeopletherelastnightwereallbigguns,theywerenoneofthemclosefriendsofhersandsomeofthemdidn’tknoweachother.Theirtestimonyisindependentandreliable.Ihopedthentofindthatshe’dslippedawayforhalfanhourorso.Shecouldeasilyhavedonethat—powderinghernoseorsomesuchexcuse.Butno,shedidleavethedinnertableasshetoldustoansweratelephonecall,butthebutlerwaswithher—and,bytheway,itwasjustasshetoldus.Heheardwhatshesaid.‘Yes,quiteright.ThisisLadyEdgware.’Andthentheothersiderangoff.It’scurious,that,youknow.Notthatit’sgotanythingtodowithit.”
“Perhapsnot—butitisinteresting.Wasitamanorawomanwhorangup?”
“Awoman,Ithinkshesaid.”
“Curious,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.
“Nevermindthat,”saidJappimpatiently.“Let’sgetbacktotheimportantpart.Thewholeeveningwentexactlyasshesaid.Shegotthereataquartertonine,leftathalfpastelevenandgotbackhereataquartertotwelve.I’veseenthechauffeurwhodroveher—he’soneofDaimler’sregularpeople.AndthepeopleattheSavoysawhercomeinandconfirmthetime.”
“Ehbien,thatseemsveryconclusive.”
“ThenwhataboutthosetwoinRegentGate?Itisn’tonlythebutler.LordEdgware’ssecretarysawhertoo.Theybothswearbyallthat’sholythatitwasLadyEdgwarewhocamehereatteno’clock.”
“Howlonghasthebutlerbeenthere?”
“Sixmonths.Handsomechap,bytheway.”
“Yes,indeed.Ehbien,myfriend,ifhehasonlybeentheresixmonthshecannothaverecognizedLadyEdgwaresincehehadnotseenherbefore.”
“Well,heknewherfromherpicturesinthepapers.Andanywaythesecretaryknewher.She’sbeenwithLordEdgwarefiveorsixyears,andshe’stheonlyonewho’sabsolutelypositive.”
“Ah!”saidPoirot.“Ishouldliketoseethesecretary.”
“Well,whynotcomealongwithmenow?”
“Thankyou,monami,Ishouldbedelightedtodoso.YouincludeHastingsinyourinvitation,Ihope?”
Jappgrinned.
“Whatdoyouthink?Wherethemastergoes,therethedogfollows,”headdedinwhatIcouldnotthinkwasthebestoftaste.
“RemindsmeoftheElizabethCanningCase,”saidJapp.“Youremember?Howatleastascoreofwitnessesoneithersidesworetheyhadseenthegipsy,MarySquires,intwodifferentpartsofEngland.Goodreputablewitnesses,too.Andshewithsuchahideousfacetherecouldn’tbetwolikeit.Thatmysterywasneverclearedup.It’sverymuchthesamehere.Here’saseparatelotofpeoplepreparedtoswearawomanwasintwodifferentplacesatthesametime.Whichof’emisspeakingthetruth?”
“Thatoughtnottobedifficulttofindout.”
“Soyousay—butthiswoman—MissCarroll,reallyknewLadyEdgware.Imeanshe’dlivedinthehousewithherdayafterday.Shewouldn’tbelikelytomakeamistake.”
“Weshallsoonsee.”
“Whocomesintothetitle?”Iasked.
“Anephew,CaptainRonaldMarsh.Bitofawaster,Iunderstand.”
“Whatdoesthedoctorsayastothetimeofdeath?”askedPoirot.
“We’llhavetowaitfortheautopsytobeexact,youknow.Seewherethedinnerhadgotto.”Japp’swayofputtingthingswas,Iamsorrytosay,farfromrefined.“Butteno’clockfitsinwellenough.Hewaslastseenaliveatafewminutespastninewhenheleftthedinnertableandthebutlertookwhiskyandsodaintothelibrary.Ateleveno’clockwhenthebutlerwentuptobedthelightwasout—sohemusthavebeendeadthen.Hewouldn’thavebeensittinginthedark.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.Amomentortwolaterwedrewupatthehouse,theblindsofwhichwerenowdown.
Thedoorwasopenedtousbythehandsomebutler.
Japptooktheleadandwentinfirst.PoirotandIfollowed.Thedooropenedtotheleft,sothatthebutlerstoodagainstthewallonthatside.Poirotwasonmyrightand,beingsmallerthanIwas,itwasonlyjustaswesteppedintothehallthatthebutlersawhim.Beingclosetohim,IheardthesuddenintakeofhisbreathandlookedsharplyatthemantofindhimstaringatPoirotwithakindofstartledfearvisibleonhisface.Iputthefactawayinmymindforwhatitmightbeworth.
Jappmarchedintothediningroom,whichlayonourright,andcalledthebutlerinafterhim.
“Nowthen,Alton,Iwanttogointothisagainverycarefully.Itwasteno’clockwhenthisladycame?”
“Herladyship?Yes,sir.”
“Howdidyourecognizeher?”askedPoirot.
“Shetoldmehername,sir,andbesidesI’veseenherportraitinthepapers.I’veseenheract,too.”
Poirotnodded.
“Howwasshedressed?”
“Inblack,sir.Blackwalkingdress,andasmallblackhat.Astringofpearlsandgreygloves.”
PoirotlookedaquestionatJapp.
“Whitetaffetaeveningdressanderminewrap,”saidthelattersuccinctly.
Thebutlerproceeded.HistaletalliedexactlywiththatwhichJapphadalreadypassedontous.
“Didanybodyelsecomeandseeyourmasterthatevening?”askedPoirot.
“No,sir.”
“Howwasthefrontdoorfastened?”
“IthasaYalelock,sir.IusuallydrawtheboltswhenIgotobed,sir.Ateleven,thatis.ButlastnightMissGeraldinewasattheoperasoitwasleftunbolted.”
“Howwasitfastenedthismorning?”
“Itwasbolted,sir.MissGeraldinehadbolteditwhenshecamein.”
“Whendidshecomein?Doyouknow?”
“Ithinkitwasaboutaquartertotwelve,sir.”
“Thenduringtheeveninguntilaquartertotwelve,thedoorcouldnotbeopenedfromoutsidewithoutakey?Fromtheinsideitcouldbeopenedbysimplydrawingbackthehandle.”
“Yes,sir.”
“Howmanylatchkeyswerethere?”
“Hislordshiphadhis,sir,andtherewasanotherkeyinthehalldrawerwhichMissGeraldinetooklastnight.Idon’tknowiftherewereanyothers.”
“Doesnobodyelseinthehousehaveakey?”
“No,sir.MissCarrollalwaysrings.”
Poirotintimatedthatthatwasallhewishedtoaskandwewentinsearchofthesecretary.
Wefoundherbusilywritingatalargedesk.
MissCarrollwasapleasantefficient-lookingwomanofaboutforty-five.Herfairhairwasturninggreyandsheworepince-nezthroughwhichapairofshrewdblueeyesgleamedoutonus.WhenshespokeIrecognizedtheclearbusinesslikevoicethathadspokentomethroughthetelephone.
“Ah!M.Poirot,”shesaidassheacknowledgedJapp’sintroduction.“Yes.ItwaswithyouImadethatappointmentforyesterdaymorning.”
“Precisely,Mademoiselle.”
IthoughtthatPoirotwasfavourablyimpressedbyher.Certainlyshewasneatnessandprecisionpersonified.
“Well,InspectorJapp?”saidMissCarroll.“WhatmorecanIdoforyou?”
“Justthis.AreyouabsolutelycertainthatitwasLadyEdgwarewhocameherelastnight?”
“That’sthethirdtimeyou’veaskedme.OfcourseI’msure.Isawher.”
“Wheredidyouseeher,Mademoiselle?”
“Inthehall.Shespoketothebutlerforaminutethenshewentalongthehallandinatthelibrarydoor.”
“Andwherewereyou?”
“Onthefirstfloor—lookingdown.”
“Andyouwerepositiveyouwerenotmistaken?”
“Absolutely.Isawherfacedistinctly.”
“Youcouldnothavebeenmisledbyaresemblance?”
“Certainlynot.JaneWilkinson’sfeaturesarequiteunique.Itwasher.”
JappthrewaglanceatPoirotasmuchastosay:“Yousee.”
“HadLordEdgwareanyenemies?”askedPoirotsuddenly.
“Nonsense,”saidMissCarroll.
“Howdoyoumean—nonsense,Mademoiselle?”
“Enemies!Peopleinthesedaysdon’thaveenemies.NotEnglishpeople!”
“YetLordEdgwarewasmurdered.”
“Thatwashiswife,”saidMissCarroll.
“Awifeisnotanenemy—no?”
“I’msureitwasamostextraordinarythingtohappen.I’veneverheardofsuchathinghappening—Imeantoanyoneinourclassoflife.”
ItwasclearlyMissCarroll’sideathatmurderswereonlycommittedbydrunkenmembersofthelowerclasses.
“Howmanykeysaretheretothefrontdoor?”
“Two,”repliedMissCarrollpromptly.“LordEdgwarealwayscarriedone.Theotherwaskeptinthedrawerinthehall,sothatanybodywhowasgoingtobelateincouldtakeit.Therewasathirdone,butCaptainMarshlostit.Verycareless.”
“DidCaptainMarshcomemuchtothehouse?”
“Heusedtolivehereuntilthreeyearsago.”
“Whydidheleave?”askedJapp.
“Idon’tknow.Hecouldn’tgetonwithhisuncle,Isuppose.”
“Ithinkyouknowalittlemorethanthat,Mademoiselle,”saidPoirotgently
Shedartedaquickglanceathim.
“Iamnotonetogossip,M.Poirot.”
“ButyoucantellusthetruthconcerningtherumoursofaseriousdisagreementbetweenLordEdgwareandhisnephew.”
“Itwasn’tsoseriousasallthat.LordEdgwarewasadifficultmantogetonwith.”
“Evenyoufoundthat?”
“I’mnotspeakingofmyself.IneverhadanydisagreementwithLordEdgware.Healwaysfoundmeperfectlyreliable.”
“ButasregardsCaptainMarsh—”
Poirotstucktoit,gentlycontinuingtogoadherintofurtherrevelations.
MissCarrollshruggedhershoulders.
“Hewasextravagant.Gotintodebt.Therewassomeothertrouble—Idon’tknowexactlywhat.Theyquarrelled.LordEdgwareforbadehimthehouse.That’sall.”
Hermouthclosedfirmly.Evidentlysheintendedtosaynomore.
Theroomwehadinteviewedherinwasonthefirstfloor.Asweleftit,Poirottookmebythearm.
“Alittleminute.Remainhereifyouwill,Hastings.IamgoingdownwithJapp.Watchtillwehavegoneintothelibrary,thenjoinusthere.”
IhavelongagogivenupaskingPoirotquestionsbeginning“Why?”LiketheLightBrigade“Minenottoreasonwhy,minebuttodoordie,”thoughfortunatelyithasnotyetcometodying!Ithoughtthatpossiblyhesuspectedthebutlerofspyingonhimandwantedtoknowifsuchwerereallythecase.
Itookupmystandlookingoverthebanisters.PoirotandJappwentfirsttothefrontdoor—outofmysight.Thentheyreappearedwalkingslowlyalongthehall.Ifollowedtheirbackswithmyeyeuntiltheyhadgoneintothelibrary.Iwaitedaminuteortwoincasethebutlerappeared,buttherewasnosignofanyone,soIrandownthestairsandjoinedthem.
Thebodyhad,ofcourse,beenremoved.Thecurtainsweredrawnandtheelectriclightwason.PoirotandJappwerestandinginthemiddleoftheroomlookingroundthem.
“Nothinghere,”Jappwassaying.
AndPoirotrepliedwithasmile:
“Alas!notthecigaretteash—northefootprint—noralady’sglove—norevenalingeringperfume!Nothingthatthedetectiveoffictionsoconvenientlyfinds.”
“Thepolicearealwaysmadeouttobeasblindasbatsindetectivestories,”saidJappwithagrin.
“Ifoundaclueonce,”saidPoirotdreamily.“Butsinceitwasfourfeetlonginsteadoffourcentimetresnoonewouldbelieveinit.”
Irememberedthecircumstanceandlaughed.ThenIrememberedmymission.
“It’sallright,Poirot,”Isaid.“Iwatched,butnoonewasspyinguponyouasfarasIcouldsee.”
“TheeyesofmyfriendHastings,”saidPoirotinakindofgentlemockery.“Tellme,myfriend,didyounoticetherosebetweenmylips?”
“Therosebetweenyourlips?”Iaskedinastonishment.Jappturnedasidesplutteringwithlaughter.
“You’llbethedeathofme,M.Poirot,”hesaid.“Thedeathofme.Arose.Whatnext?”
“IhadthefancytopretendIwasCarmen,”saidPoirotquiteundisturbed.
IwonderediftheyweregoingmadorifIwas.
“Youdidnotobserveit,Hastings?”TherewasreproachinPoirot’svoice.
“No,”Isaid,staring.“ButthenIcouldn’tseeyourface.”
“Nomatter.”Heshookhisheadgently
Weretheymakingfunofme?
“Well,”saidJapp.“Nomoretodohere,Ifancy.I’dliketoseethedaughteragainifIcould.Shewastooupsetbeforeformetogetanythingoutofher.”
Herangthebellforthebutler.
“AskMissMarshifIcanseeherforafewmoments?”
Themandeparted.Itwasnothe,however,butMissCarrollwhoenteredtheroomafewminuteslater.
“Geraldineisasleep,”shesaid.“She’shadaterribleshock,poorchild.AfteryouleftIgavehersomethingtomakehersleepandshe’sfastasleepnow.Inanhourortwo,perhaps.”
Jappagreed.
“Inanycasethere’snothingshecantellyouthatIcan’t,”saidMissCarrollfirmly.
“Whatisyouropinionofthebutler?”askedPoirot.
“Idon’tlikehimmuchandthat’safact,”repliedMissCarroll.“ButIcan’ttellyouwhy.”
Wehadreachedthefrontdoor.
“Itwasuptherethatyoustood,wasitnot,lastnight,Mademoiselle?”saidPoirotsuddenly,pointingwithhishandsupthestairs.
“Yes.Why?”
“AndyousawLadyEdgwaregoalongthehallintothestudy?”
“Yes.”
“Andyousawherfacedistinctly?”
“Certainly.”
“Butyoucouldnothaveseenherface,Mademoiselle.Youcanonlyhaveseenthebackofherheadfromwhereyouwerestanding.”
MissCarrollflushedangrily.Sheseemedtakenaback.
“Backofherhead,hervoice,herwalk!It’sallthesamething.Absolutelyunmistakable!ItellyouIknowitwasJaneWilkinson—athoroughlybadwomanifthereeverwasone.”
Andturningawaysheflouncedupstairs.
Eight
POSSIBILITIES
Japphadtoleaveus.PoirotandIturnedintoRegent’sParkandfoundaquietseat.
“Iseethepointofyourrosebetweenthelipsnow,”Isaid,laughing.“AtthemomentIthoughtyouhadgonemad.”
Henoddedwithoutsmiling.
“Youobserve,Hastings,thatthesecretaryisadangerouswitness,dangerousbecauseinaccurate.Younoticethatshestatedpositivelythatshesawthevisitor’sface?AtthetimeIthoughtthatimpossible.Comingfromthestudy—yes,butnotgoingtothestudy.SoImademylittleexperimentwhichresultedasIthought,andthensprungmytrapuponher.Sheimmediatelychangedherground.”
“Herbeliefwasquiteunaltered,though,”Iargued.“Andafterall,avoiceandawalkarejustasunmistakable.”
“No,no.”
“Why,Poirot,Ithinkavoiceandthegeneralgaitareaboutthemostcharacteristicthingsaboutaperson.”
“Iagree.Andthereforetheyarethemosteasilycounterfeited.”
“Youthink—”
“Castyourmindbackafewdays.Doyourememberoneeveningaswesatinthestallsofatheatre—”
“CarlottaAdams?Ah!butthensheisagenius.”
“Awell-knownpersonisnotsodifficulttomimic.ButIagreeshehasunusualgifts.Ibelieveshecouldcarryathingthroughwithouttheaidoffootlightsanddistance—”
Asuddenthoughtflashedintomymind.
“Poirot,”Icried.“Youdon’tthinkthatpossibly—no,thatwouldbetoomuchofacoincidence.”
“Itdependshowyoulookatit,Hastings.Regardedfromoneangleitwouldbenocoincidenceatall.”
“ButwhyshouldCarlottaAdamswishtokillLordEdgware?Shedidnotevenknowhim.”
“Howdoyouknowshedidnotknowhim?Donotassumethings,Hastings.Theremayhavebeensomelinkbetweenthemofwhichweknownothing.Notthatthatispreciselymytheory.”
“Thenyouhaveatheory?”
“Yes.ThepossibilityofCarlottaAdamsbeinginvolvedstruckmefromthebeginning.”
“But,Poirot—”
“Wait,Hastings.Letmeputtogetherafewfactsforyou.LadyEdgware,withacompletelackofreticence,discussestherelationsbetweenherandherhusband,andevengoessofarastotalkofkillinghim.NotonlyyouandIhearthis.Awaiterhearsit,hermaidprobablyhashearditmanytimes,BryanMartinhearsit,andIimagineCarlottaAdamsherselfhearsit.Andtherearethepeopletowhomthesepeoplerepeatit.Then,inthatsameevening,theexcellenceofCarlottaAdams’imitationofJaneiscommentedupon.WhohadamotiveforkillingLordEdgware?Hiswife
“NowsupposingthatsomeoneelsewishestodoawaywithLordEdgware.Hereisascapegoatreadytohishand.OnthedaywhenJaneWilkinsonannouncedthatshehadaheadacheandisgoingtohaveaquietevening—theplanisputintooperation.
“LadyEdgwaremustbeseentoenterthehouseinRegentGate.Well,sheisseen.Sheevengoessofarastoannounceheridentity.Ah!c’estpeutrop,?a!Itwouldawakensuspicioninanoyster.
“Andanotherpoint—asmallpoint,Iadmit.Thewomanwhocametothehouselastnightworeblack.JaneWilkinsonneverwearsblack.Weheardhersayso.Letusassume,then,thatthewomanwhocametothehouselastnightwasnotJaneWilkinson—thatitwasawomanimpersonatingJaneWilkinson.DidthatwomankillLordEdgware?
“DidathirdpersonenterthathouseandkillLordEdgware?Ifso,didthepersonenterbeforeorafterthesupposedvisitofLadyEdgware?Ifafter,whatdidthewomansaytoLordEdgware?Howdidsheexplainherpresence?Shemightdeceivethebutlerwhodidnotknowher,andthesecretarywhodidnotseeheratclosequarters.Butshecouldnothopetodeceiveherhusband.Orwasthereonlyadeadbodyintheroom?WasLordEdgwarekilledbeforesheenteredthehouse—sometimebetweennineandten?”
“Stop,Poirot!”Icried.“Youaremakingmyheadspin.”
“No,no,myfriend.Weareonlyconsideringpossibilities.Itisliketryingontheclothes.Doesthisfit!No,itwrinklesontheshoulder?Thisone?Yes,thatisbetter—butnotquitelargeenough.Thisotheroneistoosmall.Soonandsoon—untilwereachtheperfectfit—thetruth.”
“Whodoyoususpectofsuchafiendishplot?”Iasked.
“Ah!thatistooearlytosay.OnemustgointothequestionofwhohasamotiveforwishingLordEdgwaredead.Thereis,ofcourse,thenephewwhoinherits.Alittleobviousthat,perhaps.AndtheninspiteofMissCarroll’sdogmaticpronouncement,thereisthequestionofenemies.LordEdgwarestruckmeasamanwhoveryeasilymightmakeenemies.”
“Yes,”Iagreed.“Thatisso.”
“Whoeveritwasmusthavefanciedhimselfprettysafe.Remember,Hastings,butforherchangeofmindatthelastminute,JaneWilkinsonwouldhavehadnoalibi.ShemighthavebeeninherroomattheSavoy,anditwouldhavebeendifficulttoproveit.Shewouldhavebeenarrested,tried—probablyhanged.”
Ishivered.
“Butthereisonethingthatpuzzlesme,”wentonPoirot.“Thedesiretoincriminateherisclear—butwhatthenofthetelephonecall?WhydidsomeoneringherupatChiswickand,oncesatisfiedofherpresencethere,immediatelyringoff.Itlooks,doesitnot,asifsomeonewantedtobesureofherpresencetherebeforeproceedingto—what?Thatwasatninethirty,almostcertainlybeforethemurder.Theintentionthenseems—thereisnootherwordforit—beneficent.Itcannotbethemurdererwhoringsup—themurdererhaslaidallhisplanstoincriminateJane.Who,then,wasit?Itlooksasthoughwehaveheretwoentirelydifferentsetsofcircumstances.”
Ishookmyhead,utterlyfogged.
“Itmightbejustacoincidence,”Isuggested.
“No,no,everythingcannotbeacoincidence.Sixmonthsago,aletterwassuppressed.Why?Therearetoomanythingshereunexplained.Theremustbesomereasonlinkingthemtogether.”
Hesighed.Presentlyhewenton:
“ThatstorythatBryanMartincametotellus—”
“Surely,Poirot,thathasgotnoconnectionwiththisbusiness.”
“Youareblind,Hastings,blindandwilfullyobtuse.Doyounotseethatthewholethingmakesapattern?Apatternconfusedatpresentbutwhichwillgraduallybecomeclear….”
IfeltPoirotwasbeingoveroptimistic.Ididnotfeelthatanythingwouldeverbecomeclear.Mybrainwasfranklyreeling.
“It’snogood,”Isaidsuddenly.“Ican’tbelieveitofCarlottaAdams.Sheseemedsucha—well,suchathoroughlynicegirl.”
Yet,evenasIspoke,IrememberedPoirot’swordsaboutloveofmoney.Loveofmoney—wasthatattherootoftheseeminglyincomprehensible?IfeltthatPoirothadbeeninspiredthatnight.HehadseenJaneindanger—theresultofthestrangeegotisticaltemperament.HehadseenCarlottaledastraybyavarice.
“Idonotthinkshecommittedthemurder,Hastings.Sheistoocoolandlevelheadedforthat.Possiblyshewasnoteventoldthatmurderwouldbedone.Shemayhavebeenusedinnocently.Butthen—”
Hebrokeoff,frowning.
“Evenso,she’sanaccessoryafterthefactnow.Imean,shewillseethenewstoday.Shewillrealize—”
AhoarsesoundbrokefromPoirot.
“Quick,Hastings.Quick!Ihavebeenblind—imbecile.Ataxi.Atonce.”
Istaredathim.
Hewavedhisarms.
“Ataxi—atonce.”
Onewaspassing.Hehaileditandwejumpedin.
“Doyouknowheraddress?”
“CarlottaAdams,doyoumean?”
“Maisoui,maisoui.Quickly,Hastings,quickly.Everyminuteisofvalue.Doyounotsee?”
“No,”Isaid.“Idon’t.”
Poirotsworeunderhisbreath.
“Thetelephonebook?No,shewouldnotbeinit.Thetheatre.”
AtthetheatretheywerenotdisposedtogiveCarlotta’saddress,butPoirotmanagedit.ItwasaflatinablockofmansionsnearSloaneSquare.Wedrovethere,Poirotinafeverofimpatience.
“IfIamnottoolate,Hastings.IfIamnottoolate.”
“Whatisallthishaste?Idon’tunderstand.Whatdoesitmean?”
“ItmeansthatIhavebeenslow.Terriblyslowtorealizetheobvious.Ah!monDieu,ifonlywemaybeintime.”
Nine
THESECONDDEATH
ThoughIdidnotunderstandthereasonforPoirot’sagitation,Iknewhimwellenoughtobesurethathehadareasonforit.
WearrivedatRosedewMansions,Poirotsprangout,paidthedriverandhurriedintothebuilding.MissAdams’flatwasonthefirstfloor,asavisitingcardstuckonaboardinformedus.
Poirothurriedupthestairs,notwaitingtosummontheliftwhichwasatoneoftheupperfloors.
Heknockedandrang.Therewasashortdelay,thenthedoorwasopenedbyaneatmiddle-agedwomanwithhairdrawntightlybackfromherface.Hereyelidswerereddenedasthoughwithweeping.
“MissAdams?”demandedPoiroteagerly
Thewomanlookedathim.
“Haven’tyouheard?”
“Heard?Heardwhat?”
Hisfacehadgonedeadlypale,andIrealizedthatthis,whateveritwas,waswhathehadfeared.
Thewomancontinuedslowlytoshakeherhead.
“She’sdead.Passedawayinhersleep.It’sterrible.”
Poirotleanedagainstthedoorpost.
“Toolate,”hemurmured.
Hisagitationwassoapparentthatthewomanlookedathimwithmoreattention
“Excuseme,sir,butareyouafriendofhers?Idonotrememberseeingyoucomeherebefore?”
Poirotdidnotreplytothisdirectly.Insteadhesaid:
“Youhavehadadoctor?Whatdidhesay?”
“Tookanoverdoseofasleepingdraught.Oh!thepityofit!Suchaniceyounglady.Nastydangerousthings—thesedrugs.Veronalhesaiditwas.”
Poirotsuddenlystoodupright.Hismannertookonanewauthority.
“Imustcomein,”hesaid.
Thewomanwasclearlydoubtfulandsuspicious.
“Idon’tthink—”shebegan.
ButPoirotmeanttohavehisway.Hetookprobablytheonlycoursethatwouldhaveobtainedthedesiredresult.
“Youmustletmein,”hesaid.“IamadetectiveandIhavegottoinquireintothecircumstancesofyourmistress’sdeath.”
Thewomangasped.Shestoodasideandwepassedintotheflat.
FromthereonPoirottookcommandofthesituation.
“WhatIhavetoldyou,”hesaidauthoritatively,“isstrictlyconfidential.Itmustnotberepeated.EveryonemustcontinuetothinkthatMissAdams’deathwasaccidental.Pleasegivemethenameandaddressofthedoctoryousummoned.”
“Dr.Heath,17CarlisleStreet.”
“Andyourownname?”
“Bennett—AliceBennett.”
“YouwereattachedtoMissAdams,Icansee,MissBennett.”
“Oh!yes,sir.Shewereaniceyounglady.Iworkedforherlastyearwhenshewereoverhere.Itwasn’tasthoughshewereoneofthoseactresses.Shewerearealyounglady.Daintywaysshehadandlikedeverythingjustso.”
Poirotlistenedwithattentionandsympathy.Hehadnownosignsofimpatience.Irealizedthattoproceedgentlywasthebestwayofextractingtheinformationhewanted.
“Itmusthavebeenagreatshocktoyou,”heobservedgently.
“Oh!itwas,sir.Itookherinhertea—athalfpastnineasusualandthereshewaslying—asleepIthought.AndIputthetraydown.AndIpulledthecurtains—oneoftheringscaught,sir,andIhadtojerkithard.Suchanoiseitmade.IwassurprisedwhenIlookedroundtoseeshehadn’twoken.Andthenallofasuddensomethingseemedtotakeholdofme.Somethingnotquitenaturalaboutthewayshelay.AndIwenttothesideofthebed,andItouchedherhand.Icycolditwas,sir,andIcriedout.”
Shestopped,tearscomingintohereyes
“Yes,yes,”saidPoirotsympathetically.“Itmusthavebeenterribleforyou.DidMissAdamsoftentakestufftomakehersleep?”
“She’dtakesomethingforaheadachenowandagain,sir.Somelittletabletsinabottle,butitwassomeotherstuffshetooklastnight,orsothedoctorsaid.”
“Didanyonecometoseeherlastnight?Avisitor?”
“No,sir.Shewasoutyesterdayevening,sir.”
“Didshetellyouwhereshewasgoing?”
“No,sir.Shewentoutaboutseveno’clock.”
“Ah!Howwasshedressed?”
“Shehadonablackdress,sir.Ablackdressandablackhat.”
Poirotlookedatme.
“Didshewearanyjewellery?”
“Justthestringofpearlsshealwayswore,sir.”
“Andgloves—greygloves?”
“Yes,sir.Herglovesweregrey.”
“Ah!Nowdescribetome,ifyouwill,whathermannerwas.Wasshegay?Excited?Sad?Nervous?”
“Itseemedtomeshewaspleasedaboutsomething,sir.Shekeptsmilingtoherself,asthoughthereweresomekindofjokeon.”
“Whattimedidshereturn?”
“Alittleaftertwelveo’clock,sir.”
“Andwhatwashermannerthen?Thesame?”
“Shewasterriblytired,sir.”
“Butnotupset?Ordistressed?”
“Oh!no,sir.Ithinkshewaspleasedaboutsomething,butjustdoneup,ifyouknowwhatImean.Shestartedtoringsomeoneuponthetelephone,andthenshesaidshecouldn’tbother.She’ddoittomorrowmorning.”
“Ah!”Poirot’seyesgleamedwithexcitement.Heleanedforwardandspokeinawould-beindifferentvoice.
“Didyouhearthenameofthepersonsherangup?”
“No,sir.Shejustaskedforthenumberandwaitedandthentheexchangemusthavesaid:‘I’mtryingtogetthem’astheydo,sir,andshesaid:‘Allright,’andthensuddenlysheyawnedandsaid:‘Oh!Ican’tbother.I’mtootired,’andsheputthereceiverbackandstartedundressing.”
“Andthenumbershecalled?Doyourecollectthat?Think.Itmaybeimportant.”
“I’msorryIcan’tsay,sir.ItwasaVictorianumberandthat’sallIcanremember.Iwasn’tpayingspecialheed,yousee.”
“Didshehaveanythingtoeatordrinkbeforeshewenttobed?”
“Aglassofhotmilk,sir,likeshealwaysdid.”
“Whopreparedit?”
“Idid,sir.”
“Andnobodycametotheflatthatevening?”
“Nobody,sir.”
“Andearlierintheday?”
“NobodycamethatIcanremember,sir.MissAdamswasouttolunchandtea.Shecameinatsixo’clock.”
“Whendidthemilkcome?Themilkshedranklastnight?”
“Itwasthenewmilkshehad,sir.Theafternoondelivery.Theboyleavesitoutsidethedooratfouro’clock.But,oh!sir,I’msuretherewasn’tnothingwrongwiththemilk.Ihaditmyselfforteathismorning.Andthedoctorhesaidpositiveasshe’dtakenthenastystuffherself.”
“ItispossiblethatIamwrong,”saidPoirot.“Yes,itispossiblethatIamentirelywrong.Iwillseethedoctor.Butyousee,MissAdamshadenemies.ThingsareverydifferentinAmerica—”
Hehesitated,butthegoodAliceleaptatthebait.
“Oh!Iknow,sir.I’vereadaboutChicagoandthemgunmenandallthat.Itmustbeawickedcountryandwhatthepolicecanbeabout,Ican’tthink.Notlikeourpolicemen.”
Poirotleftitthankfullyatthat,realizingthatAliceBennett’sinsularproclivitieswouldsavehimthetroubleofexplanations.
Hiseyefellonasmallsuitcase—moreofanattachécase,thatwaslyingonachair.
“DidMissAdamstakethatwithherwhenshewentoutlastnight?”
“Inthemorningshetookit,sir.Shedidn’thaveitwhenshecamebackatteatime,butshebroughtitbacklastthing.”
“Ah!YoupermitthatIopenit?”
AliceBennettwouldhavepermittedanything.Likemostcannyandsuspiciouswomen,onceshehadovercomeherdistrustshewaschild’splaytomanipulate.ShewouldhaveassentedtoanythingPoirotsuggested.
Thecasewasnotlocked,Poirotopenedit.Icameforwardandlookedoverhisshoulder.
“Yousee,Hastings,yousee?”hemurmuredexcitedly.
Thecontentswerecertainlysuggestive.
Therewasaboxofmakeupmaterials,twoobjectswhichIrecognizedaselevatorstoplaceinshoesandraisetheheightaninchorso,therewasapairofgreyglovesand,foldedintissuepaper,anexquisitelymadewigofgoldenhair,theexactshadeofgoldofJaneWilkinson’sanddressedlikeherswithacentrepartingandcurlsinthebackoftheneck.
“Doyoudoubtnow,Hastings?”askedPoirot.
IbelieveIhaduptothatmoment.ButnowIdoubtednolonger.
Poirotclosedthecaseagainandturnedtothemaid.
“YoudonotknowwithwhomMissAdamsdinedyesterdayevening?”
“No,sir.”
“Doyouknowwithwhomshehadlunchortea?”
“Iknownothingabouttea,sir.IbelieveshelunchedwithMissDriver.”
“MissDriver?”
“Yes,hergreatfriend.ShehasahatshopinMoffatStreet,justoffBondStreet.Genevieveit’scalled.”
Poirotnotedtheaddressinhisnotebookjustbelowthatofthedoctor.
“Onethingmore,Madame.Canyourememberanything—anythingatall—thatMademoiselleAdamssaidordidaftershecameinatsixo’clockthatstrikesyouasatallunusualorsignificant?”
Themaidthoughtforamomentortwo.
“Ireallycan’tsaythatIdo,sir,”shesaidatlast.“Iaskedherifshewouldhaveteaandshesaidshe’dhadsome.”
“Oh!shesaidshehadhadit,”interruptedPoirot.“Pardon.Continue.”
“Andafterthatshewaswritingletterstilljustonthetimeshewentout.”
“Letters,eh?Youdonotknowtowhom?”
“Yes,sir.Itwasjustoneletter—tohersisterinWashington.Shewrotetohersistertwiceaweekregular.Shetooktheletteroutwithhertopostbecauseofcatchingthemail.Butsheforgotit.”
“Thenitisherestill?”
“No,sir.Ipostedit.Sherememberedlastnightjustasshewasgettingintobed.AndIsaidI’drunoutwithit.Byputtinganextrastamponitandputtingitinthelatefeeboxitwouldbeallright.”
“Ah!—andisthatfar?”
“No,sir,thepostofficeisjustaroundthecorner.”
“Didyoushutthedooroftheflatbehindyou?”
Bennettstared.
“No,sir.Ijustleftitto—asIalwaysdowhenIgoouttopost.”
Poirotseemedabouttospeak—thencheckedhimself.
“Wouldyouliketolookather,sir?”askedthemaidtearfully.“Looksbeautifulshedoes.”
Wefollowedherintothebedroom.
CarlottaAdamslookedstrangelypeacefulandmuchyoungerthanshehadappearedthatnightattheSavoy.Shelookedlikeatiredchildasleep.
TherewasastrangeexpressiononPoirot’sfaceashestoodlookingdownonher.IsawhimmakethesignoftheCross.
“J’aifaitunserment,Hastings,”hesaidaswewentdownthestairs.
Ididnotaskhimwhathisvowwas.Icouldguess.
Aminuteortwolaterhesaid:
“Thereisonethingoffmymindatleast.Icouldnothavesavedher.BythetimeIheardofLordEdgware’sdeathshewasalreadydead.Thatcomfortsme.Yes,thatcomfortsmeverymuch.”
Ten
JENNYDRIVER
Ournextproceedingwastocalluponthedoctorwhoseaddressthemaidhadgivenus.
Heturnedouttobeafussyelderlymansomewhatvagueinmanner.HeknewPoirotbyreputeandexpressedalivelypleasureatmeetinghimintheflesh.
“AndwhatcanIdoforyou,M.Poirot?”heaskedafterthisopeningpreamble
“Youwerecalledthismorning,M.ledocteur,tothebedsideofaMissCarlottaAdams.”
“Ah!yes,poorgirl.Cleveractresstoo.I’vebeentwicetohershow.Athousandpitiesit’sendedthisway.WhythesegirlsmusthavedrugsIcan’tthink.”
“Youthinkshewasaddictedtodrugs,then?”
“Well,professionally,Ishouldhardlyhavesaidso.Atalleventsshedidn’ttakethemhypodermically.Nomarksoftheneedle.Evidentlyalwaystookitbythemouth.Maidsaidshesleptwellnaturally,butthenmaidsneverknow.Idon’tsupposeshetookveronaleverynight,butshe’devidentlytakenitforsometime.”
“Whatmakesyouthinkso?”
“This,dashit—wheredidIputthething?”
Hewaspeeringintoasmallcase.
“Ah!hereitis.”
Hedrewoutasmallblackmoroccohandbag.
“There’sgottobeaninquest,ofcourse.Ibroughtthisawaysothatthemaidshouldn’tmeddlewithit.”
Openingthepochettehetookoutasmallgoldbox.OnitweretheinitialsC.A.inrubies.Itwasavaluableandexpensivetrinket.Thedoctoropenedit.Itwasnearlyfullofawhitepowder.
“Veronal,”heexplainedbriefly.“Nowlookwhat’swritteninside.”
Ontheinsideofthelidoftheboxwasengraved:
C.A.fromD.Paris,Nov.10th.SweetDreams.
“November10th,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.
“Exactly,andwe’renowinJune.Thatseemstoshowthatshe’sbeeninthehabitoftakingthestuffforatleastsixmonths,andastheyearisn’tgiven,itmightbeeighteenmonthsortwoyearsandahalf—oranytime.”
“Paris.D,”saidPoirot,frowning.
“Yes.Conveyanythingtoyou?Bytheway,Ihaven’taskedyouwhatyourinterestisinthecase.I’massumingyou’vegotgoodgrounds.Isupposeyouwanttoknowifit’ssuicide?Well,Ican’ttellyou.Nobodycan.Accordingtothemaid’saccountshewasperfectlycheerfulyesterday.Thatlookslikeaccident,andinmyopinionaccidentitis.Veronal’sveryuncertainstuff.Youcantakeadevilofalotanditwon’tkillyou,andyoucantakeverylittleandoffyougo.It’sadangerousdrugforthatreason.
“I’venodoubtthey’llbringitinAccidentalDeathattheinquest.I’mafraidIcan’tbeofanymorehelptoyou.”
“MayIexaminethelittlebagofMademoiselle?”
“Certainly.Certainly.”
Poirotturnedoutthecontentsofthepochette.TherewasafinehandkerchiefwithC.M.A.inthecorner,apowderpuff,alipstick,apoundnoteandalittlechange,andapairofpince-nez.
TheselastPoirotexaminedwithinterest.Theyweregold-rimmedandrathersevereandacademicintype.
“Curious,”saidPoirot.“IdidnotknowthatMissAdamsworeglasses.Butperhapstheyareforreading?”
Thedoctorpickedthemup.
“No,theseareoutdoorglasses,”heaffirmed.“Prettypowerfultoo.Thepersonwhoworethesemusthavebeenveryshortsighted.”
“YoudonotknowifMissAdams—”
“Ineverattendedherbefore.Iwascalledinoncetoseeapoisonedfingerofthemaid’s.OtherwiseIhaveneverbeenintheflat.MissAdamswhomIsawforamomentonthatoccasionwascertainlynotwearingglassesthen.”
Poirotthankedthedoctorandwetookourleave.
Poirotworeapuzzledexpression.
“ItcanbethatIammistaken,”headmitted.
“Abouttheimpersonation?”
“No,no.Thatseemstomeproved.No,Imeanastoherdeath.Obviouslyshehadveronalinherpossession.Itispossiblethatshewastiredandstrunguplastnightanddeterminedtoensureherselfagoodnight’srest.”
Thenhesuddenlystoppeddead—tothegreatsurpriseofthepassersby—andbeatonehandemphaticallyontheother.
“No,no,no,no!”hedeclaredemphatically.“Whyshouldthataccidenthappensoconveniently?Itwasnoaccident.Itwasnotsuicide.No,sheplayedherpartandindoingsoshesignedherdeathwarrant.Veronalmayhavebeenchosensimplybecauseitwasknownthatsheoccasionallytookitandthatshehadthatboxinherpossession.But,ifso,themurderermusthavebeensomeonewhoknewherwell.WhoisD,Hastings?IwouldgiveagooddealtoknowwhoDwas.”
“Poirot,”Isaid,asheremainedraptinthought.“Hadn’twebettergoon?Everyoneisstaringatus.”
“Eh?Well,perhapsyouareright.Thoughitdoesnotincommodemethatpeopleshouldstare.Itdoesnotinterfereintheleastwithmytrainofthought.”
“Peoplewerebeginningtolaugh,”Imurmured.
“Thathasnoimportance.”
Ididnotquiteagree.Ihaveahorrorofdoinganythingconspicuous.TheonlythingthataffectsPoirotisthepossibilityofthedamportheheataffectingthesetofhisfamousmoustache.
“Wewilltakeataxi,”saidPoirot,wavinghisstick.
Onedrewupbyus,andPoirotdirectedittogoGenevieveinMoffatStreet.
Genevieveturnedouttobeoneofthoseestablishmentswhereonenondescripthatandascarfdisplaythemselvesinaglassboxdownstairsandwheretherealcentreofoperationsisonefloorupaflightofmusty-smellingstairs.
Havingclimbedthestairswecametoadoorwith“Genevieve.PleaseWalkIn”onit,andhavingobeyedthiscommandwefoundourselvesinasmallroomfullofhatswhileanimposingblondecreaturecameforwardwithasuspiciousglanceatPoirot.
“MissDriver?”askedPoirot.
“IdonotknowifModomcanseeyou.Whatisyourbusiness,please?”
“PleasetellMissDriverthatafriendofMissAdamswouldliketoseeher.”
Theblondebeautyhadnoneedtogoonthiserrand.Ablackvelvetcurtainwasviolentlyagitatedandasmallvivaciouscreaturewithflamingredhairemerged.
“What’sthat?”shedemanded.
“AreyouMissDriver?”
“Yes.What’sthataboutCarlotta?”
“Youhaveheardthesadnews?”
“Whatsadnews?”
“MissAdamsdiedinhersleeplastnight.Anoverdoseofveronal.”
Thegirl’seyesopenedwide.
“Howawful!”sheexclaimed.“PoorCarlotta.Icanhardlybelieveit.Why,shewasfulloflifeyesterday.”
“Neverthelessitistrue,Mademoiselle,”saidPoirot.“Nowsee—itisjustononeo’clock.Iwantyoutodomethehonourofcomingouttolunchwithmeandmyfriend.Iwanttoaskyouseveralquestions.”
Thegirllookedhimupanddown.Shewasapugilisticlittlecreature.Sheremindedmeinsomewaysofafoxterrier.
“Whoareyou?”shedemandedbluntly.
“MynameisHerculePoirot.ThisismyfriendCaptainHastings.”
Ibowed.
Herglancetravelledfromonetotheotherofus.
“I’veheardofyou,”shesaidabruptly.“I’llcome.”
Shecalledtotheblonde:
“Dorothy?”
“Yes,Jenny.”
“Mrs.Lester’scominginaboutthatRoseDescartesmodelwe’remakingforher.Trythedifferentfeathers.Bye-bye,shan’tbelong,Iexpect.”
Shepickedupasmallblackhat,affixedittooneear,powderedhernosefuriously,andthenlookedatPoirot.
“Ready,”shesaidabruptly.
FiveminutesafterwardsweweresittinginasmallrestaurantinDoverStreet.Poirothadgivenanordertothewaiterandcocktailswereinfrontofus.
“Now,”saidJennyDriver.“Iwanttoknowthemeaningofallthis.WhathasCarlottabeengettingherselfmixedupin?”
“Shehadbeengettingherselfmixedupinsomething,then,Mademoiselle?”
“Nowthen,whoisgoingtoaskthequestions,youorme?”
“MyideawasthatIshould,”saidPoirot,smiling.“IhavebeengiventounderstandthatyouandMissAdamsweregreatfriends.”
“Right.”
“Ehbien,thenIaskyou,Mademoiselle,toacceptmysolemnassurancethatwhatIdo,Iamdoingintheinterestsofyourdeadfriend.Iassureyouthatthatisso.”
Therewasamoment’ssilencewhileJennyDriverconsideredthisquestion.Finallyshegaveaquickassentingnodofthehead.
“Ibelieveyou.Carryon.Whatdoyouwanttoknow?”
“Iunderstand,Mademoiselle,thatyourfriendlunchedwithyouyesterday.”
“Shedid.”
“Didshetellyouwhatherplanswereforlastnight?”
“Shedidn’texactlymentionlastnight.”
“Butshesaidsomething?”
“Well,shementionedsomethingthatmaybeiswhatyou’redrivingat.Mindyou,shespokeinconfidence.”
“Thatisunderstood.”
“Well,letmeseenow.IthinkI’dbetterexplainthingsinmyownwords.”
“Ifyouplease,Mademoiselle.”
“Well,then,Carlottawasexcited.Sheisn’toftenexcited.She’snotthatkind.Shewouldn’ttellmeanythingdefinite,saidshe’dpromisednotto,butshe’dgotsomethingon.SomethingIgathered,inthenatureofagigantichoax.”
“Ahoax?”
“That’swhatshesaid.Shedidn’tsayhoworwhenorwhere.Only—”Shepaused,frowning.“Well—yousee—Carlotta’snotthekindofpersonwhoenjoyspracticaljokesorhoaxesorthingsofthatkind.She’soneofthoseserious,nice-minded,hard-workinggirls.WhatImeanis,somebodyhadobviouslyputheruptothisstunt.AndIthink—shedidn’tsayso,mind—”
“No,no,Iquiteunderstand.Whatwasitthatyouthought?”
“Ithought—Iwassure—thatinsomewaymoneywasconcerned.NothingreallyeverexcitedCarlottaexceptmoney.Shewasmadethatway.She’dgotoneofthebestheadsforbusinessI’veevermet.Shewouldn’thavebeensoexcitedandsopleasedunlessmoney—quitealotofmoney—hadbeenconcerned.Myimpressionwasthatshe’dtakenonsomethingforabet—andthatshewasprettysureofwinning.Andyetthatisn’tquitetrue.Imean,Carlottadidn’tbet.I’veneverknownhermakeabet.Butanyway,somehoworother,I’msuremoneywasconcerned.”
“Shedidnotactuallysayso?”
“N-no-o.Justsaidthatshe’dbeabletodothis,thatandtheotherinthenearfuture.ShewasgoingtogethersisteroverfromAmericatomeetherinParis.Shewascrazyaboutherlittlesister.Verydelicate,Ibelieve,andmusical.Wellthat’sallIknow.Isthatwhatyouwant?”
Poirotnoddedhishead.
“Yes.Itconfirmsmytheory.Ihadhoped,Iadmit,formore.IhadanticipatedthatMissAdamswouldhavebeenboundtosecrecy.ButIhopedthat,beingawoman,shewouldnothavecountedrevealingthesecrettoherbestfriend.”
“Itriedtomakehertellme,”admittedJenny.“Butsheonlylaughedandsaidshe’dtellmeaboutitsomeday.”
Poirotwassilentforamoment.Thenhesaid:
“YouknowthenameofLordEdgware?”
“What?Themanwhowasmurdered?Onaposterhalfanhourago.”
“Yes.DoyouknowifMissAdamswasacquaintedwithhim?”
“Idon’tthinkso.I’msureshewasn’t.Oh!waitaminute.”
“Yes,Mademoiselle?”saidPoiroteagerly.
“Whatwasitnow?”Shefrowned,knittingherbrowasshetriedtoremember.“Yes,I’vegotitnow.Shementionedhimonce.Verybitterly.”
“Bitterly?”
“Yes.Shesaid—whatwasit?—thatmenlikethatshouldn’tbeallowedtoruinotherpeople’slivesbytheircrueltyandlackofunderstanding.Shesaid—why,soshedid—thathewasthekindofmanwhosedeathwouldprobablybeagoodthingforeverybody.”
“Whenwasitshesaidthis,Mademoiselle?”
“Oh!aboutamonthago,Ithinkitwas.”
“Howdidthesubjectcomeup?”
JennyDriverrackedherbrainsforsomeminutesandfinallyshookherhead.
“Ican’tremember,”sheconfessed.“Hisnamecroppeduporsomething.Itmighthavebeeninthenewspaper.Anyway,IrememberthinkingitoddthatCarlottashouldbesovehementallofasuddenwhenshedidn’tevenknowtheman.”
“Certainlyitisodd,”agreedPoirotthoughtfully.Thenheasked:
“DoyouknowifMissAdamswasinthehabitoftakingveronal?”
“NotthatIknew.Ineversawhertakeitormentiontakingit.”
“DidyoueverseeinherbagasmallgoldboxwiththeinitialsC.A.onitinrubies?”
“Asmallgoldbox—no.IamsureIdidn’t.”
“DoyouhappentoknowwhereMissAdamswaslastNovember?”
“Letmesee.ShewentbacktotheStatesinNovember,Ithink—towardstheendofthemonth.BeforethatshewasinParis.”
“Alone?”
“Alone,ofcourse!Sorry—perhapsyoudidn’tmeanthat!Idon’tknowwhyanymentionofParisalwayssuggeststheworst.Andit’ssuchanicerespectableplacereally.ButCarlottawasn’ttheweekendingsort,ifthat’swhatyou’redrivingat.”
“Now,Mademoiselle,Iamgoingtoaskyouaveryimportantquestion.WasthereanymanMissAdamswasspeciallyinterestedin?”
“Theanswertothatis‘No,’”saidJennyslowly.“Carlotta,sinceI’veknownher,hasbeenwrappedupinherworkandinherdelicatesister.She’shadthe‘headofthefamilyalldependsonme’attitudeverystrongly.Sotheanswer’sNO—strictlyspeaking.”
“Ah!andnotspeakingsostrictly?”
“Ishouldn’twonderif—lately—Carlottahadn’tbeengettinginterestedinsomeman.”
“Ah!”
“Mindyou,that’sentirelyguessworkonmypart.I’vegonesimplybyhermanner.She’sbeen—different—notexactlydreamy,butabstracted.Andshe’slookeddifferent,somehow.Oh!Ican’texplain.It’sthesortofthingthatanotherwomanjustfeels—and,ofcourse,maybequitewrongabout.”
Poirotnodded.
“Thankyou,Mademoiselle.Onethingmore.IsthereanyfriendofMissAdamswhoseinitialisD?”
“D,”saidJennyDriverthoughtfully.“D?No,I’msorry.Ican’tthinkofanyone.”
Eleven
THEEGOIST
IdonotthinkPoirothadexpectedanyotheranswertohisquestion.Allthesameheshookhisheadsadly.Heremainedlostinthought.JennyDriverleantforward,herelbowsonthetable.
“Andnow,”shesaid,“amIgoingtobetoldanything?”
“Mademoiselle,”saidPoirot.“Firstofallletmecomplimentyou.Youranswerstomyquestionshavebeensingularlyintelligent.Clearlyyouhavebrains,Mademoiselle.YouaskwhetherIamgoingtotellyouanything.Ianswer—notverymuch.Iwilltellyoujustafewbarefacts,Mademoiselle.”
Hepaused,andthensaidquietly:
“LastnightLordEdgwarewasmurderedinhislibrary.Atteno’clockyesterdayeveningaladywhomIbelievetohavebeenyourfriendMissAdamscametothehouse,askedtoseeLordEdgware,andannouncedherselfasLadyEdgware.SheworeagoldenwigandwasmadeuptoresembletherealLadyEdgwarewho,asyouprobablyknow,isMissJaneWilkinson,theactress.MissAdams(ifitwereshe)onlyremainedafewmoments.Sheleftthehouseatfiveminutespasttenbutshedidnotreturnhometillaftermidnight.Shewenttobed,havingtakenanoverdoseofveronal.Now,Mademoiselle,youseethepoint,perhaps,ofsomeofthequestionsIhavebeenaskingyou.”
Jennydrewadeepbreath.
“Yes,”shesaid,“Iseenow.Ibelieveyou’reright,M.Poirot.RightaboutitshavingbeenCarlotta,Imean.Foronething,sheboughtanewhatoffmeyesterday.”
“Anewhat?”
“Yes.Shesaidshewantedonetoshadetheleftsideofherface.”
ThereImustinsertafewwordsofexplanationasIdonotknowwhenthesewordswillberead.Ihaveseenmanyfashionsofhatsinmytime—theclochethatshadedthefacesocompletelythatonegaveupindespairthetaskofrecognizingone’sfriends.Thetiltedforwardhat,thehatattachedairilytothebackofthehead,theberet,andmanyotherstyles.InthisparticularJunethehatofthemomentwasshapedlikeaninvertedsoupplateandwaswornattached(asifbysuction)overoneear,leavingtheothersideofthefaceandhairopentoinspection.
“Thesehatsareusuallywornontherightsideofthehead?”askedPoirot.
Thelittlemodistenodded.
“Butwekeepafewtobewornontheoppositeside,”sheexplained.“Becausetherearepeoplewhomuchprefertheirrightprofiletotheleftorwhohaveahabitofpartingthehairononesideonly.Now,wouldtherebeanyspecialreasonforCarlotta’swantingthatsideofherfacetobeinshadow?”
IrememberedthatthedoorofthehouseinRegentGateopenedtotheleft,sothatanyoneenteringwouldbeinfullviewofthebutlerthatside.IrememberedalsothatJaneWilkinson(soIhadnoticedtheothernight)hadatinymoleatthecornerofthelefteye.
Isaidasmuchexcitedly.Poirotagreed,noddinghisheadvigorously.
“Itisso.Itisso.Vousavezparfaitementraison,Hastings.Yes,thatexplainsthepurchaseofthehat.”
“M.Poirot?”Jennysatsuddenlyboltupright.“Youdon’tthink—youdon’tforonemomentthink—thatCarlottadidit?Killhim,Imean.Youcan’tthinkthat?Notjustbecauseshespokesobitterlyabouthim.”
“Idonotthinkso.Butitiscurious,allthesame—thatsheshouldhavespokenso,Imean.Iwouldliketoknowthereasonforit.Whathadhedone—whatdidsheknowofhimtomakeherspeakinsuchafashion?”
“Idon’tknow—butshedidn’tkillhim.She’s—oh!shewas—well—toorefined.”
Poirotnoddedapprovingly.
“Yes,yes.Youputthatverywell.Itisapointpsychological.Iagree.Thiswasascientificcrime—butnotarefinedone.”
“Scientific?”
“Themurdererknewexactlywheretostrikesoastoreachthevitalnervecentresatthebaseoftheskullwhereitjoinsthecord.”
“Lookslikeadoctor,”saidJennythoughtfully.
“DidMissAdamsknowanydoctors?Imean,wasanyparticulardoctorafriendofhers?”
Jennyshookherhead.
“Neverheardofone.Notoverhere,anyway.”
“Anotherquestion.DidMissAdamswearpince-nez?”
“Glasses?Never.”
“Ah!”Poirotfrowned.
Avisionroseinmymind.Adoctor,smellingofcarbolic,withshortsightedeyesmagnifiedbypowerfullenses.Absurd!
“Bytheway,didMissAdamsknowBryanMartin,thefilmactor?”
“Why,yes.Sheusedtoknowhimasachild,shetoldme.Idon’tthinkshesawmuchofhim,though.Justonceinawhile.Shetoldmeshethoughthe’dgotveryswollen-headed.”
Shelookedatherwatchandutteredanexclamation.
“Goodness,Imustfly.HaveIhelpedyouatall,M.Poirot?”
“Youhave.Ishallaskyouforfurtherhelpbyandby.”
“It’syours.Someonestagedthisdevilry.We’vegottofindoutwhoitis.”
Shegaveusaquickshakeofthehand,flashedherwhiteteethinasuddensmileandleftuswithcharacteristicabruptness.
“Aninterestingpersonality,”saidPoirotashepaidthebill.
“Ilikeher,”Isaid.
“Itisalwaysapleasuretomeetaquickmind.”
“Alittlehard,perhaps,”Ireflected.“Theshockofherfriend’sdeathdidnotupsetherasmuchasIshouldhavethoughtitwouldhavedone.”
“Sheisnotthesortthatweeps,certainly,”agreedPoirotdryly.
“Didyougetwhatyouhopedfromtheinterview?”
Heshookhishead.
“No—Ihoped—verymuchIhoped—togetacluetothepersonalityofD,thepersonwhogaveherthelittlegoldbox.ThereIhavefailed.UnfortunatelyCarlottaAdamswasareservedgirl.Shewasnotonetogossipaboutherfriendsorherpossibleloveaffairs.Ontheotherhand,thepersonwhosuggestedthehoaxmaynothavebeenafriendatall.Itmayhavebeenamereacquaintancewhoproposedit—doubtlessforsome‘sporting’reason—onamoneybasis.Thispersonmayhaveseenthegoldboxshecarriedaboutwithherandmadesomeopportunitytodiscoverwhatitcontained.”
“Buthowonearthdidtheygethertotakeit?Andwhen?”
“Well,therewasthetimeduringwhichtheflatdoorwasopen—whenthemaidwasoutpostingaletter.Notthatthatsatisfiesme.Itleavestoomuchtochance.Butnow—towork.Wehavestilltwopossibleclues.”
“Whichare?”
“ThefirstisthetelephonecalltoaVictorianumber.ItseemstomequiteaprobabilitythatCarlottaAdamswouldringuponherreturntoannouncehersuccess.Ontheotherhand,wherewasshebetweenfiveminutespasttenandmidnight?Shemayhavehadanappointmentwiththeinstigatorofthehoax.Inthatcasethetelephonecallmayhavebeenmerelyonetoafriend.”
“Whatisthesecondclue?”
“Ah!thatIdohavehopesof.Theletter,Hastings.Thelettertohersister.Itispossible—Ionlysaypossible—thatinthatshemayhavedescribedthewholebusiness.Shewouldnotregarditasabreachoffaith,sincetheletterwouldnotbereadtillaweeklaterandinanothercountryatthat.”
“Amazing,ifthatisso!”
“Wemustnotbuildtoomuchuponit,Hastings.Itisachance,thatisall.No,wemustworknowfromtheotherend.”
“Whatdoyoucalltheotherend?”
“AcarefulstudyofthosewhoprofitinanydegreebyLordEdgware’sdeath.”
Ishruggedmyshoulders.
“Apartfromhisnephewandhiswife—”
“Andthemanthewifewantedtomarry,”addedPoirot.
“TheDuke?HeisinParis.”
“Quiteso.Butyoucannotdenythatheisaninterestedparty.Thentherearethepeopleinthehouse—thebutler—theservants.Whoknowswhatgrudgestheymayhavehad?ButIthinkmyselfourfirstpointofattackshouldbeafurtherinterviewwithMademoiselleJaneWilkinson.Sheisshrewd.Shemaybeabletosuggestsomething.”
OncemorewemadeourwaytotheSavoy.Wefoundtheladysurroundedbyboxesandtissuepaper,whilstexquisiteblackdraperieswerestrewnoverthebackofeverychair.Janehadaraptandseriousexpressionandwasjusttryingonyetanothersmallblackhatbeforetheglass.
“Why,M.Poirot.Sitdown.Thatis,ifthere’sanythingtositon.Ellis,clearsomething,willyou?”
“Madame.Youlookcharming.”
Janelookedserious.
“Idon’twantexactlytoplaythehypocrite,M.Poirot.Butonemustobserveappearances,don’tyouthink?Imean,IthinkIoughttobecareful.Oh!bytheway,I’vehadthesweetesttelegramfromtheDuke.”
“FromParis?”
“Yes,fromParis.Guarded,ofcourse,andsupposedtobecondolences,butputsothatIcanreadbetweenthelines.”
“Myfelicitations,Madame.”
“M.Poirot.”Sheclaspedherhands,herhuskyvoicedropped.Shelookedlikeanangelabouttogiveventtothoughtsofexquisiteholiness.“I’vebeenthinking.Itallseemssomiraculous,ifyouknowwhatImean.HereIam—allmytroublesover.Notiresomebusinessofdivorce.Nobothers.Justmypathclearedandallplainsailing.Itmakesmefeelalmostreligious—ifyouknowwhatImean.”
Iheldmybreath.Poirotlookedather,hisheadalittleononeside.Shewasquiteserious.
“Thatishowitstrikesyou,Madame,eh?”
“Thingshappenrightforme,”saidJaneinasortofawedwhisper.“I’vethoughtandI’vethoughtlately—ifEdgwarewastodie.Andthere—he’sdead!It’s—it’salmostlikeananswertoprayer.”
Poirotclearedhisthroat.
“IcannotsayIlookatitquitelikethat,Madame.Somebodykilledyourhusband.”
Shenodded.
“Why,ofcourse.”
“Hasitnotoccurredtoyoutowonderwhothatsomeonewas?”
Shestaredathim.“Doesitmatter?Imean—what’sthattodowithit?TheDukeandIcanbemarriedinaboutfourorfivemonths….”
WithdifficultyPoirotcontrolledhimself.
“Yes,Madame,Iknowthat.Butapartfromthathasitnotoccurredtoyoutoaskyourselfwhokilledyourhusband?”
“No.”Sheseemedquitesurprisedbytheidea.Wecouldseeherthinkingaboutit.
“Doesitnotinterestyoutoknow?”askedPoirot.
“Notverymuch,I’mafraid,”sheadmitted.“Isupposethepolicewillfindout.They’reveryclever,aren’tthey?”
“Soitissaid.I,too,amgoingtomakeitmybusinesstofindout.”
“Areyou?Howfunny.”
“Whyfunny?”
“Well,Idon’tknow.”Hereyesstrayedbacktotheclothes.Sheslippedonasatincoatandstudiedherselfintheglass.
“Youdonotobject,eh?”saidPoirot,hiseyestwinkling.
“Why,ofcoursenot,M.Poirot.Ishouldjustloveyoutobecleveraboutitall.Iwishyoueverysuccess.”
“Madame—Iwantmorethanyourwishes.Iwantyouropinion.”
“Opinion?”saidJaneabsently,asshetwistedherheadoverhershoulder.“Whaton?”
“WhodoyouthinklikelytohavekilledLordEdgware?”
Janeshookherhead.“Ihaven’tanyidea!”
Shewriggledhershouldersexperimentallyandtookupthehandglass.
“Madame!”saidPoirotinaloud,emphaticvoice.“WhoDOyouTHINKKILLEDYOURHUSBAND?”
Thistimeitgotthrough.Janethrewhimastartledglance.“Geraldine,Iexpect,”shesaid.
“WhoisGeraldine?”
ButJane’sattentionwasgoneagain.
“Ellis,takethisupalittleontherightshoulder.So.What,M.Poirot?Geraldine’shisdaughter.NoEllis,therightshoulder.That’sbetter.Oh!mustyougo,M.Poirot?I’mterriblygratefulforeverything.Imean,forthedivorce,eventhoughitisn’tnecessaryafterall.Ishallalwaysthinkyouwerewonderful.”
IonlysawJaneWilkinsontwiceagain.Onceonthestage,oncewhenIsatoppositeherataluncheonparty.IalwaysthinkofherasIsawherthen,absorbedheartandsoulinclothes,herlipscarelesslythrowingoutthewordsthatweretoinfluencePoirot’sfurtheractions,hermindconcentratedfirmlyandbeautifullyonherself.
“Epatant,”saidPoirotwithreverenceasweemergedintotheStrand.
Twelve
THEDAUGHTER
Therewasalettersentbyhandlyingonthetablewhenwegotbacktoourrooms.Poirotpickeditup,slititopenwithhisusualneatness,andthenlaughed
“Whatisityousay—‘Talkofthedevil?’Seehere,Hastings.”
Itookthenotefromhim.
Thepaperwasstamped17RegentGateandwaswritteninveryuprightcharacteristichandwritingwhichlookedeasytoreadand,curiouslyenough,wasnot.
“DearSir(itran),Ihearyouwereatthehousethismorningwiththeinspector.Iamsorrynottohavehadtheopportunityofspeakingtoyou.IfconvenienttoyourselfIshouldbemuchobligedifyoucouldsparemeafewminutesanytimethisafternoon.Yourstruly,GeraldineMarsh.”
“Curious,”Isaid.“Iwonderwhyshewantstoseeyou?”
“Isitcuriousthatsheshouldwanttoseeme?Youarenotpolite,myfriend.”
Poirothasthemostirritatinghabitofjokingatthewrongmoment.
“Wewillgoroundatonce,myfriend,”hesaid,andlovinglybrushinganimaginedspeckofdustfromhishat,heputitonhishead.
JaneWilkinson’scarelesssuggestionthatGeraldinemighthavekilledherfatherseemedtomeparticularlyabsurd.Onlyaparticularlybrainlesspersoncouldhavesuggestedit.IsaidasmuchtoPoirot.
“Brains.Brains.Whatdowereallymeanbytheterm?InyouridiomyouwouldsaythatJaneWilkinsonhasthebrainsofarabbit.Thatisatermofdisparagement.Butconsidertherabbitforamoment.Heexistsandmultiplies,doeshenot?That,inNature,isasignofmentalsuperiority.ThelovelyLadyEdgwareshedoesnotknowhistory,orgeography,northeclassicssansdoute.ThenameofLaoTsewouldsuggesttoheraprizePekingesedog,thenameofMolièreamaisondecouture.Butwhenitcomestochoosingclothes,tomakingrichandadvantageousmarriages,andtogettingherownway—hersuccessisphenomenal.TheopinionofaphilosopherastowhomurderedLordEdgwarewouldbenogoodtome—themotiveformurderfromaphilosopher’spointofviewwouldbethegreatestgoodofthegreatestnumber,andasthatisdifficulttodecide,fewphilosophersaremurderers.ButacarelessopinionfromLadyEdgwaremightbeusefultomebecauseherpointofviewwouldbematerialisticandbasedonaknowledgeoftheworstsideofhumannature.”
“Perhapsthere’ssomethinginthat,”Iconceded.
“Nousvoici,”saidPoirot.“Iamcurioustoknowwhytheyoungladywishessourgentlytoseeme.”
“Itisanaturaldesire,”Isaid,gettingmyownback.“Yousaidsoaquarterofanhourago.Thenaturaldesiretoseesomethinguniqueatclosequarters.”
“Perhapsitisyou,myfriend,whomakeanimpressiononherhearttheotherday,”repliedPoirotasherangthebell.
Irecalledthestartledfaceofthegirlwhohadstoodinthedoorway.Icouldstillseethoseburningdarkeyesinthewhiteface.Thatmomentaryglimpsehadmadeagreatimpressiononme.
WewereshownupstairstoabigdrawingroomandinaminuteortwoGeraldineMarshcametousthere.
TheimpressionofintensitywhichIhadnoticedbeforewasheightenedonthisoccasion.Thistall,thin,white-facedgirlwithherbighauntingblackeyeswasastrikingfigure.
Shewasextremelycomposed—inviewofheryouth,remarkablyso.
“Itisverygoodofyoutocomesopromptly,M.Poirot,”shesaid.“Iamsorrytohavemissedyouthismorning.”
“Youwerelyingdown?”
“Yes.MissCarroll—myfather’ssecretary,youknow—insisted.Shehasbeenverykind.”
Therewasaqueergrudgingnoteinthegirl’svoicethatpuzzledme.
“InwhatwaycanIbeofservicetoyou,Mademoiselle?”askedPoirot.
Shehesitatedaminuteandthensaid:
“Onthedaybeforemyfatherwaskilledyoucametoseehim?”
“Yes,Mademoiselle.”
“Why?Didhe—sendforyou?”
Poirotdidnotreplyforamoment.Heseemedtobedeliberating.Ibelieve,now,thatitwasacleverlycalculatedmoveonhispart.Hewantedtogoadherintofurtherspeech.Shewas,herealized,oftheimpatienttype.Shewantedthingsinahurry.
“Washeafraidofsomething?Tellme.Tellme.Imustknow.Whowasheafraidof?Why?Whatdidhesaytoyou?Oh!whycan’tyouspeak?”
Ihadthoughtthatthatforcedcomposurewasnotnatural.Ithadsoonbrokendown.Shewasleaningforwardnow,herhandstwistingthemselvesnervouslyonherlap.
“WhatpassedbetweenLordEdgwareandmyselfwasinconfidence,”saidPoirotslowly.
Hiseyesneverleftherface.
“Thenitwasabout—Imean,itmusthavebeensomethingtodowith—thefamily.Oh!yousitthereandtortureme.Whywon’tyoutellme?It’snecessaryformetoknow.It’snecessary.Itellyou.”
Again,veryslowly,Poirotshookhishead,apparentlyapreytodeepperplexity.
“M.Poirot.”Shedrewherselfup.“I’mhisdaughter.Itismyrighttoknow—whatmyfatherdreadedonthelastdaybutoneofhislife.Itisn’tfairtoleavemeinthedark.Itisn’tfairtohim—nottotellme.”
“Wereyousodevotedtoyourfather,then,Mademoiselle?”askedPoirotgently.
Shedrewbackasthoughstung.
“Fondofhim?”shewhispered.“Fondofhim.I—I—”
Andsuddenlyherself-controlsnapped.Pealsoflaughterbrokefromher.Shelaybackinherchairandlaughedandlaughed.
“It’ssofunny,”shegasped.“It’ssofunny—tobeaskedthat.”
Thathystericallaughterhadnotpassedunheard.ThedooropenedandMissCarrollcamein.Shewasfirmandefficient
“Now,now,Geraldine,mydear,thatwon’tdo.No,no.Hush,now.Iinsist.No.Stopit.Imeanit.Stopitatonce.”
Herdeterminedmannerhaditseffect.Geraldine’slaughtergrewfainter.Shewipedhereyesandsatup.
“I’msorry,”shesaidinalowvoice.“I’veneverdonethatbefore.”
MissCarrollwasstilllookingatheranxiously.
“I’mallrightnow,MissCarroll.Itwasidiotic.”
Shesmiledsuddenly.Aqueerbittersmilethattwistedherlips.Shesatupverystraightinherchairandlookedatnoone.
“Heaskedme,”shesaidinacoldclearvoice,“ifIhadbeenveryfondofmyfather.”
MissCarrollmadeasortofindeterminatecluck.Itdenotedirresolutiononherpart.Geraldinewenton,hervoicehighandscornful.
“Iwonderifitisbettertotellliesorthetruth?Thetruth,Ithink.Iwasn’tfondofmyfather.Ihatedhim!”
“Geraldinedear.”
“Whypretend?Youdidn’thatehimbecausehecouldn’ttouchyou!Youwereoneofthefewpeopleintheworldthathecouldn’tgetat.Yousawhimastheemployerwhopaidyousomuchayear.Hisragesandhisqueernessdidn’tinterestyou—youignoredthem.Iknowwhatyou’dsay,‘Everyonehasgottoputupwithsomething.’Youwerecheerfulanduninterested.You’reaverystrongwoman.You’renotreallyhuman.Butthenyoucouldhavewalkedoutofthehouseanyminute.Icouldn’t.Ibelonged.”
“Really,Geraldine,Idon’tthinkit’snecessarygoingintoallthis.Fathersanddaughtersoftendon’tgeton.Butthelesssaidinlifethebetter,I’vefound.”
Geraldineturnedherbackonher.SheaddressedherselftoPoirot.
“M.Poirot,Ihatedmyfather!Iamgladheisdead!Itmeansfreedomforme—freedomandindependence.Iamnotintheleastanxioustofindhismurderer.Forallweknowthepersonwhokilledhimmayhavehadreasons—amplereasons—justifyingthataction.”
Poirotlookedatherthoughtfully.
“Thatisadangerousprincipletoadopt,Mademoiselle.”
“Willhangingsomeoneelsebringfatherbacktolife?”
“No,”saidPoirotdryly.“Butitmaysaveotherinnocentpeoplefrombeingmurdered.”
“Idon’tunderstand.”
“Apersonwhohasoncekilled,Mademoiselle,nearlyalwayskillsagain—sometimesagainandagain.”
“Idon’tbelieveit.Not—notarealperson.”
“Youmean—notahomicidalmaniac?Butyes,itistrue.Onelifeisremoved—perhapsafteraterrificstrugglewiththemurderer’sconscience.Then—dangerthreatens—thesecondmurderismorallyeasier.Attheslightestthreateningofsuspicionathirdfollows.Andlittlebylittleanartisticpridearises—itisamétier—tokill.Itisdoneatlastalmostforpleasure.”
Thegirlhadhiddenherfaceinherhands.
“Horrible.Horrible.Itisn’ttrue.”
“AndsupposingItoldyouthatithadalreadyhappened?Thatalready—tosavehimself—themurdererhaskilledasecondtime?”
“What’sthat,M.Poirot?”criedMissCarroll.“Anothermurder?Where?Who?”
Poirotgentlyshookhishead.
“Itwasanillustrationonly.Iaskpardon.”
“Oh!Isee.ForamomentIreallythought—Now,Geraldine,ifyou’vefinishedtalkingarrantnonsense.”
“Youareonmyside,Isee,”saidPoirotwithalittlebow.
“Idon’tbelieveincapitalpunishment,”saidMissCarrollbriskly.“OtherwiseIamcertainlyonyourside.Societymustbeprotected.”
Geraldinegotup.Shesmoothedbackherhair.
“Iamsorry,”shesaid.“IamafraidIhavebeenmakingratherafoolofmyself.Youstillrefusetotellmewhymyfathercalledyouin?”
“Calledhim?”saidMissCarrollinlivelyastonishment.
“Youmisunderstand,MissMarsh.Ihavenotrefusedtotellyou.”
Poirotwasforcedtocomeoutintotheopen.
“Iwasonlyconsideringhowfarthatinterviewmighthavebeensaidtobeconfidential.Yourfatherdidnotcallmein.Isoughtaninterviewwithhimonbehalfofaclient.ThatclientwasLadyEdgware.”
“Oh!Isee.”
Anextraordinaryexpressioncameoverthegirl’sface.Ithoughtatfirstitwasdisappointment.ThenIsawitwasrelief.
“Ihavebeenveryfoolish,”shesaidslowly.“Ithoughtmyfatherhadperhapsthoughthimselfmenacedbysomedanger.Itwasstupid.”
“Youknow,M.Poirot,yougavemequiteaturnjustnow,”saidMissCarroll,“whenyousuggestedthatwomanhaddoneasecondmurder.”
Poirotdidnotanswerher.Hespoketothegirl.
“DoyoubelieveLadyEdgwarecommittedthemurder,Mademoiselle?”
Sheshookherhead.
“No,Idon’t.Ican’tseeherdoingathinglikethat.She’smuchtoo—well,artificial.”
“Idon’tseewhoelsecanhavedoneit,”saidMissCarroll.“AndIdon’tthinkwomenofthatkindhavegotanymoralsense.”
“Itneedn’thavebeenher,”arguedGeraldine.“Shemayhavecomehereandjusthadaninterviewwithhimandgoneaway,andtherealmurderermayhavebeensomelunaticwhogotinafterwards.”
“Allmurderersarementallydeficient—ofthatIamassured,”saidMissCarroll.“Internalglandsecretion.”
Atthatmomentthedooropenedandamancamein—thenstoppedawkwardly.
“Sorry,”hesaid.“Ididn’tknowanyonewasinhere.”
Geraldinemadeamechanicalintroduction.
“Mycousin,LordEdgware.M.Poirot.It’sallright,Ronald.You’renotinterrupting.”
“Sure,Dina?Howdoyoudo,M.Poirot?Areyourgreycellsfunctioningoverourparticularfamilymystery?”
Icastmymindbacktryingtoremember.Thatround,pleasant,vacuousface,theeyeswithslightpouchesunderneaththem,thelittlemoustachemaroonedlikeanislandinthemiddleoftheexpanseofface.
Ofcourse!ItwasCarlottaAdams’escortonthenightofthesupperpartyinJaneWilkinson’ssuite.
CaptainRonaldMarsh.NowLordEdgware.
Thirteen
THENEPHEW
ThenewLordEdgware’seyewasaquickone.HenoticedtheslightstartIgave
“Ah!you’vegotit,”hesaidamiably.“AuntJane’slittlesupperparty.Justashadebottled,wasn’tI?ButIfancieditpassedquiteunperceived.”
Poirotwassayinggood-byetoGeraldineMarshandMissCarroll.
“I’llcomedownwithyou,”saidRonaldgenially.
Heledthewaydownthestairs,talkingashewent.
“Rumthing—life.Kickedoutoneday,lordofthemanorthenext.Mylateunlamentedunclekickedmeout,youknow,threeyearsago.ButIexpectyouknowallaboutthat,M.Poirot?”
“Ihadheardthefactmentioned—yes,”repliedPoirotcomposedly.
“Naturally.Athingofthatkindissuretobedugup.Theearnestsleuthcan’taffordtomissit.”
Hegrinned.
Thenhethrewopenthediningroomdoor
“Haveaspotbeforeyougo.”
Poirotrefused.SodidI.Buttheyoungmanmixedhimselfadrinkandcontinuedtotalk.
“Here’stomurder,”hesaidcheerfully.“InthespaceofoneshortnightIamconvertedfromthecreditor’sdespairtothetradesman’shope.Yesterdayruinstaredmeintheface,todayallisaffluence.GodblessAuntJane.”
Hedrainedhisglass.Then,withaslightchangeofmanner,hespoketoPoirot
“Seriously,though,M.Poirot,whatareyoudoinghere?FourdaysagoAuntJanewasdramaticallydeclaiming,‘Whowillridmeofthisinsolenttyrant?’andloandbeholdsheisridded!Notbyyouragency,Ihope?Theperfectcrime,byHerculePoirot,ex-sleuthhound.”
Poirotsmiled.
“IamherethisafternooninanswertoanotefromMissGeraldineMarsh.”
“Adiscreetanswer,eh?No,M.Poirot,whatareyoureallydoinghere?Forsomereasonorotheryouareinterestingyourselfinmyuncle’sdeath.”
“Iamalwaysinterestedinmurder,LordEdgware.”
“Butyoudon’tcommitit.Verycautious.YoushouldteachAuntJanecaution.Cautionandashademorecamouflage.You’llexcusemecallingherAuntJane.Itamusesme.DidyouseeherblankfacewhenIdidittheothernight?Hadn’tthefoggiestnotionwhoIwas.”
“Enverité?”
“No.Iwaskickedoutofherethreemonthsbeforeshecamealong.”
Thefatuousexpressionofgoodnatureonhisfacefailedforamoment.Thenhewentonlightly:
“Beautifulwoman.Butnosubtlety.Methodsarerathercrude,eh?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Itispossible.”
Ronaldlookedathimcuriously.
“Ibelieveyouthinkshedidn’tdoit.Soshe’sgotroundyoutoo,hasshe?”
“Ihaveagreatadmirationforbeauty,”saidPoirotevenly.“Butalsofor—evidence.”
Hebroughtthelastwordoutveryquietly.
“Evidence?”saidtheothersharply.
“Perhapsyoudonotknow,LordEdgware,thatLadyEdgwarewasatapartyatChiswicklastnightatthetimeshewassupposedtohavebeenseenhere.”
Ronaldswore.
“Soshewentafterall!Howlikeawoman!Atsixo’clockshewasthrowingherweightabout,declaringthatnothingonearthwouldmakehergo,andIsupposeabouttenminutesaftershe’dchangedhermind!Whenplanningamurderneverdependuponawomandoingwhatshesaysshe’lldo.That’showthebest-laidplansofmurdergangagley.No,M.Poirot,I’mnotincriminatingmyself.Oh,yes,don’tthinkIcan’treadwhat’spassingthroughyourmind.WhoistheNaturalSuspect?Thewell-knownWickedNe’er-do-WeelNephew.”
Heleanedbackinhischairchuckling.
“I’msavingyourlittlegreycellsforyou,M.Poirot.NoneedforyoutohuntroundforsomeonewhosawmeintheoffingwhenAuntJanewasdeclaringshenever,never,neverwouldgooutthatnight,etc.Iwasthere.SoyouaskyourselfdidthewickednephewinverytruthcomeherelastnightdisguisedinafairwigandaParishat?”
Seeminglyenjoyingthesituation,hesurveyedusboth.Poirot,hisheadalittleononeside,wasregardinghimwithcloseattention.Ifeltratheruncomfortable.
“Ihadamotive—oh!yes,motiveadmitted.AndI’mgoingtogiveyouapresentofaveryvaluableandsignificantpieceofinformation.Icalledtoseemyuncleyesterdaymorning.Why?Toaskformoney.Yes,lickyourlipsoverthat.ToASKFORMONEY.AndIwentawaywithoutgettingany.Andthatsameevening—thatverysameevening—LordEdgwaredies.Goodtitlethat,bytheway.LordEdgwareDies.Lookwellonabookstall.”
Hepaused.StillPoirotsaidnothing.
“I’mreallyflatteredbyyourattention,M.Poirot.CaptainHastingslooksasthoughhehadseenaghost—orweregoingtoseeoneanyminute.Don’tgetsostrungup,mydearfellow.Waitfortheanticlimax.Well,wherewerewe?Oh!yes,caseagainsttheWickedNephew.GuiltistobethrownonthehatedAuntbyMarriage.Nephew,celebratedatonetimeforactingfemaleparts,doeshissupremehistrioniceffort.InagirlishvoiceheannounceshimselfasLadyEdgwareandsidlespastthebutlerwithmincingsteps.Nosuspicionsarearoused.‘Jane,’criesmyfonduncle.‘George,’Isqueak.Iflingmyarmsabouthisneckandneatlyinsertthepenknife.Thenextdetailsarepurelymedicalandcanbeomitted.Exitthespuriouslady.Andsotobedattheendofagoodday’swork.”
Helaughed,andrising,pouredhimselfoutanotherwhiskyandsoda.Hereturnedslowlytohischair.
“Worksoutwell,doesn’tit?Butyousee,herecomesthecruxofthematter.Thedisappointment!Theannoyingsensationofhavingbeenledupthegarden.Fornow,M.Poirot,wecometothealibi!”
Hefinishedoffhisglass.
“Ialwaysfindalibisveryenjoyable,”heremarked.“WheneverIhappentobereadingadetectivestoryIsitupandtakenoticewhenthealibicomesalong.Thisisaremarkablygoodalibi.Threestrong,andJewishatthat.Inplainerlanguage,Mr.,Mrs.andMissDortheimer.Extremelyrichandextremelymusical.TheyhaveaboxinCoventGarden.Intothatboxtheyinviteyoungmenwithprospects.I,M.Poirot,amayoungmanwithprospects—asgoodaone,shallwesay,astheycanhopetoget.DoIliketheopera?Frankly,no.ButIenjoytheexcellentdinnerinGrosvenorSquarefirst,andIalsoenjoyanexcellentsuppersomewhereelseafterwards,evenifIdohavetodancewithRachelDortheimerandhaveastiffarmfortwodaysafterwards.Soyousee,M.Poirot,thereyouare.Whenuncle’slifebloodisflowing,Iamwhisperingcheerfulnothingsintothediamondencrustedearsofthefair(Ibegherpardon,dark)RachelinaboxatCoventGarden.HerlongJewishnoseisquiveringwithemotion.Andsoyousee,M.Poirot,whyIcanaffordtobesofrank.”
Heleanedbackinhischair.
“IhopeIhavenotboredyou.Anyquestiontoask?”
“IcanassureyouthatIhavenotbeenbored,”saidPoirot.“Sinceyouaresokind,thereisonelittlequestionthatIwouldliketoask.”
“Delighted.”
“Howlong,LordEdgware,haveyouknownMissCarlottaAdams?”
Whatevertheyoungmanhadexpected,itcertainlyhadnotbeenthis.Hesatupsharplywithanentirelynewexpressiononhisface.
“Whyonearthdoyouwanttoknowthat?What’sthatgottodowithwhatwe’vebeentalkingabout?”
“Iwascurious,thatwasall.Fortheother,youhaveexplainedsofullyeverythingthereistoexplainthatthereisnoneedformetoaskquestions.”
Ronaldshotaquickglanceathim.ItwasalmostasthoughhedidnotcareforPoirot’samiableacquiescence.Hewould,Ithought,havepreferredhimtobemoresuspicious.
“CarlottaAdams?Letmesee.Aboutayear.Alittlemore.Igottoknowherlastyearwhenshegaveherfirstshow.”
“Youknewherwell?”
“Prettywell.She’snotthesortofgirlyouevergottoknowfrightfullywell.Reservedandallthat.”
“Butyoulikedher?”
Ronaldstaredathim.
“IwishIknewwhyyouweresointerestedinthelady.WasitbecauseIwaswithhertheothernight?Yes,Ilikeherverymuch.She’ssympathetic—listenstoachapandmakeshimfeelhe’ssomethingofafellowafterall.”
Poirotnodded.
“Icomprehend.Thenyouwillbesorry.”
“Sorry?Whatabout?”
“Thatsheisdead!”
“What?”Ronaldsprangupinastonishment.“Carlottadead?”
Helookedabsolutelydumbfoundedbythenews.
“You’repullingmyleg,M.Poirot.CarlottawasperfectlywellthelasttimeIsawher.”
“Whenwasthat?”askedPoirotquickly
“Daybeforeyesterday,Ithink.Ican’tremember.”
“Toutdemême,sheisdead.”
“Itmusthavebeenfrightfullysudden.Whatwasit?Astreetaccident?”
Poirotlookedattheceiling.
“No.Shetookanoverdoseofveronal.”
“Oh!Isay.Poorkid.Howfrightfullysad.”
“N’estcepas?”
“Iamsorry.Andshewasgettingonsowell.Shewasgoingtogetherkidsisteroverandhadallsortsofplans.Dashit.I’mmoresorrythanIcansay.”
“Yes,”saidPoirot.“Itissadtodiewhenyouareyoung—whenyoudonotwanttodie—whenalllifeisopenbeforeyouandyouhaveeverythingtolivefor.”
Ronaldlookedathimcuriously.
“Idon’tthinkIquitegetyou,M.Poirot.”
“No?”
Poirotroseandheldouthishand.
“Iexpressmythoughts—alittlestrongly,perhaps.ForIdonotliketoseeyouthdeprivedofitsrighttolive,LordEdgware.Ifeel—verystronglyaboutit.Iwishyougoodday.”
“Oh—er—good-bye.”
Helookedrathertakenaback.
AsIopenedthedoorIalmostcollidedwithMissCarroll.
“Ah!M.Poirot,theytoldmeyouhadn’tgoneyet.I’dlikeawordwithyouifImay.Perhapsyouwouldn’tmindcominguptomyroom?
“It’saboutthatchild,Geraldine,”shesaidwhenwehadenteredhersanctumandshehadclosedthedoor.
“Yes,Mademoiselle?”
“Shetalkedalotofnonsensethisafternoon.Nowdon’tprotest.Nonsense!That’swhatIcallitandthat’swhatitwas.Shebroods.”
“Icouldseethatshewassufferingfromoverstrain,”saidPoirotgently.
“Well—totellthetruth—shehasn’thadaveryhappylife.No,onecan’tpretendshehas.Frankly,M.Poirot,LordEdgwarewasapeculiarman—notthesortofmanwhooughttohavehadanythingtodowiththeupbringingofchildren.Quitefrankly,heterrorizedGeraldine.”
Poirotnodded.
“Yes,Ishouldimaginesomethingofthekind.”
“Hewasapeculiarman.He—Idon’tquiteknowhowtoputit—butheenjoyedseeinganyoneafraidofhim.Itseemedtogivehimamorbidkindofpleasure.”
“Quiteso.”
“Hewasanextremelywell-readman,andamanofconsiderableintellect.Butinsomeways—well,Ididn’tcomeacrossthatsideofhimmyself,butitwasthere.I’mnotreallysurprisedhiswifelefthim.Thiswife,Imean.Idon’tapproveofher,mind.I’venoopinionofthatyoungwomanatall.ButinmarryingLordEdgwareshegotallandmorethanshedeserved.Well,shelefthim—andnobonesbroken,astheysay.ButGeraldinecouldn’tleavehim.Foralongtimehe’dforgetallabouther,andthen,suddenly,he’dremember.Isometimesthink—thoughperhapsIshouldn’tsayit—”
“Yes,yes.Mademoiselle,sayit.”
“Well,Isometimesthoughtherevengedhimselfonthemother—hisfirstwife—thatway.Shewasagentlecreature,Ibelieve,withaverysweetdisposition.I’vealwaysbeensorryforher.Ishouldn’thavementionedallthis,M.Poirot,ifithadn’tbeenforthatveryfoolishoutburstofGeraldine’sjustnow.Thingsshesaid—abouthatingherfather—theymightsoundpeculiartoanyonewhodidn’tknow.”
“Thankyouverymuch,Mademoiselle.LordEdgware,Ifancy,wasamanwhowouldhavedonemuchbetternottomarry.”
“Muchbetter.”
“Heneverthoughtofmarryingforathirdtime?”
“Howcouldhe?Hiswifewasalive.”
“Bygivingherherfreedomhewouldhavebeenfreehimself.”
“Ishouldthinkhehadhadenoughtroublewithtwowivesasitwas,”saidMissCarrollgrimly.
“Soyouthinktherewouldhavebeennoquestionofathirdmarriage.Therewasnoone?Think,Mademoiselle.Noone?”
MissCarroll’scolourrose.
“Icannotunderstandthewayyoukeepharpingonthepoint.Ofcoursetherewasnoone.”
Fourteen
FIVEQUESTIONS
“WhydidyouaskMissCarrollaboutthepossibilityofLordEdgware’swantingtomarryagain?”Iaskedwithsomecuriosityasweweredrivinghome.
“Itjustoccurredtomethattherewasapossibilityofsuchathing,monami.”
“Why?”
“IhavebeensearchinginmymindforsomethingtoexplainLordEdgware’ssuddenvoltefaceregardingthematterofdivorce.Thereissomethingcuriousthere,myfriend.”
“Yes,”Isaidthoughtfully.“Itisratherodd.”
“Yousee,Hastings,LordEdgwareconfirmedwhatMadamehadtoldus.Shehademployedthelawyersofallkinds,butherefusedtobudgeaninch.No,hewouldnotagreetothedivorce.Andthen,allofasudden,heyields!”
“Orsohesays,”Iremindedhim.
“Verytrue,Hastings.Itisveryjust,theobservationyoumakethere.Sohesays.Wehavenoproof,whatever,thatthatletterwaswritten.Ehbien,ononepart,ceMonsieurislying.Forsomereasonhetellsusthefabrication,theembroidery.Isitnotso?Why,wedonotknow.But,onthehypothesisthathedidwritethatletter,theremusthavebeenareasonforsodoing.Nowthereasonthatpresentsitselfmostnaturallytotheimaginationisthathehassuddenlymetsomeonewhomhedesirestomarry.Thatexplainsperfectlyhissuddenchangeofface.Andso,naturally,Imaketheinquiries.”
“MissCarrollturnedtheideadownverydecisively,”Isaid.
“Yes.MissCarroll…”saidPoirotinameditativevoice.
“Nowwhatareyoudrivingat?”Iaskedinexasperation.
Poirotisanadeptatsuggestingdoubtsbythetoneofhisvoice.
“Whatreasonshouldshehaveforlyingaboutit?”Iasked.
“Aucune—aucune.”
“But,yousee,Hastings,itisdifficulttotrustherevidence.”
“Youthinkshe’slying?Butwhy?Shelooksamostuprightperson.”
“Thatisjustit.Betweenthedeliberatefalsehoodandthedisinterestedinaccuracyitisveryhardtodistinguishsometimes.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Todeceivedeliberately—thatisonething.Buttobesosureofyourfacts,ofyourideasandoftheiressentialtruththatthedetailsdonotmatter—that,myfriend,isaspecialcharacteristicofparticularlyhonestpersons.Already,markyou,shehastoldusonelie.ShesaidshesawJaneWilkinson’sfacewhenshecouldnotpossiblyhavedoneso.Nowhowdidthatcomeabout?Lookatitthisway.ShelooksdownandseesJaneWilkinsoninthehall.NodoubtentersherheadthatitisJaneWilkinson.Sheknowsitis.Shesaysshesawherfacedistinctlybecause—beingsosureofherfacts—exactdetailsdonotmatter!Itispointedouttoherthatshecouldnothaveseenherface.Isthatso?Well,whatdoesitmatterifshesawherfaceornot—itwasJaneWilkinson.Andsowithanyotherquestion.Sheknows.Andsosheanswersquestionsinthelightofherknowledge,notbyreasonofrememberedfacts.Thepositivewitnessshouldalwaysbetreatedwithsuspicion,myfriend.Theuncertainwitnesswhodoesn’tremember,isn’tsure,willthinkaminute—ah!yes,that’showitwas—isinfinitelymoretobedependedupon!”
“Dearme,Poirot,”Isaid.“Youupsetallmypreconceivedideasaboutwitnesses.”
“InreplytomyquestionastoLordEdgware’smarryingagainsheridiculestheidea—simplybecauseithasneveroccurredtoher.Shewillnottakethetroubletorememberwhetheranyinfinitesimalsignsmayhavepointedthatway.Thereforeweareexactlywherewewerebefore.”
“ShecertainlydidnotseematalltakenabackwhenyoupointedoutshecouldnothaveseenJaneWilkinson’sface,”Iremarkedthoughtfully.
“No.ThatiswhyIdecidedthatshewasoneofthosehonestlyinaccuratepersons,ratherthanadeliberateliar.Icanseenomotivefordeliberatelyingunless—true,thatisanidea!”
“Whatis?”Iaskedeagerly.
ButPoirotshookhishead.
“Anideasuggesteditselftome.Butitistooimpossible—yes,muchtooimpossible.”
Andherefusedtosaymore.
“Sheseemsveryfondofthegirl,”Isaid.
“Yes.Shecertainlywasdeterminedtoassistatourinterview.WhatwasyourimpressionoftheHonourableGeraldineMarsh,Hastings?”
“Iwassorryforher—deeplysorryforher.”
“Youhavealwaysthetenderheart,Hastings.Beautyindistressupsetsyoueverytime.”
“Didn’tyoufeelthesame?”
Henoddedgravely.
“Yes—shehasnothadahappylife.Thatiswrittenveryclearlyonherface.”
“Atanyrate,”Isaidwarmly,“yourealizehowpreposterousJaneWilkinson’ssuggestionwas—thatsheshouldhavehadanythingtodowiththecrime,Imean.”
“Doubtlessheralibiissatisfactory,butJapphasnotcommunicatedittomeasyet.”
“MydearPoirot—doyoumeantosaythatevenafterseeingherandtalkingtoher,youarestillnotsatisfiedandwantanalibi?”
“Ehbien,myfriend,whatistheresultofseeingandtalkingtoher?Weperceivethatshehaspassedthroughgreatunhappiness,sheadmitsthatshehatedherfatherandisgladthatheisdead,andsheisdeeplyuneasyaboutwhathemayhavesaidtousyesterdaymorning.Andafterthatyousay—noalibiisnecessary!”
“Hermerefranknessprovesherinnocence,”Isaidwarmly.
“Franknessisacharacteristicofthefamily.ThenewLordEdgware—withwhatagesturehelaidhiscardsonthetable.”
“Hedidindeed,”Isaid,smilingattheremembrance.“Ratheranoriginalmethod.”
Poirotnodded.
“He—whatdoyousay?—cutthegroundbeforeourfeet.”
“Fromunder,”Icorrected.“Yes—itmadeuslookratherfoolish.”
“Whatacuriousidea.Youmayhavelookedfoolish.Ididn’tfeelfoolishintheleastandIdonotthinkIlookedit.Onthecontrary,myfriend,Iputhimoutofcountenance.”
“Didyou?”Isaiddoubtfully,notrememberinghavingseensignsofanythingofthekind.
“Si,si.Ilisten—andlisten.AndatlastIaskaquestionaboutsomethingquitedifferent,andthat,youmayhavenoticed,disconcertsourbraveMonsieurverymuch.Youdonotobserve,Hastings.”
“IthoughthishorrorandastonishmentathearingofCarlottaAdams’deathwasgenuine,”Isaid.“Isupposeyouwillsayitwasapieceofcleveracting.”
“Impossibletotell.Iagreeitseemedgenuine.”
“Whydoyouthinkheflungallthosefactsatourheadinthatcynicalway?Justforamusement?”
“Thatisalwayspossible.YouEnglish,youhavethemostextraordinarynotionsofhumour.Butitmayhavebeenpolicy.Factsthatareconcealedacquireasuspiciousimportance.Factsthatarefranklyrevealedtendtoberegardedaslessimportantthantheyreallyare.”
“Thequarrelwithhisunclethatmorning,forinstance?”
“Exactly.Heknowsthatthefactisboundtoleakout.Ehbien,hewillparadeit.”
“Heisnotsofoolishashelooks.”
“Oh!heisnotfoolishatall.Hehasplentyofbrainswhenhecarestousethem.Heseesexactlywherehestandsand,asIsaid,helayshiscardsonthetable.Youplaythebridge,Hastings.Tellme,whendoesonedothat?”
“Youplaybridgeyourself,”Isaid,laughing.“Youknowwellenough—whenalltherestofthetricksareyoursandyouwanttosavetimeandgetontoanewhand.”
“Yes,monami,thatisallverytrue.Butoccasionallythereisanotherreason.Ihaveremarkeditonceortwicewhenplayingwithlesdames.Thereisperhapsalittledoubt.Ehbien,ladame,shethrowsdownthecards,says‘andalltherestaremine,’andgathersupthecardsandcutsthenewpack.Andpossiblytheotherplayersagree—especiallyiftheyarealittleinexperienced.Thethingisnotobvious,markyou.Itrequirestobefollowedout.Halfwaythroughdealingthenexthand,oneoftheplayersthinks:‘Yes,butshewouldhavetohavetakenoverthatfourthdiamondindummywhethershewanteditornot,andthenshewouldhavehadtoleadalittleclubandmyninewouldhavemade.’”
“Soyouthink?”
“Ithink,Hastings,thattoomuchbravadoisaveryinterestingthing.AndIalsothinkthatitistimewedined.Unepetiteomelette,n’estcepas?Andafterthat,aboutnineo’clock,IhaveonemorevisitIwishtomake.”
“Whereisthat?”
“Wewilldinefirst,Hastings.Anduntilwedrinkourcoffee,wewillnotdiscussthecasefurther.Whenengagedineating,thebrainshouldbetheservantofthestomach.”
Poirotwasasgoodashisword.WewenttoalittlerestaurantinSohowherehewaswell-known,andtherewehadadeliciousomelette,asole,achickenandaBabaauRhumofwhichPoirotwasinordinatelyfond.
Then,aswesippedourcoffee,Poirotsmiledaffectionatelyacrossthetableatme.
“Mygoodfriend,”hesaid.“Idependuponyoumorethanyouknow.”
Iwasconfusedanddelightedbytheseunexpectedwords.Hehadneversaidanythingofthekindtomebefore.Sometimes,secretly,Ihadfeltslightlyhurt.Heseemedalmosttogooutofhiswaytodisparagemymentalpowers.
AlthoughIdidnotthinkhisownpowerswereflagging,Ididrealizesuddenlythatperhapshehadcometodependonmyaidmorethanheknew.
“Yes,”hesaiddreamily.“Youmaynotalwayscomprehendjusthowitisso—butyoudooften,andoftenpointtheway.”
Icouldhardlybelievemyears.
“Really,Poirot,”Istammered.“I’mawfullyglad,IsupposeI’velearntagooddealfromyouonewayoranother—”
Heshookhishead.
“Maisnon,cen’estpas?a.Youhavelearntnothing.”
“Oh!”Isaid,rathertakenaback.
“Thatisasitshouldbe.Nohumanbeingshouldlearnfromanother.Eachindividualshoulddevelophisownpowerstotheuttermost,nottrytoimitatethoseofsomeoneelse.IdonotwishyoutobeasecondandinferiorPoirot.IwishyoutobethesupremeHastings.AndyouarethesupremeHastings.Inyou,Hastings,Ifindthenormalmindalmostperfectlyillustrated.”
“I’mnotabnormal,Ihope,”Isaid.
“No,no.Youarebeautifullyandperfectlybalanced.Inyousanityispersonified.Doyourealizewhatthatmeanstome?Whenthecriminalsetsouttodoacrimehisfirsteffortistodeceive.Whodoesheseektodeceive?Theimageinhismindisthatofthenormalman.Thereisprobablynosuchthingactually—itisamathematicalabstraction.Butyoucomeasneartorealizingitasispossible.Therearemomentswhenyouhaveflashesofbrilliancewhenyouriseabovetheaverage,moments(Ihopeyouwillpardonme)whenyoudescendtocuriousdepthsofobtuseness,buttakeitallforall,youareamazinglynormal.Ehbien,howdoesthisprofitme?Simplyinthisway.AsinamirrorIseereflectedinyourmindexactlywhatthecriminalwishesmetobelieve.Thatisterrificallyhelpfulandsuggestive.”
Ididnotquiteunderstand.ItseemedtomethatwhatPoirotwassayingwashardlycomplimentary.However,hequicklydisabusedmeofthatimpression.
“Ihaveexpressedmyselfbadly,”hesaidquickly.“Youhaveaninsightintothecriminalmind,whichImyselflack.Youshowmewhatthecriminalwishesmetobelieve.Itisagreatgift.”
“Insight,”Isaidthoughtfully.“Yes,perhapsIhavegotinsight.”
Ilookedacrossthetableathim.Hewassmokinghistinycigarettesandregardingmewithgreatkindliness.
“CecherHastings,”hemurmured.“Ihaveindeedmuchaffectionforyou.”
Iwaspleasedbutembarrassedandhastenedtochangethesubject.
“Come,”Isaidinabusinesslikemanner.“Letusdiscussthecase.”
“Ehbien.”Poirotthrewhisheadback,hiseyesnarrowed.Heslowlypuffedoutsmoke.
“Jemeposedesquestions,”hesaid.
“Yes?”Isaideagerly.
“You,too,doubtless?”
“Certainly,”Isaid.AndalsoleaningbackandnarrowingmyowneyesIthrewout:
“WhokilledLordEdgware?”
Poirotimmediatelysatupandshookhisheadvigorously.
“No,no.Notatall.Isitaquestion,that?Youarelikesomeonewhoreadsthedetectivestoryandwhostartsguessingeachofthecharactersinturnwithoutrhymeorreason.Once,Iagree,Ihadtodothatmyself.Itwasaveryexceptionalcase.Iwilltellyouaboutitoneofthesedays.Itwasafeatherinmycap.Butofwhatwerewespeaking?”
“Ofthequestionsyouwere‘posing’toyourself,”Ireplieddryly.ItwasonthetipofmytonguetosuggestthatmyrealusetoPoirotwastoprovidehimwithacompaniontowhomhecouldboast,butIcontrolledmyself.Ifhewishedtoinstructthenlethim.
“Comeon,”Isaid.“Let’shearthem.”
Thatwasallthatthevanityofthemanwanted.Heleanedbackagainandresumedhisformerattitude.
“Thefirstquestionwehavealreadydiscussed.WhydidLordEdgwarechangehismindonthesubjectofdivorce?Oneortwoideassuggestthemselvestomeonthatsubject.Oneofthemyouknow.
“ThesecondquestionIaskmyselfisWhathappenedtothatletter?TowhoseinterestwasitthatLordEdgwareandhiswifeshouldcontinuetobetiedtogether?
“Three,Whatwasthemeaningoftheexpressiononhisfacethatyousawwhenyoulookedbackyesterdaymorningonleavingthelibrary?Haveyouanyanswertothat,Hastings?”
Ishookmyhead.
“Ican’tunderstandit.”
“Youaresurethatyoudidn’timagineit?Sometimes,Hastings,youhavetheimaginationunpeuvif.”
“No,no.”Ishookmyheadvigorously.“I’mquitesureIwasn’tmistaken.”
“Bien.Thenitisafacttobeexplained.Myfourthquestionconcernsthosepince-nez.NeitherJaneWilkinsonnorCarlottaAdamsworeglasses.What,then,aretheglassesdoinginCarlottaAdams’bag?
“Andformyfifthquestion.WhydidsomeonetelephonetofindoutifJaneWilkinsonwereatChiswickandwhowasit?
“Those,myfriend,arethequestionswithwhichIamtormentingmyself.IfIcouldanswerthose,Ishouldfeelhappierinmymind.IfIcouldevenevolveatheorythatexplainedthemsatisfactorily,myamourproprewouldnotsuffersomuch.”
“Thereareseveralotherquestions,”Isaid.
“Suchas?”
“WhoincitedCarlottaAdamstothishoax?Wherewasshethateveningbeforeandafterteno’clock?WhoisDwhogaveherthegoldenbox?”
“Thosequestionsareself-evident,”saidPoirot.“Thereisnosubtletyaboutthem.Theyaresimplythingswedonotknow.Theyarequestionsoffact.Wemaygettoknowthemanyminute.Myquestions,monami,arepsychological.Thelittlegreycellsofthebrain—”
“Poirot,”Isaiddesperately.IfeltthatImuststophimatallcosts.Icouldnotbeartohearitalloveragain.“Youspokeofmakingavisittonight?”
Poirotlookedathiswatch.
“True,”hesaid.“Iwilltelephoneandfindoutifitisconvenient.”
Hewentawayandreturnedafewminuteslater.
“Come,”hesaid.“Alliswell.”
“Wherearewegoing?”Iasked.
“TothehouseofSirMontaguCorneratChiswick.Iwouldliketoknowalittlemoreaboutthattelephonecall.”
Fifteen
SIRMONTAGUCORNER
Itwasaboutteno’clockwhenwereachedSirMontaguCorner’shouseontheriveratChiswick.Itwasabighousestandingbackinitsowngrounds.Wewereadmittedintoabeautifully-panelledhall.Onourright,throughanopendoor,wesawthediningroomwithitslongpolishedtablelitwithcandles.
“Willyoucomethisway,please?”
Thebutlerledthewayupabroadstaircaseandintoalongroomonthefirstflooroverlookingtheriver.
“M.HerculePoirot,”announcedthebutler.
Itwasabeautifully-proportionedroom,andhadanold-worldairwithitscarefully-shadeddimlamps.Inonecorneroftheroomwasabridgetable,setneartheopenwindow,androunditsatfourpeople.Asweenteredtheroomoneofthefourroseandcametowardsus.
“Itisagreatpleasuretomakeyouracquaintance,M.Poirot.”
IlookedwithsomeinterestatSirMontaguCorner.HehadadistinctlyJewishcastofcountenance,verysmallintelligentblackeyesandacarefully-arrangedtoupee.Hewasashortman—fivefooteightatmost,Ishouldsay.Hismannerwasaffectedtothelastdegree.
“Letmeintroduceyou.Mr.andMrs.Widburn.”
“We’vemetbefore,”saidMrs.Widburnbrightly.
“AndMr.Ross.”
Rosswasayoungfellowofabouttwenty-twowithapleasantfaceandfairhair
“Idisturbyourgame.Amillionapologies,”saidPoirot.
“Notatall.Wehavenotstarted.Wewerecommencingtodealthecardsonly.Somecoffee,M.Poirot?”
Poirotdeclinedbutacceptedanofferofoldbrandy.Itwasbroughtusinimmensegoblets.
Aswesippedit,SirMontagudiscoursed
HespokeofJapaneseprints,ofChineselacquer,ofPersiancarpets,oftheFrenchImpressionists,ofmodernmusicandofthetheoriesofEinstein.
Thenhesatbackandsmiledatusbeneficently.Hehadevidentlythoroughlyenjoyedhisperformance.Inthedimlighthelookedlikesomegenieofthemediaevalage.Allaroundtheroomwereexquisiteexamplesofartandculture.
“Andnow,SirMontagu,”saidPoirot,“Iwilltrespassonyourkindnessnolongerbutwillcometotheobjectofmyvisit.”
SirMontaguwavedacuriousclawlikehand.
“Thereisnohurry.Timeisinfinite.”
“Onealwaysfeelsthatinthishouse,”sighedMrs.Widburn.“Sowonderful.”
“IwouldnotliveinLondonforamillionpounds,”saidSirMontagu.“Hereoneisintheold-worldatmosphereofpeacethat—alas!—wehaveputbehindusinthesejarringdays.”
AsuddenimpishfancyflashedovermethatifsomeonewerereallytoofferSirMontaguamillionpounds,old-worldpeacemightgotothewall,butItroddownsuchhereticalsentiments.
“Whatismoney,afterall?”murmuredMrs.Widburn.
“Ah!”saidMr.Widburnthoughtfully,andrattledsomecoinsabsentmindedlyinhistrouserpocket.
“Charles,”saidMrs.Widburnreproachfully.
“Sorry,”saidMr.Widburnandstopped
“Tospeakofcrimeinsuchanatmosphere,is,Ifeel,unpardonable,”beganPoirotapologetically.
“Notatall.”SirMontaguwavedagracioushand.“Acrimecanbeaworkofart.Adetectivecanbeanartist.Idonotrefer,ofcourse,tothepolice.Aninspectorhasbeenheretoday.Acuriousperson.HehadneverheardofBenvenutoCellini,forinstance.”
“HecameaboutJaneWilkinson,Isuppose,”saidMrs.Widburnwithinstantcuriosity.
“Itwasfortunatefortheladythatshewasatyourhouselastnight,”saidPoirot.
“Soitseems,”saidSirMontagu.“IaskedherhereknowingthatshewasbeautifulandtalentedandhopingthatImightbeabletobeofusetoher.Shewasthinkingofgoingintomanagement.ButitseemsthatIwasfatedtobeofusetoherinaverydifferentway.”
“Jane’sgotluck,”saidMrs.Widburn.“She’sbeendyingtogetridofEdgwareandhere’ssomebodygoneandsavedherthetrouble.She’llmarrytheyoungDukeofMertonnow.Everyonesaysso.Hismother’swildaboutit.”
“Iwasfavourablyimpressedbyher,”saidSirMontagugraciously.“ShemadeseveralmostintelligentremarksaboutGreekart.”
IsmiledtomyselfpicturingJanesaying“Yes”and“No,”“Really,howwonderful,”inhermagicalhuskyvoice.SirMontaguwasthetypeofmantowhomintelligenceconsistedofthefacultyoflisteningtohisownremarkswithsuitableattention.
“Edgwarewasaqueerfish,byallaccounts,”saidWidburn.“Idaresayhe’sgotagoodfewenemies.”
“Isittrue,M.Poirot,”askedMrs.Widburn,“thatsomebodyranapenknifeintothebackofhisbrain?”
“Perfectlytrue,Madame.Itwasveryneatlyandefficientlydone—scientific,infact.”
“Inoteyourartisticpleasure,M.Poirot,”saidSirMontagu.
“Andnow,”saidPoirot,“letmecometotheobjectofmyvisit.LadyEdgwarewascalledtothetelephonewhenshewashereatdinner.ItisaboutthattelephonecallthatIseekinformation.Perhapsyouwillallowmetoquestionyourdomesticsonthesubject?”
“Certainly.Certainly.Justpressthatbell,willyou,Ross.”
Thebutleransweredthebell.Hewasatallmiddle-agedmanofecclesiasticalappearance.
SirMontaguexplainedwhatwaswanted.ThebutlerturnedtoPoirotwithpoliteattention.
“Whoansweredthetelephonewhenitrang?”beganPoirot.
“Ianswereditmyself,sir.Thetelephoneisinarecessleadingoutofthehall.”
“DidthepersoncallingasktospeaktoLadyEdgwareortoMissJaneWilkinson?”
“ToLadyEdgware,sir.”
“Whatdidtheysayexactly?”
Thebutlerreflectedforamoment.
“AsfarasIremember,sir,Isaid‘Hello.’AvoicethenaskedifIwasChiswick43434.Irepliedthatthatwasso.Itthenaskedmetoholdtheline.AnothervoicethenaskedifthatwasChiswick43434andonmyreplying‘Yes’itsaid,‘IsLadyEdgwarediningthere?’Isaidherladyshipwasdininghere.Thevoicesaid,‘Iwouldliketospeaktoher,please.’Iwentandinformedherladyshipwhowasatthedinnertable.Herladyshiprose,andIshowedherwherethe’phonewas.”
“Andthen?”
“Herladyshippickedupthereceiverandsaid:‘Hello—who’sspeaking?’Thenshesaid:‘Yes—that’sallright.LadyEdgwarespeaking.’Iwasjustabouttoleaveherladyshipwhenshecalledtomeandsaidtheyhadbeencutoff.Shesaidsomeonehadlaughedandevidentlyhungupthereceiver.Sheaskedmeifthepersonringinguphadgivenanyname.Theyhadnotdoneso.Thatwasallthatoccurred,sir.”
Poirotfrownedtohimself.
“Doyoureallythinkthetelephonecallhassomethingtodowiththemurder,M.Poirot?”askedMrs.Widburn.
“Impossibletosay,Madame.Itisjustacuriouscircumstance.”
“Peopledoringupforajokesometimes.It’sbeendonetome.”
“C’esttoujourspossible,Madame.”
Hespoketothebutleragain.
“Wasitaman’svoiceorawoman’swhorangup?”
“Alady’s,Ithink,sir.”
“Whatkindofavoice,highorlow?”
“Low,sir.Carefulandratherdistinct.”Hepaused.“Itmaybemyfancy,sir,butitsoundedlikeaforeignvoice.TheR’swereverynoticeable.”
“AsfarasthatgoesitmighthavebeenaScotchvoice,Donald,”saidMrs.Widburn,smilingatRoss.
Rosslaughed.
“Notguilty,”hesaid.“Iwasatthedinnertable.”
Poirotspokeonceagaintothebutler.
“Doyouthink,”heasked,“thatyoucouldrecognizethatvoiceifyouweretohearitanytime?”
Thebutlerhesitated.
“Icouldn’tquitesay,sir.Imightdoso.IthinkitispossiblethatIshoulddoso.”
“Ithankyou,myfriend.”
“Thankyou,sir.”
Thebutlerinclinedhisheadandwithdrew,pontificialtothelast.
SirMontaguCornercontinuedtobeveryfriendlyandtoplayhisroleofold-worldcharm.Hepersuadedustoremainandplaybridge.Iexcusedmyself—thestakeswerebiggerthanIcaredabout.YoungRossseemedrelievedalsoattheprospectofsomeonetakinghishand.HeandIsatlookingonwhiletheotherfourplayed.TheeveningendedinaheavyfinancialgaintoPoirotandSirMontagu.
Thenwethankedourhostandtookourdeparture.Rosscamewithus.
“Astrangelittleman,”saidPoirotaswesteppedoutintothenight.
Thenightwasfineandwehaddecidedtowalkuntilwepickedupataxiinsteadofhavingonetelephonedfor.
“Yes,astrangelittleman,”saidPoirotagain.
“Averyrichlittleman,”saidRosswithfeeling.
“Isupposeso.”
“Heseemstohavetakenafancytome,”saidRoss.“Hopeitwilllast.Amanlikethatbehindyoumeansalot.”
“Youareanactor,Mr.Ross?”
Rosssaidthathewas.Heseemedsadthathisnamehadnotbroughtinstantrecognition.ApparentlyhehadrecentlywonmarvellousnoticesinsomegloomyplaytranslatedfromtheRussian.
WhenPoirotandIbetweenushadsoothedhimdownagain,Poirotaskedcasually:
“YouknewCarlottaAdams,didyounot?”
“No.Isawherdeathannouncedinthepapertonight.Overdoseofsomedrugorother.Idioticthewayallthesegirlsdope.”
“Itissad,yes.Shewasclever,too.”
“Isupposeso.”
Hedisplayedacharacteristiclackofinterestinanyoneelse’sperformancebuthisown.
“Didyouseehershowatall?”Iasked.
“No.Thatsortofthing’snotmuchinmyline.Kindofcrazeforitatpresent,butIdon’tthinkitwilllast.”
“Ah!”saidPoirot.“Hereisataxi.”
Hewavedastick.
“ThinkI’llwalk,”saidRoss.“IgetatubestraighthomefromHammersmith.”
Suddenlyhegaveanervouslaugh.
“Oddthing,”hesaid.“Thatdinnerlastnight.”
“Yes?”
“Wewerethirteen.Somefellowfailedatthelastminute.Wenevernoticedtilljusttheendofdinner.”
“Andwhogotupfirst?”Iasked.
Hegaveaqueerlittlenervouscackleoflaughter.
“Idid,”hesaid.
Sixteen
MAINLYDISCUSSION
WhenwegothomewefoundJappwaitingforus.
“ThoughtI’djustcallroundandhaveachatwithyoubeforeturningin,M.Poirot,”hesaidcheerfully.
“Ehbien,mygoodfriend,howgoesit?”
“Well,itdoesn’tgoanytoowell.Andthat’safact.”
Helookeddistressed.
“Gotanyhelpforme,M.Poirot?”
“IhaveoneortwolittleideasthatIshouldliketopresenttoyou,”saidPoirot.
“Youandyourideas!Insomeways,youknow,you’reacaution.NotthatIdon’twanttohearthem.Ido.There’ssomegoodstuffinthatfunny-shapedheadofyours.”
Poirotacknowledgedthecomplimentsomewhatcoldly.
“Haveyouanyideasaboutthedoubleladyproblem—that’swhatIwanttoknow?Eh,M.Poirot?Whataboutit?Whowasshe?”
“ThatisexactlywhatIwishtotalktoyouabout.”
HeaskedJappifhehadeverheardofCarlottaAdams.
“I’veheardthename.ForthemomentIcan’tjustplaceit.”
Poirotexplained.
“Her!Doesimitationsdoesshe?Nowwhatmadeyoufixonher?Whathaveyougottogoon?”
Poirotrelatedthestepswehadtakenandtheconclusionwehaddrawn.
“BytheLord,itlooksasthoughyouwereright.Clothes,hat,gloves,etc.,andthefairwig.Yes,itmustbe.Iwillsay—you’rethegoods,M.Poirot.Smartwork,that!NotthatIthinkthere’sanythingtoshowshewasputoutoftheway.Thatseemsabitfarfetched.Idon’tquiteseeeyetoeyewithyouthere.Yourtheoryisabitfantasticalforme.I’vemoreexperiencethanyouhave.Idon’tbelieveinthisvillain-behind-the-scenesmotif.CarlottaAdamswasthewomanallright,butIshouldputitoneoftwoways.Shewentthereforpurposesofherown—blackmail,maybe,sinceshehintedshewasgoingtogetmoney.Theyhadabitofadispute.Heturnednasty,sheturnednasty,andshefinishedhimoff.AndIshouldsaythatwhenshegothomeshewentalltopieces.Shehadn’tmeantmurder.It’smybeliefshetookanoverdoseonpurposeastheeasiestwayout.”
“Youthinkthatcoversallthefacts?”
“Well,naturallytherearealotofthingswedon’tknowyet.It’sagoodworkinghypothesistogoonwith.Theotherexplanationisthatthehoaxandthemurderhadnothingtodowitheachother.It’sjustadamnedqueercoincidence.”
Poirotdidnotagree,Iknew.Buthemerelysaidnoncommittally:
“Maisoui,c’estpossible.”
“Or,lookhere,how’sthis?Thehoaxisinnocentenough.Someonegetstohearofitandthinksitwillsuittheirpurposejollywell.That’snotabadidea?”Hepausedandwenton:“ButpersonallyIpreferideaNo.1.Whatthelinkwasbetweenhislordshipandthegirlwe’llfindoutsomehoworother.”
PoirottoldhimofthelettertoAmericapostedbythemaid,andJappagreedthatthatmightpossiblybeofgreatassistance.
“I’llgetontothatatonce,”hesaid,makinganoteofitinhislittlebook.
“I’mthemoreinfavouroftheladybeingthekillerbecauseIcan’tfindanyoneelse,”hesaid,asheputthebookaway.“CaptainMarsh,now,hislordshipasnowis.He’sgotamotivestickingoutayard.Abadrecordtoo.Hardupandnonetooscrupulousovermoney.What’smorehehadarowwithhisuncleyesterdaymorning.Hetoldmethathimselfasamatteroffact—whichrathertakesthetasteoutofit.Yes,he’dbealikelycustomer.Buthe’sgotanalibiforyesterdayevening.HewasattheoperawiththeDortheimers.RichJews.GrosvenorSquare.I’velookedintothatandit’sallright.Hedinedwiththem,wenttotheoperaandtheywentontosupperatSobranis.Sothat’sthat.”
“AndMademoiselle?”
“Thedaughter,youmean?Shewasoutofthehousetoo.DinedwithsomepeoplecalledCarthewWest.Theytookhertotheoperaandsawherhomeafterwards.Quartertotwelveshegotin.Thatdisposesofher.Thesecretarywomanseemsallright—veryefficientdecentwoman.Thenthere’sthebutler.Ican’tsayItaketohimmuch.Itisn’tnaturalforamantohavegoodlookslikethat.There’ssomethingfishyabouthim—andsomethingoddaboutthewayhecametoenterLordEdgware’sservice.Yes,I’mcheckinguponhimallright.Ican’tseeanymotiveformurder,though.”
“Nofreshfactshavecometolight?”
“Yes,oneortwo.It’shardtosaywhethertheymeananythingornot.Foronething,LordEdgware’skey’smissing.”
“Thekeytothefrontdoor?”
“Yes.”
“Thatisinteresting,certainly.”
“AsIsay,itmaymeanagooddealornothingatall.Depends.Whatisabitmoresignificanttomymindisthis.LordEdgwarecashedachequeyesterday—notaparticularlylargeone—ahundredpoundsasamatteroffact.HetookthemoneyinFrenchnotes—that’swhyhecashedthecheque,becauseofhisjourneytoParistoday.Well,thatmoneyhasdisappeared.”
“Whotoldyouofthis?”
“MissCarroll.Shecashedthechequeandobtainedthemoney.Shementionedittome,andthenIfoundthatithadgone.”
“Wherewasityesterdayevening?”
“MissCarrolldoesn’tknow.ShegaveittoLordEdgwareabouthalfpastthree.Itwasinabankenvelope.Hewasinthelibraryatthetime.Hetookitandlaiditdownbesidehimonatable.”
“Thatcertainlygivesonetothink.Itisacomplication.”
“Orasimplification.Bytheway—thewound.”
“Yes?”
“Thedoctorsaysitwasn’tmadebyanordinarypenknife.Somethingofthatkindbutadifferentshapedblade.Anditwasamazinglysharp.”
“Notarazor?”
“No,no.Muchsmaller.”
Poirotfrownedthoughtfully.
“ThenewLordEdgwareseemstobefondofhisjoke,”remarkedJapp.“Heseemstothinkitamusingtobesuspectedofmurder.Hemadesurewedidsuspecthimofmurder,too.Looksabitqueer,that.”
“Itmightbemerelyintelligence.”
“Morelikelyguiltyconscience.Hisuncle’sdeathcameverypatforhim.He’smovedintothehouse,bytheway.”
“Wherewashelivingbefore?”
“MartinStreet,St.George’sRoad.Notaveryswellneighbourhood.”
“Youmightmakeanoteofthat,Hastings.”
Ididso,thoughIwonderedalittle.IfRonaldhadmovedtoRegentGate,hisformeraddresswashardlylikelytobeneeded.
“IthinktheAdamsgirldidit,”saidJapp,rising.“Afinebitofworkonyourpart,M.Poirot,totumbletothat.Butthere,ofcourse,yougoabouttotheatresandamusingyourself.Thingsstrikeyouthatdon’tgetthechanceofstrikingme.Pitythere’snoapparentmotive,butalittlespadeworkwillsoonbringittolight,Iexpect.”
“Thereisonepersonwithamotivetowhomyouhavegivennoattention,”remarkedPoirot.
“Who’sthat,sir?”
“ThegentlemanwhoisreputedtohavewantedtomarryLordEdgware’swife.ImeantheDukeofMerton.”
“Yes.Isupposethereisamotive.”Japplaughed.“Butagentlemaninhispositionisn’tlikelytodomurder.Andanyway,he’soverinParis.”
“Youdonotregardhimasaserioussuspect,then?”
“Well,M.Poirot,doyou?”
Andlaughingattheabsurdityoftheidea,Jappleftus.
Seventeen
THEBUTLER
Thefollowingdaywasoneofinactivityforus,andactivityforJapp.Hecameroundtoseeusaboutteatime.
Hewasredandwrathful.
“I’vemadeabloomer.”
“Impossible,myfriend,”saidPoirotsoothingly.
“Yes,Ihave.I’veletthat(herehegavewaytoprofanity)—ofabutlerslipthroughmyfingers.”
“Hehasdisappeared?”
“Yes.Hookedit.Whatmakesmekickmyselfforadouble-dyedidiotisthatIdidn’tparticularlysuspecthim.”
“Calmyourself—butcalmyourselfthen.”
“Allverywelltotalk.Youwouldn’tbecalmifyou’dbeenhauledoverthecoalsatheadquarters.Oh!he’saslipperycustomer.Itisn’tthefirsttimehe’sgivenanyonetheslip.He’sanoldhand.”
Jappwipedhisforeheadandlookedthepictureofmisery.Poirotmadesympatheticnoises—somewhatsuggestiveofahenlayinganegg.WithmoreinsightintotheEnglishcharacter,Ipouredoutastiffwhiskyandsodaandplaceditinfrontofthegloomyinspector.Hebrightenedalittle.
“Well,”hesaid.“Idon’tmindifIdo.”
Presentlyhebegantotalkmorecheerfully.
“I’mnotsosureevennowthathe’sthemurderer!Ofcourseitlooksbadhisboltingthisway,buttheremightbeotherreasonsforthat.I’dbeguntogetontohim,yousee.Seemshe’smixedupwithacoupleofdisreputablenightclubs.Nottheusualthing.Somethingagreatdealmorerecherchéandnasty.Infact,he’sarealbadhat.”
“Toutdemême,thatdoesnotnecessarilymeanthatheisamurderer.”
“Exactly!Hemayhavebeenuptosomefunnybusinessorother,butnotnecessarilymurder.No,I’mmorethaneverconvinceditwastheAdamsgirl.I’vegotnothingtoproveitasyet,though.I’vehadmengoingallthroughherflattoday,butwe’vefoundnothingthat’shelpful.Shewasacannyone.Keptnolettersexceptafewbusinessonesaboutfinancialcontracts.They’reallneatlydocketedandlabelled.CoupleoflettersfromhersisterinWashington.Quitestraightandaboveboard.Oneortwopiecesofgoodold-fashionedjewellery—nothingneworexpensive.Shedidn’tkeepadiary.Herpassbookandchequebookdon’tshowanythinghelpful.Dashitall,thegirldoesn’tseemtohavehadanyprivatelifeatall!”
“Shewasofareservedcharacter,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.“Fromourpointofviewthatisapity.”
“I’vetalkedtothewomanwhodidforher.Nothingthere.I’vebeenandseenthatgirlwhokeepsahatshopandwho,itseems,wasafriendofhers.”
“Ah!andwhatdoyouthinkofMissDriver?”
“Sheseemedasmartwide-awakebitofgoods.Shecouldn’thelpme,though.Notthatthatsurprisesme.TheamountofmissinggirlsI’vehadtotraceandtheirfamilyandtheirfriendsalwayssaythesamethings.‘Shewasofabrightandaffectionatedispositionandhadnomenfriends.’That’snevertrue.It’sunnatural.Girlsoughttohavemenfriends.Ifnotthere’ssomethingwrongwiththem.It’sthemuddle-headedloyaltyoffriendsandrelationsthatmakesadetective’slifesodifficult.”
Hepausedforwantofbreath,andIreplenishedhisglass.
“Thankyou,CaptainHastings,Idon’tmindifIdo.Well,thereyouare.You’vegottohuntandhuntabout.There’saboutadozenyoungmenshewentouttosupperanddancedwith,butnothingtoshowthatoneofthemmeantmorethananother.There’sthepresentLordEdgware,there’sMr.BryanMartin,thefilmstar,there’shalfadozenothers—butnothingspecialandparticular.Yourmanbehindideaisallwrong.Ithinkyou’llfindthatsheplayedalonehand,M.Poirot.I’mlookingnowfortheconnectionbetweenherandthemurderedman.Thatmustexist.IthinkI’llhavetogoovertoParis.TherewasPariswritteninthatlittlegoldbox,andthelateLordEdgwareranovertoParisseveraltimeslastAutumn,soMissCarrolltellsme,attendingsalesandbuyingcurios.Yes,IthinkImustgoovertoParis.Inquest’stomorrow.It’llbeadjourned,ofcourse.AfterthatI’lltaketheafternoonboat.”
“Youhaveafuriousenergy,Japp.Itamazesme.”
“Yes,you’regettinglazy.Youjustsithereandthink!Whatyoucallemployingthelittlegreycells.Nogood,you’vegottogoouttothings.Theywon’tcometoyou.”
Thelittlemaidservantopenedthedoor.
“Mr.BryanMartin,sir.Areyoubusyorwillyouseehim?”
“I’moff,M.Poirot.”Japphoistedhimselfup.“Allthestarsofthetheatricalworldseemtoconsultyou.”
Poirotshruggedamodestshoulder,andJapplaughed.
“Youmustbeamillionairebynow,M.Poirot.Whatdoyoudowiththemoney?Saveit?”
“AssuredlyIpractisethethrift.Andtalkingofthedisposalofmoney,howdidLordEdgwaredisposeofhis?”
“Suchpropertyaswasn’tentailedhelefttohisdaughter.FivehundredtoMissCarroll.Nootherbequests.Verysimplewill.”
“Anditwasmade—when?”
“Afterhiswifelefthim—justovertwoyearsago.Heexpresslyexcludesherfromparticipation,bytheway.”
“Avindictiveman,”murmuredPoirottohimself.
Withacheerful“Solong,”Jappdeparted.
BryanMartinentered.Hewasfaultlesslyattiredandlookedextremelyhandsome.YetIthoughtthathelookedhaggardandnottoohappy.
“IamafraidIhavebeenalongtimecoming,M.Poirot,”hesaidapologetically.“And,afterall,Ihavebeenguiltyoftakingupyourtimefornothing.”
“Enverité?”
“Yes.Ihaveseentheladyinquestion.I’vearguedwithher,pleadedwithher,butalltonopurpose.Shewon’thearofmyinterestingyouinthematter.SoI’mafraidwe’llhavetoletthethingdrop.I’mverysorry—verysorrytohavebotheredyou—”
“Dutout—dutout,”saidPoirotgenially.“Iexpectedthis.”
“Eh?”Theyoungmanseemedtakenaback.
“Youexpectedthis?”heaskedinapuzzledway.
“Maisoui.Whenyouspokeofconsultingyourfriend—Icouldhavepredictedthatallwouldhavearrivedasithasdone.”
“Youhaveatheory,then?”
“Adetective,M.Martin,alwayshasatheory.Itisexpectedofhim.Idonotcallitatheorymyself.IsaythatIhavealittleidea.Thatisthefirststage.”
“Andthesecondstage?”
“Ifthelittleideaturnsouttoberight—thenIknow!Itisquitesimple,yousee.”
“Iwishyou’dtellmewhatyourtheory—oryourlittleidea—is?”
Poirotshookhisheadgently.
“Thatisanotherrule.Thedetectivenevertells.”
“Can’tyousuggestiteven?”
“No.IwillonlysaythatIformedmytheoryassoonasyoumentionedagoldtooth.”
BryanMartinstaredathim.
“I’mabsolutelybewildered,”hedeclared.“Ican’tmakeoutwhatyouaredrivingat.Ifyou’djustgivemeahint.”
Poirotsmiledandshookhishead.
“Letuschangethesubject.”
“Yes,butfirst—yourfee—youmustletme.”
Poirotwavedanimperioushand.
“Pasunsou!Ihavedonenothingtoaidyou.”
“Itookupyourtime—”
“Whenacaseinterestsme,Idonottouchmoney.Yourcaseinterestedmeverymuch.”
“I’mglad,”saidtheactoruneasily.
Helookedsupremelyunhappy.
“Come,”saidPoirotkindly.“Letustalkofsomethingelse.”
“Wasn’tthattheScotlandYardmanwhomImetonthestairs?”
“Yes,InspectorJapp.”
“Thelightwassodim,Iwasn’tsure.Bytheway,hecameroundandaskedmesomequestionsaboutthatpoorgirl,CarlottaAdams,whodiedofanoverdoseofveronal.”
“Youknewherwell—MissAdams?”
“Notverywell.IknewherasachildinAmerica.IcameacrossherhereonceortwicebutIneversawverymuchofher.Iwasverysorrytohearofherdeath.”
“Youlikedher?”
“Yes.Shewasextraordinarilyeasytotalkto.”
“Apersonalityverysympathetic—yes,Ifoundthesame.”
“Isupposetheythinkitmightbesuicide?Iknewnothingthatcouldhelptheinspector.Carlottawasalwaysveryreservedaboutherself.”
“Idonotthinkitwassuicide,”saidPoirot.
“Farmorelikelytobeanaccident,Iagree.”
Therewasapause.
ThenPoirotsaidwithasmile:
“TheaffairofLordEdgware’sdeathbecomesintriguing,doesitnot?”
“Absolutelyamazing.Doyouknow—havetheyanyidea—whodidit—nowthatJaneisdefinitelyoutofit?”
“Maisoui—theyhaveaverystrongsuspicion.”
BryanMartinlookedexcited.
“Really?Who?”
“Thebutlerhasdisappeared.Youcomprehend—flightisasgoodasaconfession.”
“Thebutler!Really,yousurpriseme.”
“Asingularlygood-lookingman.Ilvousressembleunpeu.”Hebowedinacomplimentaryfashion.
Ofcourse!Irealizednowwhythebutler’sfacehadstruckmeasbeingfaintlyfamiliarwhenIfirstsawit.
“Youflatterme,”saidBryanMartinwithalaugh.
“No,no,no.Donotalltheyounggirls,theservantgirls,theflappers,thetypists,thegirlsofsociety,dotheynotalladoreM.BryanMartin?Isthereonewhocanresistyou?”
“Alot,Ishouldthink,”saidMartin.Hegotupabruptly.
“Well,thankyouverymuch,M.Poirot.Letmeapologizeagainforhavingtroubledyou.”
Heshookhandswithusboth.Suddenly,Inoticedhelookedmucholder.Thehaggardlookwasmoreapparent.
Iwasdevouredwithcuriosity,andassoonasthedoorclosedbehindhim,IburstoutwithwhatIwantedtoknow.
“Poirot,didyoureallyexpecthimtocomebackandrelinquishallideaofinvestigatingthosequeerthingsthathappenedtohiminAmerica?”
“Youheardmesayso,Hastings.”
“Butthen—”Ifollowedthethingoutlogically.
“Thenyoumustknowwhothismysteriousgirlisthathehadtoconsult?”
Hesmiled.
“Ihavealittleidea,myfriend.AsItoldyou,itstartedfromthementionofthegoldtooth,andifmylittleideaiscorrect,Iknowwhothegirlis,IknowwhyshewillnotletM.Martinconsultme.Iknowthetruthofthewholeaffair.AndsocouldyouknowitifyouwouldonlyusethebrainsthegoodGodhasgivenyou.SometimesIreallyamtemptedtobelievethatbyinadvertenceHepassedyouby.”
Eighteen
THEOTHERMAN
IdonotproposetodescribeeithertheinquestonLordEdgwareorthatonCarlottaAdams.InCarlotta’scasetheverdictwasDeathbyMisadventure.InthecaseofLordEdgwaretheinquestwasadjourned,afterevidenceofidentificationandthemedicalevidencehadbeengiven.Asaresultoftheanalysisofthestomach,thetimeofdeathwasfixedashavingoccurrednotlessthananhourafterthecompletionofdinner,withpossibleextensiontoanhourafterthat.Thisputitasbetweentenandeleveno’clock,withtheprobabilityinfavouroftheearliertime.
NoneofthefactsconcerningCarlotta’simpersonationofJaneWilkinsonwereallowedtoleakout.Adescriptionofthewantedbutlerwaspublishedinthepress,andthegeneralimpressionseemedtobethatthebutlerwasthemanwanted.HisstoryofJaneWilkinson’svisitwaslookeduponasanimpudentfabrication.Nothingwassaidofthesecretary’scorroboratingtestimony.Therewerecolumnsconcerningthemurderinallthepapers,butlittlerealinformation
MeanwhileJappwasactivelyatwork,Iknew.ItvexedmealittlethatPoirotadoptedsuchaninertattitude.Thesuspicionthatapproachingoldagehadsomethingtodowithitflashedacrossme—notforthefirsttime.Hemadeexcusestomewhichdidnotringveryconvincingly.
“Atmytimeoflifeonesavesoneselfthetrouble,”heexplained.
“But,Poirot,mydearfellow,youmustn’tthinkofyourselfasold,”Iprotested.
Ifeltthatheneededbracing.Treatmentbysuggestion—that,Iknow,isthemodernidea.
“Youareasfullofvigouraseveryouwere,”Isaidearnestly.“You’reintheprimeoflife,Poirot.Attheheightofyourpowers.Youcouldgooutandsolvethiscasemagnificentlyifyouonlywould.”
Poirotrepliedthathepreferredtosolveitsittingathome.
“Butyoucan’tdothat,Poirot.”
“Notentirely,itistrue.”
“WhatImeanis,wearedoingnothing!Jappisdoingeverything.”
“Whichsuitsmeadmirably.”
“Itdoesn’tsuitmeatall.Iwantyoutobedoingthings.”
“SoIam.”
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Waiting.”
“Waitingforwhat?”
“Pourquemonchiendechassemerapportelegibier,”repliedPoirotwithatwinkle.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“ImeanthegoodJapp.Whykeepadogandbarkyourself?Jappbringsusheretheresultofthephysicalenergyyouadmiresomuch.HehasvariousmeansathisdisposalwhichIhavenot.Hewillhavenewsforusverysoon,Idonotdoubt.”
Bydintofpersistentinquiry,itwastruethatJappwasslowlygettingtogethermaterial.HehaddrawnablankinParis,butacoupleofdayslaterhecameinlookingpleasedwithhimself.
“It’sslowwork,”hesaid.“Butwe’regettingsomewhereatlast.”
“Icongratulateyou,myfriend.Whathashappened?”
“I’vediscoveredthatafair-hairedladydepositedanattachécaseinthecloakroomatEustonatnineo’clockthatnight.They’vebeenshownMissAdams’caseandidentifyitpositively.It’sofAmericanmakeandsojustalittledifferent.”
“Ah!Euston.Yes,thenearestofthebigstationstoRegentGate.Shewenttheredoubtless,madeherselfupinthelavatory,andthenleftthecase.Whenwasittakenoutagain?”
“Athalfpastten.Theclerksaysbythesamelady.”
Poirotnodded.
“AndI’vecomeonsomethingelsetoo.I’vereasontobelievethatCarlottaAdamswasinLyonsCornerHouseintheStrandateleveno’clock.”
“Ah!c’esttrêsbien?a!Howdidyoucomeacrossthat?”
“Well,reallymoreorlessbychance.Yousee,there’sbeenamentioninthepapersofthelittlegoldboxwiththerubyinitials.Somereporterwroteitup—hewasdoinganarticleontheprevalenceofdope-takingamongyoungactresses.Sundaypaperromanticstuff.Thefatallittlegoldboxwithitsdeadlycontents—patheticfigureofayounggirlwithalltheworldbeforeher!Andjustawonderexpressedastowhereshepassedherlasteveningandhowshefeltandsoonandsoon.
“Well,itseemsawaitressattheCornerHousereadthisandsherememberedthataladyshehadservedthateveninghadhadsuchaboxinherhand.SherememberedtheC.A.onit.Andshegotexcitedandbegantalkingtoallherfriends—perhapsapaperwouldgivehersomething?
“Ayoungnewspapermansoongotontoitandthere’sgoingtobeagoodsobstuffarticleintonight’sEveningShriek.Thelasthoursofthetalentedactress.Waiting—forthemanwhonevercame—andagoodbitabouttheactress’ssympatheticintuitionthatsomethingwasnotwellwithhersisterwoman.Youknowthekindofbilge,M.Poirot?”
“Andhowhasitcometoyourearssoquickly?”
“Oh!well,we’reonverygoodtermswiththeEveningShriek.Itgotpassedontomewhiletheirparticularbrightyoungmantriedtogetsomenewsoutofmeaboutsomethingelse.SoIrushedalongtotheCornerHousestraightaway—”
Yes,thatwasthewaythingsoughttobedone.IfeltapangofpityforPoirot.HerewasJappgettingallthisnewsatfirsthand—quitepossiblymissingvaluabledetails,andherewasPoirotplacidlycontentwithstalenews.
“Isawthegirl—andIdon’tthinkthere’smuchdoubtaboutit.Shecouldn’tpickoutCarlottaAdams’photograph,butthenshesaidshedidn’tnoticethelady’sfaceparticularly.Shewasyounganddarkandslim,andverywell-dressed,thegirlsaid.Hadgotononeofthenewhats.Iwishwomenlookedatfacesabitmoreandhatsabitless.”
“ThefaceofMissAdamsisnotaneasyonetoobserve,”saidPoirot.“Ithadthemobility,thesensitiveness—thefluidquality.”
“Idaresayyou’reright.Idon’tgoinforanalysingthesethings.Dressedinblacktheladywas,sothegirlsaid,andshehadanattachécasewithher.Thegirlnoticedthatparticularly,becauseitstruckherasoddthataladysowell-dressedshouldbecarryingacaseabout.Sheorderedsomescrambledeggsandsomecoffee,butthegirlthinksshewasputtingintimeandwaitingforsomeone.She’dgotawristwatchonandshekeptlookingatit.Itwaswhenthegirlcametogiveherthebillthatshenoticedthebox.Theladytookitoutofherhandbagandhaditonthetablelookingatit.Sheopenedthelidandshutitdownagain.Shewassmilinginapleaseddreamysortofway.Thegirlnoticedtheboxparticularlybecauseitwassuchalovelything.‘I’dliketohaveagoldboxwithmyinitialsinrubiesonit!’shesaid.
“ApparentlyMissAdamssattheresometimeafterpayingherbill.Then,finally,shelookedatherwatchoncemore,seemedtogiveitupandwentout.”
Poirotwasfrowning.
“Itwasarendezvous,”hemurmured.“Arendezvouswithsomeonewhodidnotturnup.DidCarlottaAdamsmeetthatpersonafterwards?Ordidshefailtomeethimandgohomeandtrytoringhimup?IwishIknew—oh!howIwishIknew.”
“That’syourtheory,M.Poirot.MysteriousMan-in-the-Background.ThatMan-in-the-Background’samyth.Idon’tsayshemayn’thavebeenwaitingforsomeone—that’spossible.Shemayhavemadeanappointmenttomeetsomeonethereafterherbusinesswithhislordshipwassettledsatisfactorily.Well,weknowwhathappened.Shelostherheadandstabbedhim.Butshe’snotonetoloseherheadforlong.Shechangesherappearanceatthestation,getsoutthecase,goestotherendezvous,andthenwhattheycallthe‘reaction’getsher.Horrorofwhatshe’ddone.Andwhenherfrienddoesn’tturnup,thatfinishedher.HemaybesomeonewhoknewshewasgoingtoRegentGatethatevening.Shefeelsthegame’sup.Soshetakesoutherlittleboxofdope.Anoverdoseofthatandit’llbeallover.Atanyrateshewon’tbehanged.Why,it’sasplainasthenoseonyourface.”
Poirot’shandstrayeddoubtfullytohisnose,thenhisfingersdroppedtohismoustaches.Hecaressedthemtenderlywithaproudexpression.
“TherewasnoevidenceatallofamysteriousMan-in-the-Background,”saidJapp,pursuinghisadvantagedoggedly.“Ihaven’tgotevidenceyetofaconnectionbetweenherandhislordship,butIshalldo—it’sonlyaquestionoftime.ImustsayI’mdisappointedaboutParis,butninemonthsagoisalongtime.I’vestillgotsomeonemakinginquiriesoverthere.Somethingmaycometolightyet.Iknowyoudon’tthinkso.You’reapigheadedoldboy,youknow.”
“Youinsultfirstmynoseandthenmyhead!”
“Figureofspeech,that’sall,”saidJappsoothingly.“Nooffencemeant.”
“Theanswertothat,”Isaid,“is‘nortaken.’”
Poirotlookedfromonetotheotherofuscompletelypuzzled.
“Anyorders?”inquiredJappfacetiouslyfromthedoor.Poirotsmiledforgivinglyathim.
“Anorder,no.Asuggestion—yes.”
“Well,whatisit?Outwithit.”
“Asuggestionthatyoucircularizethetaxicabs.Findonethattookafare—ormoreprobablytwofares—yes,twofares—fromtheneighbourhoodofCoventGardentoRegentGateonthenightofthemurder.Astotimeitwouldprobablybeabouttwentyminutestoeleven.”
Jappcockedaneyealertly.Hehadthelookofasmartterrierdog.
“So,that’stheidea,isit?”hesaid.“Well,I’lldoit.Can’tdoanyharm—andyousometimesknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.”
NosoonerhadheleftthanPoirotaroseandwithgreatenergybegantobrushhishat.
“Askmenoquestions,myfriend.Insteadbringmethebenzine.Amorselofomelettethismorningdescendedonmywaistcoat.”
Ibroughtittohim.
“Foronce,”Isaid.“IdonotthinkIneedtoaskquestions.Itseemsfairlyobvious.Butdoyouthinkitreallyisso?”
“Monami,atthemomentIconcernmyselfsolelywiththetoilet.Ifyouwillpardonmesayingso,yourtiedoesnotpleaseme.”
“It’sajollygoodtie,”Isaid.
“Possibly—once.ItfeelstheoldageasyouhavebeenkindenoughtosayIdo.Changeit,Ibeseechyou,andalsobrushtherightsleeve.”
“AreweproposingtocallonKingGeorge?”Iinquiredsarcastically.
“No.ButIsawinthenewspaperthismorningthattheDukeofMertonhadreturnedtoMertonHouse.IunderstandheisapremiermemberoftheEnglisharistocracy.Iwishtodohimallhonour.”
ThereisnothingoftheSocialistaboutPoirot.
“WhyarewegoingtocallontheDukeofMerton?”
“Iwishtoseehim.”
ThatwasallIcouldgetoutofhim.WhenmyattirewasatlasthandsomeenoughtopleasePoirot’scriticaleye,westartedout.
AtMertonHouse,Poirotwasaskedbyafootmanifhehadanappointment.Poirotrepliedinthenegative.ThefootmanboreawaythecardandreturnedshortlytosaythatHisGracewasverysorrybuthewasextremelybusythismorning.Poirotimmediatelysatdowninachair.
“Trésbien,”hesaid.“Iwait.Iwillwaitseveralhoursifneedbe.”
This,however,wasnotnecessary.Probablyastheshortestwayofgettingridoftheimportunatecaller,Poirotwasbiddentothepresenceofthegentlemanhedesiredtosee.
TheDukewasabouttwenty-sevenyearsofage.Hewashardlyprepossessinginappearance,beingthinandweakly.Hehadnondescriptthinhairgoingbaldatthetemples,asmallbittermouthandvaguedreamyeyes.Therewereseveralcrucifixesintheroomandvariousreligiousworksofart.Awideshelfofbooksseemedtocontainnothingbuttheologicalworks.Helookedfarmorelikeaweedyyounghaberdasherthanlikeaduke.Hehad,Iknew,beeneducatedathome,havingbeenaterriblydelicatechild.ThiswasthemanwhohadfallenanimmediatepreytoJaneWilkinson!Itwasreallyludicrousintheextreme.Hismannerwaspriggishandhisreceptionofusjustshortofcourteous.
“Youmay,perhaps,knowmyname,”beganPoirot.
“Ihavenoacquaintancewithit.”
“Istudythepsychologyofcrime.”
TheDukewassilent.Hewassittingatawritingtable,anunfinishedletterbeforehim.Hetappedimpatientlyonthedeskwithhispen.
“Forwhatreasondoyouwishtoseeme?”heinquiredcoldly.
Poirotwassittingoppositehim.Hisbackwastothewindow.TheDukewasfacingit.
“IamatpresentengagedoninvestigatingthecircumstancesconnectedwithLordEdgware’sdeath.”
Notamuscleoftheweakbutobstinatefacemoved.
“Indeed?Iwasnotacquaintedwithhim.”
“Butyouare,Ithink,acquaintedwithhiswife—withMissJaneWilkinson?”
“Thatisso.”
“Youareawarethatsheissupposedtohavehadastrongmotivefordesiringthedeathofherhusband?”
“Iamreallynotawareofanythingofthekind.”
“Ishouldliketoaskyououtright,YourGrace.AreyoushortlygoingtomarryMissJaneWilkinson?”
“WhenIamengagedtomarryanyonethefactwillbeannouncedinthenewspapers.Iconsideryourquestionanimpertinence.”Hestoodup.“Goodmorning.”
Poirotstoodupalso.Helookedawkward.Hehunghishead.Hestammered.
“Ididnotmean…I…Jevousdemandepardon….”
“Goodmorning,”repeatedtheDuke,alittlelouder.
ThistimePoirotgaveitup.Hemadeacharacteristicgestureofhopelessness,andweleft.Itwasanignominiousdismissal.
IfeltrathersorryforPoirot.Hisusualbombasthadnotgonewell.TotheDukeofMertonagreatdetectivewasevidentlylowerthanablackbeetle.
“Thatdidn’tgotoowell,”Isaidsympathetically.“Whatastiff-neckedtartarthatmanis.Whatdidyoureallywanttoseehimfor?”
“IwantedtoknowwhetherheandJaneWilkinsonarereallygoingtomarry.”
“Shesaidso.”
“Ah!shesaidso.But,yourealize,sheisoneofthosewhosayanythingthatsuitstheirpurpose.Shemighthavedecidedtomarryhimandhe—poorman—mightnotyetbeawareofthefact.”
“Well,hecertainlysentyouawaywithafleaintheear.”
“Hegavemethereplyhewouldgivetoareporter—yes.”Poirotchuckled.“ButIknow!Iknowexactlyhowthecasestands.”
“Howdoyouknow?Byhismanner?”
“Notatall.Yousawhewaswritingaletter?”
“Yes.”
“Ehbien,inmyearlydaysinthepoliceforceinBelgiumIlearnedthatitwasveryusefultoreadhandwritingupsidedown.ShallItellyouwhathewassayinginthatletter?‘MydearestJane,myadored,mybeautifulangel,howcanItellyouwhatyouaretome?Youwhohavesufferedsomuch!Yourbeautifulnature—’”
“Poirot!”Icried,scandalized,stoppinghim.
“Thatwasasfarashehadgot.‘Yourbeautifulnature—onlyIknowit.’”
Ifeltveryupset.Hewassonaivelypleasedwithhisperformance.
“Poirot,”Icried.“Youcan’tdoathinglikethat.Overlookaprivateletter.”
“Yousaytheimbecilities,Hastings.AbsurdtosayI‘cannotdo’athingwhichIhavejustdone!”
“It’snot—notplayingthegame.”
“Idonotplaygames.Youknowthat.Murderisnotagame.Itisserious.Andanyway,Hastings,youshouldnotusethatphrase—playingthegame.Itisnotsaidanymore.Ihavediscoveredthat.Itisdead.Youngpeoplelaughwhentheyhearit.Maisoui,youngbeautifulgirlswilllaughatyouifyousay‘playingthegame’and‘notcricket.’”
Iwassilent.IcouldnotbearthisthingthatPoirothaddonesolightheartedly.
“Itwassounnecessary,”Isaid.“IfyouhadonlytoldhimthatyouhadgonetoLordEdgwareatJaneWilkinson’srequest,thenhewouldhavetreatedyouverydifferently.”
“Ah!butIcouldn’tdothat.JaneWilkinsonwasmyclient.Icannotspeakofmyclient’saffairstoanother.Iundertakeamissioninconfidence.Tospeakofitwouldnotbehonourable.”
“Honourable!”
“Precisely.”
“Butshe’sgoingtomarryhim?”
“Thatdoesnotmeanthatshehasnosecretsfromhim.Yourideasaboutmarriageareveryold-fashioned.No,whatyousuggest,Icouldn’tpossiblyhavedone.Ihavemyhonourasadetectivetothinkof.Thehonour,itisaveryseriousthing.”
“Well,Isupposeittakesallkindsofhonourtomakeaworld.”
Nineteen
AGREATLADY
Thevisitthatwereceivedonthefollowingmorningwastomymindoneofthemostsurprisingthingsaboutthewholeaffair.
IwasinmysittingroomwhenPoirotslippedinwithhiseyesshining.
“Monami,wehaveavisitor.”
“Whoisit?”
“TheDowagerDuchessofMerton.”
“Howextraordinary!Whatdoesshewant?”
“Ifyouaccompanymedownstairs,monami,youwillknow.”
Ihastenedtocomply.Weenteredtheroomtogether.
TheDuchesswasasmallwomanwithahigh-bridgednoseandautocraticeyes.Althoughshewasshortonewouldnothavedaredtocallherdumpy.Dressedthoughshewasinunfashionableblack,shewasyeteveryinchagrandedame.Shealsoimpressedmeashavinganalmostruthlesspersonality.Wherehersonwasnegative,shewaspositive.Herwillpowerwasterrific.Icouldalmostfeelwavesofforceemanatingfromher.Nowonderthiswomanhadalwaysdominatedallthosewithwhomshecameincontact!
Sheputupalorgnetteandstudiedfirstmeandthenmycompanion.Thenshespoketohim.Hervoicewasclearandcompelling,avoiceaccustomedtocommandandtobeobeyed.
“YouareM.HerculePoirot?”
Myfriendbowed.
“Atyourservice,MadamelaDuchesse.”
Shelookedatme.
“Thisismyfriend,CaptainHastings.Heassistsmeinmycases.”
Hereyeslookedmomentarilydoubtful.Thenshebentherheadinacquiescence.
ShetookthechairthatPoirotoffered.
“Ihavecometoconsultyouonaverydelicatematter,M.Poirot,andImustaskthatwhatItellyoushallbeunderstoodtobeentirelyconfidential.”
“Thatgoeswithoutsaying,Madame.”
“ItwasLadyYardlywhotoldmeaboutyou.Fromthewayinwhichshespokeofyouandthegratitudesheexpressed,Ifeltthatyouweretheonlypersonlikelytohelpme.”
“Restassured,Iwilldomybest,Madame.”
Stillshehesitated.Then,atlast,withaneffort,shecametothepoint,cametoitwithasimplicitythatremindedmeinanoddwayofJaneWilkinsononthatmemorablenightattheSavoy.
“M.Poirot,Iwantyoutoensurethatmysondoesnotmarrytheactress,JaneWilkinson.”
IfPoirotfeltastonishment,herefrainedfromshowingit.Heregardedherthoughtfullyandtookhistimeaboutreplying.
“Canyoubealittlemoredefinite,Madame,astowhatyouwantmetodo?”
“Thatisnoteasy.Ifeelthatsuchamarriagewouldbeagreatdisaster.Itwouldruinmyson’slife.”
“Doyouthinkso,Madame?”
“Iamsureofit.Mysonhasveryhighideals.Heknowsreallyverylittleoftheworld.Hehasnevercaredfortheyounggirlsofhisownclass.Theyhavestruckhimasempty-headedandfrivolous.Butasregardsthiswoman—well,sheisverybeautiful,Iadmitthat.Andshehasthepowerofenslavingmen.Shehasbewitchedmyson.Ihavehopedthattheinfatuationwouldrunitscourse.Mercifullyshewasnotfree.Butnowthatherhusbandisdead—”
Shebrokeoff.
“Theyintendtobemarriedinafewmonths’time.Thewholehappinessofmyson’slifeisatstake.”Shespokemoreperemptorily.“Itmustbestopped,M.Poirot.”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Idonotsaythatyouarenotright,Madame.Iagreethatthemarriageisnotasuitableone.Butwhatcanonedo?”
“Itisforyoutodosomething.”
Poirotslowlyshookhishead.
“Yes,yes,youmusthelpme.”
“Idoubtifanythingwouldavail,Madame.Yourson,Ishouldsay,wouldrefusetolistentoanythingagainstthelady!Andalso,Idonotthinkthereisverymuchagainsthertosay!Idoubtifthereareanydiscreditableincidentstoberakedupinherpast.Shehasbeen—shallwesay—careful?”
“Iknow,”saidtheDuchessgrimly.
“Ah!Soyouhavealreadymadetheinquiriesinthatdirection.”
Sheflushedalittleunderhiskeenglance.
“ThereisnothingIwouldnotdo,M.Poirot,tosavemysonfromthismarriage.”Shereiteratedthatwordemphatically,“Nothing!”
Shepaused,thenwenton:
“Moneyisnothinginthismatter.Nameanyfeeyoulike.Butthemarriagemustbestopped.Youarethemantodoit.”
Poirotslowlyshookhishead.
“Itisnotaquestionofmoney.Icandonothing—forareasonwhichIwillexplaintoyoupresently.Butalso,Imaysay,Idonotseethereisanythingtobedone.Icannotgiveyouhelp,MadamelaDuchesse.WillyouthinkmeimpertinentifIgiveyouadvice?”
“Whatadvice?”
“Donotantagonizeyourson!Heisofanagetochooseforhimself.Becausehischoiceisnotyourchoice,donotassumethatyoumustberight.Ifitisamisfortune—thenacceptmisfortune.Beathandtoaidhimwhenheneedsaid.Butdonotturnhimagainstyou.”
“Youhardlyunderstand.”
Sherosetoherfeet.Herlipsweretrembling.
“Butyes,MadamelaDuchesse,Iunderstandverywell.Icomprehendthemother’sheart.NoonecomprehendsitbetterthanI,HerculePoirot.AndIsaytoyouwithauthority—bepatient.Bepatientandcalm,anddisguiseyourfeelings.Thereisyetachancethatthemattermaybreakitself.Oppositionwillmerelyincreaseyourson’sobstinacy.”
“Good-bye,M.Poirot,”shesaidcoldly.“Iamdisappointed.”
“Iregretinfinitely,Madame,thatIcannotbeofservicetoyou.Iaminadifficultposition.LadyEdgware,yousee,hasalreadydonemethehonourtoconsultmeherself.”
“Oh!Isee.”Hervoicecutlikeaknife.“Youareintheoppositecamp.Thatexplains,nodoubt,whyLadyEdgwarehasnotyetbeenarrestedforherhusband’smurder.”
“Comment,MadamelaDuchesse?”
“IthinkyouheardwhatIsaid.Whyisshenotarrested?Shewastherethatevening.Shewasseentoenterthehouse—toenterhisstudy.Nooneelsewentnearhimandhewasfounddead?Andyetsheisnotarrested!Ourpoliceforcemustbecorruptthroughandthrough.”
Withshakinghandsshearrangedthescarfroundherneck,thenwiththeslightestofbows,shesweptoutoftheroom.
“Whew!”Isaid.“Whatatartar!Iadmireher,though,don’tyou?”
“Becauseshewishestoarrangetheuniversetohermannerofthinking?”
“Well,she’sonlygotherson’swelfareatheart.”
Poirotnoddedhishead.
“Thatistrueenough,andyet,Hastings,willitreallybesuchabadthingforM.leDuctomarryJaneWilkinson?”
“Why,youdon’tthinksheisreallyinlovewithhim?”
“Probablynot.Almostcertainlynot.Butsheisverymuchinlovewithhisposition.Shewillplayherpartcarefully.Sheisanextremelybeautifulwomanandveryambitious.Itisnotsuchacatastrophe.TheDukemightveryeasilyhavemarriedayounggirlofhisownclasswhowouldhaveacceptedhimforthesamereasons—butnoonewouldhavemadethesongandthedanceaboutthat.”
“Thatisquitetrue,but—”
“Andsupposehemarriesagirlwholoveshimpassionately,istheresuchagreatadvantageinthat?OftenIhaveobservedthatitisagreatmisfortuneforamantohaveawifewholoveshim.Shecreatesthescenesofjealousy,shemakeshimlookridiculous,sheinsistsonhavingallhistimeandattention.Ah!non,itisnotthebedofroses.”
“Poirot,”Isaid.“You’reanincurableoldcynic.”
“Maisnon,maisnon,Ionlymakethereflections.Seeyou,really,Iamonthesideofthegoodmamma.”
IcouldnotrefrainfromlaughingathearingthehaughtyDuchessdescribedinthisway.
Poirotremainedquiteserious.
“Youshouldnotlaugh.Itisofgreatimportance—allthis.Imustreflect.Imustreflectagreatdeal.”
“Idon’tseewhatyoucandointhematter,”Isaid.
Poirotpaidnoattention.
“Youobserved,Hastings,howwell-informedtheDuchesswas?Andhowvindictive.SheknewalltheevidencetherewasagainstJaneWilkinson.”
“Thecasefortheprosecution,butnotthecaseforthedefence,”Isaid,smiling.
“Howdidshecometoknowofit?”
“JanetoldtheDuke.TheDuketoldher,”Isuggested.
“Yes,thatispossible.YetIhave—”
Thetelephonerangsharply.Iansweredit.
Mypartconsistedofsaying“Yes”atvaryingintervals.FinallyIputdownthereceiverandturnedexcitedlytoPoirot.
“ThatwasJapp.Firstly,you’re‘thegoods’asusual.Secondly,he’shadacablefromAmerica.Thirdly,he’sgotthetaxidriver.Fourthly,wouldyouliketocomeroundandhearwhatthetaxidriversays.Fifthly,you’re‘thegoods’again,andallalonghe’sbeenconvincedthatyou’dhitthenailontheheadwhenyousuggestedthattherewassomemanbehindallthis!Iomittedtotellhimthatwe’djusthadavisitorherewhosaysthepoliceforceiscorrupt.”
“SoJappisconvincedatlast,”murmuredPoirot.“CuriousthattheMan-in-the-BackgroundtheoryshouldbeprovedjustatthemomentwhenIwasincliningtoanotherpossibletheory.”
“Whattheory?”
“ThetheorythatthemotiveforthemurdermighthavenothingtodowithLordEdgwarehimself.ImaginesomeonewhohatedJaneWilkinson,hatedhersomuchthattheywouldhaveevenhadherhangedformurder.C’estuneidée,?a!”
Hesighed—thenrousinghimself:
“Come,Hastings,letushearwhatJapphastosay.”
Twenty
THETAXIDRIVER
WefoundJappinterrogatinganoldmanwitharaggedmoustacheandspectacles.Hehadahoarseself-pityingvoice.
“Ah!thereyouare,”saidJapp.“Well,thingsareallplainsailing,Ithink.Thisman—hisname’sJobson—pickeduptwopeopleinLongAcreonthenightofJune29th.”
“That’sright,”assentedJobsonhoarsely.“Lovelynightitwere.Moonandall.Theyoungladyandgentlemanwerebythetubestationandhailedme.”
“Theywereineveningdress?”
“Yes,gentinwhitewaistcoatandtheyoungladyallinwhitewithbirdsembroideredonit.ComeoutoftheRoyalOpera,Iguess.”
“Whattimewasthis?”
“Sometimeaforeeleven.”
“Well,whatnext?”
“ToldmetogotoRegentGate—they’dtellmewhichhousewhentheygotthere.Andtoldmetobequick,too.Peoplealwayssaysthat.Asthoughyouwantedtoloiter.Sooneryougetthereandgetanotherfarethebetterforyou.Youneverthinkofthat.And,mindyou,ifthere’sanaccidentyou’llgettheblamefordangerousdriving!”
“Cutitout,”saidJappimpatiently.“Therewasn’tanaccidentthistime,wasthere?”
“N-no,”agreedthemanasthoughunwillingtoabandonhisclaimtosuchanoccurrence.“No,asamatteroffactthereweren’t.Well,IgottoRegentGate—notabovesevenminutesitdidn’ttakeme,andtherethegentlemanrappedontheglass,andIstopped.AboutatNo.8thatwere.Well,thegentlemanandladygotout.Thegentlemanstoppedwherehewasandtoldmetodothesame.Theladycrossedtheroad,andbeganwalkingbackalongthehousestheotherside.Thegentlemanstayedbythecab—standingonthesidewalkwithhisbacktome,lookingafterher.Hadhishandsinhispockets.ItwasaboutfiveminuteswhenIheardhimsaysomething—kindofexclamationunderhisbreathandthenoffhegoestoo.IlooksafterhimbecauseIwasn’tgoingtobebilked.It’sbeendoneaforetome,soIkeptmyeyeonhim.Hewentupthestepsofoneofthehousesontheothersideandwentin.”
“Didhepushthedooropen?”
“No,hehadalatchkey.”
“Whatnumberwasthehouse?”
“Itwouldbe17or19,Ifancy.Well,itseemedoddtomemybeingtoldtostaywhereIwas.SoIkeptwatching.Aboutfiveminuteslaterhimandtheyoungladycameouttogether.TheygotbackintothecabandtoldmetodrivebacktoCoventGardenOperaHouse.TheystoppedmejustbeforeIgotthereandpaidme.Paidmehandsome,Iwillsay.ThoughIexpectI’vegotintotroubleoverit—seemsthere’snothingbuttrouble.”
“You’reallright,”saidJapp.“Justrunyoureyeoverthese,willyou,andtellmeiftheyoungladyisamongthem.”
Therewerehalfadozenphotographsallfairlyalikeastotype.Ilookedwithsomeinterestoverhisshoulder.
“Thatwereher,”saidJobson.HepointedadecisivefingeratoneofGeraldineMarshineveningdress.
“Sure?”
“Quitesure.Paleshewasanddark.”
“Nowtheman.”
Anothersheafofphotographswashandedtohim.
Helookedatthemattentivelyandthenshookhishead.
“Well,Icouldn’tsay—notforsure.Eitherofthesetwomightbehim.”
ThephotographsincludedoneofRonaldMarsh,butJobsonhadnotselectedit.InsteadheindicatedtwoothermennotunlikeMarshintype.
JobsonthendepartedandJappflungthephotographsonthetable.
“Goodenough.WishIcouldhavegotacleareridentificationofhislordship.Ofcourseit’sanoldphotograph,takensevenoreightyearsago.TheonlyoneIcouldgetholdof.Yes,I’dlikeacleareridentification,althoughthecaseisclearenough.Banggoacoupleofalibis.Cleverofyoutothinkofit,M.Poirot.”
Poirotlookedmodest.
“WhenIfoundthatsheandhercousinwerebothattheoperaitseemedtomepossiblethattheymighthavebeentogetherduringoneoftheintervals.NaturallythepartiestheywerewithwouldassumethattheyhadnotlefttheOperaHouse.ButahalfhourintervalgivesplentyoftimetogettoRegentGateandback.ThemomentthenewLordEdgwarelaidsuchstressuponhisalibi,Iwassuresomethingwaswrongwithit.”
“You’reanicesuspicioussortoffellow,aren’tyou?”saidJappaffectionately.“Well,you’reaboutright.Can’tbetoosuspiciousinaworldlikethis.Hislordshipisourmanallright.Lookatthis.”
Heproducedapaper.
“CablefromNewYork.TheygotintouchwithMissLucieAdams.Theletterwasinthemaildeliveredtoherthismorning.Shewasnotwillingtogiveuptheoriginalunlessabsolutelynecessary,butshewillinglyallowedtheofficertotakeacopyofitandcableittous.Hereitis,andit’sasdamningasyoucouldhopefor.”
Poirottookthecablewithgreatinterest.Ireaditoverhisshoulder.
FollowingistexttoLucieAdams,datedJune29th,8RosedewMansions,London,S.W.3.Begins,DearestlittleSister,I’msorryIwrotesuchascrappybitlastweekbutthingswereratherbusyandtherewasalottoseeto.Well,darling,it’sbeeneversuchasuccess!Noticessplendid,boxofficegood,andeverybodymostkind.I’vegotsomerealgoodfriendsoverhereandnextyearI’mthinkingoftakingatheatrefortwomonths.TheRussiandancersketchwentverywellandtheAmericanwomaninParistoo,buttheScenesataForeignHotelarestillthefavourites,Ithink.I’msoexcitedthatIhardlyknowwhatI’mwriting,andyou’llseewhyinaminute,butfirstImusttellyouwhatpeoplehavesaid.Mr.Hergsheimerwaseversokindandhe’sgoingtoaskmetolunchtomeetSirMontaguCorner,whomightdogreatthingsforme.TheothernightImetJaneWilkinsonandshewaseversosweetaboutmyshowandmytakeoffofher,whichbringsmeroundtowhatIamgoingtotellyou.Idon’treallylikeherverymuchbecauseI’vebeenhearingalotaboutherlatelyfromsomeoneIknowandshe’sbehavedcruelly,Ithink,andinaveryunderhandway—butIwon’tgointothatnow.YouknowthatshereallyisLadyEdgware?I’veheardalotabouthimtoolately,andhe’snobeauty,Icantellyou.Hetreatedhisnephew,theCaptainMarshIhavementionedtoyou,inthemostshamefulway—literallyturnedhimoutofthehouseanddiscontinuedhisallowance.HetoldmeallaboutitandIfeltawfullysorryforhim.Heenjoyedmyshowverymuch,hesaid.“IbelieveitwouldtakeinLordEdgwarehimself.Lookhere,willyoutakesomethingonforabet?”Ilaughedandsaid,“Howmuch?”Luciedarling,theanswerfairlytookmybreathaway.Tenthousanddollars.Tenthousanddollars,thinkofit—justtohelpsomeonewinasillybet.“Why,”Isaid,“I’dplayajokeontheKinginBuckinghamPalaceandrisklèsemajesté?forthat.”Well,then,welaidourheadstogetherandgotdowntodetails.I’lltellyouallaboutitnextweek—whetherI’mspottedornot.Butanyway,Luciedarling,whetherIsucceedorfail,I’mtohavethetenthousanddollars.Oh!Lucie,littlesister,whatthat’sgoingtomeantous.Notimeformore—justgoingofftodomy“hoax.”Lotsandlotsandlotsoflove,littlesistermine.Yours,Carlotta.
Poirotlaiddowntheletter.Ithadtouchedhim,Icouldsee.
Japp,however,reactedinquiteadifferentway.
“We’vegothim,”saidJappexultantly.
“Yes,”saidPoirot.
Hisvoicesoundedstrangelyflat.
Japplookedathimcuriously.
“Whatisit,M.Poirot?”
“Nothing,”saidPoirot.“Itisnot,somehow,justasIthought.Thatisall.”
Helookedacutelyunhappy.
“Butstillitmustbeso,”hesaidasthoughtohimself.“Yes,itmustbeso.”
“Ofcourseitisso.Why,you’vesaidsoallalong!”
“No,no.Youmisunderstandme.”
“Didn’tyousaytherewassomeonebackofallthiswhogotthegirlintodoingitinnocently?”
“Yes,yes.”
“Well,whatmoredoyouwant?”
Poirotsighedandsaidnothing.
“Youareanoddsortofcove.Nothingeversatisfiesyou.Isay,itwasapieceofluckthegirlwrotethisletter.”
Poirotagreedwithmorevigourthanhehadyetshown.
“Maisoui,thatiswhatthemurdererdidnotexpect.WhenMissAdamsacceptedthattenthousanddollarsshesignedherdeathwarrant.Themurdererthoughthehadtakenallprecautions—andyetinsheerinnocencesheoutwittedhim.Thedeadspeak.Yes,sometimesthedeadspeak.”
“Ineverthoughtshe’ddoneitoffherownbat,”saidJappunblushingly.
“No,no,”saidPoirotabsently.
“Well,Imustgetonwiththings.”
“YouaregoingtoarrestCaptainMarsh—LordEdgware,Imean?”
“Whynot?Thecaseagainsthimseemsproveduptothehilt.”
“True.”
“Youseemverydespondentaboutit,M.Poirot.Thetruthis,youlikethingstobedifficult.Here’syourowntheoryprovedandeventhatdoesnotsatisfyyou.Canyouseeanyflawintheevidencewe’vegot?”
Poirotshookhishead.
“WhetherMissMarshwasaccessoryornot,Idon’tknow,”saidJapp.“Seemsasthoughshemusthaveknownaboutit,goingtherewithhimfromtheopera.Ifshewasn’t,whydidhetakeher?Well,we’llhearwhatthey’vebothgottosay.”
“MayIbepresent?”
Poirotspokealmosthumbly.
“Certainlyyoucan.Iowetheideatoyou!”
Hepickedupthetelegramonthetable.
IdrewPoirotaside.
“Whatisthematter,Poirot?”
“Iamveryunhappy,Hastings.Thisseemstheplainsailingandtheaboveboard.Butthereissomethingwrong.Somewhereorother,Hastings,thereisafactthatescapesus.Itallfitstogether,itisasIimaginedit,andyet,myfriend,thereissomethingwrong.”
Helookedatmepiteously.
Iwasatalosswhattosay.
Twenty-one
RONALD’SSTORY
IfoundithardtounderstandPoirot’sattitude.Surelythiswaswhathehadpredictedallalong?
AllthewaytoRegentGate,hesatperplexedandfrowning,payingnoattentiontoJapp’sself-congratulations.
Hecameoutofhisreverieatlastwithasigh.
“Atallevents,”hemurmured,“wecanseewhathehastosay.”
“Nexttonothingifhe’swise,”saidJapp.“There’sanyamountofmenthathavehangedthemselvesbybeingtooeagertomakeastatement.Well,noonecansayaswedon’twarnthem!It’sallfairandaboveboard.Andthemoreguiltytheyare,themoreanxioustheyaretopipeupandtellyoutheliesthey’vethoughtouttomeetthecase.Theydon’tknowthatyoushouldalwayssubmityourliestoasolicitorfirst.”
Hesighedandsaid:
“Solicitorsandcoronersaretheworstenemiesofthepolice.AgainandagainI’vehadaperfectlyclearcasemessedupbytheCoronerfoolingaboutandlettingtheguiltypartygetawaywithit.Lawyersyoucan’tobjecttosomuch,Isuppose.They’repaidfortheirartfulnessandtwistingthingsthiswayandthat.”
OnarrivalatRegentGatewefoundthatourquarrywasathome.Thefamilywerestillattheluncheontable.JappprofferedarequesttospeaktoLordEdgwareprivately.Wewereshownintothelibrary.
Inaminuteortwotheyoungmancametous.Therewasaneasysmileonhisfacewhichchangedalittleashecastaquickglanceoverus.Hislipstightened.
“Hello,Inspector,”hesaid.“What’sallthisabout?”
Jappsaidhislittlepieceintheclassicfashion.
“Sothat’sit,isit?”saidRonald.
Hedrewachairtowardshimandsatdown.Hepulledoutacigarettecase.
“Ithink,Inspector,I’dliketomakeastatement.”
“That’sasyouplease,mylord.”
“Meaningthatit’sdamnedfoolishonmypart.Allthesame,IthinkIwill.‘Havingnoreasontofearthetruth,’astheheroesinbooksalwayssay.”
Jappsaidnothing.Hisfaceremainedexpressionless.
“There’sanicehandytableandchair,”wentontheyoungman.“Yourminioncansitdownandtakeitalldowninshorthand.”
Idon’tthinkthatJappwasusedtohavinghisarrangementsmadeforhimsothoughtfully.LordEdgware’ssuggestionwasadopted.
“Tobeginwith,”saidtheyoungman.“Havingsomegrainsofintelligence,Istronglysuspectthatmybeautifulalibihasbust.Goneupinsmoke.ExittheusefulDortheimers.Taxidriver,Isuppose?”
“Weknowallaboutyourmovementsonthatnight,”saidJappwoodenly.
“IhavethegreatestadmirationforScotlandYard.Allthesame,youknow,ifIhadreallybeenplanningadeedofviolenceIshouldn’thavehiredataxianddrivenstraighttotheplaceandkeptthefellowwaiting.Haveyouthoughtofthat?Ah!IseeM.Poirothas.”
“Ithadoccurredtome,yes,”saidPoirot.
“Suchisnotthemannerofpremeditatedcrime,”saidRonald.“Putonaredmoustacheandhorn-rimmedglassesanddrivetothenextstreetandpaythemanoff.Takethetube—well—well,Iwon’tgointoitall.MyCounsel,atafeeofseveralthousandguineas,willdoitbetterthanIcan.Ofcourse,Iseetheanswer.Crimewasasuddenimpulse.TherewasI,waitinginthecab,etc.,etc.Itoccurstome,“Now,myboy,upanddoing.”
“Well,I’mgoingtotellyouthetruth.Iwasinaholeformoney.That’sbeenprettyclear,Ithink.Itwasratheradesperatebusiness.Ihadtogetitbythenextdayordropoutofthings.Itriedmyuncle.He’dnoloveforme,butIthoughthemightcareforthehonourofhisname.Middle-agedmensometimesdo.Myuncleprovedtobelamentablymoderninhiscynicalindifference.
“Well—itlookedlikejusthavingtogrinandbearit.IwasgoingtotryandhaveashotatborrowingfromDortheimer,butIknewtherewasn’tahope.AndmarryhisdaughterIcouldn’t.She’smuchtoosensibleagirltotakeme,anyway.Then,bychance,Imetmycousinattheopera.Idon’toftencomeacrossher,butshewasalwaysadecentkidwhenIlivedinthehouse.Ifoundmyselftellingherallaboutit.She’dheardsomethingfromherfatheranyway.Thensheshowedhermettle.ShesuggestedIshouldtakeherpearls.They’dbelongedtohermother.”
Hepaused.Therewassomethinglikerealemotion,Ithink,inhisvoice.OrelsehesuggesteditbetterthanIcouldhavebelievedpossible.
“Well—Iacceptedtheblessedchild’soffer.IcouldraisethemoneyIwantedonthem,andIsworeI’dturntoandredeemthemevenifitmeantworkingtomanageit.ButthepearlswereathomeinRegentGate.Wedecidedthatthebestthingtodowouldbetogoandfetchthematonce.Wejumpedinataxiandoffwewent.
“Wemadethefellowstopontheoppositesideofthestreetincaseanyoneshouldhearthetaxidrawupatthedoor.Geraldinegotoutandwentacrosstheroad.Shehadherlatchkeywithher.Shewouldgoinquietly,getthepearlsandbringthemouttome.Shedidn’texpecttomeetanyoneexcept,possibly,aservant.MissCarroll,myuncle’ssecretary,usuallywenttobedathalfpastnine.He,himself,wouldprobablybeinthelibrary.
“SooffDinawent.Istoodonthepavementsmokingacigarette.EverynowandthenIlookedovertowardsthehousetoseeifshewascoming.AndnowIcometothatpartofthestorythatyoumaybelieveornotasyoulike.Amanpassedmeonthesidewalk.Iturnedtolookafterhim.TomysurprisehewentupthestepsandlethimselfintoNo.17.AtleastIthoughtitwasNo.17,but,ofcourse,Iwassomedistanceaway.Thatsurprisedmeverymuchfortworeasons.Onewasthatthemanhadlethimselfinwithakey,andthesecondwasthatIthoughtIrecognizedinhimacertainwell-knownactor.
“IwassosurprisedthatIdeterminedtolookintomatters.IhappenedtohavemyownkeyofNo.17inmypocket.I’dlostitorthoughtI’dlostitthreeyearsago,hadcomeacrossitunexpectedlyadayortwoagoandhadbeenmeaningtogiveitbacktomyunclethismorning.However,intheheatofourdiscussion,ithadslippedmymemory.IhadtransferreditwiththeothercontentsofmypocketswhenIchanged.
“Tellingthetaximantowait,Istrodehurriedlyalongthepavement,crossedtheroad,wentupthestepsofNo.17,andopenedthedoorwithmykey.Thehallwasempty.Therewasnosignofanyvisitorhavingjustentered.Istoodforaminutelookingaboutme.ThenIwenttowardsthelibrarydoor.Perhapsthemanwasinwithmyuncle.Ifso,Ishouldhearthemurmurofvoices.Istoodoutsidethelibrarydoor,butIheardnothing.
“IsuddenlyfeltIhadmadethemostabjectfoolofmyself.Ofcoursethemanmusthavegoneintosomeotherhouse—thehousebeyond,probably.RegentGateisratherdimlylightedatnight.Ifeltanabsoluteidiot.Whatonearthhadpossessedmetofollowthefellow,Icouldnotthink.Ithadlandedmehere,andaprettyfoolIshouldlookifmyuncleweretocomesuddenlyoutofthelibraryandfindme.IshouldgetGeraldineintotroubleandaltogetherthefatwouldbeinthefire.Allbecausesomethingintheman’smannerhadmademeimaginethathewasdoingsomethingthathedidn’twantknown.Luckilynoonecaughtme.ImustgetoutofitassoonasIcould.
“ItiptoedbacktowardsthefrontdoorandatthesamemomentGeraldinecamedownthestairswiththepearlsinherhand.
“Shewasverystartledatseeingme,ofcourse.Igotheroutofthehouse,andthenexplained.”
Hepaused.
“Wehurriedbacktotheopera.Gottherejustasthecurtainwasgoingup.Noonesuspectedthatwe’dleftit.Itwasahotnightandseveralpeoplewentoutsidetogetabreathofair.”
Hepaused.
“Iknowwhatyou’llsay:Whydidn’tItellyouthisrightaway?AndnowIputittoyou:Wouldyou,withamotiveformurderstickingoutayard,admitlightheartedlythatyou’dactuallybeenattheplacethemurderwascommittedonthenightinquestion?
“Frankly,Ifunkedit!Evenifwewerebelieved,itwasgoingtobealotofworryformeandforGeraldine.We’dnothingtodowiththemurder,we’dseennothing,we’dheardnothing.Obviously,Ithought,AuntJanehaddoneit.Well,whybringmyselfin?ItoldyouaboutthequarrelandmylackofmoneybecauseIknewyou’dferretitout,andifI’dtriedtoconcealallthatyou’dbemuchmoresuspiciousandyou’dprobablyexaminethatalibimuchmoreclosely.Asitwas,IthoughtthatifIbuckedenoughaboutititwouldalmosthypnotizeyouintothinkingitallright.TheDortheimerswere,Iknow,honestlyconvincedthatI’dbeenatCoventGardenallthetime.ThatIspentoneintervalwithmycousinwouldn’tstrikethemassuspicious.Andshecouldalwayssayshe’dbeenwithmethereandthatwehadn’tlefttheplace.”
“MissMarshagreedtothis—concealment?”
“Yes.SoonasIgotthenews,Igotontoherandcautionedherforherlifenottosayanythingaboutherexcursionherelastnight.She’dbeenwithmeandI’dbeenwithherduringthelastintervalatCoventGarden.We’dtalkedinthestreetalittle,thatwasall.Sheunderstoodandshequiteagreed.”
Hepaused.
“Iknowitlooksbad—comingoutwiththisafterwards.Butthestory’strueenough.IcangiveyouthenameandaddressofthemanwholetmehavethecashonGeraldine’spearlsthismorning.Andifyouaskher,she’llconfirmeverywordI’vetoldyou.”
HesatbackinhischairandlookedatJapp.
Jappcontinuedtolookexpressionless.
“YousayyouthoughtJaneWilkinsonhadcommittedthemurder,LordEdgware?”hesaid.
“Well,wouldn’tyouhavethoughtso?Afterthebutler’sstory?”
“WhataboutyourwagerwithMissAdams?”
“WagerwithMissAdams?WithCarlottaAdams,doyoumean?Whathasshegottodowithit?”
“DoyoudenythatyouofferedherthesumoftenthousanddollarstoimpersonateMissJaneWilkinsonatthehousethatnight?”
Ronaldstared.
“Offeredhertenthousanddollars?Nonsense.Someone’sbeenpullingyourleg.Ihaven’tgottenthousanddollarstooffer.You’vegotholdofamare’snest.Doesshesayso?Oh!Dashitall—Iforgot,she’sdead,isn’tshe?”
“Yes,”saidPoirotquietly.“Sheisdead.”
Ronaldturnedhiseyesfromonetotheotherofus.Hehadbeendebonairbefore.Nowhisfacehadwhitened.Hiseyeslookedfrightened.
“Idon’tunderstandallthis,”hesaid.“It’struewhatItoldyou.Isupposeyoudon’tbelieveme—anyofyou.”
Andthen,tomyamazement,Poirotsteppedforward.
“Yes,”hesaid.“Ibelieveyou.”
Twenty-two
STRANGEBEHAVIOUROFHERCULEPOIROT
Wewereinourrooms.
“Whatonearth—”Ibegan.
PoirotstoppedmewithagesturemoreextravagantthananygestureIhadeverseenhimmake.Botharmswhirledintheair.
“Iimploreyou,Hastings!Notnow.Notnow.”
Anduponthatheseizedhishat,clappeditonhisheadasthoughhehadneverheardoforderandmethod,andrushedheadlongfromtheroom.Hehadnotreturnedwhen,aboutanhourlater,Jappappeared.
“Littlemangoneout?”heinquired.
Inodded.
Jappsankintoaseat.Hedabbedhisforeheadwithahandkerchief.Thedaywaswarm.
“Whatthedeviltookhim?”heinquired.“Icantellyou,CaptainHastings,youcouldhaveknockedmedownwithafeatherwhenhesteppeduptothemanandsaid:‘Ibelieveyou.’Foralltheworldasthoughhewereactinginaromanticmelodrama.Itbeatsme.”
Itbeatmealso,andIsaidso.
“Andthenhemarchesoutofthehouse,”saidJapp.
“Whatdidhesayaboutittoyou?”
“Nothing,”Ireplied.
“Nothingatall?”
“Absolutelynothing.WhenIwasgoingtospeaktohimhewavedmeaside.Ithoughtitbesttoleavehimalone.WhenwegotbackhereIstartedtoquestionhim.Hewavedhisarms,seizedhishatandrushedoutagain.”
Welookedateachother.Japptappedhisforeheadsignificantly.
“Mustbe,”hesaid.
ForonceIwasdisposedtoagree.JapphadoftensuggestedbeforethatPoirotwaswhathecalled“touched.”InthosecaseshehadsimplynotunderstoodwhatPoirotwasdrivingat.Here,Iwasforcedtoconfess,IcouldnotunderstandPoirot’sattitude.Ifnottouched,hewas,atanyrate,suspiciouslychangeable.Herewashisownprivatetheorytriumphantlyconfirmedandstraightawayhewentbackonit.
Itwasenoughtodismayanddistresshiswarmestsupporters.Ishookmyheadinadiscouragedfashion.
“He’salwaysbeenwhatIcallpeculiar,”saidJapp.“Gothisownparticularangleoflookingatthings—andaveryqueeroneitis.He’sakindofgenius,Iadmitthat.Buttheyalwayssaythatgeniusesareveryneartheborderlineandliabletoslipoveranyminute.He’salwaysbeenfondofhavingthingsdifficult.Astraightforwardcaseisnevergoodenoughforhim.No,it’sgottobetortuous.He’sgotawayfromreallife.Heplaysagameofhisown.It’slikeanoldladyplayingatpatience.Ifitdoesn’tcomeout,shecheats.Well,it’stheotherwayroundwithhim.Ifit’scomingouttooeasily,hecheatstomakeitmoredifficult!That’sthewayIlookatit.”
Ifounditdifficulttoanswerhim.I,also,foundPoirot’sbehaviourunaccountable.AndsinceIwasveryattachedtomystrangelittlefriend,itworriedmemorethanIcaredtoexpress.
Inthemiddleofagloomysilence,Poirotwalkedintotheroom.
Hewas,Iwasthankfultosee,quitecalmnow.
Verycarefullyheremovedhishat,placeditwithhisstickonthetable,andsatdowninhisaccustomedchair.
“Soyouarehere,mygoodJapp.Iamglad.ItwasonmymindthatImustseeyouassoonaspossible.”
Japplookedathimwithoutreplying.Hesawthatthiswasonlythebeginning.HewaitedforPoirottoexplainhimself
Thismyfrienddid,speakingslowlyandcarefully.
“Ecoutez,Japp.Wearewrong.Weareallwrong.Itisgrievoustoadmitit,butwehavemadeamistake.”
“That’sallright,”saidJappconfidently.
“Butitisnotallright.Itisdeplorable.Itgrievesmetotheheart.”
“Youneedn’tbegrievedaboutthatyoungman.Herichlydeservesallhegets.”
“ItisnotheIamgrievingabout—itisyou.”
“Me?Youneedn’tworryaboutme.”
“ButIdo.Seeyou,whowasitsetyouonthiscourse?ItwasHerculePoirot.Maisoui,Isetyouonthetrail.IdirectyourattentiontoCarlottaAdams,ImentiontoyouthematterofthelettertoAmerica.EverystepofthewayitisIwhopointit!”
“Iwasboundtogetthereanyway,”saidJappcoldly.“Yougotabitaheadofme,that’sall.”
“Celacepeut.Butitdoesnotconsoleme.Ifharm—iflossofprestigecomestoyouthroughlisteningtomylittleideas—Ishallblamemyselfbitterly.”
Jappmerelylookedamused.IthinkhecreditedPoirotwithmotivesthatwerenonetoopure.HefanciedthatPoirotgrudgedhimthecreditresultingfromthesuccessfulelucidationoftheaffair.
“That’sallright,”hesaid.“Ishan’tforgettoletitbeknownthatIowesomethingtoyouoverthisbusiness.”
Hewinkedatme.
“Oh!itisnotthatatall.”Poirotclickedhistonguewithimpatience.“Iwantnocredit.Andwhatismore,Itellyoutherewillbenocredit.Itisafiascothatyouprepareforyourself,andI,HerculePoirot,amthecause.”
Suddenly,atPoirot’sexpressionofextrememelancholy,Jappshoutedwithlaughter.Poirotlookedaffronted.
“Sorry,M.Poirot.”Hewipedhiseyes.“Butyoudidlookforalltheworldlikeadyingduckinathunderstorm.Nowlookhere,let’sforgetallthis.I’mwillingtoshoulderthecreditortheblameofthisaffair.Itwillmakeabignoise—you’rerightthere.Well,I’mgoingallouttogetaconviction.ItmaybethatacleverCounselwillgethislordshipoff—youneverknowwithajury.Butevenso,itwon’tdomeanyharm.Itwillbeknownthatwecaughttherightmanevenifwecouldn’tgetaconviction.Andif,byanychance,thethirdhousemaidhashystericsandownsupshedidit—well,I’lltakemymedicineandIwon’tcomplainyouledmeupthegarden.That’sfairenough.”
Poirotgazedathimmildlyandsadly.
“Youhavetheconfidence—alwaystheconfidence!Youneverstopandsaytoyourself—canitbeso?Youneverdoubt—orwonder.Youneverthink:Thisistooeasy!”
“YoubetyourlifeIdon’t.Andthat’sjustwhere,ifyou’llexcusemesayingso,yougoofftherailseverytime.Whyshouldn’tathingbeeasy?What’stheharminathingbeingeasy?”
Poirotlookedathim,sighed,halfthrewuphisarms,thenshookhishead.
“C’estfini!Iwillsaynomore.”
“Splendid,”saidJappheartily.“Nowlet’sgetdowntobrasstacks.You’dliketohearwhatI’vebeendoing?”
“Assuredly.”
“Well,IsawtheHonourableGeraldine,andherstorytalliedexactlywithhislordship’s.Theymaybothbeinittogether,butIthinknot.It’smyopinionhebluffedher—she’sthreepartssweetonhimanyway.Tookonterriblywhenshefoundhewasarrested.”
“Didshenow?Andthesecretary—MissCarroll?”
“Wasn’ttoosurprised,Ifancy.However,that’sonlymyidea.”
“Whataboutthepearls?”Iasked.“Wasthatpartofthestorytrue?”
“Absolutely.Heraisedthemoneyonthemearlythefollowingmorning.ButIdon’tthinkthattouchesthemainargument.AsIseeit,theplancameintohisheadwhenhecameacrosshiscousinattheopera.Itcametohiminaflash.Hewasdesperate—herewasawayout.Ifancyhe’dbeenmeditatingsomethingofthekind—that’swhyhehadthekeywithhim.Idon’tbelievethatstoryofsuddenlycomingacrossit.Well,ashetalkstohiscousin,heseesthatbyinvolvingherhegainsadditionalsecurityforhimself.Heplaysonherfeelings,hintsatthepearls,sheplaysup,andofftheygo.Assoonasshe’sinthehousehefollowsherinandgoesalongtothelibrary.Maybehislordshiphasdozedoffinhischair.Anyway,intwosecondshe’sdonethetrickandhe’soutagain.Idon’tfancyhemeantthegirltocatchhiminthehouse.Hecountedonbeingfoundpacingupanddownnearthetaxi.AndIdon’tthinkthetaximanwasmeanttoseehimgoin.Theimpressionwastobethathewaswalkingupanddownsmokingwhilsthewaitedforthegirl.Thetaxiwasfacingtheoppositedirection,remember.
“Ofcourse,thenextmorning,hehastopledgethepearls.Hemuststillseemtobeinneedofthemoney.Then,whenhehearsofthecrime,hefrightensthegirlintoconcealingtheirvisittothehouse.TheywillsaythattheyspentthatintervaltogetherattheOperaHouse.”
“Thenwhydidtheynotdoso?”askedPoirotsharply.
Jappshruggedhisshoulders.
“Changedhismind.Orjudgedthatshewouldn’tbeabletogothroughwithit.She’sanervoustype.”
“Yes,”saidPoirotmeditatively.“Sheisanervoustype.”
Afteraminuteortwo,hesaid:
“ItdoesnotstrikeyouthatitwouldhavebeeneasierandsimplerforCaptainMarshtohavelefttheoperaduringtheintervalbyhimself.Tohavegoneinquietlywithhiskey,killedhisuncle,andreturnedtotheopera—insteadofhavingataxioutsideandanervousgirlcomingdownthestairsanyminutewhomightloseherheadandgivehimaway
Jappgrinned.
“That’swhatyouandIwouldhavedone.Butthenwe’reashadebrighterthanCaptainRonaldMarsh.”
“Iamnotsosure.Hestrikesmeasintelligent.”
“ButnotsointelligentasM.HerculePoirot!Comenow,I’msureofthat!”Japplaughed.
Poirotlookedathimcoldly.
“Ifheisn’tguiltywhydidhepersuadetheAdamsgirltotakeonthatstunt?”wentonJapp.“Therecanbeonlyonereasonforthatstunt—toprotecttherealcriminal.”
“ThereIamofaccordwithyouabsolutely.”
“Well,I’mgladweagreeaboutsomething.”
“ItmightbehewhoactuallyspoketoMissAdams,”musedPoirot.“Whilstreally—no,thatisanimbecility.”
Then,lookingsuddenlyatJapp,herappedoutaquickquestion.
“Whatisyourtheoryastoherdeath?”
Jappclearedhisthroat.
“I’minclinedtobelieve—accident.Aconvenientaccident,Iadmit.Ican’tseethathecouldhavehadanythingtodowithit.Hisalibiisstraightenoughaftertheopera.HewasatSobraniswiththeDortheimerstillafteroneo’clock.Longbeforethatshewasinbedandasleep.No,Ithinkthatwasaninstanceoftheinfernalluckcriminalssometimeshave.Otherwise,ifthataccidenthadn’thappened,Ithinkhehadhisplansfordealingwithher.First,he’dputthefearoftheLordintoher—tellhershe’dbearrestedformurderifsheconfessedthetruth.Andthenhe’dsquareherwithafreshlotofmoney.”
“Doesitstrikeyou—”Poirotstaredstraightinfrontofhim.“DoesitstrikeyouthatMissAdamswouldletanotherwomanbehangedwhensheherselfheldevidencethatwouldacquither?”
“JaneWilkinsonwouldn’thavebeenhanged.TheMontaguCornerpartyevidencewastoostrongforthat.”
“Butthemurdererdidnotknowthat.HewouldhavehadtocountonJaneWilkinsonbeinghangedandCarlottaAdamskeepingsilence.”
“Youlovetalking,don’tyou,M.Poirot?Andyou’repositivelyconvincednowthatRonaldMarshisawhite-headedboywhocandonowrong.Doyoubelievethatstoryofhisaboutseeingamansneaksurreptitiouslyintothehouse?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Doyouknowwhohesayshethoughtitwas?”
“Icouldguess,perhaps.”
“Hesayshethoughtitwasthefilmstar,BryanMartin.Whatdoyouthinkofthat?Amanwho’dneverevenmetLordEdgware.”
“Thenitwouldcertainlybecuriousifonesawsuchamanenteringthathousewithakey.”
“Chah!”saidJapp.Arichnoiseexpressiveofcontempt.“AndnowIsupposeitwillsurpriseyoutohearthatMr.BryanMartinwasn’tinLondonthatnight.HetookayoungladytodinedownatMolesey.Theydidn’tgetbacktoLondontillmidnight.”
“Ah!”saidPoirotmildly.“No,Iamnotsurprised.Wastheyoungladyalsoamemberoftheprofession?”
“No.Girlwhokeepsahatshop.Asamatteroffact,itwasMissAdams’friend,MissDriver.Ithinkyou’llagreehertestimonyispastsuspicion.”
“Iamnotdisputingit,myfriend.”
“Infact,you’redonedownandyouknowit,oldboy,”saidJapp,laughing.“Cockandbullstorytrumpeduponthemoment,that’swhatitwas.NobodyenteredNo.17…andnobodyenteredeitherofthehouseseitherside—sowhatdoesthatshow?Thathislordship’saliar.”
Poirotshookhisheadsadly.
Japprosetohisfeet—hisspiritsrestored.
“Come,now,we’reright,youknow.”
“WhowasD.Paris,November?”
Jappshruggedhisshoulders.
“Ancienthistory,Iimagine.Can’tagirlhaveasouvenirsixmonthsagowithoutitshavingsomethingtodowiththiscrime?Wemusthaveasenseofproportion.”
“Sixmonthsago,”murmuredPoirot,asuddenlightinhiseyes.“Dieu,quejesuisbête!”
“What’shesaying?”inquiredJappofme.
“Listen.”PoirotroseandtappedJapponthechest.
“WhydoesMissAdams’maidnotrecognizethatbox?WhydoesMissDrivernotrecognizeit?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Becausetheboxwasnew!Ithadonlyjustbeengiventoher.Paris,November—thatisallverywell—doubtlessthatisthedateofwhichtheboxistobeasouvenir.Butitwasgiventohernow,notthen.Ithasjustbeenbought!Onlyjustbeenbought!Investigatethat,Iimploreyou,mygoodJapp.Itisachance,decidedlyachance.Itwasboughtnothere,butabroad.ProbablyParis.Ifithadbeenboughthere,somejewellerwouldhavecomeforward.Ithasbeenphotographedanddescribedinthepapers.Yes,yes,Paris.Possiblysomeotherforeigntown,butIthinkParis.Findout,Iimploreyou.Maketheinquiries.Iwant—Isobadlywant—toknowwhoisthismysteriousD.”
“Itwilldonoharm,”saidJappgood-naturedly.“Can’tsayI’mveryexcitedaboutitmyself.ButI’lldowhatIcan.Themoreweknowthebetter.”
Noddingcheerfullytoushedeparted.
Twenty-three
THELETTER
“Andnow,”saidPoirot,“wewillgoouttolunch.”
Heputhishandthroughmyarm.Hewassmilingatme.
“Ihavehope,”heexplained.
Iwasgladtoseehimrestoredtohisoldself,thoughIwasnonethelessconvincedmyselfofyoungRonald’sguilt.IfanciedthatPoirothimselfhadperhapscomeroundtothisview,convincedbyJapp’sarguments.Thesearchforthepurchaseroftheboxwas,perhaps,alastsallytosavehisface.
Wewentamicablytolunchtogether.
Somewhattomyamusementatatabletheothersideoftheroom,IsawBryanMartinandJennyDriverlunchingtogether.RememberingwhatJapphadsaid,Isuspectedapossibleromance.
TheysawusandJennywavedahand.
Whenweweresippingcoffee,Jennyleftherescortandcameovertoourtable.Shelookedasvividanddynamicasever.
“MayIsitandtalktoyouaminute,M.Poirot?”
“Assuredly,Mademoiselle.Iamcharmedtoseeyou.WillnotM.Martinjoinusalso?”
“Itoldhimnotto.Yousee,IwantedtotalktoyouaboutCarlotta.”
“Yes,Mademoiselle?”
“Youwantedtogetalineontosomemanfriendofhers.Isn’tthatso?”
“Yes,yes.”
“Well,I’vebeenthinkingandthinking.Sometimesyoucan’tgetatthingsstraightaway.Togetthemclearyou’vegottothinkback—rememberalotoflittlewordsandphrasesthatperhapsyoudidn’tpayattentiontoatthetime.Well,that’swhatI’vebeendoing.Thinkingandthinking—andrememberingjustwhatshesaid.AndI’vecometoacertainconclusion.”
“Yes,Mademoiselle?”
“Ithinkthemanthatshecaredabout—orwasbeginningtocareabout—wasRonaldMarsh—youknow,theonewhohasjustsucceededtothetitle.”
“Whatmakesyouthinkitwashe,Mademoiselle?”
“Well,foronething,Carlottawasspeakinginageneralsortofwayoneday.Aboutamanhavinghardluck,andhowitmightaffectcharacter.Thatamanmightbeadecentsortreallyandyetgodownthehill.Moresinnedagainstthensinning—youknowtheidea.Thefirstthingawomankidsherselfwithwhenshe’sgettingsoftaboutaman.I’veheardtheoldwheezesooften!Carlottahadplentyofsense,yethereshewascomingoutwiththisstuffjustlikeacompleteasswhoknewnothingoflife.‘Hello,’Isaidtomyself.‘Something’sup.’Shedidn’tmentionaname—itwasallgeneral.ButalmostimmediatelyafterthatshebegantospeakofRonaldMarshandthatshethoughthe’dbeenbadlytreated.Shewasveryimpersonalandoffhandaboutit.Ididn’tconnectthetwothingsatthetime.Butnow—Iwonder.ItseemstomethatitwasRonaldshemeant.Whatdoyouthink,M.Poirot?”
Herfacelookedearnestlyupintohis.
“Ithink,Mademoiselle,thatyouhaveperhapsgivenmesomeveryvaluableinformation.”
“Good.”Jennyclappedherhands.
Poirotlookedkindlyather.
“Perhapsyouhavenotheard—thegentlemanofwhomyouspeak,RonaldMarsh—LordEdgware—hasjustbeenarrested.”
“Oh!”Hermouthflewopeninsurprise.“Thenmybitofthinkingcomesratherlateintheday.”
“Itisnevertoolate,”saidPoirot.“Notwithme,youunderstand.Thankyou,Mademoiselle.”
SheleftustoreturntoBryanMartin.
“There,Poirot,”Isaid.“Surelythatshakesyourbelief.”
“No,Hastings.Onthecontrary—itstrengthensit.”
DespitethatvaliantassertionIbelievedmyselfthatsecretlyhehadweakened
DuringthedaysthatfollowedheneveroncementionedtheEdgwarecase.IfIspokeofit,heansweredmonosyllabicallyandwithoutinterest.Inotherwords,hehadwashedhishandsofit.Whateverhehadhadlingeringinhisfantasticbrain,hehadnowbeenforcedtoadmitthatithadnotmaterialized—thathisfirstconceptionofthecasehadbeenthetrueoneandthatRonaldMarshwasonlytootrulyaccusedofthecrime.Only,beingPoirot,hecouldnotadmitopenlythatsuchwasthecase!Thereforehepretendedtohavelostinterest.
Such,asIsay,wasmyinterpretationofhisattitude.Itseemedborneoutbythefacts.Hetooknofaintestinterestinthepolicecourtproceedings,whichinanycasewerepurelyformal.Hebusiedhimselfwithothercasesand,asIsay,hedisplayednointerestwhenthesubjectwasmentioned.
ItwasnearlyafortnightlaterthantheeventsmentionedinmylastchapterwhenIcametorealizethatmyinterpretationofhisattitudewasentirelywrong.
Itwasbreakfasttime.TheusualheavypileofletterslaybyPoirot’splate.Hesortedthroughthemwithnimblefingers.ThenheutteredaquickexclamationofpleasureandpickedupaletterwithanAmericanstamponit.
Heopeneditwithhislittleletteropener.Ilookedonwithinterestsinceheseemedsomovedtopleasureaboutit.Therewasaletterandafairlythickenclosure.
Poirotreadtheformerthroughtwice,thenhelookedup.
“Wouldyouliketoseethis,Hastings?”
Itookitfromhim.Itranasfollows:
DearM.Poirot,—Iwasmuchtouchedbyyourkind—yourverykindletter.Ihavebeenfeelingsobewilderedbyeverything.Apartfrommyterriblegrief,IhavebeensoaffrontedbythethingsthatseemtohavebeenhintedaboutCarlotta—thedearest,sweetestsisterthatagirleverhad.No,M.Poirot,shedidnottakedrugs.I’msureofit.Shehadahorrorofthatkindofthing.I’veoftenheardhersayso.Ifsheplayedapartinthatpoorman’sdeath,itwasanentirelyinnocentone—butofcourseherlettertomeprovesthat.Iamsendingyoutheactualletteritselfsinceyouaskmetodoso.Ihatepartingwiththelastlettersheeverwrote,butIknowyouwilltakecareofitandletmehaveitback,andifithelpsyoutoclearupsomeofthemysteryaboutherdeath,asyousayitmaydo—why,then,ofcourseitmustgotoyou.YouaskwhetherCarlottamentionedanyfriendspeciallyinherletters.Shementionedagreatmanypeople,ofcourse,butnobodyinaveryoutstandingway.BryanMartinwhomweusedtoknowyearsago,agirlcalledJennyDriver,andaCaptainRonaldMarshwere,Ithink,theonesshesawmostof.IwishIcouldthinkofsomethingtohelpyou.Youwritesokindlyandwithsuchunderstanding,andyouseemtorealizewhatCarlottaandIweretoeachother.Gratefullyyours,LucieAdamsP.S.Anofficerhasjustbeenherefortheletter.ItoldhimthatIhadalreadymailedittoyou.This,ofcourse,wasnottrue,butIfeltsomehoworotherthatitwasimportantyoushouldseeitfirst.ItseemsScotlandYardneeditasevidence,againstthemurderer.Youwilltakeittothem.But,oh!pleasebesuretheyletyouhaveitbackagainsomeday.Yousee,itisCarlotta’slastwordstome.
“Soyouwroteyourselftoher,”IremarkedasIlaidtheletterdown.“Whydidyoudothat,Poirot?AndwhydidyouaskfortheoriginalofCarlottaAdams’letter?”
HewasbendingovertheenclosedsheetsoftheletterImentioned.
“InverityIcouldnotsay,Hastings—unlessitisthatIhopedagainsthopethattheoriginallettermightinsomewayexplaintheinexplicable.”
“Idon’tseehowyoucangetawayfromthetextofthatletter.CarlottaAdamsgaveitherselftothemaidtopost.Therewasnohocuspocusaboutit.Andcertainlyitreadsasaperfectlygenuineordinaryepistle.”
Poirotsighed.
“Iknow.Iknow.Andthatiswhatmakesitsodifficult.Because,Hastings,asitstands,thatletterisimpossible.”
“Nonsense.”
“Si,si,itisso.Seeyou,asIhavereasoneditout,certainthingsmustbe—theyfolloweachotherwithmethodandorderinanunderstandablefashion.Butthencomesthisletter.Itdoesnotaccord.Who,then,iswrong?HerculePoirotortheletter?”
“Youdon’tthinkitpossiblethatitcouldbeHerculePoirot?”IsuggestedasdelicatelyasIwasable.
Poirotthrewmeaglanceofreproof.
“TherearetimeswhenIhavebeeninerror—butthisisnotoneofthem.Clearlythen,sincetheletterseemsimpossible,itisimpossible.Thereissomefactabouttheletterwhichescapesus.Iseektodiscoverwhatthatfactis.”
Andthereuponheresumedhisstudyoftheletterinquestion,usingasmallpocketmicroscope.
Ashefinishedperusingeachpage,hepasseditacrosstome.I,certainly,couldfindnothingamiss.Itwaswritteninafirmfairlylegiblehandwritinganditwaswordforwordasithadbeentelegraphedacross.
Poirotsigheddeeply.
“Thereisnoforgeryofanykindhere—no,itisallwritteninthesamehand.Andyet,since,asIsay,itisimpossible—”
Hebrokeoff.Withanimpatientgesturehedemandedthesheetsfromme.Ipassedthemover,andonceagainhewentslowlythroughthem.
Suddenlyheutteredacry.
Ihadleftthebreakfasttableandwasstandinglookingoutofthewindow.Atthissound,Iturnedsharply.
Poirotwasliterallyquiveringwithexcitement.Hiseyesweregreenlikeacat’s.Hispointingfingertrembled.
“Seeyou,Hastings?Lookhere—quickly—comeandlook.”
Irantohisside.Spreadoutbeforehimwasoneofthemiddlesheetsoftheletter.Icouldseenothingunusualaboutit.
“Seeyounot?Alltheseothersheetstheyhavethecleanedge—theyaresinglesheets.Butthisone—see—onesideofitisragged—ithasbeentorn.NowdoyouseewhatImean?Thisletterwasadoublesheet,andso,youcomprehend,onepageoftheletterismissing.”
Istaredstupidly,nodoubt.
“Buthowcanitbe.Itmakessense.”
“Yes,yes,itmakessense.Thatiswheretheclevernessoftheideacomesin.Read—andyouwillsee.”
IthinkIcannotdobetterthantoapprehendafacsimileofthepageinquestion.
“Youseeitnow?”saidPoirot.“TheletterbreaksoffwheresheistalkingofCaptainMarsh.Sheissorryforhim,andthenshesays:‘Heenjoyedmyshowverymuch.’Thenonthenewsheetshegoeson:‘hesaid…’But,monami,apageismissing.The‘he’ofthenewpagemaynotbethe‘He’oftheoldpage.Infactitisnotthe‘He’oftheoldpage.Itisanothermanaltogetherwhoproposedthathoax.Observe,nowhereafterthatisthenamementioned.Ah!C’estépatant!Somehoworotherourmurderergetsholdofthisletter.Itgiveshimaway.Nodoubthethinkstosuppressitaltogether,andthen—readingitover—heseesanotherwayofdealingwithit.Removeonepage,andtheletteriscapableofbeingtwistedintoadamningaccusationofanotherman—amantoowhohasamotiveforLordEdgware’sdeath.Ah!itwasagift!Themoneyfortheconfitureasyousay!Hetearsthesheetoffandreplacestheletter.”
IlookedatPoirotinsomeadmiration.Iwasnotperfectlyconvincedofthetruthofhistheory.ItseemedtobehighlypossiblethatCarlottahadusedanoddhalfsheetthatwasalreadytorn.ButPoirotwassotransfiguredwithjoythatIsimplyhadnotthehearttosuggestthisprosaicpossibility.Afterall,hemightberight.
Idid,however,venturetopointoutoneortwodifficultiesinthewayofhistheory.
“Buthowdidtheman,whoeverhewas,getholdoftheletter?MissAdamstookitstraightfromherhandbagandgaveitherselftothemaidtopost.Themaidtoldusso.”
“Thereforewemustassumeoneoftwothings.Eitherthemaidwaslying,orelse,duringthatevening,CarlottaAdamsmetthemurderer.”
Inodded.
“Itseemstomethatthatlastpossibilityisthemostlikelyone.WestilldonotknowwhereCarlottaAdamswasbetweenthetimeshelefttheflatandnineo’clockwhenshelefthersuitcaseatEustonstation.Duringthattime,Ibelievemyselfthatshemetthemurdererinsomeappointedspot—theyprobablyhadsomefoodtogether.Hegavehersomelastinstructions.Whathappenedexactlyinregardtotheletterwedonotknow.Onecanmakeaguess.Shemayhavebeencarryingitinherhandmeaningtopostit.Shemayhavelaiditdownonthetableintherestaurant.Heseestheaddressandscentsapossibledanger.Hemayhavepickeditupadroitly,madeanexcuseforleavingthetable,openedit,readit,tornoutthesheet,andtheneitherreplaceditonthetable,orperhapsgivenittoherassheleft,tellingherthatshehaddroppeditwithoutnoticing.Theexactwayofitwasnotimportant—buttwothingsdoseemclear.ThatCarlottaAdamsmetthemurdererthateveningeitherbeforethemurderofLordEdgware,orafterwards(therewastimeaftershelefttheCornerHouseforabriefinterview).Ihaveafancy,thoughthereIamperhapswrong,thatitwasthemurdererwhogaveherthegoldbox—itwaspossiblyasentimentalmementooftheirfirstmeeting.Ifso,themurdererisD.”
“Idon’tseethepointofthegoldbox.”
“Listen,Hastings,CarlottaAdamswasnotaddictedtoveronal.LucieAdamssaysso,andI,too,believeittobetrue.Shewasaclear-eyedhealthygirlwithnopredilectionforsuchthings.Noneofherfriendsnorhermaidrecognizedthebox.Why,then,wasitfoundinherpossessionaftershedied?Tocreatetheimpressionthatshedidtakeveronalandthatshehadtakenitforaconsiderabletime—thatistosayatleastsixmonths.Letussaythatshemetthemurdererafterthemurderifonlyforafewminutes.Theyhadadrinktogether,Hastings,tocelebratethesuccessoftheirplan.Andinthegirl’sdrinkheputsufficientveronaltoensurethatthereshouldbenowakingforheronthefollowingmorning.”
“Horrible,”Isaidwithashudder.
“Yes,itwasnotpretty,”saidPoirotdryly.
“AreyougoingtotellJappallthis?”Iaskedafteraminuteortwo.
“Notatthemoment.WhathaveIgottotell?Hewouldsay,theexcellentJapp,‘anothernestofthemare!Thegirlwroteonanoddsheetofpaper!’C’esttout.”
Ilookedguiltilyattheground.
“WhatcanIsaytothat?Nothing.Itisathingthatmighthavehappened.Ionlyknowitdidnothappenbecauseitisnecessarythatitshouldnothavehappened.”
Hepaused.Adreamyexpressionstoleacrosshisface.
“Figuretoyourself,Hastings,ifonlythatmanhadhadtheorderandthemethod,hewouldhavecutthatsheetnottornit.Andweshouldhavenoticednothing.Butnothing!”
“Sowededucethatheisamanofcarelesshabits,”Isaid,smiling.
“No,no.Hemighthavebeeninahurry.Youobserveitisverycarelesslytorn.Oh!assuredlyhewaspressedfortime.”
Hepausedandthensaid:
“Onethingyoudoremark,Ihope.Thisman—thisD—hemusthavehadaverygoodalibiforthatevening.”
“Ican’tseehowhecouldhavehadanyalibiatallifhespenthistimefirstatRegentGatedoingamurderandthenwithCarlottaAdams.”
“Precisely,”saidPoirot.“ThatiswhatImean.Heisbadlyinneedofanalibi,sonodoubthepreparedone.Anotherpoint:DoeshisnamereallybeginwithD?OrdoesDstandforsomenicknamebywhichhewasknowntoher?”
Hepausedandthensaidsoftly:
“AmanwhoseinitialorwhosenicknameisD.Wehavegottofindhim,Hastings.Yes,wehavegottofindhim.”
Twenty-four
NEWSFROMPARIS
Onthefollowingdaywehadanunexpectedvisit.
GeraldineMarshwasannounced.
IfeltsorryforherasPoirotgreetedherandsetachairforher.Herlargedarkeyesseemedwideranddarkerthanever.Therewereblackcirclesroundthemasthoughshehadnotslept.Herfacelookedextraordinarilyhaggardandwearyforonesoyoung—littlemore,really,thanachild.
“Ihavecometoseeyou,M.Poirot,becauseIdon’tknowhowtogoonanylonger.Iamsoterriblyworriedandupset.”
“Yes,Mademoiselle?”
Hismannerwasgravelysympathetic.
“Ronaldtoldmewhatyousaidtohimthatday.Imeanthatdreadfuldaywhenhewasarrested.”Sheshivered.“Hetoldmethatyoucameuptohimsuddenly,justwhenhehadsaidthathesupposednoonewouldbelievehim,andthatyousaidtohim:‘Ibelieveyou.’Isthattrue,M.Poirot?”
“Itistrue,Mademoiselle,thatiswhatIsaid.”
“Iknow,butImeantnotwasittrueyousaidit,butwerethewordsreallytrue.Imean,didyoubelievehisstory?”
Terriblyanxiousshelooked,leaningforwardthere,herhandsclaspedtogether
“Thewordsweretrue,Mademoiselle,”saidPoirotquietly.“IdonotbelieveyourcousinkilledLordEdgware.”
“Oh!”Thecolourcameintoherface,hereyesopenedbigandwide.“Thenyoumustthink—thatsomeoneelsedidit!”
“Evidemment,Mademoiselle.”Hesmiled.
“I’mstupid.Isaythingsbadly.WhatImeanis—youthinkyouknowwhothatsomebodyis?”
Sheleanedforwardeagerly.
“Ihavemylittleideas,naturally—mysuspicions,shallwesay?”
“Won’tyoutellme?Please—please.”
Poirotshookhishead.
“Itwouldbe—perhaps—unfair.”
“Thenyouhavegotadefinitesuspicionofsomebody?”
Poirotmerelyshookhisheadnoncommittally.
“IfonlyIknewalittlemore,”pleadedthegirl.“Itwouldmakeitsomucheasierforme.AndImightperhapsbeabletohelpyou.Yes,reallyImightbeabletohelpyou.”
Herpleadingwasverydisarming,butPoirotcontinuedtoshakehishead.
“TheDuchessofMertonisstillconvinceditwasmystepmother,”saidthegirlthoughtfully.ShegaveaslightquestioningglanceatPoirot.
Heshowednoreaction.
“ButIhardlyseehowthatcanbe.”
“Whatisyouropinionofher?Ofyourstepmother?”
“Well—Ihardlyknowher.IwasatschoolinPariswhenmyfathermarriedher.WhenIcamehome,shewasquitekind.Imean,shejustdidn’tnoticeIwasthere.Ithoughtherveryempty-headedand—well,mercenary.”
Poirotnodded.
“YouspokeoftheDuchessofMerton.Youhaveseenmuchofher?”
“Yes.Shehasbeenverykindtome.Ihavebeenwithheragreatdealduringthelastfortnight.Ithasbeenterrible—withallthetalk,andthereporters,andRonaldinprisonandeverything.”Sheshivered.“IfeelIhavenorealfriends.ButtheDuchesshasbeenwonderful,andhehasbeennicetoo—herson,Imean.”
“Youlikehim?”
“Heisshy,Ithink.Stiffandratherdifficulttogetonwith.Buthismothertalksalotabouthim,sothatIfeelIknowhimbetterthanIreallydo.”
“Isee.Tellme,Mademoiselle,youarefondofyourcousin?”
“OfRonald?Ofcourse.He—Ihaven’tseenmuchofhimthelasttwoyears—butbeforethatheusedtoliveinthehouse.I—Ialwaysthoughthewaswonderful.Alwaysjokingandthinkingupmadthingstodo.Oh!inthatgloomyhouseofoursitmadeallthedifference.”
Poirotnoddedsympathetically,buthewentontomakearemarkthatshockedmeinitscrudity.
“Youdonotwanttoseehim—hanged,then?”
“No,no.”Thegirlshiveredviolently.“Notthat.Oh!ifonlyitwereher—mystepmother.Itmustbeher.TheDuchesssaysitmust.”
“Ah!”saidPoirot.“IfonlyCaptainMarshhadstayedinthetaxi—eh?”
“Yes—atleast,whatdoyoumean?”Herbrowwrinkled.“Idon’tunderstand.”
“Ifhehadnotfollowedthatmanintothehouse.Didyouhearanyonecomein,bytheway?”
“No,Ididn’thearanything.”
“Whatdidyoudowhenyoucameintothehouse?”
“Iranstraightupstairs—tofetchthepearls,youknow.”
“Ofcourse.Ittookyousometimetofetchthem.”
“Yes.Icouldn’tfindthekeytomyjewelcaseallatonce.”
“Sooftenisthatthecase.Themoreinhaste,thelessthespeed.Itwassometimebeforeyoucamedown,andthen—youfoundyourcousininthehall?”
“Yes,comingfromthelibrary.”Sheswallowed.
“Icomprehend.Itgaveyouquiteaturn.”
“Yes,itdid.”Shelookedgratefulforhissympathetictone.“Itstartledme,yousee.”
“Quite,quite.”
“Ronniejustsaid:‘Hello,Dina,gotthem?’frombehindme—anditmademejump.”
“Yes,”saidPoirotgently.“AsIsaidbeforeitisapityhedidnotstayoutside.Thenthetaxidriverwouldhavebeenabletoswearheneverenteredthehouse.”
Shenodded.Hertearsbegantofall,splashingunheededonherlap.Shegotup.Poirottookherhand.
“Youwantmetosavehimforyou—isthatit?”
“Yes,yes—oh!please,yes.Youdon’tknow….”
Shestoodtherestrivingtocontrolherself,clenchingherhands.
“Lifehasnotbeeneasyforyou,Mademoiselle,”saidPoirotgently.“Iappreciatethat.No,ithasnotbeeneasy.Hastings,willyougetMademoiselleataxi?”
Iwentdownwiththegirlandsawherintothetaxi.Shehadcomposedherselfbynowandthankedmeveryprettily.
IfoundPoirotwalkingupanddowntheroom,hisbrowsknittedinthought.Helookedunhappy.
Iwasgladwhenthetelephonebellrangtodistracthim.
“Whoisthat?Oh,itisJapp.Bonjour,monami.”
“What’shegottosay?”Iasked,drawingnearerthetelephone.
Finally,aftervariousejaculations,Poirotspoke.
“Yes,andwhocalledforit?Dotheyknow?”
Whatevertheanswer,itwasnotwhatheexpected.Hisfacedroppedludicrously
“Areyousure?”
“………”
“No,itisalittleupsetting,thatisall.”
“………”
“Yes,Imustrearrangemyideas.”
“………”
“Comment?”
“………”
“Allthesame,Iwasrightaboutit.Yes,adetail,asyousay.”
“………”
“No,Iamstillofthesameopinion.IwouldprayofyoutomakestillfurtherinquiriesoftherestaurantsintheneighbourhoodofRegentGateandEuston,TottenhamCourtRoadandperhapsOxfordStreet.”
“………”
“Yes,awomanandaman.AndalsointheneighbourhoodoftheStrandjustbeforemidnight.Comment?”
“………”
“But,yes,IknowthatCaptainMarshwaswiththeDortheimers.ButthereareotherpeopleintheworldbesidesCaptainMarsh.”
“………”
“TosayIhavetheheadofapigisnotpretty.Toutdemême,obligemeinthismatter,Iprayofyou.”
“………”
Hereplacedthereceiver.
“Well?”Iaskedimpatiently.
“Isitwell?Iwonder.Hastings,thatgoldboxwasboughtinParis.Itwasorderedbyletteranditcomesfromawell-knownParisshopwhichspecializesinsuchthings.TheletterwassupposedlyfromaLadyAckerley—ConstanceAckerleytheletterwassigned.Naturallythereisnosuchperson.Theletterwasreceivedtwodaysbeforethemurder.Itorderedtheinitialsof(presumably)thewriterinrubiesandtheinscriptioninside.Itwasarushorder—tobecalledforthefollowingday.Thatis,thedaybeforethemurder.”
“Andwasitcalledfor?”
“Yes,itwascalledforandpaidforinnotes.”
“Whocalledforit?”Iaskedexcitedly.Ifeltweweregettingneartothetruth.
“Awomancalledforit,Hastings.”
“Awoman?”Isaid,surprised.
“Maisoui.Awoman—short,middle-aged,andwearingpince-nez.”
Welookedateachother,completelybaffled.
Twenty-five
ALUNCHEONPARTY
Itwas,Ithink,onthedayafterthatthatwewenttotheWidburns’luncheonpartyatClaridge’s.
NeitherPoirotnorIwereparticularlyanxioustogo.Itwas,asamatteroffact,aboutthesixthinvitationwehadreceived.Mrs.Widburnwasapersistentwomanandshelikedcelebrities.Undauntedbyrefusals,shefinallyofferedsuchachoiceofdatesthatcapitulationwasinevitable.Underthosecircumstancesthesoonerwewentandgotitoverthebetter.
PoirothadbeenveryuncommunicativeeversincethenewsfromParis.
Tomyremarksonthesubjecthereturnedalwaysthesameanswer.
“ThereissomethinghereIdonotcomprehend.”
Andonceortwicehemurmuredtohimself.
“Pince-nez.Pince-nezinParis.Pince-nezinCarlottaAdams’bag.”
Ireallyfeltgladoftheluncheonpartyasameansofdistraction.
YoungDonaldRosswasthereandcameupandgreetedmecheerily.Thereweremorementhanwomenandhewasputnexttomeattable.
JaneWilkinsonsatalmostoppositeus,andnexttoher,betweenherandMrs.Widburn,sattheyoungDukeofMerton.
Ifancied—ofcourseitmayhavebeenonlymyfancy—thathelookedslightlyillatease.Thecompanyinwhichhefoundhimselfwas,soIshouldimagine,littletohisliking.Hewasastrictlyconservativeandsomewhatreactionaryyoungman—thekindofcharacterthatseemedtohavesteppedoutoftheMiddleAgesbysomeregrettablemistake.HisinfatuationfortheextremelymodernJaneWilkinsonwasoneofthoseanachronisticjokesthatNaturesolovestoplay.
SeeingJane’sbeautyandappreciatingthecharmthatherexquisitelyhuskyvoicelenttothemosttriteutterances,Icouldhardlywonderathiscapitulation.Butonecangetusedtoperfectbeautyandanintoxicatingvoice!Itcrossedmymindthatperhapsevennowarayofcommonsensewasdissipatingthemistsofintoxicatedlove.Itwasachanceremark—aratherhumiliatinggaffeonJane’spartthatgavemethatimpression.
Somebody—Iforgotwho—hadutteredthephrase“judgementofParis,”andstraightawayJane’sdelightfulvoicewasuplifted.
“Paris?”shesaid.“Why,Parisdoesn’tcutanyicenowadays.It’sLondonandNewYorkthatcount.”
Assometimeshappens,thewordsfellinamomentarylullofconversation.Itwasanawkwardmoment.OnmyrightIheardDonaldRossdrawhisbreathsharply.Mrs.WidburnbegantotalkviolentlyaboutRussianopera.Everyonehastilysaidsomethingtosomebodyelse.Janealonelookedserenelyupanddownthetablewithouttheleastconsciousnessofhavingsaidanythingamiss.
ItwasthenInoticedtheDuke.Hislipsweredrawntightlytogether,hehadflushed,anditseemedtomeasthoughhedrewslightlyawayfromJane.HemusthavehadaforetasteofthefactthatforamanofhispositiontomarryaJaneWilkinsonmightleadtosomeawkwardcontretemps.
Assooftenhappens,Imadethefirstremarkthatcameintomyheadtomyleft-handneighbour,astouttitledladywhoarrangedchildren’smatinees.Irememberthattheremarkinquestionwas:“Whoisthatextraordinarylookingwomaninpurpleattheotherendofthetable?”Itwas,ofcourse,thelady’ssister!Havingstammeredapologies,IturnedandchattedtoRoss,whoansweredinmonosyllables.
Itwasthen,rebuffedonbothsides,thatInoticedBryanMartin.HemusthavebeenlateforIhadnotseenhimbefore.
Hewasalittlewayfurtherdownthetableonmysideandwasleaningforwardandchattingwithgreatanimationtoaprettyblondewoman.
ItwassometimesinceIhadseenhimatclosequarters,andIwasstruckatoncebythegreatimprovementinhislooks.Thehaggardlineshadalmostdisappeared.Helookedyoungerandineverywaymorefit.Hewaslaughingandchaffinghisvis-à-visandseemedinfirst-ratespirits.
Ididnothavetimetoobservehimfurther,foratthatmomentmystoutneighbourforgavemeandgraciouslypermittedmetolistentoalongmonologueonthebeautiesofaChildren’sMatineewhichshewasorganizingforCharity.
Poirothadtoleaveearlyashehadanappointment.HewasinvestigatingthestrangedisappearanceofanAmbassador’sbootsandhadarendezvousfixedforhalfpasttwo.HechargedmetomakehisadieustoMrs.Widburn.WhileIwaswaitingtodoso—notaneasymatter,forshewasatthemomentcloselysurroundedbydepartingfriendsallbreathingout“Darlings”atagreatrate—somebodytouchedmeontheshoulder.
ItwasyoungRoss.
“Isn’tM.Poirothere?Iwantedtospeaktohim.”
IexplainedthatPoirothadjustdeparted.
Rossseemedtakenaback.Lookingmorecloselyathim,Isawthatsomethingseemedtohaveupsethim.Helookedwhiteandstrainedandhehadaqueeruncertainlookinhiseyes.
“Didyouwanttoseehimparticularly?”Iasked.
Heansweredslowly.
“I—don’tknow.”
ItwassuchaqueeranswerthatIstaredathiminsurprise.Heflushed.
“Itsoundsodd,Iknow.Thetruthisthatsomethingratherqueerhashappened.SomethingthatIcan’tmakeout.I—I’dlikeM.Poirot’sadviceaboutit.Because,yousee,Idon’tknowwhattodo—Idon’twanttobotherhim,but—”
HelookedsopuzzledandunhappythatIhastenedtoreassurehim.
“Poirothasgonetokeepanappointment,”Isaid.“ButIknowhemeanstobebackforfiveo’clock.Whynotringhimupthen,orcomeandseehim?”
“Thanks.Doyouknow,IthinkIwill.Fiveo’clock?”
“Betterringupfirst,”Isaid,“andmakesurebeforecominground.”
“Allright.Iwill.Thanks,Hastings.Yousee,Ithinkitmight—justmight—beveryimportant.”
InoddedandturnedagaintowhereMrs.Widburnwasdispensinghoniedwordsandlimphandshakes.
Mydutydone,Iwasturningawaywhenahandwasslippedthroughmyarm.
“Don’tcutme,”saidamerryvoice.
ItwasJennyDriver—lookingextremelychic,bytheway.
“Hello,”Isaid.“Wherehaveyousprungfrom?”
“Iwaslunchingatthenexttabletoyou.”
“Ididn’tseeyou.Howisbusiness?”
“Booming,thankyou.”
“Thesoupplatesgoingwell?”
“Soupplates,asyourudelycallthem,aregoingverywell.Wheneverybodyhasgotthoroughlyladenupwiththem,there’sgoingtobedirtyworkdone.Somethinglikeablisterwithafeatherattachedisgoingtobewornbanginthemiddleoftheforehead.”
“Unscrupulous,”Isaid.
“Notatall.Somebodymustcometotherescueoftheostriches.They’reallonthedole.”
Shelaughedandmovedaway.
“Good-bye.I’mtakinganafternoonofffrombusiness.Goingforaspininthecountry.”
“Andverynicetoo,”Isaidapprovingly.“It’sstiflinginLondontoday.”
Imyselfwalkedleisurelythroughthepark.Ireachedhomeaboutfouro’clock.Poirothadnotyetcomein.Itwastwentyminutestofivewhenhereturned.Hewastwinklingandclearlyinagoodhumour.
“Isee,Holmes,”Iremarked,“thatyouhavetrackedtheambassadorialboots.”
“Itwasacaseofcocainesmuggling.Veryingenious.ForthelasthourIhavebeeninaladies’beautyparlour.Therewasagirltherewithauburnhairwhowouldhavecapturedyoursusceptibleheartatonce.”
PoirotalwayshastheimpressionthatIamparticularlysusceptibletoauburnhair.Idonotbothertoargueaboutit
Thetelephonerang.
“That’sprobablyDonaldRoss,”IsaidasIwentacrosstotheinstrument.
“DonaldRoss?”
“Yes,theyoungmanwemetatChiswick.Hewantstoseeyouaboutsomething.”
Itookdownthereceiver.
“Hello.CaptainHastingsspeaking.”
ItwasRoss.
“Oh!isthatyou,Hastings?HasM.Poirotcomein?”
“Yes,he’sherenow.Doyouwanttospeaktohimorareyoucominground?”
“It’snothingmuch.Icantellhimjustaswelloverthetelephone.”
“Right.Holdon.”
Poirotcameforwardandtookthereceiver.IwassoclosethatIcouldhear,faintly,Ross’svoice.
“IsthatM.Poirot?”Thevoicesoundedeager—excited.
“Yes,itisI.”
“Lookhere,Idon’twanttobotheryou,butthere’ssomethingthatseemstomeabitodd.It’sinconnectionwithLordEdgware’sdeath.”
IsawPoirot’sfiguregotaut.
“Continue,continue.”
“Itmayseemjustnonsensetoyou—”
“No,no.Tellme,allthesame.”
“ItwasParissetmeoff.Yousee—”VeryfaintlyIheardabelltrilling.
“Halfasecond,”saidRoss.
Therewasthesoundofthereceiverbeinglaiddown.
Wewaited.Poirotatthemouthpiece.Iwasstandingbesidehim.
Isay—wewaited….
Twominutespassed…threeminutes—fourminutes—fiveminutes.
Poirotshiftedhisfeetuneasily.Heglancedupattheclock.
ThenhemovedthehookupanddownandspoketotheExchange.Heturnedtome.
“Thereceiverisstilloffattheotherend,butthereisnoreply.Theycannotgetananswer.Quick,Hastings,lookupRoss’saddressinthetelephonebook.Wemustgothereatonce.”
Twenty-six
PARIS?
Afewminuteslaterwewerejumpingintoataxi.
Poirot’sfacewasverygrave.
“Iamafraid,Hastings,”hesaid.“Iamafraid.”
“Youdon’tmean—”Isaidandstopped.
“Weareupagainstsomebodywhohasalreadystrucktwice—thatpersonwillnothesitatetostrikeagain.Heistwistingandturninglikearat,fightingforhislife.Rossisadanger.ThenRosswillbeeliminated.”
“Waswhathehadtotellsoimportant?”Iaskeddoubtfully.“Hedidnotseemtothinkso.”
“Thenhewaswrong.Evidentlywhathehadtotellwasofsupremeimportance.”
“Buthowcouldanyoneknow?”
“Hespoketoyou,yousay.There,atClaridge’s.Withpeopleallround.Madness—uttermadness.Ah!whydidyounotbringhimbackwithyou—guardhim—letnoonenearhimtillIhadheardwhathehadtosay.”
“Ineverthought—Ineverdreamt—”Istammered.
Poirotmadeaquickgesture.
“Donotblameyourself—howcouldyouknow?I—Iwouldhaveknown.Themurderer,seeyou,Hastings,isascunningasatigerandasrelentless.Ah!shallweneverarrive?”
Wewerethereatlast.RosslivedinamaisonetteonthefirstfloorofahouseinabigsquareinKensington.Acardstuckonalittleslotbythedoorbellgaveustheinformation.Thehalldoorwasopen.Insidewasabigflightofstairs.
“Soeasytocomein.Nonetosee,”murmuredPoirotashesprangupthestairs.
OnthefirstfloorwasakindofpartitionandanarrowdoorwithaYalelock.Ross’scardwasstuckinthecentreofthedoor.
Wepausedthere.Everywheretherewasdeadsilence.
Ipushedthedoor—tomysurpriseityielded.
Weentered.
Therewasanarrowhallandanopendooroneside,anotherinfrontofusopeningintowhatwasevidentlythesittingroom.
Intothissittingroomwewent.Itwasthedividedhalfofabigfrontdrawingroom.Itwascheaplybutcomfortablyfurnishedanditwasempty.Onasmalltablewasthetelephone,thereceiverstooddownbesidetheinstrument.
Poirottookaswiftstepforward,lookedround,thenshookhishead.
“Nothere.Come,Hastings.”
Weretracedourstepsand,goingintothehall,wepassedthroughtheotherdoor.Theroomwasatinydiningroom.Atonesideofthetable,fallensidewaysfromachairandsprawledacrossthetable,wasRoss.
Poirotbentoverhim.
Hestraightenedup—hisfacewaswhite.
“He’sdead.Stabbedatthebaseoftheskull.”
Forlongafterwardstheeventsofthatafternoonremainedlikeanightmareinmymind.Icouldnotridmyselfofadreadfulfeelingofresponsibility.
Muchlater,thatevening,whenwewerealonetogether,IstammeredouttoPoirotmybitterself-reproachings.Herespondedquickly.
“No,no,donotblameyourself.Howcouldyouhavesuspected?ThegoodGodhasnotgivenyouasuspiciousnaturetobeginwith.”
“Youwouldhavesuspected?”
“Thatisdifferent.Allmylife,yousee,Ihavetrackeddownmurderers.Iknowhow,eachtime,theimpulsetokillbecomesstronger,till,atlast,foratrivialcause—”Hebrokeoff.
Hehadbeenveryquieteversinceourghastlydiscovery.Allthroughthearrivalofthepolice,thequestioningoftheotherpeopleinthehouse,thehundredandonedetailsofthedreadfulroutinefollowinguponamurder,Poirothadremainedaloof—strangelyquiet—afarawayspeculativelookinhiseyes.Now,ashebrokeoffhissentence,thatsame
“Wehavenotimetowasteinregrets,Hastings,”hesaidquietly.“Notimetosay‘If’—Thepooryoungmanwhoisdeadhadsomethingtotellus.Andweknownowthatthatsomethingmusthavebeenofgreatimportance—otherwisehewouldnothavebeenkilled.Sincehecannolongertellus—wehavegottoguess.Wehavegottoguess—withonlyonelittlecluetoguideus.”
“Paris,”Isaid.
“Yes,Paris.”Hegotupandbegantostrollupanddown.
“TherehavebeenseveralmentionsofParisinthisbusiness,butunluckilyindifferentconnections.ThereisthewordParisengravedinthegoldbox.ParisinNovemberlast.MissAdamswastherethen—perhapsRosswastherealso.WastheresomeoneelsetherewhomRossknew?WhomhesawwithMissAdamsundersomewhatpeculiarcircumstances?”
“Wecanneverknow,”Isaid.
“Yes,yes,wecanknow.Weshallknow!Thepowerofthehumanbrain,Hastings,isalmostunlimited.WhatothermentionsofParishaveweinconnectionwiththecase?Thereistheshortwomanwiththepince-nezwhocalledfortheboxatthejeweller’sthere.WassheknowntoRoss?TheDukeofMertonwasinPariswhenthecrimewascommitted.Paris,Paris,Paris.LordEdgwarewasgoingtoParis—Ah!possiblywehavesomethingthere.WashekilledtopreventhimgoingtoParis?”
Hesatdownagain,hisbrowsdrawntogether.Icouldalmostfeelthewavesofhisfuriousconcentrationofthought.
“Whathappenedatthatluncheon?”hemurmured.“SomecasualwordorphrasemusthaveshowntoDonaldRossthesignificanceofknowledgewhichwasinhispossession,butwhichuptothenhehadnotknownwassignificant.WastheresomementionofFrance?OfParis?Upyourendofthetable,Imean.”
“ThewordPariswasmentionedbutnotinthatconnection.”
ItoldhimaboutJaneWilkinson’s“gaffe.”
“Thatprobablyexplainsit,”hesaidthoughtfully.“ThewordPariswouldbesufficient—takeninconjunctionwithsomethingelse.Butwhatwasthatsomethingelse?AtwhatwasRosslooking?Orofwhathadhebeenspeakingwhenthatwordwasuttered?”
“He’dbeentalkingaboutScottishsuperstitions.”
“Andhiseyeswere—where?”
“I’mnotsure.IthinkhewaslookinguptowardstheheadofthetablewhereMrs.Widburnwassitting.”
“Whosatnexttoher?”
“TheDukeofMerton,thenJaneWilkinson,thensomefellowIdidn’tknow.”
“M.leDuc.ItispossiblethathewaslookingatMleDucwhenthewordPariswasspoken.TheDuke,remember,wasinParisorwassupposedtobeinParisatthetimeofthecrime.SupposeRosssuddenlyrememberedsomethingwhichwenttoshowthatMertonwasnotinParis.”
“MydearPoirot!”
“Yes,youconsiderthatanabsurdity.Sodoeseveryone.HadM.leDucamotiveforthecrime?Yes,averystrongone.Buttosupposethathecommittedit—oh!absurd.Heissorich,ofsoassuredaposition,ofsuchawell-knownloftycharacter.Noonewillscrutinizehisalibitoocarefully.Andyettofakeanalibiinabighotelisnotsodifficult.Togoacrossbytheafternoonservice—toreturn—itcouldbedone.Tellme,Hastings,didRossnotsayanythingwhenthewordPariswasmentioned?Didheshownoemotion?”
“Idoseemtorememberthathedrewinhisbreathrathersharply.”
“Andhismannerwhenhespoketoyouafterwards.Wasitbewildered?Confused?”
“Thatabsolutelydescribesit.”
“Précisément.Anideahascometohim.Hethinksitpreposterous!Absurd!Andyet—hehesitatestovoiceit.Firsthewillspeaktome.Butalas!whenhehasmadeuphismind,Iamalreadydeparted.”
“Ifhehadonlysaidalittlemoretome,”Ilamented.
“Yes.Ifonly—Whowasnearyouatthetime?”
“Well,everybody,moreorless.Theyweresayinggood-byetoMrs.Widburn.Ididn’tnoticeparticularly.”
Poirotgotupagain.
“HaveIbeenallwrong?”hemurmuredashebeganoncemoretopacethefloor.“Allthetime,haveIbeenwrong?”
Ilookedathimwithsympathy.ExactlywhattheideaswerethatpassedthroughhisheadIdidnotknow.“Closeasanoyster”Japphadcalledhim,andtheScotlandYardinspector’swordsweretrulydescriptive.Ionlyknowthatnow,atthismoment,hewasatwarwithhimself.
“Atanyrate,”Isaid,“thismurdercannotbeputdowntoRonaldMarsh.”
“Itisapointinhisfavour,”myfriendsaidabsentmindedly.“Butthatdoesnotconcernusforthemoment.”
Abruptly,asbefore,hesatdown.
“Icannotbeentirelywrong.Hastings,doyourememberthatIonceposedtomyselffivequestions?”
“Iseemtorememberdimlysomethingofthesort.”
“Theywere:WhydidLordEdgwarechangehismindonthesubjectofdivorce?Whatistheexplanationoftheletterhesaidhewrotetohiswifeandwhichshesaidshenevergot?Whywastherethatexpressionofrageonhisfacewhenwelefthishousethatday?Whatwereapairofpince-nezdoinginCarlottaAdams’handbag?Whydidsomeonetelephone
“Yes,thesewerethequestions,”Isaid.“Iremembernow.”
“Hastings,Ihavehadinmindallalongacertainlittleidea.Anideaastowhothemanwas—themanbehind.ThreeofthosequestionsIhaveanswered—andtheanswersaccordwithmylittleidea.Buttwoofthequestions,Hastings,Icannotanswer.
“Youseewhatthatmeans.EitherIamwrongastotheperson,anditcannotbethatperson.OrelsetheanswertothetwoquestionsthatIcannotansweristhereallthetime.Whichisit,Hastings?Whichisit?”
Rising,hewenttohisdesk,unlockeditandtookouttheletterLucieAdamshadsenthimfromAmerica.HehadaskedJapptolethimkeepitadayortwoandJapphadagreed.Poirotlaiditonthetableinfrontofhimandporedoverit.
Theminuteswentby.Iyawnedandpickedupabook.IdidnotthinkthatPoirotwouldgetmuchresultfromhisstudy.Wehadalreadygoneoverandovertheletter.GrantedthatitwasnotRonaldMarshwhowasreferredto,therewasnothingwhatevertoshowwhoelseitmightbe.
Iturnedthepagesofmybook….
Possiblydozedoff….
SuddenlyPoirotutteredalowcry.Isatupabruptly.
Hewaslookingatmewithanindescribableexpression,hiseyesgreenandshining.
“Hastings,Hastings.”
“Yes,whatisit?”
“DoyourememberIsaidtoyouthatifthemurdererhadbeenamanoforderandmethodhewouldhavecutthispage,nottornit?”
“Yes?”
“Iwaswrong.Thereisorderandmethodthroughoutthiscrime.Thepagehadtobetorn,notcut.Lookforyourself.”
Ilooked.
“Ehbien,yousee?”
Ishookmyhead.
“Youmeanhewasinahurry?”
“Hurryornohurryitwouldbethesamething.Doyounotsee,myfriend?Thepagehadtobetorn….”
Ishookmyhead.
InalowvoicePoirotsaid:
“Ihavebeenfoolish.Ihavebeenblind.Butnow—now—weshallgeton!”
Twenty-seven
CONCERNINGPINCE-NEZ
Aminutelaterhismoodhadchanged.Hesprangtohisfeet.
Ialsosprangtomine—completelyuncomprehendingbutwilling.
“Wewilltakeataxi.Itisonlynineo’clock.Nottoolatetomakeavisit.”
Ihurriedafterhimdownthestairs.
“Whomarewegoingtovisit?”
“WearegoingtoRegentGate.”
Ijudgeditwisesttoholdmypeace.Poirot,Isaw,wasnotinthemoodforbeingquestioned.ThathewasgreatlyexcitedIcouldsee.Aswesatsidebysideinthetaxihisfingersdrummedonhiskneeswithanervousimpatiencemostunlikehisusualcalm.
IwentoverinmymindeverywordofCarlottaAdams’lettertohersister.BythistimeIalmostknewitbyheart.IrepeatedagainandagaintomyselfPoirot’swordsaboutthetornpage.
Butitwasnogood.AsfarasIwasconcerned,Poirot’swordssimplydidnotmakesense.Whyhadapagegottobetorn.No,Icouldnotseeit.
AnewbutleropenedthedoortousatRegentGate.PoirotaskedforMissCarroll,andaswefollowedthebutlerupthestairsIwonderedforthefiftiethtimewheretheformer“Greekgod”couldbe.Sofarthepolicehadfailedutterlytorunhimtoearth.AsuddenshiverpassedovermeasIreflectedthatperhapshe,too,wasdead….
ThesightofMissCarroll,briskandneatandeminentlysane,recalledmefromthesefantasticspeculations.ShewasclearlyverymuchsurprisedtoseePoirot.
“Iamgladtofindyoustillhere,Mademoiselle,”saidPoirotashebowedoverherhand.“Iwasafraidyoumightbenolongerinthehouse.”
“Geraldinewouldnothearofmyleaving,”saidMissCarroll.“Shebeggedmetostayon.Andreally,atatimelikethis,thepoorchildneedssomeone.Ifsheneedsnothingelse,sheneedsabuffer.AndIcanassureyou,whenneedbe,Imakeaveryefficientbuffer,M.Poirot.”
Hermouthtookonagrimline.Ifeltthatshewouldhaveashortwaywithreportersornewshunters.
“Mademoiselle,youhavealwaysseemedtomethepatternofefficiency.Theefficiency,Iadmireitverymuch.Itisrare.MademoiselleMarshno,shehasnotgotthepracticalmind.”
“She’sadreamer,”saidMissCarroll.“Completelyimpractical.Alwayshasbeen.Luckyshehasn’tgotherlivingtoget.”
“Yes,indeed.”
“ButIdon’tsupposeyoucameheretotalkaboutpeoplebeingpracticalorimpractical.WhatcanIdoforyou,M.Poirot?”
IdonotthinkPoirotquitelikedtoberecalledtothepointinthisfashion.Hewassomewhataddictedtotheobliqueapproach.WithMissCarroll,however,suchathingwasnotpracticable.Sheblinkedathimsuspiciouslythroughherstrongglasses.
“ThereareafewpointsonwhichIshouldlikedefiniteinformation.IknowIcantrustyourmemory,MissCarroll.”
“Iwouldn’tbemuchuseasasecretaryifyoucouldn’t,”saidMissCarrollgrimly.
“WasLordEdgwareinParislastNovember?”
“Yes.”
“Canyoutellmethedateofhisvisit?”
“Ishallhavetolookitup.”
Sherose,unlockedadrawer,tookoutasmallboundbook,turnedthepagesandfinallyannounced:
“LordEdgwarewenttoParisonNovember3rdandreturnedonthe7th.HealsowentoveronNovember20thandreturnedonDecember4th.Anythingmore?”
“Yes.Forwhatpurposedidhego?”
“Onthefirstoccasionhewenttoseesomestatuetteswhichhethoughtofpurchasingandwhichweretobeauctionedlater.OnthesecondoccasionhehadnodefinitepurposeinviewsofarasIknow.”
“DidMademoiselleMarshaccompanyherfatheroneitheroccasion?”
“Sheneveraccompaniedherfatheronanyoccasion,M.Poirot.LordEdgwarewouldneverhavedreamedofsuchathing.AtthattimeshewasataconventinParis,butIdonotthinkherfatherwenttoseeherortookherout—atleastitwouldsurprisemeverymuchifhehad.”
“Youyourselfdidnotaccompanyhim?”
“No.”
Shelookedathimcuriouslyandthensaidabruptly:
“Whyareyouaskingmethesequestions,M.Poirot?Whatisthepointofthem?”
Poirotdidnotreplytothisquestion.Insteadhesaid:
“MissMarshisveryfondofhercousin,isshenot?”
“Really,M.Poirot,Idon’tseewhatthathasgottodowithyou.”
“Shecametoseemetheotherday!Youknewthat?”
“No,Ididnot.”Sheseemedstartled.“Whatdidshesay?”
“Shetoldme—thoughnotinactualwords—thatshewasveryfondofhercousin.”
“Well,then,whyaskme?”
“BecauseIseekyouropinion.”
ThistimeMissCarrolldecidedtoanswer.
“Muchtoofondofhiminmyopinion.Alwayshasbeen.”
“YoudonotlikethepresentLordEdgware?”
“Idon’tsaythat.I’venouseforhim,that’sall.He’snotserious.Idon’tdenyhe’sgotapleasantwaywithhim.Hecantalkyouround.ButI’dratherseeGeraldinegettinginterestedinsomeonewithalittlemorebackbone.”
“SuchastheDukeofMerton?”
“Idon’tknowtheDuke.Atanyrate,heseemstotakethedutiesofhispositionseriously.Buthe’srunningafterthatwoman—thatpreciousJaneWilkinson.”
“Hismother—”
“Oh!IdaresayhismotherwouldpreferhimtomarryGeraldine.Butwhatcanmothersdo?Sonsneverwanttomarrythegirlstheirmotherswantthemtomarry.”
“DoyouthinkthatMissMarsh’scousincaresforher?”
“Doesn’tmatterwhetherhedoesordoesn’tinthepositionhe’sin.”
“Youthink,then,thathewillbecondemned?”
“No,Idon’t.Idon’tthinkhedidit.”
“Buthemightbecondemnedallthesame?”
MissCarrolldidnotreply.
“Imustnotdetainyou.”Poirotrose.“Bytheway,didyouknowCarlottaAdams?”
“Isawheract.Veryclever.”
“Yes,shewasclever.”Heseemedlostinmeditation.“Ah!Ihaveputdownmygloves.”
Reachingforwardtogetthemfromthetablewherehehadlaidthem,hiscuffcaughtthechainofMissCarroll’spince-nezandjerkedthemoff.Poirotretrievedthemandthegloveswhichhehaddropped,utteringconfusedapologies.
“Imustapologizealsooncemorefordisturbingyou,”heended.“ButIfanciedtheremightbesomeclueinadisputeLordEdgwarehadwithsomeonelastyear.HencemyquestionsaboutParis.Aforlornhope,Ifear,butMademoiselleseemedsoverypositiveitwasnothercousinwhocommittedthecrime.Remarkablypositiveshewas.Well,goodnight,Mademoiselle,andathousandpardonsfordisturbingyou.”
WehadreachedthedoorwhenMissCarroll’svoicerecalledus.
“M.Poirot,thesearen’tmyglasses.Ican’tseethroughthem.”
“Comment?”Poirotstaredatherinamazement.Thenhisfacebrokeupintosmiles.
“ImbecilethatIam!MyownglassesfelloutofmypocketasIstoopedtogettheglovesandpickupyours.Ihavemixedthetwopairs.Theylookveryalike,yousee.”
Anexchangewasmade,withsmilesonbothsides,andwetookourdeparture.
“Poirot,”Isaidwhenwewereoutside.“Youdon’twearglasses.”
Hebeamedatme.
“Penetrating!Howquicklyyouseethepoint.”
“Thosewerethepince-nezIfoundinCarlottaAdams’handbag?”
“Correct.”
“WhydidyouthinktheymightbeMissCarroll’s?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Sheistheonlypersonconnectedwiththecasewhowearsglasses.”
“However,theyarenothers,”Isaidthoughtfully.
“Sosheaffirms.”
“Yoususpiciousolddevil.”
“Notatall,notatall.Probablyshespokethetruth.Ithinkshedidspeakthetruth.OtherwiseIdoubtifshewouldhavenoticedthesubstitution.Ididitveryadroitly,myfriend.”
Wewerestrollingthroughthestreetsmoreorlessatrandom.Isuggestedataxi,butPoirotshookhishead.
“Ihaveneedtothink,myfriend.Walkingaidsme.”
Isaidnomore.ThenightwasacloseoneandIwasinnohurrytoreturnhome
“WereyourquestionsaboutParismerecamouflage?”Iaskedcuriously.
“Notentirely.”
“Westillhaven’tsolvedthemysteryoftheinitialD,”Isaidthoughtfully.“It’soddthatnobodytodowiththecasehasaninitialD—eithersurnameorChristianname—except—oh!yes,that’sodd—exceptDonaldRosshimself.Andhe’sdead.”
“Yes,”saidPoirotinasombrevoice.“Heisdead.”
Irememberedanothereveningwhenthreeofushadwalkedatnight.Rememberedsomethingelse,too,anddrewmybreathinsharply.
“ByJove,Poirot,”Isaid.“Doyouremember?”
“Rememberwhat,myfriend?”
“WhatRosssaidaboutthirteenattable.Andhewasthefirsttogetup.”
Poirotdidnotanswer.Ifeltalittleuncomfortableasonealwaysdoeswhensuperstitionisprovedjustified.
“Itisqueer,”Isaidinalowvoice.“Youmustadmititisqueer.”
“Eh?”
“Isaiditwasqueer—aboutRossandthirteen.Poirot,whatareyouthinkingabout?”
Tomyutteramazementand,Imustadmit,somewhattomydisgust,Poirotbegansuddenlytoshakewithlaughter.Heshookandheshook.Somethingwasevidentlycausinghimthemostexquisitemirth.
“Whatthedevilareyoulaughingat?”Isaidsharply.
“Oh!Oh!Oh!”gaspedPoirot.“Itisnothing.ItisthatIthinkofariddleIheardtheotherday.Iwilltellittoyou.Whatisitthathastwolegs,feathers,andbarkslikeadog?”
“Achicken,ofcourse,”Isaidwearily.“Iknewthatinthenursery.”
“Youaretoowellinformed,Hastings.Youshouldsay,‘Idonotknow.’Andthenme,Isay,‘Achicken,’andthenyousay,‘Butachickendoesnotbarklikeadog,’andIsay,‘Ah!Iputthatintomakeitmoredifficult.’Supposing,Hastings,thattherewehavetheexplanationoftheletterD?”
“Whatnonsense!”
“Yes,tomostpeople,buttoacertaintypeofmind.Oh!ifIhadonlysomeoneIcouldask….”
Wewerepassingabigcinema.Peoplewerestreamingoutofitdiscussingtheirownaffairs,theirservants,theirfriendsoftheoppositesex,andjustoccasionally,thepicturetheyhadjustseen.
WithagroupofthemwecrossedtheEustonRoad.
“Ilovedit,”agirlwassighing.“IthinkBryanMartin’sjustwonderful.Inevermissanypicturehe’sin.Thewayherodedownthecliffandgotthereintimewiththepapers.”
Herescortwaslessenthusiastic.
“Idioticstory.Ifthey’djusthadthesensetoaskEllisrightaway.Whichanyoneworthsensewouldhavedone—”
Therestwaslost.ReachingthepavementIturnedbacktoseePoirotstandinginthemiddleoftheroadwithbusesbearingdownonhimfromeitherside.InstinctivelyIputmyhandsovermyeyes.Therewasajarringofbrakes,andsomerichbusdriverlanguage.InadignifiedmannerPoirotwalkedtothekerb.Helookedlikeamanwalkinginhissleep.
“Poirot,”Isaid,“wereyoumad?”
“No,monami.Itwasjustthat—somethingcametome.There,atthatmoment.”
“Adamnedbadmoment,”Isaid.“Andverynearlyyourlastone.”
“Nomatter.Ah,monami—Ihavebeenblind,deaf,insensible.NowIseetheanswerstoallthosequestions—yes,allfiveofthem.Yes—Iseeitall…Sosimple,sochildishlysimple….”
Twenty-eight
POIROTASKSAFEWQUESTIONS
Wehadacuriouswalkhome.
Poirotwasclearlyfollowingoutsometrainofthoughtinhisownmind.Occasionallyhemurmuredawordunderhisbreath.Iheardoneortwoofthem.Oncehesaid,“Candles,”andanothertimehesaidsomethingthatsoundedlike“douzaine.”IsupposeifIhadbeenreallybrightIshouldhaveseenthelinehisthoughtsweretaking.Itwasreallysuchacleartrail.However,atthetime,itsoundedtomemeregibberish.
Nosoonerwereweathomethanheflewtothetelephone.HeranguptheSavoyandaskedtospeaktoLadyEdgware.
“Notahope,oldboy,”Isaidwithsomeamusement.
Poirot,asIhaveoftentoldhim,isoneoftheworst-informedmenintheworld.
“Don’tyouknow?”Iwenton.“She’sinanewplay.She’llbeatthetheatre.It’sonlyhalfpastten.”
Poirotpaidnoattentiontome.Hewasspeakingtothehotelclerk,whowasevidentlytellinghimexactlywhatIhadjusttoldhim.
“Ah!isthatso?IshouldlikethentospeaktoLadyEdgware’smaid.”
Inafewminutestheconnectionwasmade.
“IsthatLadyEdgware’smaid?ThisisM.Poirotspeaking.M.HerculePoirot.Yourememberme,doyounot?”
“………”
“Trêsbien.Now,youunderstand,somethingofimportancehasarisen.Iwouldlikeyoutocomeandseemeatonce.”
“………”
“Butyes,veryimportant.Iwillgiveyoutheaddress.Listencarefully.”
Herepeatedittwice,thenhungupthereceiverwithathoughtfulface.
“Whatistheidea?”Iaskedcuriously.“Haveyoureallygotapieceofinformation?”
“No,Hastings,itisshewhowillgivemetheinformation.”
“Whatinformation?”
“Informationaboutacertainperson.”
“JaneWilkinson?”
“Oh!astoher,IhavealltheinformationIneed.Iknowherbacksidebefore,asyousay.”
“Who,then?”
Poirotgavemeoneofhissupremelyirritatingsmilesandtoldmetowaitandsee.
Hethenbusiedhimselfintidyinguptheroominafussymanner.
Tenminuteslaterthemaidarrived.Sheseemedalittlenervousanduncertain.Asmallneatfiguredressedinblack,shepeeredaboutherdoubtfully.
Poirotbustledforward.
“Ah!youhavecome.Thatismostkind.Sithere,willyounow,Mademoiselle—Ellis,Ithink?”
“Yes,sir.Ellis.”
ShesatdownonthechairPoirothaddrawnforwardforher.
Shesatwithherhandsfoldedonherlaplookingfromonetotheotherofus.Hersmallbloodlessfacewasquitecomposedandherthinlipswerepinchedtogether.
“Tobeginwith,MissEllis,youhavebeenwithLadyEdgwarehowlong?”
“Threeyears,sir.”
“ThatisasIthought.Youknowheraffairswell.”
Ellisdidnotreply.Shelookeddisapproving.
“WhatImeanis,youshouldhaveagoodideaofwhoherenemiesarelikelytobe.”
Elliscompressedherlipsmoretightly.
“Mostwomenhavetriedtodoheraspitefulturn,sir.Yes,they’veallbeenagainsther,nastyjealousy.”
“Herownsexdidnotlikeher?”
“No,sir.She’stoogood-looking.Andshealwaysgetswhatshewants.There’salotofnastyjealousyinthetheatricalprofession.”
“Whataboutmen?”
Ellisallowedasoursmiletoappearonherwitheredcountenance.
“Shecandowhatshelikeswiththegentlemen,sir,andthat’safact.”
“Iagreewithyou,”saidPoirot,smiling.“Yet,evenallowingforthat,Icanimaginecircumstancesarising—”Hebrokeoff.
Thenhesaidinadifferentvoice:
“YouknowMr.BryanMartin,thefilmactor?”
“Oh!yes,sir.”
“Verywell?”
“Verywell,indeed.”
“IbelieveIamnotmistakeninsayingthatalittlelessthanayearagoMr.BryanMartinwasverydeeplyinlovewithyourmistress.”
“Headoverears,sir.Andit’s‘is’not‘was,’ifyouaskme.”
“Hebelievedatthattimeshewouldmarryhim—eh?”
“Yes,sir.”
“Didsheeverseriouslyconsidermarryinghim?”
“Shethoughtofit,sir.Ifshecouldhavegotherfreedomfromhislordship,Ibelieveshewouldhavemarriedhim.”
“Andthen,Isuppose,theDukeofMertonappearedonthescene?”
“Yes,sir.HewasdoingatourthroughtheStates.Loveatfirstsightitwaswithhim.”
“Andsogood-byetoBryanMartin’schances?”
Ellisnodded.
“OfcourseMr.Martinmadeanenormousamountofmoney,”sheexplained.“ButtheDukeofMertonhadpositionaswell.Andherladyshipisverykeenonposition.MarriedtotheDuke,she’dhavebeenoneofthefirstladiesintheland.”
Themaid’svoiceheldasmugcomplacency.Itamusedme.
“SoMr.BryanMartinwas—howdoyousay—turneddown?Didhetakeitbadly?”
“Hecarriedonsomethingawful,sir.”
“Ah!”
“Hethreatenedherwitharevolveronce.Andthesceneshemade.Itfrightenedme,itdid.Hewasdrinkingalot,too.Hewentalltopieces.”
“Butintheendhecalmeddown.”
“Soitseemed,sir.Buthestillhungabout.AndIdidn’tlikethelookinhiseye.I’vewarnedherladyshipaboutit,butsheonlylaughed.She’sonewhoenjoysfeelingherpower,ifyouknowwhatImean.”
“Yes,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.“IthinkIknowwhatyoumean.”
“We’venotseensomuchofhimjustlately,sir.Agoodthinginmyopinion.He’sbeginningtogetoverit,Ihope.”
“Perhaps.”
SomethinginPoirot’sutteranceofthewordseemtostrikeher.Sheaskedanxiously:
“Youdon’tthinkshe’sindanger,sir?”
“Yes,”saidPoirotgravely.“Ithinksheisingreatdanger.Butshehasbroughtitonherself.”
Hishand,runningaimlesslyalongthemantelshelf,caughtavaseofrosesandittoppledover.ThewaterfellonEllis’sfaceandhead.IhadseldomknownPoirotclumsy,andIcoulddeducefromitthathewasinagreatstateofmentalperturbation.Hewasveryupset—rushedforatowel—tenderlyassistedthemaidtodryherfaceandneckandwasprofuseinapologies.
Finallyatreasurynotechangedhandsandheescortedhertowardsthedoor,thankingherforhergoodnessincoming.
“Butitisstillearly,”hesaid,glancingattheclock.“Youwillbebackbeforeyourmistressreturns.”
“Oh!thatisquiteallright,sir.Sheisgoingouttosupper,Ithink,andanyway,sheneverexpectsmetositupforherunlessshesayssospecial.”
SuddenlyPoirotflewoffatatangent.
“Mademoiselle,pardonme,butyouarelimping.”
“That’snothing,sir.Myfeetarealittlepainful.”
“Thecorns?”murmuredPoirotintheconfidentialvoiceofonesufferertoanother.
Corns,apparently,itwas.Poirotexpatiateduponacertainremedywhich,accordingtohim,workedwonders.
FinallyEllisdeparted.
Iwasfullofcuriosity.
“Well,Poirot?”Isaid.“Well?”
Hesmiledatmyeagerness.
“Nothingmorethisevening,myfriend.Tomorrowmorningearly,wewillringupJapp.Wewillaskhimtocomeround.WewillalsoringupMr.BryanMartin.Ithinkhewillbeabletotellussomethinginteresting.Also,IwishtopayhimadebtthatIowehim.”
“Really?”
IlookedatPoirotsideways.Hewassmilingtohimselfinacuriousway.
“Atanyrate,”Isaid,“youcan’tsuspecthimofkillingLordEdgware.Especiallyafterwhatwe’veheardoftonight.ThatwouldbeplayingJane’sgamewithavengeance.Tokilloffthehusbandsoastolettheladymarrysomeoneelseisalittletoodisinterestedforanyman.”
“Whatprofoundjudgement!”
“Nowdon’tbesarcastic,”Isaidwithsomeannoyance.“Andwhatonearthareyoufiddlingwithallthetime?”
Poirotheldtheobjectinquestionup.
“Withthepince-nezofthegoodEllis,myfriend.Sheleftthembehind.”
“Nonsense!Shehadthemonhernosewhenshewentout.”
Heshookhisheadgently.
“Wrong!Absolutelywrong!Whatshehadon,mydearHastings,werethepairofpince-nezwefoundinCarlottaAdams’handbag.”
Igasped.
Twenty-nine
POIROTSPEAKS
ItfelltometoringupInspectorJappthefollowingmorning.
Hisvoicesoundedratherdepressed.
“Oh!it’syou,CaptainHastings.Well,what’sinthewindnow?”
IgavehimPoirot’smessage.
“Comeroundateleven?Well,IdaresayIcould.He’snotgotanythingtohelpusoveryoungRoss’sdeath,hashe?Idon’tmindconfessingthatwecoulddowithsomething.There’snotaclueofanykind.Mostmysteriousbusiness.”
“Ithinkhe’sgotsomethingforyou,”Isaidnoncommittally.“Heseemsverypleasedwithhimselfatallevents.”
“That’smorethanIam,Icantellyou.Allright,CaptainHastings.I’llbethere.”
MynexttaskwastoringupBryanMartin.TohimIsaidwhatIhadbeentoldtosay:ThatPoirothaddiscoveredsomethingratherinterestingwhichhethoughtMr.Martinwouldliketohear.Whenaskedwhatitwas,IsaidthatIhadnoidea.Poirothadnotconfidedinme.Therewasapause.
“Allright,”saidBryanatlast.“I’llcome.”
Herangoff.
Presently,somewhattomysurprise,PoirotrangupJennyDriverandaskedher,also,tobepresent.
Hewasquietandrathergrave.Iaskedhimnoquestions.
BryanMartinwasthefirsttoarrive.Helookedingoodhealthandspirits,but—oritmighthavebeenmyfancy—ashadeuneasy.JennyDriverarrivedalmostimmediatelyafterwards.SheseemedsurprisedtoseeBryanandheseemedtosharehersurprise.
Poirotbroughtforwardtwochairsandurgedthemtositdown.Heglancedathiswatch.
“InspectorJappwillbehereinonemoment,Iexpect.”
“InspectorJapp?”Bryanseemedstartled.
“Yes—Ihaveaskedhimtocomehere—informally—asafriend.”
“Isee.”
Herelapsedintosilence.Jennygaveaquickglanceathimthenglancedaway.Sheseemedratherpreoccupiedaboutsomethingthismorning.
AmomentlaterJappenteredtheroom.
Hewas,Ithink,atriflesurprisedtofindBryanMartinandJennyDriverthere,buthemadenosign.HegreetedPoirotwithhisusualjocularity.
“Well,M.Poirot,what’sitallabout?You’vegotsomewonderfultheoryorother,Isuppose.”
Poirotbeamedathim.
“No,no—nothingwonderful.Justalittlestoryquitesimple—sosimplethatIamashamednottohaveseenitatonce.Iwant,ifyoupermit,totakeyouwithmethroughthecasefromthebeginning.”
Jappsighedandlookedathiswatch.
“Ifyouwon’tbemorethananhour—”hesaid.
“Reassureyourself,”saidPoirot.“Itwillnottakeaslongasthat.Seehere,youwanttoknow,doyounot,whoitwaskilledLordEdgware,whoitwaskilledMissAdams,whoitwaskilledDonaldRoss?”
“I’dliketoknowthelast,”saidJappcautiously.
“Listentomeandyoushallknoweverything.See,Iamgoingtobehumble.”(Notlikely!Ithoughtunbelievingly.)“Iamgoingtoshowyoueverystepoftheway—IamgoingtorevealhowIwashoodwinked,howIdisplayedthegrossimbecility,howitneededtheconversationofmyfriendHastingsandachanceremarkbyatotalstrangertoputmeontherighttrack.”
Hepausedandthen,clearinghisthroat,hebegantospeakinwhatIcalledhis“lecture”voice.
“IwillbeginatthesupperpartyattheSavoy.LadyEdgwareaccostedmeandaskedforaprivateinterview.Shewantedtogetridofherhusband.Atthecloseofourinterviewshesaid—somewhatunwisely,Ithought—thatshemighthavetogoroundinataxiandkillhimherself.ThosewordswereheardbyMr.BryanMartin,whocameinatthatmoment.”
Hewheeledround.
“Eh?Thatisso,isitnot?”
“Weallheard,”saidtheactor.“TheWidburns,Marsh,Carlotta—allofus.”
“Oh!Iagree.Iagreeperfectly.Ehbien,IdidnothaveachancetoforgetthosewordsofLadyEdgware’s.Mr.BryanMartincalledonthefollowingmorningfortheexpresspurposeofdrivingthosewordshome.”
“Notatall,”criedBryanMartinangrily.“Icame—”
Poirotheldupahand.
“Youcame,ostensibly,totellmeacock-and-bullstoryaboutbeingshadowed.Atalethatachildmighthaveseenthrough.Youprobablytookitfromanout-of-datefilm.Agirlwhoseconsentyouhadtoobtain—amanwhomyourecognizedbyagoldtooth.Monami,noyoungmanwouldhaveagoldtooth—itisnotdoneinthesedays—andespeciallyinAmerica.Thegoldtoothitisahopelesslyold-fashionedpieceofdentistry.Oh!itwasallofapiece—absurd!Havingtoldyourcock-and-bullstoryyougetdowntotherealpurposeofyourvisit—topoisonmymindagainstLadyEdgware.Toputitclearly,youpreparethegroundforthemomentwhenshemurdersherhusband.”
“Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout,”mutteredBryanMartin.Hisfacewasdeathlypale.
“Youridiculetheideathathewillagreetoadivorce!YouthinkIamgoingtoseehimthefollowingday,butactuallytheappointmentischanged.Igotoseehimthatmorningandhedoesagreetoadivorce.AnymotiveforacrimeonLadyEdgware’spartisgone.Moreover,hetellsmethathehasalreadywrittentoLadyEdgwaretothateffect
“ButLadyEdgwaredeclaresthatshenevergotthatletter.Eithershelies,herhusbandlies,orsomebodyhassuppressedit—who?
“NowIaskmyselfwhydoesM.BryanMartingivehimselfthetroubletocomeandtellmealltheselies?Whatinnerpowerdriveshimon.AndIformtheidea,Monsieur,thatyouhavebeenfranticallyinlovewiththatlady.LordEdgwaresaysthathiswifetoldhimshewantedtomarryanactor.Well,supposingthatisso,butthattheladychangeshermind.BythetimeLordEdgware’sletteragreeingtothedivorcearrives,itissomeoneelseshewantstomarry—notyou!
“Inever—”
“Presentlyyoushallsayallyouwanttosay.Nowyouwillattendtome.
“What,then,wouldbeyourframeofmind—you,aspoiltidolwhohasneverknownarebuff?AsIseeit,akindofbaffledfury,adesiretodoLadyEdgwareasmuchharmaspossible.Andwhatgreaterharmcouldyoudoherthantohaveheraccused—perhapshanged—formurder.”
“Goodlord!”saidJapp.
Poirotturnedtohim.
“Butyes,thatwasthelittleideathatbegantoshapeitselfinmymind.Severalthingscametosupportit.CarlottaAdamshadtwoprincipalmenfriends—CaptainMarshandBryanMartin.Itwaspossible,then,thatBryanMartin,arichman,wastheonewhosuggestedthehoaxandofferedhertenthousanddollarstocarryitthrough.Ithasseemedto
“Ididn’t—Itellyou—”camehoarselyfromthefilmactor’slips.“WhenthesubstanceofMissAdams”lettertohersisterwaswiredfromWashington—oh!la,la!Iwasveryupset.Itseemedthatmyreasoningwaswhollywrong.ButlaterImadeadiscovery.Theactualletteritselfwassenttomeandinsteadofbeingcontinuous,asheetoftheletterwasmissing.So,‘he’mightrefertosomeonewhowasnotCaptainMarsh.
“Therewasonemorepieceofevidence.CaptainMarsh,whenhewasarrested,distinctlystatedthathethoughthesawBryanMartinenterthehouse.Comingfromanaccusedmanthatcarriednoweight.AlsoM.Martinhadanalibi.Thatnaturally!Itwastobeexpected.IfM.Martindidthemurder,tohaveanalibiwasabsolutelynecessary.
“Thatalibiwasvouchedforbyonepersononly—MissDriver.”
“Whataboutit?”saidthegirlsharply.
“Nothing,Mademoiselle,”saidPoirot,smiling.“ExceptthatthatsamedayInoticedyoulunchingwithM.MartinandthatyoupresentlytookthetroubletocomeoverandtrytomakemebelievethatyourfriendMissAdamswasspeciallyinterestedinRonaldMarsh—not,asIwassurewasthecase—inBryanMartin.”
“Notabitofit,”saidthefilmstarstoutly.
“Youmayhavebeenunawareofit,Monsieur,”saidPoirotquietly,“butIthinkitwastrue.Itexplains,asnothingelsecould,herfeelingofdisliketowardsLadyEdgware.Thatdislikewasonyourbehalf.Youhadtoldherallaboutyourrebuff,hadyounot?”
“Well—yes—IfeltImusttalktosomeoneandshe—”
“Wassympathetic.Yes,shewassympathetic,Inoticeditmyself.Ehbien,whathappensnext?RonaldMarsh,heisarrested.Immediatelyyourspiritsimprove.Anyanxietyyoumayhavehadisover.AlthoughyourplanhasmiscarriedowingtoLadyEdgware’schangeofmindaboutgoingtoapartyatthelastminute,yetsomebodyelsehasbecomethescapegoatandrelievedyouofallanxietyonyourownaccount.Andthen—ataluncheonparty—youhearDonaldRoss,thatpleasant,butratherstupidyoungman,saysomethingtoHastingsthatseemstoshowthatyouarenotsosafeafterall.”
“Itisn’ttrue,”theactorbawled.Theperspirationwasrunningdownhisface.Hiseyeslookedwildwithhorror.“ItellyouIheardnothing—nothing—Ididnothing.”
Then,Ithink,camethegreatestshockofthemorning.
“Thatisquitetrue,”saidPoirotquietly.“AndIhopeyouhavenowbeensufficientlypunishedforcomingtome—me,HerculePoirot,withacock-and-bullstory.”
Weallgasped.Poirotcontinueddreamily.
“Yousee—Iamshowingyouallmymistakes.TherewerefivequestionsIhadaskedmyself.Hastingsknowsthem.Theanswertothreeofthemfittedinverywell.Whohadsuppressedthatletter?ClearlyBryanMartinansweredthatquestionverywell.AnotherquestionwaswhathadinducedLordEdgwaresuddenlytochangehismindandagreetoadivorce?Well,Ihadanideaastothat.Eitherhewantedtomarryagain—butIcouldfindnoevidencepointingtothat—orelsesomekindofblackmailwasinvolved.LordEdgwarewasamanofpeculiartastes.Itwaspossiblethatfactsabouthimhadcometolightwhich,whilenotentitlinghiswifetoanEnglishdivorce,mightyetbeusedbyherasalevercoupledwiththethreatofpublicity.Ithinkthatiswhathappened.LordEdgwaredidnotwantanopenscandalattachedtohisname.Hegavein,thoughhisfuryathavingtodosowasexpressedinthemurderouslookonhisfacewhenhethoughthimselfunobserved.Italsoexplainsthesuspiciousquicknesswithwhichhesaid,‘Notbecauseofanythingintheletter,’beforeIhadevensuggestedthatthatmightbethecase.
“Twoquestionsremained.Thequestionofanoddpairofpince-nezinMissAdams’bagwhichdidnotbelongtoher.AndthequestionofwhyLadyEdgwarewasrunguponthetelephonewhilstshewasatdinneratChiswick.InnowaycouldIfitinM.BryanMartinwitheitherofthosequestions.
“SoIwasforcedtotheconclusionthateitherIwaswrongaboutMr.Martin,orwrongaboutthequestions.IndespairIonceagainreadthatletterofMissAdams’throughverycarefully.AndIfoundsomething!Yes,Ifoundsomething!
“Seeforyourselves.Hereitis.Youseethesheetistorn?Unevenly,asoftenhappens.Supposingnowthatbeforethe‘h’atthetoptherewasan‘s’…
“Ah!youhaveit!Yousee.Nothe—butshe!ItwasawomanwhosuggestedthishoaxtoCarlottaAdams.
“Well,Imadealistofallthewomenwhohadbeenevenremotelyconnectedwiththecase.BesidesJaneWilkinson,therewerefour—GeraldineMarsh,MissCarroll,MissDriverandtheDuchessofMerton.
“Ofthosefour,theonethatinterestedmemostwasMissCarroll.Sheworeglasses,shewasinthehousethatnight,shehadalreadybeeninaccurateinherevidenceowingtoherdesiretoincriminateLadyEdgware,andshewasalsoawomanofgreatefficiencyandnervewhocouldhavecarriedoutsuchacrime.Themotivewasmoreobscure—butafterall,shehadworkedwithLordEdgwaresomeyearsandsomemotivemightexistofwhichweweretotallyunaware.
“IalsofeltthatIcouldnotquitedismissGeraldineMarshfromthecase.Shehatedherfather—shehadtoldmeso.Shewasaneurotic,highly-strungtype.Supposewhenshewentintothehousethatnightshehaddeliberatelystabbedherfatherandthencoollyproceededupstairstofetchthepearls.Imagineheragonywhenshefoundthathercousinwhomsheloveddevotedlyhadnotremainedoutsideinthetaxibuthadenteredthehouse.
“Heragitatedmannercouldbewellexplainedontheselines.Itcouldequallywellbeexplainedbyherowninnocence,butbyherfearthathercousinreallyhaddonethecrime.Therewasanothersmallpoint.ThegoldboxfoundinMissAdams’baghadtheinitialDinit.IhadheardGeraldineaddressedbyhercousinas‘Dina.’Also,shewasinapensionnatinParislastNovemberandmightpossiblyhavemetCarlottaAdamsinParis.
“YoumaythinkitfantastictoaddtheDuchessofMertontothelist.ButshehadcalleduponmeandIrecognizedinherafanaticaltype.Theloveofherwholelifewascentredonherson,andshemighthaveworkedherselfuptocontriveaplottodestroythewomanwhowasabouttoruinherson’slife.
“ThentherewasMissJennyDriver—”
Hepaused,lookingatJenny.Shelookedbackathim,animpudentheadononeside.
“Andwhathaveyougotonme?”sheasked.
“Nothing,Mademoiselle,exceptthatyouwereafriendofBryanMartin’s—andthatyoursurnamebeginswithD.”
“That’snotverymuch.”
“There’sonethingmore.Youhavethebrainsandthenervetocommitsuchacrime.Idoubtifanyoneelsehad.”
Thegirllitacigarette.
“Continue,”shesaidcheerfully.
“WasM.Martin’salibigenuineorwasitnot?ThatwaswhatIhadtodecide.Ifitwas,whowasitRonaldMarshhadseengointothehouse?AndsuddenlyIrememberedsomething.Thegood-lookingbutleratRegentGateboreaverymarkedresemblancetoM.Martin.ItwashewhomCaptainMarshhadseen.AndIformedatheoryastothat.Itismyideathathediscoveredhismasterkilled.BesidehismasterwasanenvelopecontainingFrenchbanknotestothevalueofahundredpounds.Hetookthesenotes,slippedoutofthehouse,lefttheminsafekeepingwithsomerascallyfriendandreturned,lettinghimselfinwithLordEdgware’skey.Heletthecrimebediscoveredbythehousemaidonthefollowingmorning.Hefeltinnodangerhimself,ashewasquiteconvincedthatLadyEdgwarehaddonethemurder,andthenoteswereoutofthehouseandalreadychangedbeforetheirlosswasnoticed.However,whenLadyEdgwarehadanalibiandScotlandYardbeganinvestigatinghisantecedents,hegotthewindupanddecamped.”
Jappnoddedapprovingly.
“Istillhavethequestionofthepince-neztosettle.IfMissCarrollwastheownerthenthecaseseemedsettled.Shecouldhavesuppressedtheletter,andinarrangingdetailswithCarlottaAdams,orinmeetingherontheeveningofthemurder,thepince-nezmighthaveinadvertentlyfoundtheirwayintoCarlottaAdams’bag.
“Butthepince-nezwereapparentlynothingtodowithMissCarroll.IwaswalkinghomewithHastingshere,somewhatdepressed,tryingtoarrangethingsinmymindwithorderandmethod.Andthenthemiraclehappened!
“FirstHastingsspokeofthingsinacertainorder.HementionedDonaldRosshavingbeenoneofthirteenattableatSirMontaguCorner’sandhavingbeenthefirsttogetup.Iwasfollowingoutatrainofthoughtofmyownanddidnotpaymuchattention.Itjustflashedthroughmymindthat,strictlyspeaking,thatwasnottrue.Hemayhavegotupfirstattheendofthedinner,butactuallyLadyEdgwarehadbeenthefirsttogetupsinceshewascalledtothetelephone.Thinkingofher,acertainriddleoccurredtome—ariddlethatIfanciedaccordedwellwithhersomewhatchildishmentality.ItoldittoHastings.Hewas,likeQueenVictoria,notamused.InextfelltowonderingwhoIcouldaskfordetailsaboutM.Martin’sfeelingforJaneWilkinson.Sheherselfwouldnottellme,Iknew.Andthenapasserby,aswewereallcrossingtheroad,utteredasimplesentence.
“Hesaidtohisgirlcompanionthatsomebodyorother‘shouldhaveaskedEllis.’Andimmediatelythewholethingcametomeinaflash!”
Helookedround.
“Yes,yes,thepince-nez,thetelephonecall,theshortwomanwhocalledforthegoldboxinParis.Ellis,ofcourse,JaneWilkinson’smaid.Ifollowedeverystepofit—thecandles—thedimlight—Mrs.VanDusen—everything.Iknew!”
Thirty
THESTORY
Helookedroundatus.
“Come,myfriends,”hesaidgently.“Letmetellyoutherealstoryofwhathappenedthatnight.
“CarlottaAdamsleavesherflatatseveno’clock.FromthereshetakesataxiandgoestothePiccadillyPalace.”
“What?”Iexclaimed.
“TothePiccadillyPalace.EarlierinthedayshehastakenaroomthereasMrs.VanDusen.Shewearsapairofstrongglasseswhich,asweallknow,alterstheappearanceverymuch.AsIsay,shebooksaroom,sayingthatsheisgoingbythenightboattraintoLiverpoolandthatherluggagehasgoneon.AteightthirtyLadyEdgwarearrivesandasksforher.Sheisshownuptoherroom.Theretheychangeclothes.Dressedinafairwig,awhitetaffetadressanderminewrap,CarlottaAdamsandnotJaneWilkinsonleavesthehotelanddrivestoChiswick.Yes,yes,itisperfectlypossible.Ihavebeentothehouseintheevening.Thedinnertableislitonlywithcandles,thelampsaredim,noonethereknowsJaneWilkinsonverywell.Thereisthegoldenhair,thewell-knownhuskyvoiceandmanner.Oh!itwasquiteeasy.Andifithadnotbeensuccessful—ifsomeonehadspottedthefake—well,thatwasallarrangedfor,too.LadyEdgware,wearingadarkwig,Carlotta’sclothesandthepince-nez,paysherbill,hashersuitcaseputonataxianddrivestoEuston.Sheremovesthedarkwiginthelavatory,sheputshersuitcaseinthecloakroom.BeforegoingtoRegentGatesheringsupChiswickandaskstospeaktoLadyEdgware.Thishasbeenarrangedbetweenthem.IfallhasgonewellandCarlottahasnotbeenspotted,sheistoanswersimply—‘That’sright.’IneedhardlysayMissAdamswasignorantoftherealreasonforthetelephonecall.Havingheardthewords,LadyEdgwaregoesahead.ShegoestoRegentGate,asksforLordEdgware,proclaimsherindividuality,andgoesintothelibrary.Andcommitsthefirstmurder.OfcourseshedidnotknowthatMissCarrollwaswatchingherfromabove.Asfarassheisawareitwillbethebutler’sword(andhehasneverseenher,remember—andalsoshewearsahatwhichshieldsherfromhisgaze)againstthewordoftwelvewell-knownanddistinguishedpeople.
“Sheleavesthehouse,returnstoEuston,changesfromfairtodarkagainandpicksuphersuitcase.ShehasnowtoputintimetillCarlottaAdamsreturnsfromChiswick.Theyhaveagreedastotheapproximatetime.ShegoestotheCornerHouse,occasionallyglancingatherwatch,forthetimepassesslowly.Thenshepreparesforthesecondmurder.SheputsthesmallgoldboxshehasorderedfromParisinCarlottaAdams’bagwhich,ofcourse,sheiscarrying.Perhapsitisthenshefindstheletter.Perhapsitwasearlier.Anyway,assoonassheseestheaddress,shescentsdanger.Sheopensit—hersuspicionsarejustified.
“Perhapsherfirstimpulseistodestroytheletteraltogether.Butshesoonseesabetterway.ByremovingonepageoftheletteritreadslikeanaccusationofRonaldMarsh—amanwhohadapowerfulmotiveforthecrime.EvenifRonaldhasanalibi,itwillstillreadasanaccusationofamansolongasshetearsoffthesof‘she.’Sothatiswhatshedoes.Thenreplacesitintheenvelopeandtheenvelopebackinthebag.
“Then,thetimehavingcome,shewalksinthedirectionoftheSavoyHotel.Assoonassheseesthecarpass,with(presumably)herselfinside,shequickensherpace,entersatthesametimeandgoesstraightupthestairs.Sheisinconspicuouslydressedinblack.Itisunlikelythatanyonewillnoticeher.
“Upstairsshegoestoherroom.CarlottaAdamshasjustreachedit.Themaidhasbeentoldtogotobed—aperfectlyusualproceeding.Theyagainchangeclothesandthen,Ifancy,LadyEdgwaresuggestsalittledrink—tocelebrate.Inthatdrinkistheveronal.Shecongratulateshervictim,saysshewillsendherthechequetomorrow.CarlottaAdamsgoeshome.Sheisverysleepy—triestoringupafriend—possiblyM.MartinorCaptainMarsh,forbothhaveVictorianumbers—butgivesitup.Sheistootried.Theveronalisbeginningtowork.Shegoestobed—andsheneverwakesagain.Thesecondcrimehasbeencarriedthroughsuccessfully.
“Nowforthethirdcrime.Itisataluncheonparty.SirMontaguCornermakesareferencetoaconversationhehadwithLadyEdgwareonthenightofthemurder.Thatiseasy.ButNemesiscomesuponherlater.Thereisamentionofthe‘judgementofParis’andshetakesParistobetheonlyParissheknows—theParisoffashionandfrills!
“ButoppositeherissittingayoungmanwhowasatthedinneratChiswick—ayoungmanwhoheardtheLadyEdgwareofthatnightdiscussingHomerandGreekcivilizationgenerally.CarlottaAdamswasaculturedwell-readgirl.Hecannotunderstand.Hestares.Andsuddenlyitcomestohim.Thisisnotthesamewoman.Heisterriblyupset.Heisnotsureofhimself.Hemusthaveadvice.Hethinksofme.HespeakstoHastings.
“Buttheladyoverheardhim.Sheisquickenoughandshrewdenoughtorealizethatinsomewayorothershehasgivenherselfaway.SheheardHastingssaythatIwillnotbeintillfive.AttwentytofiveshegoestoRoss’smaisonette.Heopensthedoor,isverysurprisedtoseeher,butitdoesnotoccurtohimtobeafraid.Astrongable-bodied
Therewasasilence.ThenJappspokehoarsely.
“Youmean—shediditallthetime?”
Poirotbowedhishead.
“Butwhy,ifhewaswillingtogiveheradivorce?”
“BecausetheDukeofMertonisapillaroftheAnglo-Catholics.Becausehewouldnotdreamofmarryingawomanwhosehusbandwasalive.Heisayoungmanoffanaticalprinciples.Asawidow,shewasprettycertaintobeabletomarryhim.Doubtlessshehadtentativelysuggesteddivorce,buthehadnotrisentothebait.”
“ThenwhysendyoutoLordEdgware?”
“Ah!parbleu!”Poirot,fromhavingbeenverycorrectandEnglish,suddenlyrelapsedintohisnaturalself.“Topullthecotton-woolovermyeyes!Tomakemeawitnesstothefactthattherewasnotmotiveforthemurder!Yes,shedaredtomakeme,HerculePoirot,hercat’s-paw!Mafoi,shesucceeded,too!Oh,thatstrangebrain,childlikeandcunning.Shecanact!Howwellsheactedsurpriseatbeingtoldoftheletterherhusbandhadwrittenherwhichshesworeshehadneverreceived.Didshefeeltheslightestpangofremorseforanyofherthreecrimes?Icanswearshedidnot.”
“Itoldyouwhatshewaslike,”criedBryanMartin.“Itoldyou.Iknewshewasgoingtokillhim.Ifeltit.AndIwasafraidthatsomehowshe’dgetawaywithit.She’sclever—devilishcleverinakindofhalf-witway.AndIwantedhertosuffer.Iwantedhertosuffer.Iwantedhertohangforit.”
Hisfacewasscarlet.Hisvoicecamethickly.
“Now,now,”saidJennyDriver.
ShespokeexactlyasIhaveheardnursemaidsspeaktoasmallchildinthepark.
“AndthegoldboxwiththeinitialD,andParisNovemberinside?”saidJapp.
“SheorderedthatbyletterandsentEllis,hermaid,tofetchit.NaturallyEllisjustcalledforaparcelwhichshepaidfor.Shehadnoideawhatwasinside.Also,LadyEdgwareborrowedapairofEllis’spince-neztohelpintheVanDusenimpersonation.SheforgotaboutthemandlefttheminCarlottaAdams’handbag—heronemistake.
“Oh!itcametome—itallcametomeasIstoodinthemiddleoftheroad.Itwasnotpolitewhatthebusdriversaidtome,butitwasworthit.Ellis!Ellis’spince-nez.ElliscallingfortheboxinParis.EllisandthereforeJaneWilkinson.VerypossiblysheborrowedsomethingelsefromEllisbesidesdespince-nez.”
“What?”
“Acornknife….”
Ishivered.
Therewasamomentarysilence.
ThenJappsaidwithastrangerelianceintheanswer.
“M.Poirot.Isthistrue?”
“Itistrue,monami.”
ThenBryanMartinspoke,andhiswordswere,Ithought,verytypicalofhim.
“Butlookhere,”hesaidpeevishly.“Whataboutme?Whybringmeheretoday?Whynearlyfrightenmetodeath?”
Poirotlookedathimcoldly.
“Topunishyou,Monsieur,forbeingimpertinent!HowdareyoutryandmakethegameswithHerculePoirot?”
AndthenJennyDriverlaughed.Shelaughedandlaughed.
“Serveyouright,Bryan,”shesaidatlast.
SheturnedtoPoirot.
“I’mgladasIcanbethatitwasn’tRonnieMarsh,”shesaid.“I’vealwayslikedhim.AndI’mglad,glad,gladthatCarlotta’sdeathwon’tgounpunished!AsforBryanhere,wellI’lltellyousomething,M.Poirot.I’mgoingtomarryhim.AndifhethinkshecangetdivorcedandmarriedeverytwoorthreeyearsintheapprovedHollywoodfashion,well,henevermadeabiggermistakeinhislife.He’sgoingtomarryandsticktome.”
Poirotlookedather—lookedatherdeterminedchin—andatherflaminghair.
“Itisverypossible,Mademoiselle,”hesaid,“thatthatmaybeso.Isaidthatyouhadsufficientnerveforanything.Eventomarryafilm‘star.’”
Thirty-one
AHUMANDOCUMENT
AdayortwoafterthatIwassuddenlyrecalledtotheArgentine.SoithappenedthatIneversawJaneWilkinsonagainandonlyreadinthepaperofhertrialandcondemnation.Unexpectedly,atleastunexpectedlytome,shewentcompletelytopieceswhenchargedwiththetruth.Solongasshewasabletobeproudofherclevernessandactherpartshemadenomistakes,butonceherself-confidencefailedher,owingtosomeonehavingfoundherout,shewasasincapableasachildwouldbeofkeepingupadeception.Cross-examined,shewentcompletelytopieces.
So,asIsaidbefore,thatluncheonpartywasthelasttimeIsawJaneWilkinson.ButwhenIthinkofher,Ialwaysseeherthesameway—standinginherroomattheSavoytryingonexpensiveblackclotheswithaseriousabsorbedface.Iamconvincedthatthatwasnopose.Shewasbeingcompletelynatural.Herplanhadsucceededandthereforeshehadnofurtherqualmsanddoubts.NeitherdoIthinkthatsheeversufferedonepangofremorseforthethreecrimesshehadcommitted.
IreproducehereadocumentwhichshehaddirectedwastobesenttoPoirotafterherdeath.Itis,Ithink,typicalofthatverylovelyandcompletelyconsciencelesslady.
DearM.Poirot,IhavebeenthinkingthingsoverandIfeelthatIshouldliketowritethisforyou.Iknowthatyousometimespublishreportsofyourcases.Idon’treallythinkthatyou’veeverpublishedadocumentbythepersonthemselves.Ifeel,too,thatIwouldlikeeveryonetoknowjustexactlyhowIdiditall.Istillthinkitwasallverywell-planned.Ifithadn’tbeenforyoueverythingwouldhavebeenquiteallright.I’vefeltratherbitteraboutthat,butIsupposeyoucouldn’thelpit.I’msure,ifIsendyouthis,you’llgiveitplentyofprominence.Youwill,won’tyou?Ishouldliketoberemembered.AndIdothinkIamreallyauniqueperson.Everybodyhereseemstothinkso.ItbeganinAmericawhenIgottoknowMerton.IsawatoncethatifonlyIwereawidowhewouldmarryme.Unfortunately,hehasgotaqueersortofprejudiceagainstdivorce.Itriedtoovercomeitbutitwasnogood,andIhadtobecareful,becausehewasaverykinkysortofperson.Isoonrealizedthatmyhusbandsimplyhadgottodie,butIdidn’tknowhowtosetaboutit.YoucanimaginethingslikethateversomuchbetterintheStates.IthoughtandIthought—butIcouldn’tseehowtoarrangeit.Andthen,suddenly,IsawCarlottaAdamsdoherimitationofmeandatonceIbegantoseeaway.WithherhelpIcouldgetanalibi.ThatsameeveningIsawyou,anditsuddenlystruckmethatitwouldbeagoodideatosendyoutomyhusbandtoaskhimforadivorce.AtthesametimeIwouldgoabouttalkingofkillingmyhusband,becauseI’vealwaysnoticedthatifyouspeakthetruthinarathersillywaynobodybelievesyou.I’veoftendoneitovercontracts.Andit’salsoagoodthingtoseemstupiderthanyouare.AtmysecondmeetingwithCarlottaAdamsIbroachedtheidea.Isaiditwasabet,andshefellforitatonce.Shewastopretendtobemeatsomepartyandifshegotawaywithitshewastohavetenthousanddollars.Shewasveryenthusiasticandseveraloftheideaswerehers—aboutchangingclothesandallthat.Yousee,wecouldn’tdoitherebecauseofEllisandwecouldn’tdoitatherplacebecauseofhermaid.She,ofcourse,didn’tseewhywecouldn’t.Itwasalittleawkward.Ijustsaid“No.”Shethoughtmealittlestupidaboutit,butshegaveinandwethoughtofthehotelplan.ItookapairofEllis’spince-nez.OfcourseIrealizedquitesoonthatshewouldhavetobegotoutofthewaytoo.Itwasapity,butafterall,thoseimitationsofhersreallywereveryimpertinent.Ifminehadn’thappenedtosuitmeI’dhavebeenangryaboutit.Ihadsomeveronalmyself,thoughIhardlyevertakeit,sothatwasquiteeasy.AndthenIhadquiteabrainwave.Yousee,itwouldbesomuchbetterifitcouldseemthatshewasinthehabitoftakingit.Iorderedabox—theduplicateofoneI’dbeengivenandIhadherinitialsputonitandaninscriptioninside.IthoughtifIputsomeoddinitialandParis,November,insideit,itwouldmakeitallmuchmoredifficult.IwrotefortheboxfromtheRitzwhenIwasintherelunchingoneday.AndIsentEllisovertofetchit.Shedidn’tknowwhatitwas,ofcourse.Everythingwentoffquitewellonthenight.ItookoneofEllis’scornknives,whileshewasoverinParis,becauseitwasniceandsharp.ShenevernoticedbecauseIputitbackafterwards.ItwasadoctorinSanFranciscowhoshowedmejustwheretostickitin.He’dbeentalkingaboutlumbarandcisternpunctures,andhesaidonehadtobeverycareful,otherwiseonewentthroughthecistertiamagnaandintothemedullaoblongatawhereallthevitalnervecentresare,andthatthatwouldcauseimmediatedeath.Imadehimshowmetheexactplaceseveraltimes.Ithoughtitmightperhapscomeinusefuloneday.ItoldhimIwantedtousetheideainafilm.ItwasverydishonourableofCarlottaAdamstowritetohersister.She’dpromisedmetotellnobody.Idothinkitwascleverofmetoseewhatagoodthingitwouldbetotearoffthatonepageandleaveheinsteadofshe.Ithoughtofthatallbymyself.IthinkI’mmoreproudofthatthananythingelse.EveryonealwayssaysIhaven’tgotbrains—butIthinkitneededrealbrainstothinkofthat.I’dthoughtthingsoververycarefullyandIdidexactlywhatI’dplannedwhentheScotlandYardmancame.Iratherenjoyedthatpartofit.Ihadthought,perhaps,thathe’dreallyarrestme.Ifeltquitesafe,becausethey’dhavetobelieveallthosepeopleatthedinnerandIdidn’tseehowtheycouldfindoutaboutmeandCarlottachangingclothes.AfterthatIfeltsohappyandcontented.MyluckhadheldandIreallyfelteverythingwasgoingtogoright.TheoldDuchesswasbeastlytome,butMertonwassweet.Hewantedtomarrymeassoonaspossibleandhadn’ttheleastsuspicion.Idon’tthinkI’veeverbeensohappyasIwasthosefewweeks.Myhusband’snephewbeingarrestedmademefeeljustassafeasanything.AndIwasmoreproudofmyselfthaneverforhavingthoughtoftearingthatpageoutofCarlottaAdams’letter.TheDonaldRossbusinesswasjustsheerbadluck.I’mnotquitesurenowjusthowitwashespottedme.SomethingaboutParisbeingapersonandnotaplace.EvennowIdon’tknowwhoPariswas—andIthinkit’sasillynameforamananyway.It’scurioushow,whenluckstartsgoingagainstyou,itkeepsongoing.IhadtodosomethingaboutDonaldRossquickly,andthatdidgoallright.Itmightn’thave,becauseIhadn’ttimetobecleverorthinkofmakinganalibi.IdidthinkIwassafeafterthat.OfcourseEllistoldmeyouhadsentforherandquestionedher,butIgathereditwasallsomethingtodowithBryanMartin.Icouldn’tthinkwhatyouweredrivingat.Youdidn’taskherwhethershehadcalledfortheparcelinParis.IsupposeyouthoughtifsherepeatedthattomeIshouldsmellarat.Asitwas,itcameasacompletesurprise.Icouldn’tbelieveit.ItwasjustuncannythewayyouseemedtoknoweverythingI’ddone.Ijustfeltitwasnogood.Youcan’tfightagainstluck.Itwasbadluck,wasn’tit?Iwonderifyouareeversorryforwhatyoudid.Afterall,Ionlywantedtobehappyinmyownway.Andifithadn’tbeenformeyouwouldneverhavehadanythingtodowiththecase.Ineverthoughtyou’dbesohorriblyclever.Youdidn’tlookclever.It’sfunny,butIhaven’tlostmylooksabit.Inspiteofallthatdreadfultrialandthehorridthingsthatmanontheothersidesaidtome,andthewayhebatteredmewithquestions.Ilookmuchpalerandthinner,butitsuitsmesomehow.TheyallsayI’mwonderfullybrave.Theydon’thangyouinpublicanymore,dothey?Ithinkthat’sapity.I’msurethere’sneverbeenamurderesslikemebefore.IsupposeImustsaygood-byenow.It’sveryqueer.Idon’tseemtorealizethingsabit.I’mgoingtoseethechaplaintomorrow.Yoursforgivingly(becauseImustforgivemyenemies,mustn’tI?).JaneWilkinson.P.S.DoyouthinktheywillputmeinMadameTussauds?
TheAgathaChristieCollection
THEHERCULEPOIROTMYSTERIES
MatchyourwitswiththefamousBelgiandetective.
TheMysteriousAffairatStylesTheMurderontheLinksPoirotInvestigatesTheMurderofRogerAckroydTheBigFourTheMysteryoftheBlueTrainPerilatEndHouseLordEdgwareDiesMurderontheOrientExpressThreeActTragedyDeathintheCloudsTheA.B.C.MurdersMurderinMesopotamiaCardsontheTableMurderintheMewsDumbWitnessDeathontheNileAppointmentwithDeathHerculePoirot’sChristmasSadCypressOne,Two,BuckleMyShoeEvilUndertheSunFiveLittlePigsTheHollowTheLaborsofHerculesTakenattheFloodTheUnderdogandOtherStoriesMrs.McGinty’sDeadAftertheFuneralHickoryDickoryDockDeadMan’sFollyCatAmongthePigeonsTheClocksThirdGirlHallowe’enPartyElephantsCanRememberCurtain:Poirot’sLastCase
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TheAgathaChristieCollection
THEMISSMARPLEMYSTERIES
JointhelegendaryspinstersleuthfromSt.MaryMeadinsolvingmurdersfarandwide.
TheMurderattheVicaragTheBodyintheLibraryTheMovingFingerAMurderIsAnnouncedTheyDoItwithMirrorsAPocketFullofRye4:50FromPaddingtonTheMirrorCrack’dfromSidetoSideACaribbeanMysteryAtBertram’sHotelNemesisSleepingMurderMissMarple:TheCompleteShortStories
THETOMMYANDTUPPENCEMYSTERIES
Jumponboardwiththeentertainingcrime-solvingcouplefromYoungAdventurersLtd.
TheSecretAdversaryPartnersinCrimeNorM?BythePrickingofMyThumbsPosternofFate
Exploremoreatwww.AgathaChristie.com
TheAgathaChristieCollection
Don’tmissasingleoneofAgathaChristie’sstand-alonenovelsandshort-storycollections.
TheManintheBrownSuitTheSecretofChimneysTheSevenDialsMysteryTheMysteriousMr.QuinTheSittafordMysteryParkerPyneInvestigatesWhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?MurderIsEasyTheRegattaMysteryandOtherStoriesAndThenThereWereNoneTowardsZeroDeathComesastheEndSparklingCyanideTheWitnessfortheProsecutionandOtherStoriesCrookedHouseThreeBlindMiceandOtherStoriesTheyCametoBaghdadDestinationUnknownOrdealbyInnocenceDoubleSinandOtherStoriesThePaleHorseStaroverBethlehem:PoemsandHolidayStoriesEndlessNightPassengertoFrankfurtTheGoldenBallandOtherStoriesTheMousetrapandOtherPlaysTheHarlequinTeaSetExploremoreatwww.AgathaChristie.com
AbouttheAuthor
AgathaChristieisthemostwidelypublishedauthorofalltimeandinanylanguage,outsoldonlybytheBibleandShakespeare.HerbookshavesoldmorethanabillioncopiesinEnglishandanotherbillioninahundredforeignlanguages.Sheistheauthorofeightycrimenovelsandshort-storycollections,nineteenplays,twomemoirs,andsixnovelswrittenunderthenameMaryWestmacott.
ShefirsttriedherhandatdetectivefictionwhileworkinginahospitaldispensaryduringWorldWarI,creatingthenowlegendaryHerculePoirotwithherdebutnovelTheMysteriousAffairatStyles.WithTheMurderintheVicarage,publishedin1930,sheintroducedanotherbelovedsleuth,MissJaneMarple.Additionalseriescharactersincludethehusband-and-wifecrime-fightingteamofTommyandTuppenceBeresford,privateinvestigatorParkerPyne,andScotlandYarddetectivesSuperintendentBattleandInspectorJapp.
ManyofChristie’snovelsandshortstorieswereadaptedintoplays,films,andtelevisionseries.TheMousetrap,hermostfamousplayofall,openedin1952andisthelongest-runningplayinhistory.Amongherbest-knownfilmadaptationsareMurderontheOrientExpress(1974)andDeathontheNile(1978),withAlbertFinneyandPeterUstinovplayingHerculePoirot,respectively.OnthesmallscreenPoirothasbeenmostmemorablyportrayedbyDavidSuchet,andMissMarplebyJoanHicksonandsubsequentlyGeraldineMcEwanandJuliaMcKenzie.
ChristiewasfirstmarriedtoArchibaldChristieandthentoarchaeologistSirMaxMallowan,whomsheaccompaniedonexpeditionstocountriesthatwouldalsoserveasthesettingsformanyofhernovels.In1971sheachievedoneofBritain’shighesthonorswhenshewasmadeaDameoftheBritishEmpire.Shediedin1976attheageofeighty-five.Heronehundredandtwentiethanniversarywascelebratedaroundtheworldin2010.
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THEAGATHACHRISTIECOLLECTION
TheManintheBrownSuit
TheSecretofChimneys
TheSevenDialsMystery
TheMysteriousMr.Quin
TheSittafordMystery
ParkerPyneInvestigates
WhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?
MurderIsEasy
TheRegattaMysteryandOtherStories
AndThenThereWereNone
TowardsZero
DeathComesastheEnd
SparklingCyanide
TheWitnessfortheProsecutionandOtherStories
CrookedHouse
ThreeBlindMiceandOtherStories
TheyCametoBaghdad
DestinationUnknown
OrdealbyInnocence
DoubleSinandOtherStories
ThePaleHorse
StaroverBethlehem:PoemsandHolidayStories
EndlessNight
PassengertoFrankfurt
TheGoldenBallandOtherStories
TheMousetrapandOtherPlays
TheHarlequinTeaSet
TheHerculePoirotMysteries
TheMysteriousAffairatStyles
TheMurderontheLinks
PoirotInvestigates
TheMurderofRogerAckroyd
TheBigFour
TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain
PerilatEndHouse
LordEdgwareDies
MurderontheOrientExpress
ThreeActTragedy
DeathintheClouds
TheA.B.C.Murders
MurderinMesopotamia
CardsontheTable
MurderintheMews
DumbWitness
DeathontheNile
AppointmentwithDeath
HerculePoirot’sChristmas
SadCypress
One,Two,BuckleMyShoe
EvilUndertheSun
FiveLittlePigs
TheHollow
TheLaborsofHercules
TakenattheFlood
TheUnderdogandOtherStories
Mrs.McGinty’sDead
AftertheFuneral
HickoryDickoryDock
DeadMan’sFolly
CatAmongthePigeons
TheClocks
ThirdGirl
Hallowe’enParty
ElephantsCanRemember
Curtain:Poirot’sLastCase
TheMissMarpleMysteries
TheMurderattheVicarage
TheBodyintheLibrary
TheMovingFinger
AMurderIsAnnounced
TheyDoItwithMirrors
APocketFullofRye
4:50fromPaddington
TheMirrorCrack’dfromSidetoSide
ACaribbeanMystery
AtBertram’sHotel
Nemesis
SleepingMurder
MissMarple:TheCompleteShortStories
TheTommyandTuppenceMysteries
TheSecretAdversary
PartnersinCrime
NorM?
BythePrickingofMyThumbs
PosternofFate
Memoirs
AnAutobiography
Come,TellMeHowYouLive
Copyright
Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Thecharacters,incidents,anddialoguearedrawnfromtheauthor’simaginationandarenottobeconstruedasreal.Anyresemblancetoactualeventsorpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
ThistitlewaspreviouslypublishedasThirteenatDinner.
AGATHACHRISTIE?POIROT?LORDEDGWAREDIES?.Copyright?1933AgathaChristieLimited(aChorioncompany).Allrightsreserved.
LORDEDGWAREDIES?1933.PublishedbypermissionofG.P.Putnam’sSons,amemberofPenguinGroup(USA)Inc.Allrightsreserved.PrintedintheUnitedStatesofAmerica.Nopartofthisbookmaybeusedorreproducedinanymannerwhatsoeverwithoutwrittenpermissionexceptinthecaseofbriefquotationsembodiedincriticalarticlesandreviews.Forinformation,addressHarperCollinsPublishers,10East53rdStreet,NewYork,NY10022.
Formoreinformationabouteducationaluse,teachersshouldvisitwww.HarperAcademic.com.
FIRSTHARPERPAPERBACKPUBLISHED2011.
LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationDataisavailableuponrequest.
EPubEdition?AUGUST2011ISBN:978-0-06-174865-3
1112131415
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TableofContents
TitlePage
Dedication
Contents
1ATheatricalParty
2ASupperParty
3TheManwiththeGoldTooth
4AnInterview
5Murder
6TheWidow
7TheSecretary
8Possibilities
9TheSecondDeath
10JennyDriver
11TheEgoist
12TheDaughter
13TheNephew
14FiveQuestions
15SirMontaguCorner
16MainlyDiscussion
17TheButler
18TheOtherMan
19AGreatLady
20TheTaxiDriver
21Ronald’sStory
22StrangeBehaviourofHerculePoirot
23TheLetter
24NewsfromParis
25ALuncheonParty
26Paris?
27ConcerningPince-Nez
28PoirotAsksaFewQuestions
29PoirotSpeaks
30TheStory
31AHumanDocument
AbouttheAuthor
OtherBooksbyAgathaChristie
Copyright
AboutthePublisher
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