Murder in the Mews_ Four Cases of Hercul

MurderintheMews
FourCasesofHerculePoirot
Dedication
ToMyOldFriendSybilHeeleyWithaffection
Contents
TitlePage
Dedication
MurderintheMewsOneTwoThreeFourFiveSixSevenEightNineTenTheIncredibleTheftOneTwoThreeFourFiveSixSevenEightDeadMan’sMirrorOneTwoThreeFourFiveSixSevenEightNineTenElevenTwelveTriangleatRhodesOneTwoThreeFourFiveSix
AbouttheAuthors
OtherWorks
Copyright
MURDERINTHEMEWS
One
I
“Pennyfortheguy,sir?”
Asmallboywithagrimyfacegrinnedingratiatingly.
“Certainlynot!”saidChiefInspectorJapp.“And,lookhere,mylad—”
Ashorthomilyfollowed.Thedismayedurchinbeataprecipitateretreat,remarkingbrieflyandsuccinctlytohisyouthfulfriends:
“Blimey,ifitain’tacopalltoggedup!”
Thebandtooktoitsheels,chantingtheincantation:
Remember,rememberThefifthofNovemberGunpowdertreasonandplot.WeseenoreasonWhygunpowdertreasonShouldeverbeforgot.
Thechiefinspector’scompanion,asmall,elderlymanwithanegg-shapedheadandlarge,military-lookingmoustaches,wassmilingtohimself.
“Trèsbien,Japp,”heobserved.“Youpreachthesermonverywell!Icongratulateyou!”
“Rankexcuseforbegging,that’swhatGuyFawkes’Dayis!”saidJapp.
“Aninterestingsurvival,”musedHerculePoirot.“Thefireworksgoup—crack—crack—longafterthemantheycommemorateandhisdeedareforgotten.”
TheScotlandYardmanagreed.
“Don’tsupposemanyofthosekidsreallyknowwhoGuyFawkeswas.”
“Andsoon,doubtless,therewillbeconfusionofthought.IsitinhonourorinexecrationthatonthefifthofNovemberthefeud’artificearesentup?ToblowupanEnglishParliament,wasitasinoranobledeed?”
Jappchuckled.
“Somepeoplewouldsayundoubtedlythelatter.”
Turningoffthemainroad,thetwomenpassedintothecomparativequietofamews.TheyhadbeendiningtogetherandwerenowtakingashortcuttoHerculePoirot’sflat.
Astheywalkedalongthesoundofsquibswasstillheardperiodically.Anoccasionalshowerofgoldenrainilluminatedthesky.
“Goodnightforamurder,”remarkedJappwithprofessionalinterest.“Nobodywouldhearashot,forinstance,onanightlikethis.”
“Ithasalwaysseemedoddtomethatmorecriminalsdonottakeadvantageofthefact,”saidHerculePoirot.
“Doyouknow,Poirot,Ialmostwishsometimesthatyouwouldcommitamurder.”
“Moncher!”
“Yes,I’dliketoseejusthowyou’dsetaboutit.”
“MydearJapp,ifIcommittedamurderyouwouldnothavetheleastchanceofseeing—howIsetaboutit!Youwouldnotevenbeaware,probably,thatamurderhadbeencommitted.”
Japplaughedgood-humouredlyandaffectionately.
“Cockylittledevil,aren’tyou?”hesaidindulgently.
II
Athalfpasteleventhefollowingmorning,HerculePoirot’stelephonerang.
“’Allo?’Allo?”
“Hallo,thatyou,Poirot?”
“Oui,c’estmoi.”
“Jappspeakinghere.RememberwecamehomelastnightthroughBardsleyGardensMews?”
“Yes?”
“Andthatwetalkedabouthoweasyitwouldbetoshootapersonwithallthosesquibsandcrackersandtherestofitgoingoff?”
“Certainly.”
“Well,therewasasuicideinthatmews.No.14.Ayoungwidow—Mrs.Allen.I’mgoingroundtherenow.Liketocome?”
“Excuseme,butdoessomeoneofyoureminence,mydearfriend,usuallygetsenttoacaseofsuicide?”
“Sharpfellow.No—hedoesn’t.Asamatteroffactourdoctorseemstothinkthere’ssomethingfunnyaboutthis.Willyoucome?Ikindoffeelyououghttobeinonit.”
“CertainlyIwillcome.No.14,yousay?”
“That’sright.”
III
PoirotarrivedatNo.14BardsleyGardensMewsalmostatthesamemomentasacardrewupcontainingJappandthreeothermen.
No.14wasclearlymarkedoutasthecentreofinterest.Abigcircleofpeople,chauffeurs,theirwives,errandboys,loafers,well-dressedpassersbyandinnumerablechildrenweredrawnupallstaringatNo.14withopenmouthsandafascinatedstare.
Apoliceconstableinuniformstoodonthestepanddidhisbesttokeepbackthecurious.Alert-lookingyoungmenwithcameraswerebusyandsurgedforwardasJappalighted.
“Nothingforyounow,”saidJapp,brushingthemaside.HenoddedtoPoirot.“Sohereyouare.Let’sgetinside.”
Theypassedinquickly,thedoorshutbehindthemandtheyfoundthemselvessqueezedtogetheratthefootofaladderlikeflightofstairs.
Amancametothetopofthestaircase,recognizedJappandsaid:
“Uphere,sir.”
JappandPoirotmountedthestairs.
Themanatthestairheadopenedadoorontheleftandtheyfoundthemselvesinasmallbedroom.
“Thoughtyou’dlikemetorunoverthechiefpoints,sir.”
“Quiteright,Jameson,”saidJapp.“Whataboutit?”
DivisionalInspectorJamesontookupthetale.
“Deceased’saMrs.Allen,sir.Livedherewithafriend—aMissPlenderleith.MissPlenderleithwasawaystayinginthecountryandreturnedthismorning.Sheletherselfinwithherkey,wassurprisedtofindnooneabout.Awomanusuallycomesinatnineo’clocktodoforthem.Shewentupstairsfirstintoherownroom(that’sthisroom)thenacrossthelandingtoherfriend’sroom.Doorwaslockedontheinside.Sherattledthehandle,knockedandcalled,butcouldn’tgetanyanswer.Intheendgettingalarmedsherangupthepolicestation.Thatwasattenforty-five.Wecamealongatonceandforcedthedooropen.Mrs.Allenwaslyinginaheaponthegroundshotthroughthehead.Therewasanautomaticinherhand—aWebley.25—anditlookedaclearcaseofsuicide.”
“WhereisMissPlenderleithnow?”
“She’sdownstairsinthesittingroom,sir.Averycool,efficientyounglady,Ishouldsay.Gotaheadonher.”
“I’lltalktoherpresently.I’dbetterseeBrettnow.”
AccompaniedbyPoirothecrossedthelandingandenteredtheoppositeroom.Atall,elderlymanlookedupandnodded.
“Hallo,Japp,gladyou’vegothere.Funnybusiness,this.”
Jappadvancedtowardshim.HerculePoirotsentaquicksearchingglanceroundtheroom.
Itwasmuchlargerthantheroomtheyhadjustquitted.Ithadabuilt-outbaywindow,andwhereastheotherroomhadbeenabedroompureandsimple,thiswasemphaticallyabedroomdisguisedasasittingroom.
Thewallsweresilverandtheceilingemeraldgreen.Therewerecurtainsofamodernisticpatterninsilverandgreen.Therewasadivancoveredwithashimmeringemeraldgreensilkquiltandnumbersofgoldandsilvercushions.Therewasatallantiquewalnutbureau,awalnuttallboy,andseveralmodernchairsofgleamingchromium.Onalowglasstabletherewasabigashtrayfullofcigarettestubs.
DelicatelyHerculePoirotsniffedtheair.ThenhejoinedJappwherethelatterstoodlookingdownatthebody.
Inaheaponthefloor,lyingasshehadfallenfromoneofthechromiumchairs,wasthebodyofayoungwomanofperhapstwenty-seven.Shehadfairhairanddelicatefeatures.Therewasverylittlemakeupontheface.Itwasapretty,wistful,perhapsslightlystupidface.Ontheleftsideoftheheadwasamassofcongealedblood.Thefingersoftherighthandwereclaspedroundasmallpistol.Thewomanwasdressedinasimplefrockofdarkgreenhightotheneck.
“Well,Brett,what’sthetrouble?”
Jappwaslookingdownalsoatthehuddledfigure.
“Position’sallright,”saidthedoctor.“Ifsheshotherselfshe’dprobablyhaveslippedfromthechairintojustthatposition.Thedoorwaslockedandthewindowwasfastenedontheinside.”
“That’sallright,yousay.Thenwhat’swrong?”
“Takealookatthepistol.Ihaven’thandledit—waitingforthefingerprintmen.ButyoucanseequitewellwhatImean.”
TogetherPoirotandJappkneltdownandexaminedthepistolclosely.
“Iseewhatyoumean,”saidJapprising.“It’sinthecurveofherhand.Itlooksasthoughshe’sholdingit—butasamatteroffactsheisn’tholdingit.Anythingelse?”
“Plenty.She’sgotthepistolinherrighthand.Nowtakealookatthewound.Thepistolwasheldclosetotheheadjustabovetheleftear—theleftear,markyou.”
“H’m,”saidJapp.“Thatdoesseemtosettleit.Shecouldn’tholdapistolandfireitinthatpositionwithherrighthand?”
“Plumbimpossible,Ishouldsay.YoumightgetyourarmroundbutIdoubtifyoucouldfiretheshot.”
“Thatseemsprettyobviousthen.Someoneelseshotherandtriedtomakeitlooklikesuicide.Whataboutthelockeddoorandwindow,though?”
InspectorJamesonansweredthis.
“Windowwasclosedandbolted,sir,butalthoughthedoorwaslockedwehaven’tbeenabletofindthekey.”
Jappnodded.
“Yes,thatwasabadbreak.Whoeverdiditlockedthedoorwhenheleftandhopedtheabsenceofthekeywouldn’tbenoticed.”
Poirotmurmured:
“C’estbête,?a!”
“Oh,comenow,Poirot,oldman,youmustn’tjudgeeverybodyelsebythelightofyourshiningintellect!Asamatteroffactthat’sthesortoflittledetailthat’squiteapttobeoverlooked.Door’slocked.Peoplebreakin.Womanfounddead—pistolinherhand—clearcaseofsuicide—shelockedherselfintodoit.Theydon’tgohuntingaboutforkeys.Asamatteroffact,MissPlenderleith’ssendingforthepolicewaslucky.Shemighthavegotoneortwoofthechauffeurstocomeandburstinthedoor—andthenthekeyquestionwouldhavebeenoverlookedaltogether.”
“Yes,Isupposethatistrue,”saidHerculePoirot.“Itwouldhavebeenmanypeople’snaturalreaction.Thepolice,theyarethelastresource,aretheynot?”
Hewasstillstaringdownatthebody.
“Anythingstrikeyou?”Jappasked.
Thequestionwascarelessbuthiseyeswerekeenandattentive.
HerculePoirotshookhisheadslowly.
“Iwaslookingatherwristwatch.”
Hebentoverandjusttoucheditwithafingertip.Itwasadaintyjewelledaffaironablackmoiréstraponthewristofthehandthatheldthepistol.
“Ratheraswellpiecethat,”observedJapp.“Musthavecostmoney!”HecockedhisheadinquiringlyatPoirot.“Somethinginthatmaybe?”
“Itispossible—yes.”
Poirotstrayedacrosstothewritingbureau.Itwasthekindthathasafrontflapthatletsdown.Thiswasdaintilysetouttomatchthegeneralcolourscheme.
Therewasasomewhatmassivesilverinkstandinthecentre,infrontofitahandsomegreenlacquerblotter.Totheleftoftheblotterwasanemeraldglasspentraycontainingasilverpenholder—astickofgreensealingwax,apencilandtwostamps.Ontherightoftheblotterwasamovablecalendargivingthedayoftheweek,dateandmonth.Therewasalsoalittleglassjarofshotandstandinginitaflamboyantgreenquillpen.Poirotseemedinterestedinthepen.Hetookitoutandlookedatitbutthequillwasinnocentofink.Itwasclearlyadecoration—nothingmore.Thesilverpen-holderwiththeink-stainednibwastheoneinuse.Hiseyesstrayedtothecalendar.
“Tuesday,Novemberfifth,”saidJapp.“Yesterday.That’sallcorrect.”
HeturnedtoBrett.
“Howlonghasshebeendead?”
“Shewaskilledateleventhirty-threeyesterdayevening,”saidBrettpromptly.
ThenhegrinnedashesawJapp’ssurprisedface.
“Sorry,oldboy,”hesaid.“Hadtodothesuperdoctoroffiction!AsamatteroffactelevenisaboutasnearasIcanputit—withamarginofaboutanhoureitherway.”
“Oh,Ithoughtthewristwatchmighthavestopped—orsomething.”
“It’sstoppedallright,butit’sstoppedataquarterpastfour.”
“AndIsupposeshecouldn’thavebeenkilledpossiblyataquarterpastfour.”
“Youcanputthatrightoutofyourmind.”
Poirothadturnedbackthecoveroftheblotter.
“Goodidea,”saidJapp.“Butnoluck.”
Theblottershowedaninnocentwhitesheetofblottingpaper.Poirotturnedovertheleavesbuttheywereallthesame.
Heturnedhisattentiontothewastepaperbasket.
Itcontainedtwoorthreetorn-uplettersandcirculars.Theywereonlytornonceandwereeasilyreconstructed.Anappealformoneyfromsomesocietyforassistingex-servicemen,aninvitationtoacocktailpartyonNovember3rd,anappointmentwithadressmaker.Thecircularswereanannouncementofafurrier’ssaleandacataloguefromadepartmentstore.
“Nothingthere,”saidJapp.
“No,itisodd…”saidPoirot.
“Youmeantheyusuallyleavealetterwhenit’ssuicide?”
“Exactly.”
“Infact,onemoreproofthatitisn’tsuicide.”
Hemovedaway.
“I’llhavemymengettoworknow.We’dbettergodownandinterviewthisMissPlenderleith.Coming,Poirot?”
Poirotstillseemedfascinatedbythewritingbureauanditsappointments.
Helefttheroom,butatthedoorhiseyeswentbackoncemoretotheflauntingemeraldquillpen.
Two
Atthefootofthenarrowflightofstairsadoorgaveadmissiontoalarge-sizedlivingroom—actuallytheconvertedstable.Inthisroom,thewallsofwhichwerefinishedinaroughenedplastereffectandonwhichhungetchingsandwoodcuts,twopeopleweresitting.
One,inachairnearthefireplace,herhandstretchedouttotheblaze,wasadarkefficient-lookingyoungwomanoftwenty-sevenoreight.Theother,anelderlywomanofampleproportionswhocarriedastringbag,waspantingandtalkingwhenthetwomenenteredtheroom.
“—andasIsaid,Miss,suchaturnitgavemeInearlydroppeddownwhereIstood.Andtothinkthatthismorningofallmornings—”
Theothercuthershort.
“Thatwilldo,Mrs.Pierce.Thesegentlemenarepoliceofficers,Ithink.”
“MissPlenderleith?”askedJapp,advancing.
Thegirlnodded.
“Thatismyname.ThisisMrs.Piercewhocomesintoworkforuseveryday.”
TheirrepressibleMrs.Piercebrokeoutagain.
“AndasIwassayingtoMissPlenderleith,tothinkthatthismorningofallmornings,mysister’sLouisaMaudshouldhavebeentookwithafitandmetheonlyonehandyandasIsayfleshandbloodisfleshandblood,andIdidn’tthinkMrs.Allenwouldmind,thoughIneverlikestodisappointmyladies—”
Jappbrokeinwithsomedexterity.
“Quiteso,Mrs.Pierce.NowperhapsyouwouldtakeInspectorJamesonintothekitchenandgivehimabriefstatement.”
HavingthengotridofthevolubleMrs.Pierce,whodepartedwithJamesontalkingthirteentothedozen,Jappturnedhisattentiononcemoretothegirl.
“IamChiefInspectorJapp.Now,MissPlenderleith,Ishouldliketoknowallyoucantellmeaboutthisbusiness.”
“Certainly.WhereshallIbegin?”
Herself-possessionwasadmirable.Therewerenosignsofgrieforshocksaveforanalmostunnaturalrigidityofmanner.
“Youarrivedthismorningatwhattime?”
“Ithinkitwasjustbeforehalfpastten.Mrs.Pierce,theoldliar,wasn’there,Ifound—”
“Isthatafrequentoccurrence?”
JanePlenderleithshruggedhershoulders.
“Abouttwiceaweeksheturnsupattwelve—ornotatall.She’ssupposedtocomeatnine.Actually,asIsay,twiceaweeksheeither‘comesoverqueer,’orelsesomememberofherfamilyisovertakenbysickness.Allthesedailywomenarelikethat—failyounowandagain.She’snotbadastheygo.”
“You’vehadherlong?”
“Justoveramonth.Ourlastonepinchedthings.”
“Pleasegoon,MissPlenderleith.”
“Ipaidoffthetaxi,carriedinmysuitcase,lookedroundforMrs.P.,couldn’tseeherandwentupstairstomyroom.ItidiedupabitthenIwentacrosstoBarbara—Mrs.Allen—andfoundthedoorlocked.Irattledthehandleandknockedbutcouldgetnoreply.Icamedownstairsandrangupthepolicestation.”
“Pardon!”Poirotinterposedaquick,deftquestion.“Itdidnotoccurtoyoutotryandbreakdownthedoor—withthehelpofoneofthechauffeursinthemews,say?”
Hereyesturnedtohim—cool,grey-greeneyes.Herglanceseemedtosweepoverhimquicklyandappraisingly.
“No,Idon’tthinkIthoughtofthat.Ifanythingwaswrong,itseemedtomethatthepolicewerethepeopletosendfor.”
“Thenyouthought—pardon,mademoiselle—thattherewassomethingwrong?”
“Naturally.”
“Becauseyoucouldnotgetareplytoyourknocks?Butpossiblyyourfriendmighthavetakenasleepingdraughtorsomethingofthatkind—”
“Shedidn’ttakesleepingdraughts.”
Thereplycamesharply.
“Orshemighthavegoneawayandlockedherdoorbeforegoing?”
“Whyshouldshelockit?Inanycaseshewouldhaveleftanoteforme.”
“Andshedidnot—leaveanoteforyou?Youarequitesureofthat?”
“OfcourseIamsureofit.Ishouldhaveseenitatonce.”
Thesharpnessofhertonewasaccentuated.
Jappsaid:
“Youdidn’ttryandlookthroughthekeyhole,MissPlenderleith?”
“No,”saidJanePlenderleiththoughtfully.“Ineverthoughtofthat.ButIcouldn’thaveseenanything,couldI?Becausethekeywouldhavebeeninit?”
Herinquiringgaze,innocent,wide-eyed,metJapp’s.Poirotsmiledsuddenlytohimself.
“Youdidquiteright,ofcourse,MissPlenderleith,”saidJapp.“Isupposeyou’dnoreasontobelievethatyourfriendwaslikelytocommitsuicide?”
“Oh,no.”
“Shehadn’tseemedworried—ordistressedinanyway?”
Therewasapause—anappreciablepausebeforethegirlanswered.
“No.”
“Didyouknowshehadapistol?”
JanePlenderleithnodded.
“Yes,shehaditoutinIndia.Shealwayskeptitinadrawerinherroom.”
“H’m.Gotalicenceforit?”
“Iimagineso.Idon’tknowforcertain.”
“Now,MissPlenderleith,willyoutellmeallyoucanaboutMrs.Allen,howlongyou’veknownher,whereherrelationsare—everythinginfact.”
JanePlenderleithnodded.
“I’veknownBarbaraaboutfiveyears.Imetherfirsttravellingabroad—inEgypttobeexact.ShewasonherwayhomefromIndia.I’dbeenattheBritishSchoolinAthensforabitandwashavingafewweeksinEgyptbeforegoinghome.WewereonaNilecruisetogether.Wemadefriends,decidedwelikedeachother.Iwaslookingatthetimeforsomeonetoshareaflatoratinyhousewithme.Barbarawasaloneintheworld.Wethoughtwe’dgetonwelltogether.”
“Andyoudidgetonwelltogether?”askedPoirot.
“Verywell.Weeachhadourownfriends—Barbarawasmoresocialinherlikings—myfriendsweremoreoftheartistickind.Itprobablyworkedbetterthatway.”
Poirotnodded.Jappwenton:
“WhatdoyouknowaboutMrs.Allen’sfamilyandherlifebeforeshemetyou?”
JanePlenderleithshruggedhershoulders.
“Notverymuchreally.HermaidennamewasArmitage,Ibelieve.”
“Herhusband?”
“Idon’tfancythathewasanythingtowritehomeabout.Hedrank,Ithink.Igatherhediedayearortwoafterthemarriage.Therewasonechild,alittlegirl,whichdiedwhenitwasthreeyearsold.Barbaradidn’ttalkmuchaboutherhusband.IbelieveshemarriedhiminIndiawhenshewasaboutseventeen.ThentheywentofftoBorneooroneofthegodforsakenspotsyousendne’er-do-wellsto—butasitwasobviouslyapainfulsubjectIdidn’trefertoit.”
“DoyouknowifMrs.Allenwasinanyfinancialdifficulties?”
“No,I’msureshewasn’t.”
“Notindebt—anythingofthatkind?”
“Oh,no!I’msureshewasn’tinthatkindofajam.”
“Nowthere’sanotherquestionImustask—andIhopeyouwon’tbeupsetaboutit,MissPlenderleith.HadMrs.Allenanyparticularmanfriendormenfriends?”
JanePlenderleithansweredcoolly:
“Well,shewasengagedtobemarriedifthatanswersyourquestion.”
“Whatisthenameofthemanshewasengagedto?”
“CharlesLaverton-West.He’sM.P.forsomeplaceinHampshire.”
“Hadsheknownhimlong?”
“Alittleoverayear.”
“Andshehasbeenengagedtohim—howlong?”
“Two—no—nearerthreemonths.”
“Asfarasyouknowtherehasnotbeenanyquarrel?”
MissPlenderleithshookherhead.
“No.Ishouldhavebeensurprisediftherehadbeenanythingofthatsort.Barbarawasn’tthequarrellingkind.”
“HowlongisitsinceyoulastsawMrs.Allen?”
“Fridaylast,justbeforeIwentawayfortheweekend.”
“Mrs.Allenwasremainingintown?”
“Yes.ShewasgoingoutwithherfiancéontheSunday,Ibelieve.”
“Andyouyourself,wheredidyouspendtheweekend?”
“AtLaidellsHall,Laidells,Essex.”
“Andthenameofthepeoplewithwhomyouwerestaying?”
“Mr.andMrs.Bentinck.”
“Youonlyleftthemthismorning?”
“Yes.”
“Youmusthaveleftveryearly?”
“Mr.Bentinckmotoredmeup.Hestartsearlybecausehehastogettothecitybyten.”
“Isee.”
Jappnoddedcomprehendingly.MissPlenderleith’sreplieshadallbeencrispandconvincing.
Poirotinhisturnputaquestion.
“WhatisyourownopinionofMr.Laverton-West?”
Thegirlshruggedhershoulders.
“Doesthatmatter?”
“No,itdoesnotmatter,perhaps,butIshouldliketohaveyouropinion.”
“Idon’tknowthatI’vethoughtabouthimonewayortheother.He’syoung—notmorethanthirty-oneortwo—ambitious—agoodpublicspeaker—meanstogetonintheworld.”
“Thatisonthecreditside—andonthedebit?”
“Well,”MissPlenderleithconsideredforamomentortwo.“Inmyopinionhe’scommonplace—hisideasarenotparticularlyoriginal—andhe’sslightlypompous.”
“Thosearenotveryseriousfaults,mademoiselle,”saidPoirot,smiling.
“Don’tyouthinkso?”
Hertonewasslightlyironic.
“Theymightbetoyou.”
Hewaswatchingher,sawherlookalittledisconcerted.Hepursuedhisadvantage.
“ButtoMrs.Allen—no,shewouldnotnoticethem.”
“You’reperfectlyright.Barbarathoughthewaswonderful—tookhimentirelyathisownvaluation.”
Poirotsaidgently:
“Youwerefondofyourfriend?”
Hesawthehandclenchonherknee,thetighteningofthelineofthejaw,yettheanswercameinamatter-of-factvoicefreefromemotion.
“Youarequiteright.Iwas.”
Jappsaid:
“Justoneotherthing,MissPlenderleith.Youandshedidn’thaveaquarrel?Therewasnoupsetbetweenyou?”
“Nonewhatever.”
“Notoverthisengagementbusiness?”
“Certainlynot.Iwasgladshewasabletobesohappyaboutit.”
Therewasamomentarypause,thenJappsaid:
“Asfarasyouknow,didMrs.Allenhaveanyenemies?”
ThistimetherewasadefiniteintervalbeforeJanePlenderleithreplied.Whenshedidso,hertonehadalteredveryslightly.
“Idon’tknowquitewhatyoumeanbyenemies?”
“Anyone,forinstance,whowouldprofitbyherdeath?”
“Oh,no,thatwouldberidiculous.Shehadaverysmallincomeanyway.”
“Andwhoinheritsthatincome?”
JamePlenderleith’svoicesoundedmildlysurprisedasshesaid:
“Doyouknow,Ireallydon’tknow.Ishouldn’tbesurprisedifIdid.Thatis,ifsheevermadeawill.”
“Andnoenemiesinanyothersense?”Jappslidofftoanotheraspectquickly.“Peoplewithagrudgeagainsther?”
“Idon’tthinkanyonehadagrudgeagainsther.Shewasaverygentlecreature,alwaysanxioustoplease.Shehadareallysweet,lovablenature.”
Forthefirsttimethathard,matter-of-factvoicebrokealittle.Poirotnoddedgently.
Jappsaid:
“Soitamountstothis—Mrs.Allenhasbeeningoodspiritslately,shewasn’tinanyfinancialdifficulty,shewasengagedtobemarriedandwashappyinherengagement.Therewasnothingintheworldtomakehercommitsuicide.That’sright,isn’tit?”
TherewasamomentarysilencebeforeJanesaid:
“Yes.”
Japprose.
“Excuseme,ImusthaveawordwithInspectorJameson.”
Helefttheroom.
HerculePoirotremainedtêteàtêtewithJanePlenderleith.
Three
Forafewminutestherewassilence.
JanePlenderleithshotaswiftappraisingglanceatthelittleman,butafterthatshestaredinfrontofheranddidnotspeak.Yetaconsciousnessofhispresenceshoweditselfinacertainnervoustension.Herbodywasstillbutnotrelaxed.WhenatlastPoirotdidbreakthesilencethemeresoundofhisvoiceseemedtogiveheracertainrelief.Inanagreeableeverydayvoiceheaskedaquestion.
“Whendidyoulightthefire,mademoiselle?”
“Thefire?”Hervoicesoundedvagueandratherabsentminded.“Oh,assoonasIarrivedthismorning.”
“Beforeyouwentupstairsorafterwards?”
“Before.”
“Isee.Yes,naturally…Anditwasalreadylaid—ordidyouhavetolayit?”
“Itwaslaid.Ionlyhadtoputamatchtoit.”
Therewasaslightimpatienceinhervoice.Clearlyshesuspectedhimofmakingconversation.Possiblythatwaswhathewasdoing.Atanyratehewentoninquietconversationaltones.
“Butyourfriend—inherroomInoticedtherewasagasfireonly?”
JanePlenderleithansweredmechanically
“Thisistheonlycoalfirewehave—theothersareallgasfires.”
“Andyoucookwithgas,too?”
“Ithinkeveryonedoesnowadays.”
“True.Itismuchlaboursaving.”
Thelittleinterchangedieddown.JanePlenderleithtappedonthegroundwithhershoe.Thenshesaidabruptly:
“Thatman—ChiefInspectorJapp—isheconsideredclever?”
“Heisverysound.Yes,heiswellthoughtof.Heworkshardandpainstakinglyandverylittleescapeshim.”
“Iwonder—”mutteredthegirl.
Poirotwatchedher.Hiseyeslookedverygreeninthefirelight.Heaskedquietly:
“Itwasagreatshocktoyou,yourfriend’sdeath?”
“Terrible.”
Shespokewithabruptsincerity.
“Youdidnotexpectit—no?”
“Ofcoursenot.”
“Sothatitseemedtoyouatfirst,perhaps,thatitwasimpossible—thatitcouldnotbe?”
ThequietsympathyofhistoneseemedtobreakdownJanePlenderleith’sdefences.Sherepliedeagerly,naturally,withoutstiffness.
“That’sjustit.EvenifBarbaradidkillherself,Ican’timagineherkillingherselfthatway.”
“Yetshehadapistol?”
JanePlenderleithmadeanimpatientgesture.
“Yes,butthatpistolwasa—oh!ahangover.She’dbeeninout-of-the-wayplaces.Shekeptitoutofhabit—notwithanyotheridea.I’msureofthat.”
“Ah!andwhyareyousureofthat?”
“Oh,becauseofthethingsshesaid.”
“Suchas—?”
Hisvoicewasverygentleandfriendly.Itledheronsubtly.
“Well,forinstance,wewerediscussingsuicideonceandshesaidmuchtheeasiestwaywouldbetoturnthegasonandstuffupallthecracksandjustgotobed.IsaidIthoughtthatwouldbeimpossible—tolietherewaiting.IsaidI’dfarrathershootmyself.Andshesaidno,shecouldnevershootherself.She’dbetoofrightenedincaseitdidn’tcomeoffandanywayshesaidshe’dhatethebang.”
“Isee,”saidPoirot.“Asyousay,itisodd…Because,asyouhavejusttoldme,therewasagasfireinherroom.”
JanePlenderleithlookedathim,slightlystartled.
“Yes,therewas…Ican’tunderstand—no,Ican’tunderstandwhyshedidn’tdoitthatway.”
Poirotshookhishead.
“Yes,itseems—odd—notnaturalsomehow.”
“Thewholethingdoesn’tseemnatural.Istillcan’tbelieveshekilledherself.Isupposeitmustbesuicide?”
“Well,thereisoneotherpossibility.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
Poirotlookedstraightather.
“Itmightbe—murder.”
“Oh,no?”JanePlenderleithshrankback.“Ohno!Whatahorriblesuggestion.”
“Horrible,perhaps,butdoesitstrikeyouasanimpossibleone?”
“Butthedoorwaslockedontheinside.Sowasthewindow.”
“Thedoorwaslocked—yes.Butthereisnothingtoshowifitwerelockedfromtheinsideortheoutside.Yousee,thekeywasmissing.”
“Butthen—ifitismissing…”Shetookaminuteortwo.“Thenitmusthavebeenlockedfromtheoutside.Otherwiseitwouldbesomewhereintheroom.”
“Ah,butitmaybe.Theroomhasnotbeenthoroughlysearchedyet,remember.Oritmayhavebeenthrownoutofthewindowandsomebodymayhavepickeditup.”
“Murder!”saidJanePlenderleith.Sheturnedoverthepossibility,herdarkcleverfaceeageronthescent.“Ibelieveyou’reright.”
“Butifitweremurdertherewouldhavebeenamotive.Doyouknowofamotive,mademoiselle?”
Slowlysheshookherhead.Andyet,inspiteofthedenial,PoirotagaingottheimpressionthatJanePlenderleithwasdeliberatelykeepingsomethingback.ThedooropenedandJappcamein.
Poirotrose.
“IhavebeensuggestingtoMissPlenderleith,”hesaid,“thatherfriend’sdeathwasnotsuicide.”
Japplookedmomentarilyputout.HecastaglanceofreproachatPoirot.
“It’sabitearlytosayanythingdefinite,”heremarked.“We’vealwaysgottotakeallpossibilitiesintoaccount,youunderstand.That’sallthereistoitatthemoment.”
JanePlenderleithrepliedquietly.
“Isee.”
Jappcametowardsher.
“Nowthen,MissPlenderleith,haveyoueverseenthisbefore?”
Onthepalmofhishandheheldoutasmallovalofdarkblueenamel.
JanePlenderleithshookherhead.
“No,never.”
“It’snotyoursnorMrs.Allen’s?”
“No.It’snotthekindofthingusuallywornbyoursex,isit?”
“Oh!soyourecognizeit.”
“Well,it’sprettyobvious,isn’tit?That’shalfofaman’scufflink.”
Four
“Thatyoungwoman’stoocockybyhalf,”Jappcomplained.
ThetwomenwereoncemoreinMrs.Allen’sbedroom.Thebodyhadbeenphotographedandremovedandthefingerprintmanhaddonehisworkanddeparted.
“Itwouldbeunadvisabletotreatherasafool,”agreedPoirot.“Shemostemphaticallyisnotafool.Sheis,infact,aparticularlycleverandcompetentyoungwoman.”
“Thinkshedidit?”askedJappwithamomentaryrayofhope.“Shemighthave,youknow.We’llhavetogetheralibilookedinto.Somequarreloverthisyoungman—thisbuddingM.P.She’srathertooscathingabouthim,Ithink!Soundsfishy.Ratherasthoughsheweresweetonhimherselfandhe’dturnedherdown.She’sthekindthatwouldbumpanyoneoffifshefeltlikeit,andkeepherheadwhileshewasdoingit,too.Yes,we’llhavetolookintothatalibi.ShehaditverypatandafterallEssexisn’tveryfaraway.Plentyoftrains.Orafastcar.It’sworthwhilefindingoutifshewenttobedwithaheadacheforinstancelastnight.”
“Youareright,”agreedPoirot.
“Inanycase,”continuedJapp,“she’sholdingoutonus.Eh?Didn’tyoufeelthattoo?Thatyoungwomanknowssomething.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.
“Yes,thatcouldbeclearlyseen.”
“That’salwaysadifficultyinthesecases,”Jappcomplained.“Peoplewillholdtheirtongues—sometimesoutofthemosthonourablemotives.”
“Forwhichonecanhardlyblamethem,myfriend.”
“No,butitmakesitmuchharderforus,”Jappgrumbled.
“Itmerelydisplaystoitsfulladvantageyouringenuity,”Poirotconsoledhim.“Whataboutfingerprints,bytheway?”
“Well,it’smurderallright.Noprintswhateveronthepistol.Wipedcleanbeforebeingplacedinherhand.Evenifshemanagedtowindherarmroundherheadinsomemarvellousacrobaticfashionshecouldhardlyfireoffapistolwithouthangingontoitandshecouldn’twipeitaftershewasdead.”
“No,no,anoutsideagencyisclearlyindicated.”
“Otherwisetheprintsaredisappointing.Noneonthedoor-handle.Noneonthewindow.Suggestive,eh?PlentyofMrs.Allen’sallovertheplace.”
“DidJamesongetanything?”
“Outofthedailywoman?No.Shetalkedalotbutshedidn’treallyknowmuch.ConfirmedthefactthatAllenandPlenderleithwereongoodterms.I’vesentJamesonouttomakeinquiriesinthemews.We’llhavetohaveawordwithMr.Laverton-Westtoo.Findoutwherehewasandwhathewasdoinglastnight.Inthemeantimewe’llhavealookthroughherpapers.”
Hesettowithoutmoreado.OccasionallyhegruntedandtossedsomethingovertoPoirot.Thesearchdidnottakelong.Therewerenotmanypapersinthedeskandwhattherewerewereneatlyarrangedanddocketed.
FinallyJappleantbackandutteredasigh.
“Notverymuch,isthere?”
“Asyousay.”
“Mostofitquitestraightforward—receiptedbills,afewbillsasyetunpaid—nothingparticularlyoutstanding.Socialstuff—invitations.Notesfromfriends.These—”helaidhishandonapileofsevenoreightletters—“andherchequebookandpassbook.Anythingstrikeyouthere?”
“Yes,shewasoverdrawn.”
“Anythingelse?”
Poirotsmiled.
“Isitanexaminationthatyouputmethrough?Butyes,Inoticedwhatyouarethinkingof.Twohundredpoundsdrawntoselfthreemonthsago—andtwohundredpoundsdrawnoutyesterday—”
“Andnothingonthecounterfoilofthechequebook.Nootherchequestoselfexceptsmallsums—fifteenpoundsthehighest.AndI’lltellyouthis—there’snosuchsumofmoneyinthehouse.Fourpoundsteninahandbagandanoddshillingortwoinanotherbag.That’sprettyclear,Ithink.”
“Meaningthatshepaidthatsumawayyesterday.”
“Yes.Nowwhodidshepayitto?”
ThedooropenedandInspectorJamesonentered.
“Well,Jameson,getanything?”
“Yes,sir,severalthings.Tobeginwith,nobodyactuallyheardtheshot.Twoorthreewomensaytheydidbecausetheywanttothinktheydid—butthat’sallthereistoit.Withallthosefireworksgoingoffthereisn’tadog’schance.”
Jappgrunted.
“Don’tsupposethereis.Goon.”
“Mrs.Allenwasathomemostofyesterdayafternoonandevening.Cameinaboutfiveo’clock.Thenshewentoutagainaboutsixbutonlytothepostboxattheendofthemews.Ataboutnine-thirtyacardroveup—StandardSwallowsaloon—andamangotout.Descriptionaboutforty-five,wellsetupmilitary-lookinggent,darkblueovercoat,bowlerhat,toothbrushmoustache.JamesHogg,chauffeurfromNo.18sayshe’sseenhimcallingonMrs.Allenbefore.”
“Forty-five,”saidJapp.“Can’tverywellbeLaverton-West.”
“Thisman,whoeverhewas,stayedhereforjustunderanhour.Leftataboutten-twenty.StoppedinthedoorwaytospeaktoMrs.Allen.Smallboy,FrederickHogg,washangingaboutquitenearandheardwhathesaid.”
“Andwhatdidhesay?”
“‘Well,thinkitoverandletmeknow.’Andthenshesaidsomethingandheanswered:‘Allright.Solong.’Afterthathegotinhiscaranddroveaway.”
“Thatwasatten-twenty,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.
Japprubbedhisnose.
“Thenatten-twentyMrs.Allenwasstillalive,”hesaid.“Whatnext?”
“Nothingmore,sir,asfarasIcanlearn.ThechauffeuratNo.22gotinathalf-pasttenandhe’dpromisedhiskidstoletoffsomefireworksforthem.They’dbeenwaitingforhim—andalltheotherkidsinthemewstoo.Helet’emoffandeverybodyaroundaboutwasbusywatchingthem.Afterthateveryonewenttobed.”
“AndnobodyelsewasseentoenterNo.14?”
“No—butthat’snottosaytheydidn’t.Nobodywouldhavenoticed.”
“H’m,”saidJapp.“That’strue.Well,we’llhavetogetholdofthis‘militarygentlemanwiththetoothbrushmoustache.’It’sprettyclearthathewasthelastpersontoseeheralive.Iwonderwhohewas?”
“MissPlenderleithmighttellus,”suggestedPoirot.
“Shemight,”saidJappgloomily.“Ontheotherhandshemightnot.I’venodoubtshecouldtellusagooddealifsheliked.Whataboutyou,Poirot,oldboy?Youwerealonewithherforabit.Didn’tyoutrotoutthatFatherConfessormannerofyoursthatsometimesmakessuchahit?”
Poirotspreadouthishands.
“Alas,wetalkedonlyofgasfires.”
“Gasfires—gasfires.”Jappsoundeddisgusted.“What’sthematterwithyou,oldcock?Eversinceyou’vebeenheretheonlythingsyou’vetakenaninterestinarequillpensandwastepaperbaskets.Oh,yes,Isawyouhavingaquietlookintotheonedownstairs.Anythinginit?”
Poirotsighed.
“Acatalogueofbulbsandanoldmagazine.”
“What’stheidea,anyway?Ifanyonewantstothrowawayanincriminatingdocumentorwhateveritisyouhaveinmindthey’renotlikelyjusttopitchitintoawastepaperbasket.”
“Thatisverytruewhatyousaythere.Onlysomethingquiteunimportantwouldbethrownawaylikethat.”
Poirotspokemeekly.NeverthelessJapplookedathimsuspiciously.
“Well,”hesaid.“IknowwhatI’mgoingtodonext.Whataboutyou?”
“Ehbien,”saidPoirot.“Ishallcompletemysearchfortheunimportant.Thereisstillthedustbin.”
Heskippednimblyoutoftheroom.Japplookedafterhimwithanairofdisgust.
“Potty,”hesaid.“Absolutelypotty.”
InspectorJamesonpreservedarespectfulsilence.HisfacesaidwithBritishsuperiority:“Foreigners!”
Aloudhesaid:
“Sothat’sMr.HerculePoirot!I’veheardofhim.”
“Oldfriendofmine,”explainedJapp.“Nothalfasbalmyashelooks,mindyou.Allthesamehe’sgettingonnow.”
“Goneabitgagaastheysay,sir,”suggestedInspectorJameson.“Ahwell,agewilltell.”
“Allthesame,”saidJapp,“IwishIknewwhathewasupto.”
Hewalkedovertothewritingtableandstareduneasilyatanemeraldgreenquillpen.
Five
Jappwasjustengaginghisthirdchauffeur’swifeinconversationwhenPoirot,walkingnoiselesslyasacat,suddenlyappearedathiselbow.
“Whew,youmademejump,”saidJapp.“Gotanything?”
“NotwhatIwaslookingfor.”
JappturnedbacktoMrs.JamesHogg.
“Andyousayyou’veseenthisgentlemanbefore?”
“Oh,yessir.Andmyhusbandtoo.Weknewhimatonce.”
“Nowlookhere,Mrs.Hogg,you’reashrewdwoman,Icansee.I’venodoubtthatyouknowallabouteveryoneinthemews.Andyou’reawomanofjudgment—unusuallygoodjudgment,Icantellthat—”Unblushinglyherepeatedthisremarkforthethirdtime.Mrs.Hoggbridledslightlyandassumedanexpressionofsuperhumanintelligence.“Givemealineonthosetwoyoungwomen—Mrs.AllenandMissPlenderleith.Whatweretheylike?Gay?Lotsofparties?Thatsortofthing?”
“Oh,nosir,nothingofthekind.Theywentoutagoodbit—Mrs.Allenespecially—butthey’reclass,ifyouknowwhatImean.NotlikesomeasIcouldnamedowntheotherend.I’msurethewaythatMrs.Stevensgoeson—ifsheisaMrs.atallwhichIdoubt—wellIshouldn’tliketotellyouwhatgoesonthere—I….”
“Quiteso,”saidJapp,dexterouslystoppingtheflow.“Nowthat’sveryimportantwhatyou’vetoldme.Mrs.AllenandMissPlenderleithwerewellliked,then?”
“Ohyes,sir,veryniceladies,bothofthem—especiallyMrs.Allen.Alwaysspokeanicewordtothechildren,shedid.Lostherownlittlegirl,Ibelieve,poordear.Ahwell,I’veburiedthreemyself.AndwhatIsayis…”
“Yes,yes,verysad.AndMissPlenderleith?”
“Well,ofcourseshewasaniceladytoo,butmuchmoreabruptifyouknowwhatImean.Justgobywithanod,shewould,andnotstoptopassthetimeofday.ButI’venothingagainsther—nothingatall.”
“SheandMrs.Allengotonwelltogether?”
“Oh,yessir.Noquarrelling—nothinglikethat.Veryhappyandcontentedtheywere—I’msureMrs.Piercewillbearmeout.”
“Yes,we’vetalkedtoher.DoyouknowMrs.Allen’sfiancébysight?”
“Thegentlemanshe’sgoingtomarry?Oh,yes.He’sbeenherequiteabitoffandon.MemberofParliament,theydosay.”
“Itwasn’thewhocamelastnight?”
“No,sir,itwasnot.”Mrs.Hoggdrewherselfup.Anoteofexcitementdisguisedbeneathintenseprimnesscameintohervoice.“Andifyouaskme,sir,whatyouarethinkingisallwrong.Mrs.Allenwasn’tthatkindoflady,I’msure.It’struetherewasnooneinthehouse,butIdonotbelieveanythingofthekind—IsaidsotoHoggonlythismorning.‘No,Hogg,’Isaid,‘Mrs.Allenwasalady—areallady—sodon’tgosuggestingthings’—knowingwhataman’smindis,ifyou’llexcusemymentioningit.Alwayscoarseintheirideas.”
Passingthisinsultby,Jappproceeded:
“Yousawhimarriveandyousawhimleave—that’sso,isn’tit?”
“That’sso,sir.”
“Andyoudidn’thearanythingelse?Anysoundsofaquarrel?”
“No,sir,norlikelyto.Not,thatistosay,thatsuchthingscouldn’tbeheard—becausethecontrarytothatiswell-known—anddowntheotherendthewayMrs.Stevensgoesforthatpoorfrightenedmaidofhersiscommontalk—andoneandallwe’veadvisedhernottostandit,butthere,thewagesisgood—temperofthedevilshemayhavebutpaysforit—thirtyshillingsaweek….”
Jappsaidquickly:
“Butyoudidn’thearanythingofthekindatNo.14?”
“No,sir.Norlikelytowithfireworkspoppingoffhere,thereandeverywhereandmyEddiewithhiseyebrowssingedoffasnearasnothing.”
“Thismanleftatten-twenty—that’sright,isit?”
“Itmightbe,sir.Icouldn’tsaymyself.ButHoggsayssoandhe’saveryreliable,steadyman.”
“Youactuallysawhimleave.Didyouhearwhathesaid?”
“No,sir.Iwasn’tnearenoughforthat.Justsawhimfrommywindows,standinginthedoorwaytalkingtoMrs.Allen.”
“Seehertoo?”
“Yes,sir,shewasstandingjustinsidethedoorway.”
“Noticewhatshewaswearing?”
“Nowreally,sir,Icouldn’tsay.Notnoticingparticularlyasitwere.”
Poirotsaid:
“Youdidnotevennoticeifshewaswearingdaydressoreveningdress?”
“No,sir,Ican’tsayIdid.”
PoirotlookedthoughtfullyupatthewindowaboveandthenacrosstoNo.14.HesmiledandforamomenthiseyecaughtJapp’s.
“Andthegentleman?”
“Hewasinadark-blueovercoatandabowlerhat.Verysmartandwellsetup.”
Jappaskedafewmorequestionsandthenproceededtohisnextinterview.ThiswaswithMasterFrederickHogg,animpish-faced,bright-eyedlad,considerablyswollenwithself-importance.
“Yes,sir.Iheardthemtalking.‘Thinkitoverandletmeknow,’thegentsaid.Pleasantlike,youknow.Andthenshesaidsomethingandheanswered,‘Allright.Solong.’Andhegotintothecar—Iwasholdingthedooropenbuthedidn’tgivemenothing,”saidMasterHoggwithaslighttingeofdepressioninhistone.“Andhedroveaway.”
“Youdidn’thearwhatMrs.Allensaid?”
“No,sir,can’tsayIdid.”
“Canyoutellmewhatshewaswearing?Whatcolour,forinstance?”
“Couldn’tsay,sir.Yousee,Ididn’treallyseeher.Shemusthavebeenroundbehindthedoor.”
“Justso,”saidJapp.“Nowlookhere,myboy,Iwantyoutothinkandanswermynextquestionverycarefully.Ifyoudon’tknowandcan’tremember,sayso.Isthatclear?”
“Yes,sir.”
MasterHogglookedathimeagerly.
“Whichof’emclosedthedoor,Mrs.Allenorthegentleman?”
“Thefrontdoor?”
“Thefrontdoor,naturally.”
Thechildreflected.Hiseyesscrewedthemselvesupinaneffortofremembrance.
“Thinktheladyprobablydid—No,shedidn’t.Hedid.Pulledittowithabitofabangandjumpedintothecarquick.Lookedasthoughhehadadatesomewhere.”
“Right.Well,youngman,youseemabrightkindofshaver.Here’ssixpenceforyou.”
DismissingMasterHogg,Jappturnedtohisfriend.Slowlywithoneaccordtheynodded.
“Couldbe!”saidJapp.
“Therearepossibilities,”agreedPoirot.
Hiseyesshonewithagreenlight.Theylookedlikeacat’s.
Six
OnreenteringthesittingroomofNo.14,Jappwastednotimeinbeatingaboutthebush.Hecamestraighttothepoint
“Nowlookhere,MissPlenderleith,don’tyouthinkit’sbettertospillthebeanshereandnow.It’sgoingtocometothatintheend.”
JanePlenderleithraisedhereyebrows.Shewasstandingbythemantelpiece,gentlywarmingonefootatthefire.
“Ireallydon’tknowwhatyoumean.”
“Isthatquitetrue,MissPlenderleith?”
Sheshruggedhershoulders.
“I’veansweredallyourquestions.Idon’tseewhatmoreIcando.”
“Well,it’smyopinionyoucoulddoalotmore—ifyouchose.”
“That’sonlyanopinion,though,isn’tit,ChiefInspector?”
Jappgrewratherredintheface.
“Ithink,”saidPoirot,“thatmademoisellewouldappreciatebetterthereasonforyourquestionsifyoutoldherjusthowthecasestands.”
“That’sverysimple.Nowthen,MissPlenderleith,thefactsareasfollows.Yourfriendwasfoundshotthroughtheheadwithapistolinherhandandthedoorandthewindowfastened.Thatlookedlikeaplaincaseofsuicide.Butitwasn’tsuicide.Themedicalevidencealoneprovesthat.”
“How?”
Allherironiccoolnesshaddisappeared.Sheleanedforward—intent—watchinghisface.
“Thepistolwasinherhand—butthefingersweren’tgraspingit.Moreovertherewerenofingerprintsatallonthepistol.Andtheangleofthewoundmakesitimpossiblethatthewoundshouldhavebeenself-inflicted.Thenagain,sheleftnoletter—ratheranunusualthingforasuicide.Andthoughthedoorwaslockedthekeyhasnotbeenfound.”
JanePlenderleithturnedslowlyandsatdowninachairfacingthem.
“Sothat’sit!”shesaid.“AllalongI’vefeltitwasimpossiblethatsheshouldhavekilledherself!Iwasright!Shedidn’tkillherself.Someoneelsekilledher.”
Foramomentortwosheremainedlostinthought.Thensheraisedherheadbrusquely.
“Askmeanyquestionsyoulike,”shesaid.“Iwillanswerthemtothebestofmyability.”
Jappbegan:
“LastnightMrs.Allenhadavisitor.Heisdescribedasamanofforty-five,militarybearing,toothbrushmoustache,smartlydressedanddrivingaStandardSwallowsalooncar.Doyouknowwhothatis?”
“Ican’tbesure,ofcourse,butitsoundslikeMajorEustace.”
“WhoisMajorEustace?Tellmeallyoucanabouthim?”
“HewasamanBarbarahadknownabroad—inIndia.Heturnedupaboutayearago,andwe’veseenhimonandoffsince.”
“HewasafriendofMrs.Allen’s?”
“Hebehavedlikeone,”saidJanedryly.
“Whatwasherattitudetohim?”
“Idon’tthinkshereallylikedhim—infact,I’msureshedidn’t.”
“Butshetreatedhimwithoutwardfriendliness?”
“Yes.”
“Didsheeverseem—thinkcarefully,MissPlenderleith—afraidofhim?”
JanePlenderleithconsideredthisthoughtfullyforaminuteortwo.Thenshesaid:
“Yes—Ithinkshewas.Shewasalwaysnervouswhenhewasabout.”
“DidheandMr.Laverton-Westmeetatall?”
“Onlyonce,Ithink.Theydidn’ttaketoeachothermuch.Thatistosay,MajorEustacemadehimselfasagreeableashecouldtoCharles,butCharleswasn’thavingany.Charleshasgotaverygoodnoseforanybodywhoisn’twell—quite—quite.”
“AndMajorEustacewasnot—whatyoucall—quite—quite?”askedPoirot.
Thegirlsaiddryly:
“No,hewasn’t.Bithairyattheheel.Definitelynotoutofthetopdrawer.”
“Alas—Idonotknowthosetwoexpressions.Youmeantosayhewasnotthepukkasahib?”
AfleetingsmilepassedacrossJanePlenderleith’sface,butsherepliedgravely,“No.”
“Woulditcomeasagreatsurprisetoyou,MissPlenderleith,ifIsuggestedthatthismanwasblackmailingMrs.Allen?”
Jappsatforwardtoobservetheresultofhissuggestion.
Hewaswellsatisfied.Thegirlstartedforward,thecolourroseinhercheeks,shebroughtdownherhandsharplyonthearmofherchair.
“Sothatwasit!WhatafoolIwasnottohaveguessed.Ofcourse!”
“Youthinkthesuggestionfeasible,mademoiselle?”askedPoirot.
“Iwasafoolnottohavethoughtofit!Barbara’sborrowedsmallsumsoffmeseveraltimesduringthelastsixmonths.AndI’veseenhersittingporingoverherpassbook.Iknewshewaslivingwellwithinherincome,soIdidn’tbother,but,ofcourse,ifshewaspayingoutsumsofmoney—”
“Anditwouldaccordwithhergeneraldemeanour—yes?”askedPoirot.
“Absolutely.Shewasnervous.Quitejumpysometimes.Altogetherdifferentfromwhatsheusedtobe.”
Poirotsaidgently:
“Excuseme,butthatisnotjustwhatyoutoldusbefore.”
“Thatwasdifferent,”JanePlenderleithwavedanimpatienthand.“Shewasn’tdepressed.Imeanshewasn’tfeelingsuicidaloranythinglikethat.Butblackmail—yes.Iwishshe’dtoldme.I’dhavesenthimtothedevil.”
“Buthemighthavegone—nottothedevil,buttoMr.CharlesLaverton-West?”observedPoirot.
“Yes,”saidJanePlenderleithslowly.“Yes…that’strue….”
“You’venoideaofwhatthisman’sholdoverhermayhavebeen?”askedJapp.
Thegirlshookherhead.
“Ihaven’tthefaintestidea.Ican’tbelieve,knowingBarbara,thatitcouldhavebeenanythingreallyserious.Ontheotherhand—”shepaused,thenwenton.“WhatImeanis,Barbarawasabitofasimpletoninsomeways.She’dbeveryeasilyfrightened.Infact,shewasthekindofgirlwhowouldbeapositivegifttoablackmailer!Thenastybrute!”
Shesnappedoutthelastthreewordswithrealvenom.
“Unfortunately,”saidPoirot,“thecrimeseemstohavetakenplacethewrongwayround.Itisthevictimwhoshouldkilltheblackmailer,nottheblackmailerhisvictim.”
JanePlenderleithfrownedalittle.
“No—thatistrue—butIcanimaginecircumstances—”
“Suchas?”
“SupposingBarbaragotdesperate.Shemayhavethreatenedhimwiththatsillylittlepistolofhers.Hetriestowrenchitawayfromherandinthestrugglehefiresitandkillsher.Thenhe’shorrifiedatwhathe’sdoneandtriestopretenditwassuicide.”
“Mightbe,”saidJapp.“Butthere’sadifficulty.”
Shelookedathiminquiringly.
“MajorEustace(ifitwashim)leftherelastnightatten-twentyandsaidgoodbyetoMrs.Allenonthedoorstep.”
“Oh,”thegirl’sfacefell.“Isee.”Shepausedaminuteortwo.“Buthemighthavecomebacklater,”shesaidslowly.
“Yes,thatispossible,”saidPoirot.
Jappcontinued:
“Tellme,MissPlenderleith,wherewasMrs.Alleninthehabitofreceivingguests,hereorintheroomupstairs?”
“Both.Butthisroomwasusedformorecommunalpartiesorformyownspecialfriends.Yousee,thearrangementwasthatBarbarahadthebigbedroomanduseditasasittingroomaswell,andIhadthelittlebedroomandusedthisroom.”
“IfMajorEustacecamebyappointmentlastnight,inwhichroomdoyouthinkMrs.Allenwouldhavereceivedhim?”
“Ithinkshewouldprobablybringhiminhere.”Thegirlsoundedalittledoubtful.“Itwouldbelessintimate.Ontheotherhand,ifshewantedtowriteachequeoranythingofthatkind,shewouldprobablytakehimupstairs.Therearenowritingmaterialsdownhere.”
Jappshookhishead.
“Therewasnoquestionofacheque.Mrs.Allendrewouttwohundredpoundsincashyesterday.Andsofarwe’venotbeenabletofindanytraceofitinthehouse.”
“Andshegaveittothatbrute?Oh,poorBarbara!Poor,poorBarbara!”
Poirotcoughed.
“Unless,asyousuggest,itwasmoreorlessanaccident,itstillseemsaremarkablefactthatheshouldkillanapparentlyregularsourceofincome.”
“Accident?Itwasn’tanaccident.Helosthistemperandsawredandshother.”
“Thatishowyouthinkithappened?”
“Yes.”Sheaddedvehemently,“Itwasmurder—murder!”
Poirotsaidgravely:
“Iwillnotsaythatyouarewrong,mademoiselle.”
Jappsaid:
“WhatcigarettesdidMrs.Allensmoke?”
“Gaspers.Therearesomeinthatbox.”
Jappopenedthebox,tookoutacigaretteandnodded.Heslippedthecigaretteintohispocket.
“Andyou,mademoiselle?”askedPoirot
“Thesame.”
“YoudonotsmokeTurkish?”
“Never.”
“NorMrs.Allen?”
“No.Shedidn’tlikethem.”
Poirotasked:
“AndMr.Laverton-West.Whatdidhesmoke?”
Shestaredhardathim.
“Charles?Whatdoesitmatterwhathesmoked?You’renotgoingtopretendthathekilledher?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Amanhaskilledthewomanhelovedbeforenow,mademoiselle.”
Janeshookherheadimpatiently.
“Charleswouldn’tkillanybody.He’saverycarefulman.”
“Allthesame,mademoiselle,itisthecarefulmenwhocommitthecleverestmurders.”
Shestaredathim.
“Butnotforthemotiveyouhavejustadvanced,M.Poirot.”
Hebowedhishead.
“No,thatistrue.”
Japprose.
“Well,Idon’tthinkthatthere’smuchmoreIcandohere.I’dliketohaveonemorelookround.”
“Incasethatmoneyshouldbetuckedawaysomewhere?Certainly.Lookanywhereyoulike.Andinmyroomtoo—althoughitisn’tlikelyBarbarawouldhideitthere.”
Japp’ssearchwasquickbutefficient.Thelivingroomhadgivenupallitssecretsinaveryfewminutes.Thenhewentupstairs.JanePlenderleithsatonthearmofachair,smokingacigaretteandfrowningatthefire.Poirotwatchedher.
Aftersomeminutes,hesaidquietly:
“DoyouknowifMr.Laverton-WestisinLondonatpresent?”
“Idon’tknowatall.Iratherfancyhe’sinHampshirewithhispeople.IsupposeIoughttohavewiredhim.Howdreadful.Iforgot.”
“Itisnoteasytoremembereverything,mademoiselle,whenacatastropheoccurs.Andafterall,thebadnews,itwillkeep.Onehearsitonlytoosoon.”
“Yes,that’strue,”thegirlsaidabsently.
Japp’sfootstepswerehearddescendingthestairs.Janewentouttomeethim.
“Well?”
Jappshookhishead.
“Nothinghelpful,I’mafraid,MissPlenderleith.I’vebeenoverthewholehousenow.Oh,IsupposeI’dbetterjusthavealookinthiscupboardunderthestairs.”
Hecaughtholdofthehandleashespoke,andpulled.
JanePlenderleithsaid:
“It’slocked.”
Somethinginhervoicemadebothmenlookathersharply.
“Yes,”saidJapppleasantly.“Icanseeit’slocked.Perhapsyou’llgetthekey.”
Thegirlwasstandingasthoughcarvedinstone.
“I—I’mnotsurewhereitis.”
Jappshotaquickglanceather.Hisvoicecontinuedresolutelypleasantandoffhand.
“Dearme,that’stoobad.Don’twanttosplinterthewood,openingitbyforce.I’llsendJamesonouttogetanassortmentofkeys.”
Shemovedforwardstiffly.
“Oh,”shesaid.“Oneminute.Itmightbe—”
Shewentbackintothelivingroomandreappearedamomentlaterholdingafair-sizedkeyinherhand.
“Wekeepitlocked,”sheexplained,“becauseone’sumbrellasandthingshaveahabitofgettingpinched.”
“Verywiseprecaution,”saidJapp,cheerfullyacceptingthekey.
Heturneditinthelockandthrewthedooropen.Itwasdarkinsidethecupboard.Japptookouthispocketflashlightandletitplayroundtheinside.
Poirotfeltthegirlathissidestiffenandstopbreathingforasecond.HiseyesfollowedthesweepofJapp’storch.
Therewasnotverymuchinthecupboard.Threeumbrellas—onebroken,fourwalkingsticks,asetofgolfclubs,twotennisracquets,aneatly-foldedrugandseveralsofacushionsinvariousstagesofdilapidation.Onthetopoftheselastreposedasmall,smart-lookingattachécase.
AsJappstretchedoutahandtowardsit,JanePlenderleithsaidquickly:
“That’smine.I—itcamebackwithmethismorning.Sotherecan’tbeanythingthere.”
“Justaswelltomakequitesure,”saidJapp,hischeeryfriendlinessincreasingslightly.
Thecasewasunlocked.Insideitwasfittedwithshagreenbrushesandtoiletbottles.Thereweretwomagazinesinitbutnothingelse.
Jappexaminedthewholeoutfitwithmeticulousattention.Whenatlastheshutthelidandbeganacursoryexaminationofthecushions,thegirlgaveanaudiblesighofrelief.
Therewasnothingelseinthecupboardbeyondwhatwasplainlytobeseen.Japp’sexaminationwassoonfinished.
HerelockedthedoorandhandedthekeytoJanePlenderleith.
“Well,”hesaid,“thatconcludesmatters.CanyougivemeMr.Laverton-West’saddress?”
“FarlescombeHall,LittleLedbury,Hampshire.”
“Thankyou,MissPlenderleith.That’sallforthepresent.Imayberoundagainlater.Bytheway,mum’stheword.Leaveitatsuicideasfarasthegeneralpublic’sconcerned.”
“Ofcourse,Iquiteunderstand.”
Sheshookhandswiththemboth.
Astheywalkedawaydownthemews,Jappexploded:
“Whatthe—thehellwasthereinthatcupboard?Therewassomething.”
“Yes,therewassomething.”
“AndI’llbettentooneitwassomethingtodowiththeattachécase!Butlikethedouble-dyedmuttImustbe,Icouldn’tfindanything.Lookedinallthebottles—feltthelining—whatthedevilcoulditbe?”
Poirotshookhisheadthoughtfully.
“Thatgirl’sinitsomehow,”Jappwenton.“Broughtthatcasebackthismorning?Notonyourlife,shedidn’t!Noticethatthereweretwomagazinesinit?”
“Yes.”
“Well,oneofthemwasforlastJuly!”
Seven
I
ItwasthefollowingdaywhenJappwalkedintoPoirot’sflat,flunghishatonthetableindeepdisgustanddroppedintoachair.
“Well,”hegrowled.“She’soutofit!”
“Whoisoutofit?”
“Plenderleith.Wasplayingbridgeuptomidnight.Host,hostess,navalcommanderguestandtwoservantscanallsweartothat.Nodoubtaboutit,we’vegottogiveupanyideaofherbeingconcernedinthebusiness.Allthesame,I’dliketoknowwhyshewentallhotandbotheredaboutthatlittleattachécaseunderthestairs.That’ssomethinginyourline,Poirot.Youlikesolvingthekindoftrivialitythatleadsnowhere.TheMysteryoftheSmallAttachéCase.Soundsquitepromising!”
“Iwillgiveyouyetanothersuggestionforatitle.TheMysteryoftheSmellofCigaretteSmoke.”
“Abitclumsyforatitle.Smell—eh?Wasthatwhyyouweresniffingsowhenwefirstexaminedthebody?Isawyou—andheardyou!Sniff—sniff—sniff.Thoughtyouhadacoldinyourhead.”
“Youwereentirelyinerror.”
Jappsighed.
“Ialwaysthoughtitwasthelittlegreycellsofthebrain.Don’ttellmethecellsofyournoseareequallysuperiortoanyoneelse’s.”
“No,no,calmyourself.”
“Ididn’tsmellanycigarettesmoke,”wentonJappsuspiciously.
“NomoredidI,myfriend.”
Japplookedathimdoubtfully.Thenheextractedacigarettefromhispocket.
“That’sthekindMrs.Allensmoked—gaspers.Sixofthosestubswerehers.TheotherthreewereTurkish.”
“Exactly.”
“Yourwonderfulnoseknewthatwithoutlookingatthem,Isuppose!”
“Iassureyoumynosedoesnotenterintothematter.Mynoseregisterednothing.”
“Butthebraincellsregisteredalot?”
“Well—therewerecertainindications—doyounotthinkso?”
Japplookedathimsideways.
“Suchas?”
“Ehbien,therewasverydefinitelysomethingmissingfromtheroom.Alsosomethingadded,Ithink…Andthen,onthewritingbureau…”
“Iknewit!We’recomingtothatdamnedquillpen!”
“Dutout.Thequillpenplaysapurelynegativer?le.”
Jappretreatedtosaferground.
“I’vegotCharlesLaverton-WestcomingtoseemeatScotlandYardinhalfanhour.Ithoughtyoumightliketobethere.”
“Ishouldverymuch.”
“Andyou’llbegladtohearwe’vetrackeddownMajorEustace.GotaserviceflatintheCromwellRoad.”
“Excellent.”
“Andwe’vegotalittletogoonthere.Notatallaniceperson,MajorEustace.AfterI’veseenLaverton-West,we’llgoandseehim.Thatsuityou?”
“Perfectly.”
“Well,comealongthen.”
II
Athalfpasteleven,CharlesLaverton-WestwasusheredintoChiefInspectorJapp’sroom.Japproseandshookhands.
TheM.P.wasamanofmediumheightwithaverydefinitepersonality.Hewasclean-shaven,withthemobilemouthofanactor,andtheslightlyprominenteyesthatsooftengowiththegiftoforatory.Hewasgood-lookinginaquiet,well-bredway.
Thoughlookingpaleandsomewhatdistressed,hismannerwasperfectlyformalandcomposed.
Hetookaseat,laidhisglovesandhatonthetableandlookedtowardsJapp.
“I’dliketosay,firstofall,Mr.Laverton-West,thatIfullyappreciatehowdistressingthismustbetoyou.”
Laverton-Westwavedthisaside.
“Donotletusdiscussmyfeelings.Tellme,ChiefInspector,haveyouanyideawhatcausedmy—Mrs.Allentotakeherownlife?”
“Youyourselfcannothelpusinanyway?”
“No,indeed.”
“Therewasnoquarrel?Noestrangementofanykindbetweenyou?”
“Nothingofthekind.Ithasbeenthegreatestshocktome.”
“Perhapsitwillbemoreunderstandable,sir,ifItellyouthatitwasnotsuicide—butmurder!”
“Murder?”CharlesLaverton-West’seyespoppednearlyoutofhishead.“Yousaymurder?”
“Quitecorrect.Now,Mr.Laverton-West,haveyouanyideawhomightbelikelytomakeawaywithMrs.Allen?”
Laverton-Westfairlysplutteredouthisanswer.
“No—no,indeed—nothingofthesort!Themereideais—isunimaginable!”
“Shenevermentionedanyenemies?Anyonewhomighthaveagrudgeagainsther?”
“Never.”
“Didyouknowthatshehadapistol?”
“Iwasnotawareofthefact.”
Helookedalittlestartled.
“MissPlenderleithsaysthatMrs.Allenbroughtthispistolbackfromabroadwithhersomeyearsago.”
“Really?”
“Ofcourse,wehaveonlyMissPlenderleith’swordforthat.ItisquitepossiblethatMrs.Allenfeltherselftobeindangerfromsomesourceandkeptthepistolhandyforreasonsofherown.”
CharlesLaverton-Westshookhisheaddoubtfully.Heseemedquitebewilderedanddazed.
“WhatisyouropinionofMissPlenderleith,Mr.Laverton-West?Imean,doesshestrikeyouasareliable,truthfulperson?”
Theotherponderedaminute.
“Ithinkso—yes,Ishouldsayso.”
“Youdon’tlikeher?”suggestedJapp,whohadbeenwatchinghimclosely.
“Iwouldn’tsaythat.SheisnotthetypeofyoungwomanIadmire.Thatsarcastic,independenttypeisnotattractivetome,butIshouldsayshewasquitetruthful.”
“H’m,”saidJapp.“DoyouknowaMajorEustace?”
“Eustace?Eustace?Ah,yes,Irememberthename.ImethimonceatBarbara’s—Mrs.Allen’s.Ratheradoubtfulcustomerinmyopinion.Isaidasmuchtomy—toMrs.Allen.Hewasn’tthetypeofmanIshouldhaveencouragedtocometothehouseafterweweremarried.”
“AndwhatdidMrs.Allensay?”
“Oh!shequiteagreed.Shetrustedmyjudgmentimplicitly.Amanknowsothermenbetterthanawomancando.Sheexplainedthatshecouldn’tverywellberudetoamanwhomshehadnotseenforsometime—Ithinkshefeltespeciallyahorrorofbeingsnobbish!Naturally,asmywife,shewouldfindagoodmanyofheroldassociateswell—unsuitable,shallwesay?”
“Meaningthatinmarryingyoushewasbetteringherposition?”Jappaskedbluntly.
Laverton-Westheldupawell-manicuredhand.
“No,no,notquitethat.Asamatteroffact,Mrs.Allen’smotherwasadistantrelationofmyownfamily.Shewasfullymyequalinbirth.Butofcourse,inmyposition,Ihavetobeespeciallycarefulinchoosingmyfriends—andmywifeinchoosinghers.Oneistoacertainextentinthelimelight.”
“Oh,quite,”saidJappdryly.Hewenton,“Soyoucan’thelpusinanyway?”
“Noindeed.Iamutterlyatsea.Barbara!Murdered!Itseemsincredible.”
“Now,Mr.Laverton-West,canyoutellmewhatyourownmovementswereonthenightofNovemberfifth?”
“Mymovements?Mymovements?”
Laverton-West’svoiceroseinshrillprotest.
“Purelyamatterofroutine,”explainedJapp.“We—er—havetoaskeverybody.”
CharlesLaverton-Westlookedathimwithdignity.
“Ishouldhopethatamaninmypositionmightbeexempt.”
Jappmerelywaited.
“Iwas—nowletmesee…Ah,yes.IwasattheHouse.Leftathalfpastten.WentforawalkalongtheEmbankment.Watchedsomeofthefireworks.”
“Nicetothinktherearen’tanyplotsofthatkindnowadays,”saidJappcheerily.
Laverton-Westgavehimafish-likestare.
“ThenI—er—walkedhome.”
“Reachinghome—yourLondonaddressisOnslowSquare,Ithink—atwhattime?”
“Ihardlyknowexactly.”
“Eleven?Halfpast?”
“Somewhereaboutthen.”
“Perhapssomeoneletyouin.”
“No,Ihavemykey.”
“Meetanybodywhilstyouwerewalking?”
“No—er—really,ChiefInspector,Iresentthesequestionsverymuch!”
“Iassureyou,it’sjustamatterofroutine,Mr.Laverton-West.Theyaren’tpersonal,youknow.”
ThereplyseemedtosoothetheirateM.P.
“Ifthatisall—”
“Thatisallforthepresent,Mr.Laverton-West.”
“Youwillkeepmeinformed—”
“Naturally,sir.Bytheway,letmeintroduceM.HerculePoirot.Youmayhaveheardofhim.”
Mr.Laverton-West’seyefasteneditselfinterestedlyonthelittleBelgian.
“Yes—yes—Ihaveheardthename.”
“Monsieur,”saidPoirot,hismannersuddenlyveryforeign.“Believeme,myheartbleedsforyou.Suchaloss!Suchagonyasyoumustbeenduring!Ah,butIwillsaynomore.HowmagnificentlytheEnglishhidetheiremotions.”Hewhippedouthiscigarettecase.“Permitme—Ah,itisempty.Japp?”
Jappslappedhispocketsandshookhishead.
Laverton-Westproducedhisowncigarettecase,murmured,“Er—haveoneofmine,M.Poirot.”
“Thankyou—thankyou.”Thelittlemanhelpedhimself.
“Asyousay,M.Poirot,”resumedtheother,“weEnglishdonotparadeouremotions.Astiffupperlip—thatisourmotto.”
Hebowedtothetwomenandwentout.
“Bitofastuffedfish,”saidJappdisgustedly.“Andaboiledowl!ThePlenderleithgirlwasquiterightabouthim.Yethe’sagood-lookingsortofchap—mightgodownwellwithsomewomanwhohadnosenseofhumour.Whataboutthatcigarette?”
Poirothandeditover,shakinghishead
“Egyptian.Anexpensivevariety.”
“No,that’snogood.Apity,forI’veneverheardaweakeralibi!Infact,itwasn’tanalibiatall…Youknow,Poirot,it’sapitythebootwasn’tontheotherleg.Ifshe’dbeenblackmailinghim…He’salovelytypeforblackmail—wouldpayoutlikealamb!Anythingtoavoidascandal.”
“Myfriend,itisveryprettytoreconstructthecaseasyouwouldlikeittobe,butthatisnotstrictlyouraffair.”
“No,Eustaceisouraffair.I’vegotafewlinesonhim.Definitelyanastyfellow.”
“Bytheway,didyoudoasIsuggestedaboutMissPlenderleith?”
“Yes.Waitasec,I’llringthroughandgetthelatest.”
Hepickedupthetelephonereceiverandspokethroughit.
AfterabriefinterchangehereplaceditandlookedupatPoirot.
“Prettyheartlesspieceofgoods.Goneofftoplaygolf.That’sanicethingtodowhenyourfriend’sbeenmurderedonlythedaybefore.”
Poirotutteredanexclamation.
“What’sthematternow?”askedJapp.
ButPoirotwasmurmuringtohimself.
“Ofcourse…ofcourse…butnaturally…WhatanimbecileIam—why,itleapttotheeye!”
Jappsaidrudely:
“Stopjabberingtoyourselfandlet’sgoandtackleEustace.”
HewasamazedtoseetheradiantsmilethatspreadoverPoirot’sface.
“But—yes—mostcertainlyletustacklehim.Fornow,seeyou,Iknoweverything—buteverything!”
Eight
MajorEustacereceivedthetwomenwiththeeasyassuranceofamanoftheworld.
Hisflatwassmall,amerepiedàterre,asheexplained.Heofferedthetwomenadrinkandwhenthatwasrefusedhetookouthiscigarettecase.
BothJappandPoirotacceptedacigarette.Aquickglancepassedbetweenthem.
“YousmokeTurkish,Isee,”saidJappashetwirledthecigarettebetweenhisfingers.
“Yes.I’msorry,doyoupreferagasper?I’vegotonesomewhereabout.”
“No,no,thiswilldomeverywell.”Thenheleanedforward—histonechanged.“Perhapsyoucanguess,MajorEustace,whatitwasIcametoseeyouabout?”
Theothershookhishead.Hismannerwasnonchalant.MajorEustacewasatallman,good-lookinginasomewhatcoarsefashion.Therewasapuffinessroundtheeyes—small,craftyeyesthatbeliedthegood-humouredgenialityofhismanner.
Hesaid:
“No—I’venoideawhatbringssuchabiggunasachiefinspectortoseeme.Anythingtodowithmycar?”
“No,itisnotyourcar.IthinkyouknewaMrs.BarbaraAllen,MajorEustace?”
Themajorleantback,puffedoutacloudofsmoke,andsaidinanenlightenedvoice:
“Oh,sothat’sit!Ofcourse,Imighthaveguessed.Verysadbusiness.”
“Youknowaboutit?”
“Sawitinthepaperlastnight.Toobad.”
“YouknewMrs.AllenoutinIndia,Ithink.”
“Yes,that’ssomeyearsagonow.”
“Didyoualsoknowherhusband?”
Therewasapause—amerefractionofasecond—butduringthatfractionthelittlepigeyesflashedaquicklookatthefacesofthetwomen.Thenheanswered:
“No,asamatteroffact,InevercameacrossAllen.”
“Butyouknowsomethingabouthim?”
“Heardhewasbywayofbeingabadhat.Ofcourse,thatwasonlyrumour.”
“Mrs.Allendidnotsayanything?”
“Nevertalkedabouthim.”
“Youwereonintimatetermswithher?”
MajorEustaceshruggedhisshoulders.
“Wewereoldfriends,youknow,oldfriends.Butwedidn’tseeeachotherveryoften.”
“Butyoudidseeherthatlastevening?TheeveningofNovemberfifth?”
“Yes,asamatteroffact,Idid.”
“Youcalledatherhouse,Ithink.”
MajorEustacenodded.Hisvoicetookonagentle,regretfulnote.
“Yes,sheaskedmetoadviseheraboutsomeinvestments.Ofcourse,Icanseewhatyou’redrivingat—herstateofmind—allthatsortofthing.Well,really,it’sverydifficulttosay.Hermannerseemednormalenoughandyetshewasabitjumpy,cometothinkofit.”
“Butshegaveyounohintastowhatshecontemplateddoing?”
“Nottheleastintheworld.Asamatteroffact,whenIsaidgoodbyeIsaidI’dringherupsoonandwe’ddoashowtogether.”
“Yousaidyou’dringherup.Thosewereyourlastwords?”
“Yes.”
“Curious.Ihaveinformationthatyousaidsomethingquitedifferent.”
Eustacechangedcolour.
“Well,ofcourse,Ican’tremembertheexactwords.”
“Myinformationisthatwhatyouactuallysaidwas,‘Well,thinkitoverandletmeknow.’”
“Letmesee,yesIbelieveyou’reright.Notexactlythat.IthinkIwassuggestingsheshouldletmeknowwhenshewasfree.”
“Notquitethesamething,isit?”saidJapp.
MajorEustaceshruggedhisshoulders.
“Mydearfellow,youcan’texpectamantorememberwordforwordwhathesaidonanygivenoccasion.”
“AndwhatdidMrs.Allenreply?”
“Shesaidshe’dgivemearing.Thatis,asnearasIcanremember.”
“Andthenyousaid,‘Allright.Solong.’”
“Probably.Somethingofthekindanyway.”
Jappsaidquietly:
“YousaythatMrs.Allenaskedyoutoadviseheraboutherinvestments.Didshe,byanychance,entrustyouwiththesumoftwohundredpoundsincashtoinvestforher?”
Eustace’sfaceflushedadarkpurple.Heleanedforwardandgrowledout:
“Whatthedevildoyoumeanbythat?”
“Didsheordidshenot?”
“That’smybusiness,Mr.ChiefInspector.”
Jappsaidquietly:
“Mrs.Allendrewoutthesumoftwohundredpoundsincashfromherbank.Someofthemoneywasinfive-poundnotes.Thenumbersofthesecan,ofcourse,betraced.”
“Whatifshedid?”
“Wasthemoneyforinvestment—orwasit—blackmail,MajorEustace?”
“That’sapreposterousidea.Whatnextwillyousuggest?”
Jappsaidinhismostofficialmanner:
“Ithink,MajorEustace,thatatthispointImustaskyouifyouarewillingtocometoScotlandYardandmakeastatement.Thereis,ofcourse,nocompulsionandyoucan,ifyoupreferit,haveyoursolicitorpresent.”
“Solicitor?WhatthedevilshouldIwantwithasolicitor?Andwhatareyoucautioningmefor?”
“IaminquiringintothecircumstancesofthedeathofMrs.Allen.”
“GoodGod,man,youdon’tsuppose—Why,that’snonsense!Lookhere,whathappenedwasthis.IcalledroundtoseeBarbarabyappointment….”
“Thatwasatwhattime?”
“Atabouthalfpastnine,Ishouldsay.Wesatandtalked….”
“Andsmoked?”
“Yes,andsmoked.Anythingdamaginginthat?”demandedthemajorbelligerently.
“Wheredidthisconversationtakeplace?”
“Inthesittingroom.Leftofthedoorasyougoin.Wetalkedtogetherquiteamicably,asIsay.Ileftalittlebeforehalfpastten.Istayedforaminuteonthedoorstepforafewlastwords….”
“Lastwords—precisely,”murmuredPoirot.
“Whoareyou,I’dliketoknow?”Eustaceturnedandspartthewordsathim.“Somekindofdamneddago!Whatareyoubuttinginfor?”
“IamHerculePoirot,”saidthelittlemanwithdignity.
“Idon’tcareifyouaretheAchillesstatue.AsIsay,BarbaraandIpartedquiteamicably.IdrovestraighttotheFarEastClub.Gotthereatfiveandtwentytoelevenandwentstraightuptothecard-room.Stayedthereplayingbridgeuntilone-thirty.Nowthen,putthatinyourpipeandsmokeit.”
“Idonotsmokethepipe,”saidPoirot.“Itisaprettyalibiyouhavethere.”
“Itshouldbeaprettycastirononeanyway!Nowthen,sir,”helookedatJapp.“Areyousatisfied?”
“Youremainedinthesittingroomthroughoutyourvisit?”
“Yes.”
“YoudidnotgoupstairstoMrs.Allen’sownboudoir?”
“No,Itellyou.Westayedintheoneroomanddidn’tleaveit.”
Japplookedathimthoughtfullyforaminuteortwo.Thenhesaid:
“Howmanysetsofcufflinkshaveyou?”
“Cufflinks?Cufflinks?What’sthatgottodowithit?”
“Youarenotboundtoanswerthequestion,ofcourse.”
“Answerit?Idon’tmindansweringit.I’vegotnothingtohide.AndIshalldemandanapology.Therearethese…”hestretchedouthisarms.
Jappnotedthegoldandplatinumwithanod.
“AndI’vegotthese.”
Herose,openedadrawerandtakingoutacase,heopeneditandshoveditrudelyalmostunderJapp’snose.
“Verynicedesign,”saidthechiefinspector.“Iseeoneisbroken—bitofenamelchippedoff.”
“Whatofit?”
“Youdon’trememberwhenthathappened,Isuppose?”
“Adayortwoago,notlonger.”
“WouldyoubesurprisedtohearthatithappenedwhenyouwerevisitingMrs.Allen?”
“Whyshouldn’tit?I’venotdeniedthatIwasthere.”Themajorspokehaughtily.Hecontinuedtobluster,toactthepartofthejustlyindignantman,buthishandsweretrembling.
Jappleanedforwardandsaidwithemphasis:
“Yes,butthatbitofcufflinkwasn’tfoundinthesittingroom.ItwasfoundupstairsinMrs.Allen’sboudoir—thereintheroomwhereshewaskilled,andwhereamansatsmokingthesamekindofcigarettesasyousmoke.”
Theshottold.Eustacefellbackintohischair.Hiseyeswentfromsidetoside.Thecollapseofthebullyandtheappearanceofthecravenwasnotaprettysight.
“You’vegotnothingonme.”Hisvoicewasalmostawhine.“You’retryingtoframeme…Butyoucan’tdoit.I’vegotanalibi…Inevercamenearthehouseagainthatnight….”
Poirotinhisturn,spoke.
“No,youdidnotcomenearthehouseagain…Youdidnotneedto…ForperhapsMrs.Allenwasalreadydeadwhenyouleftit.”
“That’simpossible—impossible—Shewasjustinsidethedoor—shespoketome—Peoplemusthaveheardher—seenher….”
Poirotsaidsoftly:
“Theyheardyouspeakingtoher…andpretendingtowaitforheranswerandthenspeakingagain…Itisanoldtrickthat…Peoplemayhaveassumedshewasthere,buttheydidnotseeher,becausetheycouldnotevensaywhethershewaswearingeveningdressornot—notevenmentionwhatcolourshewaswearing….”
“MyGod—itisn’ttrue—itisn’ttrue—”
Hewasshakingnow—collapsed….
Japplookedathimwithdisgust.Hespokecrisply.
“I’llhavetoaskyou,sir,tocomewithme.”
“You’rearrestingme?”
“Detainedforinquiry—we’llputitthatway.”
Thesilencewasbrokenwithalong,shudderingsigh.ThedespairingvoiceoftheerstwhileblusteringMajorEustacesaid:
“I’msunk….”
HerculePoirotrubbedhishandstogetherandsmiledcheerfully.Heseemedtobeenjoyinghimself.
Nine
“Prettythewayhewentalltopieces,”saidJappwithprofessionalappreciation,laterthatday.
HeandPoirotweredrivinginacaralongtheBromptonRoad.
“Heknewthegamewasup,”saidPoirotabsently.
“We’vegotplentyonhim,”saidJapp.“Twoorthreedifferentaliases,atrickybusinessoveracheque,andaveryniceaffairwhenhestayedattheRitzandcalledhimselfColoneldeBathe.SwindledhalfadozenPiccadillytradesmen.We’reholdinghimonthatchargeforthemoment—untilwegetthisaffairfinallysquaredup.What’stheideaofthisrushtothecountry,oldman?”
“Myfriend,anaffairmustberoundedoffproperly.Everythingmustbeexplained.Iamonthequestofthemysteryyousuggested.TheMysteryoftheMissingAttachéCase.”
“TheMysteryoftheSmallAttachéCase—that’swhatIcalledit—Itisn’tmissingthatIknowof.”
“Wait,monami.”
Thecarturnedintothemews.AtthedoorofNo.14,JanePlenderleithwasjustalightingfromasmallAustinSeven.Shewasingolfingclothes.
Shelookedfromonetotheotherofthetwomen,thenproducedakeyandopenedthedoor.
“Comein,won’tyou?”
Sheledtheway.Jappfollowedherintothesittingroom.Poirotremainedforaminuteortwointhehall,mutteringsomethingabout:
“C’estembêtant—howdifficulttogetoutofthesesleeves.”
InamomentortwohealsoenteredthesittingroomminushisovercoatbutJapp’slipstwitchedunderhismoustache.Hehadheardtheveryfaintsqueakofanopeningcupboarddoor.
JappthrewPoirotaninquiringglanceandtheothergaveahardlyperceptiblenod.
“Wewon’tdetainyou,MissPlenderleith,”saidJappbriskly.
“OnlycametoaskifyoucouldtellusthenameofMrs.Allen’ssolicitor.”
“Hersolicitor?”Thegirlshookherhead.“Idon’tevenknowthatshehadone.”
“Well,whensherentedthishousewithyou,someonemusthavedrawnuptheagreement?”
“No,Idon’tthinkso.Yousee,Itookthehouse,theleaseisinmyname.Barbarapaidmehalftherent.Itwasquiteinformal.”
“Isee.Oh!well,Isupposethere’snothingdoingthen.”
“I’msorryIcan’thelpyou,”saidJanepolitely.
“Itdoesn’treallymatterverymuch.”Jappturnedtowardsthedoor.“Beenplayinggolf?”
“Yes.”Sheflushed.“Isupposeitseemsratherheartlesstoyou.Butasamatteroffactitgotmedownrather,beinghereinthishouse.IfeltImustgooutanddosomething—tiremyself—orI’dchoke!”
Shespokewithintensity.
Poirotsaidquickly:
“Icomprehend,mademoiselle.Itismostunderstandable—mostnatural.Tositinthishouseandthink—no,itwouldnotbepleasant.”
“Solongasyouunderstand,”saidJaneshortly.
“Youbelongtoaclub?”
“Yes,IplayatWentworth.”
“Ithasbeenapleasantday,”saidPoirot.
“Alas,therearefewleavesleftonthetreesnow!Aweekagothewoodsweremagnificent.”
“Itwasquitelovelytoday.”
“Goodafternoon,MissPlenderleith,”saidJappformally.“I’llletyouknowwhenthere’sanythingdefinite.Asamatteroffactwehavegotamandetainedonsuspicion.”
“Whatman?”
Shelookedatthemeagerly.
“MajorEustace.”
Shenoddedandturnedaway,stoopingdowntoputamatchtothefire.
“Well?”saidJappasthecarturnedthecornerofthemews.
Poirotgrinned.
“Itwasquitesimple.Thekeywasinthedoorthistime.”
“And—?”
Poirotsmiled.
“Eh,bien,thegolfclubshadgone—”
“Naturally.Thegirlisn’tafool,whateverelsesheis.Anythingelsegone?”
Poirotnoddedhishead.
“Yes,myfriend—thelittleattachécase!”
TheacceleratorleapedunderJapp’sfoot.
“Damnation!”hesaid.“Iknewtherewassomething.Butwhatthedevilisit?Isearchedthatcaseprettythoroughly.”
“MypoorJapp—butitis—howdoyousay,‘obvious,mydearWatson?’”
Jappthrewhimanexasperatedlook.
“Wherearewegoing?”heasked.
Poirotconsultedhiswatch.
“Itisnotyetfouro’clock.WecouldgettoWentworth,Ithink,beforeitisdark.”
“Doyouthinkshereallywentthere?”
“Ithinkso—yes.Shewouldknowthatwemightmakeinquiries.Oh,yes,Ithinkwewillfindthatshehasbeenthere.”
Jappgrunted.
“Ohwell,comeon.”Hethreadedhiswaydexterouslythroughthetraffic.“ThoughwhatthisattachécasebusinesshastodowiththecrimeIcan’timagine.Ican’tseethatit’sgotanythingatalltodowithit.”
“Precisely,myfriend,Iagreewithyou—ithasnothingtodowithit.”
“Thenwhy—No,don’ttellme!Orderandmethodandeverythingnicelyroundedoff!Oh,well,it’safineday.”
Thecarwasafastone.TheyarrivedatWentworthGolfClubalittleafterhalfpastfour.Therewasnogreatcongestionthereonaweekday.
Poirotwentstraighttothecaddie-masterandaskedforMissPlenderleith’sclubs.Shewouldbeplayingonadifferentcoursetomorrow,heexplained.
Thecaddiemasterraisedhisvoiceandaboysortedthroughsomegolfclubsstandinginacorner.Hefinallyproducedabagbearingtheinitials,J.P.
“Thankyou,”saidPoirot.Hemovedaway,thenturnedcarelesslyandasked,“Shedidnotleavewithyouasmallattachécasealso,didshe?”
“Nottoday,sir.Mayhaveleftitintheclubhouse.”
“Shewasdownheretoday?”
“Oh,yes,Isawher.”
“Whichcaddiedidshehave,doyouknow?She’smislaidanattachécaseandcan’trememberwhereshehaditlast.”
“Shedidn’ttakeacaddie.Shecameinhereandboughtacoupleofballs.Justtookoutacoupleofirons.Iratherfancyshehadalittlecaseinherhandthen.”
Poirotturnedawaywithawordofthanks.Thetwomenwalkedroundtheclubhouse.Poirotstoodamomentadmiringtheview.
“Itisbeautiful,isitnot,thedarkpinetrees—andthenthelake.Yes,thelake—”
Jappgavehimaquickglance.
“That’stheidea,isit?”
Poirotsmiled.
“Ithinkitpossiblethatsomeonemayhaveseensomething.IshouldsettheinquiriesinmotionifIwereyou.”
Ten
I
Poirotsteppedback,hisheadalittleononesideashesurveyedthearrangementoftheroom.Achairhere—anotherchairthere.Yes,thatwasverynice.Andnowaringatthebell—thatwouldbeJapp.
TheScotlandYardmancameinalertly.
“Quiteright,oldcock!Straightfromthehorse’smouth.AyoungwomanwasseentothrowsomethingintothelakeatWentworthyesterday.DescriptionofheranswerstoJanePlenderleith.Wemanagedtofishitupwithoutmuchdifficulty.Alotofreedsjustthere.”
“Anditwas?”
“Itwastheattachécaseallright!Butwhy,inheaven’sname?Well,itbeatsme!Nothinginsideit—noteventhemagazines.Whyapresumablysaneyoungwomanshouldwanttoflinganexpensively-fitteddressingcaseintoalake—d’youknow,IworriedallnightbecauseIcouldn’tgetthehangofit.”
“MonpauvreJapp!Butyouneedworrynolonger.Hereistheanswercoming.Thebellhasjustrung.”
George,Poirot’simmaculatemanservant,openedthedoorandannounced:
“MissPlenderleith.”
Thegirlcameintotheroomwithherusualairofcompleteself-assurance.Shegreetedthetwomen.
“Iaskedyoutocomehere—”explainedPoirot.“Sithere,willyounot,andyouhere,Japp—becauseIhavecertainnewstogiveyou.”
Thegirlsatdown.Shelookedfromonetotheother,pushingasideherhat.Shetookitoffandlaiditasideimpatiently.
“Well,”shesaid.“MajorEustacehasbeenarrested.”
“Yousawthat,Iexpect,inthemorningpaper?”
“Yes.”
“Heisatthemomentchargedwithaminoroffence,”wentonPoirot.“Inthemeantimewearegatheringevidenceinconnectionwiththemurder.”
“Itwasmurder,then?”
Thegirlaskediteagerly.
Poirotnoddedhishead.
“Yes,”hesaid.“Itwasmurder.Thewilfuldestructionofonehumanbeingbyanotherhumanbeing.”
Sheshiveredalittle.
“Don’t,”shemurmured.“Itsoundshorriblewhenyousayitlikethat.”
“Yes—butitishorrible!”
Hepaused—thenhesaid:
“Now,MissPlenderleith,IamgoingtotellyoujusthowIarrivedatthetruthinthismatter.”
ShelookedfromPoirottoJapp.Thelatterwassmiling.
“Hehashismethods,MissPlenderleith,”hesaid.“Ihumourhim,youknow.Ithinkwe’lllistentowhathehastosay.”
Poirotbegan:
“Asyouknow,mademoiselle,IarrivedwithmyfriendatthesceneofthecrimeonthemorningofNovemberthesixth.WewentintotheroomwherethebodyofMrs.AllenhadbeenfoundandIwasstruckatoncebyseveralsignificantdetails.Therewerethings,yousee,inthatroomthatweredecidedlyodd.”
“Goon,”saidthegirl.
“Tobeginwith,”saidPoirot,“therewasthesmellofcigarettesmoke.”
“Ithinkyou’reexaggeratingthere,Poirot,”saidJapp.“Ididn’tsmellanything.”
Poirotturnedonhiminaflash.
“Precisely.Youdidnotsmellanystalesmoke.NomoredidI.Andthatwasvery,verystrange—forthedoorandthewindowwerebothclosedandonanashtraytherewerethestubsofnofewerthantencigarettes.Itwasodd,veryodd,thattheroomshouldsmell—asitdid,perfectlyfresh.”
“Sothat’swhatyouweregettingat!”Jappsighed.“Alwayshavetogetatthingsinsuchatortuousway.”
“YourSherlockHolmesdidthesame.Hedrewattention,remember,tothecuriousincidentofthedoginthenight-time—andtheanswertothatwastherewasnocuriousincident.Thedogdidnothinginthenighttime.Toproceed:
“Thenextthingthatattractedmyattentionwasawristwatchwornbythedeadwoman.”
“Whataboutit?”
“Nothingparticularaboutit,butitwaswornontherightwrist.Nowinmyexperienceitismoreusualforawatchtobewornontheleftwrist.”
Jappshruggedhisshoulders.Beforehecouldspeak,Poirothurriedon:
“Butasyousay,thereisnothingverydefiniteaboutthat.Somepeopleprefertowearoneontherighthand.AndnowIcometosomethingreallyinteresting—Icome,myfriends,tothewritingbureau.”
“Yes,Iguessedthat,”saidJapp.
“Thatwasreallyveryodd—veryremarkable!Fortworeasons.Thefirstreasonwasthatsomethingwasmissingfromthatwritingtable.”
JanePlenderleithspoke.
“Whatwasmissing?”
Poirotturnedtoher.
“Asheetofblottingpaper,mademoiselleTheblottingbookhadontopaclean,untouchedpieceofblottingpaper.”
Janeshruggedhershoulders.
“Really,M.Poirot.Peopledooccasionallytearoffaverymuchusedsheet!”
“Yes,butwhatdotheydowithit?Throwitintothewaste-paperbasket,dotheynot?ButitwasnotinthewastepaperbasketIlooked.”
JanePlenderleithseemedimpatient.
“Becauseithadprobablybeenalreadythrownawaythedaybefore.ThesheetwascleanbecauseBarbarahadn’twrittenanylettersthatday.”
“Thatcouldhardlybethecase,mademoiselle.ForMrs.Allenwasseengoingtothepostboxthatevening.Thereforeshemusthavebeenwritingletters.Shecouldnotwritedownstairs—therewerenowritingmaterials.Shewouldbehardlylikelytogotoyourroomtowrite.So,then,whathadhappenedtothesheetofpaperonwhichshehadblottedherletters?Itistruethatpeoplesometimesthrowthingsinthefireinsteadofthewastepaperbasket,buttherewasonlyagasfireintheroom.Andthefiredownstairshadnotbeenalightthepreviousday,sinceyoutoldmeitwasalllaidreadywhenyouputamatchtoit.”
Hepaused.
“Acuriouslittleproblem.Ilookedeverywhere,inthewastepaperbaskets,inthedustbin,butIcouldnotfindasheetofusedblottingpaper—andthatseemedtomeveryimportant.Itlookedasthoughsomeonehaddeliberatelytakenthatsheetofblottingpaperaway.Why?Becausetherewaswritingonitthatcouldeasilyhavebeenreadbyholdingituptoamirror.
“Buttherewasasecondcuriouspointaboutthewritingtable.Perhaps,Japp,yourememberroughlythearrangementofit?Blotterandinkstandinthecentre,pentraytotheleft,calendarandquillpentotheright.Ehbien?Youdonotsee?Thequillpen,remember,Iexamined,itwasforshowonly—ithadnotbeenused.Ah!stillyoudonotsee?Iwillsayitagain.Blotterinthecentre,pentraytotheleft—totheleft,Japp.Butisitnotusualtofindapentrayontheright,convenienttotherighthand?
“Ah,nowitcomestoyou,doesitnot?Thepentrayontheleft—thewristwatchontherightwrist—theblottingpaperremoved—andsomethingelsebroughtintotheroom—theashtraywiththecigaretteends!
“Thatroomwasfreshandpuresmelling,Japp,aroominwhichthewindowhadbeenopen,notclosedallnight…AndImademyselfapicture.”
HespunroundandfacedJane.
“Apictureofyou,mademoiselle,drivingupinyourtaxi,payingitoff,runningupthestairs,callingperhaps,‘Barbara’—andyouopenthedoorandyoufindyourfriendtherelyingdeadwiththepistolclaspedinherhand—thelefthand,naturally,sincesheisleft-handedandtherefore,too,thebullethasenteredontheleftsideofthehead.Thereisanotethereaddressedtoyou.Ittellsyouwhatitisthathasdrivenhertotakeherownlife.Itwas,Ifancy,averymovingletter…Ayoung,gentle,unhappywomandrivenbyblackmailtotakeherlife….
“Ithinkthat,almostatonce,theideaflashedintoyourhead.Thiswasacertainman’sdoing.Lethimbepunished—fullyandadequatelypunished!Youtakethepistol,wipeitandplaceitintherighthand.Youtakethenoteandyoutearoffthetopsheetoftheblottingpaperonwhichthenotehasbeenblotted.Yougodown,lightthefireandputthembothontheflames.Thenyoucarryuptheashtray—tofurthertheillusionthattwopeoplesattheretalking—andyoualsotakeupafragmentofenamelcufflinkthatisonthefloor.Thatisaluckyfindandyouexpectittoclinchmatters.Thenyouclosethewindowandlockthedoor.Theremustbenosuspicionthatyouhavetamperedwiththeroom.Thepolicemustseeitexactlyasitis—soyoudonotseekhelpinthemewsbutringupthepolicestraightaway.
“Andsoitgoeson.Youplayyourchosenr?lewithjudgmentandcoolness.Yourefuseatfirsttosayanythingbutcleverlyyousuggestdoubtsofsuicide.LateryouarequitereadytosetusonthetrailofMajorEustace….
“Yes,mademoiselle,itwasclever—averyclevermurder—forthatiswhatitis.TheattemptedmurderofMajorEustace.”
JanePlenderleithsprangtoherfeet.
“Itwasn’tmurder—itwasjustice.ThatmanhoundedpoorBarbaratoherdeath!Shewassosweetandhelpless.Yousee,poorkid,shegotinvolvedwithamaninIndiawhenshefirstwentout.Shewasonlyseventeenandhewasamarriedmanyearsolderthanher.Thenshehadababy.Shecouldhaveputitinahomebutshewouldn’thearofthat.ShewentofftosomeoutofthewayspotandcamebackcallingherselfMrs.Allen.Laterthechilddied.ShecamebackhereandshefellinlovewithCharles—thatpompous,stuffedowl;sheadoredhim—andhetookheradorationverycomplacently.IfhehadbeenadifferentkindofmanI’dhaveadvisedhertotellhimeverything.Butasitwas,Iurgedhertoholdhertongue.Afterall,nobodyknewanythingaboutthatbusinessexceptme.
“AndthenthatdevilEustaceturnedup!Youknowtherest.Hebegantobleedhersystematically,butitwasn’ttillthatlasteveningthatsherealisedthatshewasexposingCharlestoo,totheriskofscandal.OncemarriedtoCharles,Eustacehadgotherwherehewantedher—marriedtoarichmanwithahorrorofanyscandal!WhenEustacehadgonewiththemoneyshehadgotforhimshesatthinkingitover.Thenshecameupandwrotealettertome.ShesaidshelovedCharlesandcouldn’tlivewithouthim,butthatforhisownsakeshemustn’tmarryhim.Shewastakingthebestwayout,shesaid.”
Janeflungherheadback.
“DoyouwonderIdidwhatIdid?Andyoustandtherecallingitmurder!”
“Becauseitismurder,”Poirot’svoicewasstern.“Murdercansometimesseemjustified,butitismurderallthesame.Youaretruthfulandclear-minded—facethetruth,mademoiselle!Yourfrienddied,inthelastresort,becauseshehadnotthecouragetoliveWemaysympathizewithher.Wemaypityher.Butthefactremains—theactwashers—notanother.”
Hepaused.
“Andyou?Thatmanisnowinprison,hewillservealongsentenceforothermatters.Doyoureallywish,ofyourownvolition,todestroythelife—thelife,mind—ofanyhumanbeing?”
Shestaredathim.Hereyesdarkened.Suddenlyshemuttered:
“No.You’reright.Idon’t.”
Then,turningonherheel,shewentswiftlyfromtheroom.Theouterdoorbanged….
II
Jappgavealong—averyprolonged—whistle.
“Well,I’mdamned!”hesaid.
Poirotsatdownandsmiledathimamiably.Itwasquitealongtimebeforethesilencewasbroken.ThenJappsaid:
“Notmurderdisguisedassuicide,butsuicidemadetolooklikemurder!”
“Yes,andverycleverlydone,too.Nothingoveremphasized.”
Jappsaidsuddenly:
“Buttheattachécase?Wheredidthatcomein?”
“But,mydear,myverydearfriend,Ihavealreadytoldyouthatitdidnotcomein.”
“Thenwhy—”
“Thegolfclubs.Thegolfclubs,Japp.Theywerethegolfclubsofaleft-handedperson.JanePlenderleithkeptherclubsatWentworth.ThosewereBarbaraAllen’sclubs.Nowonderthegirlgot,asyousay,thewindupwhenweopenedthatcupboard.Herwholeplanmighthavebeenruined.Butsheisquick,sherealizedthatshehad,foroneshortmoment,givenherselfaway.Shesawthatwesaw.Soshedoesthebestthingshecanthinkofonthespurofthemoment.Shetriestofocusourattentiononthewrongobject.Shesaysoftheattachécase‘That’smine.I—itcamebackwithmethismorning.Sotherecan’tbeanythingthere.’And,asshehoped,awayyougoonthefalsetrail.Forthesamereason,whenshesetsoutthefollowingdaytogetridofthegolfclubs,shecontinuestousetheattachécaseasa—whatisit—kipperedherring?”
“Redherring.Doyoumeanthatherrealobjectwas—?”
“Consider,myfriend.Whereisthebestplacetogetridofabagofgolfclubs?Onecannotburnthemorputtheminadustbin.Ifoneleavesthemsomewheretheymaybereturnedtoyou.MissPlenderleithtookthemtoagolfcourse.Sheleavesthemintheclubhousewhileshegetsacoupleofironsfromherownbag,andthenshegoesroundwithoutacaddy.Doubtlessatjudiciousintervalsshebreaksaclubinhalfandthrowsitintosomedeepundergrowth,andendsbythrowingtheemptybagaway.Ifanyoneshouldfindabrokengolfclubhereandthereitwillnotcreatesurprise.Peoplehavebeenknowntobreakandthrowawayalltheirclubsinamoodofintenseexasperationoverthegame!Itis,infact,thatkindofgame!
“Butsincesherealizesthatheractionsmaystillbeamatterofinterest,shethrowsthatusefulredherring—theattachécase—inasomewhatspectacularmannerintothelake—andthat,myfriend,isthetruthof‘TheMysteryoftheAttachéCase.’”
Japplookedathisfriendforsomemomentsinsilence.Thenherose,clappedhimontheshoulder,andburstoutlaughing.
“Notsobadforanolddog!Uponmyword,youtakethecake!Comeoutandhaveaspotoflunch?”
“Withpleasure,myfriend,butwewillnothavethecake.Indeed,anOmeletteauxChampignons,BlanquettedeVeau,PetitspoisàlaFrancaise,and—tofollow—aBabaauRhum.”
“Leadmetoit,”saidJapp.
THEINCREDIBLETHEFT
One
Asthebutlerhandedroundthesoufflé,LordMayfieldleanedconfidentiallytowardshisneighbourontheright,LadyJuliaCarrington.Knownasaperfecthost,LordMayfieldtooktroubletoliveuptohisreputation.Althoughunmarried,hewasalwayscharmingtowomen.
LadyJuliaCarringtonwasawomanofforty,tall,darkandvivacious.Shewasverythin,butstillbeautiful.Herhandsandfeetinparticularwereexquisite.Hermannerwasabruptandrestless,thatofawomanwholivedonhernerves
Aboutoppositetoherattheroundtablesatherhusband,AirMarshalSirGeorgeCarrington.HiscareerhadbegunintheNavy,andhestillretainedthebluffbreezinessoftheex-Navalman.HewaslaughingandchaffingthebeautifulMrs.Vanderlyn,whowassittingontheothersideofherhost.
Mrs.Vanderlynwasanextremelygood-lookingblonde.Hervoiceheldasoup?onofAmericanaccent,justenoughtobepleasantwithoutundueexaggeration.
OntheothersideofSirGeorgeCarringtonsatMrs.Macatta,M.P.Mrs.MacattawasagreatauthorityonHousingandInfantWelfare.Shebarkedoutshortsentencesratherthanspokethem,andwasgenerallyofsomewhatalarmingaspect.ItwasperhapsnaturalthattheAirMarshalwouldfindhisright-handneighbourthepleasantertotalkto.
Mrs.Macatta,whoalwaystalkedshopwherevershewas,barkedoutshortspatesofinformationonherspecialsubjectstoherleft-handneighbour,youngReggieCarrington.
ReggieCarringtonwastwenty-one,andcompletelyuninterestedinHousing,InfantWelfare,andindeedanypoliticalsubject.Hesaidatintervals,“Howfrightful!”and“Iabsolutelyagreewithyou,”andhismindwasclearlyelsewhere.Mr.Carlile,LordMayfield’sprivatesecretary,satbetweenyoungReggieandhismother.Apaleyoungmanwithpince-nezandanairofintelligentreserve,hetalkedlittle,butwasalwaysreadytoflinghimselfintoanyconversationalbreach.NoticingthatReggieCarringtonwasstrugglingwithayawn,heleanedforwardandadroitlyaskedMrs.Macattaaquestionabouther“FitnessforChildren”scheme.
Roundthetable,movingsilentlyinthesubduedamberlight,abutlerandtwofootmenoffereddishesandfilledupwineglasses.LordMayfieldpaidaveryhighsalarytohischef,andwasnotedasaconnoisseurofwines.
Thetablewasaroundone,buttherewasnomistakingwhowasthehost.WhereLordMayfieldsatwassoverydecidedlytheheadofthetable.Abigman,square-shouldered,withthicksilveryhair,abigstraightnoseandaslightlyprominentchin.Itwasafacethatlentitselfeasilytocaricature.AsSirCharlesMcLaughlin,LordMayfieldhadcombinedapoliticalcareerwithbeingtheheadofabigengineeringfirm.Hewashimselfafirst-classengineer.Hispeeragehadcomeayearago,andatthesametimehehadbeencreatedfirstMinisterofArmaments,anewministrywhichhadonlyjustcomeintobeing.
Thedesserthadbeenplacedonthetable.Theporthadcirculatedonce.CatchingMrs.Vanderlyn’seye,LadyJuliarose.Thethreewomenlefttheroom.
Theportpassedoncemore,andLordMayfieldreferredlightlytopheasants.Theconversationforfiveminutesorsowassporting.ThenSirGeorgesaid:
“Expectyou’dliketojointheothersinthedrawingroom,Reggie,myboy.LordMayfieldwon’tmind.”
Theboytookthehinteasilyenough.
“Thanks,LordMayfield,IthinkIwill.”
Mr.Carlilemumured:
“Ifyou’llexcuseme,LordMayfield—certainmemorandaandotherworktogetthrough….”
LordMayfieldnodded.Thetwoyoungmenlefttheroom.Theservantshadretiredsometimebefore.TheMinisterforArmamentsandtheheadoftheAirForcewerealone.
Afteraminuteortwo,Carringtonsaid:
“Well—O.K.?”
“Absolutely!There’snothingtotouchthisnewbomberinanycountryinEurope.”
“Makeringsround’em,eh?That’swhatIthought.”
“Supremacyoftheair,”saidLordMayfielddecisively.
SirGeorgeCarringtongaveadeepsigh.
“Abouttime!Youknow,Charles,we’vebeenthroughaticklishspell.LotsofgunpowdereverywherealloverEurope.Andweweren’tready,damnit!We’vehadanarrowsqueak.Andwe’renotoutofthewoodyet,howevermuchwehurryonconstruction.”
LordMayfieldmurmured:
“Nevertheless,George,therearesomeadvantagesinstartinglate.AlotoftheEuropeanstuffisoutofdatealready—andthey’reperilouslynearbankruptcy.”
“Idon’tbelievethatmeansanything,”saidSirGeorgegloomily.“One’salwayshearingthisnationandthatisbankrupt!Buttheycarryonjustthesame.Youknow,financeisanabsolutemysterytome.”
LordMayfield’seyestwinkledalittle.SirGeorgeCarringtonwasalwayssoverymuchtheold-fashioned“bluff,honestoldseadog.”Therewerepeoplewhosaidthatitwasaposehedeliberatelyadopted.
Changingthesubject,Carringtonsaidinaslightlyovercasualmanner:
“Attractivewoman,Mrs.Vanderlyn—eh?”
LordMayfieldsaid:
“Areyouwonderingwhatshe’sdoinghere?”
Hiseyeswereamused.
Carringtonlookedalittleconfused.
“Notatall—notatall.”
“Oh,yes,youwere!Don’tbeanoldhumbug,George.Youwerewondering,inaslightlydismayedfashion,whetherIwasthelatestvictim!”
Carringtonsaidslowly:
“I’lladmitthatitdidseematrifleoddtomethatsheshouldbehere—well,thisparticularweekend.”
LordMayfieldnodded.
“Wherethecarcassis,therearethevulturesgatheredtogether.We’vegotaverydefinitecarcass,andMrs.VanderlynmightbedescribedasVultureNo.1.”
TheAirMarshalsaidabruptly:
“KnowanythingaboutthisVanderlynwoman?”
LordMayfieldclippedofftheendofacigar,lititwithprecisionand,throwinghisheadback,droppedouthiswordswithcarefuldeliberation.
“WhatdoIknowaboutMrs.Vanderlyn?Iknowthatshe’sanAmericansubject.Iknowthatshe’shadthreehusbands,oneItalian,oneGermanandoneRussian,andthatinconsequenceshehasmadeusefulwhatIthinkarecalled‘contacts’inthreecountries.Iknowthatshemanagestobuyveryexpensiveclothesandliveinaveryluxuriousmanner,andthatthereissomeslightuncertaintyastowheretheincomecomesfromwhichpermitshertodoso.”
Withagrin,SirGeorgeCarringtonmurmured:
“Yourspieshavenotbeeninactive,Charles,Isee.”
“Iknow,”LordMayfieldcontinued,“thatinadditiontohavingaseductivetypeofbeauty,Mrs.Vanderlynisalsoaverygoodlistener,andthatshecandisplayafascinatinginterestinwhatwecall‘shop.’Thatistosay,amancantellherallabouthisjobandfeelthatheisbeingintenselyinterestingtothelady!Sundryyoungofficershavegonealittletoofarintheirzealtobeinteresting,andtheircareershavesufferedinconsequence.TheyhavetoldMrs.Vanderlynalittlemorethantheyshouldhavedone.Nearlyallthelady’sfriendsareintheServices—butlastwintershewashuntinginacertaincountynearoneofourlargestarmamentfirms,andsheformedvariousfriendshipsnotatallsportingincharacter.Toputitbriefly,Mrs.Vanderlynisaveryusefulpersonto…”Hedescribedacircleintheairwithhiscigar.“Perhapswehadbetternotsaytowhom!WewilljustsaytoaEuropeanpower—andperhapstomorethanoneEuropeanpower.”
Carringtondrewadeepbreath.
“Youtakeagreatloadoffmymind,Charles.”
“YouthoughtIhadfallenforthesiren?MydearGeorge!Mrs.Vanderlynisjustalittletooobviousinhermethodsforawaryoldbirdlikeme.Besides,sheis,astheysay,notquitesoyoungassheoncewas.Youryoungsquadronleaderswouldn’tnoticethat.ButIamfifty-six,myboy.InanotherfouryearsIshallprobablybeanastyoldmancontinuallyhauntingthesocietyofunwillingdebutantes.”
“Iwasafool,”saidCarringtonapologetically,“butitseemedabitodd—”
“Itseemedtoyouoddthatsheshouldbehere,inasomewhatintimatefamilypartyjustatthemomentwhenyouandIweretoholdanunofficialconferenceoveradiscoverythatwillprobablyrevolutionizethewholeproblemofairdefence?”
SirGeorgeCarringtonnodded.
LordMayfieldsaid,smiling:
“That’sexactlyit.That’sthebait.”
“Thebait?”
“Yousee,George,tousethelanguageofthemovies,we’venothingactually‘on’thewoman.Andwewantsomething!She’sgotawaywithrathermorethansheshouldinthepast.Butshe’sbeencareful—damnablycareful.Weknowwhatshe’sbeenupto,butwe’vegotnodefiniteproofofit.We’vegottotemptherwithsomethingbig.”
“Somethingbigbeingthespecificationofthenewbomber?”
“Exactly.It’sgottobesomethingbigenoughtoinducehertotakearisk—tocomeoutintotheopen.Andthen—we’vegother!”
SirGeorgegrunted.
“Oh,well,”hesaid.“Idaresayit’sallright.Butsupposeshewon’ttaketherisk?”
“Thatwouldbeapity,”saidLordMayfield.Thenheadded:“ButIthinkshewill….”
Herose.
“Shallwejointheladiesinthedrawingroom?Wemustn’tdepriveyourwifeofherbridge.”
SirGeorgegrunted:
“Julia’sadamnedsighttoofondofherbridge.Dropsapacketoverit.Shecan’taffordtoplayashighasshedoes,andI’vetoldherso.Thetroubleis,Julia’saborngambler.”
Comingroundthetabletojoinhishost,hesaid:
“Well,Ihopeyourplancomesoff,Charles.”
Two
Inthedrawingroomconversationhadflaggedmorethanonce.Mrs.Vanderlynwasusuallyatadisadvantagewhenleftalonewithmembersofherownsex.Thatcharmingsympatheticmannerofhers,somuchappreciatedbymembersofthemalesex,didnotforsomereasonorothercommenditselftowomen.LadyJuliawasawomanwhosemannerswereeitherverygoodorverybad.OnthisoccasionshedislikedMrs.Vanderlyn,andwasboredbyMrs.Macatta,andmadenosecretofherfeelings.Conversationlanguished,andmighthaveceasedaltogetherbutforthelatter.
Mrs.Macattawasawomanofgreatearnestnessofpurpose.Mrs.Vanderlynshedismissedimmediatelyasauselessandparasitictype.LadyJuliashetriedtointerestinaforthcomingcharityentertainmentwhichshewasorganizing.LadyJuliaansweredvaguely,stifledayawnortwoandretiredintoherowninnerpreoccupation.Whydidn’tCharlesandGeorgecome?Howtiresomemenwere.Hercommentsbecameevenmoreperfunctoryasshebecameabsorbedinherownthoughtsandworries.
Thethreewomenweresittinginsilencewhenthemenfinallyenteredtheroom.
LordMayfieldthoughttohimself:
“Julialooksilltonight.Whatamassofnervesthewomanis.”
Aloudhesaid:
“Whataboutarubber—eh?”
LadyJuliabrightenedatonce.Bridgewasasthebreathoflifetoher.
ReggieCarringtonenteredtheroomatthatminute,andafourwasarranged.LadyJulia,Mrs.Vanderlyn,SirGeorgeandyoungReggiesatdowntothecard-table.LordMayfielddevotedhimselftothetaskofentertainingMrs.Macatta.
Whentworubbershadbeenplayed,SirGeorgelookedostentatiouslyattheclockonthemantelpiece.
“Hardlyworthwhilebeginninganother,”heremarked.
Hiswifelookedannoyed.
“It’sonlyaquartertoeleven.Ashortone.”
“Theyneverare,mydear,”saidSirGeorgegood-temperedly.“Anyway,CharlesandIhavesomeworktodo.”
Mrs.Vanderlynmurmured:
“Howimportantthatsounds!Isupposeyouclevermenwhoareatthetopofthingsnevergetarealrest.”
“Noforty-eighthourweekforus,”saidSirGeorge.
Mrs.Vanderlynmurmured:
“Youknow,IfeelratherashamedofmyselfasarawAmerican,butIdogetsothrilledatmeetingpeoplewhocontrolthedestiniesofacountry.Iexpectthatseemsaverycrudepointofviewtoyou,SirGeorge.”
“MydearMrs.Vanderlyn,Ishouldneverthinkofyouas‘crude’or‘raw.’”
Hesmiledintohereyes.Therewas,perhaps,ahintofironyinthevoicewhichshedidnotmiss.AdroitlysheturnedtoReggie,smilingsweetlyintohiseyes.
“I’msorrywe’renotcontinuingourpartnership.Thatwasafrightfullycleverfourno-trumpcallofyours.”
Flushedandpleased,Reggiemumbled:
“Bitofaflukethatitcameoff.”
“Oh,no,itwasreallyacleverbitofdeductiononyourpart.You’ddeducedfromthebiddingexactlywherethecardsmustbe,andyouplayedaccordingly.Ithoughtitwasbrilliant.”
LadyJuliaroseabruptly.
“Thewomanlaysitonwithapaletteknife,”shethoughtdisgustedly.
Thenhereyessoftenedastheyrestedonherson.Hebelieveditall.Howpatheticallyyoungandpleasedhelooked.Howincrediblyna?vehewas.Nowonderhegotintoscrapes.Hewastootrusting.Thetruthofitwashehadtoosweetanature.Georgedidn’tunderstandhimintheleast.Menweresounsympatheticintheirjudgments.Theyforgotthattheyhadeverbeenyoungthemselves.GeorgewasmuchtooharshwithReggie.
Mrs.Macattahadrisen.Goodnightsweresaid.
Thethreewomenwentoutoftheroom.LordMayfieldhelpedhimselftoadrinkaftergivingonetoSirGeorge,thenhelookedupasMr.Carlileappearedatthedoor.
“Getoutthefilesandallthepapers,willyou,Carlile?Includingtheplansandtheprints.TheAirMarshalandIwillbealongshortly.We’lljusttakeaturnoutsidefirst,eh,George?It’sstoppedraining.”
Mr.Carlile,turningtodepart,murmuredanapologyashealmostcollidedwithMrs.Vanderlyn.
Shedriftedtowardsthem,murmuring:
“Mybook,Iwasreadingitbeforedinner.”
Reggiesprangforwardandheldupabook.
“Isthisit?Onthesofa?”
“Oh,yes.Thankyousomuch.”
Shesmiledsweetly,saidgoodnightagainandwentoutoftheroom.
SirGeorgehadopenedoneofthefrenchwindows.
“Beautifulnightnow,”heannounced.“Goodideaofyourstotakeaturn.”
Reggiesaid:
“Well,goodnight,sir.I’llbetoddlingofftobed.”
“Goodnight,myboy,”saidLordMayfield.
Reggiepickedupadetectivestorywhichhehadbegunearlierintheeveningandlefttheroom.
LordMayfieldandSirGeorgesteppedoutupontheterrace.
Itwasabeautifulnight,withaclearskystuddedwithstars.
SirGeorgedrewadeepbreath.
“Phew,thatwomanusesalotofscent,”heremarked.
LordMayfieldlaughed.
“Anyway,it’snotcheapscent.Oneofthemostexpensivebrandsonthemarket,Ishouldsay.”
SirGeorgegaveagrimace.
“Isupposeoneshouldbethankfulforthat.”
“Youshould,indeed.Ithinkawomansmotheredincheapscentisoneofthegreatestabominationsknowntomankind.”
SirGeorgeglancedupatthesky.
“Extraordinarythewayit’scleared.Iheardtherainbeatingdownwhenwewereatdinner.”
Thetwomenstrolledgentlyalongtheterrace.
Theterraceranthewholelengthofthehouse.Belowitthegroundslopedgentlyaway,permittingamagnificentviewovertheSussexweald.
SirGeorgelitacigar.
“Aboutthismetalalloy—”hebegan.
Thetalkbecametechnical.
Astheyapproachedthefarendoftheterraceforthefifthtime,LordMayfieldsaidwithasigh:
“Oh,well,Isupposewe’dbettergetdowntoit.”
“Yes,goodbitofworktogetthrough.”
Thetwomenturned,andLordMayfieldutteredasurprisedejaculation.
“Hallo!Seethat?”
“Seewhat?”askedSirGeorge.
“ThoughtIsawsomeoneslipacrosstheterracefrommystudywindow.”
“Nonsense,oldboy.Ididn’tseeanything.”
“Well,Idid—orIthoughtIdid.”
“Youreyesareplayingtricksonyou.Iwaslookingstraightdowntheterrace,andI’dhaveseenanythingtherewastobeseen.There’spreciouslittleIdon’tsee—evenifIdohavetoholdanewspaperatarm’slength.”
LordMayfieldchuckled.
“Icanputoneoveronyouthere,George.Ireadeasilywithoutglasses.”
“Butyoucan’talwaysdistinguishthefellowontheothersideoftheHouse.Oristhateyeglassofyourssheerintimidation?”
Laughing,thetwomenenteredLordMayfield’sstudy,thefrenchwindowofwhichwasopen.
Mr.Carlilewasbusyarrangingsomepapersinafilebythesafe.
Helookedupastheyentered.
“Ha,Carlile,everythingready?”
“Yes,LordMayfield,allthepapersareonyourdesk.”
Thedeskinquestionwasabigimportant-lookingwritingtableofmahoganysetacrossacornerbythewindow.LordMayfieldwentovertoit,andbegansortingthroughthevariousdocumentslaidout.
“Lovelynightnow,”saidSirGeorge.
Mr.Carlileagreed.
“Yes,indeed.Remarkablethewayit’sclearedupaftertherain.”
Puttingawayhisfile,Mr.Carlileasked:
“Willyouwantmeanymoretonight,LordMayfield?”
“No,Idon’tthinkso,Carlile.I’llputalltheseawaymyself.Weshallprobablybelate.You’dbetterturnin.”
“Thankyou.Goodnight,LordMayfield.Goodnight,SirGeorge.”
“Goodnight,Carlile.”
Asthesecretarywasabouttoleavetheroom,LordMayfieldsaidsharply:
“Justaminute,Carlile.You’veforgottenthemostimportantofthelot.”
“Ibegyourpardon,LordMayfield.”
“Theactualplansofthebomber,man.”
Thesecretarystared.
“They’rerightonthetop,sir.”
“They’renothingofthesort.”
“ButI’vejustputthemthere.”
“Lookforyourself,man.”
Withabewilderedexpression,theyoungmancameforwardandjoinedLordMayfieldatthedesk.
SomewhatimpatientlytheMinisterindicatedthepileofpapers.Carlilesortedthroughthem,hisexpressionofbewildermentgrowing.
“Yousee,they’renotthere.”
Thesecretarystammered:
“But—butit’sincredible.Ilaidthemtherenotthreeminutesago.”
LordMayfieldsaidgood-humouredly:
“Youmusthavemadeamistake,theymustbestillinthesafe.”
“Idon’tseehow—IknowIputthemthere!”
LordMayfieldbrushedpasthimtotheopensafe.SirGeorgejoinedthem.Averyfewminutessufficedtoshowthattheplansofthebomberwerenotthere.
Dazedandunbelieving,thethreemenreturnedtothedeskandoncemoreturnedoverthepapers.
“MyGod!”saidMayfield.“They’regone!”
Mr.Carlilecried:
“Butit’simpossible!”
“Who’sbeeninthisroom?”snappedouttheMinister.
“Noone.Nooneatall.”
“Lookhere,Carlile,thoseplanshaven’tvanishedintothinair.Someonehastakenthem.HasMrs.Vanderlynbeeninhere?”
“Mrs.Vanderlyn?Oh,no,sir.”
“I’llbackthat,”saidCarrington.Hesniffedtheair!“You’dsoonsmellifshehad.Thatscentofhers.”
“Nobodyhasbeeninhere,”insistedCarlile.“Ican’tunderstandit.”
“Lookhere,Carlile,”saidLordMayfield.“Pullyourselftogether.We’vegottogettothebottomofthis.You’reabsolutelysuretheplanswereinthesafe?”
“Absolutely.”
“Youactuallysawthem?Youdidn’tjustassumetheywereamongtheothers?”
“No,no,LordMayfield.Isawthem.Iputthemontopoftheothersonthedesk.”
“Andsincethen,yousay,nobodyhasbeenintheroom.Haveyoubeenoutoftheroom?”
“No—atleast—yes.”
“Ah!”criedSirGeorge.“Nowwe’regettingatit!”
LordMayfieldsaidsharply:
“Whatonearth—”whenCarlileinterrupted.
“Inthenormalcourseofevents,LordMayfield,Ishouldnot,ofcourse,havedreamtofleavingtheroom.whenimportantpaperswerelyingabout,buthearingawomanscream—”
“Awomanscream?”ejaculatedLordMayfieldinasurprisedvoice.
“Yes,LordMayfield.ItstartledmemorethanIcansay.IwasjustlayingthepapersonthedeskwhenIheardit,andnaturallyIranoutintothehall.”
“Whoscreamed?”
“Mrs.Vanderlyn’sFrenchmaid.Shewasstandinghalfwayupthestairs,lookingverywhiteandupsetandshakingallover.Shesaidshehadseenaghost.”
“Seenaghost?”
“Yes,atallwomandressedallinwhitewhomovedwithoutasoundandfloatedintheair.”
“Whataridiculousstory!”
“Yes,LordMayfield,thatiswhatItoldher.Imustsaysheseemedratherashamedofherself.ShewentoffupstairsandIcamebackinhere.”
“Howlongagowasthis?”
“JustaminuteortwobeforeyouandSirGeorgecamein.”
“Andyouwereoutoftheroom—howlong?”
Thesecretaryconsidered.
“Twominutes—atthemostthree.”
“Longenough,”groanedLordMayfield.Suddenlyheclutchedhisfriend’sarm
“George,thatshadowIsaw—slinkingawayfromthiswindow.Thatwasit!AssoonasCarlilelefttheroom,henippedin,seizedtheplansandmadeoff.”
“Dirtywork,”saidSirGeorge.
Thenheseizedhisfriendbythearm.
“Lookhere,Charles,thisisthedevilofabusiness.Whatthehellarewegoingtodoaboutit?”
Three
“Atanyrategiveitatrial,Charles.”
Itwashalfanhourlater.ThetwomenwereinLordMayfield’sstudy,andSirGeorgehadbeenexpendingaconsiderableamountofpersuasiontoinducehisfriendtoadoptacertaincourse.
LordMayfield,atfirstmostunwilling,wasgraduallybecominglessaversetotheidea.
SirGeorgewenton:
“Don’tbesodamnedpigheaded,Charles.”
LordMayfieldsaidslowly:
“Whydraginawretchedforeignerweknownothingabout?”
“ButIhappentoknowalotabouthim.Theman’samarvel.”
“Humph.”
“Lookhere,Charles.It’sachance!Discretionistheessenceofthisbusiness.Ifitleaksout—”
“Whenitleaksoutiswhatyoumean!”
“Notnecessarily.Thisman,HerculePoirot—”
“Willcomedownhereandproducetheplanslikeaconjurertakingrabbitsoutofhishat,Isuppose?”
“He’llgetatthetruth.Andthetruthiswhatwewant.Lookhere,Charles,Itakeallresponsibilityonmyself.”
LordMayfieldsaidslowly:
“Oh,well,haveityourownway,butIdon’tseewhatthefellowcando….”
SirGeorgepickedupthephone.
“I’mgoingtogetthroughtohim—now.”
“He’llbeinbed.”
“Hecangetup.Dashitall,Charles,youcan’tletthatwomangetawaywithit.”
“Mrs.Vanderlyn,youmean?”
“Yes.Youdon’tdoubt,doyou,thatshe’satthebottomofthis?”
“No,Idon’t.She’sturnedthetablesonmewithavengeance.Idon’tlikeadmitting,George,thatawoman’sbeentoocleverforus.Itgoesagainstthegrain.Butit’strue.Weshan’tbeabletoproveanythingagainsther,andyetwebothknowthatshe’sbeentheprimemoverintheaffair.”
“Womenarethedevil,”saidCarringtonwithfeeling.
“Nothingtoconnectherwithit,damnitall!Wemaybelievethatsheputthegirluptothatscreamingtrick,andthatthemanlurkingoutsidewasheraccomplice,butthedevilofitiswecan’tproveit.”
“PerhapsHerculePoirotcan.”
SuddenlyLordMayfieldlaughed.
“BytheLord,George,IthoughtyouweretoomuchofanoldJohnBulltoputyourtrustinaFrenchman,howeverclever.”
“He’snotevenaFrenchman,he’saBelgian,”saidSirGeorgeinarathershamefacedmanner.
“Well,haveyourBelgiandown.Lethimtryhiswitsonthisbusiness.I’llbethecan’tmakemoreofitthanwecan.”
Withoutreplying,SirGeorgestretchedahandtothetelephone.
Four
Blinkingalittle,HerculePoirotturnedhisheadfromonemantotheother.Verydelicatelyhesmotheredayawn.
Itwashalfpasttwointhemorning.HehadbeenrousedfromsleepandrusheddownthroughthedarknessinabigRollsRoyce.Nowhehadjustfinishedhearingwhatthetwomenhadtotellhim.
“Thosearethefacts,M.Poirot,”saidLordMayfield.
Heleanedbackinhischair,andslowlyfixedhismonocleinoneeye.Throughitashrewd,pale-blueeyewatchedPoirotattentively.Besidesbeingshrewdtheeyewasdefinitelysceptical.PoirotcastaswiftglanceatSirGeorgeCarrington.
Thatgentlemanwasleaningforwardwithanexpressionofalmostchildlikehopefulnessonhisface.
Poirotsaidslowly:
“Ihavethefacts,yes.Themaidscreams,thesecretarygoesout,thenamelesswatchercomesin,theplansarethereontopofthedesk,hesnatchesthemupandgoes.Thefacts—theyareallveryconvenient.”
SomethinginthewayheutteredthelastphraseseemedtoattractLordMayfield’sattention.Hesatupalittlestraighter,hismonocledropped.Itwasasthoughanewalertnesscametohim.
“Ibegyourpardon,M.Poirot?”
“Isaid,LordMayfield,thatthefactswereallveryconvenient—forthethief.Bytheway,youaresureitwasamanyousaw?”
LordMayfieldshookhishead.
“ThatIcouldn’tsay.Itwasjusta—shadow.Infact,IwasalmostdoubtfulifIhadseenanyone.”
PoirottransferredhisgazetotheAirMarshal.
“Andyou,SirGeorge?Couldyousayifitwasamanorawoman?”
“Ididn’tseeanyonemyself.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.Thenheskippedsuddenlytohisfeetandwentovertothewritingtable.
“Icanassureyouthattheplansarenotthere,”saidLordMayfield.“Wehaveallthreebeenthroughthosepapershalfadozentimes.”
“Allthree?Youmean,yoursecretaryalso?”
“Yes,Carlile.”
Poirotturnedsuddenly.
“Tellme,LordMayfield,whichpaperwasontopwhenyouwentovertothedesk?”
Mayfieldfrownedalittleintheeffortofremembrance.
“Letmesee—yes,itwasaroughmemorandumofsomesortofourairdefencepositions.”
Deftly,Poirotnippedoutapaperandbroughtitover.
“Isthistheone,LordMayfield?”
LordMayfieldtookitandglancedoverit.
“Yes,that’stheone.”
PoirottookitovertoCarrington.
“Didyounoticethispaperonthedesk?”
SirGeorgetookit,helditawayfromhim,thenslippedonhispince-nez.
“Yes,that’sright.Ilookedthroughthemtoo,withCarlileandMayfield.Thiswasontop.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.Hereplacedthepaperonthedesk.Mayfieldlookedathiminaslightlypuzzledmanner.
“Ifthereareanyotherquestions—”hebegan.
“Butyes,certainlythereisaquestion.Carlile.Carlileisthequestion!”
LordMayfield’scolourrosealittle.
“Carlile,M.Poirot,isquiteabovesuspicion!Hehasbeenmyconfidentialsecretaryfornineyears.Hehasaccesstoallmyprivatepapers,andImaypointouttoyouthathecouldhavemadeacopyoftheplansandatracingofthespecificationsquiteeasilywithoutanyonebeingthewiser.”
“Iappreciateyourpoint,”saidPoirot.“Ifhehadbeenguiltytherewouldbenoneedforhimtostageaclumsyrobbery.”
“Inanycase,”saidLordMayfield,“IamsureofCarlile.Iwillguaranteehim.”
“Carlile,”saidCarringtongruffly,“isallright.”
Poirotspreadouthishandsgracefully.
“AndthisMrs.Vanderlyn—sheisallwrong?”
“She’sawrong’unallright,”saidSirGeorge.
LordMayfieldsaidinmoremeasuredtones:
“Ithink,M.Poirot,thattherecanbenodoubtofMrs.Vanderlyn’s—well—activities.TheForeignOfficecangiveyoumorepreciousdataastothat.”
“Andthemaid,youtakeit,isinwithhermistress?”
“Notadoubtofit,”saidSirGeorge.
“Itseemstomeaplausibleassumption,”saidLordMayfieldmorecautiously.
Therewasapause.Poirotsighed,andabsentmindedlyrearrangedoneortwoarticlesonatableathisrighthand.Thenhesaid:
“Itakeitthatthesepapersrepresentedmoney?Thatis,thestolenpaperswouldbedefinitelyworthalargesumincash.”
“Ifpresentedinacertainquarter—yes.”
“Suchas?”
SirGeorgementionedthenamesoftwoEuropeanpowers.
Poirotnodded.
“Thatfactwouldbeknowntoanyone,Itakeit?”
“Mrs.Vanderlynwouldknowitallright.”
“Isaidtoanyone?”
“Isupposeso,yes.”
“Anyonewithaminimumofintelligencewouldappreciatethecashvalueoftheplans?”
“Yes,butM.Poirot—”LordMayfieldwaslookingratheruncomfortable.
Poirotheldupahand.
“Idowhatyoucallexplorealltheavenues.”
Suddenlyheroseagain,steppednimblyoutofthewindowandwithaflashlightexaminedtheedgeofthegrassatthefarthersideoftheterrace.
Thetwomenwatchedhim.
Hecameinagain,satdownandsaid:
“Tellme,LordMayfield,thismalefactor,thisskulkerintheshadows,youdonothavehimpursued?”
LordMayfieldshruggedhisshoulders.
“Atthebottomofthegardenhecouldmakehiswayouttoamainroad.Ifhehadacarwaitingthere,hewouldsoonbeoutofreach—”
“Buttherearethepolice—theA.A.scouts—”
SirGeorgeinterrupted.
“Youforget,M.Poirot.Wecannotriskpublicity.Ifitweretogetoutthattheseplanshadbeenstolen,theresultwouldbeextremelyunfavourabletotheParty.”
“Ah,yes,”saidPoirot.“OnemustrememberLaPolitique.Thegreatdiscretionmustbeobserved.Yousendinsteadforme.Ahwell,perhapsitissimpler.”
“Youarehopefulofsuccess,M.Poirot?”LordMayfieldsoundedatrifleincredulous.
Thelittlemanshruggedhisshoulders.
“Whynot?Onehasonlytoreason—toreflect.”
Hepausedamomentandthensaid:
“IwouldlikenowtospeaktoMr.Carlile.”
“Certainly.”LordMayfieldrose.“Iaskedhimtowaitup.Hewillbesomewhereathand.”
Hewentoutoftheroom.
PoirotlookedatSirGeorge.
“Ehbien,”hesaid.“Whataboutthismanontheterrace?”
“MydearM.Poirot.Don’taskme!Ididn’tseehim,andIcan’tdescribehim.”
Poirotleanedforward.
“Soyouhavealreadysaid.Butitisalittledifferentfromthatisitnot?”
“Whatd’youmean?”askedSirGeorgeabruptly.
“HowshallIsayit?Yourdisbelief,itismoreprofound.”
SirGeorgestartedtospeak,thenstopped.
“Butyes,”saidPoirotencouragingly.“Tellme.Youarebothattheendoftheterrace.LordMayfieldseesashadowslipfromthewindowandacrossthegrass.Whydoyounotseethatshadow?”
Carringtonstaredathim.
“You’vehitit,M.Poirot.I’vebeenworryingaboutthateversince.Yousee,I’dswearthatnoonedidleavethiswindow.IthoughtMayfieldhadimaginedit—branchofatreewaving—somethingofthatkind.Andthenwhenwecameinhereandfoundtherehadbeenarobbery,itseemedasthoughMayfieldmusthavebeenrightandI’dbeenwrong.Andyet—”
Poirotsmiled.
“Andyetyoustillinyourheartofheartsbelieveintheevidence(thenegativeevidence)ofyourowneyes?”
“You’reright,M.Poirot,Ido.”
Poirotgaveasuddensmile.
“Howwiseyouare.”
SirGeorgesaidsharply:
“Therewerenofootprintsonthegrassedge?”
Poirotnodded.
“Exactly.LordMayfield,hefanciesheseesashadow.Thentherecomestherobberyandheissure—butsure!Itisnolongerafancy—heactuallysawtheman.Butthatisnotso.Me,Idonotconcernmyselfmuchwithfootprintsandsuchthingsbutforwhatitisworthwehavethatnegativeevidence.Therewerenofootprintsonthegrass.Ithadrainedheavilythisevening.Ifamanhadcrossedtheterracetothegrassthiseveninghisfootprintswouldhaveshown.”
SirGeorgesaid,staring:“Butthen—butthen—”
“Itbringsusbacktothehouse.Tothepeopleinthehouse.”
HebrokeoffasthedooropenedandLordMayfieldenteredwithMr.Carlile.
Thoughstilllookingverypaleandworried,thesecretaryhadregainedacertaincomposureofmanner.Adjustinghispince-nezhesatdownandlookedatPoirotinquiringly.
“Howlonghadyoubeeninthisroomwhenyouheardthescream,monsieur?”
Carlileconsidered.
“Betweenfiveandtenminutes,Ishouldsay.”
“Andbeforethattherehadbeennodisturbanceofanykind?”
“No.”
“Iunderstandthatthehousepartyhadbeeninoneroomforthegreaterpartoftheevening.”
“Yes,thedrawingroom.”
Poirotconsultedhisnotebook.
“SirGeorgeCarringtonandhiswife.Mrs.Macatta.Mrs.Vanderlyn.Mr.ReggieCarrington.LordMayfieldandyourself.Isthatright?”
“Imyselfwasnotinthedrawingroom.Iwasworkingherethegreaterpartoftheevening.”
PoirotturnedtoLordMayfield.
“Whowentuptobedfirst?”
“LadyJuliaCarrington,Ithink.Asamatteroffact,thethreeladieswentouttogether.”
“Andthen?”
“Mr.CarlilecameinandItoldhimtogetoutthepapersasSirGeorgeandIwouldbealonginaminute.”
“Itwasthenthatyoudecidedtotakeaturnontheterrace?”
“Itwas.”
“WasanythingsaidinMrs.Vanderlyn’shearingastoyourworkinginthestudy?”
“Thematterwasmentioned,yes.”
“ButshewasnotintheroomwhenyouinstructedMr.Carliletogetoutthepapers?”
“No.”
“Excuseme,LordMayfield,”saidCarlile.“Justafteryouhadsaidthat,Icollidedwithherinthedoorway.Shehadcomebackforabook.”
“Soyouthinkshemighthaveoverheard?”
“Ithinkitquitepossible,yes.”
“Shecamebackforabook,”musedPoirot.“Didyoufindherherbook,LordMayfield?”
“Yes,Reggiegaveittoher.”
“Ah,yes,itiswhatyoucalltheoldgasp—no,pardon,theoldwheeze—that—tocomebackforabook.Itisoftenuseful!”
“Youthinkitwasdeliberate?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Andafterthat,youtwogentlemengooutontheterrace.AndMrs.Vanderlyn?”
“Shewentoffwithherbook.”
“AndtheyoungM.Reggie.Hewenttobedalso?”
“Yes.”
“AndMr.Carlilehecomeshereandsometimebetweenfiveandtenminuteslaterheheardascream.Continue,M.Carlile.Youheardascreamandyouwentoutintothehall.Ah,perhapsitwouldbesimplestifyoureproducedexactlyyouractions.”
Mr.Carlilegotupalittleawkwardly.
“HereIscream,”saidPoirothelpfully.Heopenedhismouthandemittedashrillbleat.LordMayfieldturnedhisheadawaytohideasmileandMr.Carlilelookedextremelyuncomfortable.
“Allez!Forward!March!”criedPoirot.“ItisyourcuethatIgiveyouthere.”
Mr.Carlilewalkedstifflytothedoor,openeditandwentout.Poirotfollowedhim.Theothertwocamebehind.
“Thedoor,didyoucloseitafteryouorleaveitopen?”
“Ican’treallyremember.IthinkImusthaveleftitopen.”
“Nomatter.Proceed.”
Stillwithextremestiffness,Mr.Carlilewalkedtothebottomofthestaircaseandstoodtherelookingup.
Poirotsaid:
“Themaid,yousay,wasonthestairs.Whereabouts?”
“Abouthalfwayup.”
“Andshewaslookingupset.”
“Definitelyso.”
“Ehbien,me,Iamthemaid.”Poirotrannimblyupthestairs.“Abouthere?”
“Asteportwohigher.”
“Likethis?”
Poirotstruckanattitude.
“Well—er—notquitelikethat.”
“Howthen?”
“Well,shehadherhandstoherhead.”
“Ah,herhandstoherhead.Thatisveryinteresting.Likethis?”Poirotraisedhisarms,hishandsrestedonhisheadjustaboveeachear.
“Yesthat’sit.”
“Aha!Andtellme,M.Carlile,shewasaprettygirl—yes?”
“Really,Ididn’tnotice.”
Carlile’svoicewasrepressive.
“Aha,youdidnotnotice?Butyouareayoungman.Doesnotayoungmannoticewhenagirlispretty?”
“Really,M.Poirot,IcanonlyrepeatthatIdidnotdoso.”
Carlilecastanagonizedglanceathisemployer.SirGeorgeCarringtongaveasuddenchuckle.
“M.Poirotseemsdeterminedtomakeyououtagaydog,Carlile,”heremarked
“Me,Ialwaysnoticewhenagirlispretty,”announcedPoirotashedescendedthestairs.
ThesilencewithwhichMr.Carlilegreetedthisremarkwassomewhatpointed.Poirotwenton:
“Anditwasthenshetoldthistaleofhavingseenaghost?”
“Yes.”
“Didyoubelievethestory?”
“Well,hardly,M.Poirot!”
“Idonotmean,doyoubelieveinghosts.Imean,diditstrikeyouthatthegirlherselfreallythoughtshehadseensomething?”
“Oh,astothat,Icouldn’tsay.Shewascertainlybreathingfastandseemedupset.”
“Youdidnotseeorhearanythingofhermistress?”
“Yes,asamatteroffactIdid.Shecameoutofherroominthegalleryaboveandcalled,‘Leonie.’”
“Andthen?”
“ThegirlranuptoherandIwentbacktothestudy.”
“Whilstyouwerestandingatthefootofthestairshere,couldanyonehaveenteredthestudybythedooryouhadleftopen?”
Carlileshookhishead.
“Notwithoutpassingme.Thestudydoorisattheendofthepassage,asyousee.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.Mr.Carlilewentoninhiscareful,precisevoice
“ImaysaythatIamverythankfulthatLordMayfieldactuallysawthethiefleavingthewindow.OtherwiseImyselfshouldbeinaveryunpleasantposition.”
“Nonsense,mydearCarlile,”brokeinLordMayfieldimpatiently.“Nosuspicioncouldpossiblyattachtoyou.”
“Itisverykindofyoutosayso,LordMayfield,butfactsarefacts,andIcanquiteseethatitlooksbadlyforme.InanycaseIhopethatmybelongingsandmyselfmaybesearched.”
“Nonsense,mydearfellow,”saidMayfield.
Poirotmurmured:
“Youareseriousinwishingthat?”
“Ishouldinfinitelypreferit.”
Poirotlookedathimthoughtfullyforaminuteortwoandmurmured,“Isee.”
Thenheasked:
“WhereisMrs.Vanderlyn’sroomsituatedinregardtothestudy?”
“Itisdirectlyoverit.”
“Withawindowlookingoutovertheterrace?”
“Yes.”
AgainPoirotnodded.Thenhesaid:
“Letusgotothedrawingroom.”
Herehewanderedroundtheroom,examinedthefasteningsofthewindows,glancedatthescorersonthebridgetableandthenfinallyaddressedLordMayfield
“Thisaffair,”hesaid,“ismorecomplicatedthanitappears.Butonethingisquitecertain.Thestolenplanshavenotleftthishouse.”
LordMayfieldstaredathim.
“But,mydearM.Poirot,themanIsawleavingthestudy—”
“Therewasnoman.”
“ButIsawhim—”
“Withthegreatestrespect,LordMayfield,youimaginedyousawhim.Theshadowcastbythebranchofatreedeceivedyou.Thefactthatarobberyoccurrednaturallyseemedaproofthatwhatyouhadimaginedwastrue.”
“Really,M.Poirot,theevidenceofmyowneyes—”
“Backmyeyesagainstyoursanyday,oldboy,”putinSirGeorge.
“Youmustpermitme,LordMayfield,tobeverydefiniteonthatpoint.Noonecrossedtheterracetothegrass”
Lookingverypaleandspeakingstiffly,Mr.Carlilesaid:
“Inthatcase,ifM.Poirotiscorrect,suspicionautomaticallyattachesitselftome.Iamtheonlypersonwhocouldpossiblyhavecommittedtherobbery.”
LordMayfieldsprangup.
“Nonsense.WhateverM.Poirotthinksaboutit,Idon’tagreewithhim.Iamconvincedofyourinnocence,mydearCarlile.Infact,I’mwillingtoguaranteeit.”
Poirotmurmuredmildly:
“ButIhavenotsaidthatIsuspectM.Carlile.”
Carlileanswered:
“No,butyou’vemadeitperfectlyclearthatnooneelsehadachancetocommittherobbery.”
“Dutout!Dutout!”
“ButIhavetoldyounobodypassedmeinthehalltogettothestudydoor.”
“Iagree.Butsomeonemighthavecomeinthroughthestudywindow.”
“Butthatisjustwhatyousaiddidnothappen?”
“Isaidthatnoonefromoutsidecouldhavecomeandleftwithoutleavingmarksonthegrass.Butitcouldhavebeenmanagedfrominsidethehouse.Someonecouldhavegoneoutfromhisroombyoneofthesewindows,slippedalongtheterrace,inatthestudywindow,andbackagaininhere.”
Mr.Carlileobjected:
“ButLordMayfieldandSirGeorgeCarringtonwereontheterrace.”
“Theywereontheterrace,yes,buttheywereenpromenade.SirGeorgeCarrington’seyesmaybeofthemostreliable”—Poirotmadealittlebow—“buthedoesnotkeeptheminthebackofhishead!Thestudywindowisattheextremeleftoftheterrace,thewindowsofthisroomcomenext,buttheterracecontinuestotherightpastone,two,three,perhapsfourrooms?”
“Diningroom,billiardroom,morningroomandlibrary,”saidLordMayfield.
“Andyouwalkedupanddowntheterrace,howmanytimes?”
“Atleastfiveorsix.”
“Yousee,itiseasyenough,thethiefhasonlytowatchfortherightmoment!”
Carlilesaidslowly:
“YoumeanthatwhenIwasinthehall,talkingtotheFrenchgirl,thethiefwaswaitinginthedrawingroom?”
“Thatismysuggestion.Itis,ofcourse,onlyasuggestion.”
“Itdoesn’tsoundveryprobabletome,”saidLordMayfield.“Toorisky.”
TheAirMarshaldemurred.
“Idon’tagreewithyou,Charles.It’sperfectlypossible.WonderIhadn’tthewitstothinkofitformyself.”
“Soyousee,”saidPoirot,“whyIbelievethattheplansarestillinthehouse.Theproblemnowistofindthem!”
SirGeorgesnorted.
“That’ssimpleenough.Searcheverybody.”
LordMayfieldmadeamovementofdissent,butPoirotspokebeforehecould.
“No,no,itisnotsosimpleasthat.Thepersonwhotookthoseplanswillanticipatethatasearchwillbemadeandwillmakequitesurethattheyarenotfoundamongsthisorherbelongings.Theywillhavebeenhiddeninneutralground.”
“Doyousuggestthatwe’vegottogoplayinghideandseekallovertheballyhouse?”
Poirotsmiled.
“No,no,weneednotbesocrudeasthat.Wecanarriveatthehidingplace(oralternativelyattheidentityoftheguiltyperson)byreflection.Thatwillsimplifymatters.InthemorningIwouldlikeaninterviewwitheverypersoninthehouse.Itwould,Ithink,beunwisetoseekthoseinterviewsnow.”
LordMayfieldnodded.
“Causetoomuchcomment,”hesaid,“ifwedraggedeverybodyoutoftheirbedsatthreeinthemorning.Inanycaseyou’llhavetoproceedwithagooddealofcamouflage,M.Poirot.Thismatterhasgottobekeptdark.”
Poirotwavedanairyhand.
“LeaveittoHerculePoirot.TheliesIinventarealwaysmostdelicateandmostconvincing.Tomorrow,then,Iconductmyinvestigations.Buttonight,Ishouldliketobeginbyinterviewingyou,SirGeorgeandyou,LordMayfield.”
Hebowedtothemboth.
“Youmean—alone?”
“Thatwasmymeaning.”
LordMayfieldraisedhiseyesslightly,thenhesaid:
“Certainly.I’llleaveyoualonewithSirGeorge.Whenyouwantme,you’llfindmeinmystudy.Come,Carlile.”
Heandthesecretarywentout,shuttingthedoorbehindthem.
SirGeorgesatdown,reachingmechanicallyforacigarette.HeturnedapuzzledfacetoPoirot.
“Youknow,”hesaidslowly.“Idon’tquitegetthis.”
“Thatisverysimplyexplained,”saidPoirotwithasmile.“Intwowords,tobeaccurate.Mrs.Vanderlyn!”
“Oh,”saidCarrington.“IthinkIsee.Mrs.Vanderlyn?”
“Precisely.Itmightbe,yousee,thatitwouldnotbeverydelicatetoaskLordMayfieldthequestionIwanttoaskWhyMrs.Vanderlyn?Thislady,sheisknowntobeasuspiciouscharacter.Why,then,shouldshebehere?Isaytomyselftherearethreeexplanations.One,thatLordMayfieldhasapenchantforthelady(andthatiswhyIseektotalktoyoualone.Idonotwishtoembarrasshim).Two,thatMrs.Vanderlynisperhapsthedearfriendofsomeoneelseinthehouse?”
“Youcancountmeout!”saidSirGeorgewithagrin.
“Then,ifneitherofthosecasesistrue,thequestionreturnsinredoubledforce.WhyMrs.Vanderlyn?AnditseemstomeIperceiveashadowyanswer.Therewasareason.HerpresenceatthisparticularjuncturewasdefinitelydesiredbyLordMayfieldforaspecialreason.AmIright?”
SirGeorgenodded.
“You’requiteright,”hesaid.“Mayfieldistoooldabirdtofallforherwiles.Hewantedherhereforquiteanotherreason.Itwaslikethis.”
Heretailedtheconversationthathadtakenplaceatthedinnertable.Poirotlistenedattentively.
“Ah,”hesaid.“Icomprehendnow.Nevertheless,itseemsthattheladyhasturnedthetablesonyoubothratherneatly!”
SirGeorgesworefreely.
Poirotwatchedhimwithsomeslightamusement,thenhesaid:
“Youdonotdoubtthatthistheftisherdoing—Imean,thatsheisresponsibleforit,whetherornosheplayedanactivepart?”
SirGeorgestared.
“Ofcoursenot!Thereisn’tanydoubtofthat.Why,whoelsewouldhaveanyinterestinstealingthoseplans?”
“Ah!”saidHerculePoirot.Heleanedbackandlookedattheceiling.“Andyet,SirGeorge,weagreed,notaquarterofanhourago,thatthesepapersrepresentedverydefinitelymoney.Notperhaps,inquitesoobviousaformasbanknotes,orgold,orjewellery,butneverthelesstheywerepotentialmoney.Iftherewereanyoneherewhowashardup—”
Theotherinterruptedhimwithasnort.
“Whoisn’tthesedays?IsupposeIcansayitwithoutincriminatingmyself.”
HesmiledandPoirotsmiledpolitelybackathimandmurmured:
“Maisoui,youcansaywhatyoulike,foryou,SirGeorge,havetheoneunimpeachablealibiinthisaffair.”
“ButI’mdamnedhardupmyself!”
Poirotshookhisheadsadly.
“Yes,indeed,amaninyourpositionhasheavylivingexpenses.Thenyouhaveayoungsonatamostexpensiveage—”
SirGeorgegroaned.
“Education’sbadenough,thendebtsontopofit.Mindyou,thislad’snotabadlad.”
Poirotlistenedsympathetically.HeheardalotoftheAirMarshal’saccumulatedgrievances.Thelackofgritandstaminaintheyoungergeneration,thefantasticwayinwhichmothersspoilttheirchildrenandalwaystooktheirside,thecurseofgamblingonceitgotholdofawoman,thefollyofplayingforhigherstakesthanyoucouldafford.Itwascouchedingeneralterms,SirGeorgedidnotalludedirectlytoeitherhiswifeorhisson,buthisnaturaltransparencymadehisgeneralizationsveryeasytoseethrough.
Hebrokeoffsuddenly.
“Sorry,mustn’ttakeupyourtimewithsomethingthat’srightoffthesubject,especiallyatthishourofthenight—orrather,morning.”
Hestifledayawn.
“Isuggest,SirGeorge,thatyoushouldgotobed.Youhavebeenmostkindandhelpful.”
“Right,thinkIwillturnin.Youreallythinkthereisachanceofgettingtheplansback?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Imeantotry.Idonotseewhynot.”
“Well,I’llbeoff.Goodnight.”
Helefttheroom.
Poirotremainedinhischairstaringthoughtfullyattheceiling,thenhetookoutalittlenotebookandturningtoacleanpage,hewrote:
Mrs.Vanderlyn?LadyJuliaCarrington?Mrs.Macatta?ReggieCarrington?Mr.Carlile?
Underneathhewrote:
Mrs.VanderlynandMr.ReggieCarrington?Mrs.VanderlynandLadyJulia?Mrs.VanderlynandMr.Carlile?
Heshookhisheadinadissatisifedmanner,murmuring:“C’estplussimpleque?a.”
Thenheaddedafewshortsentences.
DidLordMayfieldseea“shadow?”Ifnot,whydidhesayhedid?DidSirGeorgeseeanything?HewaspositivehehadseennothingAFTERIexaminedflower-bed.Note:LordMayfieldisnearsighted,canreadwithoutglassesbuthastouseamonocletolookacrossaroom.SirGeorgeislong-sighted.Therefore,fromthefarendoftheterrace,hissightismoretobedependeduponthanLordMayfield’s.YetLordMayfieldisverypositivethatheDIDseesomethingandisquiteunshakenbyhisfriend’sdenial.CananyonebequiteasabovesuspicionasMr.Carlileappearstobe?LordMayfieldisveryemphaticastohisinnocence.Toomuchso.Why?Becausehesecretlysuspectshimandisashamedofhissuspicions?Orbecausehedefinitelysuspectssomeotherperson?Thatistosay,somepersonOTHERthanMrs.Vanderlyn?
Heputthenotebookaway.
Then,gettingup,hewentalongtothestudy.
Five
LordMayfieldwasseatedathisdeskwhenPoirotenteredthestudy.Heswunground,laiddownhispen,andlookedupinquiringly.
“Well,M.Poirot,hadyourinterviewwithCarrington?”
Poirotsmiledandsatdown.
“Yes,LordMayfield.Heclearedupapointthathadpuzzledme.”
“Whatwasthat?”
“ThereasonforMrs.Vanderlyn’spresencehere.Youcomprehend,Ithoughtitpossible—”
MayfieldwasquicktorealizethecauseofPoirot’ssomewhatexaggeratedembarrassment.
“YouthoughtIhadaweaknessforthelady?Notatall.Farfromit.Funnilyenough,Carringtonthoughtthesame.”
“Yes,hehastoldmeoftheconversationheheldwithyouonthesubject.”
LordMayfieldlookedratherrueful.
“Mylittleschemedidn’tcomeoff.Alwaysannoyingtohavetoadmitthatawomanhasgotthebetterofyou.”
“Ah,butshehasnotgotthebetterofyouyet,LordMayfield.”
“Youthinkwemayyetwin?Well,I’mgladtohearyousayso.I’dliketothinkitwastrue.”
Hesighed.
“IfeelI’veactedlikeacompletefool—sopleasedwithmystratagemforentrappingthelady.”
HerculePoirotsaid,ashelitoneofhistinycigarettes:
“Whatwasyourstratagemexactly,LordMayfield?”
“Well,”LordMayfieldhesitated.“Ihadn’texactlygotdowntodetails.”
“Youdidn’tdiscussitwithanyone?”
“No.”
“NotevenwithMr.Carlile?”
“No.”
Poirotsmiled.
“Youprefertoplayalonehand,LordMayfield.”
“Ihaveusuallyfounditthebestway,”saidtheotheralittlegrimly.
“Yes,youarewise.Trustnoone.ButyoudidmentionthemattertoSirGeorgeCarrington?”
“SimplybecauseIrealizedthatthedearfellowwasseriouslyperturbedaboutme.”
LordMayfieldsmiledattheremembrance
“Heisanoldfriendofyours?”
“Yes.Ihaveknownhimforovertwentyyears.”
“Andhiswife?”
“Ihaveknownhiswifealso,ofcourse.”
“But(pardonmeifIamimpertinent)youarenotonthesametermsofintimacywithher?”
“Idon’treallyseewhatmypersonalrelationshipstopeoplehastodowiththematterinhand,M.Poirot.”
“ButIthink,LordMayfield,thattheymayhaveagooddealtodowithit.Youagreed,didyounot,thatmytheoryofsomeoneinthedrawingroomwasapossibleone?”
“Yes.Infact,Iagreewithyouthatthatiswhatmusthavehappened.”
“Wewillnotsay‘must.’Thatistooself-confidentaword.Butifthattheoryofmineistrue,whodoyouthinkthepersoninthedrawingroomcouldhavebeen?”
“ObviouslyMrs.Vanderlyn.Shehadbeenbackthereonceforabook.Shecouldhavecomebackforanotherbook,orahandbag,oradroppedhandkerchief—oneofadozenfeminineexcuses.ShearrangeswithhermaidtoscreamandgetCarlileawayfromthestudy.Thensheslipsinandoutbythewindowsasyousaid.”
“YouforgetitcouldnothavebeenMrs.Vanderlyn.Carlileheardhercallthemaidfromupstairswhilehewastalkingtothegirl.”
LordMayfieldbithislip.
“True.Iforgotthat.”Helookedthroughlyannoyed.
“Yousee,”saidPoirotgently.“Weprogress.Wehavefirstthesimpleexplanationofathiefwhocomesfromoutsideandmakesoffwiththebooty.AveryconvenienttheoryasIsaidatthetime,tooconvenienttobereadilyaccepted.Wehavedisposedofthat.Thenwecometothetheoryoftheforeignagent,Mrs.Vanderlyn,andthatagainseemstofittogetherbeautifullyuptoacertainpoint.Butnowitlooksasthoughthat,too,wastooeasy—tooconvenient—tobeaccepted.”
“You’dwashMrs.Vanderlynoutofitaltogether?”
“ItwasnotMrs.Vanderlyninthedrawingroom.ItmayhavebeenanallyofMrs.Vanderlyn’swhocommittedthetheft,butitisjustpossiblethatitwascommittedbyanotherpersonaltogether.Ifso,wehavetoconsiderthequestionofmotive.”
“Isn’tthisratherfar-fetched,M.Poirot?”
“Idonotthinkso.Nowwhatmotivescouldtherebe?Thereisthemotiveofmoney.Thepapersmayhavebeenstolenwiththeobjectofturningthemintocash.Thatisthesimplestmotivetoconsider.Butthemotivemightpossiblybesomethingquitedifferent.”
“Suchas—”
Poirotsaidslowly:
“Itmighthavebeendonedefinitelywiththeideaofdamagingsomeone.”
“Who?”
“PossiblyMr.Carlile.Hewouldbetheobvioussuspect.Buttheremightbemoretoitthanthat.Themenwhocontrolthedestinyofacountry,LordMayfield,areparticularlyvulnerabletodisplaysofpopularfeeling.”
“Meaningthatthetheftwasaimedatdamagingme?”
Poirotnodded.
“IthinkIamcorrectinsaying,LordMayfield,thataboutfiveyearsagoyoupassedthroughasomewhattryingtime.YouweresuspectedoffriendshipwithaEuropeanPoweratthattimebitterlyunpopularwiththeelectorateofthiscountry.”
“Quitetrue,M.Poirot.”
“Astatesmaninthesedayshasadifficulttask.Hehastopursuethepolicyhedeemsadvantageoustohiscountry,buthehasatthesametimetorecognizetheforceofpopularfeeling.Popularfeelingisveryoftensentimental,muddleheaded,andeminentlyunsound,butitcannotbedisregardedforallthat.”
“Howwellyouexpressit!Thatisexactlythecurseofapolitician’slife.Hehastobowtothecountry’sfeeling,howeverdangerousandfoolhardyheknowsittobe.”
“Thatwasyourdilemma,Ithink.Therewererumoursthatyouhadconcludedanagreementwiththecountryinquestion.Thiscountryandthenewspaperswereupinarmsaboutit.FortunatelythePrimeMinisterwasablecategoricallytodenythestory,andyourepudiatedit,thoughstillmakingnosecretofthewayyoursympathieslay.”
“Allthisisquitetrue,M.Poirot,butwhyrakeuppasthistory?”
“BecauseIconsideritpossiblethatanenemy,disappointedinthewayyousurmountedthatcrisis,mightendeavourtostageafurtherdilemma.Yousoonregainedpublicconfidence.Thoseparticularcircumstanceshavepassedaway,youarenow,deservedly,oneofthemostpopularfiguresinpoliticallife.YouarespokenoffreelyasthenextPrimeMinisterwhenMr.Hunberlyretires.”
“Youthinkthisisanattempttodiscreditme?Nonsense!”
“Toutdemême,LordMayfield,itwouldnotlookwellifitwereknownthattheplansofBritain’snewbomberhadbeenstolenduringaweekendwhenacertainverycharmingladyhadbeenyourguest.Littlehintsinthenewspapersastoyourrelationshipwiththatladywouldcreateafeelingofdistrustinyou.”
“Suchathingcouldnotreallybetakenseriously.”
“MydearLordMayfield,youknowperfectlywellitcould!Ittakessolittletounderminepublicconfidenceinaman.”
“Yes,that’strue,”saidLordMayfield.Helookedsuddenlyveryworried.“God!howdesperatelycomplicatedthisbusinessisbecoming.Doyoureallythink—butit’simpossible—impossible.”
“Youknowofnobodywhois—jealousofyou?”
“Absurd!”
“Atanyrateyouwilladmitthatmyquestionsaboutyourpersonalrelationshipswiththemembersofthishousepartyarenottotallyirrelevant.”
“Oh,perhaps—perhaps.YouaskedmeaboutJuliaCarrington.There’sreallynotverymuchtosay.I’venevertakentoherverymuch,andIdon’tthinkshecaresforme.She’soneoftheserestless,nervywomen,recklesslyextravagantandmadaboutcards.She’sold-fashionedenough,Ithink,todespisemeasbeingaself-mademan.”
Poirotsaid:
“IlookedyouupinWho’sWhobeforeIcamedown.Youweretheheadofafamousengineeringfirmandyouareyourselfafirst-classengineer.”
“There’scertainlynothingIdon’tknowaboutthepracticalside.I’veworkedmywayupfromthebottom.”
LordMayfieldspokerathergrimly.
“Ohlala!”criedPoirot.“Ihavebeenafool—butafool!”
Theotherstaredathim.
“Ibegyourpardon,M.Poirot?”
“Itisthataportionofthepuzzlehasbecomecleartome.SomethingIdidnotseebefore…Butitallfitsin.Yes—itfitsinwithbeautifulprecision.”
LordMayfieldlookedathiminsomewhatastonishedinquiry.
ButwithaslightsmilePoirotshookhishead.
“No,no,notnow.Imustarrangemyideasalittlemoreclearly.”
Herose.
“Goodnight,LordMayfield.IthinkIknowwherethoseplansare.”
LordMayfieldcriedout:
“Youknow?Thenletusgetholdofthematonce!”
Poirotshookhishead.
“No,no,thatwouldnotdo.Precipitancywouldbefatal.ButleaveitalltoHerculePoirot.”
Hewentoutoftheroom.LordMayfieldraisedhisshouldersincontempt.
“Man’samountebank,”hemuttered.Then,puttingawayhispapersandturningoutthelights,he,too,madehiswayuptobed.
Six
“Ifthere’sbeenaburglary,whythedevildoesn’toldMayfieldsendforthepolice?”demandedReggieCarrington.
Hepushedhischairslightlybackfromthebreakfasttable.
Hewasthelastdown.Hishost,Mrs.MacattaandSirGeorgehadfinishedtheirbreakfastssometimebefore.HismotherandMrs.Vanderlynwerebreakfastinginbed.
SirGeorge,repeatinghisstatementonthelinesagreeduponbetweenLordMayfieldandHerculePoirot,hadafeelingthathewasnotmanagingitaswellashemighthavedone.
“Tosendforaqueerforeignerlikethisseemsveryoddtome,”saidReggie.“Whathasbeentaken,Father?”
“Idon’tknowexactly,myboy.”
Reggiegotup.Helookedrathernervyandonedgethismorning.
“Nothing—important?No—papersoranythinglikethat?”
“Totellyouthetruth,Reggie,Ican’ttellyouexactly.”
“Veryhush-hush,isit?Isee.”
Reggieranupthestairs,pausedforamomenthalfwaywithafrownonhisface,andthencontinuedhisascentandtappedonhismother’sdoor.Hervoicebadehimenter.
LadyJuliawassittingupinbed,scribblingfiguresonthebackofanenvelope.
“Goodmorning,darling.”Shelookedup,thensaidsharply:
“Reggie,isanythingthematter?”
“Nothingmuch,butitseemstherewasaburglarylastnight.”
“Aburglary?Whatwastaken?”
“Oh,Idon’tknow.It’sallveryhush-hush.There’ssomeoddkindofprivateinquiryagentdownstairsaskingeverybodyquestions.”
“Howextraordinary!”
“It’sratherunpleasant,”saidReggieslowly,“stayinginahousewhenthatkindofthinghappens.”
“Whatdidhappenexactly?”
“Don’tknow.Itwassometimeafterweallwenttobed.Lookout,Mother,you’llhavethattrayoff.”
Herescuedthebreakfasttrayandcarriedittoatablebythewindow.
“Wasmoneytaken?”
“ItellyouIdon’tknow.”
LadyJuliasaidslowly:
“Isupposethisinquirymanisaskingeverybodyquestions?”
“Isupposeso.”
“Wheretheywerelastnight?Allthatkindofthing?”
“Probably.Well,Ican’ttellhimmuch.Iwentstraightuptobedandwasasleepinnexttonotime.”
LadyJuliadidnotanswer.
“Isay,Mother,Isupposeyoucouldn’tletmehaveaspotofcash.I’mabsolutelybroke.”
“No,Icouldn’t,”hismotherreplieddecisively.“I’vegotthemostfrightfuloverdraftmyself.Idon’tknowwhatyourfatherwillsaywhenhehearsaboutit.”
TherewasatapatthedoorandSirGeorgeentered.
“Ah,thereyouare,Reggie.Willyougodowntothelibrary?M.HerculePoirotwantstoseeyou.”
PoirothadjustconcludedaninterviewwiththeredoubtableMrs.Macatta.
AfewbriefquestionshadelicitedtheinformationthatMrs.Macattahadgoneuptobedjustbeforeeleven,andhadheardorseennothinghelpful.
Poirotslidgentlyfromthetopicoftheburglarytomorepersonalmatters.HehimselfhadagreatadmirationforLordMayfield.AsamemberofthegeneralpublichefeltthatLordMayfieldwasatrulygreatman.Ofcourse,Mrs.Macatta,beingintheknow,wouldhaveafarbettermeansofestimatingthatthanhimself.
“LordMayfieldhasbrains,”allowedMrs.Macatta.“Andhehascarvedhiscareeroutentirelyforhimself.Heowesnothingtohereditaryinfluence.Hehasacertainlackofvision,perhaps.InthatIfindallmensadlyalike.Theylackthebreadthofawoman’simagination.Woman,M.Poirot,isgoingtobethegreatforceingovernmentintenyears’time.”
Poirotsaidthathewassureofit.
HeslidtothetopicofMrs.Vanderlyn.Wasittrue,ashehadheardhinted,thatsheandLordMayfieldwereveryclosefriends?
“Notintheleast.TotellyouthetruthIwasverysurprisedtomeetherhere.Verysurprisedindeed.”
PoirotinvitedMrs.Macatta’sopinionofMrs.Vanderlyn—andgotit.
“Oneofthoseabsolutelyuselesswomen,M.Poirot.Womenthatmakeonedespairofone’sownsex!Aparasite,firstandlastaparasite.”
“Menadmiredher?”
“Men!”Mrs.Macattaspokethewordwithcontempt.“Menarealwaystakeninbythoseveryobviousgoodlooks.Thatboy,now,youngReggieCarrington,flushingupeverytimeshespoketohim,absurdlyflatteredbybeingtakennoticeofbyher.Andthesillywaysheflatteredhimtoo.Praisinghisbridge—whichactuallywasfarfrombrilliant.”
“Heisnotagoodplayer?”
“Hemadeallsortsofmistakeslastnight.”
“LadyJuliaisagoodplayer,isshenot?”
“Muchtoogoodinmyopinion,”saidMrs.Macatta.“It’salmostaprofessionwithher.Sheplaysmorning,noon,andnight.”
“Forhighstakes?”
“Yes,indeed,muchhigherthanIwouldcaretoplay.IndeedIshouldn’tconsideritright.”
“Shemakesagooddealofmoneyatthegame?”
Mrs.Macattagavealoudandvirtuoussnort.
“Shereckonsonpayingherdebtsthatway.Butshe’sbeenhavingarunofbadlucklately,soI’veheard.Shelookedlastnightasthoughshehadsomethingonhermind.Theevilsofgambling,M.Poirot,areonlyslightlylessthantheevilscausedbydrink.IfIhadmywaythiscountryshouldbepurified—”
PoirotwasforcedtolistentoasomewhatlengthydiscussiononthepurificationofEngland’smorals.ThenheclosedtheconversationadroitlyandsentforReggieCarrington.
Hesummedtheyoungmanupcarefullyasheenteredtheroom,theweakmouthcamouflagedbytherathercharmingsmile,theindecisivechin,theeyessetfarapart,therathernarrowhead.HethoughtthatheknewReggieCarrington’stypefairlywell.
“Mr.ReggieCarrington?”
“Yes.AnythingIcando?”
“Justtellmewhatyoucanaboutlastnight?”
“Well,letmesee,weplayedbridge—inthedrawingroom.AfterthatIwentuptobed.”
“Thatwasatwhattime?”
“Justbeforeeleven.Isupposetherobberytookplaceafterthat?”
“Yes,afterthat.Youdidnothearorseeanything?”
Reggieshookhisheadregretfully.
“I’mafraidnot.IwentstraighttobedandIsleepprettysoundly.”
“Youwentstraightupfromthedrawingroomtoyourbedroomandremainedthereuntilthemorning?”
“That’sright.”
“Curious,”saidPoirot.
Reggiesaidsharply:
“Whatdoyoumean,curious?”
“Youdidnot,forinstance,hearascream?”
“No,Ididn’t.”
“Ah,verycurious.”
“Lookhere,Idon’tknowwhatyoumean.”
“Youare,perhaps,slightlydeaf?”
“Certainlynot.”
Poirot’slipsmoved.Itwaspossiblethathewasrepeatingthewordcuriousforthethirdtime.Thenhesaid:
“Well,thankyou,Mr.Carrington,thatisall.”
Reggiegotupandstoodratherirresolutely.
“Youknow,”hesaid,“nowyoucometomentionit,IbelieveIdidhearsomethingofthekind.”
“Ah,youdidhearsomething?”
“Yes,butyousee,Iwasreadingabook—adetectivestoryasamatteroffact—andI—well,Ididn’treallyquitetakeitin.”
“Ah,”saidPoirot,“amostsatisfyingexplanation.”
Hisfacewasquiteimpassive.
Reggiestillhesitated,thenheturnedandwalkedslowlytothedoor.Therehepausedandasked:
“Isay,whatwasstolen?”
“Somethingofgreatvalue,Mr.Carrington.ThatisallIamatlibertytosay.”
“Oh,”saidReggieratherblankly.
Hewentout.
Poirotnoddedhishead.
“Itfits,”hemurmured.“Itfitsverynicely.”
HetouchedabellandinquiredcourteouslyifMrs.Vanderlynwasupyet.
Seven
Mrs.Vanderlynsweptintotheroomlookingveryhandsome.Shewaswearinganartfully-cutrussetsportssuitthatshowedupthewarmlightsofherhair.Sheswepttoachairandsmiledinadazzlingfashionatthelittlemaninfrontofher.
Foramomentsomethingshowedthroughthesmile.Itmighthavebeentriumph,itmightalmosthavebeenmockery.Itwasgonealmostimmediately,butithadbeenthere.Poirotfoundthesuggestionofitinteresting.
“Burglars?Lastnight?Buthowdreadful!Whyno,Ineverheardathing.Whataboutthepolice?Can’ttheydoanything?”
Again,justforamoment,themockeryshowedinhereyes.
HerculePoirotthought:
“Itisveryclearthatyouarenotafraidofthepolice,mylady.Youknowverywellthattheyarenotgoingtobecalledin.”
Andfromthatfollowed—what?
Hesaidsoberly:
“Youcomprehend,madame,itisanaffairofthemostdiscreet.”
“Why,naturally,M.—Poirot—isn’tit?—Ishouldn’tdreamofbreathingaword.I’mmuchtoogreatanadmirerofdearLordMayfield’stodoanythingtocausehimtheleastlittlebitofworry.”
Shecrossedherknees.Ahighly-polishedslipperofbrownleatherdangledonthetipofhersilk-shodfoot.
Shesmiled,awarm,compellingsmileofperfecthealthanddeepsatisfaction.
“Dotellmeifthere’sanythingatallIcando?”
“Ithankyou,madame.Youplayedbridgeinthedrawingroomlastnight?”
“Yes.”
“Iunderstandthatthenalltheladieswentuptobed?”
“Thatisright.”
“Butsomeonecamebacktofetchabook.Thatwasyou,wasitnot,Mrs.Vanderlyn?”
“Iwasthefirstonetocomeback—yes.”
“Whatdoyoumean—thefirstone?”saidPoirotsharply.
“Icamebackrightaway,”explainedMrs.Vanderlyn.“ThenIwentupandrangformymaid.Shewasalongtimeincoming.Irangagain.ThenIwentoutonthelanding.IheardhervoiceandIcalledher.AftershehadbrushedmyhairIsentheraway,shewasinanervous,upsetstateandtangledthebrushinmyhaironceortwice.Itwasthen,justasIsentheraway,thatIsawLadyJuliacomingupthestairs.Shetoldmeshehadbeendownagainforabook,too.Curious,wasn’tit?”
Mrs.Vanderlynsmiledasshefinished,awide,ratherfelinesmile.HerculePoirotthoughttohimselfthatMrs.VanderlyndidnotlikeLadyJuliaCarrington.
“Asyousay,madame.Tellme,didyouhearyourmaidscream?”
“Why,yes,Ididhearsomethingofthatkind.”
“Didyouaskheraboutit?”
“Yes.Shetoldmeshethoughtshehadseenafloatingfigureinwhite—suchnonsense!”
“WhatwasLadyJuliawearinglastnight?”
“Oh,youthinkperhaps—Yes,Isee.Shewaswearingawhiteeveningdress.Ofcourse,thatexplainsit.Shemusthavecaughtsightofherinthedarknessjustasawhitefigure.Thesegirlsaresosuperstitious.”
“Yourmaidhasbeenwithyoualongtime,madame?”
“Oh,no.”Mrs.Vanderlynopenedhereyesratherwide.“Onlyaboutfivemonths.”
“Ishouldliketoseeherpresently,ifyoudonotmind,madame.”
Mrs.Vanderlynraisedhereyebrows.
“Oh,certainly,”shesaidrathercoldly.
“Ishouldlike,youunderstand,toquestionher.”
“Oh,yes.”
Againaflickerofamusement.
Poirotroseandbowed.
“Madame,”hesaid.“Youhavemycompleteadmiration.”
Mrs.Vanderlynforonceseemedatrifletakenaback.
“Oh,M.Poirot,howniceofyou,butwhy?”
“Youare,madame,soperfectlyarmoured,socompletelysureofyourself.”
Mrs.Vanderlynlaughedalittleuncertainly.
“NowIwonder,”shesaid,“ifIamtotakethatasacompliment?”
Poirotsaid:
“Itis,perhaps,awarning—nottotreatlifewitharrogance.”
Mrs.Vanderlynlaughedwithmoreassurance.Shegotupandheldoutahand.
“DearM.Poirot,Idowishyouallsuccess.Thankyouforallthecharmingthingsyouhavesaidtome.”
Shewentout.Poirotmurmuredtohimself:
“Youwishmesuccess,doyou?Ah,butyouareverysureIamnotgoingtomeetwithsuccess!Yes,youareverysureindeed.That,itannoysmeverymuch.”
Withacertainpetulance,hepulledthebellandaskedthatMademoiselleLeoniemightbesenttohim.
Hiseyesroamedoverherappreciativelyasshestoodhestiatinginthedoorway,demureinherblackdresswithherneatlypartedblackwavesofhairandhermodestly-droppedeyelids.Henoddedslowapproval.
“Comein,MademoiselleLeonie,”hesaid.“Donotbeafraid.”
Shecameinandstooddemurelybeforehim.
“Doyouknow,”saidPoirotwithasuddenchangeoftone,“thatIfindyouverygoodtolookat.”
Leonierespondedpromptly.Sheflashedhimaglanceoutofthecornerofhereyesandmurmuredsoftly:
“Monsieurisverykind.”
“Figuretoyourself,”saidPoirot.“IdemandofM.Carlilewhetheryouareornotgood-lookingandherepliesthathedoesnotknow!”
Leoniecockedherchinupcontemptuously.
“Thatimage!”
“Thatdescribeshimverywell.”
“Idonotbelievehehaseverlookedatagirlinhislife,thatone.”
“Probablynot.Apity.Hehasmissedalot.Butthereareothersinthishousewhoaremoreappreciative,isitnotso?”
“Really,Idonotknowwhatmonsieurmeans.”
“Oh,yes,MademoiselleLeonie,youknowverywell.Aprettyhistorythatyourecountlastnightaboutaghostthatyouhaveseen.AssoonasIhearthatyouarestandingtherewithyourhandstoyourhead,Iknowverywellthatthereisnoquestionofghosts.Ifagirlisfrightenedsheclaspsherheart,orsheraisesherhandstohermouthtostifleacry,butifherhandsareonherhairitmeanssomethingverydifferent.Itmeansthatherhairhasbeenruffledandthatsheishastilygettingitintoshapeagain!Nowthen,mademoiselle,letushavethetruth.Whydidyouscreamonthestairs?”
“Butmonsieuritistrue,Isawatallfigureallinwhite—”
“Mademoiselle,donotinsultmyintelligence.Thatstory,itmayhavebeengoodenoughforM.Carlile,butitisnotgoodenoughforHerculePoirot.Thetruthisthatyouhadjustbeenkissed,isitnotso?AndIwillmakeaguessthatitwasM.ReggieCarringtonwhokissedyou.”
Leonietwinkledanunabashedeyeathim
“Ehbien,”shedemanded,“afterall,whatisakiss?”
“What,indeed?”saidPoirotgallantly
“Yousee,theyounggentlemanhecameupbehindmeandcaughtmeroundthewaist—andsonaturallyhestartledmeandIscreamed.IfIhadknown—well,thennaturallyIwouldnothavescreamed.”
“Naturally,”agreedPoirot.
“Buthecameuponmelikeacat.ThenthestudydooropenedandoutcameM.lesecrétaireandtheyounggentlemanslippedawayupstairsandthereIwaslookinglikeafool.NaturallyIhadtosaysomething—especiallyto——”shebrokeintoFrench,“unjeunehommecomme?a,tellementcommeilfaut!”
“Soyouinventaghost?”
“Indeed,monsieur,itwasallIcouldthinkof.Atallfigureallinwhite,thatfloated.ItisridiculousbutwhatelsecouldIdo?”
“Nothing.Sonow,allisexplained.Ihadmysuspicionsfromthefirst.”
Leonieshothimaprovocativeglance.
“Monsieurisveryclever,andverysympathetic.”
“AndsinceIamnotgoingtomakeyouanyembarrassmentsovertheaffairyouwilldosomethingformeinreturn?”
“Mostwillingly,monsieur.”
“Howmuchdoyouknowofyourmistress’saffairs?”
Thegirlshruggedhershoulders.
“Notverymuch,monsieur.Ihavemyideas,ofcourse.”
“Andthoseideas?”
“Well,itdoesnotescapemethatthefriendsofmadamearealwayssoldiersorsailorsorairmen.Andthenthereareotherfriends—foreigngentlemenwhocometoseeherveryquietlysometimes.Madameisveryhandsome,thoughIdonotthinkshewillbesomuchlonger.Theyoungmen,theyfindherveryattractive.SometimesIthink,theysaytoomuch.Butitisonlymyidea,that.Madamedoesnotconfideinme.”
“Whatyouwouldhavemetounderstandisthatmadameplaysalonehand?”
“Thatisright,monsieur.”
“Inotherwords,youcannothelpme.”
“Ifearnot,monsieur.IwoulddoifIcould.”
“Tellme,yourmistressisinagoodmoodtoday?”
“Decidedly,monsieur.”
“Somethinghashappenedtopleaseher?”
“Shehasbeeningoodspiritseversinceshecamehere.”
“Well,Leonie,youshouldknow.”
Thegirlansweredconfidently:
“Yes,monsieur.Icouldnotbemistakenthere.Iknowallmadame’smoods.Sheisinhighspirits.”
“Positivelytriumphant?”
“Thatisexactlytheword,monsieur.”
Poirotnoddedgloomily.
“Ifindthat—alittlehardtobear.YetIperceivethatitisinevitable.Thankyou,mademoiselle,thatisall.”
Leoniethrewhimacoquettishglance.
“Thankyou,monsieur.IfImeetmonsieuronthestairs,bewell-assuredthatIshallnotscream.”
“Mychild,”saidPoirotwithdignity.“Iamofadvancedyears.WhathaveItodowithsuchfrivolities?”
Butwithalittletwitteroflaughter,Leonietookherselfoff.
Poirotpacedslowlyupanddowntheroom.Hisfacebecamegraveandanxious.
“Andnow,”hesaidatlast,“forLadyJulia.Whatwillshesay,Iwonder?”
LadyJuliacameintotheroomwithaquietairofassurance.Shebentherheadgraciously,acceptedthechairthatPoirotdrewforwardandspokeinalow,well-bredvoice.
“LordMayfieldsaysthatyouwishtoaskmesomequestions.”
“Yes,madame.Itisaboutlastnight.”
“Aboutlastnight,yes?”
“Whathappenedafteryouhadfinishedyourgameofbridge?”
“Myhusbandthoughtitwastoolatetobeginanother.Iwentuptobed.”
“Andthen?”
“Iwenttosleep.”
“Thatisall?”
“Yes.I’mafraidIcan’ttellyouanythingofmuchinterest.Whendidthis”—shehesitated—“burglaryoccur?”
“Verysoonafteryouwentupstairs.”
“Isee.Andwhatexactlywastaken?”
“Someprivatepapers,madame.”
“Importantpapers?”
“Veryimportant.”
Shefrownedalittleandthensaid:
“Theywere—valuable?”
“Yes,madame,theywereworthagooddealofmoney.”
“Isee.”
Therewasapause,andthenPoirotsaid:
“Whataboutyourbook,madame?”
“Mybook?”Sheraisedbewilderedeyestohim.
“Yes,IunderstandMrs.Vanderlyntosaythatsometimeafteryouthreeladieshadretiredyouwentdownagaintofetchabook.”
“Yes,ofcourse,soIdid.”
“Sothat,asamatteroffact,youdidnotgostraighttobedwhenyouwentupstairs?Youreturnedtothedrawingroom?”
“Yes,thatistrue.Ihadforgotten.”
“Whileyouwereinthedrawingroom,didyouhearsomeonescream?”
“No—yes—Idon’tthinkso.”
“Surely,madame.Youcouldnothavefailedtohearitinthedrawingroom.”
LadyJuliaflungherheadbackandsaidfirmly:
“Iheardnothing.”
Poirotraisedhiseyebrows,butdidnotreply.
Thesilencegrewuncomfortable.LadyJuliaaskedabruptly:
“Whatisbeingdone?”
“Beingdone?Idonotunderstandyou,madame.”
“Imeanabouttherobbery.Surelythepolicemustbedoingsomething.”
Poirotshookhishead.
“Thepolicehavenotbeencalledin.Iamincharge.”
Shestaredathim,herrestlesshaggardfacesharpenedandtense.Hereyes,darkandsearching,soughttopiercehisimpassivity.
Theyfellatlast—defeated.
“Youcannottellmewhatisbeingdone?”
“Icanonlyassureyou,madame,thatIamleavingnostoneunturned.”
“Tocatchthethief—orto—recoverthepapers?”
“Therecoveryofthepapersisthemainthing,madame.”
Hermannerchanged.Itbecamebored,listless.
“Yes,”shesaidindifferently.“Isupposeitis.”
Therewasanotherpause.
“Isthereanythingelse,M.Poirot?”
“No,madame.Iwillnotdetainyoufurther.”
“Thankyou.”
Heopenedthedoorforher.Shepassedoutwithoutglancingathim.
Poirotwentbacktothefireplaceandcarefullyrearrangedtheornamentsonthemantelpiece.HewasstillatitwhenLordMayfieldcameinthroughthewindow.
“Well?”saidthelatter.
“Verywell,Ithink.Eventsareshapingthemselvesastheyshould.”
LordMayfieldsaid,staringathim:
“Youarepleased.”
“No,Iamnotpleased.ButIamcontent.”
“Really,M.Poirot,Icannotmakeyouout.”
“Iamnotsuchacharlatanasyouthink.”
“Ineversaid—”
“No,butyouthought!Nomatter.Iamnotoffended.Itissometimesnecessaryformetoadoptacertainpose.”
LordMayfieldlookedathimdoubtfullywithacertainamountofdistrust.HerculePoirotwasamanhedidnotunderstand.Hewantedtodespisehim,butsomethingwarnedhimthatthisridiculouslittlemanwasnotsofutileasheappeared.CharlesMcLaughlinhadalwaysbeenabletorecognizecapabilitywhenhesawit.
“Well,”hesaid,“weareinyourhands.Whatdoyouadvisenext?”
“Canyougetridofyourguests?”
“Ithinkitmightbearranged…IcouldexplainthatIhavetogotoLondonoverthisaffair.Theywillthenprobablyoffertoleave.”
“Verygood.Tryandarrangeitlikethat.”
LordMayfieldhesitated.
“Youdon’tthink—?”
“Iamquitesurethatthatwouldbethewisecoursetotake.”
LordMayfieldshruggedhisshoulders.
“Well,ifyousayso.”
Hewentout.
Eight
Theguestsleftafterlunch.Mrs.VanderlynandMrs.Macattawentbytrain,theCarringtonshadtheircar.PoirotwasstandinginthehallasMrs.Vanderlynbadeherhostacharmingfarewell.
“Soterriblysorryforyouhavingthisbotherandanxiety.Idohopeitwillturnoutallrightforyou.Ishan’tbreatheawordofanything.”
ShepressedhishandandwentouttowheretheRollswaswaitingtotakehertothestation.Mrs.Macattawasalreadyinside.Heradieuhadbeencurtandunsympathetic.
SuddenlyLeonie,whohadbeengettinginfrontwiththechauffeur,camerunningbackintothehall.
“Thedressingcaseofmadame,itisnotinthecar,”sheexclaimed.
Therewasahurriedsearch.AtlastLordMayfielddiscovereditwhereithadbeenputdownintheshadowofanoldoakchest.Leonieutteredagladlittlecryassheseizedtheelegantaffairofgreenmorocco,andhurriedoutwithit.
ThenMrs.Vanderlynleanedoutofthecar.
“LordMayfield,LordMayfield.”Shehandedhimaletter.“Wouldyoumindputtingthisinyourpostbag?IfIkeepitmeaningtopostitintown,I’msuretoforget.Lettersjuststayinmybagfordays.”
SirGeorgeCarringtonwasfidgetingwithhiswatch,openingandshuttingit.Hewasamaniacforpunctuality.
“They’recuttingitfine,”hemurmured.“Veryfine.Unlessthey’recareful,they’llmissthetrain—”
Hiswifesaidirritably:
“Oh,don’tfuss,George.Afterall,it’stheirtrain,notours!”
Helookedatherreproachfully.
TheRollsdroveoff.
ReggiedrewupatthefrontdoorintheCarringtons’Morris.
“Allready,Father,”hesaid.
TheservantsbeganbringingouttheCarringtons’luggage.Reggiesuperviseditsdisposalinthedickey.
Poirotmovedoutofthefrontdoor,watchingtheproceedings.
Suddenlyhefeltahandonhisarm.LadyJulia’svoicespokeinanagitatedwhisper.
“M.Poirot.Imustspeaktoyou—atonce.”
Heyieldedtoherinsistenthand.Shedrewhimintoasmallmorningroomandclosedthedoor.Shecameclosetohim.
“Isittruewhatyousaid—thatthediscoveryofthepapersiswhatmattersmosttoLordMayfield?”
Poirotlookedathercuriously.
“Itisquitetrue,madame.”
“If—ifthosepaperswerereturnedtoyou,wouldyouundertakethattheyshouldbegivenbacktoLordMayfield,andnoquestionasked?”
“IamnotsurethatIunderstandyou.”
“Youmust!Iamsurethatyoudo!Iamsuggestingthatthe—thethiefshouldremainanonymousifthepapersarereturned.”
Poirotasked:
“Howsoonwouldthatbe,madame?”
“Definitelywithintwelvehours.”
“Youcanpromisethat?”
“Icanpromiseit.”
Ashedidnotanswer,sherepeatedurgently:
“Willyouguaranteethattherewillbenopublicity?”
Heansweredthen—verygravely:
“Yes,madame,Iwillguaranteethat.”
“Theneverythingcanbearranged.”
Shepassedabruptlyfromtheroom.AmomentlaterPoirotheardthecardriveaway.
Hecrossedthehallandwentalongthepassagetothestudy.LordMayfieldwasthere.HelookedupasPoirotentered.
“Well?”hesaid.
Poirotspreadouthishands.
“Thecaseisended,LordMayfield.”
“What?”
PoirotrepeatedwordforwordthescenebetweenhimselfandLadyJulia.
LordMayfieldlookedathimwithastupefiedexpression.
“Butwhatdoesitmean?Idon’tunderstand.”
“Itisveryclear,isitnot?LadyJuliaknowswhostoletheplans.”
“Youdon’tmeanshetookthemherself?”
“Certainlynot.LadyJuliamaybeagambler.Sheisnotathief.Butifsheofferstoreturntheplans,itmeansthattheyweretakenbyherhusbandorherson.NowSirGeorgeCarringtonwasoutontheterracewithyou.Thatleavesustheson.IthinkIcanreconstructthehappeningsoflastnightfairlyaccurately.LadyJuliawenttoherson’sroomlastnightandfounditempty.Shecamedownstairstolookforhim,butdidnotfindhim.Thismorningshehearsofthetheft,andshealsohearsthathersondeclaresthathewentstraighttohisroomandneverleftit.That,sheknows,isnottrue.Andsheknowssomethingelseaboutherson.Sheknowsthatheisweak,thatheisdesperatelyhardupformoney.ShehasobservedhisinfatuationforMrs.Vanderlyn.Thewholethingiscleartoher.Mrs.VanderlynhaspersuadedReggietostealtheplans.Butshedeterminestoplayherpartalso.ShewilltackleReggie,getholdofthepapersandreturnthem.”
“Butthewholethingisquiteimpossible,”criedLordMayfield.
“Yes,itisimpossible,butLadyJuliadoesnotknowthat.ShedoesnotknowwhatI,HerculePoirot,know,thatyoungReggieCarringtonwasnotstealingpaperslastnight,butinsteadwasphilanderingwithMrs.Vanderlyn’sFrenchmaid.”
“Thewholethingisamare’snest!”
“Exactly.”
“Andthecaseisnotendedatall!”
“Yes,itisended.I,HerculePoirot,knowthetruth.Youdonotbelieveme?YoudidnotbelievemeyesterdaywhenIsaidIknewwheretheplanswere.ButIdidknow.Theywereverycloseathand.”
“Where?”
“Theywereinyourpocket,mylord.”
Therewasapause,thenLordMayfieldsaid:
“Doyoureallyknowwhatyouaresaying,M.Poirot?”
“Yes,Iknow.IknowthatIamspeakingtoaverycleverman.Fromthefirstitworriedmethatyou,whowereadmittedlyshortsighted,shouldbesopositiveaboutthefigureyouhadseenleavingthewindow.Youwantedthatsolution—theconvenientsolution—tobeaccepted.Why?Later,onebyone,Ieliminatedeveryoneelse.Mrs.Vanderlynwasupstairs,SirGeorgewaswithyouontheterrace,ReggieCarringtonwaswiththeFrenchgirlonthestairs,Mrs.Macattawasblamelesslyinherbedroom.(Itisnexttothehousekeeper’sroom,andMrs.Macattasnores!)LadyJuliaclearlybelievedhersonguilty.Sothereremainedonlytwopossibilities.EitherCarliledidnotputthepapersonthedeskbutintohisownpocket(andthatisnotreasonable,because,asyoupointedout,hecouldhavetakenatracingofthem),orelse—orelsetheplansweretherewhenyouwalkedovertothedesk,andtheonlyplacetheycouldhavegonewasintoyourpocket.Inthatcaseeverythingwasclear.Yourinsistenceonthefigureyouhadseen,yourinsistenceonCarlile’sinnocence,yourdisinclinationtohavemesummoned.
“Onethingdidpuzzleme—themotive.Youwere,Iwasconvinced,anhonestman,amanofintegrity.Thatshowedinyouranxietythatnoinnocentpersonshouldbesuspected.Itwasalsoobviousthatthetheftoftheplansmighteasilyaffectyourcareerunfavourably.Why,then,thiswhollyunreasonabletheft?Andatlasttheanswercametome.Thecrisisinyourcareer,someyearsago,theassurancesgiventotheworldbythePrimeMinisterthatyouhadhadnonegotiationswiththepowerinquestion.Supposethatthatwasnotstrictlytrue,thatthereremainedsomerecord—aletter,perhaps—showingthatinactualfactyouhaddonewhatyouhadpubliclydenied.Suchadenialwasnecessaryintheinterestsofpublicpolicy.Butitisdoubtfulifthemaninthestreetwouldseeitthatway.Itmightmeanthatatthemomentwhensupremepowermightbegivenintoyourhands,somestupidechofromthepastwouldundoeverything.
“Isuspectthatthatletterhasbeenpreservedinthehandsofacertaingovernment,thatthatgovernmentofferedtotradewithyou—theletterinexchangefortheplansofthenewbomber.Somemenwouldhaverefused.You—didnot!Youagreed.Mrs.Vanderlynwastheagentinthematter.Shecameherebyarrangementtomaketheexchange.Yougaveyourselfawaywhenyouadmittedthatyouhadformednodefinitestratagemforentrappingher.Thatadmissionmadeyourreasonforinvitingherhereincrediblyweak.
“Youarrangedtherobbery.Pretendedtoseethethiefontheterrace—therebyclearingCarlileofsuspicion.Evenifhehadnotlefttheroom,thedeskwassonearthewindowthatathiefmighthavetakentheplanswhileCarlilewasbusyatthesafewithhisbackturned.Youwalkedovertothedesk,tooktheplansandkeptthemonyourownpersonuntilthemomentwhen,byprearrangedplan,youslippedthemintoMrs.Vanderlyn’sdressingcase.Inreturnshehandedyouthefatalletterdisguisedasanunpostedletterofherown.”
Poirotstopped.
LordMayfieldsaid:
“Yourknowledgeisverycomplete,M.Poirot.Youmustthinkmeanunutterableskunk.”
Poirotmadeaquickgesture.
“No,no,LordMayfield.Ithink,asIsaid,thatyouareaverycleverman.Itcametomesuddenlyaswetalkedherelastnight.Youareafirst-classengineer.Therewillbe,Ithink,somesubtlealterationsinthespecificationsofthatbomber,alterationsdonesoskilfullythatitwillbedifficulttograspwhythemachineisnotthesuccessitoughttobe.Acertainforeignpowerwillfindthetypeafailure…Itwillbeadisappointmenttothem,Iamsure….”
Againtherewasasilence—thenLordMayfieldsaid:
“Youaremuchtooclever,M.Poirot.Iwillonlyaskyoutobelieveonething.Ihavefaithinmyself.IbelievethatIamthemantoguideEnglandthroughthedaysofcrisisthatIseecoming.IfIdidnothonestlybelievethatIamneededbymycountrytosteertheshipofstate,IwouldnothavedonewhatIhavedone—madethebestofbothworlds—savedmyselffromdisasterbyaclevertrick.”
“Mylord,”saidPoirot,“ifyoucouldnotmakethebestofbothworlds,youcouldnotbeapolitician!”
DEADMAN’SMIRROR
One
I
Theflatwasamodernone.Thefurnishingsoftheroomweremodern,too.Thearmchairsweresquarelybuilt,theuprightchairswereangular.Amodernwritingtablewassetsquarelyinfrontofthewindow,andatitsatasmall,elderlyman.Hisheadwaspracticallytheonlythingintheroomthatwasnotsquare.Itwasegg-shaped.
M.HerculePoirotwasreadingaletter:
Station:Whimperley.
HamboroughClose,
Telegrams:
HamboroughSt.Mary
HamboroughSt.John.
Westshire.
September24th,1936.
M.HerculePoirot.DearSir,—Amatterhasarisenwhichrequireshandlingwithgreatdelicacyanddiscretion.Ihaveheardgoodaccountsofyou,andhavedecidedtoentrustthemattertoyou.IhavereasontobelievethatIamthevictimoffraud,butforfamilyreasonsIdonotwishtocallinthepolice.Iamtakingcertainmeasuresofmyowntodealwiththebusiness,butyoumustbepreparedtocomedownhereimmediatelyonreceiptofatelegram.Ishouldbeobligedifyouwillnotanswerthisletter.Yoursfaithfully,GervaseChevenix-Gore.
TheeyebrowsofM.HerculePoirotclimbedslowlyuphisforeheaduntiltheynearlydisappearedintohishair.
“Andwho,then,”hedemandedofspace,“isthisGervaseChevenix-Gore?”
Hecrossedtoabookcaseandtookoutalarge,fatbook.
Hefoundwhathewantedeasilyenough.
Chevenix-Gore,SirGervaseFrancisXavier,10thBt.cr.1694;formerlyCaptain17thLancers;b.18thMay,1878;e.s.ofSirGuyChevenix-Gore,9thBt.,andLadyClaudiaBretherton,2nd.d.of8thEarlofWallingford.S.father,1911;m.1912,VandaElizabeth,e.d.ofColonelFrederickArbuthnot,q.v.;educ.Eton.ServedEuropeanWar,1914–18.Recreations:travelling,biggamehunting.Address:HamboroughSt.Mary,Westshire,and218LowndesSquare,S.W.1.Clubs:Cavalry.Travellers.
Poirotshookhisheadinaslightlydissatisfiedmanner.Foramomentortwoheremainedlostinthought,thenhewenttothedesk,pulledopenadrawerandtookoutalittlepileofinvitationcards.
Hisfacebrightened.
“Alabonneheure!Exactlymyaffair!Hewillcertainlybethere.”
II
AduchessgreetedM.HerculePoirotinfulsometones.
“Soyoucouldmanagetocomeafterall,M.Poirot!Why,that’ssplendid.”
“Thepleasureismine,madame,”murmuredPoirot,bowing.
Heescapedfromseveralimportantandsplendidbeings—afamousdiplomat,anequallyfamousactressandawell-knownsportingpeer—andfoundatlastthepersonhehadcometoseek,thatinvariably“alsopresent”guest,Mr.Satterthwaite.
Mr.Satterthwaitetwitteredamiably.
“Thedearduchess—Ialwaysenjoyherparties…Suchapersonality,ifyouknowwhatImean.IsawalotofherinCorsicasomeyearsago….”
Mr.Satterthwaite’sconversationwasapttobeundulyburdenedbymentionsofhistitledacquaintances.ItispossiblethathemaysometimeshavefoundpleasureinthecompanyofMessrs.Jones,BrownorRobinson,but,ifso,hedidnotmentionthefact.Andyet,todescribeMr.Satterthwaiteasameresnobandleaveitatthatwouldhavebeentodohimaninjustice.Hewasakeenobserverofhumannature,andifitistruethatthelooker-onknowsmostofthegame,Mr.Satterthwaiteknewagooddeal.
“Youknow,mydearfellow,itisreallyagessinceIsawyou.IalwaysfeelmyselfprivilegedtohaveseenyouworkatclosequartersintheCrow’sNestbusiness.IfeelsincethenthatIamintheknow,sotospeak.IsawLadyMaryonlylastweek,bytheway.Acharmingcreature—potpourriandlavender!”
Afterpassinglightlyononeortwoscandalsofthemoment—theindiscretionsofanearl’sdaughter,andthelamentableconductofaviscount—PoirotsucceededinintroducingthenameofGervaseChevenix-Gore.
Mr.Satterthwaiterespondedimmediately.
“Ah,now,thereisacharacter,ifyoulike!TheLastoftheBaronets—that’shisnickname.”
“Pardon,Idonotquitecomprehend.”
Mr.Satterthwaiteunbentindulgentlytothelowercomprehensionofaforeigner.
“It’sajoke,youknow—ajoke.Naturally,he’snotreallythelastbaronetinEngland—buthedoesrepresenttheendofanera.TheBoldBadBaronet—themadharum-scarumbaronetsopopularinthenovelsofthelastcentury—thekindoffellowwholaidimpossiblewagersandwon’em.”
Hewentontoexpoundwhathemeantinmoredetail.Inyoungeryears,GervaseChevenix-Gorehadsailedroundtheworldinawindjammer.HehadbeenonanexpeditiontothePole.Hehadchallengedaracingpeertoaduel.Forawagerhehadriddenhisfavouritemareupthestaircaseofaducalhouse.Hehadonceleaptfromaboxtothestageandcarriedoffawell-knownactressinthemiddleofherr?le.
Theanecdotesofhimwereinnumerable.
“It’sanoldfamily,”wentonMr.Satterthwaite.“SirGuydeChevenixwentonthefirstcrusade.Now,alas,thelinelookslikeit’scomingtoanend.OldGervaseisthelastChevenix-Gore.”
“Theestate,itisimpoverished?”
“Notabitofit.Gervaseisfabulouslywealthy.Ownsvaluablehouseproperty—coalfields—andinadditionhestakedoutaclaimtosomemineinPeruorsomewhereinSouthAmerica,whenhewasayoungman,whichhasyieldedhimafortune.Anamazingman.Alwaysluckyineverythinghe’sundertaken.”
“Heisnowanelderlyman,ofcourse?”
“Yes,pooroldGervase.”Mr.Satterthwaitesighed,shookhishead.“Mostpeoplewoulddescribehimtoyouasmadasahatter.It’strue,inaway.Heismad—notinthesenseofbeingcertifiableorhavingdelusions—butmadinthesenseofbeingabnormal.He’salwaysbeenamanofgreatoriginalityofcharacter.”
“Andoriginalitybecomeseccentricityastheyearsgoby?”suggestedPoirot.
“Verytrue.That’sexactlywhat’shappenedtopooroldGervase.”
“Hehasperhaps,aswollenideaofhisownimportance?”
“Absolutely.Ishouldimaginethat,inGervase’smind,theworldhasalwaysbeendividedintotwoparts—therearetheChevenix-Gores,andtheotherpeople!”
“Anexaggeratedsenseoffamily!”
“Yes.TheChevenix-Goresareallarrogantasthedevil—alawuntothemselves.Gervase,beingthelastofthem,hasgotitbadly.Heis—well,really,youknow,tohearhimtalk,youmightimaginehimtobe—er,theAlmighty!”
Poirotnoddedhisheadslowlyandthoughtfully.
“Yes,Iimaginedthat.Ihavehad,yousee,aletterfromhim.Itwasanunusualletter.Itdidnotdemand.Itsummoned!”
“Aroyalcommand,”saidMr.Satterthwaite,titteringalittle.
“Precisely.ItdidnotseemtooccurtothisSirGervasethatI,HerculePoirot,amamanofimportance,amanofinfiniteaffairs!ThatitwasextremelyunlikelythatIshouldbeabletoflingeverythingasideandcomehasteninglikeanobedientdog—likeamerenobody,gratifiedtoreceiveacommission!”
Mr.Satterthwaitebithislipinanefforttosuppressasmile.Itmayhaveoccurredtohimthatwhereegoismwasconcerned,therewasnotmuchtochoosebetweenHerculePoirotandGervaseChevenix-Gore.
Hemurmured:
“Ofcourse,ifthecauseofthesummonswasurgent—?”
“Itwasnot!”Poirot’shandsroseintheairinanemphaticgesture.“Iwastoholdmyselfathisdisposition,thatwasall,incaseheshouldrequireme!Enfin,jevousdemande!”
Againthehandsroseeloquently,expressingbetterthanwordscoulddoM.HerculePoirot’ssenseofutteroutrage.
“Itakeit,”saidMr.Satterthwaite,“thatyourefused?”
“Ihavenotyethadtheopportunity,”saidPoirotslowly.
“Butyouwillrefuse?”
Anewexpressionpassedoverthelittleman’sface.Hisbrowfurroweditselfperplexedly.
Hesaid:
“HowcanIexpressmyself?Torefuse—yes,thatwasmyfirstinstinct.ButIdonotknow…Onehas,sometimes,afeeling.Faintly,Iseemtosmellthefish….”
Mr.Satterthwaitereceivedthislaststatementwithoutanysignofamusement.
“Oh?”hesaid.“Thatisinteresting….”
“Itseemstome,”wentonHerculePoirot,“thatamansuchasyouhavedescribedmightbeveryvulnerable—”
“Vulnerable?”queriedMr.Satterthwaite.Forthemomenthewassurprised.ThewordwasnotonethathewouldnaturallyhaveassociatedwithGervaseChevenix-Gore.Buthewasamanofperception,quickinobservation.Hesaidslowly:
“IthinkIseewhatyoumean.”
“Suchaoneisencased,ishenot,inanarmour—suchanarmour!Thearmourofthecrusaderswasnothingtoit—anarmourofarrogance,ofpride,ofcompleteself-esteem.Thisarmour,itisinsomewaysaprotection,thearrows,theeverydayarrowsoflifeglanceoffit.Butthereisthisdanger;Sometimesamaninarmourmightnotevenknowhewasbeingattacked.Hewillbeslowtosee,slowtohear—slowerstilltofeel.”
Hepaused,thenaskedwithachangeofmanner:
“OfwhatdoesthefamilyofthisSirGervaseconsist?”
“There’sVanda—hiswife.ShewasanArbuthnot—veryhandsomegirl.She’sstillquiteahandsomewoman.Frightfullyvague,though.DevotedtoGervase.She’sgotaleaningtowardstheoccult,Ibelieve.Wearsamuletsandscarabsandgivesoutthatshe’sthereincarnationofanEgyptianQueen…Thenthere’sRuth—she’stheiradopteddaughter.They’venochildrenoftheirown.Veryattractivegirlinthemodernstyle.That’sallthefamily.Except,ofcourse,forHugoTrent.He’sGervase’snephew.PamelaChevenix-GoremarriedReggieTrentandHugowastheironlychild.He’sanorphan.Hecan’tinheritthetitle,ofcourse,butIimaginehe’llcomeinformostofGervase’smoneyintheend.Good-lookinglad,he’sintheBlues.”
Poirotnoddedhisheadthoughtfully.Thenheasked:
“ItisagrieftoSirGervase,yes,thathehasnosontoinherithisname?”
“Ishouldimaginethatitcutsprettydeep.”
“Thefamilyname,itisapassionwithhim?”
“Yes.”
Mr.Satterthwaitewassilentamomentortwo.Hewasveryintrigued.Finallyheventured:
“YouseeadefinitereasonforgoingdowntoHamboroughClose?”
Slowly,Poirotshookhishead.
“No,”hesaid.“AsfarasIcansee,thereisnoreasonatall.But,allthesame,IfancyIshallgo.”
Two
HerculePoirotsatinthecornerofafirst-classcarriagespeedingthroughtheEnglishcountryside.
Meditativelyhetookfromhispocketaneatlyfoldedtelegram,whichheopenedandreread:
Takefour-thirtyfromSt.PancrasinstructguardhaveexpressstoppedatWhimperley.Chevenix-Gore.
Hefoldedupthetelegramagainandputitbackinhispocket.
Theguardonthetrainhadbeenobsequious.ThegentlemanwasgoingtoHamboroughClose?Oh,yes,SirGervaseChevenix-Gore’sguestsalwayshadtheexpressstoppedatWhimperley.“Aspecialkindofprerogative,Ithinkitis,sir.”
Sincethentheguardhadpaidtwovisitstothecarriage—thefirstinordertoassurethetravellerthateverythingwouldbedonetokeepthecarriageforhimself,thesecondtoannouncethattheexpresswasrunningtenminuteslate.
Thetrainwasduetoarriveat7:50,butitwasexactlytwominutespasteightwhenHerculePoirotdescendedontotheplatformofthelittlecountrystationandpressedtheexpectedhalfcrownintotheattentiveguard’shand.
Therewasawhistlefromtheengine,andtheNorthernExpressbegantomoveoncemore.AtallchauffeurindarkgreenuniformsteppeduptoPoirot.
“Mr.Poirot?ForHamboroughClose?”
Hepickedupthedetective’sneatvaliseandledthewayoutofthestation.AbigRollswaswaiting.ThechauffeurheldthedooropenforPoirottogetin,arrangedasumptuousfurrugoverhisknees,andtheydroveoff.
Aftersometenminutesofcross-countrydriving,roundsharpcornersanddowncountrylanes,thecarturnedinatawidegatewayflankedwithhugestonegriffons.
Theydrovethroughaparkanduptothehouse.Thedoorofitwasopenedastheydrewup,andabutlerofimposingproportionsshowedhimselfuponthefrontstep.
“Mr.Poirot?Thisway,sir.”
Heledthewayalongthehallandthrewopenadoorhalfwayalongitontheright.
“Mr.HerculePoirot,”heannounced.
Theroomcontainedanumberofpeopleineveningdress,andasPoirotwalkedinhisquickeyesperceivedatoncethathisappearancewasnotexpected.Theeyesofallpresentrestedonhiminunfeignedsurprise.
Thenatallwoman,whosedarkhairwasthreadedwithgrey,madeanuncertainadvancetowardshim.
Poirotbowedoverherhand.
“Myapologies,madame,”hesaid.“Ifearthatmytrainwaslate.”
“Notatall,”saidLadyChevenix-Gorevaguely.Hereyesstillstaredathiminapuzzledfashion.“Notatall,Mr.—er—Ididn’tquitehear—”
“HerculePoirot.”
Hesaidthenameclearlyanddistinctly
Somewherebehindhimheheardasuddensharpintakeofbreath.
Atthesametimeherealizedthatclearlyhishostcouldnotbeintheroom.Hemurmuredgently:
“YouknewIwascoming,madame?”
“Oh—oh,yes…”Hermannerwasnotconvincing.“Ithink—ImeanIsupposeso,butIamsoterriblyimpractical,M.Poirot.Iforgeteverything.”Hertoneheldamelancholypleasureinthefact.“Iamtoldthings.Iappeartotakethemin—buttheyjustpassthroughmybrainandaregone!Vanished!Asthoughtheyhadneverbeen.”
Then,withaslightairofperformingadutylongoverdue,sheglancedroundhervaguelyandmurmured:
“Iexpectyouknoweverybody.”
Thoughthiswaspatentlynotthecase,thephrasewasclearlyawell-wornformulabymeansofwhichLadyChevenix-Goresparedherselfthetroubleofintroductionandthestrainofrememberingpeople’srightnames.
Makingasupremeefforttomeetthedifficultiesofthisparticularcase,sheadded:
“Mydaughter—Ruth.”
Thegirlwhostoodbeforehimwasalsotallanddark,butshewasofaverydifferenttype.Insteadoftheflattish,indeterminatefeaturesofLadyChevenix-Gore,shehadawell-chisellednose,slightlyaquiline,andaclear,sharplineofjaw.Herblackhairsweptbackfromherfaceintoamassoflittletightcurls.Hercolouringwasofcarnationclearnessandbrilliance,andowedlittletomakeup.Shewas,soHerculePoirotthought,oneoftheloveliestgirlshehadseen.
Herecognized,too,thatshehadbrainsaswellasbeauty,andguessedatcertainqualitiesofprideandtemper.Hervoice,whenshespoke,camewithaslightdrawlthatstruckhimasdeliberatelyputon.
“Howexciting,”shesaid,“toentertainM.HerculePoirot!Theoldmanarrangedalittlesurpriseforus,Isuppose.”
“SoyoudidnotknowIwascoming,mademoiselle?”hesaidquickly.
“Ihadn’tanideaofit.Asitis,Imustpostponegettingmyautographbookuntilafterdinner.”
Thenotesofagongsoundedfromthehall,thenthebutleropenedthedoorandannounced:
“Dinnerisserved.”
Andthen,almostbeforethelastword,“served,”hadbeenuttered,somethingverycurioushappened.Thepontificialdomesticfigurebecame,justforonemoment,ahighlyastonishedhumanbeing.
Themetamorphosiswassoquickandthemaskofthewell-trainedservantwasbackagainsosoon,thatanyonewhohadnothappenedtobelookingwouldnothavenoticedthechange.Poirot,however,hadhappenedtobelooking.Hewondered.
Thebutlerhesitatedinthedoorway.Thoughhisfacewasagaincorrectlyexpressionless,anairoftensionhungabouthisfigure.
LadyChevenix-Goresaiduncertainly:
“Oh,dear—thisismostextraordinary.Really,I—onehardlyknowswhattodo.”
RuthsaidtoPoirot:
“Thissingularconsternation,M.Poirot,isoccasionedbythefactthatmyfather,forthefirsttimeforatleasttwentyyears,islatefordinner.”
“Itismostextraordinary—”wailedLadyChevenix-Gore.“Gervasenever—”
Anelderlymanofuprightsoldierlycarriagecametoherside.Helaughedgenially.
“GoodoldGervase!Lateatlast!Uponmyword,we’llraghimoverthis.Elusivecollarstud,d’youthink?OrisGervaseimmunefromourcommonweaknesses?”
LadyChevenix-Goresaidinalow,puzzledvoice:
“ButGervaseisneverlate.”
Itwasalmostludicrous,theconsternationcausedbythissimplecontretemps.Andyet,toHerculePoirot,itwasnotludicrous…Behindtheconsternationhefeltuneasiness—perhapsevenapprehension.Andhe,too,founditstrangethatGervaseChevenix-Goreshouldnotappeartogreettheguesthehadsummonedinsuchamysteriousmanner.
Inthemeantime,itwasclearthatnobodyknewquitewhattodo.Anunprecedentedsituationhadarisenwithwhichnobodyknewhowtodeal.
LadyChevenix-Goreatlasttooktheinitiative,ifinitiativeitcanbecalled.Certainlyhermannerwasvagueintheextreme.
“Snell,”shesaid,“isyourmaster—?”
Shedidnotfinishthesentence,merelylookedatthebutlerexpectantly.
Snell,whowasclearlyusedtohismistress’smethodsofseekinginformation,repliedpromptlytotheunspecifiedquestion:
“SirGervasecamedownstairsatfiveminutestoeight,m’lady,andwentstraighttothestudy.”
“Oh,Isee—”Hermouthremainedopen,hereyesseemedfaraway.“Youdon’tthink—Imean—heheardthegong?”
“Ithinkhemusthavedoneso,m’lady,thegongbeingimmediatelyoutsidethestudydoor.Ididnot,ofcourse,knowthatSirGervasewasstillinthestudy,otherwiseIshouldhaveannouncedtohimthatdinnerwasready.ShallIdosonow,m’lady?”
LadyChevenix-Goreseizedonthesuggestionwithmanifestrelief.
“Oh,thankyou,Snell.Yes,pleasedo.Yes,certainly.”
Shesaid,asthebutlerlefttheroom:
“Snellissuchatreasure.Irelyonhimabsolutely.Ireallydon’tknowwhatIshoulddowithoutSnell.”
Somebodymurmuredasympatheticassent,butnobodyspoke.HerculePoirot,watchingthatroomfullofpeoplewithsuddenlysharpenedattention,hadanideathatoneandallwereinastateoftension.Hiseyesranquicklyoverthem,tabulatingthemroughly.Twoelderlymen,thesoldierlyonewhohadspokenjustnow,andathin,spare,grey-hairedmanwithcloselypinchedlegallips.Twoyoungishmen—verydifferentintypefromeachother.Onewithamoustacheandanairofmodestarrogance,heguessedtobepossiblySirGervase’snephew,theoneintheBlues.Theother,withsleekbrushed-backhairandaratherobviousstyleofgoodlooks,heputdownasofadefinitelyinferiorsocialclass
Snellappearedatthedoor.Hismannerwasperfect,butonceagaintheveneeroftheimpersonalbutlershowedsignsoftheperturbedhumanbeingbeneaththesurface.
“Excuseme,m’lady,thestudydoorislocked.”
“Locked?”
Itwasaman’svoice—young,alert,witharingofexcitementinit.Itwasthegood-lookingyoungmanwiththeslicked-backhairwhohadspoken.Hewenton,hurryingforward:
“ShallIgoandsee—?”
ButveryquietlyHerculePoirottookcommand.Hediditsonaturallythatnoonethoughtitoddthatthisstranger,whohadjustarrived,shouldsuddenlyassumechargeofthesituation.
“Come,”hesaid.“Letusgotothestudy.”
Hecontinued,speakingtoSnell:
“Leadtheway,ifyouplease.”
Snellobeyed.Poirotfollowedclosebehindhim,and,likeaflockofsheep,everyoneelsefollowed.
Snellledthewaythroughthebighall,pastthegreatbranchingcurveofthestaircase,pastanenormousgrandfatherclockandarecessinwhichstoodagong,alonganarrowpassagewhichendedinadoor.
HerePoirotpassedSnellandgentlytriedthehandle.Itturned,butthedoordidnotopen.Poirotrappedgentlywithhisknucklesonthepanelofthedoor.Herappedlouderandlouder.Then,suddenlydesisting,hedroppedtohiskneesandappliedhiseyetothekeyhole.
Slowlyherosetohisfeetandlookedround.Hisfacewasstern.
“Gentlemen!”hesaid.“Thisdoormustbebrokenopenimmediately!”
Underhisdirectionthetwoyoungmen,whowerebothtallandpowerfullybuilt,attackedthedoor.Itwasnoeasymatter.ThedoorsofHamboroughCloseweresolidlybuilt.
Atlast,however,thelockgave,andthedoorswunginwardswithanoiseofsplintering,rendingwood.
Andthen,foramoment,everyonestoodstill,huddledinthedoorwaylookingatthesceneinside.Thelightswereon.Alongtheleft-handwallwasabigwritingtable,amassiveaffairofsolidmahogany.Sitting,notatthetable,butsidewaystoit,sothathisbackwasdirectlytowardsthem,wasabigmansloucheddowninachair.Hisheadandtheupperpartofhisbodyhungdownovertherightsideofthechair,andhisrighthandandarmhunglimplydown.Justbelowitonthecarpetwasasmall,gleamingpistol….
Therewasnoneedofspeculation.Thepicturewasclear.SirGervaseChevenix-Gorehadshothimself.
Three
Foramomentortwothegroupinthedoorwaystoodmotionless,staringatthescene.ThenPoirotstrodeforward.
AtthesamemomentHugoTrentsaidcrisply:
“MyGod,theOldMan’sshothimself!”
Andtherewasalong,shudderingmoanfromLadyChevenix-Gore.
“Oh,Gervase—Gervase!”
OverhisshoulderPoirotsaidsharply:
“TakeLadyChevenix-Goreaway.Shecandonothinghere.”
Theelderlysoldierlymanobeyed.Hesaid:
“Come,Vanda.Come,mydear.Youcandonothing.It’sallover.Ruth,comeandlookafteryourmother.”
ButRuthChevenix-GorehadpressedintotheroomandstoodclosebyPoirot’ssideashebentoverthedreadfulsprawledfigureinthechair—thefigureofamanofHerculeanbuildwithaVikingbeard.
Shesaidinalow,tensevoice,curiouslyrestrainedandmuffled:
“You’requitesurehe’s—dead?”
Poirotlookedup.
Thegirl’sfacewasalivewithsomeemotion—anemotionsternlycheckedandrepressed—thathedidnotquiteunderstand.Itwasnotgrief—itseemedmorelikeakindofhalf-fearfulexcitement.
Thelittlewomaninthepince-nezmurmured:
“Yourmother,mydear—don’tyouthink—?”
Inahigh,hystericalvoicethegirlwiththeredhaircriedout:
“Thenitwasn’tacarorachampagnecork!Itwasashotweheard….”
Poirotturnedandfacedthemall.
“Somebodymustcommunicatewiththepolice—”
RuthChevenix-Gorecriedoutviolently:
“No!”
Theelderlymanwiththelegalfacesaid:
“Unavoidable,Iamafraid.Willyouseetothat,Burrows?Hugo—”
Poirotsaid:
“YouareMr.HugoTrent?”tothetallyoungmanwiththemoustache.“Itwouldbewell,Ithink,ifeveryoneexceptyouandIweretoleavethisroom.”
Againhisauthoritywasnotquestioned.Thelawyershepherdedtheothersaway.PoirotandHugoTrentwereleftalone.
Thelattersaid,staring:
“Lookhere—whoareyou?Imean,Ihaven’tthefoggiestidea.Whatareyoudoinghere?”
Poirottookacardcasefromhispocketandselectedacard.
HugoTrentsaid,staringatit:
“Privatedetective—eh?Ofcourse,I’veheardofyou…ButIstilldon’tseewhatyouaredoinghere.”
“Youdidnotknowthatyouruncle—hewasyouruncle,washenot—?”
Hugo’seyesdroppedforafleetingmomenttothedeadman.
“TheOldMan?Yes,hewasmyuncleallright.”
“Youdidnotknowthathehadsentforme?”
Hugoshookhishead.Hesaidslowly:
“I’dnoideaofit.”
Therewasanemotioninhisvoicethatwasratherhardtoclassify.Hisfacelookedwoodenandstupid—thekindofexpression,Poirotthought,thatmadeausefulmaskintimesofstress.
Poirotsaidquietly:
“WeareinWestshire,arewenot?IknowyourChiefConstable,MajorRiddle,verywell.”
Hugosaid:
“Riddlelivesabouthalfamileaway.He’llprobablycomeoverhimself.”
“That,”saidPoirot,“willbeveryconvenient.”
Hebeganprowlinggentlyroundtheroom.Hetwitchedasidethewindowcurtainandexaminedthefrenchwindows,tryingthemgently.Theywereclosed.
Onthewallbehindthedesktherehungaroundmirror.Themirrorwasshivered.Poirotbentdownandpickedupasmallobject.
“What’sthat?”askedHugoTrent.
“Thebullet.”
“Itpassedstraightthroughhisheadandstruckthemirror?”
“Itseemsso.”
Poirotreplacedthebulletmeticulouslywherehehadfoundit.Hecameuptothedesk.Somepaperswerearrangedneatlystackedinheaps.OntheblottingpaditselftherewasaloosesheetofpaperwiththewordSORRYprintedacrossitinlarge,shakyhandwriting.
Hugosaid:“Hemusthavewrittenthatjustbeforehe—didit.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.
Helookedagainatthesmashedmirror,thenatthedeadman.Hisbrowcreaseditselfalittleasthoughinperplexity.Hewentovertothedoor,whereithungcrookedlywithitssplinteredlock.Therewasnokeyinthedoor,asheknew—otherwisehewouldnothavebeenabletoseethroughthekeyhole.Therewasnosignofitonthefloor.Poirotleanedoverthedeadmanandranhisfingersoverhim.
“Yes,”hesaid.“Thekeyisinhispocket.”
Hugodrewoutacigarettecaseandlightedacigarette.Hespokeratherhoarsely.
“Itseemsallquiteclear,”hesaid.“Myuncleshuthimselfupinhere,scrawledthatmessageonapieceofpaper,andthenshothimself.”
Poirotnoddedmeditatively.Hugowenton:
“ButIdon’tunderstandwhyhesentforyou.Whatwasitallabout?”
“Thatisrathermoredifficulttoexplain.Whilewearewaiting,Mr.Trent,fortheauthoritiestotakecharge,perhapsyouwilltellmeexactlywhoallthepeoplearewhomIsawtonightwhenIarrived?”
“Whotheyare?”Hugospokealmostabsently.“Oh,yes,ofcourse.Sorry.Shallwesitdown?”Heindicatedasetteeinthefarthestcorneroftheroomfromthebody.Hewenton,speakingjerkily:“Well,there’sVanda—myaunt,youknow.AndRuth,mycousin.Butyouknowthem.ThentheothergirlisSusanCardwell.She’sjuststayinghere.Andthere’sColonelBury.He’sanoldfriendofthefamily.AndMr.Forbes.He’sanoldfriend,too,besidebeingthefamilylawyerandallthat.BoththeoldboyshadapassionforVandawhenshewasyoung,andtheystillhangroundinafaithful,devotedsortofway.Ridiculous,butrathertouching.Thenthere’sGodfreyBurrows,theOldMan’s—Imeanmyuncle’s—secretary,andMissLingard,who’sheretohelphimwriteahistoryoftheChevenix-Gores.Shemugsuphistoricalstuffforwriters.That’sthelot,Ithink.”
Poirotnodded.Thenhesaid:
“AndIunderstandyouactuallyheardtheshotthatkilledyouruncle?”
“Yes,wedid.Thoughtitwasachampagnecork—atleast,Idid.SusanandMissLingardthoughtitwasacarbackfiringoutside—theroadrunsquitenear,youknow.”
“Whenwasthis?”
“Oh,abouttenpasteight.Snellhadjustsoundedthefirstgong.”
“Andwherewereyouwhenyouheardit?”
“Inthehall.We—wewerelaughingaboutit—arguing,youknow,astowherethesoundcamefrom.Isaiditcamefromthediningroom,andSusansaiditcamefromthedirectionofthedrawingroom,andMissLingardsaiditsoundedlikeupstairs,andSnellsaiditcamefromtheroadoutside,onlyitcamethroughtheupstairswindows.AndSusansaid,“Anymoretheories?”AndIlaughedandsaidtherewasalwaysmurder!Seemsprettyrottentothinkofitnow.”
Hisfacetwitchednervously.
“ItdidnotoccurtoanyonethatSirGervasemighthaveshothimself?”
“No,ofcoursenot.”
“Youhave,infact,noideawhyheshouldhaveshothimself?”
Hugosaidslowly:
“Oh,well,Ishouldn’tsaythat—”
“Youhaveanidea?”
“Yes—well—it’sdifficulttoexplain.NaturallyIdidn’texpecthimtocommitsuicide,butallthesameI’mnotfrightfullysurprised.Thetruthofitisthatmyunclewasasmadasahatter,M.Poirot.Everyoneknewthat.”
“Thatstrikesyouasasufficientexplanation?”
“Well,peopledoshootthemselveswhenthey’reabitbarmy.”
“Anexplanationofanadmirablesimplicity.”
Hugostared.
Poirotgotupagainandwanderedaimlesslyroundtheroom.Itwascomfortablyfurnished,mainlyinaratherheavyVictorianstyle.Thereweremassivebookcases,hugearmchairs,andsomeuprightchairsofgenuineChippendale.Therewerenotmanyornaments,butsomebronzesonthemantelpieceattractedPoirot’sattentionandapparentlystirredhisadmiration.Hepickedthemuponebyone,carefullyexaminingthembeforereplacingthemwithcare.Fromtheoneontheextremelefthedetachedsomethingwithafingernail.
“What’sthat?”askedHugowithoutmuchinterest.
“Nothingverymuch.Atinysliveroflookingglass.”
Hugosaid:
“Funnythewaythatmirrorwassmashedbytheshot.Abrokenmirrormeansbadluck.PooroldGervase…Isupposehisluckhadheldabittoolong.”
“Yourunclewasaluckyman?”
Hugogaveashortlaugh.
“Why,hisluckwasproverbial!Everythinghetouchedturnedtogold!Ifhebackedanoutsider,itrompedhome!Ifheinvestedinadoubtfulmine,theystruckaveinoforeatonce!He’shadthemostamazingescapesfromthetightestoftightplaces.Hislife’sbeensavedbyakindofmiraclemorethanonce.Hewasratherafineoldboy,inhisway,youknow.He’dcertainly‘beenplacesandseenthings’—morethanmostofhisgeneration.”
Poirotmurmuredinaconversationaltone:
“Youwereattachedtoyouruncle,Mr.Trent?”
HugoTrentseemedalittlestartledbythequestion.
“Oh—er—yes,ofcourse,”hesaidrathervaguely.“Youknow,hewasabitdifficultattimes.Frightfulstraintolivewith,andallthat.FortunatelyIdidn’thavetoseemuchofhim.”
“Hewasfondofyou?”
“Notsothatyou’dnoticeit!Asamatteroffact,heratherresentedmyexistence,sotospeak.”
“Howwasthat,Mr.Trent?”
“Well,yousee,hehadnosonofhisown—andhewasprettysoreaboutit.Hewasmadaboutfamilyandallthatsortofthing.IbelieveitcuthimtothequicktoknowthatwhenhediedtheChevenix-Goreswouldceasetoexist.They’vebeengoingeversincetheNormanConquest,youknow.TheOldManwasthelastofthem.Isupposeitwasratherrottenfromhispointofview.”
“Youyourselfdonotsharethatsentiment?”
Hugoshruggedhisshoulders.
“Allthatsortofthingseemstomeratheroutofdate.”
“Whatwillhappentotheestate?”
“Don’treallyknow.Imightgetit.OrhemayhaveleftittoRuth.ProbablyVandahasitforherlifetime.”
“Youruncledidnotdefinitelydeclarehisintentions?”
“Well,hehadhispetidea.”
“Andwhatwasthat?”
“HisideawasthatRuthandIshouldmakeamatchofit.”
“Thatwoulddoubtlesshavebeenverysuitable.”
“Eminentlysuitable.ButRuth—well,Ruthhasverydecidedviewsofherownaboutlife.Mindyou,she’sanextremelyattractiveyoungwoman,andsheknowsit.She’sinnohurrytomarryandsettledown.”
Poirotleanedforward.
“Butyouyourselfwouldhavebeenwilling,M.Trent?”
Hugosaidinaboredtoneofvoice:
“Ireallycan’tseeitmakesaha’p’orthofdifferencewhoyoumarrynowadays.Divorceissoeasy.Ifyou’renothittingitoff,nothingiseasierthantocutthetangleandstartagain.”
ThedooropenedandForbesenteredwithatall,spruce-lookingman.
ThelatternoddedtoTrent.
“Hallo,Hugo.I’mextremelysorryaboutthis.Veryroughonallofyou.”
HerculePoirotcameforward.
“Howdoyoudo,MajorRiddle?Yourememberme?”
“Yes,indeed.”Thechiefconstableshookhands.“Soyou’redownhere?”
Therewasameditativenoteinhisvoice.HeglancedcuriouslyatHerculePoirot.
Four
“Well?”saidMajorRiddle.
Itwastwentyminuteslater.Thechiefconstable’sinterrogative“Well?”wasaddressedtothepolicesurgeon,alankelderlymanwithgrizzledhair.
Thelattershruggedhisshoulders.
“He’sbeendeadoverhalfanhour—butnotmorethananhour.Youdon’twanttechnicalities,Iknow,soI’llspareyouthem.Themanwasshotthroughthehead,thepistolbeingheldafewinchesfromtherighttemple.Bulletpassedrightthroughthebrainandoutagain.”
“Perfectlycompatiblewithsuicide?”
“Oh,perfectly.Thebodythenslumpeddowninthechair,andthepistoldroppedfromhishand.”
“You’vegotthebullet?”
“Yes.”Thedoctorhelditup.
“Good,”saidMajorRiddle.“We’llkeepitforcomparisonwiththepistol.Gladit’saclearcaseandnodifficulties.”
HerculePoirotaskedgently:
“Youaresuretherearenodifficulties,Doctor?”
Thedoctorrepliedslowly:
“Well,Isupposeyoumightcallonethingalittleodd.Whenheshothimselfhemusthavebeenleaningslightlyovertotheright.Otherwisethebulletwouldhavehitthewallbelowthemirror,insteadofplumbinthemiddle.”
“Anuncomfortablepositioninwhichtocommitsuicide,”saidPoirot.
Thedoctorshruggedhisshoulders.
“Oh,well—comfort—ifyou’regoingtoenditall—”Heleftthesentenceunfinished.
MajorRiddlesaid:
“Thebodycanbemovednow?”
“Oh,yes.I’vedonewithituntiltheP.-M.”
“Whataboutyou,Inspector?”MajorRiddlespoketoatallimpassive-facedmaninplainclothes.
“O.K.,sir.We’vegotallwewant.Onlythedeceased’sfingerprintsonthepistol.”
“Thenyoucangetonwithit.”
ThemortalremainsofGervaseChevenix-Gorewereremoved.ThechiefconstableandPoirotwerelefttogether.
“Well,”saidRiddle,“everythingseemsquiteclearandaboveboard.Doorlocked,windowfastened,keyofdoorindeadman’spocket.EverythingaccordingtoCocker—butforonecircumstance.”
“Andwhatisthat,myfriend?”inquiredPoirot.
“You!”saidRiddlebluntly.“Whatareyoudoingdownhere?”
Bywayofreply,Poirothandedtohimtheletterhehadreceivedfromthedeadmanaweekago,andthetelegramwhichhadfinallybroughthimthere.
“Humph,”saidthechiefconstable.“Interesting.We’llhavetogettothebottomofthis.Ishouldsayithadadirectbearinguponhissuicide.”
“Iagree.”
“Wemustcheckuponwhoisinthehouse.”
“Icantellyoutheirnames.IhavejustbeenmakinginquiriesofMr.Trent.”
Herepeatedthelistofnames.
“Perhapsyou,MajorRiddle,knowsomethingaboutthesepeople?”
“Iknowsomethingofthem,naturally.LadyChevenix-GoreisquiteasmadinherownwayasoldSirGervase.Theyweredevotedtoeachother—andbothquitemad.She’sthevaguestcreaturethateverlived,withanoccasionaluncannyshrewdnessthatstrikesthenailontheheadinthemostsurprisingfashion.Peoplelaughatheragooddeal.Ithinksheknowsit,butshedoesn’tcare.She’sabsolutelynosenseofhumour.”
“MissChevenix-Goreisonlytheiradopteddaughter,Iunderstand?”
“Yes.”
“Averyhandsomeyounglady.”
“She’sadevilishlyattractivegirl.Hasplayedhavocwithmostoftheyoungfellowsroundhere.Leadsthemallonandthenturnsroundandlaughsatthem.Goodseatonahorse,andwonderfulhands.”
“That,forthemoment,doesnotconcernus.”
“Er—no,perhapsnot…Well,abouttheotherpeople.IknowoldBury,ofcourse.He’sheremostofthetime.Almostatamecataboutthehouse.KindofA.D.C.toLadyChevenix-Gore.He’saveryoldfriend.They’veknownhimalltheirlives.IthinkheandSirGervasewerebothinterestedinsomecompanyofwhichBurywasadirector.”
“OswaldForbes,doyouknowanythingofhim?”
“IratherbelieveI’vemethimonce.”
“MissLingard?”
“Neverheardofher.”
“MissSusanCardwell?”
“Ratheragood-lookinggirlwithredhair?I’veseenheraboutwithRuthChevenix-Gorethelastfewdays.”
“Mr.Burrows?”
“Yes,Iknowhim.Chevenix-Gore’ssecretary.Betweenyouandme,Idon’ttaketohimmuch.He’sgood-looking,andknowsit.Notquiteoutofthetopdrawer.”
“HadhebeenwithSirGervaselong?”
“Abouttwoyears,Ifancy.”
“Andthereisnooneelse—?”
Poirotbrokeoff.
Atall,fair-hairedmaninaloungesuitcamehurryingin.Hewasoutofbreathandlookeddisturbed.
“Goodevening,MajorRiddle.IheardarumourthatSirGervasehadshothimself,andIhurrieduphere.Snelltellsmeit’strue.It’sincredible!Ican’tbelieveit!”
“It’strueenough,Lake.Letmeintroduceyou.ThisisCaptainLake,SirGervase’sagentfortheestate.M.HerculePoirot,ofwhomyoumayhaveheard.”
Lake’sfacelitupwithwhatseemedakindofdelightedincredulity.
“M.HerculePoirot?I’mmostawfullypleasedtomeetyou.Atleast—”Hebrokeoff,thequickcharmingsmilevanished—helookeddisturbedandupset.“Thereisn’tanything—fishy—aboutthissuicide,isthere,sir?”
“Whyshouldtherebeanything‘fishy,’asyoucallit?”askedthechiefconstablesharply.
“Imean,becauseM.Poirotishere.Oh,andbecausethewholebusinessseemssoincredible!”
“No,no,”saidPoirotquickly.“IamnothereonaccountofthedeathofSirGervase.Iwasalreadyinthehouse—asaguest.”
“Oh,Isee.Funny,henevertoldmeyouwerecomingwhenIwasgoingoveraccountswithhimthisafternoon.”
Poirotsaidquietly:
“Youhavetwiceusedtheword‘incredible,’CaptainLake.Areyou,then,sosurprisedtohearofSirGervasecommitingsuicide?”
“IndeedIam.Ofcourse,hewasmadasahatter;everyonewouldagreeaboutthat.Butallthesame,Isimplycan’timaginehisthinkingtheworldwouldbeabletogetonwithouthim.”
“Yes,”saidPoirot.“Itisapoint,that.”Andhelookedwithappreciationatthefrank,intelligentcountenanceoftheyoungman.
MajorRiddleclearedhisthroat.
“Sinceyouarehere,CaptainLake,perhapsyouwillsitdownandanswerafewquestions.”
“Certainly,sir.”
Laketookachairoppositetheothertwo.
“WhendidyoulastseeSirGervase?”
“Thisafternoon,justbeforethreeo’clock.Thereweresomeaccountstobechecked,andthequestionofanewtenantforoneofthefarms.”
“Howlongwereyouwithhim?”
“Perhapshalfanhour.”
“Thinkcarefully,andtellmewhetheryounoticedanythingunusualinhismanner.”
Theyoungmanconsidered.
“No,Ihardlythinkso.Hewas,perhaps,atrifleexcited—butthatwasn’tunusualwithhim.”
“Hewasnotdepressedinanyway?”
“Oh,no,heseemedingoodspirits.Hewasenjoyinghimselfverymuchjustnow,writingupahistoryofthefamily.”
“Howlonghadhebeendoingthis?”
“Hebeganitaboutsixmonthsago.”
“IsthatwhenMissLingardcamehere?”
“No.Shearrivedabouttwomonthsagowhenhehaddiscoveredthathecouldnotmanagethenecessaryresearchworkbyhimself.”
“Andyouconsiderhewasenjoyinghimself?”
“Oh,simplyenormously!Hereallydidn’tthinkthatanythingelsematteredintheworldexcepthisfamily.”
Therewasamomentarybitternessintheyoungman’stone.
“Then,asfarasyouknow,SirGervasehadnoworriesofanykind?”
Therewasaslight—averyslight—pausebeforeCaptainLakeanswered.
“No.”
Poirotsuddenlyinterposedaquestion:
“SirGervasewasnot,youthink,worriedabouthisdaughterinanyway?”
“Hisdaughter?”
“ThatiswhatIsaid.”
“NotasfarasIknow,”saidtheyoungmanstiffly.
Poirotsaidnothingfurther.MajorRiddlesaid:
“Well,thankyou,Lake.Perhapsyou’dstayaroundincaseImightwanttoaskyouanything.”
“Certainly,sir.”Herose.“AnythingIcando?”
“Yes,youmightsendthebutlerhere.Andperhapsyou’dfindoutformehowLadyChevenix-Goreis,andifIcouldhaveafewwordswithherpresently,orifshe’stooupset.”
Theyoungmannoddedandlefttheroomwithaquick,decisivestep.
“Anattractivepersonality,”saidHerculePoirot.
“Yes,nicefellow,andgoodathisjob.Everyonelikeshim.”
Five
“Sitdown,Snell,”saidMajorRiddleinafriendlytone.“I’veagoodmanyquestionstoaskyou,andIexpectthishasbeenashocktoyou.”
“Oh,ithasindeed,sir.Thankyou,sir.”Snellsatdownwithsuchadiscreetairthatitwaspracticallythesameasthoughhehadremainedonhisfeet.
“Beenhereagoodlongtime,haven’tyou?”
“Sixteenyears,sir,eversinceSirGervase—er—settleddown,sotospeak.”
“Ah,yes,ofcourse,yourmasterwasagreattravellerinhisday.”
“Yes,sir.HewentonanexpeditiontothePoleandmanyotherinterestingplaces.”
“Now,Snell,canyoutellmewhenyoulastsawyourmasterthisevening?”
“Iwasinthediningroom,sir,seeingthatthetablearrangementswereallcomplete.Thedoorintothehallwasopen,andIsawSirGervasecomedownthestairs,crossthehallandgoalongthepassagetothestudy.”
“Thatwasatwhattime?”
“Justbeforeeighto’clock.Itmighthavebeenasmuchasfiveminutesbeforeeight.”
“Andthatwasthelastyousawofhim?”
“Yes,sir.”
“Didyouhearashot?”
“Oh,yes,indeed,sir;butofcourseIhadnoideaatthetime—howshouldIhavehad?”
“Whatdidyouthinkitwas?”
“Ithoughtitwasacar,sir.Theroadrunsquiteneartheparkwall.Oritmighthavebeenashotinthewoods—apoacher,perhaps.Ineverdreamed—”
MajorRiddlecuthimshort.
“Whattimewasthat?”
“Itwasexactlyeightminutespasteight,sir.”
Thechiefconstablesaidsharply:
“Howisityoucanfixthetimetoaminute?”
“That’seasy,sir.Ihadjustsoundedthefirstgoing.”
“Thefirstgong?”
“Yes,sir.BySirGervase’sorders,agongwasalwaystobesoundedsevenminutesbeforetheactualdinnergong.Veryparticularhewas,sir,thateveryoneshouldbeassembledreadyinthedrawingroomwhenthesecondgongwent.AssoonasIhadsoundedthesecondgong,Iwenttothedrawingroomandannounceddinner,andeveryonewentin.”
“Ibegintounderstand,”saidHerculePoirot,“whyyoulookedsosurprisedwhenyouannounceddinnerthisevening.ItwasusualforSirGervasetobeinthedrawingroom?”
“I’dneverknownhimnotbetherebefore,sir.Itwasquiteashock.Ilittlethought—”
AgainMajorRiddleinterruptedadroitly:
“Andweretheothersalsousuallythere?”
Snellcoughed.
“Anyonewhowaslatefordinner,sir,wasneveraskedtothehouseagain.”
“H’m,verydrastic.”
“SirGervase,sir,employedachefwhowasformerlywiththeEmperorofMoravia.Heusedtosay,sir,thatdinnerwasasimportantasareligiousritual.”
“Andwhatabouthisownfamily?”
“LadyChevenix-Gorewasalwaysveryparticularnottoupsethim,sir,andevenMissRuthdarednotbelatefordinner.”
“Interesting,”murmuredHerculePoirot.
“Isee,”saidRiddle.“So,dinnerbeingataquarterpasteight,yousoundedthefirstgongateightminutespastasusual?”
“Thatisso,sir—butitwasn’tasusual.Dinnerwasusuallyateight.SirGervasegaveordersthatdinnerwastobeaquarterofanhourlaterthisevening,ashewasexpectingagentlemanbythelatetrain.”
SnellmadealittlebowtowardsPoirotashespoke.
“Whenyourmasterwenttothestudy,didhelookupsetorworriedinanyway?”
“Icouldnotsay,sir.Itwastoofarformetojudgeofhisexpression.Ijustnoticedhim,thatwasall.”
“Washeleftalonewhenhewenttothestudy?”
“Yes,sir.”
“Didanyonegotothestudyafterthat?”
“Icouldnotsay,sir.Iwenttothebutler’spantryafterthat,andwasthereuntilIsoundedthefirstgongateightminutespasteight.”
“Thatwaswhenyouheardtheshot?”
“Yes,sir.”
Poirotgentlyinterposedaquestion.
“Therewereothers,Ithink,whoalsoheardtheshot?”
“Yes,sir.Mr.HugoandMissCardwell.AndMissLingard.”
“Thesepeoplewerealsointhehall?”
“MissLingardcameoutfromthedrawingroom,andMissCardwellandMr.Hugowerejustcomingdownthestairs.”
Poirotasked:
“Wasthereanyconversationaboutthematter?”
“Well,sir,Mr.Hugoaskediftherewaschampagnefordinner.Itoldhimthatsherry,hockandburgundywerebeingserved.”
“Hethoughtitwasachampagnecork?”
“Yes,sir.”
“Butnobodytookitseriously?”
“Oh,no,sir.Theyallwentintothedrawingroomtalkingandlaughing.”
“Whereweretheothermembersofthehousehold?”
“Icouldnotsay,sir.”
MajorRiddlesaid:
“Doyouknowanythingaboutthispistol?”Hehelditoutashespoke.
“Oh,yes,sir.ThatbelongedtoSirGervase.Healwayskeptitinthedrawerofhisdeskinhere.”
“Wasitusuallyloaded?”
“Icouldn’tsay,sir.”
MajorRiddlelaiddownthepistolandclearedhisthroat.
“Now,Snell,I’mgoingtoaskyouaratherimportantquestion.Ihopeyouwillansweritastruthfullyasyoucan.Doyouknowofanyreasonwhichmightleadyourmastertocommitsuicide?”
“No,sir.Iknowofnothing.”
“SirGervasehadnotbeenoddinhismanneroflate?Notdepressed?Orworried?”
Snellcoughedapologetically.
“You’llexcusemysayingit,sir,butSirGervasewasalwayswhatmighthaveseemedtostrangersalittleoddinhismanner.Hewasahighlyoriginalgentleman,sir.”
“Yes,yes,Iamquiteawareofthat.”
“Outsiders,sir,didnotalwaysUnderstandSirGervase.”
Snellgavethephraseadefinitevalueofcapitalletter.
“Iknow.Iknow.Buttherewasnothingthatyouwouldhavecalledunusual?”
Thebutlerhesitated.
“Ithink,sir,thatSirGervasewasworriedaboutsomething,”hesaidatlast.
“Worriedanddepressed?”
“Ishouldn’tsaydepressed,sir.Butworried,yes.”
“Haveyouanyideaofthecauseofthatworry?”
“No,sir.”
“Wasitconnectedwithanyparticularperson,forinstance?”
“Icouldnotsayatall,sir.Inanycase,itisonlyanimpressionofmine.”
Poirotspokeagain.
“Youweresurprisedathissuicide?”
“Verysurprised,sir.Ithasbeenaterribleshocktome.Ineverdreamedofsuchathing.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.
Riddleglancedathim,thenhesaid:
“Well,Snell,Ithinkthatisallwewanttoaskyou.Youarequitesurethatthereisnothingelseyoucantellus—nounusualincident,forinstance,thathashappenedinthelastfewdays?”
Thebutler,risingtohisfeet,shookhishead.
“Thereisnothing,sir,nothingwhatever.”
“Thenyoucango.”
“Thankyou,sir.”
Movingtowardsthedoorway,Snelldrewbackandstoodaside.LadyChevenix-Gorefloatedintotheroom.
Shewaswearinganoriental-lookinggarmentofpurpleandorangesilkwoundtightlyroundherbody.Herfacewassereneandhermannercollectedandcalm.
“LadyChevenix-Gore.”MajorRiddlesprangtohisfeet.
Shesaid:
“Theytoldmeyouwouldliketotalktome,soIcame.”
“Shallwegointoanotherroom?Thismustbepainfulforyouintheextreme.”
LadyChevenix-GoreshookherheadandsatdownononeoftheChippendalechairs.Shemurmured:
“Oh,no,whatdoesitmatter?”
“Itisverygoodofyou,LadyChevenix-Gore,toputyourfeelingsaside.Iknowwhatafrightfulshockthismusthavebeenand—”
Sheinterruptedhim.
“Itwasratherashockatfirst,”sheadmitted.Hertonewaseasyandconversational.“ButthereisnosuchthingasDeath,really,youknow,onlyChange.”Sheadded:“Asamatteroffact,Gervaseisstandingjustbehindyourleftshouldernow.Icanseehimdistinctly.”
MajorRiddle’sleftshouldertwitchedslightly.HelookedatLadyChevenix-Goreratherdoubtfully.
Shesmiledathim,avague,happysmile
“Youdon’tbelieve,ofcourse!Sofewpeoplewill.Tome,thespiritworldisquiteasrealasthisone.Butpleaseaskmeanythingyoulike,anddon’tworryaboutdistressingme.I’mnotintheleastdistressed.Everything,yousee,isFate.Onecannotescapeone’sKarma.Itallfitsin—themirror—everything.”
“Themirror,madame?”askedPoirot.
Shenoddedherheadtowardsitvaguely.
“Yes.It’ssplintered,yousee.Asymbol!YouknowTennyson’spoem?Iusedtoreaditasagirl—though,ofcourse,Ididn’trealisethentheesotericsideofit.‘Themirrorcrackedfromsidetoside.“Thecurseiscomeuponme!”criedtheLadyofShalott.’That’swhathappenedtoGervase.TheCursecameuponhimsuddenly.Ithink,youknow,mostveryoldfamilieshaveacurse…themirrorcracked.Heknewthathewasdoomed!TheCursehadcome!”
“But,madame,itwasnotacursethatcrackedthemirror—itwasabullet!”
LadyChevenix-Goresaid,stillinthesamesweetvaguemanner:
“It’sallthesamething,really…ItwasFate.”
“Butyourhusbandshothimself.”
LadyChevenix-Goresmiledindulgently.
“Heshouldn’thavedonethat,ofcourse.ButGervasewasalwaysimpatient.Hecouldneverwait.Hishourhadcome—hewentforwardtomeetit.It’sallsosimple,really.”
MajorRiddle,clearinghisthroatinexasperation,saidsharply:
“Thenyouweren’tsurprisedatyourhusband’stakinghisownlife?Hadyoubeenexpectingsuchathingtohappen?”
“Oh,no.”Hereyesopenedwide.“Onecan’talwaysforeseethefuture.Gervase,ofcourse,wasaverystrangeman,averyunusualman.Hewasquiteunlikeanyoneelse.HewasoneoftheGreatOnesbornagain.I’veknownthatforsometime.Ithinkheknewithimself.Hefounditveryhardtoconformtothesillylittlestandardsoftheeverydayworld.”Sheadded,lookingoverMajorRiddle’sshoulder,“He’ssmilingnow.He’sthinkinghowfoolishweallare.Sowearereally.Justlikechildren.Pretendingthatlifeisrealandthatitmatters…LifeisonlyoneoftheGreatIllusions.”
Feelingthathewasfightingalosingbattle,MajorRiddleaskeddesperately:
“Youcan’thelpusatallastowhyyourhusbandshouldhavetakenhislife?”
Sheshruggedherthinshoulders.
“Forcesmoveus—theymoveus…Youcannotunderstand.Youmoveonlyonthematerialplane.”
Poirotcoughed.
“Talkingofthematerialplane,haveyouanyidea,madame,astohowyourhusbandhaslefthismoney?”
“Money?”shestaredathim.“Ineverthinkofmoney.”
Hertonewasdisdainful.
Poirotswitchedtoanotherpoint.
“Atwhattimedidyoucomedownstairstodinnertonight?”
“Time?WhatisTime?Infinite,thatistheanswer.Timeisinfinite.”
Poirotmurmured:
“Butyourhusband,madame,wasratherparticularabouttime—especially,soIhavebeentold,asregardsthedinnerhour.”
“DearGervase,”shesmiledindulgently.“Hewasveryfoolishaboutthat.Butitmadehimhappy.Sowewereneverlate.”
“Wereyouinthedrawingroom,madame,whenthefirstgongwent?”
“No,Iwasinmyroomthen.”
“Doyourememberwhowasinthedrawingroomwhenyoudidcomedown?”
“Nearlyeverybody,Ithink,”saidLadyChevenix-Gorevaguely.“Doesitmatter?”
“Possiblynot,”admittedPoirot.“Thenthereissomethingelse.Didyourhusbandevertellyouthathesuspectedhewasbeingrobbed?”
LadyChevenix-Goredidnotseemmuchinterestedinthequestion.
“Robbed?No,Idon’tthinkso.”
“Robbed,swindled—victimizedinsomeway—?”
“No—no—Idon’tthinkso…Gervasewouldhavebeenveryangryifanybodyhaddaredtodoanythinglikethat.”
“Atanyratehesaidnothingaboutittoyou?”
“No—no.”LadyChevenix-Goreshookherhead,stillwithoutmuchrealinterest.“Ishouldhaveremembered….”
“Whendidyoulastseeyourhusbandalive?”
“Helookedin,asusual,onhiswaydownstairsbeforedinner.Mymaidwasthere.Hejustsaidhewasgoingdown.”
“Whathashetalkedaboutmostinthelastfewweeks?”
“Oh,thefamilyhistory.Hewasgettingonsowellwithit.Hefoundthatfunnyoldthing,MissLingard,quiteinvaluable.ShelookedupthingsforhimintheBritishMuseum—allthatsortofthing.SheworkedwithLordMulcasteronhisbook,youknow.Andshewastactful—Imean,shedidn’tlookupthewrongthings.Afterall,thereareancestorsonedoesn’twantrakedup.Gervasewasverysensitive.Shehelpedme,too.ShegotalotofinformationformeaboutHatshepsut.IamareincarnationofHatshepsut,youknow.”
LadyChevenix-Goremadethisannouncementinacalmvoice.
“Beforethat,”shewenton,“IwasaPriestessinAtlantis.”
MajorRiddleshiftedalittleinhischair.
“Er—er—veryinteresting,”hesaid.“Well,really,LadyChevenix-Gore,Ithinkthatwillbeall.Verykindofyou.”
LadyChevenix-Gorerose,claspingherorientalrobesabouther.
“Goodnight,”shesaid.Andthen,hereyesshiftingtoapointbehindMajorRiddle.“Goodnight,Gervasedear.Iwishyoucouldcome,butIknowyouhavetostayhere.”Sheaddedinanexplanatoryfashion,“Youhavetostayintheplacewhereyou’vepassedoverforatleasttwenty-fourhours.It’ssometimebeforeyoucanmoveaboutfreelyandcommunicate.”
Shetrailedoutoftheroom.
MajorRiddlewipedhisbrow.
“Phew,”hemurmured.“She’sagreatdealmadderthanIeverthought.Doesshereallybelieveallthatnonsense?”
Poirotshookhisheadthoughtfully.
“Itispossiblethatshefindsithelpful,”hesaid.“Sheneeds,atthismoment,tocreateforherselfaworldofillusionsothatshecanescapethestarkrealityofherhusband’sdeath.”
“Sheseemsalmostcertifiabletome,”saidMajorRiddle.“Alongfarragoofnonsensewithoutonewordofsenseinit.”
“No,no,myfriend.Theinterestingthingis,asMr.HugoTrentcasuallyremarkedtome,thatamidstallthevapouringthereisanoccasionalshrewdthrust.SheshoweditbyherremarkaboutMissLingard’stactinnotstressingundesirableancestors.Believeme,LadyChevenix-Goreisnofool.”
Hegotupandpacedupanddowntheroom.
“TherearethingsinthisaffairthatIdonotlike.No,Idonotlikethematall.”
Riddlelookedathimcuriously.
“Youmeanthemotiveforhissuicide?”
“Suicide—suicide!Itisallwrong,Itellyou.Itiswrongpsychologically.HowdidChevenix-Gorethinkofhimself?AsaColossus,asanimmenselyimportantperson,asthecentreoftheuniverse!Doessuchamandestroyhimself?Surelynot.Heisfarmorelikelytodestroysomeoneelse—somemiserablecrawlingantofahumanbeingwhohaddaredtocausehimannoyance…Suchanacthemightregardasnecessary—assanctified!Butself-destruction?ThedestructionofsuchaSelf?”
“It’sallverywell,Poirot.Buttheevidenceisclearenough.Doorlocked,keyinhisownpocket.Windowclosedandfastened.Iknowthesethingshappeninbooks—butI’venevercomeacrosstheminreallife.Anythingelse?”
“Butyes,thereissomethingelse.”Poirotsatdowninthechair.“HereIam.IamChevenix-Gore.Iamsittingatmydesk.Iamdeterminedtokillmyself—because,letussay,Ihavemadeadiscoveryconcerningsometerrificdishonourtothefamilyname.Itisnotveryconvincing,that,butitmustsuffice.
“Ehbien,whatdoIdo?IscrawlonapieceofpaperthewordSORRY.Yes,thatisquitepossible.ThenIopenadrawerofthedesk,takeoutthepistolwhichIkeepthere,loadit,ifitisnotloaded,andthen—doIproceedtoshootmyself?No,Ifirstturnmychairround—so,andIleanoveralittletotheright—so—andthenIputthepistoltomytempleandfire!”
Poirotsprangupfromhischair,andwheelinground,demanded:
“Iaskyou,doesthatmakesense?Whyturnthechairround?If,forinstance,therehadbeenapictureonthewallthere,then,yes,theremightbeanexplanation.Someportraitwhichadyingmanmightwishtobethelastthingonearthhiseyeswouldsee,butawindowcurtain—ahnon,thatdoesnotmakesense.”
“Hemighthavewishedtolookoutofthewindow.Lastviewoutovertheestate.”
“Mydearfriend,youdonotsuggestthatwithanyconviction.Infact,youknowitisnonsense.Ateightminutespasteightitwasdark,andinanycasethecurtainsaredrawn.No,theremustbesomeotherexplanation….”
“There’sonlyoneasfarasIcansee.GervaseChevenix-Gorewasmad.”
Poirotshookhisheadinadissatisfiedmanner.
MajorRiddlerose.
“Come,”hesaid.“Letusgoandinterviewtherestoftheparty.Wemaygetatsomethingthatway.”
Six
AfterthedifficultiesofgettingadirectstatementfromLadyChevenix-Gore,MajorRiddlefoundconsiderablereliefindealingwithashrewdlawyerlikeForbes.
Mr.Forbeswasextremelyguardedandcautiousinhisstatements,buthisreplieswerealldirectlytothepoint.
HeadmittedthatSirGervase’ssuicidehadbeenagreatshocktohim.HeshouldneverhaveconsideredSirGervasethekindofmanwhowouldtakehisownlife.Heknewnothingofanycauseforsuchanact.
“SirGervasewasnotonlymyclient,butwasaveryoldfriend.Ihaveknownhimsinceboyhood.Ishouldsaythathehadalwaysenjoyedlife.”
“Inthecircumstances,Mr.Forbes,Imustaskyoutospeakquitecandidly.YoudidnotknowofanysecretanxietyorsorrowinSirGervase’slife?”
“No.Hehadminorworries,likemostmen,buttherewasnothingofaseriousnature.”
“Noillness?Notroublebetweenhimandhiswife?”
“No.SirGervaseandLadyChevenix-Goreweredevotedtoeachother.”
MajorRiddlesaidcautiously:
“LadyChevenix-Goreappearstoholdsomewhatcuriousviews.”
Mr.Forbessmiled—anindulgent,manlysmile.
“Ladies,”hesaid,“mustbeallowedtheirfancies.”
Thechiefconstablewenton:
“YoumanagedallSirGervase’slegalaffairs?”
“Yes,myfirm,Forbes,OgilvieandSpence,haveactedfortheChevenix-Gorefamilyforwelloverahundredyears.”
“Werethereany—scandalsintheChevenix-Gorefamily?”
Mr.Forbes’seyebrowsrose.
“Really,Ifailtounderstandyou?”
“M.Poirot,willyoushowMr.Forbestheletteryoushowedme?”
InsilencePoirotroseandhandedthelettertoMr.Forbeswithalittlebow.
Mr.Forbesreaditandhiseyebrowsrosestillmore.
“Amostremarkableletter,”hesaid.“Iappreciateyourquestionnow.No,sofarasmyknowledgewent,therewasnothingtojustifythewritingofsuchaletter.”
“SirGervasesaidnothingofthismattertoyou?”
“Nothingatall.ImustsayIfinditverycuriousthatheshouldnothavedoneso.”
“Hewasaccustomedtoconfideinyou?”
“Ithinkhereliedonmyjudgment.”
“Andyouhavenoideaastowhatthisletterrefers?”
“Ishouldnotliketomakeanyrashspeculations.”
MajorRiddleappreciatedthesubtletyofthisreply.
“Now,Mr.Forbes,perhapsyoucantellushowSirGervasehaslefthisproperty.”
“Certainly.Iseenoobjectiontosuchacourse.Tohiswife,SirGervaseleftanannualincomeofsixthousandpoundschargeableontheestate,andthechoiceoftheDowerHouseorthetownhouseinLowndesSquare,whicheversheshouldprefer.Therewere,ofcourse,severallegaciesandbequests,butnothingofanoutstandingnature.Theresidueofhispropertywaslefttohisadopteddaughter,Ruth,onconditionthat,ifshemarried,herhusbandshouldtakethenameofChevenix-Gore.”
“Wasnothinglefttohisnephew,Mr.HugoTrent?”
“Yes.Alegacyoffivethousandpounds.”
“AndItakeitthatSirGervasewasarichman?”
“Hewasextremelywealthy.Hehadavastprivatefortuneapartfromtheestate.Ofcourse,hewasnotquitesowell-offasinthepast.Practicallyallinvestedincomeshavefeltthestrain.Also,SirGervasehaddroppedagooddealofmoneyoveracertaincompany—theParagonSyntheticRubberSubstituteinwhichColonelBurypersuadedhimtoinvestagooddealofmoney.”
“Notverywiseadvice?”
Mr.Forbessighed.
“Retiredsoldiersaretheworstsuffererswhentheyengageinfinancialoperations.Ihavefoundthattheircredulityfarexceedsthatofwidows—andthatissayingagooddeal.”
“ButtheseunfortunateinvestmentsdidnotseriouslyaffectSirGervase’sincome?”
“Oh,no,notseriously.Hewasstillanextremelyrichman.”
“Whenwasthiswillmade?”
“Twoyearsago.”
Poirotmurmured:
“Thisarrangement,wasitnotpossiblyalittleunfairtoMr.HugoTrent,SirGervase’snephew?Heis,afterall,SirGervase’snearestbloodrelation.”
Mr.Forbesshruggedhisshoulders.
“Onehastotakeacertainamountoffamilyhistoryintoaccount.”
“Suchas—?”
Mr.Forbesseemedslightlyunwillingtoproceed.
MajorRiddlesaid:
“Youmustn’tthinkwe’reundulyconcernedwithrakingupoldscandalsoranythingofthatsort.ButthisletterofSirGervase’stoM.Poirothasgottobeexplained.”
“ThereiscertainlynothingscandalousintheexplanationofSirGervase’sattitudetohisnephew,”saidMr.Forbesquickly.“ItwassimplythatSirGervasealwaystookhispositionasheadofthefamilyveryseriously.Hehadayoungerbrotherandsister.Thebrother,AnthonyChevenix-Gore,waskilledinthewar.Thesister,Pamela,married,andSirGervasedisapprovedofthemarriage.Thatistosay,heconsideredthatsheoughttoobtainhisconsentandapprovalbeforemarrying.HethoughtthatCaptainTrent’sfamilywasnotofsufficientprominencetobealliedwithaChevenix-Gore.Hissisterwasmerelyamusedbyhisattitude.Asaresult,SirGervasehasalwaysbeeninclinedtodislikehisnephew.Ithinkthatdislikemayhaveinfluencedhimindecidingtoadoptachild.”
“Therewasnohopeofhishavingchildrenofhisown?”
“No.Therewasastillbornchildaboutayearafterhismarriage.ThedoctorstoldLadyChevenix-Gorethatshewouldneverbeabletohaveanotherchild.AbouttwoyearslaterheadoptedRuth.”
“AndwhowasMademoiselleRuth?Howdidtheycometosettleuponher?”
“Shewas,Ibelieve,thechildofadistantconnection.”
“ThatIhadguessed,”saidPoirot.Helookedupatthewallwhichwashungwithfamilyportraits.“Onecanseethatshewasofthesameblood—thenose,thelineofthechin.Itrepeatsitselfonthesewallsmanytimes.”
“Sheinheritsthetempertoo,”saidMr.Forbesdryly.
“SoIshouldimagine.Howdidsheandheradoptedfathergeton?”
“Muchasyoumightimagine.Therewasafierceclashofwillsmorethanonce.ButinspiteofthesequarrelsIbelievetherewasalsoanunderlyingharmony.”
“Nevertheless,shecausedhimagooddealofanxiety?”
“Incessantanxiety.ButIcanassureyounottothepointofcausinghimtotakehisownlife.”
“Ah,that,no,”agreedPoirot.“Onedoesnotblowone’sbrainsoutbecauseonehasaheadstrongdaughter!Andsomademoiselleinherits!SirGervase,heneverthoughtofalteringhiswill?”
“Ahem!”Mr.Forbescoughedtohidealittlediscomposure.“Asamatteroffact,ItookinstructionsfromSirGervaseonmyarrivalhere(twodaysago,thatistosay)astothedraftingofanewwill.”
“What’sthis?”MajorRiddlehitchedhischairalittlecloser.“Youdidn’ttellusthis.”
Mr.Forbessaidquickly:
“YoumerelyaskedmewhatthetermsofSirGervase’swillwere.Igaveyoutheinformationforwhichyouasked.Thenewwillwasnotevenproperlydrawnup—muchlesssigned.”
“Whatwereitsprovisions?TheymaybesomeguidetoSirGervase’sstateofmind.”
“Inthemain,theywerethesameasbefore,butMissChevenix-GorewasonlytoinheritonconditionthatshemarriedMr.HugoTrent.”
“Aha,”saidPoirot.“Butthereisaverydecideddifferencethere.”
“Ididnotapproveoftheclause,”saidMr.Forbes.“AndIfeltboundtopointoutthatitwasquitepossibleitmightbecontestedsuccessfully.TheCourtdoesnotlookuponsuchconditionalbequestswithapproval.SirGervase,however,wasquitedecided.”
“AndifMissChevenix-Gore(or,incidentally,Mr.Trent)refusedtocomply?”
“IfMr.TrentwasnotwillingtomarryMissChevenix-Gore,thenthemoneywenttoherunconditionally.Butifhewaswillingandsherefused,thenthemoneywenttohiminstead.”
“Oddbusiness,”saidMajorRiddle.
Poirotleanedforward.Hetappedthelawyerontheknee.
“Butwhatisbehindit?WhatwasinthemindofSirGervasewhenhemadethatstipulation?Theremusthavebeensomethingverydefinite…Theremust,Ithink,havebeentheimageofanotherman…amanofwhomhedisapproved.Ithink,Mr.Forbes,thatyoumustknowwhothatmanwas?”
“Really,M.Poirot,Ihavenoinformation.”
“Butyoucouldmakeaguess.”
“Ineverguess,”saidMr.Forbes,andhistonewasscandalized.
Removinghispince-nez,hewipedthemwithasilkhandkerchiefandinquired:
“Isthereanythingelsethatyoudesiretoknow?”
“Atthemoment,no,”saidPoirot.“Not,thatis,asfarasIamconcerned.”
Mr.Forbeslookedasthough,inhisopinion,thatwasnotveryfar,andbenthisattentiononthechiefconstable.
“Thankyou,Mr.Forbes.Ithinkthat’sall.Ishouldlike,ifImay,tospeaktoMissChevenix-Gore.”
“Certainly.IthinksheisupstairswithLadyChevenix-Gore.”
“Oh,well,perhapsI’llhaveawordwith—what’shisname?—Burrows,first,andthefamilyhistorywoman.”
“They’rebothinthelibrary.Iwilltellthem.”
Seven
“Hardwork,that,”saidMajorRiddle,asthelawyerlefttheroom.“Extractinginformationfromtheseold-fashionedlegalwallahstakesabitofdoing.Thewholebusinessseemstometocentreaboutthegirl.”
“Itwouldseemso—yes.”
“Ah,herecomesBurrows.”
GodfreyBurrowscameinwithapleasanteagernesstobeofuse.Hissmilewasdiscreetlytemperedwithgloomandshowedonlyafractiontoomuchteeth.Itseemedmoremechanicalthanspontaneous.
“Now,Mr.Burrows,wewanttoaskyouafewquestions.”
“Certainly,MajorRiddle.Anythingyoulike.”
“Well,firstandforemost,toputitquitesimply,haveyouanyideasofyourownaboutSirGervase’ssuicide?”
“Absolutelynone.Itwasthegreatestshocktome.”
“Youheardtheshot?”
“No;Imusthavebeeninthelibraryatthetime,asfarasIcanmakeout.IcamedownratherearlyandwenttothelibrarytolookupareferenceIwanted.Thelibrary’srighttheothersideofthehousefromthestudy,soIshouldn’thearanything.”
“Wasanyonewithyouinthelibrary?”askedPoirot.
“Nooneatall.”
“You’venoideawheretheothermembersofthehouseholdwereatthattime?”
“Mostlyupstairsdressing,Ishouldimagine.”
“Whendidyoucometothedrawingroom?”
“JustbeforeM.Poirotarrived.Everybodywastherethen—exceptSirGervase,ofcourse.”
“Diditstrikeyouasstrangethathewasn’tthere?”
“Yes,itdid,asamatteroffact.Asarulehewasalwaysinthedrawingroombeforethefirstgongsounded.”
“HaveyounoticedanydifferenceinSirGervase’smannerlately?Hashebeenworried?Oranxious?Depressed?”
GodfreyBurrowsconsidered.
“No—Idon’tthinkso.Alittle—well,preoccupied,perhaps.”
“Buthedidnotappeartobeworriedaboutanyonedefinitematter?”
“Oh,no.”
“No—financialworriesofanykind?”
“Hewasratherperturbedabouttheaffairsofoneparticularcompany—theParagonSyntheticRubberCompanytobeexact.”
“Whatdidheactuallysayaboutit?”
AgainGodfreyBurrows’mechanicalsmileflashedout,andagainitseemedslightlyunreal.
“Well—asamatteroffact—whathesaidwas,‘OldBury’seitherafooloraknave.Afool,Isuppose.ImustgoeasywithhimforVanda’ssake.’”
“Andwhydidhesaythat—forVanda’ssake?”inquiredPoirot.
“Well,yousee,LadyChevenix-GorewasveryfondofColonelBury,andheworshippedher.Followedheraboutlikeadog.”
“SirGervasewasnot—jealousatall?”
“Jealous?”Burrowsstaredandthenlaughed.“SirGervasejealous?Hewouldn’tknowhowtosetaboutit.Why,itwouldneverhaveenteredhisheadthatanyonecouldeverpreferanothermantohim.Suchathingcouldn’tbe,youunderstand.”
Poirotsaidgently:
“Youdidnot,Ithink,likeSirGervaseChevenix-Goreverymuch?”
Burrowsflushed.
“Oh,yes,Idid.Atleast—well,allthatsortofthingstrikesoneasratherridiculousnowadays.”
“Allwhatsortofthing?”askedPoirot.
“Well,thefeudalmotif,ifyoulike.Thisworshipofancestryandpersonalarrogance.SirGervasewasaveryablemaninmanyways,andhadledaninterestinglife,buthewouldhavebeenmoreinterestingifhehadn’tbeensoentirelywrappedupinhimselfandhisownegoism.”
“Didhisdaughteragreewithyouthere?”
Burrowsflushedagain—thistimeadeeppurple.
Hesaid:
“IshouldimagineMissChevenix-Goreisquiteoneofthemoderns!Naturally,Ishouldn’tdiscussherfatherwithher.”
“Butthemodernsdodiscusstheirfathersagooddeal!”saidPoirot.“Itisentirelyinthemodernspirittocriticizeyourparents!”
Burrowsshruggedhisshoulders.
MajorRiddleasked:
“Andtherewasnothingelse—nootherfinancialanxiety?SirGervaseneverspokeofhavingbeenvictimized?”
“Victimized?”Burrowssoundedveryastonished.“Oh,no.”
“Andyouyourselfwereonquitegoodtermswithhim?”
“CertainlyIwas.Whynot?”
“Iamaskingyou,Mr.Burrows.”
Theyoungmanlookedsulky.
“Wewereonthebestofterms.”
“DidyouknowthatSirGervasehadwrittentoM.Poirotaskinghimtocomedownhere?”
“No.”
“DidSirGervaseusuallywritehisownletters?”
“No,henearlyalwaysdictatedthemtome.”
“Buthedidnotdosointhiscase?”
“No.”
“Whywasthat,doyouthink?”
“Ican’timagine.”
“Youcansuggestnoreasonwhyheshouldhavewrittenthisparticularletterhimself?”
“No,Ican’t.”
“Ah!”saidMajorRiddle,addingsmoothly,“Rathercurious.WhendidyoulastseeSirGervase?”
“JustbeforeIwenttodressfordinner.Itookhimsomeletterstosign.”
“Whatwashismannerthen?”
“Quitenormal.InfactIshouldsayhewasfeelingratherpleasedwithhimselfaboutsomething.”
Poirotstirredalittleinhischair.
“Ah?”hesaid.“Sothatwasyourimpression,wasit?Thathewaspleasedaboutsomething.Andyet,notsoverylongafterwards,heshootshimself.Itisodd,that!”
GodfreyBurrowsshruggedhisshoulders.
“I’monlytellingyoumyimpressions.”
“Yes,yes,theyareveryvaluable.Afterall,youareprobablyoneofthelastpeoplewhosawSirGervasealive.”
“Snellwasthelastpersontoseehim.”
“Toseehim,yes,butnottospeaktohim.”
Burrowsdidnotreply.
MajorRiddlesaid:
“Whattimewasitwhenyouwentuptodressfordinner?”
“Aboutfiveminutespastseven.”
“WhatdidSirGervasedo?”
“Ilefthiminthestudy.”
“Howlongdidheusuallytaketochange?”
“Heusuallygavehimselfafullthreequartersofanhour.”
“Then,ifdinnerwasataquarterpasteight,hewouldprobablyhavegoneupathalfpastsevenatthelatest?”
“Verylikely.”
“Youyourselfwenttochangeearly?”
“Yes,IthoughtIwouldchangeandthengotothelibraryandlookupthereferencesIwanted.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.MajorRiddlesaid:
“Well,Ithinkthat’sallforthemoment.WillyousendMissWhat’s-her-namealong?”
LittleMissLingardtrippedinalmostimmediately.Shewaswearingseveralchainswhichtinkledalittleasshesatdownandlookedinquiringlyfromonetotheotherofthetwomen.
“Thisisallvery—er—sad,MissLingard,”beganMajorRiddle.
“Verysadindeed,”saidMissLingarddecorously.
“Youcametothishouse—when?”
“Abouttwomonthsago.SirGervasewrotetoafriendofhisintheMuseum—ColonelFotheringayitwas—andColonelFotheringaryrecommendedme.Ihavedoneagooddealofhistoricalresearchwork.”
“DidyoufindSirGervasedifficulttoworkfor?”
“Oh,notreally.Onehadtohumourhimalittle,ofcourse.ButthenIalwaysfindonehastodothatwithmen.”
WithanuneasyfeelingthatMissLingardwasprobablyhumouringhimatthismoment,MajorRiddlewenton:
“YourworkherewastohelpSirGervasewiththebookhewaswriting?”
“Yes.”
“Whatdiditinvolve?”
Foramoment,MissLingardlookedquitehuman.Hereyestwinkledasshereplied:
“Well,actually,youknow,itinvolvedwritingthebook!Ilookedupalltheinformationandmadenotes,andarrangedthematerial.Andthen,later,IrevisedwhatSirGervasehadwritten.”
“Youmusthavehadtoexerciseagooddealoftact,mademoiselle,”saidPoirot.
“Tactandfirmness.Oneneedsthemboth,”saidMissLingard.
“SirGervasedidnotresentyour—er—firmness?”
“Ohnotatall.OfcourseIputittohimthathemustn’tbebotheredwithallthepettydetail.”
“Oh,yes,Isee.”
“Itwasquitesimple,really,”saidMissLingard.“SirGervasewasperfectlyeasytomanageifonetookhimtherightway.”
“Now,MissLingard,Iwonderifyouknowanythingthatcanthrowlightonthistragedy?”
MissLingardshookherhead.
“I’mafraidIdon’t.Yousee,naturallyhewouldn’tconfideinmeatall.Iwaspracticallyastranger.InanycaseIthinkhewasfartooproudtospeaktoanyoneoffamilytroubles.”
“Butyouthinkitwasfamilytroublesthatcausedhimtotakehislife?”
MissLingardlookedrathersurprised.
“Butofcourse!Isthereanyothersuggestion?”
“Youfeelsurethattherewerefamilytroublesworryinghim?”
“Iknowthathewasingreatdistressofmind.”
“Oh,youknowthat?”
“Why,ofcourse.”
“Tellme,mademoiselle,didhespeaktoyouofthematter?”
“Notexplicitly.”
“Whatdidhesay?”
“Letmesee.Ifoundthathedidn’tseemtobetakinginwhatIwassaying—”
“Onemoment.Pardon.Whenwasthis?”
“Thisafternoon.Weusuallyworkedfromthreetofive.”
“Praygoon.”
“AsIsay,SirGervaseseemedtobefindingithardtoconcentrate—infact,hesaidasmuch,addingthathehadseveralgravematterspreyingonhismind.Andhesaid—letmesee—somethinglikethis—(ofcourse,Ican’tbesureoftheexactwords):‘It’saterriblething,MissLingard,whenafamilyhasbeenoneoftheproudestintheland,thatdishonourshouldbebroughtonit.’”
“Andwhatdidyousaytothat?”
“Oh,justsomethingsoothing.IthinkIsaidthateverygenerationhaditsweaklings—thatthatwasoneofthepenaltiesofgreatness—butthattheirfailingswereseldomrememberedbyposterity.”
“Anddidthathavethesoothingeffectyouhoped?”
“Moreorless.WegotbacktoSirRogerChevenix-Gore.Ihadfoundamostinterestingmentionofhiminacontemporarymanuscript.ButSirGervase’sattentionwanderedagain.Intheendhesaidhewouldnotdoanymoreworkthatafternoon.Hesaidhehadhadashock.”
“Ashock?”
“Thatiswhathesaid.Ofcourse,Ididn’taskanyquestions.Ijustsaid,‘Iamsorrytohearit,SirGervase.’AndthenheaskedmetotellSnellthatM.Poirotwouldbearrivingandtoputoffdinneruntileight-fifteen,andsendthecartomeettheseven-fiftytrain.”
“Didheusuallyaskyoutomakethesearrangements?”
“Well—no—thatwasreallyMr.Burrows’sbusiness.Ididnothingbutmyownliterarywork.Iwasn’tasecretaryinanysenseoftheword.”
Poirotasked:
“DoyouthinkSirGervasehadadefinitereasonforaskingyoutomakethesearrangements,insteadofaskingMr.Burrowstodoso?”
MissLingardconsidered.
“Well,hemayhavehad…Ididnotthinkofitatthetime.Ithoughtitwasjustamatterofconvenience.Still,it’struenowIcometothinkofit,thathedidaskmenottotellanyonethatM.Poirotwascoming.Itwastobeasurprise,hesaid.”
“Ah!hesaidthat,didhe?Verycurious,veryinteresting.Anddidyoutellanyone?”
“Certainlynot,M.Poirot.ItoldSnellaboutdinnerandtosendthechauffeurtomeettheseven-fiftyasagentlemanwasarrivingbyit.”
“DidSirGervasesayanythingelsethatmayhavehadabearingonthesituation?”
MissLingardthought.
“No—Idon’tthinkso—hewasverymuchstrungup—IdorememberthatjustasIwasleavingtheroom,hesaid,‘Notthatit’sanygoodhiscomingnow.It’stoolate.’”
“Andyouhavenoideaatallwhathemeantbythat?”
“N—no.”
Justthefaintestsuspicionofindecisionaboutthesimplenegative.Poirotrepeatedwithafrown:
“‘Toolate.’Thatiswhathesaid,isit?‘Toolate.’”
MajorRiddlesaid:
“Youcangiveusnoidea,MissLingard,astothenatureofthecircumstancethatsodistressedSirGervase?”
MissLingardsaidslowly:
“IhaveanideathatitwasinsomewayconnectedwithMr.HugoTrent.”
“WithHugoTrent?Whydoyouthinkthat?”
“Well,itwasnothingdefinite,butyesterdayafternoonwewerejusttouchingonSirHugodeChevenix(who,I’mafraid,didn’tbeartoogoodacharacterintheWarsoftheRoses),andSirGervasesaid,‘MysisterwouldchoosethefamilynameofHugoforherson!It’salwaysbeenanunsatisfactorynameinourfamily.ShemighthaveknownnoHugowouldturnoutwell.’”
“Whatyoutellusthereissuggestive,”saidPoirot.“Yes,itsuggestsanewideatome.”
“SirGervasesaidnothingmoredefinitethanthat?”askedMajorRiddle.
MissLingardshookherhead.
“No,andofcourseitwouldn’thavedoneformetosayanything.SirGervasewasreallyjusttalkingtohimself.Hewasn’treallyspeakingtome.”
“Quiteso.”
Poirotsaid:
“Mademoiselle,you,astranger,havebeenherefortwomonths.Itwouldbe,Ithink,veryvaluableifyouweretotellusquitefranklyyourimpressionsofthefamilyandhousehold.”
MissLingardtookoffherpince-nezandblinkedreflectively.
“Well,atfirst,quitefrankly,IfeltasthoughI’dwalkedstraightintoamadhouse!WhatwithLadyChevenix-Gorecontinuallyseeingthingsthatweren’tthere,andSirGervasebehavinglike—likeaking—anddramatizinghimselfinthemostextraordinaryway—well,IreallydidthinktheywerethequeerestpeopleIhadevercomeacross.Ofcourse,MissChevenix-Gorewasperfectlynormal,andIsoonfoundthatLadyChevenix-Gorewasreallyanextremelykind,nicewoman.Nobodycouldbekinderandnicertomethanshehasbeen.SirGervase—well,Ireallythinkhewasmad.Hisegomania—isn’tthatwhatyoucallit?—wasgettingworseandworseeveryday.”
“Andtheothers?”
“Mr.BurrowshadratheradifficulttimewithSirGervase,Ishouldimagine.Ithinkhewasgladthatourworkonthebookgavehimalittlemorebreathingspace.ColonelBurywasalwayscharming.HewasdevotedtoLadyChevenix-GoreandhemanagedSirGervasequitewell.Mr.Trent,Mr.ForbesandMissCardwellhaveonlybeenhereafewdays,soofcourseIdon’tknowmuchaboutthem.”
“Thankyou,mademoiselle.AndwhataboutCaptainLake,theagent?”
“Oh,he’sverynice.Everybodylikedhim.”
“IncludingSirGervase?”
“Oh,yes.I’veheardhimsayLakewasmuchthebestagenthe’dhad.Ofcourse,CaptainLakehadhisdifficultieswithSirGervase,too—buthemanagedprettywellonthewhole.Itwasn’teasy.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.Hemurmured,“Therewassomething—something—thatIhadinmindtoaskyou—somelittlething…Whatwasitnow?”
MissLingardturnedapatientfacetowardshim.
Poirotshookhisheadvexedly.
“Tchah!Itisonthetipofmytongue.”
MajorRiddlewaitedaminuteortwo,thenasPoirotcontinuedtofrownperplexedly,hetookuptheinterrogationoncemore.
“WhenwasthelasttimeyousawSirGervase?”
“Atteatime,inthisroom.”
“Whatwashismannerthen?Normal?”
“Asnormalasiteverwas.”
“Wasthereanysenseofstrainamongtheparty?”
“No,Ithinkeverybodyseemedquiteordinary.”
“WheredidSirGervasegoaftertea?”
“HetookMr.Burrowswithhimintothestudy,asusual.”
“Thatwasthelasttimeyousawhim?”
“Yes.IwenttothesmallmorningroomwhereIworked,andtypedachapterofthebookfromthenotesIhadgoneoverwithSirGervase,untilseveno’clock,whenIwentupstairstorestanddressfordinner.”
“Youactuallyheardtheshot,Iunderstand?”
“Yes,Iwasinthisroom.IheardwhatsoundedlikeashotandIwentoutintothehall.Mr.Trentwasthere,andMissCardwell.Mr.TrentaskedSnelliftherewaschampagnefordinner,andmaderatherajokeofit.Itneverenteredourheadstotakethematterseriously,I’mafraid.Wefeltsureitmusthavebeenacarbackfiring.”
Poirotsaid:
“DidyouhearMr.Trentsay,‘There’salwaysmurder?’”
“Ibelievehedidsaysomethinglikethat—joking,ofcourse.”
“Whathappenednext?”
“Weallcameinhere.”
“Canyouremembertheorderinwhichtheotherscamedowntodinner?”
“MissChevenix-Gorewasthefirst,Ithink,andthenMr.Forbes.ThenColonelBuryandLadyChevenix-Goretogether,andMr.Burrowsimmediatelyafterthem.Ithinkthatwastheorder,butIcan’tbequitesurebecausetheymoreorlesscameinalltogether.”
“Gatheredbythesoundofthefirstgong?”
“Yes.Everyonealwayshustledwhentheyheardthatgong.SirGervasewasaterriblesticklerforpunctualityintheevening.”
“Whattimedidhehimselfusuallycomedown?”
“Hewasnearlyalwaysintheroombeforethefirstgongwent.”
“Diditsurpriseyouthathewasnotdownonthisoccasion?”
“Verymuch.”
“Ah,Ihaveit!”criedPoirot.
Astheothertwolookedinquiringlyathimhewenton:
“IhaverememberedwhatIwantedtoask.Thisevening,mademoiselle,asweallwentalongtothestudyonSnell’sreportingittobelocked,youstoopedandpickedsomethingup.”
“Idid?”MissLingardseemedverysurprised.
“Yes,justasweturnedintothestraightpassagetothestudy.Somethingsmallandbright.”
“Howextraordinary—Idon’tremember.Waitaminute—yes,Ido.OnlyIwasn’tthinking.Letmesee—itmustbeinhere.”
Openingherblacksatinbag,shepouredthecontentsonatable.
PoirotandMajorRiddlesurveyedthecollectionwithinterest.Thereweretwohandkerchiefs,apowdercompact,asmallbunchofkeys,aspectaclecaseandoneotherobjectonwhichPoirotpouncedeagerly.
“Abullet,byjove!”saidMajorRiddle.
Thethingwasindeedshapedlikeabullet,butitprovedtobeasmallpencil.
“That’swhatIpickedup,”saidMissLingard.“I’dforgottenallaboutit.”
“Doyouknowwhothisbelongsto,MissLingard?”
“Oh,yes,it’sColonelBury’s.Hehaditmadeoutofabulletthathithim—orrather,didn’thithim,ifyouknowwhatImean—intheSouthAfricanWar.”
“Doyouknowwhenhehaditlast?”
“Well,hehaditthisafternoonwhentheywereplayingbridge,becauseInoticedhimwritingwithitonthescorewhenIcameintotea.”
“Whowasplayingbridge?”
“ColonelBury,LadyChevenix-Gore,Mr.TrentandMissCardwell.”
“Ithink,”saidPoirotgently,“wewillkeepthisandreturnittothecolonelourselves.”
“Oh,pleasedo.Iamsoforgetful,Imightnotremembertoso.”
“Perhaps,mademoiselle,youwouldbesogoodastoaskColonelBurytocomeherenow?”
“Certainly.Iwillgoandfindhimatonce.”
Shehurriedaway.Poirotgotupandbeganwalkingaimlesslyroundtheroom.
“Webegin,”hesaid,“toreconstructtheafternoon.Itisinteresting.AthalfpasttwoSirGervasegoesoveraccountswithCaptainLake.Heisslightlypreoccupied.Atthree,hediscussesthebookheiswritingwithMissLingard.Heisingreatdistressofmind.MissLingardassociatesthatdistressofmindwithHugoTrentonthestrengthofachanceremark.Atteatimehisbehaviourisnormal.Aftertea,GodfreyBurrowstellsushewasingoodspiritsoversomething.Atfiveminutestoeighthecomesdownstairs,goestohisstudy,scrawls‘Sorry’onasheetofpaper,andshootshimself!”
Riddlesaidslowly:
“Iseewhatyoumean.Itisn’tconsistent.”
“StrangealterationofmoodsinSirGervaseChevenix-Gore!Heispreoccupied—heisseriouslyupset—heisnormal—heisinhighspirits!Thereissomethingverycurioushere!Andthenthatphraseheused,‘Toolate.’ThatIshouldgethere‘Toolate.’Well,itistruethat.Ididgetheretoolate—toseehimalive.”
“Isee.Youreallythink—?”
“IshallneverknownowwhySirGervasesentforme!Thatiscertain!”
Poirotwasstillwanderingroundtheroom.Hestraightenedoneortwoobjectsonthemantelpiece;heexaminedacardtablethatstoodagainstawall,heopenedthedrawerofitandtookoutthebridge-markers.Thenhewanderedovertothewritingtableandpeeredintothewastepaperbasket.Therewasnothinginitbutapaperbag.Poirottookitout,smeltit,murmured“Oranges”andflatteneditout,readingthenameonit.“CarpenterandSons,Fruiterers,HamboroughSt.Mary.”HewasjustfoldingitneatlyintosquareswhenColonelBuryenteredtheroom.
Eight
TheColoneldroppedintoachair,shookhishead,sighedandsaid:
“Terriblebusiness,this,Riddle.LadyChevenix-Goreisbeingwonderful—wonderful.Grandwoman!Fullofcourage!”
Comingsoftlybacktohischair,Poirotsaid:
“Youhaveknownherverymanyyears,Ithink?”
“Yes,indeed,Iwasathercomingoutdance.Worerosebudsinherhair,Iremember.Andawhite,fluffydress…Wasn’tanyonetotouchherintheroom!”
Hisvoicewasfullofenthusiasm.Poirotheldoutthepenciltohim.
“Thisisyours,Ithink?”
“Eh?What?Oh,thankyou,haditthisafternoonwhenwewereplayingbridge.Amazing,youknow,Iheldahundredhonoursinspadesthreetimesrunning.Neverdonesuchathingbefore.”
“Youwereplayingbridgebeforetea,Iunderstand?”saidPoirot.“WhatwasSirGervase’sframeofmindwhenhecameintotea?”
“Usual—quiteusual.Neverdreamedhewasthinkingofmakingawaywithhimself.Perhapshewasalittlemoreexcitablethanusual,nowIcometothinkofit.”
“Whenwasthelasttimeyousawhim?”
“Why,then!Teatime.Neversawthepoorchapaliveagain.”
“Youdidn’tgotothestudyatallaftertea?”
“No,neversawhimagain.”
“Whattimedidyoucomedowntodinner?”
“Afterthefirstgongwent.”
“YouandLadyChevenix-Gorecamedowntogether?”
“No,we—er—metinthehall.Ithinkshe’dbeenintothediningroomtoseetotheflowers—somethinglikethat.”
MajorRiddlesaid:
“Ihopeyouwon’tmind,ColonelBury,ifIaskyouasomewhatpersonalquestion.WasthereanytroublebetweenyouandSirGervaseoverthequestionoftheParagonSyntheticRubberCompany?”
ColonelBury’sfacebecamesuddenlypurple.Hesplutteredalittle.
“Notatall.Notatall.OldGervasewasanunreasonablesortoffellow.You’vegottorememberthat.Healwaysexpectedeverythinghetouchedtoturnouttrumps!Didn’tseemtorealizethatthewholeworldwasgoingthroughaperiodofcrisis.Allstocksandsharesboundtobeaffected.”
“Sotherewasacertainamountoftroublebetweenyou?”
“Notrouble.JustdamnedunreasonableofGervase!”
“Heblamedyouforcertainlosseshehadsustained?”
“Gervasewasn’tnormal!Vandaknewthat.Butshecouldalwayshandlehim.Iwascontenttoleaveitallinherhands.”
PoirotcoughedandMajorRiddle,afterglancingathim,changedthesubject.
“Youareaveryoldfriendofthefamily,Iknow,ColonelBury.HadyouanyknowledgeastohowSirGervasehadlefthismoney?”
“Well,IshouldimaginethebulkofitwouldgotoRuth.That’swhatIgatheredfromwhatGervaseletfall.”
“Youdon’tthinkthatwasatallunfaironHugoTrent?”
“Gervasedidn’tlikeHugo.Nevercouldstickhim.”
“Buthehadagreatsenseoffamily.MissChevenix-Gorewas,afterall,onlyhisadopteddaughter.”
ColonelBuryhesitated,thenafterhummingandhawingamoment,hesaid:
“Lookhere,IthinkI’dbettertellyousomething.Strictconfidence,andallthat.”
“Ofcourse—ofcourse.”
“Ruth’sillegitimate,butshe’saChevenix-Goreallright.DaughterofGervase’sbrother,Anthony,whowaskilledinthewar.Seemedhe’dhadanaffairwithatypist.Whenhewaskilled,thegirlwrotetoVanda.Vandawenttoseeher—girlwasexpectingababy.VandatookitupwithGervase,she’djustbeentoldthatsheherselfcouldneverhaveanotherchild.Resultwastheytookoverthechildwhenitwasborn,adopteditlegally.Themotherrenouncedallrightsinit.They’vebroughtRuthupastheirowndaughterandtoallintentsandpurposes,sheistheirowndaughter,andyou’veonlygottolookathertorealiseshe’saChevenix-Goreallright!”
“Aha,”saidPoirot.“Isee.ThatmakesSirGervase’sattitudeverymuchclearer.ButifhedidnotlikeMr.HugoTrent,whywashesoanxioustoarrangeamarriagebetweenhimandMademoiselleRuth?”
“Toregularizethefamilyposition.Itpleasedhissenseoffitness.”
“Eventhoughhedidnotlikeortrusttheyoungman?”
ColonelBurysnorted.
“Youdon’tunderstandoldGervase.Hecouldn’tregardpeopleashumanbeings.Hearrangedalliancesasthoughthepartieswereroyalpersonages!HeconsidereditfittingthatRuthandHugoshouldmarry,HugotakingthenameofChevenix-Gore.WhatHugoandRuththoughtaboutitdidn’tmatter.”
“AndwasMademoiselleRuthwillingtofallinwiththisarrangement?”
ColonelBurychuckled.
“Notshe!She’satartar!”
“DidyouknowthatshortlybeforehisdeathSirGervasewasdraftinganewwillbywhichMissChevenix-GorewouldinheritonlyonconditionthatsheshouldmarryMr.Trent?”
ColonelBurywhistled.
“ThenhereallyhadgotthewindupaboutherandBurrows—”
Assoonashehadspoken,hebitthewordsoff,butitwastoolate.Poirothadpouncedupontheadmission.
“TherewassomethingbetweenMademoiselleRuthandyoungMonsieurBurrows?”
“Probablynothinginit—nothinginitatall.”
MajorRiddlecoughedandsaid:
“Ithink,ColonelBury,thatyoumusttellusallyouknow.ItmighthaveadirectbearingonSirGervase’sstateofmind.”
“Isupposeitmight,”saidColonelBury,doubtfully.“Well,thetruthofitis,youngBurrowsisnotabad-lookingchap—atleast,womenseemtothinkso.HeandRuthseemtohavegotasthickasthievesjustlately,andGervasedidn’tlikeit—didn’tlikeitatall.Didn’tliketosackBurrowsforfearofprecipitatingmatters.HeknowswhatRuth’slike.Shewon’tbedictatedtoinanyway.SoIsupposehehitonthisscheme.Ruth’snotthesortofgirltosacrificeeverythingforlove.She’sfondofthefleshpotsandshelikesmoney.”
“DoyouyourselfapproveofMr.Burrows?”
ThecoloneldeliveredhimselfoftheopinionthatGodfreyBurrowswasslightlyhairyattheheel,apronouncementwhichbaffledPoirotcompletely,butmadeMajorRiddlesmileintohismoustache.
Afewmorequestionswereaskedandanswered,andthenColonelBurydeparted.
RiddleglancedoveratPoirotwhowassittingabsorbedinthought.
“Whatdoyoumakeofitall,M.Poirot?”
Thelittlemanraisedhishands.
“Iseemtoseeapattern—apurposefuldesign.”
Riddlesaid,“It’sdifficult.”
“Yes,itisdifficult.Butmoreandmoreonephrase,lightlyuttered,strikesmeassignificant.”
“Whatwasthat?”
“ThatlaughingsentencespokenbyHugoTrent:‘There’salwaysmurder…’”
Riddlesaidsharply:
“Yes,Icanseethatyou’vebeenleaningthatwayallalong.”
“Doyounotagree,myfriend,thatthemorewelearn,thelessandlessmotivewefindforsuicide?Butformurder,webegintohaveasurprisingcollectionofmotives!”
“Still,you’vegottorememberthefacts—doorlocked,keyindeadman’spocket.Oh,Iknowtherearewaysandmeans.Bentpins,strings—allsortsofdevices.Itwould,Isuppose,bepossibleButdothosethingsreallywork?That’swhatIverymuchdoubt.”
“Atallevents,letusexaminethepositionfromthepointofviewofmurder,notofsuicide.”
“Oh,allright.Asyouareonthescene,itprobablywouldbemurder!”
ForamomentPoirotsmiled.
“Ihardlylikethatremark.”
Thenhebecamegraveoncemore.
“Yes,letusexaminethecasefromthestandpointofmurder.Theshotisheard,fourpeopleareinthehall,MissLingard,HugoTrent,MissCardwellandSnell.Wherearealltheothers?”
“Burrowswasinthelibrary,accordingtohisownstory.Noonetocheckthatstatement.Theotherswerepresumablyintheirrooms,butwhoistoknowiftheywerereallythere?Everybodyseemstohavecomedownseparately.EvenLadyChevenix-GoreandBuryonlymetinthehall.LadyChevenix-Gorecamefromthediningroom.WheredidBurycomefrom?Isn’titpossiblethathecame,notfromupstairs,butfromthestudy?There’sthatpencil.”
“Yes,thepencilisinteresting.HeshowednoemotionwhenIproducedit,butthatmightbebecausehedidnotknowwhereIfounditandwasunawarehimselfofhavingdroppedit.Letussee,whoelsewasplayingbridgewhenthepencilwasinuse?HugoTrentandMissCardwell.They’reoutofit.MissLingardandthebutlercanvouchfortheiralibis.ThefourthwasLadyChevenix-Gore.”
“Youcan’tseriouslysuspecther.”
“Whynot,myfriend?Itellyou,me,Icansuspecteverybody!Supposingthat,inspiteofherapparentdevotiontoherhusband,itisthefaithfulBuryshereallyloves?”
“H’m,”saidRiddle.“Inawayithasbeenakindofménageàtroisforyears.”
“AndthereissometroubleaboutthiscompanybetweenSirGervaseandColonelBury.”
“It’struethatSirGervasemighthavebeenmeaningtoturnreallynasty.Wedon’tknowtheins-and-outsofit.Itmightfitinwiththatsummonstoyou.SaySirGervasesuspectsthatBuryhasdeliberatelyfleecedhim,buthedoesn’twantpublicitybecauseofasuspicionthathiswifemaybemixedupinit.Yes,that’spossible.Thatgiveseitherofthosetwoapossiblemotive.AnditisabitoddreallythatLadyChevenix-Goreshouldtakeherhusband’sdeathsocalmly.Allthisspiritbusinessmaybeacting!”
“Thenthereistheothercomplication,”saidPoirot.“MissChevenix-GoreandBurrows.ItisverymuchtotheirinterestthatSirGervaseshouldnotsignthenewwill.Asitis,shegetseverythingonconditionthatherhusbandtakesthefamilyname—”
“Yes,andBurrows’saccountofSirGervase’sattitudethiseveningisabitfishy.Highspirits,pleasedaboutsomething!Thatdoesn’tfitwithanythingelsewe’vebeentold.”
“Thereis,too,Mr.Forbes.Mostcorrect,mostsevere,ofanoldandwell-establishedfirm.Butlawyers,eventhemostrespectable,havebeenknowntoembezzletheirclient’smoneywhentheythemselvesareinahole.”
“You’regettingabittoosensational,Ithink,Poirot.”
“YouthinkwhatIsuggestistoolikethepictures?Butlife,MajorRiddle,isoftenamazinglylikethepictures.”
“Ithasbeen,sofar,inWestshire,”saidthechiefconstable.“We’dbetterfinishinterviewingtherestofthem,don’tyouthink?It’sgettinglate.Wehaven’tseenRuthChevenix-Goreyet,andshe’sprobablythemostimportantofthelot.”
“Iagree.ThereisMissCardwell,too.Perhapswemightseeherfirst,sincethatwillnottakelong,andinterviewMissChevenix-Gorelast.
“Quiteagoodidea.”
Nine
ThateveningPoirothadonlygivenSusanCardwellafleetingglance.Heexaminedhernowmoreattentively.Anintelligentface,hethought,notstrictlygood-looking,butpossessinganattractionthatamerelyprettygirlmightenvy.Herhairwasmagnificent,herfaceskilfullymade-up.Hereyes,hethought,werewatchful.
Afterafewpreliminaryquestions,MajorRiddlesaid:
“Idon’tknowhowcloseafriendyouareofthefamily,MissCardwell?”
“Idon’tknowthematall.HugoarrangedthatIshouldbeaskeddownhere.”
“Youare,then,afriendofHugoTrent’s?”
“Yes,that’smyposition.Hugo’sgirlfriend.”SusanCardwellsmiledasshedrawledoutthewords.
“Youhaveknownhimalongtime?”
“Oh,no,justamonthorso.”
Shepausedandthenadded:
“I’mbywayofbeingengagedtohim.”
“Andhebroughtyoudownheretointroduceyoutohispeople?”
“Oh,dearno,nothinglikethat.Wewerekeepingitveryhush-hush.Ijustcamedowntospyouttheland.Hugotoldmetheplacewasjustlikeamadhouse.IthoughtI’dbettercomeandseeformyself.Hugo,poorsweet,isaperfectpet,buthe’sgotabsolutelynobrains.Theposition,yousee,wasrathercritical.NeitherHugonorIhaveanymoney,andoldSirGervase,whowasHugo’smainhope,hadsethisheartonHugomakingamatchofitwithRuth.Hugo’sabitweak,youknow.Hemightagreetothismarriageandcountonbeingabletogetoutofitlater.”
“Thatideadidnotcommenditselftoyou,mademoiselle?”inquiredPoirotgently.
“Definitelynot.Ruthmighthavegoneallpeculiarandrefusedtodivorcehimorsomething.Iputmyfootdown.NotrottingofftoSt.Paul’s,Knightsbridge,untilIcouldbethereditheringwithasheafoflilies.”
“Soyoucamedowntostudythesituationforyourself?”
“Yes.”
“Ehbien!”saidPoirot.
“Well,ofcourse,Hugowasright!Thewholefamilywerebughouse!ExceptRuth,whoseemsperfectlysensible.She’dgotherownboyfriendandwasn’tanykeeneronthemarriageideathanIwas.”
“YourefertoM.Burrows?”
“Burrows?Ofcoursenot.Ruthwouldn’tfallforaboguspersonlikethat.”
“Thenwhowastheobjectofheraffection?”
SusanCardwellpaused,stretchedforacigarette,litit,andremarked:
“You’dbetteraskherthat.Afterall,itisn’tmybusiness.”
MajorRiddleasked:
“WhenwasthelasttimeyousawSirGervase?”
“Attea.”
“Didhismannerstrikeyouaspeculiarinanyway?”
Thegirlshruggedhershoulders.
“Notmorethanusual.”
“Whatdidyoudoaftertea?”
“PlayedbilliardswithHugo.”
“Youdidn’tseeSirGervaseagain?”
“No.”
“Whatabouttheshot?”
“Thatwasratherodd.Yousee,Ithoughtthefirstgonghadgone,soIhurriedupwithmydressing,camedashingoutofmyroom,heard,asIthought,thesecondgongandfairlyraceddownthestairs.I’dbeenoneminutelatefordinnerthefirstnightIwashereandHugotoldmeithadaboutwreckedourchanceswiththeoldman,soIfairlyhareddown.Hugowasjustaheadofmeandthentherewasaqueerkindofpop-bangandHugosaiditwasachampagnecork,butSnellsaid‘No’tothatand,anyway,Ididn’tthinkithadcomefromthediningroom.MissLingardthoughtitcamefromupstairs,butanywayweagreeditwasabackfireandwetroopedintothedrawingroomandforgotaboutit.”
“ItdidnotoccurtoyouforonemomentthatSirGervasemighthaveshothimself?”askedPoirot.
“Iaskyou,shouldIbelikelytothinkofsuchathing?TheOldManseemedtoenjoyhimselfthrowinghisweightabout.Ineverimaginedhe’ddosuchathing.Ican’tthinkwhyhedidit.Isupposejustbecausehewasnuts.”
“Anunfortunateoccurrence.”
“Very—forHugoandme.Igatherhe’sleftHugonothingatall,orpracticallynothing.”
“Whotoldyouthat?”
“HugogotitoutofoldForbes.”
“Well,MissCardwell—”MajorRiddlepausedamoment,“Ithinkthat’sall.DoyouthinkMissChevenix-Goreisfeelingwellenoughtocomedownandtalktous?”
“Oh,Ishouldthinkso.I’lltellher.”
Poirotintervened.
“Alittlemoment,mademoiselle.Haveyouseenthisbefore?”
Heheldoutthebulletpencil.
“Oh,yes,wehaditatbridgethisafternoon.BelongstooldColonelBury,Ithink.”
“Didhetakeitwhentherubberwasover?”
“Ihaven’tthefaintestidea.”
“Thankyou,mademoiselle.Thatisall.”
“Right,I’lltellRuth.”
RuthChevenix-Gorecameintotheroomlikeaqueen.Hercolourwasvivid,herheadheldhigh.Buthereyes,liketheeyesofSusanCardwell,werewatchful.SheworethesamefrockshehadhadonwhenPoirotarrived.Itwasapaleshadeofapricot.Onhershoulderwaspinnedadeep,salmon-pinkrose.Ithadbeenfreshandbloominganhourearlier,nowitdrooped.
“Well?”saidRuth.
“I’mextremelysorrytobotheryou,”beganMajorRiddle.
Sheinterruptedhim.
“Ofcourseyouhavetobotherme.Youhavetobothereveryone.Icansaveyoutime,though.Ihaven’tthefaintestideawhytheOldMankilledhimself.AllIcantellyouisthatitwasn’tabitlikehim.”
“Didyounoticeanythingamissinhismannertoday?Washedepressed,orundulyexcited—wasthereanythingatallabnormal?”
“Idon’tthinkso.Iwasn’tnoticing—”
“Whendidyouseehimlast?”
“Teatime.”
Poirotspoke:
“Youdidnotgotothestudy—later?”
“No.ThelastIsawofhimwasinthisroom.Sittingthere.”
Sheindicatedachair.
“Isee.Doyouknowthispencil,mademoiselle?”
“It’sColonelBury’s.”
“Haveyouseenitlately?”
“Idon’treallyremember.”
“Doyouknowanythingofa—disagreementbetweenSirGervaseandColonelBury?”
“OvertheParagonRubberCompany,youmean?”
“Yes.”
“Ishouldthinkso.TheOldManwasrabidaboutit!”
“Heconsidered,perhaps,thathehadbeenswindled?”
Ruthshruggedhershoulders.
“Hedidn’tunderstandthefirstthingaboutfinance.”
Poirotsaid:
“MayIaskyouaquestion,mademoiselle—asomewhatimpertinentquestion?”
“Certainly,ifyoulike.”
“Itisthis—areyousorrythatyour—fatherisdead?”
Shestaredathim.
“OfcourseI’msorry.Idon’tindulgeinsobstuff.ButIshallmisshim…IwasfondoftheOldMan.That’swhatwecalledhim,HugoandI,always.The‘OldMan’—youknow—somethingoftheprimitive—anthropoid-ape-original-Patriarch-of-the-tribebusiness.Itsoundsdisrespectful,butthere’sreallyalotofaffectionbehindit.Ofcourse,hewasreallythemostcomplete,muddleheadedoldassthateverlived!”
“Youinterestme,mademoiselle.”
“TheOldManhadthebrainsofalouse!Sorrytohavetosayit,butit’strue.Hewasincapableofanykindofheadwork.Mindyou,hewasacharacter.Fantasticallybraveandallthat!CouldgocareeringofftothePole,orfightingduels.Ialwaysthinkthatheblusteredsuchalotbecausehereallyknewthathisbrainsweren’tuptomuch.Anyonecouldhavegotthebetterofhim.”
Poirottooktheletterfromhispocket.
“Readthis,mademoiselle.”
Shereaditthroughandhandeditbacktohim.
“Sothat’swhatbroughtyouhere!”
“Doesitsuggestanythingtoyou,thatletter?”
Sheshookherhead.
“No.It’sprobablyquitetrue.Anyonecouldhaverobbedthepooroldpet.Johnsaysthelastagentbeforehimswindledhimrightandleft.Yousee,theOldManwassograndandsopompousthatheneverreallycondescendedtolookintodetails!Hewasaninvitationtocrooks.”
“Youpaintadifferentpictureofhim,mademoiselle,fromtheacceptedone.”
“Oh,well—heputupaprettygoodcamouflage.Vanda(mymother)backedhimforallshewasworth.HewassohappystalkingroundpretendinghewasGodAlmighty.That’swhy,inaway,I’mgladhe’sdead.It’sthebestthingforhim.”
“Idonotquitefollowyou,mademoiselle.”
Ruthsaidbroodingly:
“Itwasgrowingonhim.Oneofthesedayshewouldhavehadtobelockedup…Peoplewerebeginningtotalkasitwas.”
“Didyouknow,mademoiselle,thathewascontemplatingawillwherebyyoucouldonlyinherithismoneyifyoumarriedMr.Trent?”
Shecried:
“Howabsurd!Anyway,I’msurethatcouldbesetasidebylaw…I’msureyoucan’tdictatetopeopleaboutwhomtheyshallmarry.”
“Ifhehadactuallysignedsuchawill,wouldyouhavecompliedwithitsprovisions,mademoiselle?”
Shestared.
“I—I—”
Shebrokeoff.Fortwoorthreeminutesshesatirresolute,lookingdownatherdanglingslipper.Alittlepieceofearthdetacheditselffromtheheelandfellonthecarpet.
SuddenlyRuthChevenix-Goresaid:
“Wait!”
Shegotupandranoutoftheroom.ShereturnedalmostimmediatelywithCaptainLakebyherside.
“It’sgottocomeout,”shesaidratherbreathlessly.“Youmightaswellknownow.JohnandIweremarriedinLondonthreeweeksago.”
Ten
Ofthetwoofthem,CaptainLakelookedfarthemoreembarrassed.
“Thisisagreatsurprise,MissChevenix-Gore—Mrs.Lake,Ishouldsay,”saidMajorRiddle.“Didnooneknowofthismarriageofyours?”
“No,wekeptitquitedark.Johndidn’tlikethatpartofitmuch.”
Lakesaid,stammeringalittle:
“I—Iknowthatitseemsratherarottenwaytosetaboutthings.IoughttohavegonestraighttoSirGervase—”
Ruthinterrupted:
“Andtoldhimyouwantedtomarryhisdaughter,andhavebeenkickedoutonyourheadandhe’dprobablyhavedisinheritedme,raisedhellgenerallyinthehouse,andwecouldhavetoldeachotherhowbeautifullywe’dbehaved!Believeme,mywaywasbetter!Ifathing’sdone,it’sdone.Therewouldstillhavebeenarow—buthe’dhavecomeround.”
Lakestilllookedunhappy.Poirotasked:
“WhendidyouintendtobreakthenewstoSirGervase?”
Ruthanswered:
“Iwaspreparingtheground.He’dbeenrathersuspiciousaboutmeandJohn,soIpretendedtoturnmyattentionstoGodfrey.Naturally,hewasreadytogoquiteoffthedeependaboutthat.IfigureditoutthatthenewsIwasmarriedtoJohnwouldcomealmostasarelief!”
“Didanybodyatallknowofthismarriage?”
“Yes,ItoldVandaintheend.Iwantedtogetheronmyside.”
“Andyousucceededindoingso?”
“Yes.Yousee,shewasn’tverykeenaboutmymarryingHugo—becausehewasacousin,Ithink.Sheseemedtothinkthefamilywassobattyalreadythatwe’dprobablyhavecompletelybattychildren.Thatwasprobablyratherabsurd,becauseI’monlyadopted,youknow.IbelieveI’msomequitedistantcousin’schild.”
“YouaresureSirGervasehadnosuspicionofthetruth?”
“Oh,no.”
Poirotsaid:
“Isthattrue,CaptainLake?InyourinterviewwithSirGervasethisafternoon,areyouquitesurethematterwasnotmentioned?”
“No,sir.Itwasnot.”
“Because,yousee,CaptainLake,thereiscertainevidencetoshowthatSirGervasewasinahighly-excitableconditionafterthetimehespentwithyou,andthathespokeonceortwiceoffamilydishonour.”
“Thematterwasnotmentioned,”Lakerepeated.Hisfacehadgoneverywhite.
“WasthatthelasttimeyousawSirGervase?”
“Yes,Ihavealreadytoldyouso.”
“Wherewereyouateightminutespasteightthisevening?”
“WherewasI?Inmyhouse.Attheendofthevillage,abouthalfamileaway.”
“YoudidnotcomeuptoHamboroughCloseroundaboutthattime?”
“No.”
Poirotturnedtothegirl.
“Wherewereyou,mademoiselle,whenyourfathershothimself?”
“Inthegarden.”
“Inthegarden?Youheardtheshot?”
“Oh,yes.ButIdidn’tthinkaboutitparticularly.Ithoughtitwassomeoneoutshootingrabbits,althoughnowIrememberIdidthinkitsoundedquitecloseathand.”
“Youreturnedtothehouse—whichway?”
“Icameinthroughthiswindow.”
Ruthindicatedwithaturnofherheadthewindowbehindher.
“Wasanyoneinhere?”
“No.ButHugoandSusanandMissLingardcameinfromthehallalmostimmediately.Theyweretalkingaboutshootingandmurdersandthings.”
“Isee,”saidPoirot.“Yes,IthinkIseenow….”
MajorRiddlesaidratherdoubtfully:
“Well—er—thankyou.Ithinkthat’sallforthemoment.”
Ruthandherhusbandturnedandlefttheroom.
“Whatthedevil——”beganMajorRiddle,andendedratherhopelessly:“Itgetsmoreandmoredifficulttokeeptrackofthisbusiness.”
Poirotnodded.HehadpickedupthelittlepieceofearththathadfallenfromRuth’sshoeandwasholdingitthoughtfullyinhishand.
“Itislikethemirrorsmashedonthewall,”hesaid.“Thedeadman’smirror.Everynewfactwecomeacrossshowsussomedifferentangleofthedeadman.Heisreflectedfromeveryconceivablepointofview.Weshallhavesoonacompletepicture….”
Heroseandputthelittlepieceofearthtidilyinthewaste-paperbasket.
“Iwilltellyouonething,myfriend.Thecluetothewholemysteryisthemirror.Gointothestudyandlookforyourself,ifyoudonotbelieveme.”
MajorRiddle,saiddecisively:
“Ifit’smurder,it’suptoyoutoproveit.Ifyouaskme,Isayit’sdefinitelysuicide.DidyounoticewhatthegirlsaidaboutaformeragenthavingswindledoldGervase?IbetLaketoldthattaleforhisownpurposes.Hewasprobablyhelpinghimselfabit,SirGervasesuspectedit,andsentforyoubecausehedidn’tknowhowfarthingshadgonebetweenLakeandRuth.ThenthisafternoonLaketoldhimtheyweremarried.ThatbrokeGervaseup.Itwas‘toolate’nowforanythingtobedone.Hedeterminedtogetoutofitall.Infacthisbrain,neververywell-balancedatthebestoftimes,gaveway.Inmyopinionthat’swhathappened.Whathaveyougottosayagainstit?”
Poirotstoodstillinthemiddleoftheroom.
“WhathaveItosay?This:Ihavenothingtosayagainstyourtheory—butitdoesnotgofarenough.Therearecertainthingsitdoesnottakeintoaccount.”
“Suchas?”
“ThediscrepanciesinSirGervase’smoodstoday,thefindingofColonelBury’spencil,theevidenceofMissCardwell(whichisveryimportant),theevidenceofMissLingardastotheorderinwhichpeoplecamedowntodinner,thepositionofSirGervase’schairwhenhewasfound,thepaperbagwhichhadheldorangesand,finally,theall-importantclueofthebrokenmirror.”
MajorRiddlestared.
“Areyougoingtotellmethatthatrigmarolemakessense?”heasked.
HerculePoirotrepliedsoftly:
“Ihopetomakeitdoso—bytomorrow.”
Eleven
ItwasjustafterdawnwhenHerculePoirotawokeonthefollowingmorning.Hehadbeengivenabedroomontheeastsideofthehouse.
Gettingoutofbed,hedrewasidethewindowblindandsatisfiedhimselfthatthesunhadrisen,andthatitwasafinemorning.
Hebegantodresswithhisusualmeticulouscare.Havingfinishedhistoilet,hewrappedhimselfupinathickovercoatandwoundamufflerroundhisneck.
Thenhetiptoedoutofhisroomandthroughthesilenthousedowntothedrawingroom.Heopenedthefrenchwindowsnoiselesslyandpassedoutintothegarden.
Thesunwasjustshowingnow.Theairwasmisty,withthemistofafinemorning.HerculePoirotfollowedtheterracedwalkroundthesideofthehousetillhecametothewindowsofSirGervase’sstudy.Herehestoppedandsurveyedthescene.
Immediatelyoutsidethewindowswasastripofgrassthatranparallelwiththehouse.Infrontofthatwasawideherbaceousborder.Themichaelmasdaisiesstillmadeafineshow.InfrontoftheborderwastheflaggedwalkwherePoirotwasstanding.Astripofgrassranfromthegrasswalkbehindthebordertotheterrace.Poirotexamineditcarefully,thenshookhishead.Heturnedhisattentiontotheborderoneithersideofit.
Veryslowlyhenoddedhishead.Intheright-handbed,distinctinthesoftmould,therewerefootprints.
Ashestareddownatthem,frowning,asoundcaughthisearsandheliftedhisheadsharply.
Abovehimawindowhadbeenpushedup.Hesawaredheadofhair.FramedinanaureoleofgoldenredhesawtheintelligentfaceofSusanCardwell.
“Whatonearthareyoudoingatthishour,M.Poirot?Aspotofsleuthing?”
Poirotbowedwiththeutmostcorrectitude.
“Goodmorning,mademoiselle.Yes,itisasyousay.Younowbeholdadetective—agreatdetective,Imaysay—intheactofdetecting!”
Theremarkwasalittleflamboyant.Susanputherheadononeside.
“Imustrememberthisinmymemoirs,”sheremarked.“ShallIcomedownandhelp?”
“Ishouldbeenchanted.”
“Ithoughtyouwereaburglaratfirst.Whichwaydidyougetout?”
“Throughthedrawingroomwindow.”
“JustaminuteandI’llbewithyou.”
Shewasasgoodasherword.ToallappearancesPoirotwasexactlyinthesamepositionaswhenshehadfirstseenhim.
“Youareawakeveryearly,mademoiselle?”
“Ihaven’tbeentosleepreallyproperly.Iwasjustgettingthatdesperatefeelingthatonedoesgetatfiveinthemorning.”
“It’snotquitesoearlyasthat!”
“Itfeelslikeit!Nowthen,mysupersleuth,whatarewelookingat?”
“Butobserve,mademoiselle,footprints.”
“Sotheyare.”
“Fourofthem,”continuedPoirot.“See,Iwillpointthemouttoyou.Twogoingtowardsthewindow,twocomingfromit.”
“Whosearethey?Thegardener’s?”
“Mademoiselle,mademoiselle!Thosefootmarksaremadebythesmalldaintyhigh-heeledshoesofawoman.See,convinceyourself.Step,Ibegofyou,intheearthherebesidethem.”
Susanhesitatedaminute,thenplacedafootgingerlyontothemouldintheplaceindicatedbyPoirot.Shewaswearingsmallhigh-heeledslippersofdarkbrownleather.
“Yousee,yoursarenearlythesamesize.Nearly,butnotquite.Theseothersaremadebyaratherlongerfootthanyours.PerhapsMissChevenix-Gore’s—orMissLingard’s—orevenLadyChevenix-Gore’s.”
“NotLadyChevenix-Gore—she’sgottinyfeet.Peopledidinthosedays—managetohavesmallfeet,Imean.AndMissLingardwearsqueerflat-heeledthings.”
“ThentheyarethemarksofMissChevenix-Gore.Ah,yes,Iremembershementionedhavingbeenoutinthegardenyesterdayevening.”
Heledthewaybackroundthehouse.
“Arewestillsleuthing?”askedSusan
“Butcertainly.WewillgonowtoSirGervase’sstudy.”
Heledtheway.SusanCardwellfollowedhim.
Thedoorstillhunginamelancholyfashion.Inside,theroomwasasithadbeenlastnight.Poirotpulledthecurtainsandadmittedthedaylight.
Hestoodlookingoutattheborderaminuteortwo,thenhesaid:
“Youhavenot,Ipresume,mademoiselle,muchacquaintancewithburglars?”
SusanCardwellshookherredheadregretfully.
“I’mafraidnot,M.Poirot.”
“Thechiefconstable,he,too,hasnothadtheadvantagesofafriendlyrelationshipwiththem.Hisconnectionwiththecriminalclaseshasalwaysbeenstrictlyofficial.Withmethatisnotso.Ihadaverypleasantchatwithaburglaronce.Hetoldmeaninterestingthingaboutfrenchwindows—atrickthatcouldsometimesbeemployedifthefasteningwassufficientlyloose.”
Heturnedthehandleoftheleft-handwindowashespoke,themiddleshaftcameupoutoftheholeintheground,andPoirotwasabletopullthetwodoorsofthewindowtowardshim.Havingopenedthemwide,heclosedthemagain—closedthemwithoutturningthehandle,soasnottosendtheshaftdownintoitssocket.Heletgoofthehandle,waitedamoment,thenstruckaquick,jarringblowhighuponthecentreoftheshaft.Thejaroftheblowsenttheshaftdownintothesocketintheground—thehandleturnedofitsownaccord.
“Yousee,mademoiselle?”
“IthinkIdo.”
Susanhadgoneratherpale.
“Thewindowisnowclosed.Itisimpossibletoenteraroomwhenthewindowisclosed,butitispossibletoleavearoom,pullthedoorstofromoutside,thenhititasIdid,andtheboltgoesdownintotheground,turningthehandle.Thewindowthenisfirmlyclosed,andanyonelookingatitwouldsayithadbeenclosedfromtheinside.”
“Isthat”—Susan’svoiceshookalittle—“isthatwhathappenedlastnight?”
“Ithinkso,yes,mademoiselle.”
Susansaidviolently:
“Idon’tbelieveawordofit.”
Poirotdidnotanswer.Hewalkedovertothemantelpiece.Hewheeledsharplyround.
“Mademoiselle,Ihaveneedofyouasawitness.Ihavealreadyonewitness,Mr.Trent.Hesawmefindthistinysliveroflookingglasslastnight.Ispokeofittohim.Ileftitwhereitwasforthepolice.Ieventoldthechiefconstablethatavaluablecluewasthebrokenmirror.Buthedidnotavailhimselfofmyhint.NowyouareawitnessthatIplacethissliveroflookingglass(towhich,remember,IhavealreadycalledMr.Trent’sattention)intoalittleenvelope—so.”Hesuitedtheactiontotheword.“AndIwriteonit—so—andsealitup.Youareawitness,mademoiselle?”
“Yes—but—butIdon’tknowwhatitmeans.”
Poirotwalkedovertotheothersideoftheroom.Hestoodinfrontofthedeskandstaredattheshatteredmirroronthewallinfrontofhim.
“Iwilltellyouwhatitmeans,mademoiselle.Ifyouhadbeenstandingherelastnight,lookingintothismirror,youcouldhaveseeninitmurderbeingcommitted….”
Twelve
I
ForonceinherlifeRuthChevenix-Gore—nowRuthLake—camedowntobreakfastingoodtime.HerculePoirotwasinthehallanddrewherasidebeforeshewentintothediningroom.
“Ihaveaquestiontoaskyou,madame.”
“Yes?”
“Youwereinthegardenlastnight.DidyouatanytimestepintheflowerbedoutsideSirGervase’sstudywindow?”
Ruthstaredathim.
“Yes,twice.”
“Ah!Twice.Howtwice?”
“ThefirsttimeIwaspickingmichaelmasdaisies.Thatwasaboutseveno’clock.”
“Wasitnotratheranoddtimeofdaytopickflowers?”
“Yes,itwas,asamatteroffact.I’ddonetheflowersyesterdaymorning,butVandasaidafterteathattheflowersonthedinnertableweren’tgoodenough.Ihadthoughttheywouldbeallright,soIhadn’tdonethemfresh.”
“Butyourmotherrequestedyoutodothem?Isthatright?”
“Yes.SoIwentoutjustbeforeseven.Itookthemfromthatpartoftheborderbecausehardlyanyonegoesroundthere,andsoitdidn’tmatterspoilingtheeffect.”
“Yes,yes,butthesecondtime.Youwentthereasecondtime,yousaid?”
“Thatwasjustbeforedinner.Ihaddroppedaspotofbrilliantineonmydress—justbytheshoulder.Ididn’twanttobothertochange,andnoneofmyartificialflowerswentwiththeyellowofthatdress.IrememberedI’dseenalaterosewhenIwaspickingthemichaelmasdaisies,soIhurriedoutandgotitandpinneditonmyshoulder.”
Poirotnoddedhisheadslowly.
“Yes,Irememberthatyouworearoselastnight.Whattimewasit,madame,whenyoupickedthatrose?”
“Idon’treallyknow.”
“Butitisessential,madame.Consider—reflect.”
Ruthfrowned.ShelookedswiftlyatPoirotandthenawayagain.
“Ican’tsayexactly,”shesaidatlast.“Itmusthavebeen—oh,ofcourse—itmusthavebeenaboutfiveminutespasteight.ItwaswhenIwasonmywaybackroundthehousethatIheardthegonggo,andthenthatfunnybang.IwashurryingbecauseIthoughtitwasthesecondgongandnotthefirst.”
“Ah,soyouthoughtthat—anddidyounottrythestudywindowwhenyoustoodthereintheflowerbed?”
“Asamatteroffact,Idid.Ithoughtitmightbeopen,anditwouldbequickertocomeinthatway.Butitwasfastened.”
“Soeverythingisexplained.Icongratulateyou,madame.”
Shestaredathim.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Thatyouhaveanexplanationforeverything,forthemouldonyourshoes,foryourfootprintsintheflowerbed,foryourfingerprintsontheoutsideofthewindow.Itisveryconvenientthat.”
BeforeRuthcouldanswer,MissLingardcamehurryingdownthestairs.Therewasaqueerpurpleflushonhercheeks,andshelookedalittlestartledatseeingPoirotandRuthstandingtogether.
“Ibegyourpardon,”shesaid.“Isanythingthematter?”
Ruthsaidangrily:
“IthinkM.Poirothasgonemad!”
Shesweptbythemandintothediningroom.MissLingardturnedanastonishedfaceonPoirot.
Heshookhishead.
“Afterbreakfast,”hesaid.“Iwillexplain.IshouldlikeeveryonetoassembleinSirGervase’sstudyatteno’clock.”
Herepeatedthisrequestonenteringthediningroom.
SusanCardwellgavehimaquickglance,thentransferredhergazetoRuth.WhenHugosaid:
“Eh?What’stheidea?”shegavehimasharpnudgeintheside,andheshutupobediently.
Whenhehadfinishedhisbreakfast,Poirotroseandwalkedtothedoor.Heturnedanddrewoutalargeold-fashionedwatch.
“Itisfiveminutestoten.Infiveminutes—inthestudy.”
II
Poirotlookedroundhim.Acircleofinterestedfacesstaredbackathim.Everyonewasthere,henoted,withoneexception,andatthatverymomenttheexceptionsweptintotheroom.LadyChevenix-Gorecameinwithasoft,glidingstep.Shelookedhaggardandill.
Poirotdrewforwardabigchairforher,andshesatdown.
Shelookedupatthebrokenmirror,shivered,andpulledherchairalittlewayround.
“Gervaseisstillhere,”sheremarkedinamatter-of-facttone.“PoorGervase…Hewillsoonbefreenow.”
Poirotclearedhisthroatandannounced:
“IhaveaskedyoualltocomeheresothatyoumayhearthetruefactsofSirGervase’ssuicide.”
“ItwasFate,”saidLadyChevenix-Gore.“Gervasewasstrong,buthisFatewasstronger.”
ColonelBurymovedforwardalittle.
“Vanda—mydear.”
Shesmiledupathim,thenputupherhand.Hetookitinhis.Shesaidsoftly:“Youaresuchacomfort,Ned.”
Ruthsaidsharply:
“Arewetounderstand,M.Poirot,thatyouhavedefinitelyascertainedthecauseofmyfather’ssuicide?”
Poirotshookhishead.
“No,madame.”
“Thenwhatisallthisrigmaroleabout?”
Poirotsaidquietly:
“IdonotknowthecauseofSirGervaseChevenix-Gore’ssuicide,becauseSirGervaseChevenix-Goredidnotcommitsuicide.Hedidnotkillhimself.Hewaskilled….”
“Killed?”Severalvoicesechoedtheword.StartledfaceswereturnedinPoirot’sdirection.LadyChevenix-Gorelookedup,said,“Killed?Oh,no!”andgentlyshookherhead.
“Killed,didyousay?”ItwasHugowhospokenow.“Impossible.Therewasnooneintheroomwhenwebrokein.Thewindowwasfastened.Thedoorwaslockedontheinside,andthekeywasinmyuncle’spocket.Howcouldhehavebeenkilled?”
“Nevertheless,hewaskilled.”
“Andthemurdererescapedthroughthekeyhole,Isuppose?”saidColonelBurysceptically.“Orflewupthechimney?”
“Themurderer,”saidPoirot,“wentoutthroughthewindow.Iwillshowyouhow.”
Herepeatedhismanoeuvreswiththewindow.
“Yousee?”hesaid.“Thatwashowitwasdone!FromthefirstIcouldnotconsideritlikelythatSirGervasehadcommittedsuicide.Hehadpronouncedegomania,andsuchamandoesnotkillhimself.
“Andtherewereotherthings!Apparently,justbeforehisdeath,SirGervasehadsatdownathisdesk,scrawledthewordSORRYonasheetofnotepaperandhadthenshothimself.Butbeforethislastactionhehad,forsomereasonorotheralteredthepositionofhischair,turningitsothatitwassidewaystothedesk.Why?Theremustbesomereason.IbegantoseelightwhenIfound,stickingtothebaseofaheavybronzestatuette,atinysliveroflookingglass….
“Iaskedmyself,howdoesasliverofbrokenlookingglasscometobethere?—andananswersuggesteditselftome.Themirrorhadbeenbroken,notbyabullet,butbybeingstruckwiththeheavybronzefigure.Thatmirrorhadbeenbrokendeliberately.
“Butwhy?Ireturnedtothedeskandlookeddownatthechair.Yes,Isawnow.Itwasallwrong.Nosuicidewouldturnhischairround,leanovertheedgeofit,andthenshoothimself.Thewholethingwasarranged.Thesuicidewasafake!
“AndnowIcometosomethingveryimportant.TheevidenceofMissCardwell.MissCardwellsaidthatshehurrieddownstairslastnightbecauseshethoughtthatthesecondgonghadsounded.Thatistosay,shethoughtthatshehadalreadyheardthefirstgong.
“Nowobserve,ifSirGervasewassittingathisdeskinthenormalfashionwhenhewasshot,wherewouldthebulletgo?Travellinginastraightline,itwouldpassthroughthedoor,ifthedoorwereopen,andfinallyhitthegong!
“YouseenowtheimportanceofMissCardwell’sstatement?Nooneelseheardthefirstgong,but,then,herroomissituatedimmediatelyabovethisone,andshewasinthebestpositionforhearingit.Itwouldconsistofonlyonesinglenote,remember.
“TherecouldbenoquestionofSirGervase’sshootinghimself.Adeadmancannotgetup,shutthedoor,lockitandarrangehimselfinaconvenientposition!Somebodyelsewasconcerned,andthereforeitwasnotsuicide,butmurder.SomeonewhosepresencewaseasilyacceptedbySirGervase,stoodbyhissidetalkingtohim.SirGervasewasbusywriting,perhaps.Themurdererbringsthepistoluptotherightsideofhisheadandfires.Thedeedisdone!Thenquick,towork!Themurdererslipsongloves.Thedoorislocked,thekeyputinSirGervase’spocket.Butsupposingthatoneloudnoteofthegonghasbeenheard?Thenitwillberealizedthatthedoorwasopen,notshut,whentheshotwasfired.Sothechairisturned,thebodyrearranged,thedeadman’sfingerspressedonthepistol,themirrordeliberatelysmashed.Thenthemurderergoesoutthroughthewindow,jarsitshut,steps,notonthegrass,butintheflowerbedwherefootprintscanbesmoothedoutafterwards;thenroundthesideofthehouseandintothedrawingroom.”
Hepausedandsaid:
“Therewasonlyonepersonwhowasoutinthegardenwhentheshotwasfired.Thatsamepersonleftherfootprintsintheflowerbedandherfingerprintsontheoutsideofthewindow.”
HecametowardsRuth.
“Andtherewasamotive,wasn’tthere?Yourfatherhadlearntofyoursecretmarriage.Hewaspreparingtodisinherityou.”
“It’salie!”Ruth’svoicecamescornfulandclear.“There’snotawordoftruthinyourstory.It’saliefromstarttofinish!”
“Theproofsagainstyouareverystrong,madame.Ajurymaybelieveyou.Itmaynot!”
“Shewon’thavetofaceajury.”
Theothersturned—startled.MissLingardwasonherfeet.Herfacealtered.Shewastremblingallover.
“Ishothim.Iadmitit!Ihadmyreason.I—I’vebeenwaitingforsometime.M.Poirotisquiteright.Ifollowedhiminhere.Ihadtakenthepistoloutofthedrawerearlier.Istoodbesidehimtalkingaboutthebook—andIshothim.Thatwasjustaftereight.Thebulletstruckthegong.Ineverdreamtitwouldpassrightthroughhisheadlikethat
ShelookedatPoirot.
“Youdon’tknowwhatIdidthen?”
“Ohyes,Ido.Ifoundthebaginthewastepaperbasket.Itwasveryclever,thatideaofyours.Youdidwhatchildrenlovetodo.Youblewupthebagandthenhitit.Itmadeasatisfactorybigbang.Youthrewthebagintothewastepaperbasketandrushedoutintothehall.Youhadestablishedthetimeofthesuicide—andanalibiforyourself.Buttherewasstillonethingthatworriedyou.Youhadnothadtimetopickupthebullet.Itmustbesomewherenearthegong.Itwasessentialthatthebulletshouldbefoundinthestudysomewherenearthemirror.Ididn’tknowwhenyouhadtheideaoftakingColonelBury’spencil—”
“Itwasjustthen,”saidMissLingard.“Whenweallcameinfromthehall.IwassurprisedtoseeRuthintheroom.Irealizedshemusthavecomefromthegardenthroughthewindow.ThenInoticedColonelBury’spencillyingonthebridgetable.Islippeditintomybag.If,later,anyonesawmepickupthebullet,Icouldpretenditwasthepencil.Asamatteroffact,Ididn’tthinkanyonesawmepickupthebullet.Idroppeditbythemirrorwhileyouwerelookingatthebody.Whenyoutackledmeonthesubject,IwasverygladIhadthoughtofthepencil.”
“Yes,thatwasclever.Itconfusedmecompletely.”
“Iwasafraidsomeonemustheartherealshot,butIkneweveryonewasdressingfordinner,andwouldbeshutawayintheirrooms.Theservantswereintheirquarters.MissCardwellwastheonlyoneatalllikelytohearit,andshewouldprobablythinkitwasabackfire.Whatshedidhearwasthegong.Ithought—Ithoughteverythinghadgonewithoutahitch….”
Mr.Forbessaidslowlyinhisprecisetones:
“Thisisamostextraordinarystory.Thereseemsnomotive—”
MissLingardsaidclearly:“Therewasamotive….”
Sheaddedfiercely:
“Goon,ringupthepolice!Whatareyouwaitingfor?”
Poirotsaidgently:
“Willyouallpleaseleavetheroom?Mr.Forbes,ringupMajorRiddle.Iwillstayheretillhecomes.”
Slowly,onebyone,thefamilyfiledoutoftheroom.Puzzled,uncomprehending,shocked,theycastabashedglancesatthetrim,uprightfigurewithitsneatly-partedgreyhair.
Ruthwasthelasttogo.Shestood,hesitatinginthedoorway.
“Idon’tunderstand.”Shespokeangrily,defiantly,accusingPoirot.“Justnow,youthoughtIhaddoneit.”
“No,no,”Poirotshookhishead.“No,Ineverthoughtthat.”
Ruthwentoutslowly.
Poirotwasleftwiththelittlemiddle-agedprimwomanwhohadjustconfessedtoacleverly-plannedandcold-bloodedmurder.
“No,”saidMissLingard.“Youdidn’tthinkshehaddoneit.Youaccusedhertomakemespeak.That’sright,isn’tit?”
Poirotbowedhishead.
“Whilewe’rewaiting,”saidMissLingardinaconversationaltone,“youmighttellmewhatmadeyoususpectme.”
“Severalthings.Tobeginwith,youraccountofSirGervase.AproudmanlikeSirGervasewouldneverspeakdisparaginglyofhisnephewtoanoutsider,especiallysomeoneinyourposition.Youwantedtostrengthenthetheoryofsuicide.YoualsowentoutofyourwaytosuggestthatthecauseofthesuicidewassomedishonourabletroubleconnectedwithHugoTrent.That,again,wasathingSirGervasewouldneverhaveadmittedtoastranger.Thentherewastheobjectyoupickedupinthehall,andtheverysignificantfactthatyoudidnotmentionthatRuth,whensheenteredthedrawingroom,didsofromthegarden.AndthenIfoundthepaperbag—amostunlikelyobjecttofindinthewastepaperbasketinthedrawingroomofahouselikeHamboroughClose!Youweretheonlypersonwhohadbeeninthedrawingroomwhenthe‘shot’washeard.Thepaperbagtrickwasonethatwouldsuggestitselftoawoman—aningenioushomemadedevice.Soeverythingfittedin.TheendeavourtothrowsuspiciononHugo,andtokeepitawayfromRuth.Themechanismofcrime—anditsmotive.”
Thelittlegrey-hairedwomanstirred.
“Youknowthemotive?”
“Ithinkso.Ruth’shappiness—thatwasthemotive!IfancythatyouhadseenherwithJohnLake—youknewhowitwaswiththem.AndthenwithyoureasyaccesstoSirGervase’spapers,youcameacrossthedraftofhisnewwill—RuthdisinheritedunlessshemarriedHugoTrent.Thatdecidedyoutotakethelawintoyourownhands,usingthefactthatSirGervasehadpreviouslywrittentome.Youprobablysawacopyofthatletter.Whatmuddledfeelingofsuspicionandfearhadcausedhimtowriteoriginally,Idonotknow.HemusthavesuspectedeitherBurrowsorLakeofsystematicallyrobbinghim.HisuncertaintyregardingRuth’sfeelingsmadehimseekaprivateinvestigation.Youusedthatfactanddeliberatelysetthestageforsuicide,backingitupbyyouraccountofhisbeingverydistressedoversomethingconnectedwithHugoTrent.YousentatelegramtomeandreportedSirGervaseashavingsaidIshouldarrive‘toolate.’”
MissLingardsaidfiercely:
“GervaseChevenix-Gorewasabully,asnobandawindbag!Iwasn’tgoingtohavehimruinRuth’shappiness.”
Poirotsaidgently:
“Ruthisyourdaughter?”
“Yes—sheismydaughter—I’veoften—thoughtabouther.WhenIheardSirGervaseChevenix-Gorewantedsomeonetohelphimwithafamilyhistory,Ijumpedatthechance.Iwascurioustoseemy—mygirl.IknewLadyChevenix-Gorewouldn’trecognizeme.Itwasyearsago—Iwasyoungandprettythen,andIchangedmynameafterthattime.BesidesLadyChevenix-Goreistoovaguetoknowanythingdefinitely.Ilikedher,butIhatedtheChevenix-Gorefamily.Theytreatedmelikedirt.AndherewasGervasegoingtoruinRuth’slifewithprideandsnobbery.ButIdeterminedthatsheshouldbehappy.Andshewillbehappy—ifsheneverknowsaboutme!”
Itwasaplea—notaquestion.
Poirotbenthisheadgently.
“Nooneshallknowfromme.”
MissLingardsaidquietly:
“Thankyou.”
III
Later,whenthepolicehadcomeandgone,PoirotfoundRuthLakewithherhusbandinthegarden.
Shesaidchallengingly:
“DidyoureallythinkthatIhaddoneit,M.Poirot?”
“Iknew,madame,thatyoucouldnothavedoneit—becauseofthemichaelmasdaisies.”
“Themichaelmasdaisies?Idon’tunderstand.”
“Madame,therewerefourfootprintsandfourfootprintsonlyintheborder.Butifyouhadbeenpickingflowerstherewouldhavebeenmanymore.Thatmeantthatbetweenyourfirstvisitandyoursecond,someonehadsmoothedallthosefootstepsaway.Thatcouldonlyhavebeendonebytheguiltyperson,andsinceyourfootprintshadnotbeenremoved,youwerenottheguiltyperson.Youwereautomaticallycleared.”
Ruth’sfacelightened.
“Oh,Isee.Youknow—Isupposeit’sdreadful,butIfeelrathersorryforthatpoorwoman.Afterall,shedidconfessratherthanletmebearrested—oratanyrate,thatiswhatshethought.Thatwas—rathernobleinaway.Ihatetothinkofhergoingthroughatrialformurder.”
Poirotsaidgently:
“Donotdistressyourself.Itwillnotcometothat.Thedoctor,hetellsmethatshehasserioushearttrouble.Shewillnotlivemanyweeks.”
“I’mgladofthat.”Ruthpickedanautumncrocusandpresseditidlyagainsthercheek.
“Poorwoman.Iwonderwhyshedidit….”
TRIANGLEATRHODES
One
HerculePoirotsatonthewhitesandandlookedoutacrossthesparklingbluewater.Hewascarefullydressedinadandifiedfashioninwhiteflannelsandalargepanamahatprotectedhishead.Hebelongedtotheold-fashionedgenerationwhichbelievedincoveringitselfcarefullyfromthesun.MissPamelaLyall,whosatbesidehimandtalkedceaselessly,representedthemodernschoolofthoughtinthatshewaswearingthebarestminimumofclothingonhersun-brownedperson.
Occasionallyherflowofconversationstoppedwhilstshereanointedherselffromabottleofoilyfluidwhichstoodbe-sideher.
OnthefarthersideofMissPamelaLyallhergreatfriend,MissSarahBlake,layfacedownwardsonagaudily-stripedtowel.MissBlake’stanningwasasperfectaspossibleandherfriendcastdissatisfiedglancesathermorethanonce.
“I’msopatchystill,”shemurmuredregretfully.“M.Poirot—wouldyoumind?Justbelowtherightshoulderblade—Ican’treachtorubitinproperly.”
M.Poirotobligedandthenwipedhisoilyhandcarefullyonhishandkerchief.MissLyall,whoseprincipalinterestsinlifeweretheobservationofpeopleroundherandthesoundofherownvoice,continuedtotalk.
“Iwasrightaboutthatwoman—theoneintheChanelmodel—itisValentineDacres—Chantry,Imean.Ithoughtitwas.Irecognizedheratonce.She’sreallyrathermarvellous,isn’tshe?ImeanIcanunderstandhowpeoplegoquitecrazyabouther.Shejustobviouslyexpectsthemto!That’shalfthebattle.ThoseotherpeoplewhocamelastnightarecalledGold.He’sterriblygood-looking.”
“Honeymooners?”murmuredSarahinastifledvoice.
MissLyallshookherheadinanexperiencedmanner.
“Oh,no—herclothesaren’tnewenough.Youcanalwaystellbrides!Don’tyouthinkit’sthemostfascinatingthingintheworldtowatchpeople,M.Poirot,andseewhatyoucanfindoutaboutthembyjustlooking?”
“Notjustlooking,darling,”saidSarahsweetly.“Youaskalotofquestions,too.”
“Ihaven’tevenspokentotheGoldsyet,”saidMissLyallwithdignity.“AndanywayIdon’tseewhyoneshouldn’tbeinterestedinone’sfellowcreatures?Humannatureissimplyfascinating.Don’tyouthinkso,M.Poirot?”
Thistimeshepausedlongenoughtoallowhercompaniontoreply.
Withouttakinghiseyesoffthebluewater,M.Poirotreplied:
“?adepend.”
Pamelawasshocked.
“Oh,M.Poirot!Idon’tthinkanything’ssointeresting—soincalculableasahumanbeing!”
“Incalculable?That,no.”
“Oh,buttheyare.Justasyouthinkyou’vegotthembeautifullytaped—theydosomethingcompletelyunexpected.”
HerculePoirotshookhishead.
“No,no,thatisnottrue.Itismostrarethatanyonedoesanactionthatisnotdanssoncaractère.Itisintheendmonotonous.”
“Idon’tagreewithyouatall!”saidMissPamelaLyall.
Shewassilentforquiteaminuteandahalfbeforereturningtotheattack.
“AssoonasIseepeopleIbeginwonderingaboutthem—whatthey’relike—whatrelationstheyaretoeachother—whatthey’rethinkingandfeeling.It’s—oh,it’squitethrilling.”
“Hardlythat,”saidHerculePoirot.“Naturerepeatsherselfmorethanonewouldimagine.Thesea,”headdedthoughtfully,“hasinfinitelymorevariety.”
Sarahturnedherheadsidewaysandasked:
“Youthinkthathumanbeingstendtoreproducecertainpatterns?Stereotypedpatterns?”
“Précisément,”saidPoirot,andtracedadesigninthesandwithhisfinger.
“What’sthatyou’redrawing?”askedPamelacuriously.
“Atriangle,”saidPoirot.
ButPamela’sattentionhadbeendivertedelsewhere.
“HerearetheChantrys,”shesaid.
Awomanwascomingdownthebeach—atallwoman,veryconsciousofherselfandherbody.Shegaveahalfnodandsmileandsatdownalittledistanceawayonthebeach.Thescarletandgoldsilkwrapslippeddownfromhershoulders.Shewaswearingawhitebathingdress.
Pamelasighed.
“Hasn’tshegotalovelyfigure?”
ButPoirotwaslookingatherface—thefaceofawomanofthirty-ninewhohadbeenfamoussincesixteenforherbeauty.
Heknew,aseveryoneknew,allaboutValentineChantry.Shehadbeenfamousformanythings—forhercaprices,forherwealth,forherenormoussapphire-blueeyes,forhermatrimonialventuresandadventures.Shehadhadfivehusbandsandinnumerablelovers.ShehadinturnbeenthewifeofanItaliancount,ofanAmericansteelmagnate,ofatennisprofessional,ofaracingmotorist.OfthesefourtheAmericanhaddied,buttheothershadbeenshednegligentlyinthedivorcecourt.Sixmonthsagoshehadmarriedafifthtime—acommanderinthenavy.
Heitwaswhocamestridingdownthebeachbehindher.Silent,dark—withapugnaciousjawandasullenmanner.Atouchoftheprimevalapeabouthim.
Shesaid:
“Tonydarling—mycigarettecase…”
Hehaditreadyforher—lightedhercigarette—helpedhertoslipthestrapsofthewhitebathingdressfromhershoulders.Shelay,armsoutstretchedinthesun.Hesatbyherlikesomewildbeastthatguardsitsprey.
Pamelasaid,hervoicejustloweredsufficiently:
“Youknowtheyinterestmefrightfully…He’ssuchabrute!Sosilentand—sortofglowering.Isupposeawomanofherkindlikesthat.Itmustbelikecontrollingatiger!Iwonderhowlongitwilllast.Shegetstiredofthemverysoon,Ibelieve—especiallynowadays.Allthesame,ifshetriedtogetridofhim,Ithinkhemightbedangerous.”
Anothercouplecamedownthebeach—rathershyly.Theywerethenewcomersofthenightbefore.Mr.andMrs.DouglasGoldasMissLyallknewfromherinspectionofthehotelvisitors’book.Sheknew,too,forsuchweretheItalianregulations—theirChristiannamesandtheiragesassetdownfromtheirpassports.
Mr.DouglasCameronGoldwasthirty-oneandMrs.MarjorieEmmaGoldwasthirty-five.
MissLyall’shobbyinlife,ashasbeensaid,wasthestudyofhumanbeings.UnlikemostEnglishpeople,shewascapableofspeakingtostrangersonsightinsteadofallowingfourdaystoaweektoelapsebeforemakingthefirstcautiousadvanceasisthecustomaryBritishhabit.She,therefore,notingtheslighthesitancyandshynessofMrs.Gold’sadvance,calledout:
“Goodmorning,isn’titalovelyday?”
Mrs.Goldwasasmallwoman—ratherlikeamouse.Shewasnotbad-looking,indeedherfeatureswereregularandhercomplexiongood,butshehadacertainairofdiffidenceanddowdinessthatmadeherliabletobeoverlooked.Herhusband,ontheotherhand,wasextremelygood-looking,inanalmosttheatricalmanner.Veryfair,crisplycurlinghair,blueeyes,broadshoulders,narrowhips.Helookedmorelikeayoungmanonthestagethanayoungmaninreallife,butthemomentheopenedhismouththatimpressionfaded.Hewasquitenaturalandunaffected,even,perhaps,alittlestupid.
Mrs.GoldlookedgratefullyatPamelaandsatdownnearher.
“Whatalovelyshadeofbrownyouare.Ifeelterriblyunderdone!”
“Onehastotakeafrightfullotoftroubletobrownevenly,”sighedMissLyall.
Shepausedaminuteandthenwenton:
“You’veonlyjustarrived,haven’tyou?”
“Yes.Lastnight.WecameontheVapod’Italiaboat.”
“HaveyoueverbeentoRhodesbefore?”
“No.Itislovely,isn’tit?”
Herhusbandsaid:
“Pityit’ssuchalongwaytocome.”
“Yes,ifitwereonlynearerEngland—”
InamuffledvoiceSarahsaid:
“Yes,butthenitwouldbeawful.Rowsandrowsofpeoplelaidoutlikefishonaslab.Bodieseverywhere!”
“That’strue,ofcourse,”saidDouglasGold.“It’sanuisancetheItalianexchangeissoabsolutelyruinousatpresent.”
“Itdoesmakeadifference,doesn’tit?”
Theconversationwasrunningonstrictlystereotypedlines.Itcouldhardlyhavebeencalledbrilliant.
Alittlewayalongthebeach,ValentineChantrystirredandsatup.Withonehandsheheldherbathingdressinpositionacrossherbreast.
Sheyawned,awideyetdelicatecat-likeyawn.Sheglancedcasuallydownthebeach.HereyesslantedpastMarjorieGold—andstayedthoughtfullyonthecrisp,goldenheadofDouglasGold.
Shemovedhershoulderssinuously.Shespokeandhervoicewasraisedalittlehigherthanitneedhavebeen.
“Tonydarling—isn’titdivine—thissun?Isimplymusthavebeenasunworshipperonce—don’tyouthinkso?”
Herhusbandgruntedsomethinginreplythatfailedtoreachtheothers.ValentineChantrywentoninthathigh,drawlingvoice.
“Justpullthattowelalittleflatter,willyou,darling?”
Shetookinfinitepainsintheresettlingofherbeautifulbody.DouglasGoldwaslookingnow.Hiseyeswerefranklyinterested.
Mrs.GoldchirpedhappilyinasubduedkeytoMissLyall.
“Whatabeautifulwoman!”
Pamela,asdelightedtogiveastoreceiveinformation,repliedinalowervoice:
“That’sValentineChantry—youknow,whousedtobeValentineDacres—sheisrathermarvellous,isn’tshe?He’ssimplycrazyabouther—won’tletheroutofhissight!”
Mrs.Goldlookedoncemorealongthebeach.Thenshesaid:
“Theseareallyislovely—soblue.Ithinkweoughttogoinnow,don’tyou,Douglas?”
HewasstillwatchingValentineChantryandtookaminuteortwotoanswer.Thenhesaid,ratherabsently:
“Goin?Oh,yes,rather,inaminute.”
MarjorieGoldgotupandstrolleddowntothewater’sedge.
ValentineChantryrolledoveralittleononeside.HereyeslookedalongatDouglasGold.Herscarletmouthcurvedfaintlyintoasmile.
TheneckofMr.DouglasGoldbecameslightlyred.
ValentineChantrysaid:
“Tonydarling—wouldyoumind?Iwantalittlepotoffacecream—it’suponthedressingtable.Imeanttobringitdown.Dogetitforme—there’sanangel.”
Thecommanderroseobediently.Hestalkedoffintothehotel.
MarjorieGoldplungedintothesea,callingout:
“It’slovely,Douglas—sowarm.Docome.”
PamelaLyallsaidtohim:
“Aren’tyougoingin?”
Heansweredvaguely:
“Oh!Iliketogetwellhottedupfirst.”
ValentineChantrystirred.Herheadwasliftedforamomentasthoughtorecallherhusband—buthewasjustpassinginsidethewallofthehotelgarden.
“Ilikemydipthelastthing,”explainedMr.Gold.
Mrs.Chantrysatupagain.Shepickedupaflaskofsunbathingoil.Shehadsomedifficultywithit—thescrewtopseemedtoresistherefforts.
Shespokeloudlyandpetulantly.
“Oh,dear—Ican’tgetthisthingundone!”
Shelookedtowardstheothergroup—
“Iwonder—”
Alwaysgallant,Poirotrosetohisfeet,butDouglasGoldhadtheadvantageofyouthandsuppleness.Hewasbyhersideinamoment.
“CanIdoitforyou?”
“Oh,thankyou—”Itwasthesweet,emptydrawlagain.
“Youarekind.I’msuchafoolatundoingthings—Ialwaysseemtoscrewthemthewrongway.Oh!you’vedoneit!Thankyoueversomuch—”
HerculePoirotsmiledtohimself.
Hegotupandwanderedalongthebeachintheoppositedirection.Hedidnotgoveryfarbuthisprogresswasleisurely.Ashewasonhiswayback,Mrs.Goldcameoutoftheseaandjoinedhim.Shehadbeenswimming.Herface,underasingularlyunbecomingbathingcap,wasradiant.
Shesaidbreathlessly,“Idolovethesea.Andit’ssowarmandlovelyhere.”
Shewas,heperceived,anenthusiasticbather.
Shesaid,“DouglasandIaresimplymadonbathing.Hecanstayinforhours.”
AndatthatHerculePoirot’seyesslidoverhershouldertothespotonthebeachwherethatenthusiasticbather,Mr.DouglasGold,wassittingtalkingtoValentineChantry.
Hiswifesaid:
“Ican’tthinkwhyhedoesn’tcome….”
Hervoiceheldakindofchildishbewilderment.
Poirot’seyesrestedthoughtfullyonValentineChantry.Hethoughtthatotherwomenintheirtimehadmadethatsameremark.
Besidehim,heheardMrs.Golddrawinherbreathsharply.
Shesaid—andhervoicewascold:
“She’ssupposedtobeveryattractive,Ibelieve.ButDouglasdoesn’tlikethattypeofwoman.”
HerculePoirotdidnotreply.
Mrs.Goldplungedintotheseaagain.
Sheswamawayfromtheshorewithslow,steadystrokes.Youcouldseethatshelovedthewater.
Poirotretracedhisstepstothegrouponthebeach.
IthadbeenaugmentedbythearrivalofoldGeneralBarnes,aveteranwhowasusuallyinthecompanyoftheyoung.HewassittingnowbetweenPamelaandSarah,andheandPamelawereengagedindishingupvariousscandalswithappropriateembellishments.
CommanderChantryhadreturnedfromhiserrand.HeandDouglasGoldweresittingoneithersideofValentine.
Valentinewassittingupverystraightbetweenthetwomenandtalking.Shetalkedeasilyandlightlyinhersweet,drawlingvoice,turningherheadtotakefirstonemanandthentheotherintheconversation.
Shewasjustfinishingananecdote.
“—andwhatdoyouthinkthefoolishmansaid?‘Itmayhavebeenonlyaminute,butI’drememberyouanywhere,Mum!’Didn’the,Tony?Andyouknow,Ithoughtitwassosweetofhim.Idothinkit’ssuchakindworld—Imean,everybodyissofrightfullykindtomealways—Idon’tknowwhy—theyjustare.ButIsaidtoTony—d’youremember,darling—‘Tony,ifyouwanttobeateeny-weenybitjealous,youcanbejealousofthatcommissionaire.’Becausehereallywastooadorable….”
TherewasapauseandDouglasGoldsaid:
“Goodfellows—someofthesecommissionaires.”
“Oh,yes—buthetooksuchtrouble—reallyanimmenseamountoftrouble—andseemedjustpleasedtobeabletohelpme.”
DouglasGoldsaid:
“Nothingoddaboutthat.Anyonewouldforyou,I’msure.”
Shecrieddelightedly:
“Howniceofyou!Tony,didyouhearthat?”
CommanderChantrygrunted.
Hiswifesighed:
“Tonynevermakesprettyspeeches—doyou,mylamb?”
Herwhitehandwithitslongrednailsruffleduphisdarkhead.
Hegaveherasuddensidelonglook.Shemurmured:
“Idon’treallyknowhowheputsupwithme.He’ssimplyfrightfullyclever—absolutelyfranticwithbrains—andIjustgoontalkingnonsensethewholetime,buthedoesn’tseemtomind.NobodymindswhatIdoorsay—everybodyspoilsme.I’msureit’sfrightfullybadforme.”
CommanderChantrysaidacrosshertotheotherman:
“Thatyourmissusinthesea?”
“Yes.Expectit’sabouttimeIjoinedher.”
Valentinemurmured:
“Butit’ssolovelyhereinthesun.Youmustn’tgointotheseayet.Tonydarling,Idon’tthinkIshallactuallybathetoday—notmyfirstday.Imightgetachillorsomething.Butwhydon’tyougoinnow,Tonydarling?Mr.—Mr.Goldwillstayandkeepmecompanywhileyou’rein.”
Chantrysaidrathergrimly:
“No,thanks.Shan’tgoinjustyet.Yourwifeseemstobewavingtoyou,Gold.”
Valentinesaid:
“Howwellyourwifeswims.I’msureshe’soneofthoseterriblyefficientwomenwhodoeverythingwell.TheyalwaysfrightenmesobecauseIfeeltheydespiseme.I’msofrightfullybadateverything—anabsoluteduffer,aren’tI,Tonydarling?”
ButagainCommanderChantryonlygrunted.
Hiswifemurmuredaffectionately:
“You’retoosweettoadmitit.Menaresowonderfullyloyal—that’swhatIlikeaboutthem.Idothinkmenaresomuchmoreloyalthanwomen—andtheyneversaynastythings.Women,Ialwaysthink,areratherpetty.”
SarahBlakerolledoveronhersidetowardsPoirot.
Shemurmuredbetweenherteeth.
“Examplesofpettiness,tosuggestthatdearMrs.Chantryisinanywaynotabsoluteperfection!Whatacompleteidiotthewomanis!IreallydothinkValentineChantryisverynearlythemostidioticwomanIevermet.Shecan’tdoanythingbutsay,‘Tony,darling,’androllhereyes.Ishouldfancyshe’dgotcottonwoolpaddinginsteadofbrains.”
Poirotraisedhisexpressiveeyebrows.
“Unpeusévère!”
“Oh,yes.Putitdownaspure‘Cat,’ifyoulike.Shecertainlyhashermethods!Can’tsheleaveanymanalone?Herhusband’slookinglikethunder.”
Lookingouttosea,Poirotremarked:
“Mrs.Goldswimswell.”
“Yes,sheisn’tlikeuswhofinditanuisancetogetwet.IwonderifMrs.Chantrywillevergointotheseaatallwhileshe’southere.”
“Notshe,”saidGeneralBarneshuskily.“Shewon’triskthatmakeupofherscomingoff.Notthatsheisn’tafine-lookingwomanalthoughperhapsabitlonginthetooth.”
“She’slookingyourway,General,”saidSarahwickedly.“Andyou’rewrongaboutthemakeup.We’reallwaterproofandkissproofnowadays.”
“Mrs.Gold’scomingout,”announcedPamela.
“Herewegogatheringnutsandmay,”hummedSarah.“Herecomeshiswifetofetchhimaway—fetchhimaway—fetchhimaway….”
Mrs.Goldcamestraightupthebeach.Shehadquiteaprettyfigurebutherplain,waterproofcapwasrathertooserviceabletobeattractive.
“Aren’tyoucoming,Douglas?”shedemandedimpatiently.“Theseaislovelyandwarm.”
“Rather.”
DouglasGoldrosehastilytohisfeet.HepausedamomentandashedidsoValentineChantrylookedupathimwithasweetsmile.
“Aurevoir,”shesaid.
Goldandhiswifewentdownthebeach.
Assoonastheywereoutofearshot,Pamelasaidcritically:
“Idon’tthink,youknow,thatthatwaswise.Tosnatchyourhusbandawayfromanotherwomanisalwaysbadpolicy.Itmakesyouseemsopossessive.Andhusbandshatethat.”
“Youseemtoknowalotabouthusbands,MissPamela,”saidGeneralBarnes.
“Otherpeople’s—notmyown!”
“Ah!that’swherethedifferencecomesin.”
“Yes,butGeneral,IshallhavelearntalotofDoNots.”
“Well,darling,”saidSarah,“Ishouldn’twearacaplikethatforonething….”
“Seemsverysensibletome,”saidtheGeneral.“Seemsanice,sensiblelittlewomanaltogether.”
“You’vehititexactly,General,”saidSarah.“Butyouknowthere’salimittothesensiblenessofsensiblewomen.Ihaveafeelingshewon’tbesosensiblewhenit’sacaseofValentineChantry.”
Sheturnedherheadandexclaimedinalow,excitedwhisper:
“Lookathimnow.Justlikethunder.Thatmanlooksasthoughhehadgotthemostfrightfultemper….”
CommanderChantrywasindeedscowlingaftertheretreatinghusbandandwifeinasingularlyunpleasantfashion.
SarahlookedupatPoirot.
“Well?”shesaid.“Whatdoyoumakeofallthis?”
HerculePoirotdidnotreplyinwords,butonceagainhisforefingertracedadesigninthesand.Thesamedesign—atriangle.
“Theeternaltriangle,”musedSarah.“Perhapsyou’reright.Ifso,we’reinforanexcitingtimeinthenextfewweeks.”
Two
M.HerculePoirotwasdisappointedwithRhodes.HehadcometoRhodesforarestandforaholiday.Aholiday,especially,fromcrime.InlateOctober,sohehadbeentold,Rhodeswouldbenearlyempty.Apeaceful,secludedspot.
That,initself,wastrueenough.TheChantrys,theGolds,PamelaandSarah,theGeneralandhimselfandtwoItaliancouplesweretheonlyguests.ButwithinthatrestrictedcircletheintelligentbrainofM.Poirotperceivedtheinevitableshapingofeventstocome.
“ItisthatIamcriminal-minded,”hetoldhimselfreproachfully.“Ihavetheindigestion!Iimaginethings.”
Butstillheworried.
OnemorninghecamedowntofindMrs.Goldsittingontheterracedoingneedlework.
Ashecameuptoherhehadtheimpressionthattherewastheflickerofacambrichandkerchiefswiftlywhiskedoutofsight.
Mrs.Gold’seyesweredry,buttheyweresuspiciouslybright.Hermanner,too,struckhimasbeingashadetoocheerful.Thebrightnessofitwasashadeoverdone.
Shesaid:
“Goodmorning,M.Poirot,”withsuchenthusiasmastoarousehisdoubts.
Hefeltthatshecouldnotpossiblybequiteaspleasedtoseehimassheappearedtobe.Forshedidnot,afterall,knowhimverywell.AndthoughHerculePoirotwasaconceitedlittlemanwherehisprofessionwasconcerned,hewasquitemodestinhisestimateofhispersonalattractions.
“Goodmorning,madame,”heresponded.“Anotherbeautifulday.”
“Yes,isn’titfortunate?ButDouglasandIarealwaysluckyinourweather.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes.We’rereallyveryluckyaltogether.Youknow,M.Poirot,whenoneseessomuchtroubleandunhappiness,andsomanycouplesdivorcingeachotherandallthatsortofthing,well,onedoesfeelverygratefulforone’sownhappiness.”
“Itispleasanttohearyousayso,madame.”
“Yes.DouglasandIaresowonderfullyhappytogether.We’vebeenmarriedfiveyears,youknow,andafterall,fiveyearsisquitealongtimenowadays—”
“Ihavenodoubtthatinsomecasesitcanseemaneternity,madame,”saidPoirotdryly.
“—butIreallybelievethatwe’rehappiernowthanwhenwewerefirstmarried.Yousee,we’resoabsolutelysuitedtoeachother.”
“That,ofcourse,iseverything.”
“That’swhyIfeelsosorryforpeoplewhoaren’thappy.”
“Youmean—”
“Oh!Iwasspeakinggenerally,M.Poirot.”
“Isee.Isee.”
Mrs.Goldpickedupastrandofsilk,heldittothelight,approvedofit,andwenton:
“Mrs.Chantry,forinstance—”
“Yes,Mrs.Chantry?”
“Idon’tthinkshe’satallanicewoman.”
“No.No,perhapsnot.”
“Infact,I’mquitesureshe’snotanicewoman.Butinawayonefeelssorryforher.Becauseinspiteofhermoneyandhergoodlooksandallthat”—Mrs.Gold’sfingersweretremblingandshewasquiteunabletothreadherneedle—“she’snotthesortofwomanmenreallystickto.She’sthesortofwoman,Ithink,thatmenwouldgettiredofveryeasily.Don’tyouthinkso?”
“Imyselfshouldcertainlygettiredofherconversationbeforeanygreatspaceoftimehadpassed,”saidPoirotcautiously.
“Yes,that’swhatImean.Shehas,ofcourse,akindofappeal…”Mrs.Goldhesitated,herlipstrembled,shestabbeduncertainlyatherwork.AlessacuteobserverthanHerculePoirotcouldnothavefailedtonoticeherdistress.Shewentoninconsequently:
“Menarejustlikechildren!Theybelieveanything….”
Shebentoverherwork.Thetinywispofcambriccameoutagainunobtrusively.
PerhapsHerculePoirotthoughtitwelltochangethesubject.
Hesaid:
“Youdonotbathethismorning?Andmonsieuryourhusband,ishedownonthebeach?”
Mrs.Goldlookedup,blinked,resumedheralmostdefiantlybrightmannerandreplied:
“No,notthismorning.Wearrangedtogoroundthewallsoftheoldcity.Butsomehoworotherwe—wemissedeachother.Theystartedwithoutme.”
Thepronounwasrevealing,butbeforePoirotcouldsayanything,GeneralBarnescameupfromthebeachbelowanddroppedintoachairbesidethem.
“Goodmorning,Mrs.Gold.Goodmorning,Poirot.Bothdesertersthismorning?Alotofabsentees.Youtwo,andyourhusband,Mrs.Gold—andMrs.Chantry.”
“AndCommanderChantry?”inquiredPoirotcasually.
“Oh,no,he’sdownthere.MissPamela’sgothiminhand.”TheGeneralchuckled.“She’sfindinghimalittlebitdifficult!Oneofthestrong,silentmenyouhearaboutinbooks.”
MarjorieGoldsaidwithalittleshiver:
“Hefrightensmealittle,thatman.He—helookssoblacksometimes.Asthoughhemightdo—anything!”
Sheshivered.
“Justindigestion,Iexpect,”saidtheGeneralcheerfully.“Dyspepsiaisresponsibleformanyareputationforromanticmelancholyorungovernablerages.”
MarjorieGoldsmiledapolitelittlesmile.
“Andwhere’syourgoodman?”inquiredtheGeneral.
Herreplycamewithouthesitation—inanatural,cheerfulvoice.
“Douglas?Oh,heandMrs.Chantryhavegoneintothetown.Ibelievethey’vegonetohavealookatthewallsoftheoldcity.”
“Ha,yes—veryinteresting.Timeoftheknightsandallthat.Yououghttohavegonetoo,littlelady.”
Mrs.Goldsaid:
“I’mafraidIcamedownratherlate.”
Shegotupsuddenlywithamurmuredexcuseandwentintothehotel.
GeneralBarneslookedafterherwithaconcernedexpression,shakinghisheadgently.
“Nicelittlewoman,that.Worthadozenpaintedtrollopslikesomeonewhosenamewewon’tmention!Ha!Husband’safool!Doesn’tknowwhenhe’swell-off.”
Heshookhisheadagain.Then,rising,hewentindoors.
SarahBlakehadjustcomeupfromthebeachandhadheardtheGeneral’slastspeech.
Makingafaceatthedepartingwarrior’sback,sheremarkedassheflungherselfintoachair:
“Nicelittlewoman—nicelittlewoman!Menalwaysapproveofdowdywomen—butwhenitcomestobrasstacksthedress-uptrollopswinhandsdown!Sad,butthereitis.”
“Mademoiselle,”saidPoirot,andhisvoicewasabrupt.“Idonotlikeallthis!”
“Don’tyou?NordoI.No,let’sbehonest,IsupposeIdolikeitreally.Thereisahorridsideofonethatenjoysaccidentsandpubliccalamitiesandunpleasantthingsthathappentoone’sfriends.”
Poirotasked:
“WhereisCommanderChantry?”
“OnthebeachbeingdissectedbyPamela(she’senjoyingherselfifyoulike!)andnotbeingimprovedintemperbytheproceeding.HewaslookinglikeathundercloudwhenIcameup.Therearesquallsahead,believeme.”
Poirotmurmured:
“ThereissomethingIdonotunderstand—”
“It’snoteasytounderstand,”saidSarah.“Butwhat’sgoingtohappenthat’sthequestion.”
Poirotshookhisheadandmurmured:
“Asyousay,mademoiselle—itisthefuturethatcausesoneinquietude.”
“Whatanicewayofputtingit,”saidSarahandwentintothehotel.
InthedoorwayshealmostcollidedwithDouglasGold.Theyoungmancameoutlookingratherpleasedwithhimselfbutatthesametimeslightlyguilty.Hesaid:
“Hallo,M.Poirot,”andaddedratherself-consciously,“BeenshowingMrs.ChantrytheCrusaders’walls.Marjoriedidn’tfeeluptogoing.”
Poirot’seyebrowsroseslightly,butevenhadhewishedhewouldhavehadnotimetomakeacommentforValentineChantrycamesweepingout,cryinginherhighvoice:
“Douglas—apinkgin—positivelyImusthaveapinkgin.”
DouglasGoldwentofftoorderthedrink.ValentinesankintoachairbyPoirot.Shewaslookingradiantthismorning
ShesawherhusbandandPamelacominguptowardsthemandwavedahand,cryingout:
“Haveanicebathe,Tonydarling?Isn’titadivinemorning?”
CommanderChantrydidnotanswer.Heswungupthesteps,passedherwithoutawordoralookandvanishedintothebar.
Hishandswereclenchedbyhissidesandthatfaintlikenesstoagorillawasaccentuated.
ValentineChantry’sperfectbutratherfoolishmouthfellopen.
Shesaid,“Oh,”ratherblankly.
PamelaLyall’sfaceexpressedkeenenjoymentofthesituation.MaskingitasfaraswaspossibletooneofheringenuousdispositionshesatdownbyValentineChantryandinquired:
“Haveyouhadanicemorning?”
AsValentinebegan,“Simplymarvellous.We—”Poirotgotupandinhisturnstrolledgentlytowardsthebar.HefoundyoungGoldwaitingforthepinkginwithaflushedface.Helookeddisturbedandangry.
HesaidtoPoirot,“Thatman’sabrute!”AndhenoddedhisheadinthedirectionoftheretreatingfigureofCommanderChantry.
“Itispossible,”saidPoirot.“Yes,itisquitepossible.Butlesfemmes,theylikebrutes,rememberthat!”
Douglasmuttered:
“Ishouldn’tbesurprisedifheill-treatsher!”
“Sheprobablylikesthattoo.”
DouglasGoldlookedathiminapuzzledway,tookupthepinkginandwentoutwithit.
HerculePoirotsatonastoolandorderedasiropdecassis.Whilsthewassippingitwithlongsighsofenjoyment,Chantrycameinanddrankseveralpinkginsinrapidsuccession.
HesaidsuddenlyandviolentlytotheworldatlargeratherthantoPoirot:
“IfValentinethinksshecangetridofmelikeshe’sgotridofalotofotherdamnedfools,she’smistaken!I’vegotherandImeantokeepher.Nootherfellow’sgoingtogetherexceptovermydeadbody.”
Heflungdownsomemoney,turnedonhisheelandwentout.
Three
ItwasthreedayslaterthatHerculePoirotwenttotheMountoftheProphet.Itwasacool,agreeabledrivethroughthegoldengreenfirtrees,windinghigherandhigher,farabovethepettywranglingandsquabblingofhumanbeings.Thecarstoppedattherestaurant.Poirotgotoutandwanderedintothewoods.Hecameoutatlastonaspotthatseemedtrulyontopoftheworld.Farbelow,deeplyanddazzlinglyblue,wasthesea.
Hereatlasthewasatpeace—removedfromcares—abovetheworld.Carefullyplacinghisfoldedovercoatonatreestump,HerculePoirotsatdown.
“DoubtlesslebonDieuknowswhathedoes.Butitisoddthatheshouldhavepermittedhimselftofashioncertainhumanbeings.Ehbien,hereforawhileatleastIamawayfromthesevexingproblems.”Thushemused.
Helookedupwithastart.Alittlewomaninabrowncoatandskirtwashurryingtowardshim.ItwasMarjorieGoldandthistimeshehadabandonedallpretence.Herfacewaswetwithtears.
Poirotcouldnotescape.Shewasuponhim.
“M.Poirot.You’vegottohelpme.I’msomiserableIdon’tknowwhattodo!Oh,whatshallIdo?WhatshallIdo?”
Shelookedupathimwithadistractedface.Herfingersfastenedonhiscoatsleeve.Then,assomethingshesawinhisfacealarmedher,shedrewbackalittle.
“What—whatisit?”shefaltered.
“Youwantmyadvice,madame?Itisthatyouask?”
Shestammered,“Yes…Yes….”
“Ehbien—hereitis.”Hespokecurtly—trenchantly.“Leavethisplaceatonce—beforeitistoolate.”
“What?”Shestaredathim.
“Youheardme.Leavethisisland.”
“Leavetheisland?”
Shestaredathimstupefied.
“ThatiswhatIsay.”
“Butwhy—why?”
“Itismyadvicetoyou—ifyouvalueyourlife.”
Shegaveagasp.
“Oh!whatdoyoumean?You’refrighteningme—you’refrighteningme.”
“Yes,”saidPoirotgravely,“thatismyintention.”
Shesankdown,herfaceinherhands.
“ButIcan’t!Hewouldn’tcome!Douglaswouldn’t,Imean.Shewouldn’tlethim.She’sgotholdofhim—bodyandsoul.Hewon’tlistentoanythingagainsther…He’scrazyabouther…Hebelieveseverythingshetellshim—thatherhusbandill-treatsher—thatshe’saninjuredinnocent—thatnobodyhaseverunderstoodher…Hedoesn’teventhinkaboutmeanymore—Idon’tcount—I’mnotrealtohim.Hewantsmetogivehimhisfreedom—todivorcehim.Hebelievesthatshe’lldivorceherhusbandandmarryhim.ButI’mafraid…Chantrywon’tgiveherup.He’snotthatkindofman.LastnightsheshowedDouglasbruisesonherarm—saidherhusbandhaddoneit.ItmadeDouglaswild.He’ssochivalrous…Oh!I’mafraid!Whatwillcomeofitall?Tellmewhattodo!”
HerculePoirotstoodlookingstraightacrossthewatertothebluelineofhillsonthemainlandofAsia.Hesaid:
“Ihavetoldyou.Leavetheislandbeforeitistoolate….”
Sheshookherhead.
“Ican’t—Ican’t—unlessDouglas…”
Poirotsighed.
Heshruggedhisshoulders.
Four
HerculePoirotsatwithPamelaLyallonthebeach.
Shesaidwithacertainamountofgusto,“Thetriangle’sgoingstrong!Theysatoneeachsideofherlastnight—gloweringateachother!Chantryhadhadtoomuchtodrink.HewaspositivelyinsultingtoDouglasGold.Goldbehavedverywell.Kepthistemper.TheValentinewomanenjoyedit,ofcourse.Purredliketheman-eatingtigersheis.Whatdoyouthinkwillhappen?”
Poirotshookhishead.
“Iamafraid.Iamverymuchafraid….”
“Oh,weallare,”saidMissLyallhypocritically.Sheadded,“Thisbusinessisratherinyourline.Oritmaycometobe.Can’tyoudoanything?”
“IhavedonewhatIcould.”
MissLyallleanedforwardeagerly.
“Whathaveyoudone?”sheaskedwithpleasurableexcitement.
“IadvisedMrs.Goldtoleavetheislandbeforeitwastoolate.”
“Oo-er—soyouthink—”shestopped.
“Yes,mademoiselle?”
“Sothat’swhatyouthinkisgoingtohappen!”saidPamelaslowly.“Buthecouldn’t—he’dneverdoathinglikethat…He’ssonicereally.It’sallthatChantrywoman.Hewouldn’t—Hewouldn’t—do—”
Shestopped—thenshesaidsoftly:
“Murder?Isthat—isthatreallythewordthat’sinyourmind?”
“Itisinsomeone’smind,mademoiselle.Iwilltellyouthat.”
Pamelagaveasuddenshiver.
“Idon’tbelieveit,”shedeclared.
Five
ThesequenceofeventsonthenightofOctoberthetwenty-ninthwasperfectlyclear.
Tobeginwith,therewasascenebetweenthetwomen—GoldandChantry.Chantry’svoiceroselouderandlouderandhislastwordswereoverheardbyfourpersons—thecashieratthedesk,themanager,GeneralBarnesandPamelaLyall.
“Yougoddamnedswine!Ifyouandmywifethinkyoucanputthisoveronme,you’remistaken!AslongasI’malive,Valentinewillremainmywife.”
Thenhehadflungoutofthehotel,hisfacelividwithrage.
Thatwasbeforedinner.Afterdinner(howarrangednooneknew)areconciliationtookplace.ValentineaskedMarjorieGoldtocomeoutforamoonlightdrive.PamelaandSarahwentwiththem.GoldandChantryplayedbilliardstogether.AfterwardstheyjoinedHerculePoirotandGeneralBarnesinthelounge.
Forthefirsttimealmost,Chantry’sfacewassmilingandgood-tempered.
“Haveagoodgame?”askedtheGeneral
TheCommandersaid:
“Thisfellow’stoogoodforme!Ranoutwithabreakofforty-six.”
DouglasGolddeprecatedthismodestly.
“Purefluke.Iassureyouitwas.What’llyouhave?I’llgoandgetholdofawaiter.”
“Pinkginforme,thanks.”
“Right.General?”
“Thanks.I’llhaveawhiskyandsoda.”
“Sameforme.Whataboutyou,M.Poirot?”
“Youaremostamiable.Ishouldlikeasiropdecassis.”
“Asirop—excuseme?”
“Siropdecassis.Thesyrupofblackcurrants.”
“Oh,aliqueur!Isee.Isupposetheyhaveithere?Ineverheardofit.”
“Theyhaveit,yes.Butitisnotaliqueur.”
DouglasGoldsaid,laughing:
“Soundsafunnytastetome—buteverymanhisownpoison!I’llgoandorderthem.”
CommanderChantrysatdown.Thoughnotbynatureatalkativeorasocialman,hewasclearlydoinghisbesttobegenial.
“Oddhowonegetsusedtodoingwithoutanynews,”heremarked.
TheGeneralgrunted.
“Can’tsaytheContinentalDailyMailfourdaysoldismuchusetome.OfcourseIgetTheTimessenttomeandPuncheveryweek,butthey’readevilishlongtimeincoming.”
“Wonderifwe’llhaveageneralelectionoverthisPalestinebusiness?”
“Wholething’sbeenbadlymismanaged,”declaredtheGeneraljustasDouglasGoldreappearedfollowedbyawaiterwiththedrinks.
TheGeneralhadjustbegunonananecdoteofhismilitarycareerinIndiaintheyear1905.ThetwoEnglishmenwerelisteningpolitely,ifwithoutgreatinterest.HerculePoirotwassippinghissiropdecassis.
TheGeneralreachedthepointofhisnarrativeandtherewasdutifullaughterallround.
Thenthewomenappearedatthedoorwayofthelounge.Theyallfourseemedinthebestofspiritsandweretalkingandlaughing.
“Tony,darling,itwastoodivine,”criedValentineasshedroppedintoachairbyhisside.“ThemostmarvellousideaofMrs.Gold’s.Youalloughttohavecome!”
Herhusbandsaid:
“Whataboutadrink?”
Helookedinquiringlyattheothers.
“Pinkginforme,darling,”saidValentine.
“Ginandgingerbeer,”saidPamela.
“Sidecar,”saidSarah.
“Right.”Chantrystoodup.Hepushedhisownuntouchedpinkginovertohiswife.“Youhavethis.I’llorderanotherformyself.What’syours,Mrs.Gold?”
Mrs.Goldwasbeinghelpedoutofhercoatbyherhusband.Sheturnedsmiling:
“CanIhaveanorangeade,please?”
“Rightyouare.Orangeade.”
Hewenttowardsthedoor.Mrs.Goldsmiledupinherhusband’sface.
“Itwassolovely,Douglas.Iwishyouhadcome.”
“IwishIhadtoo.We’llgoanothernight,shallwe?”Theysmiledateachother.
ValentineChantrypickedupthepinkginanddrainedit.
“Oo!Ineededthat,”shesighed.
DouglasGoldtookMarjorie’scoatandlaiditonasettee.
Ashestrolledbacktotheothershesaidsharply:
“Hallo,what’sthematter?”
ValentineChantrywasleaningbackinherchair.Herlipswereblueandherhandhadgonetoherheart.
“Ifeel—ratherqueer….”
Shegasped,fightingforbreath.
Chantrycamebackintotheroom.Hequickenedhisstep.
“Hallo,Val,what’sthematter?”
“I—Idon’tknow…Thatdrink—ittastedqueer….”
“Thepinkgin?”
Chantryswungroundhisfaceworked.HecaughtDouglasGoldbytheshoulder.
“Thatwasmydrink…Gold,whatthehelldidyouputinit?”
DouglasGoldwasstaringattheconvulsedfaceofthewomaninthechair.Hehadgonedeadwhite.
“I—I—never—”
ValentineChantryslippeddowninherchair.
GeneralBarnescriedout:
“Getadoctor—quick….”
FiveminuteslaterValentineChantrydied….
Six
Therewasnobathingthenextmorning.
PamelaLyall,white-faced,cladinasimpledarkdress,clutchedatHerculePoirotinthehallanddrewhimintothelittlewritingroom.
“It’shorrible!”shesaid.“Horrible!Yousaidso!Youforesawit!Murder!”
Hebenthisheadgravely.
“Oh!”shecriedout.Shestampedherfootonthefloor.“Youshouldhavestoppedit!Somehow!Itcouldhavebeenstopped!”
“How?”askedHerculePoirot.
Thatbroughtherupshortforthemoment.
“Couldn’tyougotosomeone—tothepolice—?”
“Andsaywhat?Whatistheretosay—beforetheevent?Thatsomeonehasmurderintheirheart?Itellyou,monenfant,ifonehumanbeingisdeterminedtokillanotherhumanbeing—”
“Youcouldwarnthevictim,”insistedPamela.
“Sometimes,”saidHerculePoirot,“warningsareuseless.”
Pamelasaidslowly,“Youcouldwarnthemurderer—showhimthatyouknewwhatwasintended….”
Poirotnoddedappreciatively.
“Yes—abetterplan,that.Buteventhenyouhavetoreckonwithacriminal’schiefvice.”
“Whatisthat?”
“Conceit.Acriminalneverbelievesthathiscrimecanfail.”
“Butit’sabsurd—stupid,”criedPamela.“Thewholecrimewaschildish!Why,thepolicearrestedDouglasGoldatoncelastnight.”
“Yes.”Headdedthoughtfully,“DouglasGoldisaverystupidyoungman.”
“Incrediblystupid!Ihearthattheyfoundtherestofthepoison—whateveritwas—?”
“Aformofstropanthin.Aheartpoison.”
“Thattheyactuallyfoundtherestofitinhisdinnerjacketpocket?”
“Quitetrue.”
“Incrediblystupid!”saidPamelaagain.“Perhapshemeanttogetridofit—andtheshockofthewrongpersonbeingpoisonedparalysedhim.Whatasceneitwouldmakeonthestage.Theloverputtingthestropanthininthehusband’sglassandthen,justwhenhisattentioniselsewhere,thewifedrinksitinstead…ThinkoftheghastlymomentwhenDouglasGoldturnedroundandrealizedhehadkilledthewomanheloved….”
Shegavealittleshiver.
“Yourtriangle.TheEternalTriangle!Whowouldhavethoughtitwouldendlikethis?”
“Iwasafraidofit,”murmuredPoirot
Pamelaturnedonhim.
“Youwarnedher—Mrs.Gold.Thenwhydidn’tyouwarnhimaswell?”
“Youmean,whydidn’tIwarnDouglasGold?”
“No.ImeanCommanderChantry.Youcouldhavetoldhimthathewasindanger—afterall,hewastherealobstacle!I’venodoubtDouglasGoldreliedonbeingabletobullyhiswifeintogivinghimadivorce—she’sameek-spiritedlittlewomanandterriblyfondofhim.ButChantryisamulishsortofdevil.HewasdeterminednottogiveValentineherfreedom.”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“ItwouldhavebeennogoodmyspeakingtoChantry,”hesaid.
“Perhapsnot,”Pamelaadmitted.“He’dprobablyhavesaidhecouldlookafterhimselfandtoldyoutogotothedevil.ButIdofeelthereoughttohavebeensomethingonecouldhavedone.”
“Ididthink,”saidPoirotslowly,“oftryingtopersuadeValentineChantrytoleavetheisland,butshewouldnothavebelievedwhatIhadtotellher.Shewasfartoostupidawomantotakeinathinglikethat.Pauvrefemme,herstupiditykilledher.”
“Idon’tbelieveitwouldhavebeenanygoodifshehadlefttheisland,”saidPamela.“Hewouldsimplyhavefollowedher.”
“He?”
“DouglasGold.”
“YouthinkDouglasGoldwouldhavefollowedher?Oh,no,mademoiselle,youarewrong—youarecompletelywrong.Youhavenotyetappreciatedthetruthofthismatter.IfValentineChantryhadlefttheisland,herhusbandwouldhavegonewithher.”
Pamelalookedpuzzled.
“Well,naturally.”
“Andthen,yousee,thecrimewouldsimplyhavetakenplacesomewhereelse.”
“Idon’tunderstandyou?”
“Iamsayingtoyouthatthesamecrimewouldhaveoccurredsomewhereelse—thatcrimebeingthemurderofValentineChantrybyherhusband.”
Pamelastared.
“AreyoutryingtosaythatitwasCommanderChantry—TonyChantry—whomurderedValentine?”
“Yes.Yousawhimdoit!DouglasGoldbroughthimhisdrink.Hesatwithitinfrontofhim.Whenthewomencameinwealllookedacrosstheroom,hehadthestropanthinready,hedroppeditintothepinkginandpresently,courteously,hepasseditalongtohiswifeandshedrankit.”
“ButthepacketofstropanthinwasfoundinDouglasGold’spocket!”
“Averysimplemattertoslipittherewhenwewereallcrowdingroundthedyingwoman.”
ItwasquitetwominutesbeforePamelagotherbreath.
“ButIdon’tunderstandaword!Thetriangle—yousaidyourself—”
HerculePoirotnoddedhisheadvigorously.
“Isaidtherewasatriangle—yes.Butyou,youimaginedthewrongone.Youweredeceivedbysomeverycleveracting!Youthought,asyouweremeanttothink,thatbothTonyChantryandDouglasGoldwereinlovewithValentineChantry.Youbelieved,asyouweremeanttobelieve,thatDouglasGold,beinginlovewithValentineChantry(whosehusbandrefusedtodivorceher)tookthedesperatestepofadministeringapowerfulheartpoisontoChantryandthat,byafatalmistake,ValentineChantrydrankthatpoisoninstead.Allthatisillusion.Chantryhasbeenmeaningtodoawaywithhiswifeforsometime.Hewasboredtodeathwithher,Icouldseethatfromthefirst.Hemarriedherforhermoney.Nowhewantstomarryanotherwoman—soheplannedtogetridofValentineandkeephermoney.Thatentailedmurder.”
“Anotherwoman?”
Poirotsaidslowly:
“Yes,yes—thelittleMarjorieGold.Itwastheeternaltriangleallright!Butyousawitthewrongwayround.NeitherofthosetwomencaredintheleastforValentineChantry.ItwashervanityandMarjorieGold’sverycleverstagemanagingthatmadeyouthinktheydid!Averycleverwoman,Mrs.Gold,andamazinglyattractiveinherdemureMadonna,poor-little-thing-way!Ihaveknownfourwomencriminalsofthesametype.TherewasMrs.Adamswhowasacquittedofmurderingherhusband,buteverybodyknowsshedidit.MaryParkerdidawaywithanaunt,asweetheartandtwobrothersbeforeshegotalittlecarelessandwascaught.ThentherewasMrs.Rowden,shewashangedallright.Mrs.Lecrayescapedbytheskinofherteeth.Thiswomanisexactlythesametype.IrecognizeditassoonasIsawher!Thattypetakestocrimelikeaducktowater!Andaveryprettybitofwell-plannedworkitwas.Tellme,whatevidencedidyoueverhavethatDouglasGoldwasinlovewithValentineChantry?Whenyoucometothinkitout,youwillrealizethattherewasonlyMrs.Gold’sconfidencesandChantry’sjealousbluster.Yes?Yousee?”
“It’shorrible,”criedPamela.
“Theywereacleverpair,”saidPoirotwithprofessionaldetachment.“Theyplannedto‘meet’hereandstagetheircrime.ThatMarjorieGold,sheisacold-bloodeddevil!Shewouldhavesentherpoor,innocentfoolofahusbandtothescaffoldwithouttheleastremorse.”
Pamelacriedout:
“Buthewasarrestedandtakenawaybythepolicelastnight.”
“Ah,”saidHerculePoirot,“butafterthat,me,Ihadafewlittlewordswiththepolice.ItistruethatIdidnotseeChantryputthestropanthinintheglass.I,likeeveryoneelse,lookedupwhentheladiescamein.ButthemomentIrealizedthatValentineChantryhadbeenpoisoned,Iwatchedherhusbandwithouttakingmyeyesoffhim.Andso,yousee,IactuallysawhimslipthepacketofstropanthininDouglasGold’scoatpocket….”
Headdedwithagrimexpressiononhisface:
“Iamagoodwitness.Mynameiswell-known.Themomentthepoliceheardmystorytheyrealizedthatitputanentirelydifferentcomplexiononthematter.”
“Andthen?”demandedPamela,fascinated.
“Ehbien,thentheyaskedCommanderChantryafewquestions.Hetriedtoblusteritout,butheisnotreallyclever,hesoonbrokedown.”
“SoDouglasGoldwassetatliberty?”
“Yes.”
“And—MarjorieGold?”
Poirot’sfacegrewstern.
“Iwarnedher,”hesaid.“Yes,Iwarnedher…UpontheMountoftheProphet…Itwastheonlychanceofavertingthecrime.IasgoodastoldherthatIsuspectedher.Sheunderstood.Butshebelievedherselftooclever…Itoldhertoleavetheislandifshevaluedherlife.Shechose—toremain….”
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.
Visitwww.AuthorTracker.comforexclusiveinformationonyourfavoriteHarperCollinsauthors.
www.AgathaChristie.com
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.
ThistitlewaspreviouslypublishedasDeadMan’sMirror.
AGATHACHRISTIE?POIROT?MURDERINTHEMEWS?.Copyright?1937AgathaChristieLimited(aChorioncompany).Allrightsreserved.
MURDERINTHEMEWS?1937.PublishedbypermissionofG.P.Putnam’sSons,amemberofPenguinGroup(USA)Inc.AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypaymentoftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenonexclusive,nontransferablerighttoaccessandreadthetextofthisebookon-screen.Nopartofthistextmaybereproduced,transmitted,downloaded,decompiled,reverse-engineered,orstoredinorintroducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,nowknownorhereinafterinvented,withouttheexpresswrittenpermission