TheLaborsofHercules
AHerculePoirotCollection
Dedication
ToEdmundCorkofwhoselaboursonbehalfofHerculePoirotIamdeeplyappreciativethisbookisaffectionatelydedicated
Contents
Cover
Dedication
Foreword
1TheNemeanLion
2TheLerneanHydra
3TheArcadianDeer
4TheErymanthianBoar
5TheAugeanStables
6TheStymphaleanBirds
7TheCretanBull
8TheHorsesofDiomedes
9TheGirdleofHyppolita
10TheFlockofGeryon
11TheApplesoftheHesperides
12TheCaptureofCerberus
AbouttheAuthor
OtherWorks
CopyrightForeword
HerculePoirot’sflatwasessentiallymoderninitsfurnishings.Itgleamedwithchromium.Itseasychairs,thoughcomfortablypadded,weresquareanduncompromisinginoutline.
OnoneofthesechairssatHerculePoirot,neatly—inthemiddleofthechair.Oppositehim,inanotherchair,satDr.Burton,FellowofAllSouls,sippingappreciativelyataglassofPoirot’sChateauMoutonRothschild.TherewasnoneatnessaboutDr.Burton.Hewasplump,untidy,andbeneathhisthatchofwhitehairbeamedarubicundandbenign
Dr.Burtonwasaskingaquestion.
“Tellme,”hesaid.“WhyHercule?”
“Youmean,myChristianname?”
“HardlyaChristianname,”theotherdemurred.“Definitelypagan.Butwhy?That’swhatIwanttoknow.Father’sfancy?Mother’swhim?Familyreasons?IfIrememberrightly—thoughmymemoryisn’twhatitwas—youhadabrothercalledAchille,didyounot?”
Poirot’smindracedbackoverthedetailsofAchillePoirot’scareer.Hadallthatreallyhappened?
“Onlyforashortspaceoftime,”hereplied.
Dr.BurtonpassedtactfullyfromthesubjectofAchillePoirot.
“Peopleshouldbemorecarefulhowtheynametheirchildren,”heruminated.“I’vegotgodchildren.Iknow.Blanche,oneof’emiscalled—darkasagypsy!Thenthere’sDeirdre,DeirdreoftheSorrows—she’sturnedoutmerryasagrig.AsforyoungPatience,shemightaswellhavebeennamedImpatienceandbedonewithit!AndDiana—well,Diana—”theoldclassicalscholarshuddered.“Weighstwelvestonenow—andshe’sonlyfifteen!Theysayit’spuppyfat—butitdoesn’tlookthatwaytome.Diana!TheywantedtocallherHelen,butIdidputmyfootdownthere.Knowingwhatherfatherandmotherlookedlike!Andhergrandmotherforthatmatter!ItriedhardforMarthaorDorcasorsomethingsensible—butitwasnogood—wasteofbreath.Rumpeople,parents….”
Hebegantowheezegently—hissmallfatfacecrinkledup.
Poirotlookedathiminquiringly.
“Thinkingofanimaginaryconversation.YourmotherandthelateMrs.Holmes,sittingsewinglittlegarmentsorknitting:‘Achille,Hercule,Sherlock,Mycroft….’”
Poirotfailedtosharehisfriend’samusement.
“WhatIunderstandyoutomeanis,thatinphysicalappearanceIdonotresembleaHercules?”
Dr.Burton’seyessweptoverHerculePoirot,overhissmallneatpersonattiredinstripedtrousers,correctblackjacketandnattybowtie,sweptupfromhispatentleathershoestohisegg-shapedheadandtheimmensemoustachethatadornedhisupperlip.
“Frankly,Poirot,”saidDr.Burton,“youdon’t!Igather,”headded,“thatyou’veneverhadmuchtimetostudytheClassics?”
“Thatisso.”
“Pity.Pity.You’vemissedalot.EveryoneshouldbemadetostudytheClassicsifIhadmyway.”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Ehbien,Ihavegotonverywellwithoutthem.”
“Goton!Goton!It’snotaquestionofgettingon.That’sthewrongviewaltogether.TheClassicsaren’taladderleadingtoquicksuccesslikeamoderncorrespondencecourse!It’snotaman’sworkinghoursthatareimportant—it’shisleisurehours.That’sthemistakeweallmake.Takeyourselfnow,you’regettingon,you’llbewantingtogetoutofthings,totakethingseasy—whatareyougoingtodothenwithyourleisurehours?”
Poirotwasreadywithhisreply.
“Iamgoingtoattend—seriously—tothecultivationofvegetablemarrows.”
Dr.Burtonwastakenaback.
“Vegetablemarrows?Whatd’yermean?Thosegreatswollengreenthingsthattasteofwater?”
“Ah,”Poirotspokeenthusiastically.“Butthatisthewholepointofit.Theyneednottasteofwater.”
“Oh!Iknow—sprinkle’emwithcheese,ormincedonionorwhitesauce.”
“No,no—youareinerror.Itismyideathattheactualflavourofthemarrowitselfcanbeimproved.Itcanbegiven,”hescreweduphiseyes,“abouquet—”
“GoodGod,man,it’snotaclaret.”ThewordbouquetremindedDr.Burtonoftheglassathiselbow.Hesippedandsavoured.“Verygoodwine,this.Verysound.Yes.”Hisheadnoddedinapprobation.“Butthisvegetablemarrowbusiness—you’renotserious?Youdon’tmean”—hespokeinlivelyhorror—“thatyou’reactuallygoingtostoop”—hishandsdescendedinsympathetichorroronhisownplumpstomach—“stoop,andforkdungonthethings,andfeed’emwithstrandsofwooldippedinwaterandalltherestofit?”
“Youseem,”Poirotsaid,“tobewellacquaintedwiththecultureofthemarrow?”
“SeengardenersdoingitwhenI’vebeenstayinginthecountry.Butseriously,Poirot,whatahobby!Comparethatto”—hisvoicesanktoanappreciativepurr—“aneasychairinfrontofawoodfireinalong,lowroomlinedwithbooks—mustbealongroom—notasquareone.Booksallroundone.Aglassofport—andabookopeninyourhand.Timerollsbackasyouread:”hequotedsonorously:
Hetranslated:
“‘Byskillagain,thepilotonthewine-darkseastraightens
Theswiftshipbuffetedbythewinds.’
Ofcourseyoucanneverreallygetthespiritoftheoriginal.”
Forthemoment,inhisenthusiasm,hehadforgottenPoirot.AndPoirot,watchinghim,feltsuddenlyadoubt—anuncomfortabletwinge.Wasthere,here,somethingthathehadmissed?Somerichnessofthespirit?Sadnesscreptoverhim.Yes,heshouldhavebecomeacquaintedwiththeClassics…Longago…Now,alas,itwastoolate….
Dr.Burtoninterruptedhismelancholy.
“Doyoumeanthatyoureallyarethinkingofretiring?”
“Yes.”
Theotherchuckled.
“Youwon’t!”
“ButIassureyou—”
“Youwon’tbeabletodoit,man.You’retoointerestedinyourwork.”
“No—indeed—Imakeallthearrangements.Afewmorecases—speciallyselectedones—not,youunderstand,everythingthatpresentsitself—justproblemsthathaveapersonalappeal.”
Dr.Burtongrinned.
“That’sthewayofit.Justacaseortwo,justonecasemore—andsoon.ThePrimaDonna’sfarewellperformancewon’tbeinitwithyours,Poirot!”
Hechuckledandroseslowlytohisfeet,anamiablewhite-hairedgnome.
“Yoursaren’ttheLaborsofHercules,”hesaid.“Yoursarelaborsoflove.You’llseeifI’mnotright.Betyouthatintwelvemonths’timeyou’llstillbehere,andvegetablemarrowswillstillbe”—heshuddered—“merelymarrows.”
Takingleaveofhishost,Dr.Burtonleftthesevererectangularroom.
Hepassesoutofthesepagesnottoreturntothem.Weareconcernedonlywithwhatheleftbehindhim,whichwasanIdea.
ForafterhisdepartureHerculePoirotsatdownagainslowlylikeamaninadreamandmurmured:
“TheLaborsofHercules…Maisoui,c’estuneidée,?a….”
???
ThefollowingdaysawHerculePoirotperusingalargecalf-boundvolumeandotherslimmerworks,withoccasionalharriedglancesatvarioustypewrittenslipsofpaper.
Hissecretary,MissLemon,hadbeendetailedtocollectinformationonthesubjectofHerculesandtoplacesamebeforehim.
Withoutinterest(hersnotthetypetowonderwhy!)butwithperfectefficiency,MissLemonhadfulfilledhertask.
HerculePoirotwasplungedheadfirstintoabewilderingseaofclassicallorewithparticularreferenceto“Hercules,acelebratedherowho,afterdeath,wasrankedamongthegods,andreceiveddivinehonours.”
Sofar,sogood—butthereafteritwasfarfromplainsailing.FortwohoursPoirotreaddiligently,makingnotes,frowning,consultinghisslipsofpaperandhisotherbooksofreference.Finallyhesankbackinhischairandshookhishead.Hismoodofthepreviouseveningwasdispelled.Whatpeople!
TakethisHercules—thishero!Hero,indeed!Whatwashebutalargemuscularcreatureoflowintelligenceandcriminaltendencies!PoirotwasremindedofoneAdolfeDurand,abutcher,whohadbeentriedatLyonin1895—acreatureofoxlikestrengthwhohadkilledseveralchildren.Thedefencehadbeenepilepsy—fromwhichheundoubtedlysuffered—thoughwhethergrandmalorpetitmalhadbeenanargumentofseveraldays’discussion.ThisancientHerculesprobablysufferedfromgrandmal.No,Poirotshookhishead,ifthatwastheGreeks’ideaofahero,thenmeasuredbymodernstandardsitcertainlywouldnotdo.Thewholeclassicalpatternshockedhim.Thesegodsandgoddesses—theyseemedtohaveasmanydifferentaliasesasamoderncriminal.Indeedtheyseemedtobedefinitelycriminaltypes.Drink,debauchery,incest,rape,loot,homicideandchicanery—enoughtokeepajuged’Instructionconstantlybusy.Nodecentfamilylife.Noorder,nomethod.Evenintheircrimes,noorderormethod!
“Herculesindeed!”saidHerculePoirot,risingtohisfeet,disillusioned.
Helookedroundhimwithapproval.Asquareroom,withgoodsquaremodernfurniture—evenapieceofgoodmodernsculpturerepresentingonecubeplacedonanothercubeandaboveitageometricalarrangementofcopperwire.Andinthemidstofthisshiningandorderlyroom,himself.Helookedathimselfintheglass.Here,then,wasamodernHercules—verydistinctfromthatunpleasantsketchofanakedfigurewithbulgingmuscles,brandishingaclub.Instead,asmallcompactfigureattiredincorrecturbanwearwithamoustache—suchamoustacheasHerculesneverdreamedofcultivating—amoustachemagnificentyetsophisticated.
YettherewasbetweenthisHerculePoirotandtheHerculesofClassicalloreonepointofresemblance.Bothofthem,undoubtedly,hadbeeninstrumentalinriddingtheworldofcertainpests…EachofthemcouldbedescribedasabenefactortotheSocietyhelivedin..
WhathadDr.Burtonsaidlastnightasheleft:“YoursarenottheLaborsofHercules….”
Ah,buttherehewaswrong,theoldfossil.Thereshouldbe,onceagain,theLaborsofHercules—amodernHercules.Aningeniousandamusingconceit!Intheperiodbeforehisfinalretirementhewouldaccepttwelvecases,nomore,noless.AndthosetwelvecasesshouldbeselectedwithspecialreferencetothetwelveLaborsofancientHercules.Yes,thatwouldnotonlybeamusing,itwouldbeartistic,itwouldbespiritual.
PoirotpickeduptheClassicalDictionaryandimmersedhimselfoncemoreinClassicallore.Hedidnotintendtofollowhisprototypetooclosely.Thereshouldbenowomen,noshirtofNessus…TheLaborsandtheLaborsonly.
ThefirstLabor,then,wouldbethatoftheNemeanLion.
“TheNemeanLion,”herepeated,tryingitoveronhistongue.
Naturallyhedidnotexpectacasetopresentitselfactuallyinvolvingafleshandbloodlion.ItwouldbetoomuchofacoincidenceshouldhebeapproachedbytheDirectorsoftheZoologicalGardenstosolveaproblemfortheminvolvingareallion.
No,heresymbolismmustbeinvolved.Thefirstcasemustconcernsomecelebratedpublicfigure,itmustbesensationalandofthefirstimportance!Somemastercriminal—oralternatelysomeonewhowasalioninthepubliceye.Somewell-knownwriter,orpolitician,orpainter—orevenRoyalty?
HelikedtheideaofRoyalty….
Hewouldnotbeinahurry.Hewouldwait—waitforthatcaseofhighimportancethatshouldbethefirstofhisself-imposedLabors.
One
THENEMEANLION
“Anythingofinterestthismorning,MissLemon?”heaskedasheenteredtheroomthefollowingmorning.
HetrustedMissLemon.Shewasawomanwithoutimagination,butshehadaninstinct.Anythingthatshementionedasworthconsiderationusuallywasworthconsideration.Shewasabornsecretary.
“Nothingmuch,M.Poirot.ThereisjustoneletterthatIthoughtmightinterestyou.Ihaveputitonthetopofthepile.”
“Andwhatisthat?”Hetookaninterestedstepforward.
“It’sfromamanwhowantsyoutoinvestigatethedisappearanceofhiswife’sPekinesedog.”
Poirotpausedwithhisfootstillintheair.HethrewaglanceofdeepreproachatMissLemon.Shedidnotnoticeit.Shehadbeguntotype.Shetypedwiththespeedandprecisionofaquick-firingtank.
Poirotwasshaken;shakenandembittered.MissLemon,theefficientMissLemon,hadlethimdown!APekinesedog.APekinesedog!Andafterthedreamhehadhadlastnight.HehadbeenleavingBuckinghamPalaceafterbeingpersonallythankedwhenhisvalethadcomeinwithhismorningchocolate!
Wordstrembledonhislips—wittycausticwords.HedidnotutterthembecauseMissLemon,owingtothespeedandefficiencyofhertyping,wouldnothaveheardthem.
Withagruntofdisgusthepickedupthetopmostletterfromthelittlepileonthesideofhisdesk.
Yes,itwasexactlyasMissLemonhadsaid.Acityaddress—acurtbusinesslikeunrefineddemand.Thesubject—thekidnappingofaPekinesedog.Oneofthosebulging-eyed,overpamperedpetsofarichwoman.HerculePoirot’slipcurledashereadit.
Nothingunusualaboutthis.Nothingoutofthewayor—Butyes,yes,inonesmalldetail,MissLemonwasright.Inonesmalldetailtherewassomethingunusual.
HerculePoirotsatdown.Hereadtheletterslowlyandcarefully.Itwasnotthekindofcasehewanted,itwasnotthekindofcasehehadpromisedhimself.Itwasnotinanysenseanimportantcase,itwassupremelyunimportant.Itwasnot—andherewasthecruxofhisobjection—itwasnotaproperLaborofHercules.
Butunfortunatelyhewascurious…
Yes,hewascurious….
HeraisedhisvoicesoastobeheardbyMissLemonabovethenoiseofhertyping.
“RingupthisSirJosephHoggin,”heordered,“andmakeanappointmentformetoseehimathisofficeashesuggests.”
Asusual,MissLemonhadbeenright.
???
“I’maplainman,Mr.Poirot,”saidSirJosephHoggin.
HerculePoirotmadeanoncommittalgesturewithhisrighthand.Itexpressed(ifyouchosetotakeitso)admirationforthesolidworthofSirJoseph’scareerandanappreciationofhismodestyinsodescribinghimself.Itcouldalsohaveconveyedagracefuldeprecationofthestatement.InanycaseitgavenocluetothethoughtthenuppermostinHerculePoirot’smind,whichwasthatSirJosephcertainlywas(usingtheterminitsmorecolloquialsense)averyplainmanindeed.HerculePoirot’seyesrestedcriticallyontheswellingjowl,thesmallpigeyes,thebulbousnoseandtheclose-lippedmouth.Thewholegeneraleffectremindedhimofsomeoneorsomething—butforthemomenthecouldnotrecollectwhoorwhatitwas.Amemorystirreddimly.Alongtimeago…inBelgium…something,surely,todowithsoap
SirJosephwascontinuing.
“Nofrillsaboutme.Idon’tbeataboutthebush.Mostpeople,Mr.Poirot,wouldletthisbusinessgo.Writeitoffasabaddebtandforgetaboutit.Butthat’snotJosephHoggin’sway.I’marichman—andinamannerofspeakingtwohundredpoundsisneitherherenortheretome—”
Poirotinterpolatedswiftly:
“Icongratulateyou.”
“Eh?”
SirJosephpausedaminute.Hissmalleyesnarrowedthemselvesstillmore.Hesaidsharply:
“That’snottosaythatI’minthehabitofthrowingmymoneyabout.WhatIwantIpayfor.ButIpaythemarketprice—nomore.”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Yourealizethatmyfeesarehigh?”
“Yes,yes.Butthis,”SirJosephlookedathimcunningly,“isaverysmallmatter.”
HerculePoirotshruggedhisshoulders.Hesaid:
“Idonotbargain.Iamanexpert.Fortheservicesofanexpertyouhavetopay.”
SirJosephsaidfrankly:
“Iknowyou’reatip-topmanatthissortofthing.ImadeinquiriesandIwastoldthatyouwerethebestmanavailable.ImeantogettothebottomofthisbusinessandIdon’tgrudgetheexpense.That’swhyIgotyoutocomehere.”
“Youwerefortunate,”saidHerculePoirot.
SirJosephsaid“Eh?”again.
“Exceedinglyfortunate,”saidHerculePoirotfirmly.“Iam,Imaysaysowithoutunduemodesty,attheapexofmycareer.VeryshortlyIintendtoretire—toliveinthecountry,totraveloccasionallytoseetheworld—also,itmaybe,tocultivatemygarden—withparticularattentiontoimprovingthestrainofvegetablemarrows.Magnificentvegetables—buttheylackflavour.That,however,isnotthepoint.IwishedmerelytoexplainthatbeforeretiringIhadimposeduponmyselfacertaintask.Ihavedecidedtoaccepttwelvecases—nomore,noless.Aself-imposed‘LaborsofHercules’ifImaysodescribeit.Yourcase,SirJoseph,isthefirstofthetwelve.Iwasattractedtoit,”hesighed,“byitsstrikingunimportance.”
“Importance?”saidSirJoseph.
“UnimportancewaswhatIsaid.Ihavebeencalledinforvaryingcauses—toinvestigatemurders,unexplaineddeaths,robberies,theftsofjewellery.ThisisthefirsttimethatIhavebeenaskedtoturnmytalentstoelucidatethekidnappingofaPekinesedog.”
SirJosephgrunted.Hesaid:
“Yousurpriseme!Ishouldhavesaidyou’dhavehadnoendofwomenpesteringyouabouttheirpetdogs.”
“That,certainly.ButitisthefirsttimethatIamsummonedbythehusbandinthecase.”
SirJoseph’slittleeyesnarrowedappreciatively.
Hesaid:
“Ibegintoseewhytheyrecommendedyoutome.You’reashrewdfellow,Mr.Poirot.”
Poirotmurmured:
“Ifyouwillnowtellmethefactsofthecase.Thedogdisappeared,when?”
“Exactlyaweekago.”
“Andyourwifeisbynowquitefrantic,Ipresume?”
SirJosephstared.Hesaid:
“Youdon’tunderstand.Thedoghasbeenreturned.”
“Returned?Then,permitmetoask,wheredoIenterthematter?”
SirJosephwentcrimsonintheface.
“BecauseI’mdamnedifI’llbeswindled!Nowthen,Mr.Poirot,I’mgoingtotellyouthewholething.Thedogwasstolenaweekago—nippedinKensingtonGardenswherehewasoutwithmywife’scompanion.Thenextdaymywifegotademandfortwohundredpounds.Iaskyou—twohundredpounds!Foradamnedyappinglittlebrutethat’salwaysgettingunderyourfeetanyway!”
Poirotmurmured:
“Youdidnotapproveofpayingsuchasum,naturally?”
“OfcourseIdidn’t—orwouldn’thaveifI’dknownanythingaboutit!Milly(mywife)knewthatwellenough.Shedidn’tsayanythingtome.Justsentoffthemoney—inonepoundnotesasstipulated—totheaddressgiven.”
“Andthedogwasreturned?”
“Yes.Thateveningthebellrangandtherewasthelittlebrutesittingonthedoorstep.Andnotasoultobeseen.”
“Perfectly.Continue.”
“Then,ofcourse,Millyconfessedwhatshe’ddoneandIlostmytemperabit.However,Icalmeddownafterawhile—afterall,thethingwasdoneandyoucan’texpectawomantobehavewithanysense—andIdaresayIshouldhaveletthewholethinggoifithadn’tbeenformeetingoldSamuelsonattheClub.”
“Yes?”
“Damnitall,thisthingmustbeapositiveracket!Exactlythesamethinghadhappenedtohim.Threehundredpoundsthey’drookedhiswifeof!Well,thatwasabittoomuch.Idecidedthethinghadgottobestopped.Isentforyou.”
“Butsurely,SirJoseph,theproperthing(andaverymuchmoreinexpensivething)wouldhavebeentosendforthepolice?”
SirJosephrubbedhisnose.
Hesaid:
“Areyoumarried,Mr.Poirot?”
“Alas,”saidPoirot,“Ihavenotthatfelicity.”
“H’m,”saidSirJoseph.“Don’tknowaboutfelicity,butifyouwere,you’dknowthatwomenarefunnycreatures.Mywifewentintohystericsatthemerementionofthepolice—she’dgotitintoherheadthatsomethingwouldhappentoherpreciousShanTungifIwenttothem.Shewouldn’thearoftheidea—andImaysayshedoesn’ttakeverykindlytotheideaofyourbeingcalledin.ButIstoodfirmthereandatlastshegaveway.But,mindyou,shedoesn’tlikeit.”
HerculePoirotmurmured:
“Thepositionis,Iperceive,adelicateone.Itwouldbeaswell,perhaps,ifIweretointerviewMadameyourwifeandgainfurtherparticularsfromherwhilstatthesametimereassuringherastothefuturesafetyofherdog?”
SirJosephnoddedandrosetohisfeet.Hesaid:
“I’lltakeyoualonginthecarrightaway.”
II
Inalarge,hot,ornatelyfurnisheddrawingroomtwowomenweresitting.
AsSirJosephandHerculePoirotentered,asmallPekinesedogrushedforward,barkingfuriously,andcirclingdangerouslyroundPoirot’sankles.
“Shan—Shan,comehere.Comeheretomother,lovey—Pickhimup,MissCarnaby.”
ThesecondwomanhurriedforwardandHerculePoirotmurmured:
“Averitablelion,indeed.”
RatherbreathlesslyShanTung’scaptoragreed.
“Yes,indeed,he’ssuchagoodwatchdog.He’snotfrightenedofanythingoranyone.There’salovelyboy,then.”
Havingperformedthenecessaryintroduction,SirJosephsaid:
“Well,Mr.Poirot,I’llleaveyoutogetonwithit,”andwithashortnodhelefttheroom.
LadyHogginwasastout,petulant-lookingwomanwithdyedhennaredhair.Hercompanion,theflutteringMissCarnaby,wasaplump,amiable-lookingcreaturebetweenfortyandfifty.ShetreatedLadyHogginwithgreatdeferenceandwasclearlyfrightenedtodeathofher.
Poirotsaid:
“Nowtellme,LadyHoggin,thefullcircumstancesofthisabominablecrime.”
LadyHogginflushed.
“I’mverygladtohearyousaythat,Mr.Poirot.Foritwasacrime.Pekineseareterriblysensitive—justassensitiveaschildren.PoorShanTungmighthavediedoffrightifofnothingelse.”
MissCarnabychimedinbreathlessly:
“Yes,itwaswicked—wicked!”
“Pleasetellmethefacts.”
“Well,itwaslikethis.ShanTungwasoutforhiswalkintheParkwithMissCarnaby—”
“Ohdearme,yes,itwasallmyfault,”chimedinthecompanion.“HowcouldIhavebeensostupid—socareless—”
LadyHogginsaidacidly:
“Idon’twanttoreproachyou,MissCarnaby,butIdothinkyoumighthavebeenmorealert.”
Poirottransferredhisgazetothecompanion.
“Whathappened?”
MissCarnabyburstintovolubleandslightlyflusteredspeech.
“Well,itwasthemostextraordinarything!Wehadjustbeenalongtheflowerwalk—ShanTungwasonthelead,ofcourse—he’dhadhislittlerunonthegrass—andIwasjustabouttoturnandgohomewhenmyattentionwascaughtbyababyinapram—suchalovelybaby—itsmiledatme—lovelyrosycheeksandsuchcurls.Icouldn’tjustresistspeakingtothenurseinchargeandaskinghowolditwas—seventeenmonths,shesaid—andI’msureIwasonlyspeakingtoherforaboutaminuteortwo,andthensuddenlyIlookeddownandShanwasn’tthereanymore.Theleadhadbeencutrightthrough—”
LadyHogginsaid:
“Ifyou’dbeenpayingproperattentiontoyourduties,nobodycouldhavesneakedupandcutthatlead.”
MissCarnabyseemedinclinedtoburstintotears.Poirotsaidhastily:
“Andwhathappenednext?”
“Well,ofcourseIlookedeverywhere.Andcalled!AndIaskedtheParkattendantifhe’dseenamancarryingaPekinesedogbuthehadn’tnoticedanythingofthekind—andIdidn’tknowwhattodo—andIwentonsearching,butatlast,ofcourse,Ihadtocomehome—”
MissCarnabystoppeddead.Poirotcouldimaginethescenethatfollowedwellenough.Heasked:
“Andthenyoureceivedaletter?”
LadyHoggintookupthetale.
“Bythefirstpostthefollowingmorning.ItsaidthatifIwantedtoseeShanTungaliveIwastosend￡200inonepoundnotesinanunregisteredpackettoCaptainCurtis,38BloomsburyRoadSquare.Itsaidthatifthemoneyweremarkedorthepoliceinformedthen—then—ShanTung’searsandtailwouldbe—cutoff!”
MissCarnabybegantosniff.
“Soawful,”shemurmured.“Howpeoplecanbesuchfiends!”
LadyHogginwenton:
“ItsaidthatifIsentthemoneyatonce,ShanTungwouldbereturnedthesameeveningaliveandwell,butthatif—ifafterwardsIwenttothepolice,itwouldbeShanTungwhowouldsufferforit—”
MissCarnabymurmuredtearfully:
“Ohdear,I’msoafraidthatevennow—ofcourse,M.Poirotisn’texactlythepolice—”
LadyHogginsaidanxiously:
“Soyousee,Mr.Poirot,youwillhavetobeverycareful.”
HerculePoirotwasquicktoallayheranxiety.
“ButI,Iamnotofthepolice.Myinquiries,theywillbeconductedverydiscreetly,veryquietly.Youcanbeassured,LadyHoggin,thatShanTungwillbeperfectlysafe.ThatIwillguarantee.”
Bothladiesseemedrelievedbythemagicword.Poirotwenton:“Youhaveheretheletter?”
LadyHogginshookherhead.
“No,Iwasinstructedtoencloseitwiththemoney.”
“Andyoudidso?”
“Yes.”
“H’m,thatisapity.”
MissCarnabysaidbrightly:
“ButIhavethedogleadstill.ShallIgetit?”
Shelefttheroom.HerculePoirotprofitedbyherabsencetoaskafewpertinentquestions.
“AmyCarnaby?Oh!she’squiteallright.Agoodsoul,thoughfoolish,ofcourse.Ihavehadseveralcompanionsandtheyhaveallbeencompletefools.ButAmywasdevotedtoShanTungandshewasterriblyupsetoverthewholething—aswellshemightbe—hangingoverperambulatorsandneglectingmylittlesweetheart!Theseoldmaidsareallthesame,idioticoverbabies!No,I’mquitesureshehadnothingwhatevertodowithit.”
“Itdoesnotseemlikely,”Poirotagreed.“Butasthedogdisappearedwheninherchargeonemustmakequitecertainofherhonesty.Shehasbeenwithyoulong?”
“Nearlyayear.Ihadexcellentreferenceswithher.ShewaswitholdLadyHartingfielduntilshedied—tenyears,Ibelieve.Afterthatshelookedafteraninvalidsisterforawhile.Shereallyisanexcellentcreature—butacompletefool,asIsaid.”
AmyCarnabyreturnedatthisminute,slightlymoreoutofbreath,andproducedthecutdogleadwhichshehandedtoPoirotwiththeutmostsolemnity,lookingathimwithhopefulexpectancy.
Poirotsurveyeditcarefully.
“Maisoui,”hesaid.“Thishasundoubtedlybeencut.”
Thetwowomenwaitedexpectantly.Hesaid:
“Iwillkeepthis.”
Solemnlyheputitinhispocket.Thetwowomenbreathedasighofrelief.Hehadclearlydonewhatwasexpectedofhim.
III
ItwasthehabitofHerculePoirottoleavenothinguntested.
ThoughonthefaceofititseemedunlikelythatMissCarnabywasanythingbutthefoolishandrathermuddle-headedwomanthatsheappearedtobe,PoirotneverthelessmanagedtointerviewasomewhatforbiddingladywhowasthenieceofthelateLadyHartingfield.
“AmyCarnaby?”saidMissMaltravers.“Ofcourse,rememberherperfectly.ShewasagoodsoulandsuitedAuntJuliadowntotheground.Devotedtodogsandexcellentatreadingaloud.Tactful,too,nevercontradictedaninvalid.What’shappenedtoher?Notindistressofanykind,Ihope.Igaveherareferenceaboutayearagotosomewoman—namebeganwithH—”
PoirotexplainedhastilythatMissCarnabywasstillinherpost.Therehadbeen,hesaid,alittletroubleoveralostdog.
“AmyCarnabyisdevotedtodogs.MyaunthadaPekinese.SheleftittoMissCarnabywhenshediedandMissCarnabywasdevotedtoit.Ibelieveshewasquiteheartbrokenwhenitdied.Ohyes,she’sagoodsoul.Not,ofcourse,preciselyintellectual.”
HerculePoirotagreedthatMissCarnabycouldnot,perhaps,bedescribedasintellectual.
HisnextproceedingwastodiscovertheParkKeepertowhomMissCarnabyhadspokenonthefatefulafternoon.Thishedidwithoutmuchdifficulty.Themanrememberedtheincidentinquestion.
“Middle-agedlady,ratherstout—inaregularstateshewas—lostherPekinesedog.Iknewherwellbysight—bringsthedogalongmostafternoons.Isawhercomeinwithit.Shewasinararetakingwhenshelostit.CamerunningtometoknowifI’dseenanyonewithaPekinesedog!Well,Iaskyou!Icantellyou,theGardensisfullofdogs—everykind—terriers,Pekes,Germansausage-dogs—eventhemBorzois—allkindswehave.NotlikelyasI’dnoticeonePekemorethananother.”
HerculePoirotnoddedhisheadthoughtfully.
Hewentto38BloomsburyRoadSquare.
Nos.38,39and40wereincorporatedtogetherastheBalaclavaPrivateHotel.Poirotwalkedupthestepsandpushedopenthedoor.Hewasgreetedinsidebygloomandasmellofcookingcabbagewithareminiscenceofbreakfastkippers.Onhisleftwasamahoganytablewithasad-lookingchrysanthemumplantonit.Abovethetablewasabigbaize-coveredrackintowhichletterswerestuck.Poirotstaredattheboardthoughtfullyforsomeminutes.Hepushedopenadooronhisright.Itledintoakindofloungewithsmalltablesandsomeso-calledeasychairscoveredwithadepressingpatternofcretonne.Threeoldladiesandonefierce-lookingoldgentlemanraisedtheirheadsandgazedattheintruderwithdeadlyvenom.HerculePoirotblushedandwithdrew.
Hewalkedfartheralongthepassageandcametoastaircase.Onhisrightapassagebranchedatrightanglestowhatwasevidentlythediningroom.
Alittlewayalongthispassagewasadoormarked“Office.”
OnthisPoirottapped.Receivingnoresponse,heopenedthedoorandlookedin.Therewasalargedeskintheroomcoveredwithpapersbuttherewasnoonetobeseen.Hewithdrew,closingthedooragain.Hepenetratedtothediningroom.
Asad-lookinggirlinadirtyapronwasshufflingaboutwithabasketofknivesandforkswithwhichshewaslayingthetables.
HerculePoirotsaidapologetically:
“Excuseme,butcouldIseetheManageress?”
Thegirllookedathimwithlacklustreeyes.
Shesaid:
“Idon’tknow,I’msure.”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Thereisnooneintheoffice.”
“Well,Idon’tknowwhereshe’dbe,I’msure.”
“Perhaps,”HerculePoirotsaid,patientandpersistent,“youcouldfindout?”
Thegirlsighed.Drearyasherday’sroundwas,ithadnowbeenmadeadditionallysobythisnewburdenlaiduponher.Shesaidsadly:
“Well,I’llseewhatIcando.”
Poirotthankedherandremovedhimselfoncemoretothehall,notdaringtofacethemalevolentglareoftheoccupantsofthelounge.Hewasstaringupatthebaize-coveredletterrackwhenarustleandastrongsmellofDevonshirevioletsproclaimedthearrivaloftheManageress.
Mrs.Hartewasfullofgraciousness.Sheexclaimed:
“SosorryIwasnotinmyoffice.Youwererequiringrooms?”
HerculePoirotmurmured:
“Notprecisely.Iwaswonderingifafriendofminehadbeenstayingherelately.ACaptainCurtis.”
“Curtis,”exclaimedMrs.Harte.“CaptainCurtis?NowwherehaveIheardthatname?”
Poirotdidnothelpher.Sheshookherheadvexedly.
Hesaid:
“Youhavenot,then,hadaCaptainCurtisstayinghere?”
“Well,notlately,certainly.Andyet,youknow,thenameiscertainlyfamiliartome.Canyoudescribeyourfriendatall?”
“That,”saidHerculePoirot,“wouldbedifficult.”Hewenton:“Isupposeitsometimeshappensthatlettersarriveforpeoplewheninactualfactnooneofthatnameisstayinghere?”
“Thatdoeshappen,ofcourse.”
“Whatdoyoudowithsuchletters?”
“Well,wekeepthemforatime.Yousee,itprobablymeansthatthepersoninquestionwillarriveshortly.Ofcourse,iflettersorparcelsarealongtimehereunclaimed,theyarereturnedtothepostoffice.”
HerculePoirotnoddedthoughtfully.
Hesaid:
“Icomprehend.”Headded:“Itislikethis,yousee.Iwrotealettertomyfriendhere.”
Mrs.Harte’sfacecleared.
“Thatexplainsit.Imusthavenoticedthenameonanenvelope.Butreallywehavesomanyex-Armygentlemenstayinghereorpassingthrough—Letmeseenow.”
Shepeeredupattheboard.
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Itisnottherenow.”
“Itmusthavebeenreturnedtothepostman,Isuppose.Iamsosorry.Nothingimportant,Ihope?”
“No,no,itwasofnoimportance.”
Ashemovedtowardsthedoor,Mrs.Harte,envelopedinherpungentodourofviolets,pursuedhim.
“Ifyourfriendshouldcome—”
“Itismostunlikely.Imusthavemadeamistake….”
“Ourterms,”saidMrs.Harte,“areverymoderate.Coffeeafterdinnerisincluded.Iwouldlikeyoutoseeoneortwoofourbed-sittingrooms….”
WithdifficultyHerculePoirotescaped.
IV
ThedrawingroomofMrs.Samuelsonwaslarger,morelavishlyfurnished,andenjoyedanevenmorestiflingamountofcentralheatingthanthatofLadyHoggin.HerculePoirotpickedhiswaygiddilyamongstgildedconsoletablesandlargegroupsofstatuary.
Mrs.SamuelsonwastallerthanLadyHogginandherhairwasdyedwithperoxide.HerPekinesewascalledNankiPoo.HisbulgingeyessurveyedHerculePoirotwitharrogance.MissKeble,Mrs.Samuelson’scompanion,wasthinandscraggywhereMissCarnabyhadbeenplump,butshealsowasvolubleandslightlybreathless.She,too,hadbeenblamedforNankiPoo’sdisappearance.
“Butreally,Mr.Poirot,itwasthemostamazingthing.Itallhappenedinasecond.OutsideHarrodsitwas.Anursethereaskedmethetime—”
Poirotinterruptedher.
“Anurse?Ahospitalnurse?”
“No,no—achildren’snurse.Suchasweetbabyitwas,too!Adearlittlemite.Suchlovelyrosycheeks.Theysaychildrendon’tlookhealthyinLondon,butI’msure—”
“Ellen,”saidMrs.Samuelson.
MissKebleblushed,stammered,andsubsidedintosilence.
Mrs.Samuelsonsaidacidly:
“AndwhileMissKeblewasbendingoveraperambulatorthathadnothingtodowithher,thisaudaciousvillaincutNankiPoo’sleadandmadeoffwithhim.”
MissKeblemurmuredtearfully:
“Itallhappenedinasecond.Ilookedroundandthedarlingboywasgone—therewasjustthedanglingleadinmyhand.Perhapsyou’dliketoseethelead,Mr.Poirot?”
“Bynomeans,”saidPoirothastily.Hehadnowishtomakeacollectionofcutdogleads.“Iunderstand,”hewenton,“thatshortlyafterwardsyoureceivedaletter?”
Thestoryfollowedthesamecourseexactly—theletter—thethreatsofviolencetoNankiPoo’searsandtail.Onlytwothingsweredifferent—thesumofmoneydemanded—￡300—andtheaddresstowhichitwastobesent:thistimeitwastoCommanderBlackleigh,HarringtonHotel,76ClonmelGardens,Kensington.
Mrs.Samuelsonwenton:
“WhenNankiPoowassafelybackagain,Iwenttotheplacemyself,Mr.Poirot.Afterall,threehundredpoundsisthreehundredpounds.”
“Certainlyitis.”
“TheveryfirstthingIsawwasmyletterenclosingthemoneyinakindofrackinthehall.WhilstIwaswaitingfortheproprietressIslippeditintomybag.Unfortunately—”
Poirotsaid:“Unfortunately,whenyouopenedititcontainedonlyblanksheetsofpaper.”
“Howdidyouknow?”Mrs.Samuelsonturnedonhimwithawe.
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Obviously,chèreMadame,thethiefwouldtakecaretorecoverthemoneybeforehereturnedthedog.Hewouldthenreplacethenoteswithblankpaperandreturnthelettertotherackincaseitsabsenceshouldbenoticed.”
“NosuchpersonasCommanderBlackleighhadeverstayedthere.”
Poirotsmiled.
“Andofcourse,myhusbandwasextremelyannoyedaboutthewholething.Infact,hewaslivid—absolutelylivid!”
Poirotmurmuredcautiously:
“Youdidnot—er—consulthimbeforedispatchingthemoney?”
“Certainlynot,”saidMrs.Samuelsonwithdecision.
Poirotlookedaquestion.Theladyexplained.
“Iwouldn’thaveriskeditforamoment.Menaresoextraordinarywhenit’saquestionofmoney.Jacobwouldhaveinsistedongoingtothepolice.Icouldn’triskthat.MypoordarlingNankiPoo.Anythingmighthavehappenedtohim!Ofcourse,Ihadtotellmyhusbandafterwards,becauseIhadtoexplainwhyIwasoverdrawnattheBank.”
Poirotmurmured:
“Quiteso—quiteso.”
“AndIhavereallyneverseenhimsoangry.Men,”saidMrs.Samuelson,rearrangingherhandsomediamondbraceletandturningherringsonherfingers,“thinkofnothingbutmoney.”
V
HerculePoirotwentupinthelifttoSirJosephHoggin’soffice.HesentinhiscardandwastoldthatSirJosephwasengagedatthemomentbutwouldseehimpresently.AhaughtyblondesailedoutofSirJoseph’sroomatlastwithherhandsfullofpapers.Shegavethequaintlittlemanadisdainfulglanceinpassing.
SirJosephwasseatedbehindhisimmensemahoganydesk.Therewasatraceoflipstickonhischin.
“Well,Mr.Poirot?Sitdown.Gotanynewsforme?”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Thewholeaffairisofapleasingsimplicity.Ineachcasethemoneywassenttooneofthoseboardinghousesorprivatehotelswherethereisnoporterorhallattendantandwherealargenumberofguestsarealwayscomingandgoing,includingafairlylargepreponderanceofex-Servicemen.Nothingwouldbeeasierthanforanyonetowalkin,abstractaletterfromtherack,eithertakeitaway,orelseremovethemoneyandreplaceitwithblankpaper.Therefore,ineverycase,thetrailendsabruptlyinablankwall.”
“Youmeanyou’venoideawhothefellowis?”
“Ihavecertainideas,yes.Itwilltakeafewdaystofollowthemup.”
SirJosephlookedathimcuriously.
“Goodwork.Then,whenyouhavegotanythingtoreport—”
“Iwillreporttoyouatyourhouse.”
SirJosephsaid:
“Ifyougettothebottomofthisbusiness,itwillbeaprettygoodpieceofwork.”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Thereisnoquestionoffailure.HerculePoirotdoesnotfail.”
SirJosephHogginlookedatthelittlemanandgrinned.
“Sureofyourself,aren’tyou?”hedemanded.
“Entirelywithreason.”
“Ohwell.”SirJosephHogginleanedbackinhischair.“Pridegoesbeforeafall,youknow.”
VI
HerculePoirot,sittinginfrontofhiselectricradiator(andfeelingaquietsatisfactioninitsneatgeometricalpattern)wasgivinginstructionstohisvaletandgeneralfactotum.
“Youunderstand,Georges?”
“Perfectly,sir.”
“Moreprobablyaflatormaisonette.Anditwilldefinitelybewithincertainlimits.SouthofthePark,eastofKensingtonChurch,westofKnightsbridgeBarracksandnorthofFulhamRoad.”
“Iunderstandperfectly,sir.”
Poirotmurmured.
“Acuriouslittlecase.Thereisevidencehereofaverydefinitetalentfororganization.Andthereis,ofcourse,thesurprisinginvisibilityofthestarperformer—theNemeanLionhimself,ifImaysostylehim.Yes,aninterestinglittlecase.IcouldwishthatIfeltmoreattractedtomyclient—buthebearsanunfortunateresemblancetoasoapmanufacturerofLiègewhopoisonedhiswifeinordertomarryablondesecretary.Oneofmyearlysuccesses.”
Georgesshookhishead.Hesaidgravely:
“Theseblondes,sir,they’reresponsibleforalotoftrouble.”
VII
ItwasthreedayslaterwhentheinvaluableGeorgessaid:
“Thisistheaddress,sir.”
HerculePoirottookthepieceofpaperhandedtohim.
“Excellent,mygoodGeorges.Andwhatdayoftheweek?”
“Thursdays,sir.”
“Thursdays.Andtoday,mostfortunately,isaThursday.Sothereneedbenodelay.”
TwentyminuteslaterHerculePoirotwasclimbingthestairsofanobscureblockofflatstuckedawayinalittlestreetleadingoffamorefashionableone.No.10RosholmMansionswasonthethirdandtopfloorandtherewasnolift.Poirottoiledupwardsroundandroundthenarrowcorkscrewstaircase.
HepausedtoregainhisbreathonthetoplandingandfrombehindthedoorofNo.10anewsoundbrokethesilence—thesharpbarkofadog.
HerculePoirotnoddedhisheadwithaslightsmile.HepressedthebellofNo.10.
Thebarkingredoubled—footstepscametothedoor,itwasopened….
MissAmyCarnabyfellback,herhandwenttoheramplebreast.
“YoupermitthatIenter?”saidHerculePoirot,andenteredwithoutwaitingforthereply.
Therewasasittingroomdooropenontherightandhewalkedin.BehindhimMissCarnabyfollowedasthoughinadream.
Theroomwasverysmallandmuchovercrowded.Amongstthefurnitureahumanbeingcouldbediscovered,anelderlywomanlyingonasofadrawnuptothegasfire.AsPoirotcamein,aPekinesedogjumpedoffthesofaandcameforwardutteringafewsharpsuspiciousbarks.
“Aha,”saidPoirot.“Thechiefactor!Isaluteyou,mylittlefriend.”
Hebentforward,extendinghishand.Thedogsniffedatit,hisintelligenteyesfixedontheman’sface.
MissCarnabymutteredfaintly:
“Soyouknow?”
HerculePoirotnodded.
“Yes,Iknow.”Helookedatthewomanonthesofa.“Yoursister,Ithink?”
MissCarnabysaidmechanically:“Yes,Emily,this—thisisMr.Poirot.”
EmilyCarnabygaveagasp.Shesaid:“Oh!”
AmyCarnabysaid:
“Augustus….”
ThePekineselookedtowardsher—histailmoved—thenheresumedhisscrutinyofPoirot’shand.Againhistailmovedfaintly.
Gently,PoirotpickedthelittledogupandsatdownwithAugustusonhisknee.Hesaid:
“SoIhavecapturedtheNemeanLion.Mytaskiscompleted.”
AmyCarnabysaidinaharddryvoice:
“Doyoureallyknoweverything?”
Poirotnodded.
“Ithinkso.Youorganizedthisbusiness—withAugustustohelpyou.Youtookyouremployer’sdogoutforhisusualwalk,broughthimhereandwentontotheParkwithAugustus.TheParkKeepersawyouwithaPekineseasusual.Thenursegirl,ifwehadeverfoundher,wouldalsohaveagreedthatyouhadaPekinesewithyouwhenyouspoketoher.Then,whileyouweretalking,youcuttheleadandAugustus,trainedbyyou,slippedoffatonceandmadeabeelinebackhome.Afewminuteslateryougavethealarmthatthedoghadbeenstolen.”
Therewasapause.ThenMissCarnabydrewherselfupwithacertainpatheticdignity.Shesaid:
“Yes.Itisallquitetrue.I—Ihavenothingtosay.”
Theinvalidwomanonthesofabegantocrysoftly.
Poirotsaid:
“Nothingatall,Mademoiselle?”
MissCarnabysaid:
“Nothing.Ihavebeenathief—andnowIamfoundout.”
Poirotmurmured:
“Youhavenothingtosay—inyourowndefence?”
AspotofredshowedsuddenlyinAmyCarnaby’swhitecheeks.Shesaid:
“I—Idon’tregretwhatIdid.Ithinkthatyouareakindman,Mr.Poirot,andthatpossiblyyoumightunderstand.Yousee,I’vebeensoterriblyafraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Yes,it’sdifficultforagentlemantounderstand,Iexpect.Butyousee,I’mnotacleverwomanatall,andI’venotrainingandI’mgettingolder—andI’msoterrifiedforthefuture.I’venotbeenabletosaveanything—howcouldIwithEmilytobecaredfor?—andasIgetolderandmoreincompetenttherewon’tbeanyonewhowantsme.They’llwantsomebodyyoungandbrisk.I’ve—I’veknownsomanypeoplelikeIam—nobodywantsyouandyouliveinoneroomandyoucan’thaveafireoranywarmthandnotverymuchtoeat,andatlastyoucan’tevenpaytherentofyourroom…ThereareInstitutions,ofcourse,butit’snotveryeasytogetintothemunlessyouhaveinfluentialfriends,andIhaven’t.ThereareagoodmanyotherssituatedlikeIam—poorcompanions—untraineduselesswomenwithnothingtolookforwardtobutadeadlyfear….”
Hervoiceshook.Shesaid:
“Andso—someofus—gottogetherand—andIthoughtofthis.ItwasreallyhavingAugustusthatputitintomymind.Yousee,tomostpeople,onePekineseisverymuchlikeanother.(JustaswethinktheChineseare.)Really,ofcourse,it’sridiculous.NoonewhoknewcouldmistakeAugustusforNankiPooorShanTungoranyoftheotherPekes.He’sfarmoreintelligentforonething,andhe’smuchhandsomer,but,asIsay,tomostpeopleaPekeisjustaPeke.Augustusputitintomyhead—that,combinedwiththefactthatsomanyrichwomenhavePekinesedogs.”
Poirotsaidwithafaintsmile:
“Itmusthavebeenaprofitable—racket!Howmanyarethereinthe—thegang?OrperhapsIhadbetteraskhowoftenoperationshavebeensuccessfullycarriedout?”
MissCarnabysaidsimply:
“ShanTungwasthesixteenth.”
HerculePoirotraisedhiseyebrows.
“Icongratulateyou.Yourorganizationmusthavebeenindeedexcellent.”
EmilyCarnabysaid:
“Amywasalwaysgoodatorganization.Ourfather—hewastheVicarofKellingtoninEssex—alwayssaidthatAmyhadquiteageniusforplanning.ShealwaysmadeallthearrangementsfortheSocialsandtheBazaarsandallthat.”
Poirotsaidwithalittlebow:
“Iagree.Asacriminal,Mademoiselle,youarequiteinthefirstrank.”
AmyCarnabycried:
“Acriminal.Ohdear,IsupposeIam.But—butitneverfeltlikethat.”
“Howdiditfeel?”
“Ofcourse,youarequiteright.Itwasbreakingthelaw.Butyousee—howcanIexplainit?Nearlyallthesewomenwhoemployusaresoveryrudeandunpleasant.LadyHoggin,forinstance,doesn’tmindwhatshesaystome.Shesaidhertonictastedunpleasanttheotherdayandpracticallyaccusedmeoftamperingwithit.Allthatsortofthing.”MissCarnabyflushed.“It’sreallyveryunpleasant.Andnotbeingabletosayanythingoranswerbackmakesitranklemore,ifyouknowwhatImean.”
“Iknowwhatyoumean,”saidHerculePoirot.
“Andthenseeingmoneyfritteredawaysowastefully—thatisupsetting.AndSirJoseph,occasionallyheusedtodescribeacouphehadmadeintheCity—sometimessomethingthatseemedtome(ofcourse,IknowI’veonlygotawoman’sbrainanddon’tunderstandfinance)downrightdishonest.Well,youknow,M.Poirot,itall—itallunsettledme,andIfeltthattotakealittlemoneyawayfromthesepeoplewhoreallywouldn’tmissitandhadn’tbeentooscrupulousinacquiringit—well,reallyithardlyseemedwrongatall.”
Poirotmurmured:
“AmodernRobinHood!Tellme,MissCarnaby,didyoueverhavetocarryoutthethreatsyouusedinyourletters?”
“Threats?”
“Wereyouevercompelledtomutilatetheanimalsinthewayyouspecified?”
MissCarnabyregardedhiminhorror.
“Ofcourse,Iwouldneverhavedreamedofdoingsuchathing!Thatwasjust—justanartistictouch.”
“Veryartistic.Itworked.”
“Well,ofcourseIknewitwould.IknowhowIshouldhavefeltaboutAugustus,andofcourseIhadtomakesurethesewomennevertoldtheirhusbandsuntilafterwards.Theplanworkedbeautifullyeverytime.Inninecasesoutoftenthecompanionwasgiventheletterwiththemoneytopost.Weusuallysteameditopen,tookoutthenotes,andreplacedthemwithpaper.Onceortwicethewomanposteditherself.Then,ofcourse,thecompanionhadtogotothehotelandtaketheletteroutoftherack.Butthatwasquiteeasy,too.”
“Andthenursemaidtouch?Wasitalwaysanursemaid?”
“Well,yousee,M.Poirot,oldmaidsareknowntobefoolishlysentimentalaboutbabies.Soitseemedquitenaturalthattheyshouldbeabsorbedoverababyandnotnoticeanything.”
HerculePoirotsighed.Hesaid:
“Yourpsychologyisexcellent,yourorganizationisfirstclass,andyouarealsoaveryfineactress.YourperformancetheotherdaywhenIinterviewedLadyHogginwasirreproachable.Neverthinkofyourselfdisparagingly,MissCarnaby.Youmaybewhatistermedanuntrainedwomanbutthereisnothingwrongwithyourbrainsorwithyourcourage.”
MissCarnabysaidwithafaintsmile:
“AndyetIhavebeenfoundout,M.Poirot.”
“Onlybyme.Thatwasinevitable!WhenIhadinterviewedMrs.SamuelsonIrealizedthatthekidnappingofShanTungwasoneofaseries.IhadalreadylearnedthatyouhadoncebeenleftaPekinesedogandhadaninvalidsister.IhadonlytoaskmyinvaluableservanttolookforasmallflatwithinacertainradiusoccupiedbyaninvalidladywhohadaPekinesedogandasisterwhovisitedheronceaweekonherdayout.Itwassimple.”
AmyCarnabydrewherselfup.Shesaid:
“Youhavebeenverykind.Itemboldensmetoaskyouafavour.Icannot,Iknow,escapethepenaltyforwhatIhavedone.Ishallbesenttoprison,Isuppose.Butifyoucould,M.Poirot,avertsomeofthepublicity.SodistressingforEmily—andforthosefewwhoknewusintheolddays.Icouldnot,Isuppose,gotoprisonunderafalsename?Oristhataverywrongthingtoask?”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“IthinkIcandomorethanthat.ButfirstofallImustmakeonethingquiteclear.Thisramphasgottostop.Theremustbenomoredisappearingdogs.Allthatisfinished!”
“Yes!Ohyes!”
“AndthemoneyyouextractedfromLadyHogginmustbereturned.”
AmyCarnabycrossedtheroom,openedthedrawerofabureauandreturnedwithapacketofnoteswhichshehandedtoPoirot.
“Iwasgoingtopayitintothepooltoday.”
Poirottookthenotesandcountedthem.Hegotup.
“Ithinkitpossible,MissCarnaby,thatImaybeabletopersuadeSirJosephnottoprosecute.”
“Oh,M.Poirot!”
AmyCarnabyclaspedherhands.Emilygaveacryofjoy.Augustusbarkedandwaggedhistail.
“Asforyou,monami,”saidPoirotaddressinghim.“ThereisonethingthatIwishyouwouldgiveme.ItisyourmantleofinvisibilitythatIneed.Inallthesecasesnobodyforamomentsuspectedthattherewasaseconddoginvolved.Augustuspossessedthelion’sskinofinvisibility.”
“Ofcourse,M.Poirot,accordingtothelegend,Pekinesewerelionsonce.Andtheystillhavetheheartsoflions!”
“Augustusis,Isuppose,thedogthatwaslefttoyoubyLadyHartingfieldandwhoisreportedtohavedied?Wereyouneverafraidofhimcominghomealonethroughthetraffic?”
“Ohno,M.Poirot,Augustusisverycleverabouttraffic.Ihavetrainedhimmostcarefully.HehasevengraspedtheprincipleofOneWayStreets.”
“Inthatcase,”saidHerculePoirot,“heissuperiortomosthumanbeings!”
VIII
SirJosephreceivedHerculePoirotinhisstudy.Hesaid:
“Well,Mr.Poirot?Madeyourboastgood?”
“Letmefirstaskyouaquestion,”saidPoirotasheseatedhimself.“IknowwhothecriminalisandIthinkitpossiblethatIcanproducesufficientevidencetoconvictthisperson.ButinthatcaseIdoubtifyouwilleverrecoveryourmoney.”
“Notgetbackmymoney?”
SirJosephturnedpurple.
HerculePoirotwenton:
“ButIamnotapoliceman.Iamactinginthiscasesolelyinyourinterests.Icould,Ithink,recoveryourmoneyintact,ifnoproceedingsweretaken.”
“Eh?”saidSirJoseph.“Thatneedsabitofthinkingabout.”
“Itisentirelyforyoutodecide.Strictlyspeaking,Isupposeyououghttoprosecuteinthepublicinterest.Mostpeoplewouldsayso.”
“Idaresaytheywould,”saidSirJosephsharply.“Itwouldn’tbetheirmoneythathadgonewest.Ifthere’sonethingIhateit’stobeswindled.Nobody’severswindledmeandgotawaywithit.”
“Wellthen,whatdoyoudecide?”
SirJosephhitthetablewithhisfist.
“I’llhavethebrass!Nobody’sgoingtosaytheygotawaywithtwohundredpoundsofmymoney.”
HerculePoirotrose,crossedtothewritingtable,wroteoutachequefortwohundredpoundsandhandedittotheotherman.
SirJosephsaidinaweakvoice:
“Well,I’mdamned!Whothedevilisthisfellow?”
Poirotshookhishead.
“Ifyouacceptthemoney,theremustbenoquestionsasked.”
SirJosephfoldedupthechequeandputitinhispocket.
“That’sapity.Butthemoney’sthething.AndwhatdoIoweyou,Mr.Poirot?”
“Myfeeswillnotbehigh.Thiswas,asIsaid,averyunimportantmatter.”Hepaused—andadded,“Nowadaysnearlyallmycasesaremurdercases….”
SirJosephstartedslightly.
“Mustbeinteresting?”hesaid.
“Sometimes.Curiouslyenough,yourecalltomeoneofmyearliercasesinBelgium,manyyearsago—thechiefprotagonistwasverylikeyouinappearance.Hewasawealthysoapmanufacturer.Hepoisonedhiswifeinordertobefreetomarryhissecretary…Yes—theresemblanceisveryremarkable….”
AfaintsoundcamefromSirJoseph’slips—theyhadgoneaqueerbluecolour.Alltheruddyhuehadfadedfromhischeeks.Hiseyes,startingoutofhishead,staredatPoirot.Heslippeddownalittleinhischair.
Then,withashakinghand,hefumbledinhispocket.Hedrewoutthechequeandtoreitintopieces.
“That’swashedout—see?Consideritasyourfee.”
“Ohbut,SirJoseph,myfeewouldnothavebeenaslargeasthat.”
“That’sallright.Youkeepit.”
“Ishallsendittoadeservingcharity.”
“Senditanywhereyoudamnwelllike.”
Poirotleanedforward.Hesaid:
“IthinkIneedhardlypointout,SirJoseph,thatinyourposition,youwoulddowelltobeexceedinglycareful.”
SirJosephsaid,hisvoicealmostinaudible:
“Youneedn’tworry.Ishallbecarefulallright.”
HerculePoirotleftthehouse.Ashewentdownthestepshesaidtohimself:
“So—Iwasright.”
IX
LadyHogginsaidtoherhusband:
“Funny,thistonictastesquitedifferent.Ithasn’tgotthatbittertasteanymore.Iwonderwhy?”
SirJosephgrowled:
“Chemist.Carelessfellows.Makethingsupdifferentlydifferenttimes.”
LadyHogginsaiddoubtfully:
“Isupposethatmustbeit.”
“Ofcourseitis.Whatelsecoulditbe?”
“HasthemanfoundoutanythingaboutShanTung?”
“Yes.Hegotmemymoneybackallright.”
“Whowasit?”
“Hedidn’tsay.Veryclosefellow,HerculePoirot.Butyouneedn’tworry.”
“He’safunnylittleman,isn’the?”
SirJosephgaveaslightshiverandthrewasidewaysglanceupwardsasthoughhefelttheinvisiblepresenceofHerculePoirotbehindhisrightshoulder.Hehadanideathathewouldalwaysfeelitthere.
Hesaid:
“He’sadamnedcleverlittledevil!”
Andhethoughttohimself:
“Gretacangohang!I’mnotgoingtoriskmyneckforanydamnedplatinumblonde!”
X
“Oh!”
AmyCarnabygazeddownincredulouslyatthechequefortwohundredpounds.Shecried:
“Emily!Emily!Listentothis.
‘DearMissCarnaby,AllowmetoencloseacontributiontoyourverydeservingFundbeforeitisfinallywoundup.Yoursverytruly,HerculePoirot.’”
“Amy,”saidEmilyCarnaby,“you’vebeenincrediblylucky.Thinkwhereyoumightbenow.”
“WormwoodScrubbs—orisitHolloway?”murmuredAmyCarnaby.“Butthat’sallovernow—isn’tit,Augustus?NomorewalkstotheParkwithmotherormother’sfriendsandalittlepairofscissors.”
Afarawaywistfulnesscameintohereyes.Shesighed.
“DearAugustus!Itseemsapity.He’ssoclever…Onecanteachhimanything….”
Two
THELERNEANHYDRA
HerculePoirotlookedencouraginglyatthemanseatedoppositehim.
Dr.CharlesOldfieldwasamanofperhapsforty.Hehadfairhairslightlygreyatthetemplesandblueeyesthatheldaworriedexpression.Hestoopedalittleandhismannerwasatriflehesitant.Moreover,heseemedtofinddifficultyincomingtothepoint.
Hesaid,stammeringslightly:
“I’vecometoyou,M.Poirot,withratheranoddrequest.AndnowthatI’mhere,I’minclinedtofunkthewholething.Because,asIseeverywellnow,it’sthesortofthingthatnoonecanpossiblydoanythingabout.”
HerculePoirotmurmured:
“Astothat,youmustletmejudge.”
Oldfieldmuttered:
“Idon’tknowwhyIthoughtthatperhaps—”
Hebrokeoff.
HerculePoirotfinishedthesentence.
“ThatperhapsIcouldhelpyou?Ehbien,perhapsIcan.Tellmeyourproblem.”
Oldfieldstraightenedhimself.Poirotnotedanewhowhaggardthemanlooked.
Oldfieldsaid,andhisvoicehadanoteofhopelessnessinit:
“Yousee,itisn’tanygoodgoingtothepolice…Theycan’tdoanything.Andyet—everydayit’sgettingworseandworse.I—Idon’tknowwhattodo….”
“Whatisgettingworse?”
“Therumours…Oh,it’squitesimple,M.Poirot.Justalittleoverayearago,mywifedied.Shehadbeenaninvalidforsomeyears.Theyaresaying,everyoneissaying,thatIkilledher—thatIpoisonedher!”
“Aha,”saidPoirot.“Anddidyoupoisonher?”
“M.Poirot!”Dr.Oldfieldsprangtohisfeet.
“Calmyourself,”saidHerculePoirot.“Andsitdownagain.Wewilltakeit,then,thatyoudidnotpoisonyourwife.Butyourpractice,Iimagine,issituatedinacountrydistrict—”
“Yes.MarketLoughborough—inBerkshire.Ihavealwaysrealizedthatitwasthekindofplacewherepeoplegossipedagooddeal,butIneverimaginedthatitcouldreachthelengthsithasdone.”Hedrewhischairalittleforward.“M.Poirot,youhavenoideaofwhatIhavegonethrough.AtfirstIhadnoinklingofwhatwasgoingon.Ididnoticethatpeopleseemedlessfriendly,thattherewasatendencytoavoidme—butIputitdownto—tothefactofmyrecentbereavement.Thenitbecamemoremarked.Inthestreet,even,peoplewillcrosstheroadtoavoidspeakingtome.Mypracticeisfallingoff.WhereverIgoIamconsciousofloweredvoices,ofunfriendlyeyesthatwatchmewhilstmalicioustongueswhispertheirdeadlypoison.Ihavehadoneortwoletters—vilethings.”
Hepaused—andthenwenton:
“And—andIdon’tknowwhattodoaboutit.Idon’tknowhowtofightthis—thisvilenetworkofliesandsuspicion.Howcanonerefutewhatisneversaidopenlytoyourface?Iampowerless—trapped—andslowlyandmercilesslybeingdestroyed.”
Poirotnoddedhisheadthoughtfully.Hesaid:
“Yes.Rumourisindeedthenine-headedHydraofLerneawhichcannotbeexterminatedbecauseasfastasoneheadiscroppedofftwogrowinitsplace.”
Dr.Oldfieldsaid:“That’sjustit.There’snothingIcando—nothing!Icametoyouasalastresort—butIdon’tsupposeforaminutethatthereisanythingyoucandoeither.”
HerculePoirotwassilentforaminuteortwo.Thenhesaid:
“Iamnotsosure.Yourprobleminterestsme,DoctorOldfield.Ishouldliketotrymyhandatdestroyingthemany-headedmonster.Firstofall,tellmealittlemoreaboutthecircumstanceswhichgaverisetothismaliciousgossip.Yourwifedied,yousay,justoverayearago.Whatwasthecauseofdeath?”
“Gastriculcer.”
“Wasthereanautopsy?”
“No.Shehadbeensufferingfromgastrictroubleoveraconsiderableperiod.”
Poirotnodded.
“Andthesymptomsofgastricinflammationandofarsenicalpoisoningarecloselyalike—afactwhicheverybodyknowsnowadays.Withinthelasttenyearstherehavebeenatleastfoursensationalmurdercasesineachofwhichthevictimhasbeenburiedwithoutsuspicionwithacertificateofgastricdisorder.Wasyourwifeolderoryoungerthanyourself?”
“Shewasfiveyearsolder.”
“Howlonghadyoubeenmarried?”
“Fifteenyears.”
“Didsheleaveanyproperty?”
“Yes.Shewasafairlywell-to-dowoman.Sheleft,roughly,aboutthirtythousandpounds.”
“Averyusefulsum.Itwaslefttoyou?”
“Yes.”
“Wereyouandyourwifeongoodterms?”
“Certainly.”
“Noquarrels?Noscenes?”
“Well—”CharlesOldfieldhesitated.“Mywifewaswhatmightbetermedadifficultwoman.Shewasaninvalidandveryconcernedoverherhealthandinclined,therefore,tobefretfulanddifficulttoplease.ThereweredayswhennothingIcoulddowasright.”
Poirotnodded.Hesaid:
“Ahyes,Iknowthetype.Shewouldcomplain,possibly,thatshewasneglected,unappreciated—thatherhusbandwastiredofherandwouldbegladwhenshewasdead.”
Oldfield’sfaceregisteredthetruthofPoirot’ssurmise.Hesaidwithawrysmile:
“You’vegotitexactly!”
Poirotwenton:
“Didshehaveahospitalnursetoattendonher?Oracompanion?Oradevotedmaid?”
“Anurse-companion.Averysensibleandcompetentwoman.Ireallydon’tthinkshewouldtalk.”
“EventhesensibleandthecompetenthavebeengiventonguesbylebonDieu—andtheydonotalwaysemploytheirtongueswisely.Ihavenodoubtthatthenurse-companiontalked,thattheservantstalked,thateveryonetalked!Youhaveallthematerialsthereforthestartingofaveryenjoyablevillagescandal.NowIwillaskyouonemorething.Whoisthelady?”
“Idon’tunderstand.”Dr.Oldfieldflushedangrily.
Poirotsaidgently:
“Ithinkyoudo.Iamaskingyouwhotheladyiswithwhomyournamehasbeencoupled.”
Dr.Oldfieldrosetohisfeet.Hisfacewasstiffandcold.Hesaid:
“Thereisno‘ladyinthecase.’I’msorry,M.Poirot,tohavetakenupsomuchofyourtime.”
Hewenttowardsthedoor.
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Iregretitalso.Yourcaseinterestsme.Iwouldliketohavehelpedyou.ButIcannotdoanythingunlessIamtoldthewholetruth.”
“Ihavetoldyouthetruth.”
“No….”
Dr.Oldfieldstopped.Hewheeledround
“Whydoyouinsistthatthereisawomanconcernedinthis?”
“Moncherdocteur!DoyounotthinkIknowthefemalementality?Thevillagegossip,itisbasedalways,alwaysontherelationsofthesexes.IfamanpoisonshiswifeinordertotraveltotheNorthPoleortoenjoythepeaceofabachelorexistence—itwouldnotinteresthisfellowvillagersforaminute!Itisbecausetheyareconvincedthatthemurderhasbeencommittedinorderthatthemanmaymarryanotherwomanthatthetalkgrowsandspreads.Thatiselementalpsychology.”
Oldfieldsaidirritably:
“I’mnotresponsibleforwhatapackofdamnedgossipingbusybodiesthink!”
“Ofcourseyouarenot.”
Poirotwenton:
“SoyoumightaswellcomebackandsitdownandgivemetheanswertothequestionIaskedyoujustnow.”
Slowly,almostreluctantly,Oldfieldcamebackandresumedhisseat.
Hesaid,colouringuptohiseyebrows:
“Isupposeit’spossiblethatthey’vebeensayingthingsaboutMissMoncrieffe.JeanMoncrieffeismydispenser,averyfinegirlindeed.”
“Howlonghassheworkedforyou?”
“Forthreeyears.”
“Didyourwifelikeher?”
“Er—well,no,notexactly.”
“Shewasjealous?”
“Itwasabsurd!”
Poirotsmiled.
Hesaid:
“Thejealousyofwivesisproverbial.ButIwilltellyousomething.Inmyexperiencejealousy,howeverfar-fetchedandextravagantitmayseem,isnearlyalwaysbasedonreality.Thereisasaying,istherenot,thatthecustomerisalwaysright?Well,thesameistrueofthejealoushusbandorwife.Howeverlittleconcreteevidencetheremaybe,fundamentallytheyarealwaysright.”
Dr.Oldfieldsaidrobustly:
“Nonsense.I’veneversaidanythingtoJeanMoncrieffethatmywifecouldn’thaveoverheard.”
“That,perhaps.ButitdoesnotalterthetruthofwhatIsaid.”HerculePoirotleanedforward.Hisvoicewasurgent,compelling.“DoctorOldfield,Iamgoingtodomyutmostinthiscase.ButImusthavefromyouthemostabsolutefranknesswithoutregardtoconventionalappearancesortoyourownfeelings.Itistrue,isitnot,thatyouhadceasedtocareforyourwifeforsometimebeforeshedied?”
Oldfieldwassilentforaminuteortwo.Thenhesaid:
“Thisbusinessiskillingme.Imusthavehope.SomehoworotherIfeelthatyouwillbeabletodosomethingforme.Iwillbehonestwithyou,M.Poirot.Ididnotcaredeeplyformywife.Imadeher,Ithink,agoodhusband,butIwasneverreallyinlovewithher.”
“Andthisgirl,Jean?”
Theperspirationcameoutinafinedewonthedoctor’sforehead.Hesaid:
“I—Ishouldhaveaskedhertomarrymebeforenowifitweren’tforallthisscandalandtalk.”
Poirotsatbackinhischair.Hesaid:
“Nowatlastwehavecometothetruefacts!Ehbien,DoctorOldfield,Iwilltakeupyourcase.Butrememberthis—itisthetruththatIshallseekout.”
Oldfieldsaidbitterly:
“Itisn’tthetruththat’sgoingtohurtme!”
Hehesitatedandsaid:
“Youknow,I’vecontemplatedthepossibilityofanactionforslander!IfIcouldpinanyonedowntoadefiniteaccusation—surelythenIshouldbevindicated?Atleast,sometimesIthinkso…AtothertimesIthinkitwouldonlymakethingsworse—givebiggerpublicitytothewholethingandhavepeoplesaying:‘Itmayn’thavebeenprovedbutthere’snosmokewithoutfire.’”
HelookedatPoirot.
“Tellme,honestly,isthereanywayoutofthisnightmare?”
“Thereisalwaysaway,”saidHerculePoirot.
II
“Wearegoingintothecountry,Georges,”saidHerculePoirottohisvalet.
“Indeed,sir?”saidtheimperturbableGeorge.
“Andthepurposeofourjourneyistodestroyamonsterwithnineheads.”
“Really,sir?SomethingafterthestyleoftheLochNessMonster?”
“Lesstangiblethanthat.Ididnotrefertoafleshandbloodanimal,Georges.”
“Imisunderstoodyou,sir.”
“Itwouldbeeasierifitwereone.Thereisnothingsointangible,sodifficulttopindown,asthesourceofarumour.”
“Ohyes,indeed,sir.It’sdifficulttoknowhowathingstartssometimes.”
“Exactly.”
HerculePoirotdidnotputupatDr.Oldfield’shouse.Hewentinsteadtothelocalinn.Themorningafterhisarrival,hehadhisfirstinterviewwithJeanMoncrieffe.
Shewasatallgirlwithcopper-colouredhairandsteadyblueeyes.Shehadaboutherawatchfullook,asofonewhoisuponherguard.
Shesaid:
“SoDoctorOldfielddidgotoyou…Iknewhewasthinkingaboutit.”
Therewasalackofenthusiasminhertone.
Poirotsaid:
“Andyoudidnotapprove?”
Hereyesmethis.Shesaidcoldly:
“Whatcanyoudo?”
Poirotsaidquietly:
“Theremightbeawayoftacklingthesituation.”
“Whatway?”Shethrewthewordsathimscornfully.“Doyoumeangoroundtoallthewhisperingoldwomenandsay‘Really,please,youmuststoptalkinglikethis.It’ssobadforpoorDoctorOldfield.’Andthey’dansweryouandsay:‘Ofcourse,Ihaveneverbelievedthestory!’That’stheworstofthewholething—theydon’tsay:‘Mydear,hasiteveroccurredtoyouthatperhapsMrs.Oldfield’sdeathwasn’tquitewhatitseemed?’No,theysay:‘Mydear,ofcourseIdon’tbelievethatstoryaboutDoctorOldfieldandhiswife.I’msurehewouldn’tdosuchathing,thoughit’struethathedidneglectherjustalittleperhaps,andIdon’tthink,really,it’squitewisetohavequiteayounggirlashisdispenser—ofcourse,I’mnotsayingforaminutethattherewasanythingwrongbetweenthem.Ohno,I’msureitwasquiteallright…’”Shestopped.Herfacewasflushedandherbreathcameratherfast.
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Youseemtoknowverywelljustwhatisbeingsaid.”
Hermouthclosedsharply.Shesaidbitterly:
“Iknowallright!”
“Andwhatisyourownsolution?”
JeanMoncrieffesaid:
“Thebestthingforhimtodoistosellhispracticeandstartagainsomewhereelse.”
“Don’tyouthinkthestorymightfollowhim?”
Sheshruggedhershoulders.
“Hemustriskthat.”
Poirotwassilentforaminuteortwo.Thenhesaid:
“AreyougoingtomarryDoctorOldfield,MissMoncrieffe?”
Shedisplayednosurpriseatthequestion.Shesaidshortly:
“Hehasn’taskedmetomarryhim.”
“Whynot?”
Herblueeyesmethisandflickeredforasecond.Thenshesaid:
“BecauseI’vechokedhimoff.”
“Ah,whatablessingtofindsomeonewhocanbefrank!”
“Iwillbeasfrankasyouplease.WhenIrealizedthatpeopleweresayingthatCharleshadgotridofhiswifeinordertomarryme,itseemedtomethatifwedidmarryitwouldjustputthelidonthings.Ihopedthatifthereappearedtobenoquestionofmarriagebetweenus,thesillyscandalmightdiedown.”
“Butithasn’t?”
“Noithasn’t.”
“Surely,”saidHerculePoirot,“thatisalittleodd?”
Jeansaidbitterly:
“Theyhaven’tgotmuchtoamusethemdownhere.”
Poirotasked:
“DoyouwanttomarryCharlesOldfield?”
Thegirlansweredcoollyenough.
“Yes,Ido.IwantedtoalmostassoonasImethim.”
“Thenhiswife’sdeathwasveryconvenientforyou?”
JeanMoncrieffesaid:
“Mrs.Oldfieldwasasingularlyunpleasantwoman.Frankly,Iwasdelightedwhenshedied.”
“Yes,”saidPoirot.“Youarecertainlyfrank!”
Shegavethesamescornfulsmile.
Poirotsaid:
“Ihaveasuggestiontomake.”
“Yes?”
“Drasticmeansarerequiredhere.Isuggestthatsomebody—possiblyyourself—mightwritetotheHomeOffice.”
“Whatonearthdoyoumean?”
“Imeanthatthebestwayofdisposingofthisstoryonceandforallistogetthebodyexhumedandanautopsyperformed.”
Shetookastepbackfromhim.Herlipsopened,thenshutagain.Poirotwatchedher.
“Well,Mademoiselle?”hesaidatlast
JeanMoncrieffesaidquietly:
“Idon’tagreewithyou.”
“Butwhynot?Surelyaverdictofdeathfromnaturalcauseswouldsilencealltongues?”
“Ifyougotthatverdict,yes.”
“Doyouknowwhatyouaresuggesting,Mademoiselle?”
JeanMoncrieffesaidimpatiently:
“IknowwhatI’mtalkingabout.You’rethinkingofarsenicpoisoning—youcouldprovethatshewasnotpoisonedbyarsenic.Butthereareotherpoisons—thevegetablealkaloids.Afterayear,Idoubtifyou’dfindanytracesofthemeveniftheyhadbeenused.AndIknowwhattheseofficialanalystpeoplearelike.Theymightreturnanoncommittalverdictsayingthattherewasnothingtoshowwhatcauseddeath—andthenthetongueswouldwagfasterthanever!”
HerculePoirotwassilentforaminuteortwo.Thenhesaid:
“Whoinyouropinionisthemostinveteratetalkerinthevillage?”
Thegirlconsidered.Shesaidatlast:
“IreallythinkoldMissLeatheranistheworstcatofthelot.”
“Ah!WoulditbepossibleforyoutointroducemetoMissLeatheran—inacasualmannerifpossible?”
“Nothingcouldbeeasier.Alltheoldtabbiesareprowlingaboutdoingtheirshoppingatthistimeofthemorning.We’veonlygottowalkdownthemainstreet.”
AsJeanhadsaid,therewasnodifficultyabouttheprocedure.Outsidethepostoffice,Jeanstoppedandspoketoatall,thinmiddle-agedwomanwithalongnoseandsharpinquisitiveeyes.
“Goodmorning,MissLeatheran.”
“Goodmorning,Jean.Suchalovelyday,isitnot?”
ThesharpeyesrangedinquisitivelyoverJeanMoncrieffe’scompanion.Jeansaid:
“LetmeintroduceM.Poirot,whoisstayingdownhereforafewdays.”
III
Nibblingdelicatelyatasconeandbalancingacupofteaonhisknee,HerculePoirotallowedhimselftobecomeconfidentialwithhishostess.MissLeatheranhadbeenkindenoughtoaskhimtoteaandhadthereuponmadeitherbusinesstofindoutexactlywhatthisexoticlittleforeignerwasdoingintheirmidst.
Forsometimeheparriedherthrustswithdexterity—therebywhettingherappetite.Then,whenhejudgedthemomentripe,heleantforward:
“Ah,MissLeatheran,”hesaid.“Icanseethatyouaretoocleverforme!Youhaveguessedmysecret.IamdownhereattherequestoftheHomeOffice.Butplease,”heloweredhisvoice,“keepthisinformationtoyourself.”
“Ofcourse—ofcourse—”MissLeatheranwasflustered—thrilledtothecore.“TheHomeOffice—youdon’tmean—notpoorMrs.Oldfield?”
Poirotnoddedhisheadslowlyseveraltimes.
“We-ell!”MissLeatheranbreathedintothatonewordawholegamutofpleasurableemotion.
Poirotsaid:
“Itisadelicatematter,youunderstand.Ihavebeenorderedtoreportwhetherthereisorisnotasufficientcaseforexhumation.”
MissLeatheranexclaimed:
“Youaregoingtodigthepoorthingup.Howterrible!”
Ifshehadsaid“howsplendid”insteadof“howterrible”thewordswouldhavesuitedhertoneofvoicebetter.
“Whatisyourownopinion,MissLeatheran?”
“Well,ofcourse,M.Poirot,therehasbeenalotoftalk.ButIneverlistentotalk.Thereisalwayssomuchunreliablegossipgoingabout.ThereisnodoubtthatDoctorOldfieldhasbeenveryoddinhismannereversinceithappened,butasIhavesaidrepeatedlywesurelyneednotputthatdowntoaguiltyconscience.Itmightbejustgrief.Not,ofcourse,thatheandhiswifewereonreallyaffectionateterms.ThatIdoknow—onfirst-handauthority.NurseHarrison,whowaswithMrs.Oldfieldforthreeorfouryearsuptothetimeofherdeath,hasadmittedthatmuch.AndIhavealwaysfelt,youknow,thatNurseHarrisonhadhersuspicions—notthatsheeversaidanything,butonecantell,can’tone,fromaperson’smanner?”
Poirotsaidsadly:
“Onehassolittletogoupon.”
“Yes,Iknow,butofcourse,M.Poirot,ifthebodyisexhumedthenyouwillknow.”
“Yes,”saidPoirot,“thenwewillknow.”
“Therehavebeencaseslikeitbefore,ofcourse,”saidMissLeatheran,hernosetwitchingwithpleasurableexcitement.“Armstrong,forinstance,andthatotherman—Ican’trememberhisname—andthenCrippen,ofcourse.I’vealwayswonderedifEthelLeNevewasinitwithhimornot.Ofcourse,JeanMoncrieffeisaverynicegirl,I’msuresillyaboutgirls,don’tthey?And,ofcourse,theywerethrownverymuchtogether!”
Poirotdidnotspeak.Helookedatherwithaninnocentexpressionofinquirycalculatedtoproduceafurtherspateofconversation.Inwardlyheamusedhimselfbycountingthenumberoftimesthewords“ofcourse”occurred.
“And,ofcourse,withapostmortemandallthat,somuchwouldbeboundtocomeout,wouldn’tit?Servantsandallthat.Servantsalwaysknowsomuch,don’tthey?And,ofcourse,it’squiteimpossibletokeepthemfromgossiping,isn’tit?TheOldfields’Beatricewasdismissedalmostimmediatelyafterthefuneral—andI’vealwaysthoughtthatwasodd—especiallywiththedifficultyofgettingmaidsnowadays.ItlooksasthoughDr.Oldfieldwasafraidshemightknowsomething.”
“Itcertainlyseemsasthoughthereweregroundsforaninquiry,”saidPoirotsolemnly.
MissLeatherangavealittleshiverofreluctance.
“Onedoessoshrinkfromtheidea,”shesaid.“Ourdearquietlittlevillage—draggedintothenewspapers—allthepublicity!”
“Itappalsyou?”askedPoirot.
“Itdoesalittle.I’mold-fashioned,youknow.”
“And,asyousay,itisprobablynothingbutgossip!”
“Well—Iwouldn’tlikeconscientiouslytosaythat.Youknow,Idothinkit’ssotrue—thesayingthatthere’snosmokewithoutfire.”
“Imyselfwasthinkingexactlythesamething,”saidPoirot.
Herose.
“Icantrustyourdiscretion,Mademoiselle?”
“Oh,ofcourse!Ishallnotsayawordtoanybody.”
Poirotsmiledandtookhisleave.
Onthedoorstephesaidtothelittlemaidwhohandedhimhishatandcoat:
“IamdownheretoinquireintothecircumstancesofMrs.Oldfield’sdeath,butIshallbeobligedifyouwillkeepthatstrictlytoyourself.”
MissLeatheran’sGladysnearlyfellbackwardintotheumbrellastand.Shebreathedexcitedly:
“Oh,sir,thenthedoctordiddoherin?”
“You’vethoughtsoforsometime,haven’tyou?”
“Well,sir,itwasn’tme.ItwasBeatrice.ShewasuptherewhenMrs.Oldfielddied.”
“Andshethoughttherehadbeen”—Poirotselectedthemelodramaticwordsdeliberately—“‘foulplay?’”
Gladysnoddedexcitedly.
“Yes,shedid.AndshesaidsodidNursethatwasupthere,NurseHarrison.EversofondofMrs.OldfieldNursewas,andeversodistressedwhenshedied,andBeatricealwayssaidashowNurseHarrisonknewsomethingaboutitbecausesheturnedrightroundagainstthedoctorafterwardsandshewouldn’tofdonethatunlesstherewassomethingwrong,wouldshe?”
“WhereisNurseHarrisonnow?”
“ShelooksafteroldMissBristow—downattheendofthevillage.Youcan’tmissit.It’sgotpillarsandaporch.”
IV
ItwasaveryshorttimeafterwardsthatHerculePoirotfoundhimselfsittingoppositetothewomanwhocertainlymustknowmoreaboutthecircumstancesthathadgivenrisetotherumoursthananyoneelse.
NurseHarrisonwasstillahandsomewomannearingforty.ShehadthecalmserenefeaturesofaMadonnawithbigsympatheticdarkeyes.Shelistenedtohimpatientlyandattentively.Thenshesaidslowly:
“Yes,Iknowthattherearetheseunpleasantstoriesgoingabout.IhavedonewhatIcouldtostopthem,butit’shopeless.Peopleliketheexcitement,youknow.”
Poirotsaid:
“Buttheremusthavebeensomethingtogiverisetotheserumours?”
Henotedthatherexpressionofdistressdeepened.Butshemerelyshookherheadperplexedly.
“Perhaps,”Poirotsuggested,“DoctorOldfieldandhiswifedidnotgetonwelltogetheranditwasthatthatstartedtherumour?”
NurseHarrisonshookherheaddecidedly
“Ohno,DoctorOldfieldwasalwaysextremelykindandpatientwithhiswife.”
“Hewasreallyveryfondofher?”
Shehesitated.
“No—Iwouldnotquitesaythat.Mrs.Oldfieldwasaverydifficultwoman,noteasytopleaseandmakingconstantdemandsforsympathyandattentionwhichwerenotalwaysjustified.”
“Youmean,”saidPoirot,“thatsheexaggeratedhercondition?”
Thenursenodded.
“Yes—herbadhealthwaslargelyamatterofherownimagination.”
“Andyet,”saidPoirotgravely,“shedied….”
“Oh,Iknow—Iknow….”
Hewatchedherforaminuteortwo;hertroubledperplexity—herpalpableuncertainty.
Hesaid:“Ithink—Iamsure—thatyoudoknowwhatfirstgaverisetoallthesestories.”
NurseHarrisonflushed.
Shesaid:
“Well—Icould,perhaps,makeaguess.Ibelieveitwasthemaid,Beatrice,whostartedalltheserumoursandIthinkIknowwhatputitintoherhead.”
“Yes?”
NurseHarrisonsaidratherincoherently:
“Yousee,itwassomethingIhappenedtooverhear—ascrapofconversationbetweenDoctorOldfieldandMissMoncrieffe—andI’mprettycertainBeatriceoverheardittoo,onlyIdon’tsupposeshe’deveradmitit.”
“Whatwasthisconversation?”
NurseHarrisonpausedforaminuteasthoughtotesttheaccuracyofherownmemory,thenshesaid:
“ItwasaboutthreeweeksbeforethelastattackthatkilledMrs.Oldfield.Theywereinthediningroom.IwascomingdownthestairswhenIheardJeanMoncrieffesay:
“‘Howmuchlongerwillitbe?Ican’tbeartowaitmuchlonger.’
“Andthedoctoransweredher:
“‘Notmuchlongernow,darling,Iswearit.’Andshesaidagain:
“‘Ican’tbearthiswaiting.Youdothinkitwillbeallright,don’tyou?’Andhesaid:‘Ofcourse.Nothingcangowrong.Thistimenextyearwe’llbemarried.’”
Shepaused.
“ThatwastheveryfirstinklingI’dhad,M.Poirot,thattherewasanythingbetweenthedoctorandMissMoncrieffe.OfcourseIknewheadmiredherandthattheywereverygoodfriends,butnothingmore.Iwentbackupthestairsagain—ithadgivenmequiteashock—butIdidnoticethatthekitchendoorwasopenandI’vethoughtsincethatBeatricemusthavebeenlistening.Andyoucansee,can’tyou,thatthewaytheyweretalkingcouldbetakentwoways?Itmightjustmeanthatthedoctorknewhiswifewasveryillandcouldn’tlivemuchlonger—andI’venodoubtthatthatwasthewayhemeantit—buttoanyonelikeBeatriceitmightsounddifferently—itmightlookasthoughthedoctorandJeanMoncrieffewere—well—weredefinitelyplanningtodoawaywithMrs.Oldfield.”
“Butyoudon’tthinkso,yourself?”
“No—no,ofcoursenot….”
Poirotlookedathersearchingly.Hesaid:
“NurseHarrison,istheresomethingmorethatyouknow?Somethingthatyouhaven’ttoldme?”
Sheflushedandsaidviolently:
“No.No.Certainlynot.Whatcouldtherebe?”
“Idonotknow.ButIthoughtthattheremightbe—something?”
Sheshookherhead.Theoldtroubledlookhadcomeback.
HerculePoirotsaid:“ItispossiblethattheHomeOfficemayorderanexhumationofMrs.Oldfield’sbody!”
“Ohno!”NurseHarrisonwashorrified.“Whatahorriblething!”
“Youthinkitwouldbeapity?”
“Ithinkitwouldbedreadful!Thinkofthetalkitwouldcreate!Itwouldbeterrible—quiteterribleforpoorDoctorOldfield.”
“Youdon’tthinkthatitmightreallybeagoodthingforhim?”
“Howdoyoumean?”
Poirotsaid:“Ifheisinnocent—hisinnocencewillbeproved.”
Hebrokeoff.HewatchedthethoughttakerootinNurseHarrison’smind,sawherfrownperplexedly,andthensawherbrowclear.
Shetookadeepbreathandlookedathim.
“Ihadn’tthoughtofthat,”shesaidsimply.“Ofcourse,itistheonlythingtobedone.”
Therewereaseriesofthumpsontheflooroverhead.NurseHarrisonjumpedup.
“It’smyoldlady,MissBristow.She’swokenupfromherrest.ImustgoandgethercomfortablebeforeherteaisbroughttoherandIgooutformywalk.Yes,M.Poirot,Ithinkyouarequiteright.Anautopsywillsettlethebusinessonceandforall.ItwillscotchthewholethingandallthesedreadfulrumoursagainstpoorDoctorOldfieldwilldiedown.”
Sheshookhandsandhurriedoutoftheroom.
V
HerculePoirotwalkedalongtothepostofficeandputthroughacalltoLondon.
Thevoiceattheotherendwaspetulant
“Mustyougonosingoutthesethings,mydearPoirot?Areyousureit’sacaseforus?Youknowwhatthesecountrytownrumoursusuallyamountto—justnothingatall.”
“This,”saidHerculePoirot,“isaspecialcase.”
“Ohwell—ifyousayso.Youhavesuchatiresomehabitofbeingright.Butifit’sallamare’snestweshan’tbepleasedwithyou,youknow.”
HerculePoirotsmiledtohimself.Hemurmured:
“No,Ishallbetheonewhoispleased.”
“What’sthatyousay?Can’thear.”
“Nothing.Nothingatall.”
Herangoff.
Emergingintothepostofficeheleanedacrossthecounter.Hesaidinhismostengagingtones:
“Canyoubyanychancetellme,Madame,wherethemaidwhowasformerlywithDr.Oldfield—BeatriceherChristiannamewas—nowresides?”
“BeatriceKing?She’shadtwoplacessincethen.She’swithMrs.MarleyovertheBanknow.”
Poirotthankedher,boughttwopostcards,abookofstampsandapieceoflocalpottery.Duringthepurchase,hecontrivedtobringthedeathofthelateMrs.Oldfieldintotheconversation.Hewasquicktonotethepeculiarfurtiveexpressionthatstoleacrossthepostmistress’sface.Shesaid:
“Verysudden,wasn’tit?It’smadealotoftalkasyoumayhaveheard.”
Agleamofinterestcameintohereyesassheasked:
“Maybethat’swhatyou’dbewantingtoseeBeatriceKingfor?Weallthoughtitoddthewayshewasgotoutofthereallofasudden.Somebodythoughtsheknewsomething—andmaybeshedid.She’sdroppedsomeprettybroadhints.”
BeatriceKingwasashortrathersly-lookinggirlwithadenoids.Shepresentedanappearanceofstolidstupiditybuthereyesweremoreintelligentthanhermannerwouldhaveledonetoexpect.Itseemed,however,thattherewasnothingtobegotoutofBeatriceKing.Sherepeated:
“Idon’tknownothingaboutanything…It’snotformetosaywhatwentonupthere…Idon’tknowwhatyoumeanbyoverhearingaconversationbetwentheDoctorandMissMoncrieffe.I’mnotonetogolisteningtodoors,andyou’venorighttosayIdid.Idon’tknownothing.”
Poirotsaid:
“Haveyoueverheardofpoisoningbyarsenic?”
Aflickerofquickfurtiveinterestcameintothegirl’ssullenface.
Shesaid:
“Sothat’swhatitwasinthemedicinebottle?”
“Whatmedicinebottle?”
Beatricesaid:
“OneofthebottlesofmedicinewhatthatMissMoncrieffemadeupfortheMissus.Nursewasallupset—Icouldseethat.Tastedit,shedid,andsmeltit,andthenpoureditawaydownthesinkandfilledupthebottlewithplainwaterfromthetap.Itwaswhitemedicinelikewater,anyway.Andonce,whenMissMoncrieffetookupapotofteatotheMissus,Nursebroughtitdownagainandmadeitfresh—saidithadn’tbeenmadewithboilingwaterbutthatwasjustmyeye,thatwas!Ithoughtitwasjustthesortoffussingwaynurseshaveatthetime—butIdunno—itmayhavebeenmorethanthat.”
Poirotnodded.Hesaid:
“DidyoulikeMissMoncrieffe,Beatrice?”
“Ididn’tmindher…Abitstandoffish.Ofcourse,Ialwaysknewasshewassweetonthedoctor.You’donlytoseethewayshelookedathim.”
AgainPoirotnoddedhishead.Hewentbacktotheinn.
TherehegavecertaininstructionstoGeorge.
VI
Dr.AlanGarcia,theHomeOfficeAnalyst,rubbedhishandsandtwinkledatHerculePoirot.Hesaid:
“Well,thissuitsyou,M.Poirot,Isuppose?Themanwho’salwaysright.”
Poirotsaid:
“Youaretookind.”
“Whatputyouontoit?Gossip?”
“Asyousay—EnterRumour,paintedfulloftongues.”
ThefollowingdayPoirotoncemoretookatraintoMarketLoughborough.
MarketLoughboroughwasbuzzinglikeabeehive.Ithadbuzzedmildlyeversincetheexhumationproceedings.
Nowthatthefindingsoftheautopsyhadleakedout,excitementhadreachedfeverheat.
Poirothadbeenattheinnforaboutanhourandhadjustfinishedaheartylunchofsteakandkidneypuddingwasheddownbybeerwhenwordwasbroughttohimthataladywaswaitingtoseehim.
ItwasNurseHarrison.Herfacewaswhiteandhaggard.
ShecamestraighttoPoirot.
“Isthistrue?Isthisreallytrue,M.Poirot?”
Heputhergentlyintoachair.
“Yes.Morethansufficientarsenictocausedeathhasbeenfound.”
NurseHarrisoncried:
“Ineverthought—Ineverforonemomentthought—”andburstintotears.
Poirotsaidgently:
“Thetruthhadtocomeout,youknow.”
Shesobbed.
“Willtheyhanghim?”
Poirotsaid:
“Alothastobeprovedstill.Opportunity—accesstopoison—thevehicleinwhichitwasadministered.”
“Butsupposing,M.Poirot,thathehadnothingtodowithit—nothingatall.”
“Inthatcase,”Poirotshruggedhisshoulders,“hewillbeacquitted.”
NurseHarrisonsaidslowly:
“Thereissomething—somethingthat,Isuppose,Ioughttohavetoldyoubefore—butIdidn’tthinkthattherewasreallyanythinginit.Itwasjustqueer.”
“Iknewtherewassomething,”saidPoirot.“Youhadbettertellittomenow.”
“Itisn’tmuch.It’sjustthatonedaywhenIwentdowntothedispensaryforsomething,JeanMoncrieffewasdoingsomethingrather—odd.”
“Yes?”
“Itsoundssosilly.It’sonlythatshewasfillingupherpowdercompact—apinkenamelone—”
“Yes?”
“Butshewasn’tfillingitupwithpowder—withfacepowder,Imean.Shewastippingsomethingintoitfromoneofthebottlesoutofthepoisoncupboard.Whenshesawmeshestartedandshutupthecompactandwhippeditintoherbag—andputbackthebottlequicklyintothecupboardsothatIcouldn’tseewhatitwas.Idaresayitdoesn’tmeananything—butnowthatIknowthatMrs.Oldfieldreallywaspoisoned—”Shebrokeoff.
Poirotsaid:“Youwillexcuseme?”
HewentoutandtelephonedtoDetectiveSergeantGreyoftheBerkshirePolice.
HerculePoirotcamebackandheandNurseHarrisonsatinsilence.
Poirotwasseeingthefaceofagirlwithredhairandhearingaclearhardvoicesay:“Idon’tagree.”JeanMoncrieffehadnotwantedanautopsy.Shehadgivenaplausibleenoughexcuse,butthefactremained.Acompetentgirl—efficient—resolute.Inlovewithamanwhowastiedtoacomplaininginvalidwife,whomighteasilyliveforyearssince,accordingtoNurseHarrison,shehadverylittlethematterwithher
HerculePoirotsighed.
NurseHarrisonsaid:
“Whatareyouthinkingof?”
Poirotanswered:
“Thepityofthings….”
NurseHarrisonsaid:
“Idon’tbelieveforaminuteheknewanythingaboutit.”
Poirotsaid:
“No.Iamsurehedidnot.”
ThedooropenedandDetectiveSergeantGreycamein.Hehadsomethinginhishand,wrappedinasilkhandkerchief.Heunwrappeditandsetitcarefullydown.Itwasabrightrosepinkenamelcompact.
NurseHarrisonsaid:
“That’stheoneIsaw.”
Greysaid:
“FounditpushedrighttothebackofMissMoncrieffe’sbureaudrawer.Insideahandkerchiefsachet.AsfarasIcanseetherearenofingerprintsonit,butI’llbecareful.”
Withthehandkerchiefoverhishandhepressedthespring.Thecaseflewopen.Greysaid:
“Thisstuffisn’tfacepowder.”
Hedippedafingerandtasteditgingerlyonthetipofhistongue.
“Noparticulartaste.”
Poirotsaid:
“Whitearsenicdoesnottaste.”
Greysaid:
“Itwillbeanalysedatonce.”HelookedatNurseHarrison.“Youcansweartothisbeingthesamecase?”
“Yes.I’mpositive.That’sthecaseIsawMissMoncrieffewithinthedispensaryaboutaweekbeforeMrs.Oldfield’sdeath.”
SergeantGreysighed.HelookedatPoirotandnodded.Thelatterrangthebell
“Sendmyservanthere,please.”
George,theperfectvalet,discreet,unobtrusive,enteredandlookedinquiringlyathismaster.
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Youhaveidentifiedthispowdercompact,MissHarrison,asoneyousawinthepossessionofMissMoncrieffeoverayearago.WouldyoubesurprisedtolearnthatthisparticularcasewassoldbyMessrsWoolworthonlyafewweeksagoandthat,moreover,itisofapatternandcolourthathasonlybeenmanufacturedforthelastthreemonths?”
NurseHarrisongasped.ShestaredatPoirot,hereyesroundanddark.Poirotsaid:
“Haveyouseenthiscompactbefore,Georges?”
Georgesteppedforward:
“Yes,sir.Iobservedthisperson,NurseHarrison,purchaseitatWoolworth’sonFridaythe18th.PursuanttoyourinstructionsIfollowedthisladywhenevershewentout.ShetookabusovertoDarningtononthedayIhavementionedandpurchasedthiscompact.Shetookithomewithher.Later,thesameday,shecametothehouseinwhichMissMoncrieffelodges.Actingasbyyourinstructions,Iwasalreadyinthehouse.IobservedhergointoMissMoncrieffe’sbedroomandhidethisinthebackofthebureaudrawer.Ihadagoodviewthroughthecrackofthedoor.Shethenleftthehousebelievingherselfunobserved.Imaysaythatnoonelockstheirfrontdoorsdownhereanditwasdusk.”
PoirotsaidtoNurseHarrison,andhisvoicewashardandvenomous:
“Canyouexplainthesefacts,NurseHarrison?Ithinknot.TherewasnoarsenicinthatboxwhenitleftMessrsWoolworth,buttherewaswhenitleftMissBristow’shouse.”Headdedsoftly,“Itwasunwiseofyoutokeepasupplyofarsenicinyourpossession.”
NurseHarrisonburiedherfaceinherhands.Shesaidinalowdullvoice:
“It’strue—it’salltrue..Ikilledher.Andallfornothing—nothing…Iwasmad.”
VII
JeanMoncrieffesaid:
“Imustaskyoutoforgiveme,M.Poirot.Ihavebeensoangrywithyou—soterriblyangrywithyou.Itseemedtomethatyouweremakingeverythingsomuchworse.”
Poirotsaidwithasmile:
“SoIwastobeginwith.ItislikeintheoldlegendoftheLerneanHydra.Everytimeaheadwascutoff,twoheadsgrewinitsplace.So,tobeginwith,therumoursgrewandmultiplied.Butyouseemytask,likethatofmynamesakeHercules,wastoreachthefirst—theoriginalhead.Whohadstartedthisrumour?ItdidnottakemelongtodiscoverthattheoriginatorofthestorywasNurseHarrison.Iwenttoseeher.Sheappearedtobeaverynicewoman—intelligentandsympathetic.Butalmostatonceshemadeabadmistake—sherepeatedtomeaconversationwhichshehadoverheardtakingplacebetweenyouandthedoctor,andthatconversation,yousee,wasallwrong.Itwaspsychologicallymostunlikely.IfyouandthedoctorhadplannedtogethertokillMrs.Oldfield,youarebothofyoufartoointelligentandlevel-headedtoholdsuchaconversationinaroomwithanopendoor,easilyoverheardbysomeoneonthestairsorsomeoneinthekitchen.Moreover,thewordsattributedtoyoudidnotfitinatallwithyourmentalmakeup.Theywerethewordsofamucholderwomanandofoneofaquitedifferenttype.TheywerewordssuchaswouldbeimaginedbyNurseHarrisonasbeingusedbyherselfinlikecircumstances.
“Ihad,uptothen,regardedthewholematterasfairlysimple.NurseHarrison,Irealized,wasafairlyyoungandstillhandsomewoman—shehadbeenthrowncloselywithDoctorOldfieldfornearlythreeyears—thedoctorhadbeenveryfondofherandgratefultoherforhertactandsympathy.ShehadformedtheimpressionthatifMrs.Oldfielddied,thedoctorwouldprobablyaskhertomarryhim.Insteadofthat,afterMrs.Oldfield’sdeath,shelearnsthatDoctorOldfieldisinlovewithyou.Straightaway,drivenbyangerandjealousy,shestartsspreadingtherumourthatDoctorOldfieldhaspoisonedhiswife.
“That,asIsay,washowIhadvisualizedthepositionatfirst.Itwasacaseofajealouswomanandalyingrumour.Buttheoldtritephrase‘nosmokewithoutfire’recurredtomesignificantly.IwonderedifNurseHarrisonhaddonemorethanspreadarumour.Certainthingsshesaidrangstrangely.ShetoldmethatMrs.Oldfield’sillnesswaslargelyimaginary—thatshedidnotreallysuffermuchpain.Butthedoctorhimselfhadbeeninnodoubtabouttherealityofhiswife’ssuffering.Hehadnotbeensurprisedbyherdeath.Hehadcalledinanotherdoctorshortlybeforeherdeathandtheotherdoctorhadrealizedthegravityofhercondition.TentativelyIbroughtforwardthesuggestionofexhumation…NurseHarrisonwasatfirstfrightenedoutofherwitsbytheidea.Then,almostatonce,herjealousyandhatredtookcommandofher.Letthemfindarsenic—nosuspicionwouldattachtoher.ItwouldbethedoctorandJeanMoncrieffewhowouldsuffer.
“Therewasonlyonehope.TomakeNurseHarrisonoverreachherself.IftherewereachancethatJeanMoncrieffewouldescape,IfanciedthatNurseHarrisonwouldstraineverynervetoinvolveherinthecrime.IgaveinstructionstomyfaithfulGeorges—themostunobtrusiveofmenwhomshedidnotknowbysight.Hewastofollowherclosely.Andso—allendedwell.”
JeanMoncrieffesaid:
“You’vebeenwonderful.”
Dr.Oldfieldchimedin.Hesaid:
“Yes,indeed.Icanneverthankyouenough.WhatablindfoolIwas!”
Poirotaskedcuriously:
“Wereyouasblind,Mademoiselle?”
JeanMoncrieffesaidslowly:
“Ihavebeenterriblyworried.Yousee,thearsenicinthepoisoncupboarddidn’ttally….”
Oldfieldcried:
“Jean—youdidn’tthink—?”
“No,no—notyou.WhatIdidthinkwasthatMrs.Oldfieldhadsomehoworothergotholdofit—andthatshewastakingitsoastomakeherselfillandgetsympathyandthatshehadinadvertentlytakentoomuch.ButIwasafraidthatiftherewasanautopsyandarsenicwasfound,theywouldneverconsiderthattheoryandwouldleaptotheconclusionthatyou’ddoneit.That’swhyIneversaidanythingaboutthemissingarsenic.Ievencookedthepoisonbook!ButthelastpersonIwouldeverhavesuspectedwasNurseHarrison.”
Oldfieldsaid:
“Itoo.Shewassuchagentlewomanlycreature.LikeaMadonna.”
Poirotsaidsadly:
“Yes,shewouldhavemade,probably,agoodwifeandmother…Heremotionswerejustalittletoostrongforher.”Hesighedandmurmuredoncemoreunderhisbreath:
“Thepityofit.”
Thenhesmiledatthehappy-lookingmiddle-agedmanandtheeager-facedgirloppositehim.Hesaidtohimself:
“Thesetwohavecomeoutofitsshadowintothesun…andI—IhaveperformedthesecondLaborofHercules.”
Three
THEARCADIANDEER
HerculePoirotstampedhisfeet,seekingtowarmthem.Heblewuponhisfingers.Flakesofsnowmeltedanddrippedfromthecornersofhismoustache.
Therewasaknockatthedoorandachambermaidappeared.Shewasaslow-breathingthicksetcountrygirlandshestaredwithagooddealofcuriosityatHerculePoirot.Itwaspossiblethatshehadnotseenanythingquitelikehimbefore.
Sheasked:“Didyouring?”
“Idid.Willyoubesogoodastolightafire?”
Shewentoutandcamebackagainimmediatelywithpaperandsticks.ShekneltdowninfrontofthebigVictoriangrateandbegantolayafire.
HerculePoirotcontinuedtostamphisfeet,swinghisarmsandblowonhisfingers.
Hewasannoyed.Hiscar—anexpensiveMessarroGratz—hadnotbehavedwiththatmechanicalperfectionwhichheexpectedofacar.Hischauffeur,ayoungmanwhoenjoyedahandsomesalary,hadnotsucceededinputtingthingsright.Thecarhadstagedafinalrefusalinasecondaryroadamileandahalffromanywherewithafallofsnowbeginning.HerculePoirot,wearinghisusualsmartpatentleathershoes,hadbeenforcedtowalkthatmileandahalftoreachtheriversidevillageofHartlyDene—avillagewhich,thoughshowingeverysignofanimationinsummertime,wascompletelymoribundinwinter.TheBlackSwanhadregisteredsomethinglikedismayatthearrivalofaguest.Thelandlordhadbeenalmosteloquentashepointedoutthatthelocalgaragecouldsupplyacarinwhichthegentlemancouldcontinuehisjourney.
HerculePoirotrepudiatedthesuggestion.HisLatinthriftwasoffended.Hireacar?Healreadyhadacar—alargecar—anexpensivecar.Inthatcarandnootherheproposedtocontinuehisjourneybacktotown.Andinanycase,evenifrepairstoitcouldbequicklyeffected,hewasnotgoingoninthissnowuntilnextmorning.Hedemandedaroom,afireandameal.Sighing,thelandlordshowedhimtotheroom,sentthemaidtosupplythefireandthenretiredtodiscusswithhiswifetheproblemofthemeal.
Anhourlater,hisfeetstretchedouttowardsthecomfortingblaze,HerculePoirotreflectedlenientlyonthedinnerhehadjusteaten.True,thesteakhadbeenbothtoughandfullofgristle,thebrusselssproutshadbeenlarge,pale,anddefinitelywatery,thepotatoeshadhadheartsofstone.Norwastheremuchtobesaidfortheportionofstewedappleandcustardwhichhadfollowed.Thecheesehadbeenhard,andthebiscuitssoft.Nevertheless,thoughtHerculePoirot,lookinggraciouslyattheleapingflames,andsippingdelicatelyatacupofliquidmudeuphemisticallycalledcoffee,itwasbettertobefullthanempty,andaftertrampingsnowboundlanesinpatentleathershoes,tositinfrontofafirewasParadise!
Therewasaknockonthedoorandthechambermaidappeared.
“Please,sir,themanfromthegarageishereandwouldliketoseeyou.”
HerculePoirotrepliedamiably:
“Lethimmount.”
Thegirlgiggledandretired.Poirotreflectedkindlythatheraccountofhimtoherfriendswouldprovideentertainmentformanywinterdaystocome.
Therewasanotherknock—adifferentknock—andPoirotcalled:
“Comein.”
Helookedupwithapprovalattheyoungmanwhoenteredandstoodtherelookingillatease,twistinghiscapinhishands.
Here,hethought,wasoneofthehandsomestspecimensofhumanityhehadeverseen,asimpleyoungmanwiththeoutwardsemblanceofaGreekgod.
Theyoungmansaidinalowhuskyvoice:
“Aboutthecar,sir,we’vebroughtitin.Andwe’vegotatthetrouble.It’samatterofanhour’sworkorso.”
Poirotsaid:
“Whatiswrongwithit?”
Theyoungmanplungedeagerlyintotechnicaldetails.Poirotnoddedhisheadgently,buthewasnotlistening.Perfectphysiquewasathingheadmiredgreatly.Therewere,heconsidered,toomanyratsinspectaclesabout.Hesaidtohimselfapprovingly:“Yes,aGreekgod—ayoungshepherdinArcady.”
Theyoungmanstoppedabruptly.ItwasthenthatHerculePoirot’sbrowsknittedthemselvesforasecond.Hisfirstreactionhadbeen?sthetic,hissecondmental.Hiseyesnarrowedthemselvescuriously,ashelookedup.
Hesaid:
“Icomprehend.Yes,Icomprehend.”Hepausedandthenadded:“Mychauffeur,hehasalreadytoldmethatwhichyouhavejustsaid.”
Hesawtheflushthatcametotheother’scheek,sawthefingersgripthecapnervously.
Theyoungmanstammered:
“Yes—er—yes,sir.Iknow.”
HerculePoirotwentonsmoothly:
“Butyouthoughtthatyouwouldalsocomeandtellmeyourself?”
“Er—yes,sir,IthoughtI’dbetter.”
“That,”saidHerculePoirot,“wasveryconscientiousofyou.Thankyou.”
Therewasafaintbutunmistakablenoteofdismissalinthelastwordsbuthedidnotexpecttheothertogoandhewasright.Theyoungmandidnotmove.
Hisfingersmovedconvulsively,crushingthetweedcap,andhesaidinastilllowerembarrassedvoice:
“Er—excuseme,sir—butit’strue,isn’tit,thatyou’rethedetectivegentleman—you’reMr.HerculesPwarrit?”Hesaidthenameverycarefully.
Poirotsaid:“Thatisso.”
Redcreptuptheyoungman’sface.Hesaid:
“Ireadapieceaboutyouinthepaper.”
“Yes?”
Theboywasnowscarlet.Therewasdistressinhiseyes—distressandappeal.HerculePoirotcametohisaid.Hesaidgently:
“Yes?Whatisityouwanttoaskme?”
Thewordscamewitharushnow.
“I’mafraidyoumaythinkit’sawfulcheekofme,sir.Butyourcomingherebychancelikethis—well,it’stoogoodtobemissed.Havingreadaboutyouandthecleverthingsyou’vedone.Anyway,IsaidasafterallImightaswellaskyou.There’snoharminasking,isthere?”
HerculePoirotshookhishead.Hesaid:
“Youwantmyhelpinsomeway?”
Theothernodded.Hesaid,hisvoicehuskyandembarrassed:
“It’s—it’saboutayounglady.If—ifyoucouldfindherforme.”
“Findher?Hasshedisappeared,then?”
“That’sright,sir.”
HerculePoirotsatupinhischair.Hesaidsharply:
“Icouldhelpyou,perhaps,yes.Buttheproperpeopleforyoutogotoarethepolice.ItistheirjobandtheyhavefarmoreresourcesattheirdisposalthanIhave.”
Theboyshuffledhisfeet.Hesaidawkwardly:
“Icouldn’tdothat,sir.It’snotlikethatatall.It’sallratherpeculiar,sotospeak.”
HerculePoirotstaredathim.Thenheindicatedachair.
“Ehbien,then,sitdown—whatisyourname?”
“Williamson,sir,TedWilliamson.”
“Sitdown,Ted.Andtellmeallaboutit.”
“Thankyousir.”Hedrewforwardthechairandsatdowncarefullyontheedgeofit.Hiseyeshadstillthatappealingdoglikelook.
HerculePoirotsaidgently:
“Tellme.”
TedWilliamsondrewadeepbreath.
“Well,yousee,sir,itwaslikethis.Ineversawherbuttheonce.AndIdon’tknowherrightnamenoranything.Butit’squeerlike,thewholething,andmylettercomingbackandeverything.”
“Start,”saidHerculePoirot,“atthebeginning.Donothurryyourself.Justtellmeeverythingthatoccurred.”
“Yes,sir.Well,perhapsyouknowGrasslawn,sir,thatbighousedownbytheriverpastthebridge?”
“Iknownothingatall.”
“BelongstoSirGeorgeSanderfield,itdoes.Heusesitinthesummertimeforweekendsandparties—ratheragaylothehasdownasarule.Actressesandthat.Well,itwaslastJune—andthewirelesswasoutoforderandtheysentmeuptoseetoit.”
Poirotnodded.
“SoIwentalong.Thegentlemanwasoutontheriverwithhisguestsandthecookwasoutandhismanservanthadgonealongtoservethedrinksandallthatonthelaunch.Therewasonlythisgirlinthehouse—shewasthelady’smaidtooneoftheguests.Sheletmeinandshowedmewherethesetwas,andstayedtherewhileIwasworkingonit.Andsowegottotalkingandallthat…Nitahernamewas,soshetoldme,andshewaslady’smaidtoaRussiandancerwhowasstayingthere.”
“Whatnationalitywasshe,English?”
“No,sir,she’dbeFrench,Ithink.She’dafunnysortofaccent.ButshespokeEnglishallright.She—shewasfriendlyandafterabitIaskedherifshecouldcomeoutthatnightandgotothepictures,butshesaidherladywouldbeneedingher.Butthenshesaidashowshecouldgetoffearlyintheafternoonbecauseashowtheywasn’tgoingtobebackofftherivertilllate.SothelongandtheshortofitwasthatItooktheafternoonoffwithoutasking(andnearlygotthesackforittoo)andwewentforawalkalongbytheriver.”
Hepaused.Alittlesmilehoveredonhislips.Hiseyesweredreamy.Poirotsaidgently:
“Andshewaspretty,yes?”
“Shewasjusttheloveliestthingyoueversaw.Herhairwaslikegold—itwentupeachsidelikewings—andshehadagaykindofwayoftrippingalong.I—I—well,Ifellforherrightaway,sir.I’mnotpretendinganythingelse.”
Poirotnodded.Theyoungmanwenton:
“Shesaidashowherladywouldbecomingdownagaininafortnightandwefixeduptomeetagainthen.”Hepaused.“Butshenevercame.Iwaitedforheratthespotshe’dsaid,butnotasignofher,andatlastImadeboldtogouptothehouseandaskforher.TheRussianladywasstayingthereallrightandhermaidtoo,theysaid.Sentforher,theydid,butwhenshecame,why,itwasn’tNitaatall!Justadarkcatty-lookinggirl—aboldlotifthereeverwasone.Marie,theycalledher.“Youwanttoseeme?”shesays,simperingallover.ShemusthaveseenIwastookaback.IsaidwasshetheRussianlady’smaidandsomethingabouthernotbeingtheoneI’dseenbefore,andthenshelaughedandsaidthatthelastmaidhadbeensentawaysudden.“Sentaway?”Isaid.“Whatfor?”Shesortofshruggedhershouldersandstretchedoutherhands.“HowshouldIknow?”shesaid.“Iwasnotthere.”
“Well,sir,ittookmeaback.AtthemomentIcouldn’tthinkofanythingtosay.ButafterwardsIpluckedupthecourageandIgottoseethisMarieagainandaskedhertogetmeNita’saddress.Ididn’tletontoherthatIdidn’tevenknowNita’slastname.IpromisedherapresentifshedidwhatIasked—shewasthekindaswouldn’tdoanythingforyoufornothing.Well,shegotitallrightforme—anaddressinNorthLondon,itwas,andIwrotetoNitathere—butthelettercamebackafterabit—sentbackthroughthepostofficewithnolongeratthisaddressscrawledonit.”
TedWilliamsonstopped.Hiseyes,thosedeepbluesteadyeyes,lookedacrossatPoirot.Hesaid:
“Youseehowitis,sir?It’snotacaseforthepolice.ButIwanttofindher.AndIdon’tknowhowtosetaboutit.If—ifyoucouldfindherforme.”Hiscolourdeepened.“I’ve—I’veabitputby.Icouldmanagefivepounds—oreventen.”
Poirotsaidgently:
“Weneednotdiscussthefinancialsideforthemoment.Firstreflectonthispoint—thisgirl,thisNita—sheknewyournameandwhereyouworked?”
“Ohyes,sir.”
“Shecouldhavecommunicatedwithyouifshehadwantedto?”
Tedsaidmoreslowly:
“Yes,sir.”
“Thendoyounotthink—perhaps—”
TedWilliamsoninterruptedhim.
“Whatyou’remeaning,sir,isthatIfellforherbutshedidn’tfallforme?Maybethat’strueinaway…Butshelikedme—shedidlikeme—itwasn’tjustabitoffuntoher…AndI’vebeenthinking,sir,astheremightbeareasonforallthis.Yousee,sir,itwasafunnycrowdshewasmixedupin.Shemightbeinabitoftrouble,ifyouknowwhatImean.”
“Youmeanshemighthavebeengoingtohaveachild?Yourchild?”
“Notmine,sir.”Tedflushed.“Therewasn’tnothingwrongbetweenus.”
Poirotlookedathimthoughtfully.Hemurmured:
“Andifwhatyousuggestistrue—youstillwanttofindher?”
ThecoloursurgedupinTedWilliamson’sface.Hesaid:
“Yes,Ido,andthat’sflat!Iwanttomarryherifshe’llhaveme.Andthat’snomatterwhatkindofajamshe’sin!Ifyou’llonlytryandfindherforme,sir?”
HerculePoirotsmiled.Hesaid,murmuringtohimself:
“‘Hairlikewingsofgold.’Yes,IthinkthisisthethirdLaborofHercules…IfIrememberrightly,thathappenedinArcady….”
II
HerculePoirotlookedthoughtfullyatthesheetofpaperonwhichTedWilliamsonhadlaboriouslyinscribedanameandaddress.
MissValetta,17UpperRenfrewLane,N15.
Hewonderedifhewouldlearnanythingatthataddress.Somehowhefanciednot.ButitwastheonlyhelpTedcouldgivehim.
No.17UpperRenfrewLanewasadingybutrespectablestreet.AstoutwomanwithblearyeyesopenedthedoortoPoirot’sknock.
“MissValetta?”
“Goneawayalongtimeago,shehas.”
Poirotadvancedastepintothedoorwayjustasthedoorwasabouttoclose.
“Youcangiveme,perhaps,heraddress?”
“Couldn’tsay,I’msure.Shedidn’tleaveone.”
“Whendidshegoaway?”
“Lastsummeritwas.”
“Canyoutellmeexactlywhen?”
AgentleclickingnoisecamefromPoirot’srighthandwheretwohalfcrownsjostledeachotherinfriendlyfashion.
Thebleary-eyedwomansoftenedinanalmostmagicalmanner.Shebecamegraciousnessitself.
“Well,I’msureI’dliketohelpyou,sir.Letmeseenow.August,no,beforethat—July—yes,Julyitmusthavebeen.AboutthefirstweekinJuly.Wentoffinahurry,shedid.BacktoItaly,Ibelieve.”
“ShewasanItalian,then?”
“That’sright,sir.”
“Andshewasatonetimelady’smaidtoaRussiandancer,wasshenot?”
“That’sright.MadameSemoulinaorsomesuchname.DancedattheThespianinthisBallyeveryone’ssowildabout.Oneofthestars,shewas.”
Poirotsaid:
“DoyouknowwhyMissValettaleftherpost?”
Thewomanhesitatedamomentbeforesaying:
“Icouldn’tsay,I’msure.”
“Shewasdismissed,wasshenot?”
“Well—Ibelievetherewasabitofadustup!Butmindyou,MissValettadidn’tletonmuchaboutit.Shewasn’tonetogivethingsaway.Butshelookedwildaboutit.Wickedtempershehad—realEyetalian—herblackeyesallsnappingandlookingasifshe’dliketoputaknifeintoyou.Iwouldn’thavecrossedherwhenshewasinoneofhermoods!”
“AndyouarequitesureyoudonotknowMissValetta’spresentaddress?”
Thehalfcrownsclinkedagainencouragingly.
Theanswerrangtrueenough.
“IwishIdid,sir.I’dbeonlytoogladtotellyou.Butthere—shewentoffinahurryandthereitis!”
Poirotsaidtohimselfthoughtfully:
“Yes,thereitis….”
III
AmbroseVandel,divertedfromhisenthusiasticaccountofthedécorhewasdesigningforaforthcomingballet,suppliedinformationeasilyenough.
“Sanderfield?GeorgeSanderfield?Nastyfellow.Rollinginmoneybuttheysayhe’sacrook.Darkhorse!Affairwithadancer?Butofcourse,mydear—hehadanaffairwithKatrina.KatrinaSamoushenka.Youmusthaveseenher?Oh,mydear—toodelicious.Lovelytechnique.TheSwanofTuolela—youmusthaveseenthat?Mydécor!AndthatotherthingofDebussyorisitMannine‘LaBicheauBois?’ShedanceditwithMichaelNovgin.He’ssomarvellous,isn’the?”
“AndshewasafriendofSirGeorgeSanderfield?”
“Yes,sheusedtoweekendwithhimathishouseontheriver.MarvellouspartiesIbelievehegives.”
“Woulditbepossible,moncher,foryoutointroducemetoMademoiselleSamoushenka?”
“But,mydear,sheisn’thereanylonger.ShewenttoParisorsomewherequitesuddenly.Youknow,theydosaythatshewasaBolshevikspyorsomething—notthatIbelieveditmyself—youknowpeoplelovesayingthingslikethat.KatrinaalwayspretendedthatshewasaWhiteRussian—herfatherwasaPrinceoraGrandDuke—theusualthing!Itgoesdownsomuchbetter.”Vandelpausedandreturnedtotheabsorbingsubjectofhimself.“NowasIwassaying,ifyouwanttogetthespiritofBathshebayou’vegottosteepyourselfintheSemitictradition.Iexpressitby—”
Hecontinuedhappily.
IV
TheinterviewthatHerculePoirotmanagedtoarrangewithSirGeorgeSanderfielddidnotstarttooauspiciously.
The“darkhorse,”asAmbroseVandelhadcalledhim,wasslightlyillatease.SirGeorgewasashortsquaremanwithdarkcoarsehairandarolloffatinhisneck.
Hesaid:
“Well,M.Poirot,whatcanIdoforyou?Er—wehaven’tmetbefore,Ithink?”
“No,wehavenotmet.”
“Well,whatisit?Iconfess,I’mquitecurious.”
“Oh,itisverysimple—amerematterofinformation.”
Theothergaveanuneasylaugh.
“Wantmetogiveyousomeinsidedope,eh?Didn’tknowyouwereinterestedinfinance.”
“Itisnotamatteroflesaffaires.Itisaquestionofacertainlady.”
“Oh,awoman.”SirGeorgeSanderfieldleantbackinhisarmchair.Heseemedtorelax.Hisvoiceheldaneasiernote
Poirotsaid:
“Youwereacquainted,Ithink,withMademoiselleKatrinaSamoushenka?”
Sanderfieldlaughed.
“Yes.Anenchantingcreature.Pityshe’sleftLondon.”
“WhydidsheleaveLondon?”
“Mydearfellow,Idon’tknow.Rowwiththemanagement,Ibelieve.Shewastemperamental,youknow—veryRussianinhermoods.I’msorrythatIcan’thelpyoubutIhaven’ttheleastideawheresheisnow.Ihaven’tkeptupwithheratall.”
Therewasanoteofdismissalinhisvoiceasherosetohisfeet.
Poirotsaid:
“ButisnotMademoiselleSamoushenkathatIamanxioustotrace.”
“Isn’tit?”
“No,itisaquestionofhermaid.”
“Hermaid?”Sanderfieldstaredathim.
Poirotsaid:
“Doyou—perhaps—rememberhermaid?”
AllSanderfield’suneasinesshadreturned.Hesaidawkwardly:
“GoodLord,no,howshouldI?Iremembershehadone,ofcourse…Bitofabadlot,too,Ishouldsay.Sneaking,pryingsortofgirl.IfIwereyouIshouldn’tputanyfaithinawordthatgirlsays.She’sthekindofgirlwho’sabornliar.”
Poirotmurmured:
“Soactually,yourememberquitealotabouther?”
Sanderfieldsaidhastily:
“Justanimpression,that’sall…Don’tevenrememberhername.Letmesee,Mariesomethingorother—no,I’mafraidIcan’thelpyoutogetholdofher.Sorry.”
Poirotsaidgently:
“IhavealreadygotthenameofMarieHellinfromtheThespianTheatre—andheraddress.ButIamspeaking,SirGeorge,ofthemaidwhowaswithMademoiselleSamoushenkabeforeMarieHellin.IamspeakingofNitaValetta.”
Sanderfieldstared.Hesaid:
“Don’trememberheratall.Marie’stheonlyoneIremember.Littledarkgirlwithanastylookinhereye.”
Poirotsaid:
“ThegirlImeanwasatyourhouseGrasslawnlastJune.”
Sanderfieldsaidsulkily:
“Well,allIcansayisIdon’trememberher.Don’tbelieveshehadamaidwithher.Ithinkyou’remakingamistake.”
HerculePoirotshookhishead.Hedidnotthinkhewasmakingamistake.
V
MarieHellinlookedswiftlyatPoirotoutofsmallintelligenteyesandasswiftlylookedawayagain.Shesaidinsmooth,eventones:
“ButIrememberperfectly,Monsieur.IwasengagedbyMadameSamoushenkathelastweekinJune.Herformermaidhaddepartedinahurry.”
“Didyoueverhearwhythatmaidleft?”
“Shewent—suddenly—thatisallIknow!Itmayhavebeenillness—somethingofthatkind.Madamedidnotsay.”
Poirotsaid:
“Didyoufindyourmistresseasytogetonwith?”
Thegirlshruggedhershoulders.
“Shehadgreatmoods.Sheweptandlaughedinturns.Sometimesshewassodespondentshewouldnotspeakoreat.Sometimesshewaswildlygay.Theyarelikethat,thesedancers.Itistemperament.”
“AndSirGeorge?”
Thegirllookedupalertly.Anunpleasantgleamcameintohereyes.
“Ah,SirGeorgeSanderfield?Youwouldliketoknowabouthim?Perhapsitisthatthatyoureallywanttoknow?Theotherwasonlyanexcuse,eh?Ah,SirGeorge,Icouldtellyousomecuriousthingsabouthim,Icouldtellyou—”
Poirotinterrupted:
“Itisnotnecessary.”
Shestaredathim,hermouthopen.Angrydisappointmentshowedinhereyes.
VI
“Ialwayssayyouknoweverything,AlexisPavlovitch.”
HerculePoirotmurmuredthewordswithhismostflatteringintonation.
HewasreflectingtohimselfthathisthirdLaborofHerculeshadnecessitatedmoretravellingandmoreinterviewsthancouldhavebeenimaginedpossible.Thislittlematterofamissinglady’smaidwasprovingoneofthelongestandmostdifficultproblemshehadevertackled.Everyclue,whenexamined,ledexactlynowhere.
IthadbroughthimthiseveningtotheSamovarRestaurantinPariswhoseproprietor,CountAlexisPavlovitch,pridedhimselfonknowingeverythingthatwentonintheartisticworld.
Henoddednowcomplacently:
“Yes,yes,myfriend,Iknow—Ialwaysknow.Youaskmewheresheisgone—thelittleSamoushenka,theexquisitedancer?Ah!shewastherealthing,thatlittleone.”Hekissedhisfingertips.“Whatfire—whatabandon!Shewouldhavegonefar—shewouldhavebeenthePremièreBallerinaofherday—andthensuddenlyitallends—shecreepsaway—totheendoftheworld—andsoon,ah!sosoon,theyforgether.”
“Whereisshethen?”demandedPoirot.
“InSwitzerland.AtVagraylesAlpes.Itistherethattheygo,thosewhohavethelittledrycoughandwhogrowthinnerandthinner.Shewilldie,yes,shewilldie!Shehasafatalisticnature.Shewillsurelydie.”
Poirotcoughedtobreakthetragicspell.Hewantedinformation.
“Youdonot,bychance,rememberamaidshehad?AmaidcalledNitaValetta?”
“Valetta?Valetta?Irememberseeingamaidonce—atthestationwhenIwasseeingKatrinaofftoLondon.ShewasanItalianfromPisa,wasshenot?Yes,IamsureshewasanItalianwhocamefromPisa.”
HerculePoirotgroaned.
“Inthatcase,”hesaid,“ImustnowjourneytoPisa.”
VII
HerculePoirotstoodintheCampoSantoatPisaandlookeddownonagrave.
Soitwasherethathisquesthadcometoanend—herebythishumblemoundofearth.UnderneathitlaythejoyouscreaturewhohadstirredtheheartandimaginationofasimpleEnglishmechanic.
Wasthisperhapsthebestendtothatsuddenstrangeromance?Nowthegirlwouldlivealwaysintheyoungman’smemoryashehadseenherforthosefewenchantedhoursofaJuneafternoon.Theclashofopposingnationalities,ofdifferentstandards,thepainofdisillusionment,allthatwasruledoutforever.
HerculePoirotshookhisheadsadly.HismindwentbacktohisconversationwiththeValettafamily.Themother,withherbroadpeasantface,theuprightgrief-strickenfather,thedarkhard-lippedsister.
“Itwassudden,Signor,itwasverysudden.Thoughformanyyearsshehadhadpainsonandoff…Thedoctorgaveusnochoice—hesaidtheremustbeanoperationimmediatelyfortheappendicitis.Hetookherofftothehospitalthenandthere…Si,si,itwasunderthean?stheticshedied.Sheneverrecoveredconsciousness.”
Themothersniffed,murmuring:
“Biancawasalwayssuchaclevergirl.Itisterriblethatsheshouldhavediedsoyoung….”
HerculePoirotrepeatedtohimself:
“Shediedyoung….”
Thatwasthemessagehemusttakebacktotheyoungmanwhohadaskedhishelpsoconfidingly.
“Sheisnotforyou,myfriend.Shediedyoung.”
Hisquesthadended—herewheretheleaningTowerwassilhouettedagainsttheskyandthefirstspringflowerswereshowingpaleandcreamywiththeirpromiseoflifeandjoytocome.
Wasitthestirringofspringthatmadehimfeelsorebelliouslydisinclinedtoacceptthisfinalverdict?Orwasitsomethingelse?Somethingstirringatthebackofhisbrain—words—aphrase—aname?Didnotthewholethingfinishtooneatly—dovetailtooobviously?
HerculePoirotsighed.Hemusttakeonemorejourneytoputthingsbeyondanypossibledoubt.HemustgotoVagraylesAlpes.
VIII
Here,hethought,reallywastheworld’send.Thisshelfofsnow—thesescatteredhutsandsheltersineachofwhichlayamotionlesshumanbeingfightinganinsidiousdeath.
SohecameatlasttoKatrinaSamoushenka.Whenhesawher,lyingtherewithhollowcheeksineachofwhichwasavividredstain,andlongthinemaciatedhandsstretchedoutonthecoverlet,amemorystirredinhim.Hehadnotrememberedhername,buthehadseenherdance—hadbeencarriedawayandfascinatedbythesupremeartthatcanmakeyouforgetart.
HerememberedMichaelNovgin,theHunter,leapingandtwirlinginthatoutrageousandfantasticforestthatthebrainofAmbroseVandelhadconceived.AndherememberedthelovelyflyingHind,eternallypursued,eternallydesirable—agoldenbeautifulcreaturewithhornsonherheadandtwinklingbronzefeet.Herememberedherfinalcollapse,shotandwounded,andMichaelNovginstandingbewildered,withthebodyoftheslaindeerinhisarms.
KatrinaSamoushenkawaslookingathimwithfaintcuriosity.Shesaid:
“Ihaveneverseenyoubefore,haveI?Whatisityouwantofme?”
HerculePoirotmadeheralittlebow.
“First,Madame,Iwishtothankyou—foryourartwhichmadeformeonceaneveningofbeauty.”
Shesmiledfaintly.
“ButalsoIamhereonamatterofbusiness.Ihavebeenlooking,Madame,foralongtimeforacertainmaidofyours—hernamewasNita.”
“Nita?”
Shestaredathim.Hereyeswerelargeandstartled.Shesaid:
“Whatdoyouknowabout—Nita?”
“Iwilltellyou.”
HetoldheroftheeveningwhenhiscarhadbrokendownandofTedWilliamsonstandingtheretwistinghiscapbetweenhisfingersandstammeringouthisloveandhispain.Shelistenedwithcloseattention.
Shesaidwhenhehadfinished:
“Itistouching,that—yes,itistouching….”
HerculePoirotnodded.
“Yes,”hesaid.“ItisataleofArcady,isitnot?Whatcanyoutellme,Madame,ofthisgirl?”
KatrinaSamoushenkasighed.
“Ihadamaid—Juanita.Shewaslovely,yes—gay,lightofheart.Ithappenedtoherwhathappenssooftentothosethegodsfavour.Shediedyoung.”
TheyhadbeenPoirot’sownwords—finalwords—irrevocablewords—Nowheheardthemagain—andyethepersisted.Heasked:
“Sheisdead?”
“Yes,sheisdead.”
HerculePoirotwassilentforaminute,thenhesaid:
“ThereisonethingIdonotquiteunderstand.IaskedSirGeorgeSanderfieldaboutthismaidofyoursandheseemedafraid.Whywasthat?”
Therewasafaintexpressionofdisgustonthedancer’sface.
“Youjustsaidamaidofmine.HethoughtyoumeantMarie—thegirlwhocametomeafterJuanitaleft.Shetriedtoblackmailhim,Ibelieve,oversomethingthatshefoundoutabouthim.Shewasanodiousgirl—inquisitive,alwayspryingintolettersandlockeddrawers.”
Poirotmurmured:
“Thenthatexplainsthat.”
Hepausedaminute,thenhewenton,stillpersistent:
“Juanita’sothernamewasValettaandshediedofanoperationforappendicitisinPisa.Isthatcorrect?”
Henotedthehesitation,hardlyperceptiblebutneverthelessthere,beforethedancerbowedherhead.
“Yes,thatisright….”
Poirotsaidmeditatively:
“Andyet—thereisstillalittlepoint—herpeoplespokeofher,notasJuanitabutasBianca.”
Katrinashruggedherthinshoulders.Shesaid:“Bianca—Juanita,doesitmatter?IsupposeherrealnamewasBiancabutshethoughtthenameofJuanitawasmoreromanticandsochosetocallherselfbyit.”
“Ah,youthinkthat?”Hepausedandthen,hisvoicechanging,hesaid:“Forme,thereisanotherexplanation.”
“Whatisit?”
Poirotleanedforward.Hesaid:
“ThegirlthatTedWilliamsonsawhadhairthathedescribedasbeinglikewingsofgold.”
Heleanedstillalittlefurtherforward.HisfingerjusttouchedthetwospringingwavesofKatrina’shair.
“Wingsofgold,hornsofgold?Itisasyoulookatit,itiswhetheroneseesyouasdevilorasangel!Youmightbeeither.Oraretheyperhapsonlythegoldenhornsofthestrickendeer?”
Katrinamurmured:
“Thestrickendeer…”andhervoicewasthevoiceofonewithouthope.
Poirotsaid:
“AllalongTedWilliamson’sdescriptionhasworriedme—itbroughtsomethingtomymind—thatsomethingwasyou,dancingonyourtwinklingbronzefeetthroughtheforest.ShallItellyouwhatIthink,Mademoiselle?Ithinktherewasaweekwhenyouhadnomaid,whenyouwentdownalonetoGrasslawn,forBiancaValettahadreturnedtoItalyandyouhadnotyetengagedanewmaid.Alreadyyouwerefeelingtheillnesswhichhassinceovertakenyou,andyoustayedinthehouseonedaywhentheotherswentonanalldayexcursionontheriver.Therewasaringatthedoorandyouwenttoitandyousaw—shallItellyouwhatyousaw?Yousawayoungmanwhowasassimpleasachildandashandsomeasagod!Andyouinventedforhimagirl—notJuanita—butIncognita—andforafewhoursyouwalkedwithhiminArcady….”
Therewasalongpause.ThenKatrinasaidinalowhoarsevoice:
“InonethingatleastIhavetoldyouthetruth.Ihavegivenyoutherightendtothestory.Nitawilldieyoung.”
“Ahnon!”HerculePoirotwastransformed.Hestruckhishandonthetable.Hewassuddenlyprosaic,mundane,practical.
Hesaid:
“Itisquiteunnecessary!Youneednotdie.Youcanfightforyourlife,canyounot,aswellasanother?”
Sheshookherhead—sadly,hopelessly—
“Whatlifeisthereforme?”
“Notthelifeofthestage,bienentendu!Butthink,thereisanotherlife.Comenow,Mademoiselle,behonest,wasyourfatherreallyaPrinceoraGrandDuke,orevenaGeneral?”
Shelaughedsuddenly.Shesaid:
“HedrovealorryinLeningrad!”
“Verygood!Andwhyshouldyounotbethewifeofagaragehandinacountryvillage?Andhavechildrenasbeautifulasgods,andwithfeet,perhaps,thatwilldanceasyouoncedanced.”
Katrinacaughtherbreath.
“Butthewholeideaisfantastic!”
“Nevertheless,”saidHerculePoirotwithgreatself-satisfaction,“Ibelieveitisgoingtocometrue!”
Four
THEERYMANTHIANBOAR
TheaccomplishmentofthethirdLaborofHerculeshavingbroughthimtoSwitzerland,HerculePoirotdecidedthatbeingthere,hemighttakeadvantageofthefactandvisitcertainplaceswhichwereuptonowunknowntohim.
HepassedanagreeablecoupleofdaysatChamonix,lingeredadayortwoatMontreuxandthenwentontoAndermatt,aspotwhichhehadheardvariousfriendspraisehighly.
Andermatt,however,affectedhimunpleasantly.Itwasattheendofavalleywithtoweringsnow-peakedmountainsshuttingitin.Hefelt,unreasonably,thatitwasdifficulttobreathe.
“Impossibletoremainhere,”saidHerculePoirottohimself.Itwasatthatmomentthathecaughtsightofafunicularrailway.“Decidedly,Imustmount.”
Thefunicular,hediscovered,ascendedfirsttoLesAvines,thentoCaurouchetandfinallytoRochersNeiges,tenthousandfeetabovesealevel.
Poirotdidnotproposemountingashighasallthat.LesAvines,hethought,wouldbequitesufficientlyhisaffair.
Butherehereckonedwithoutthatelementofchancewhichplayssolargeapartinlife.ThefunicularhadstartedwhentheconductorapproachedPoirotanddemandedhisticket.Afterhehadinspecteditandpuncheditwithafearsomepairofclippers,hereturneditwithabow.AtthesametimePoirotfeltasmallwadofpaperpressedintohishandwiththeticket.
TheeyebrowsofHerculePoirotrosealittleonhisforehead.Presently,unostentatiously,withouthurryinghimself,hesmoothedoutthewadofpaper.Itprovedtobeahurriedlyscribblednotewritteninpencil.
Impossible(itran)tomistakethosemoustaches!Isaluteyou,mydearcolleague.Ifyouarewilling,youcanbeofgreatassistancetome.YouhavedoubtlessreadoftheaffaireSalley?Thekiller—Marrascaud—isbelievedtohavearendezvouswithsomemembersofhisgangatRochersNeiges—ofallplacesintheworld!Ofcoursethewholethingmaybeablague—butourinformationisreliable—thereisalwayssomeonewhosqueals,istherenot?Sokeepyoureyesopen,myfriend.GetintouchwithInspectorDrouetwhoisonthespot.Heisasoundman—buthecannotpretendtothebrillianceofHerculePoirot.Itisimportant,myfriend,thatMarrascaudshouldbetaken—andtakenalive.Heisnotaman—heisawildboar—oneofthemostdangerouskillersalivetoday.IdidnotriskspeakingtoyouatAndermattasImighthavebeenobservedandyouwillhaveafreerhandifyouarethoughttobeameretourist.Goodhunting!Youroldfriend—Lementeuil.
Thoughtfully,HerculePoirotcaressedhismoustaches.Yes,indeed,impossibletomistakethemoustachesofHerculePoirot.Nowwhatwasallthis?Hehadreadinthepapersthedetailsofl’affaireSalley—thecold-bloodedmurderofawell-knownParisianbookmaker.Theidentityofthemurdererwasknown.Marrascaudwasamemberofawell-knownracecoursegang.Hehadbeensuspectedofmanyotherkillings—butthistimehisguiltwasproveduptothehilt.Hehadgotaway,outofFranceitwasthought,andthepoliceineverycountryinEuropewereonthelookoutforhim.
SoMarrascaudwassaidtohavearendezvousatRochersNeiges….
HerculePoirotshookhisheadslowly.Hewaspuzzled.ForRochersNeigeswasabovethesnowline.Therewasahotelthere,butitcommunicatedwiththeworldonlybythefunicular,standingasitdidonalongnarrowledgeoverhangingthevalley.ThehotelopenedinJune,buttherewasseldomanyonethereuntilJulyandAugust.Itwasaplaceill-suppliedwithentrancesandexits—ifamanweretrackedthere,hewascaughtinatrap.Itseemedafantasticplacetochooseastherendezvousofagangofcriminals.
Andyet,ifLementeuilsaidhisinformationwasreliable,thenLementeuilwasprobablyright.HerculePoirotrespectedtheSwissCommissionaireofPolice.Heknewhimasasoundanddependableman.
SomereasonunknownwasbringingMarrascaudtothismeetingplacefarabovecivilization.
HerculePoirotsighed.Tohuntdownaruthlesskillerwasnothisideaofapleasantholiday.Brainworkfromanarmchair,hereflected,wasmoreinhisline.Nottoensnareawildboaruponamountainside.
Awildboar—thatwasthetermLementeuilhadused.Itwascertainlyanoddcoincidence.
Hemurmuredtohimself:“ThefourthLaborofHercules.TheErymanthianBoar?”
Quietly,withoutostentation,hetookcarefulstockofhisfellowpassengers.
OntheseatoppositehimwasanAmericantourist.Thepatternofhisclothes,ofhisovercoat,thegriphecarried,downtohishopefulfriendlinessandhisna?veabsorptioninthescenery,eventheguidebookinhishand,allgavehimawayandproclaimedhimasmalltownAmericanseeingEuropeforthefirsttime.Inanotherminuteortwo,Poirotjudged,hewouldbreakintospeech.Hiswistfuldoglikeexpressioncouldnotbemistaken.
Ontheothersideofthecarriageatall,ratherdistinguished-lookingmanwithgreyishhairandabigcurvednosewasreadingaGermanbook.Hehadthestrongmobilefingersofamusicianorasurgeon.
Fartherawaystillwerethreemenallofthesametype.Menwithbowedlegsandanindescribablesuggestionofhorsinessaboutthem.Theywereplayingcards.Presently,perhaps,theywouldsuggestastrangercuttinginonthegame.Atfirstthestrangerwouldwin.Afterwards,theluckwouldruntheotherway.
Nothingveryunusualaboutthethreemen.Theonlythingthatwasunusualwastheplacewheretheywere.
Onemighthaveseentheminanytrainonthewaytoaracemeeting—oronanunimportantliner.Butinanalmostemptyfunicular—no!
Therewasoneotheroccupantofthecarriage—awoman.Shewastallanddark.Itwasabeautifulface—afacethatmighthaveexpressedawholegamutofemotion—butwhichinsteadwasfrozenintoastrangeinexpressiveness.Shelookedatnoone,staringoutatthevalleybelow.
Presently,asPoirothadexpected,theAmericanbegantotalk.Hisname,hesaid,wasSchwartz.ItwashisfirstvisittoEurope.Thescenery,hesaid,wasjustgrand.He’dbeenverydeeplyimpressedbytheCastleofChillon.Hedidn’tthinkmuchofParisasacity—overrated—he’dbeentotheFoliesBergèresandtheLouvreandN?treDame—andhe’dnoticedthatnoneoftheserestaurantsandcaféscouldplayhotjazzproperly.TheChampsElysées,hethought,wasprettygood,andhelikedthefountainsespeciallywhentheywerefloodlit.
NobodygotoutatLesAvinesoratCaurouchet.ItwasclearthateveryoneinthefunicularwasgoinguptoRochersNeiges.
Mr.Schwartzexplainedhisownreasons.Hehadalwayswished,hesaid,tobehighupamongsnowmountains.Tenthousandfeetwasprettygood—he’dheardthatyoucouldn’tboilaneggproperlywhenyouwereashighupasthat.
Intheinnocentfriendlinessofhisheart,Mr.Schwartzendeavouredtodrawthetall,grey-hairedmanontheothersideofthecarriageintotheconversation,butthelattermerelystaredathimcoldlyoverhispince-nezandreturnedtotheperusalofhisbook.
Mr.Schwartzthenofferedtoexchangeplaceswiththedarklady—shewouldgetabetterview,heexplained.
ItwasdoubtfulwhethersheunderstoodEnglish.Anyway,shemerelyshookherheadandshrankcloserintothefurcollarofhercoat.
Mr.SchwartzmurmuredtoPoirot:
“Seemskindofwrongtoseeawomantravellingaboutalonewithnoonetoseetothingsforher.Awomanneedsalotoflookingafterwhenshe’stravelling.”
RememberingcertainAmericanwomenhehadmetontheContinent,HerculePoirotagreed.
Mr.Schwartzsighed.Hefoundtheworldunfriendly.Andsurely,hisbrowneyessaidexpressively,there’snoharminalittlefriendlinessallround?
II
Tobereceivedbyahotelmanagercorrectlygarbedinfrockcoatandpatentleathershoesseemedsomehowludicrousinthisoutoftheworld,orratherabove-the-world,spot.
Themanagerwasabighandsomeman,withanimportantmanner.Hewasveryapologetic.
Soearlyintheseason…thehot-watersystemwasoutoforder…thingswerehardlyinrunningorder…Naturally,hewoulddoeverythinghecould…Notafullstaffyet…Hewasquiteconfusedbytheunexpectednumberofvisitors.
ItallcamerollingoutwithprofessionalurbanityandyetitseemedtoPoirotthatbehindtheurbanefa?adehecaughtaglimpseofsomepoignantanxiety.Thisman,forallhiseasymanner,wasnotatease.Hewasworriedaboutsomething
Lunchwasservedinalongroomoverlookingthevalleyfarbelow.Thesolitarywaiter,addressedasGustave,wasskilfulandadroit.Hedartedhereandthere,advisingonthemenu,whippingouthiswinelist.Thethreehorsymensatatatabletogether.TheylaughedandtalkedinFrench,theirvoicesrising.
GoodoldJoseph!—WhataboutthelittleDenise,monvieux?—DoyourememberthatsacrépigofahorsethatletusalldownatAuteuil?
Itwasallveryhearty,verymuchincharacter—andincongruouslyoutofplace!
Thewomanwiththebeautifulfacesataloneatatableinthecorner.Shelookedatnoone.
Afterwards,asPoirotwassittinginthelounge,themanagercametohimandwasconfidential.
Monsieurmustnotjudgethehoteltoohardly.Itwasoutoftheseason.NoonecameheretilltheendofJuly.Thatlady,Monsieurhadnoticedher,perhaps?Shecameatthistimeeveryyear.Herhusbandhadbeenkilledclimbingthreeyearsago.Itwasverysad.Theyhadbeenverydevoted.Shecameherealwaysbeforetheseasoncommenced—soastobequiet.Itwasasacredpilgrimage.Theelderlygentlemanwasafamousdoctor,Dr.KarlLutz,fromVienna.Hehadcomehere,sohesaid,forquietandrepose.
“Itispeaceful,yes,”agreedHerculePoirot.“AndcesMessieursthere?”Heindicatedthethreehorsymen.“Dotheyalsoseekrepose,doyouthink?”
Themanagershruggedhisshoulders.Againthereappearedinhiseyesthatworriedlook.Hesaidvaguely:
“Ah,thetourists,theywishalwaysanewexperience…Thealtitude—thataloneisanewsensation.”
Itwasnot,Poirotthought,averypleasantsensation.Hewasconsciousofhisownrapidlybeatingheart.Thelinesofanurseryrhymeranidioticallythroughhismind.“Upabovetheworldsohigh,Likeateatrayinthesky.”
Schwartzcameintothelounge.HiseyesbrightenedwhenhesawPoirot.Hecameovertohimatonce.
“I’vebeentalkingtothatdoctor.HespeaksEnglishafterafashion.He’saJew—beenturnedoutofAustriabytheNazis.Say,Iguessthosepeoplearejustcrazy!ThisDoctorLutzwasquiteabigman,Igather—nervespecialist—psychoanalysis—thatkindofstuff.”
Hiseyeswenttowherethetallwomanwaslookingoutofawindowatremorselessmountains.Heloweredhisvoice.
“Igothernamefromthewaiter.She’saMadameGrandier.Herhusbandwaskilledclimbing.That’swhyshecomeshere.Isortoffeel,don’tyou,thatweoughttodosomethingaboutit—trytotakeheroutofherself?”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“IfIwereyouIshouldnotattemptit.”
ButthefriendlinessofMr.Schwartzwasindefatigable.
Poirotsawhimmakehisovertures,sawtheremorselesswayinwhichtheywererebuffed.Thetwostoodtogetherforaminutesilhouettedagainstthelight.ThewomanwastallerthanSchwartz.Herheadwasthrownbackandherexpressionwascoldandforbidding.
Hedidnothearwhatshesaid,butSchwartzcamebacklookingcrestfallen.
“Nothingdoing,”hesaid.Headdedwistfully:“Seemstomethataswe’reallhumanbeingstogetherthere’snoreasonweshouldn’tbefriendlytooneanother.Don’tyouagree,Mr.—Youknow,Idon’tknowyourname?”
“Myname,”saidPoirot,“isPoirier.”Headded:“IamasilkmerchantfromLyons.”
“I’dliketogiveyoumycard,M.Poirier,andifeveryoucometoFountainSpringsyou’llbesureofawelcome.”
Poirotacceptedthecard,clappedhishandtohisownpocket,murmured:
“Alas,Ihavenotacardonmeatthemoment….”
Thatnight,whenhewenttobed,PoirotreadthroughLementeuil’slettercarefully,beforereplacingit,neatlyfolded,inhiswallet.Ashegotintobedhesaidtohimself:
“Itiscurious—Iwonderif….”
III
GustavethewaiterbroughtHerculePoirothisbreakfastofcoffeeandrolls.Hewasapologeticoverthecoffee.
“Monsieurcomprehends,doeshenot,thatatthisaltitudeitisimpossibletohavethecoffeereallyhot?Lamentably,itboilstoosoon.”
Poirotmurmured:
“OnemustacceptthesevagariesofNature’swithfortitude.”
Gustavemurmured:
“Monsieurisaphilosopher.”
Hewenttothedoor,butinsteadofleavingtheroom,hetookonequicklookoutside,thenshutthedooragainandreturnedtothebedside.Hesaid:
“M.HerculePoirot?IamDrouet,InspectorofPolice.”
“Ah,”saidPoirot,“Ihadalreadysuspectedasmuch.”
Drouetloweredhisvoice.
“M.Poirot,somethingverygravehasoccurred.Therehasbeenanaccidenttothefunicular!”
“Anaccident?”Poirotsatup.“Whatkindofanaccident?”
“Nobodyhasbeeninjured.Ithappenedinthenight.Itwasoccasioned,perhaps,bynaturalcauses—asmallavalanchethatsweptdownbouldersandrocks.Butitispossiblethattherewashumanagencyatwork.Onedoesnotknow.Inanycasetheresultisthatitwilltakemanydaystorepairandthatinthemeantimewearecutoffuphere.Soearlyintheseason,whenthesnowisstillheavy,itisimpossibletocommunicatewiththevalleybelow.”
HerculePoirotsatupinbed.Hesaidsoftly:
“Thatisveryinteresting.”
TheInspectornodded.
“Yes,”hesaid.“Itshowsthatourcommissaire’sinformationwascorrect.Marrascaudhasarendezvoushere,andhehasmadesurethatthatrendezvousshallnotbeinterrupted.”
HerculePoirotcriedimpatiently:
“Butitisfantastic!”
“Iagree.”InspectorDrouetthrewuphishands.“Itdoesnotmakethecommonsense—butthereitis.ThisMarrascaud,youknow,isafantasticcreature!Myself,”henodded,“Ithinkheismad.”
Poirotsaid:
“Amadmanandamurderer!”
Drouetsaiddrily:
“Itisnotamusing.Iagree.”
Poirotsaidslowly:
“Butifhehasarendezvoushere,onthisledgeofsnowhighabovetheworld,thenitalsofollowsthatMarrascaudhimselfisherealready,sincecommunicationsarenowcut.”
Drouetsaidquietly:
“Iknow.”
Bothmenweresilentforaminuteortwo.ThenPoirotasked:
“Dr.Lutz?CanhebeMarrascaud?”
Drouetshookhishead.
“Idonotthinkso.ThereisarealDr.Lutz—Ihaveseenhispicturesinthepapers—adistinguishedandwell-knownman.Thismanresemblesthesephotographsclosely.”
Poirotmurmured:
“IfMarrascaudisanartistindisguise,hemightplaythepartsuccessfully.”
“Yes,butishe?Ineverheardofhimasanexpertindisguise.Hehasnottheguileandcunningofaserpent.Heisawildboar,ferocious,terrible,whochargesinblindfury.”
Poirotsaid:
“Allthesame….”
Drouetagreedquickly.
“Ahyes,heisafugitivefromjustice.Thereforeheisforcedtodissemble.Sohemay—infacthemustbe—moreorlessdisguised.”
“Youhavehisdescription?”
Theothershruggedhisshoulders.
“Roughlyonly.TheofficialBertillonphotographandmeasurementsweretohavebeensentuptometoday.Iknowonlythatheisamanofthirtyodd,ofalittleovermediumheightandofdarkcomplexion.Nodistinguishingmarks.”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Thatcouldapplytoanybody.WhatabouttheAmerican,Schwartz?”
“Iwasgoingtoaskyouthat.Youhavespokenwithhim,andyouhavelived,Ithink,muchwiththeEnglishandtheAmericans.ToacasualglanceheappearstobethenormaltravellingAmerican.Hispassportisinorder.Itisperhapsstrangethatheshouldelecttocomehere—butAmericanswhentravellingarequiteincalculable.Whatdoyouthinkyourself?”
HerculePoirotshookhisheadinperplexity.
Hesaid:
“Onthesurface,atanyrate,heappearstobeaharmlessslightlyover-friendly,man.Hemightbeabore,butitseemsdifficulttoregardhimasadanger.”Hewenton:“Buttherearethreemorevisitorshere.”
TheInspectornodded,hisfacesuddenlyeager.
“Yes,andtheyarethetypewearelookingfor.I’lltakemyoath,M.Poirot,thatthosethreemenareatanyratemembersofMarrascaud’sgang.They’reracecoursetoughsifIeversawthem!andoneofthethreemaybeMarrascaudhimself.”
HerculePoirotreflected.Herecalledthethreefaces.
Onewasabroadfacewithoverhangingbrowsandafatjowl—ahoggish,bestialface.Onewasleanandthinwithasharpnarrowfaceandcoldeyes.Thethirdmanwasapasty-facedfellowwithaslightdandiacalair.
Yes,oneofthethreemightwellbeMarrascaud,butifso,thequestioncameinsistently,why?WhyshouldMarrascaud,andtwomembersofhisgangjourneytogetherandascendintoarattraponamountainside?Ameetingsurelycouldbearrangedinsaferandlessfantasticsurroundings—inacafé—inarailwaystation—inacrowdedcinema—inapublicpark—somewherewheretherewereexitsinplenty—notherefarabovetheworldinawildernessofsnow.
SomethingofthishetriedtoconveytoInspectorDrouetandthelatteragreedreadilyenough.
“Butyes,itisfantastic,itdoesnotmakesense.”
“Ifitisarendezvous,whydotheytraveltogether?No,indeed,itdoesnotmakesense.”
Drouetsaid,hisfaceworried:
“Inthatcase,wehavetoexamineasecondsupposition.ThesethreemenaremembersofMarrascaud’sgangandtheyhavecomeheretomeetMarrascaudhimself.WhothenisMarrascaud?”
Poirotasked:
“Whataboutthestaffofthehotel?”
Drouetshruggedhisshoulders.
“Thereisnostafftospeakof.Thereisanoldwomanwhocooks,thereisheroldhusbandJacques—theyhavebeenhereforfiftyyearsIshouldthink.ThereisthewaiterwhoseplaceIhavetaken,thatisall.”
Poirotsaid:
“Themanager,heknowsofcoursewhoyouare?”
“Naturally.Itneededhiscooperation.”
“Hasitstruckyou,”saidHerculePoirot,“thathelooksworried?”
TheremarkseemedtostrikeDrouet.Hesaidthoughtfully:
“Yes,thatistrue.”
“Itmaybethatitismerelytheanxietyofbeinginvolvedinpoliceproceedings.”
“Butyouthinkitmaybemorethanthat?Youthinkthathemay—knowsomething?”
“Itoccurredtome,thatisall.”
Drouetsaidsombrely:“Iwonder.”
Hepausedandthenwenton:
“Couldonegetitoutofhim,doyouthink?”
Poirotshookhisheaddoubtfully.Hesaid:
“Itwouldbebetter,Ithink,nottolethimknowofoursuspicions.Keepyoureyeonhim,thatisall.”
Drouetnodded.Heturnedtowardsthedoor.
“You’venosuggestions,M.Poirot?I—Iknowyourreputation.Wehaveheardofyouinthiscountryofours.”
Poirotsaidperplexedly:
“ForthemomentIcansuggestnothing.Itisthereasonwhichescapesme—thereasonforarendezvousinthisplace.Infact,thereasonforarendezvousatall?”
“Money,”saidDrouetsuccinctly.
“Hewasrobbed,then,aswellasmurdered,thispoorfellowSalley?”
“Yes,hehadaverylargesumofmoneyonhimwhichhasdisappeared.”
“Andtherendezvousisforthepurposeofsharingout,youthink?”
“Itisthemostobviousidea.”
Poirotshookhisheadinadissatisfiedmanner.
“Yes,butwhyhere?”Hewentonslowly:“Theworstplacepossibleforarendezvousofcriminals.Butitisaplace,this,whereonemightcometomeetawoman….”
Drouettookastepforwardeagerly.
Hesaidexcitedly:
“Youthink—?”
“Ithink,”saidPoirot,“thatMadameGrandierisaverybeautifulwoman.Ithinkthatanyonemightwellmounttenthousandfeetforhersake—thatis,ifshehadsuggestedsuchathing.”
“Youknow,”saidDrouet,“that’sinteresting.Ineverthoughtofherinconnectionwiththecase.Afterall,she’sbeentothisplaceseveralyearsrunning.”
Poirotsaidgently:
“Yes—andthereforeherpresencewouldnotcausecomment.Itwouldbeareason,woulditnot,whyRochersNeigesshouldhavebeenthespotselected?”
Drouetsaidexcitedly:
“You’vehadanidea,M.Poirot.I’lllookintothatangle.”
IV
Thedaypassedwithoutincident.Fortunatelythehotelwaswellprovisioned.Themanagerexplainedthatthereneedbenoanxiety.Supplieswereassured.
HerculePoirotendeavouredtogetintoconversationwithDr.KarlLutzandwasrebuffed.Thedoctorintimatedplainlythatpsychologywashisprofessionalpreoccupationandthathewasnotgoingtodiscussitwithamateurs.HesatinacornerreadingalargeGermantomeonthesubconsciousandmakingcopiousnotesandannotations.
HerculePoirotwentoutsideandwanderedaimlesslyroundtothekitchenpremises.ThereheenteredintoconversationwiththeoldmanJacques,whowassurlyandsuspicious.Hiswife,thecook,wasmoreforthcoming.Fortunately,sheexplainedtoPoirot,therewasalargereserveoftinnedfood—butsheherselfthoughtlittleoffoodintins.Itwaswickedlyexpensiveandwhatnourishmentcouldtherebeinit?ThegoodGodhadneverintendedpeopletoliveoutoftins.
Theconversationcameroundtothesubjectofthehotelstaff.EarlyinJulythechambermaidsandtheextrawaitersarrived.Butforthenextthreeweeks,therewouldbenobodyornexttonobody.Mostlypeoplewhocameupandhadlunchandthenwentbackagain.SheandJacquesandonewaitercouldmanagethateasily.
Poirotasked:
“TherewasalreadyawaiterherebeforeGustavecame,wastherenot?”
“Butyes,indeed,apoorkindofawaiter.Noskill,noexperience.Noclassatall.”
“HowlongwasheherebeforeGustavereplacedhim?”
“Afewdaysonly—theinsideofaweek.Naturallyhewasdismissed.Wewerenotsurprised.Itwasboundtocome.”
Poirotmurmured:
“Hedidnotcomplainunduly?”
“Ahno,hewentquietlyenough.Afterall,whatcouldheexpect?Thisisahotelofgoodclass.Onemusthaveproperservicehere.”
Poirotnodded.Heasked:
“Wheredidhego?”
“ThatRobert,youmean?”Sheshruggedhershoulders.“Doubtlessbacktotheobscurecaféhecamefrom.”
“Hewentdowninthefunicular?”
Shelookedathimcuriously.
“Naturally,Monsieur.Whatotherwayistheretogo?”
Poirotasked:
“Didanyoneseehimgo?”
Theybothstaredathim.
“Ah!doyouthinkitlikelythatonegoestoseeoffananimallikethat—thatonegiveshimthegrandfarewell?Onehasone’sownaffairstooccupyone.”
“Precisely,”saidHerculePoirot.
Hewalkedslowlyaway,staringupashedidsoatthebuildingabovehim.Alargehotel—withonlyonewingopenatpresent.Intheotherwingsweremanyrooms,closedandshutteredwherenoonewaslikelytoenter….
Hecameroundthecornerofthehotelandnearlyranintooneofthethreecard-playingmen.Itwastheonewiththepastyfaceandpaleeyes.TheeyeslookedatPoirotwithoutexpression.Onlythelipscurledbackalittleshowingtheteethlikeavicioushorse.
Poirotpassedhimandwenton.Therewasafigureaheadofhim—thetallgracefulfigureofMadameGrandier.
Hehastenedhispacealittleandcaughtherup.Hesaid:
“Thisaccidenttothefunicular,itisdistressing.Ihope,Madame,thatithasnotinconveniencedyou?”
Shesaid:
“Itisamatterofindifferencetome.”
Hervoicewasverydeep—afullcontralto.ShedidnotlookatPoirot.Sheswervedasideandwentintothehotelbyasmallsidedoor.
V
HerculePoirotwenttobedearly.Hewasawakenedsometimeaftermidnight.
Someonewasfumblingwiththelockofthedoor.
Hesatup,puttingonthelight.Atthesamemomentthelockyieldedtomanipulationandthedoorswungopen.Threemenstoodthere,thethreecard-playingmen.Theywere,Poirotthought,slightlydrunk.Theirfaceswerefoolishandyetmalevolent.Hesawthegleamofarazorblade.
Thebigthicksetmanadvanced.Hespokeinagrowlingvoice.
“Sacredpigofadetective!Bah!”
Heburstintoatorrentofprofanity.Thethreeofthemadvancedpurposefullyonthedefencelessmaninthebed.
“We’llcarvehimup,boys.Eh,littlehorses?We’llslashMonsieurDetective’sfaceopenforhim.Hewon’tbethefirstonetonight.”
Theycameon,steady,purposeful—therazorbladesflashed….
Andthen,startlinginitscrisptransatlantictones,avoicesaid:
“Stick’emup.”
Theyswervedround.Schwartz,dressedinapeculiarlyvividsetofstripedpyjamasstoodinthedoorway.Inhishandheheldanautomatic.”
“Stick’emup,guys.I’mprettygoodatshooting.”
Hepressedthetrigger—andabulletsangpastthebigman’searandburieditselfinthewoodworkofthewindow.
Threepairsofhandswereraisedrapidly.
Schwartzsaid:“CanItroubleyou,M.Poirier?”
HerculePoirotwasoutofbedinaflash.Hecollectedthegleamingweaponsandpassedhishandsoverthethreemen’sbodiestomakesurethattheywerenotarmed.
Schwartzsaid:
“Nowthen,march!There’sabigcupboardjustalongthecorridor.Nowindowinit.Justthething.”
Hemarchedthemintoitandturnedthekeyonthem.HeswungroundtoPoirot,hisvoicebreakingwithpleasurableemotion.
“Ifthatdoesn’tjustshow?Doyouknow,M.Poirier,therewerefolksinFountainSpringswholaughedatmebecauseIsaidIwasgoingtotakeagunabroadwithme.‘Wheredoyouthinkyou’regoing?’theyasked.‘Intothejungle?’Well,sir,I’dsaythelaughiswithme.Didyoueverseesuchanuglybunchoftoughs?”
Poirotsaid:
“MydearMr.Schwartz,youappearedinthenickoftime.Itmighthavebeenadramaonthestage!Iamverymuchinyourdebt.”
“That’snothing.Wheredowegofromhere?Weoughttoturntheseboysovertothepoliceandthat’sjustwhatwecan’tdo!It’saknottyproblem.Maybewe’dbetterconsultthemanager.”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Ah,themanager.Ithinkfirstwewillconsultthewaiter—Gustave—aliasInspectorDrouet.Butyes—thewaiterGustaveisreallyadetective.”
Schwartzstaredathim.
“Sothat’swhytheydidit!”
“Thatiswhywhodidwhat?”
“Thisbunchofcrooksgottoyousecondonthelist.They’dalreadycarvedupGustave.”
“What?”
“Comewithme.Thedoc’sbusyonhimnow.”
Drouet’sroomwasasmalloneonthetopfloor.Dr.Lutz,inadressing-gown,wasbusybandagingtheinjuredman’sface.
Heturnedhisheadastheyentered.
“Ah!Itisyou,Mr.Schwartz?Anastybusiness,this.Whatbutchers!Whatinhumanmonsters!”
Drouetlaystill,moaningfaintly.
Schwartzasked:“Isheindanger?”
“Hewillnotdieifthatiswhatyoumean.Buthemustnotspeak—theremustbenoexcitement.Ihavedressedthewounds—therewillbenoriskofseptic?mia.”
Thethreemenlefttheroomtogether.SchwartzsaidtoPoirot:
“DidyousayGustavewasapoliceofficer?”
HerculePoirotnodded.
“ButwhatwashedoingupatRochersNeiges?”
“Hewasengagedintrackingdownaverydangerouscriminal.”
InafewwordsPoirotexplainedthesituation.
Dr.Lutzsaid:
“Marrascaud?Ireadaboutthecaseinthepaper.Ishouldmuchliketomeetthatman.Thereissomedeepabnormalitythere!Ishouldliketoknowtheparticularsofhischildhood.”
“Formyself,”saidHerculePoirot.“Ishouldliketoknowexactlywhereheisatthisminute.”
Schwartzsaid:
“Isn’theoneofthethreewelockedinthecupboard?”
Poirotsaidinadissatisfiedvoice:
“Itispossible—yes,butme,Iamnotsure…Ihaveanidea—”
Hebrokeoff,staringdownatthecarpet.Itwasofalightbuffcolourandthereweremarksonitofadeeprustybrown.
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Footsteps—footstepsthathavetrodden,Ithink,inbloodandtheyleadfromtheunusedwingofthehotel.Come—wemustbequick!”
Theyfollowedhim,throughaswingdoorandalongadim,dustycorridor.Theyturnedthecornerofit,stillfollowingthemarksonthecarpetuntilthetracksledthemtoahalf-opendoorway.
Poirotpushedthedooropenandentered
Heutteredasharp,horrifiedexclamation.
Theroomwasabedroom.Thebedhadbeensleptinandtherewasatrayoffoodonthetable.
Inthemiddleofthefloorlaythebodyofaman.Hewasofjustovermiddleheightandhehadbeenattackedwithsavageandunbelievableferocity.Therewereadozenwoundsonhisarmsandchestandhisheadandfacehadbeenbatteredalmosttoapulp.
Schwartzgaveahalf-stifledexclamationandturnedawaylookingasthoughhemightbesick.
Dr.LutzutteredahorrifiedexclamationinGerman.
Schwartzsaidfaintly:
“Whoisthisguy?Doesanyoneknow?”
“Ifancy,”saidPoirot,“thathewasknownhereasRobert,aratherunskilfulwaiter….”
Lutzhadgonenearer,bendingoverthebody.Hepointedwithafinger.
Therewasapaperpinnedtothedeadman’sbreast.Ithadsomewordsscrawledonitinink.
Marrascaudwillkillnomore—norwillherobhisfriends!
Schwartzejaculated:
“Marrascaud?SothisisMarrascaud!Butwhatbroughthimupheretothisoutofthewayspot?AndwhydoyousayhisnameisRobert?”
Poirotsaid:
“Hewasheremasqueradingasawaiter—andbyallaccountshewasaverybadwaiter.Sobadthatnoonewassurprisedwhenhewasgiventhesack.Heleft—presumablytoreturntoAndermatt.Butnobodysawhimgo.”
Lutzsaidinhisslowrumblingvoice:
“So—andwhatdoyouthinkhappened?”
Poirotreplied:
“Ithinkwehaveheretheexplanationofacertainworriedexpressiononthehotelmanager’sface.Marrascaudmusthaveofferedhimabigbribetoallowhimtoremainhiddenintheunusedpartofthehotel….”
Headdedthoughtfully:“Butthemanagerwasnothappyaboutit.Ohno,hewasnothappyatall.”
“AndMarrascaudcontinuedtoliveinthisunusedwingwithnoonebutthemanagerknowingaboutit?”
“Soitseems.Itwouldbequitepossible,youknow.”
Dr.Lutzsaid:
“Andwhywashekilled?Andwhokilledhim?”
Schwartzcried:
“That’seasy.Hewastoshareoutthemoneywithhisgang.Hedidn’t.Hedouble-crossedthem.Hecamehere,tothisoutofthewayplace,tolielowforawhile.Hethoughtitwasthelastplaceintheworldthey’deverthinkof.Hewaswrong.Somehoworothertheygotwisetoitandfollowedhim.”Hetouchedthedeadbodywiththetipofhisshoe.“Andtheysettledhisaccount—likethis.”
HerculePoirotmurmured:
“Yes,itwasnotquitethekindofrendezvouswethought.”
Dr.Lutzsaidirritably:
“Thesehowsandwhysmaybeveryinteresting,butIamconcernedwithourpresentposition.Herewehaveadeadman.Ihaveasickmanonmyhandsandalimitedamountofmedicalsupplies.Andwearecutofffromtheworld!Forhowlong?”
Schwartzadded:
“Andwe’vegotthreemurdererslockedinacupboard!It’swhatI’dcallkindofaninterestingsituation.”
Dr.Lutzsaid:
“Whatdowedo?”
Poirotsaid:
“First,wegetholdofthemanager.Heisnotacriminal,thatone,onlyamanwhowasgreedyformoney.Heisacoward,too.Hewilldoeverythingwetellhim.MygoodfriendJacques,orhiswife,willperhapsprovidesomecord.Ourthreemiscreantsmustbeplacedwherewecanguardtheminsafetyuntilthedaywhenhelpcomes.IthinkthatMr.Schwartz’sautomaticwillbeeffectiveincarryingoutanyplanswemaymake.”
Dr.Lutzsaid:
“AndI?WhatdoIdo?”
“You,doctor,”saidPoirotgravely,“willdoallyoucanforyourpatient.Therestofuswillemployceaselessvigilance—andwait.Thereisnothingelsewecando.”
VI
Itwasthreedayslaterthatalittlepartyofmenappearedinfrontofthehotelintheearlyhoursofthemorning.
ItwasHerculePoirotwhoopenedthefrontdoortothemwithaflourish.
“Welcome,monvieux.”
MonsieurLementeuil,CommissaireofPolice,seizedPoirotbybothhands.
“Ah,myfriend,withwhatemotionIgreetyou!Whatstupendousevents—whatemotionsyouhavepassedthrough!Andwebelow,ouranxiety,ourfears—knowingnothing—fearingeverything.Nowireless—nomeansofcommunication.Toheliograph,thatwasindeedastrokeofgeniusonyourpart.”
“No,no,”Poirotendeavouredtolookmodest.“Afterall,whentheinventionsofmanfail,onefallsbackuponnature.Thereisalwaysthesuninthesky.”
Thelittlepartyfiledintothehotel.Lementeuilsaid:
“Wearenotexpected?”Hissmilewassomewhatgrim.
Poirotsmiledalso.Hesaid:
“Butno!Itisbelievedthatthefunicularisnotnearlyrepairedyet.”
Lementeuilsaidwithemotion:
“Ah,thisisagreatday.Thereisnodoubt,youthink?ItisreallyMarrascaud?”
“ItisMarrascaudallright.Comewithme.”
Theywentupthestairs.AdooropenedandSchwartzcameoutinhisdressinggown.Hestaredwhenhesawthemen.
“Iheardvoices,”heexplained.“Why,what’sthis?”
HerculePoirotsaidgrandiloquently:
“Helphascome!Accompanyus,monsieur.Thisisagreatmoment.”
Hestartedupthenextflightofstairs
Schwartzsaid:
“AreyougoinguptoDrouet?Howishe,bytheway?”
“Dr.Lutzreportedhimgoingonwelllastnight.”
TheycametothedoorofDrouet’sroom.Poirotflungitopen.Heannounced:
“Hereisyourwildboar,gentlemen.Takehimaliveandseetoitthathedoesnotcheattheguillotine.”
Themaninthebed,hisfacestillbandaged,startedup.Butthepoliceofficershadhimbythearmsbeforehecouldmove.
Schwartzcriedbewildered:
“Butthat’sGustavethewaiter—that’sInspectorDrouet.”
“ItisGustave,yes—butitisnotDrouet.Drouetwasthefirstwaiter,thewaiterRobertwhowasimprisonedintheunusedpartofthehotelandwhomMarrascaudkilledthesamenightastheattackwasmadeonme.”
VII
Overbreakfast,PoirotexplainedgentlytothebewilderedAmerican.
“Youcomprehend,therearecertainthingsoneknows—knowsquitecertainlyinthecourseofone’sprofession.Oneknows,forinstance,thedifferencebetweenadetectiveandamurderer!Gustavewasnowaiter—thatIsuspectedatonce—butequallyhewasnotapoliceman.IhavedealtwithpolicemenallmylifeandIknow.Hecouldpassasadetectivetoanoutsider—butnottoamanwhowasapolicemanhimself.
“Andso,atonce,Iwassuspicious.Thatevening,Ididnotdrinkmycoffee.Ipoureditaway.AndIwaswise.Latethateveningamancameintomyroom,cameinwiththeeasyconfidenceofonewhoknowsthatthemanwhoseroomheissearchingisdrugged.Helookedthroughmyaffairsandhefoundtheletterinmywallet—whereIhadleftitforhim
Schwartzsaid:
“Thedamnfoolthingwasevertocomehere!Whydidhe?”
Poirotsaidgravely:
“Itisnotsofoolishasyouthink.Hehadneed,urgentneed,ofaretiredspot,awayfromtheworld,wherehecouldmeetacertainperson,andwhereacertainhappeningcouldtakeplace.”
“Whatperson?”
“Dr.Lutz.”
“Dr.Lutz?Isheacrooktoo?”
“Dr.LutzisreallyDr.Lutz—butheisnotanervespecialist—notapsychoanalyst.Heisasurgeon,myfriend,asurgeonwhospecializesinfacialsurgery.ThatiswhyhewastomeetMarrascaudhere.Heispoornow,turnedoutofhiscountry.Hewasofferedahugefeetomeetamanhereandchangethatman’sappearancebymeansofhissurgicalskill.Hemayhaveguessedthatthatmanwasacriminal,butifso,heshuthiseyestothefact.Realizethis,theydarednotriskanursinghomeinsomeforeigncountry.No,uphere,wherenooneevercomessoearlyintheseasonexceptforanoddvisit,wherethemanagerisamaninneedofmoneywhocanbebribed,wasanidealspot.
“But,asIsay,matterswentwrong.Marrascaudwasbetrayed.Thethreemen,hisbodyguard,whoweretomeethimhereandlookafterhimhadnotyetarrived,butMarrascaudactsatonce.ThepoliceofficerwhoispretendingtobeawaiteriskidnappedandMarrascaudtakeshisplace.Thegangarrangeforthefuniculartobewrecked.Itisamatteroftime.ThefollowingeveningDrouetiskilledandapaperispinnedonthedeadbody.ItishopedthatbythetimethatcommunicationsareestablishedwiththeworldDrouet’sbodymayhavebeenburiedasthatofMarrascaud.Dr.Lutzperformshisoperationwithoutdelay.Butonemanmustbesilenced—HerculePoirot.Sothegangaresenttoattackme.Thankstoyou,myfriend—”
HerculePoirotbowedgracefullytoSchwartzwhosaid:
“Soyou’rereallyHerculePoirot?”
“Precisely.”
“Andyouwereneverfooledbythatbodyforaminute?Youknewallalongthatitwasn’tMarrascaud?”
“Certainly.”
“Whydidn’tyousayso?”
HerculePoirot’sfacewassuddenlystern.
“BecauseIwantedtobequitesureofhandingtherealMarrascaudovertothepolice.”
Hemurmuredbelowhisbreath:
“TocapturealivethewildboarofErymanthea..”
Five
THEAUGEANSTABLES
“Thesituationisanextremelydelicateone,M.Poirot.”
AfaintsmileflittedacrossHerculePoirot’slips.Healmostreplied:
“Italwaysis!”
Instead,hecomposedhisfaceandputonwhatmightbedescribedasabedsidemannerofextremediscretion.
SirGeorgeConwayproceededweightily.Phrasesfelleasilyfromhislips—theextremedelicacyoftheGovernment’sposition—theinterestsofthepublic—thesolidarityoftheParty—thenecessityofpresentingaunitedfront—thepowerofthePress—thewelfareoftheCountry….
Itallsoundedwell—andmeantnothing.HerculePoirotfeltthatfamiliarachingofthejawwhenonelongstoyawnandpolitenessforbids.Hehadfeltthesamesometimeswhenreadingtheparliamentarydebates.Butonthoseoccasionstherehadbeennoneedtorestrainhisyawns.
Hesteeledhimselftoendurepatiently.Hefelt,atthesametime,asympathyforSirGeorgeConway.Themanobviouslywantedtotellhimsomething—andasobviouslyhadlosttheartofsimplenarration.Wordshadbecometohimameansofobscuringfacts—notofrevealingthem.Hewasanadeptintheartoftheusefulphrase—thatistosaythephrasethatfallssoothinglyontheearandisquiteemptyofmeaning.
Thewordsrolledon—poorSirGeorgebecamequiteredintheface.Heshotadesperateglanceattheothermansittingattheheadofthetable,andtheothermanresponded.
EdwardFerriersaid:
“Allright,George.I’lltellhim.”
HerculePoirotshiftedhisgazefromtheHomeSecretarytothePrimeMinister.HefeltakeeninterestinEdwardFerrier—aninterestarousedbyachancephrasefromanoldmanofeighty-two.ProfessorFergusMacLeod,afterdisposingofachemicaldifficultyintheconvictionofamurderer,hadtouchedforamomentonpolitics.OntheretirementofthefamousandbelovedJohnHammett(nowLordCornworthy)hisson-in-law,EdwardFerrier,hadbeenaskedtoformaCabinet.Aspoliticiansgohewasayoungman—underfifty.ProfessorMacLeodhadsaid:“Ferrierwasonceoneofmystudents.He’sasoundman.”
Thatwasall,buttoHerculePoirotitrepresentedagooddeal.IfMacLeodcalledamansounditwasatestimonialtocharactercomparedwithwhichnopopularorpressenthusiasmcountedatall.
Itcoincided,itwastrue,withthepopularestimate.EdwardFerrierwasconsideredsound—justthat—notbrilliant,notgreat,notaparticularlyeloquentorator,notamanofdeeplearning.Hewasasoundman—amanbredinthetradition—amanwhohadmarriedJohnHammett’sdaughter—whohadbeenJohnHammett’sright-handmanandwhocouldbetrustedtocarryonthegovernmentofthecountryintheJohnHammetttradition
ForJohnHammettwasparticularlydeartothepeopleandPressofEngland.HerepresentedeveryqualitywhichwasdeartoEnglishmen.Peoplesaidofhim:“OnedoesfeelthatHammett’shonest.”Anecdotesweretoldofhissimplehomelife,ofhisfondnessforgardening.CorrespondingtoBaldwin’spipeandChamberlain’sumbrella,therewasJohnHammett’sraincoat.Healwayscarriedit—aweather-worngarment.Itstoodasasymbol—oftheEnglishclimate,oftheprudentforethoughtoftheEnglishrace,oftheirattachmenttooldpossessions.Moreover,inhisbluffBritishway,JohnHammettwasanorator.Hisspeeches,quietlyandearnestlydelivered,containedthosesimplesentimentalclichéswhicharesodeeplyrootedintheEnglishheart.Foreignerssometimescriticizethemasbeingbothhypocriticalandunbearablynoble.JohnHammettdidnotintheleastmindbeingnoble—inasporting,publicschool,deprecatingfashion.
Moreover,hewasamanoffinepresence,tall,upstanding,withfaircolouringandverybrightblueeyes.HismotherhadbeenaDaneandhehimselfhadbeenformanyyearsFirstLordoftheAdmiralty,whichgaverisetohisnicknameof“theViking.”Whenatlastill-healthforcedhimtogiveupthereinsofoffice,deepuneasinesswasfelt.Whowouldsucceedhim?ThebrilliantLordCharlesDelafield?(Toobrilliant—Englanddidn’tneedbrilliance.)EvanWhittler?(Clever—butperhapsalittleunscrupulous.)JohnPotter?(ThesortofmanwhomightfancyhimselfasDictator—andwedidn’twantanydictatorsinthiscountry,thankyouverymuch.)SoasighofreliefwentupwhenthequietEdwardFerrierassumedoffice.Ferrierwasallright.HehadbeentrainedbytheOldMan,hehadmarriedtheOldMan’sdaughter.IntheclassicBritishphrase,Ferrierwould“carryon.”
HerculePoirotstudiedthequietdark-facedmanwiththelowpleasantvoice.Leananddarkandtired-looking.
EdwardFerrierwassaying:
“Perhaps,M.Poirot,youareacquaintedwithaweeklyperiodicalcalledtheX-rayNews?”
“Ihaveglancedatit,”admittedPoirot,blushingslightly.
ThePrimeMinistersaid:
“Thenyouknowmoreorlessofwhatitconsists.Semilibellousmatter.Snappyparagraphshintingatsensationalsecrethistory.Someofthemtrue,someofthemharmless—butallservedupinaspicymanner.Occasionally—”
Hepausedandthensaid,hisvoicealteringalittle:
“Occasionallysomethingmore.”
HerculePoirotdidnotspeak.Ferrierwenton:
“Fortwoweeksnowtherehavebeenhintsofimpendingdisclosuresofafirst-classscandalin‘thehighestpoliticalcircles.’‘Astonishingrevelationsofcorruptionandjobbery.’”
HerculePoirotsaid,shrugginghisshoulders:
“Acommontrick.Whentheactualrevelationscometheyusuallydisappointthecraversaftersensationbadly.”
Ferriersaiddrily:“Thesewillnotdisappointthem.”
HerculePoirotasked:
“Youknowthen,whattheserevelationsaregoingtobe?”
“Withafairamountofaccuracy.”
EdwardFerrierpausedaminute,thenhebeganspeaking.Carefully,methodically,heoutlinedthestory.
Itwasnotanedifyingstory.Accusationsofshamelesschicanery,ofsharejuggling,ofagrossmisuseofPartyFunds.ThechargeswerelevelledagainstthelatePrimeMinister,JohnHammett.Theyshowedhimtobeadishonestrascal,agiganticconfidencetrickster,whohadusedhispositiontoamassforhimselfavastprivatefortune.
ThePrimeMinister’squietvoicestoppedatlast.TheHomeSecretarygroaned.Hesplutteredout:
“It’smonstrous—monstrous!Thisfellow,Perry,whoeditstherag,oughttobeshot!”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Theseso-calledrevelationsaretoappearintheX-rayNews?”
“Yes.”
“Whatstepsdoyouproposetotakeaboutthem?”
Ferriersaidslowly:
“TheyconstituteaprivateattackonJohnHammett.Itisopentohimtosuethepaperforlibel.”
“Willhedothat?”
“No.”
“Whynot?”
Ferriersaid:
“ItisprobablethatthereisnothingtheX-rayNewswouldlikebetter.Thepublicitygiventhemwouldbeenormous.Theirdefencewouldbefaircommentandthatthestatementscomplainedofweretrue.Thewholebusinesswouldbeexhaustivelyhelduptoviewinablazeoflimelight.”
“Still,ifthecasewentagainstthem,thedamageswouldbeextremelyheavy.”
Ferriersaidslowly:“Itmightnotgoagainstthem.”
“Why?”
SirGeorgesaidprimly:“Ireallythinkthat—”
ButEdwardFerrierwasalreadyspeaking
“Becausewhattheyintendtoprintis—thetruth.”
AgroanburstfromSirGeorgeConway,outragedatsuchun-Parliamentaryfrankness.Hecriedout:
“Edward,mydearfellow.Wedon’tadmit,surely—”
TheghostofasmilepassedoverEdwardFerrier’stiredface.Hesaid:
“Unfortunately,George,therearetimeswhenthestarktruthhasgottobetold.Thisisoneofthem.”
SirGeorgeexclaimed:
“Youunderstand,M.Poirot,allthisisstrictlyinconfidence.Notoneword—”
Ferrierinterruptedhim.Hesaid:
“M.Poirotunderstandsthat.”Hewentonslowly,“Whathemaynotunderstandisthis:thewholefutureofthePeople’sPartyisatstake.JohnHammett,M.Poirot,wasthePeople’sParty.HestoodforwhatitrepresentstothepeopleofEngland—hestoodforDecencyandHonesty.Noonehaseverthoughtusbrilliant.Wehavemuddledandblundered.Butwehavestoodforthetraditionofdoingone’sbest—andwehavestood,too,forfundamentalhonesty.Ourdisasteristhis—thatthemanwhowasourfigurehead,theHonestManofthePeople,parexcellence—turnsouttohavebeenoneoftheworstcrooksofthisgeneration.”
AnothergroanburstfromSirGeorge.
Poirotasked:
“Youknewnothingofallthis?”
Againthesmileflashedacrossthewearyface.Ferriersaid:
“Youmaynotbelieveme,M.Poirot,butlikeeveryoneelse,Iwascompletelydeceived.Ineverunderstoodmywife’scuriousattitudeofreservetowardsherfather.Iunderstanditnow.Sheknewhisessentialcharacter.”
Hepausedandthensaid:
“Whenthetruthbegantoleakout,Iwashorrified,incredulous.Weinsistedonmyfather-in-law’sresignationonthegroundsofill-healthandwesettoworkto—tocleanupthemess,shallIsay?”
SirGeorgegroaned.
“TheAugeanStables!”
Poirotstarted.
Ferriersaid:
“Itwillprove,Ifear,tooHerculeanataskforus.Oncethefactsbecomepublic,therewillbeawaveofreactionalloverthecountry.TheGovernmentwillfall.TherewillbeaGeneralElectionandinallprobabilityEverhardandhispartywillbereturnedtopower.YouknowEverhard’spolicy.”
SirGeorgespluttered.
“Afirebrand—acompletefirebrand.”
Ferriersaidgravely:
“Everhardhasability—butheisreckless,belligerentandutterlytactless.Hissupportersareineptandvacillating—itwouldbepracticallyaDictatorship.”
HerculePoirotnodded.
SirGeorgebleatedout:
“Ifonlythewholethingcanbehushedup….”
Slowly,thePremiershookhishead.Itwasamovementofdefeat.
Poirotsaid:
“Youdonotbelievethatitcanbehushedup?”
Ferriersaid:
“Isentforyou,M.Poirot,asalasthope.Inmyopinionthisbusinessistoobig,toomanypeopleknowaboutit,forittobesuccessfullyconcealed.Theonlytwomethodsopentouswhichare,toputitbluntly,theuseofforce,ortheadoptionofbribery—cannotreallyhopetosucceed.TheHomeSecretarycomparedourtroubleswiththecleansing
“Itneeds,infact,aHercules,”saidPoirot,noddinghisheadwithapleasedexpression.
Headded:“Myname,remember,isHercule….”
EdwardFerriersaid:
“Canyouperformmiracles,M.Poirot?”
“Itiswhyyousentforme,isitnot?BecauseyouthoughtthatImight?”
“Thatistrue…Irealizedthatifsalvationwastobeachieved,itcouldonlycomethroughsomefantasticandcompletelyunorthodoxsuggestion.”
Hepausedaminute,thenhesaid:
“Butperhaps,M.Poirot,youtakeanethicalviewofthesituation?JohnHammettwasacrook,thelegendofJohnHammettmustbeexploded.Canonebuildanhonesthouseondishonestfoundations?Idonotknow.ButIdoknowthatIwanttotry.”Hesmiledwithasuddensharpbitterness.“Thepoliticianwantstoremaininoffice—asusualfromthehighestmotives.”
HerculePoirotrose.Hesaid:
“Monsieur,myexperienceinthepoliceforcehasnot,perhaps,allowedmetothinkveryhighlyofpoliticians.IfJohnHammettwereinoffice—Iwouldnotliftafinger—no,notalittlefinger.ButIknowsomethingaboutyou.Ihavebeentold,byamanwhoisreallygreat,oneofthegreatestscientistsandbrainsoftheday,thatyouare—asoundman.IwilldowhatIcan.”
Hebowedandlefttheroom.
SirGeorgeburstout:
“Well,ofallthedamnedcheek—”
ButEdwardFerrierstillsmilingsaid:
“Itwasacompliment.”
II
Onhiswaydownstairs,HerculePoirotwasinterceptedbyatall,fair-hairedwoman.Shesaid:
“Pleasecomeintomysittingroom,M.Poirot.”
Hebowedandfollowedher.
Sheshutthedoor,motionedhimtoachair,andofferedhimacigarette.Shesatdownoppositehim.Shesaidquietly:
“Youhavejustseenmyhusband—andhehastoldyou—aboutmyfather.”
Poirotlookedatherwithattention.Hesawatallwoman,stillhandsome,withcharacterandintelligenceinherface.Mrs.Ferrierwasapopularfigure.AsthewifeofthePrimeMinistershenaturallycameinforagoodshareofthelimelight.Asthedaughterofherfather,herpopularitywasevengreater.DagmarFerrierrepresentedthepopularidealofEnglishwomanhood.
Shewasadevotedwife,afondmother,shesharedherhusband’sloveofcountrylife.Sheinterestedherselfinjustthoseaspectsofpubliclifewhichweregenerallyfelttobeproperspheresofwomanlyactivity.Shedressedwell,butneverinanostenta-tiouslyfashionablemanner.Shedevotedmuchofhertimeandactivitytolarge-scalecharities,shehadinauguratedspecialschemesforthereliefofthewivesofunemployedmen.ShewaslookeduptobythewholenationandwasamostvaluableassettotheParty.
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Youmustbeterriblyworried,Madame.”
“OhIam—youdon’tknowhowmuch.ForyearsIhavebeendreading—something.”
Poirotsaid:
“Youhadnoideaofwhatwasgoingonactually?”
Sheshookherhead.
“No—notintheleast.Ionlyknewthatmyfatherwasnot—wasnotwhateveryonethoughthim.Irealized,fromthetimethatIwasachild,thathewasa—ahumbug.”
Hervoicewasdeepandbitter.Shesaid:
“ItisthroughmarryingmethatEdward—thatEdwardwillloseeverything.”
Poirotsaidinaquietvoice:
“Haveyouanyenemies,Madame?”
Shelookedupathim,surprised.
“Enemies?Idon’tthinkso.”
Poirotsaidthoughtfully:
“Ithinkyouhave….”
Hewenton:
“Haveyoucourage,Madame?Thereisagreatcampaignafoot—againstyourhusband—andagainstyourself.Youmustpreparetodefendyourself.”
Shecried:
“Butitdoesn’tmatteraboutme.OnlyaboutEdward!”
Poirotsaid:“Theoneincludestheother.Remember,Madame,youareC?sar’swife.”
Hesawhercolourebb.Sheleanedforward.Shesaid:
“Whatisityouaretryingtotellme?”
III
PercyPerry,editoroftheX-rayNews,satbehindhisdesksmoking.
Hewasasmallmanwithafacelikeaweasel.
Hewassayinginasoft,oilyvoice:
“We’llgive’emthedirt,allright.Lovely—lovely!Ohboy!”
Hissecond-in-command,athin,spectacledyouth,saiduneasily:
“You’renotnervous?”
“Expectingstrong-armstuff?Notthem.Haven’tgotthenerve.Wouldn’tdothemanygood,either.Notthewaywe’vegotitfarmedout—inthiscountryandontheContinentandAmerica.”
Theothersaid:
“Theymustbeinaprettygoodstew.Won’ttheydoanything?”
“They’llsendsomeonetotalkpretty—”
Abuzzersounded.PercyPerrypickedupareceiver.Hesaid:“Whodoyousay?Right,sendhimup.”
Heputthereceiverdown—grinned.
“They’vegotthathigh-tonedBelgiandickontoit.He’scomingupnowtodohisstuff.Wantstoknowifwe’llplayball.”
HerculePoirotcamein.Hewasimmaculatelydressed—awhitecameliainhisbuttonhole.
PercyPerrysaid:
“Pleasedtomeetyou,M.Poirot.OnyourwaytotheRoyalEnclosureatAscot?No?Mymistake.”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Iamflattered.Onehopestopresentagoodappearance.Itisevenmoreimportant,”hiseyesroamedinnocentlyovertheeditor’sfaceandsomewhatslovenlyattire,“whenonehasfewnaturaladvantages.”
Perrysaidshortly:
“Whatdoyouwanttoseemeabout?”
Poirotleanedforward,tappedhimontheknee,andsaidwithabeamingsmile:
“Blackmail.”
“Whatthedevildoyoumean,blackmail?”
“Ihaveheard—thelittlebirdhastoldme—thatonoccasionsyouhavebeenonthepointofpublishingcertainverydamagingstatementsinyoursospirituelpaper—then,therehasbeenapleasantlittleincreaseinyourbankbalance—andafterall,thosestatementshavenotbeenpublished.”
Poirotleanedbackandnoddedhisheadinasatisfiedsortofway.
“Doyourealizethatwhatyou’resuggestingamountstoslander?”
Poirotsmiledconfidently.
“Iamsureyouwillnottakeoffence.”
“Idotakeoffence!Astoblackmailthereisnoevidenceofmyeverhavingblackmailedanybody.”
“No,no,Iamquitesureofthat.Youmisunderstandme.Iwasnotthreateningyou.Iwasleadinguptoasimplequestion.Howmuch?”
“Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout,”saidPercyPerry.
“AmatterofNationalimportance,M.Perry.”
Theyexchangedasignificantglance.
PercyPerrysaid:
“I’mareformer,M.Poirot.Iwanttoseepoliticscleanedup.I’mopposedtocorruption.Doyouknowwhatthestateofpoliticsisinthiscountry?TheAugeanStables,nomore,noless.”
“Tiens!”saidHerculePoirot.“You,too,usethatphrase.”
“Andwhatisneeded,”wentontheeditor,“tocleansethosestablesisthegreatpurifyingfloodofPublicOpinion.”
HerculePoirotgotup.Hesaid:
“Iapplaudyoursentiments.”
Headded:
“Itisapitythatyoudonotfeelinneedofmoney.”
PercyPerrysaidhurriedly:
“Here,waitasec—Ididn’tsaythatexactly….”
ButHerculePoirothadgonethroughthedoor.
Hisexcuseforlatereventsisthathedoesnotlikeblackmailers.
IV
EverittDashwood,thecheeryyoungmanonthestaffofTheBranch,clappedHerculePoirotaffectionatelyontheback.
Hesaid:“There’sdirtanddirt,myboy.Mydirt’scleandirt—that’sall.”
“IwasnotsuggestingthatyouwereonaparwithPercyPerry.”
“Damnedlittlebloodsucker.He’sablotonourprofession.We’dalldownhimifwecould.”
“Ithappens,”saidHerculePoirot,“thatIamengagedatthemomentonalittlematterofclearingupapoliticalscandal.”
“CleaningouttheAugeanStables,eh?”saidDashwood.“Toomuchforyou,myboy.OnlyhopeistodiverttheThamesandwashawaytheHousesofParliament.”
“Youarecynical,”saidHerculePoirot,shakinghishead.
“Iknowtheworld,that’sall.”
Poirotsaid:“You,Ithink,arejustthemanIseek.Youhavearecklessdisposition,youarethegoodsport,youlikesomethingthatisoutoftheusual.”
“Andgrantingallthat?”
“Ihavealittleschemetoputintoaction.Ifmyideasareright,thereisasensationalplottounmask.That,myfriend,shallbeascoopforyourpaper.”
“Cando,”saidDashwoodcheerfully.
“Itwillconcernascurrilousplotagainstawoman.”
“Betterandbetter.Sexstuffalwaysgoes.”
“Thensitdownandlisten.”
V
Peopleweretalking.
IntheGooseandFeathersatLittleWimplington.
“Well,Idon’tbelieveit.JohnHammett,hewasalwaysanhonestman,hewas.Notlikesomeofthesepoliticalfolk.”
“That’swhattheysayaboutallswindlersbeforethey’refoundout.”
“Thousands,theysayhemade,outofthatPalestineOilbusiness.Justacrookdeal,itwas.”
“Wholelotof’emtarredwiththesamebrush.Dirtycrooks,everyoneof’em.”
“Youwouldn’tfindEverharddoingthat.He’soneoftheoldschool.”
“Eh,butIcan’tbelieveasJohnHammettwasawrong’un.Youcan’tbelieveallthesepaperssay.”
“Ferrier’swifewas’isdaughter.Haveyouseenwhatitsaysabouther?”
TheyporedoveramuchthumbedcopyoftheX-rayNews:
Caesar’swife?Wehearthatacertainhighlyplacedpoliticalladywasseeninverystrangesurroundingstheotherday.Completewithhergigolo.OhDagmar,Dagmar,howcouldyoubesonaughty?
Arusticvoicesaidslowly:
“Mrs.Ferrier’snotthatkind.Gigolo?That’soneofthesedagoskunks.”
Anothervoicesaid:
“Younevercantellwithwomen.Thewholebunchof’emwrong’unsifyouaskme.”
VI
Peopleweretalking.
“But,darling,Ibelieveit’sabsolutelytrue.NaomihaditfromPaulandhehaditfromAndy.She’sabsolutelydepraved.”
“Butshewasalwayssoterriblydowdyandproperandopeningbazaars.”
“Justcamouflage,darling.Theysayshe’sanymphomaniac.Well,Imean!it’sallintheX-rayNews.Oh,notrightout,butyoucanreadbetweenthelines.Idon’tknowhowtheygetholdofthesethings.”
“Whatdoyouthinkofallthispoliticalscandaltouch?TheysayherfatherembezzledthePartyfunds.”
VII
Peopleweretalking.
“Idon’tliketothinkofit,andthat’safact,Mrs.Rogers.Imean,IalwaysthoughtMrs.Ferrierwasareallynicewoman.”
“Doyouthinkalltheseawfulthingsaretrue?”
“AsIsay,Idon’tliketothinkitofher.Why,sheopenedaBazaarinPelchesteronlylastJune.IwasasneartoherasIamtothatsofa.Andshehadsuchapleasantsmile.”
“Yes,butwhatIsayisthere’snosmokewithoutfire.”
“Well,ofcoursethat’strue.Ohdear,itseemsasthoughyoucan’tbelieveinanyone!”
VIII
EdwardFerrier,hisfacewhiteandstrained,saidtoPoirot:
“Theseattacksonmywife!They’rescurrilous—absolutelyscurrilous!I’mbringinganactionagainstthatvilerag.”
HerculePoirotsaid:“Idonotadviseyoutodoso.”
“Butthesedamnedlieshavegottobestopped.”
“Areyousuretheyarelies?”
“Goddamnyou,yes!”
Poirotsaid,hisheadheldalittleononeside:
“Whatdoesyourwifesay?”
ForamomentFerrierlookedtakenaback
“Shesaysitisbesttotakenonotice…ButIcan’tdothat—everybodyistalking.”
HerculePoirotsaid:“Yes,everybodyistalking.”
IX
Andthencamethesmallbaldannouncementinallthepapers.
Mrs.Ferrierhashadaslightnervousbreakdown.ShehasgonetoScotlandtorecuperate.
Conjectures,rumours—positiveinformationthatMrs.FerrierwasnotinScotland,hadneverbeentoScotland
Stories,scandalousstories,ofwhereMrs.Ferrierreallywas….
Andagain,peopletalking.
“ItellyouAndysawher.Atthatfrightfulplace!ShewasdrunkordopedandwithanawfulArgentinegigolo—Ramon.Youknow!”
Moretalking.
Mrs.FerrierhadgoneoffwithanArgentinedancer.ShehadbeenseeninParis,doped.Shehadbeentakingdrugsforyears.Shedranklikeafish.
SlowlytherighteousmindofEngland,atfirstunbelieving,hadhardenedagainstMrs.Ferrier.Seemedasthoughtheremustbesomethinginit!Thatwasn’tthesortofwomantobethePrimeMinister’swife.“AJezebel,that’swhatsheis,nothingbetterthanaJezebel!”
Andthencamethecamerarecords.
Mrs.Ferrier,photographedinParis—lyingbackinanightclub,herarmtwinedfamiliarlyovertheshoulderofadark,olive-skinnedvicious-lookingyoungman.
Othersnapshots—half-nakedonabeach—herheadontheloungelizard’sshoulder.
Andunderneath:
“Mrs.Ferrierhasagoodtime.”
TwodayslateranactionforlibelwasbroughtagainsttheX-rayNews.
X
ThecasefortheprosecutionwasopenedbySirMortimerInglewood,K.C.Hewasdignifiedandfullofrighteousindignation.Mrs.Ferrierwasthevictimofaninfamousplot—aplotonlytobeequalledbythefamouscaseoftheQueen’sNecklacefamiliartoreadersofAlexandreDumas.ThatplothadbeenengineeredtolowerQueenMarieAntoinetteintheeyesofthepopulace.Thisplot,also,hadbeenengineeredtodiscreditanobleandvirtuousladywhowasinthiscountryinthepositionofC?sar’swife.SirMortimerspokewithbitterdisparagementofFascistsandCommunistsbothofwhomsoughttoundermineDemocracybyeveryunfairmachinationknown.Hethenproceededtocallwitnesses.
ThefirstwastheBishopofNorthumbria
Dr.Henderson,theBishopofNorthumbriawasoneofthebest-knownfiguresintheEnglishchurch,amanofgreatsaintlinessandintegrityofcharacter.Hewasbroadminded,tolerant,andafinepreacher.Hewaslovedandreveredbyallwhoknewhim.
HewentintotheboxandsworethatbetweenthedatesmentionedMrs.EdwardFerrierhadbeenstayinginthePalacewithhimselfandhiswife.Wornoutbyheractivitiesingoodworks,shehadbeenrecommendedathoroughrest.HervisithadbeenkeptasecretsoastoobviateanyworryfromthePress.
AneminentdoctorfollowedtheBishopanddeposedtohavingorderedMrs.Ferrierrestandcompleteabsencefromworry.
AlocalgeneralpractitionergaveevidencetotheeffectthathehadattendedMrs.FerrieratthePalace.
ThenextwitnesscalledwasThelmaAndersen.
AthrillwentroundtheCourtwhensheenteredthewitness-box.EveryonerealizedatoncewhatastrongresemblancethewomanboretoMrs.EdwardFerrier.
“YournameisThelmaAndersen?”
“Yes.”
“YouareaDanishsubject?”
“Yes.Copenhagenismyhome.”
“Andyouformerlyworkedatacaféthere?”
“Yes,sir.”
“Pleasetellusinyourownwordswhathappenedonthe18thMarchlast.”
“Thereisagentlemanwhocomestomytablethere—anEnglishgentleman.HetellsmeheworksforanEnglishpaper—theX-rayNews.”
“Youaresurehementionedthatname—X-rayNews?”
“Yes,Iamsure—because,yousee,Ithinkatfirstitmustbeamedicalpaper.Butno,itseemsnotso.ThenhetellsmethereisanEnglishfilmactresswhowantstofinda‘stand-in,’andthatIamjustthetype.Idonotgotothepicturesmuch,andIdonotrecognizethenamehesays,buthetellsme,yes,sheisveryfamous,andthatshehasnotbeenwellandsoshewantssomeonetoappearasherinpublicplaces,andforthatshewillpayverymuchmoney.”
“Howmuchmoneydidthisgentlemanofferyou?”
“FivehundredpoundsinEnglishmoney.Idonotatfirstbelieve—Ithinkitissometrick,buthepaysmeatoncehalfthemoney.Sothen,IgiveinmynoticewhereIwork.”
Thetalewenton.ShehadbeentakentoParis,suppliedwithsmartclothes,andhadbeenprovidedwithan“escort.”“AveryniceArgentiniangentleman—veryrespectful,verypolite.”
Itwasclearthatthewomanhadthoroughlyenjoyedherself.ShehadflownovertoLondonandhadbeentakentheretocertain“nightclubs”byherolive-skinnedcavalier.ShehadbeenphotographedinPariswithhim.Someoftheplacestowhichshehadgonewerenot,sheadmitted,quitenice…Indeed,theywerenotrespectable!Andsomeofthephotographstaken,theytoo,hadnotbeenverynice.Butthesethings,theyhadtoldher,werenecessaryfor“advertisement”—andSe?orRamonhimselfhadalwaysbeenmostrespectful.
InanswertoquestioningshedeclaredthatthenameofMrs.Ferrierhadneverbeenmentionedandthatshehadhadnoideathatitwasthatladyshewassupposedtobeunderstudying.Shehadmeantnoharm.SheidentifiedcertainphotographswhichwereshowntoherashavingbeentakenofherinParisandontheRiviera.
TherewasthehallmarkofabsolutehonestyaboutThelmaAndersen.Shewasquiteclearlyapleasant,butslightlystupidwoman.Herdistressatthewholething,nowthatsheunderstoodit,waspatenttoeveryone.
Thedefencewasunconvincing.AfrenzieddenialofhavinghadanydealingswiththewomanAndersen.ThephotosinquestionhadbeenbroughttotheLondonofficeandhadbeenbelievedtobegenuine.SirMortimer’sclosingspeechrousedenthusiasm.Hedescribedthewholethingasadastardlypoliticalplot,formedtodiscreditthePrimeMinisterandhiswife.AllsympathywouldbeextendedtotheunfortunateMrs.Ferrier.
Theverdict,aforegoneconclusion,wasgivenamidstunparalleledscenes.Damageswereassessedatanenormousfigure.AsMrs.Ferrierandherhusbandandfatherleftthecourttheyweregreetedbytheappreciativeroarsofavastcrowd.
XI
EdwardFerriergraspedPoirotwarmlybythehand.
Hesaid:
“Ithankyou,M.Poirot,athousandtimes.Well,thatfinishestheX-rayNews.Dirtylittlerag.They’rewipedoutcompletely.Servesthemrightforcookingupsuchascurrilousplot.AgainstDagmar,too,thekindliestcreatureintheworld.Thankgoodnessyoumanagedtoexposethewholethingforthewickedrampitwas…Whatputyouontotheideathattheymightbeusingadouble?”
“Itisnotanewidea,”Poirotremindedhim.“ItwasemployedsuccessfullyinthecaseofJeannedelaMottewhensheimpersonatedMarieAntoinette.”
“Iknow.Imustre-readTheQueen’sNecklace.Buthowdidyouactuallyfindthewomantheywereemploying?”
“IlookedforherinDenmark,andIfoundherthere.”
“ButwhyDenmark?”
“BecauseMrs.Ferrier’sgrandmotherwasaDane,andsheherselfisamarkedlyDanishtype.Andtherewereotherreasons.”
“Theresemblanceiscertainlystriking.Whatadevilishidea!Iwonderhowthelittleratcametothinkofit?”
Poirotsmiled.
“Buthedidnot.”
Hetappedhimselfonthechest.
“Ithoughtofit!”
EdwardFerrierstared.
“Idon’tunderstand.Whatdoyoumean?”
Poirotsaid:
“WemustgobacktoanolderstorythanthatofTheQueen’sNecklace—tothecleansingoftheAugeanStables.WhatHerculesusedwasariver—thatistosayoneofthegreatforcesofNature.Modernizethat!WhatisagreatforceofNature?Sex,isitnot?Itisthesexanglethatsellsstories,thatmakesnews.Givepeoplescandalalliedtosexanditappealsfarmorethananymerepoliticalchicaneryorfraud.
“Ehbien,thatwasmytask!FirsttoputmyownhandsinthemudlikeHerculestobuildupadamthatshouldturnthecourseofthatriver.Ajournalisticfriendofmineaidedme.HesearchedDenmarkuntilhefoundasuitablepersontoattempttheimpersonation.Heapproachedher,casuallymentionedtheX-rayNewstoher,hopingshewouldrememberit.Shedid.
“Andso,whathappened?Mud—agreatdealofmud!C?sar’swifeisbespatteredwithit.Farmoreinterestingtoeverybodythananypoliticalscandal.Andtheresult—the“dénouement?Why,Reaction!Virtuevindicated!Thepurewomancleared!AgreattideofRomanceandSentimentsweepingthroughtheAugeanStables.
“IfallthenewspapersinthecountrypublishthenewsofJohnHammett’sdefalcationsnow,noonewillbelieveit.ItwillbeputdownasanotherpoliticalplottodiscredittheGovernment.”
EdwardFerriertookadeepbreath.ForamomentHerculePoirotcamenearertobeingphysicallyassaultedthanatanyothertimeinhiscareer.
“Mywife!Youdaredtouseher—”
Fortunately,perhaps,Mrs.Ferrierherselfenteredtheroomatthismoment.
“Well,”shesaid.“Thatwentoffverywell.”
“Dagmar,didyou—knowallalong?”
“Ofcourse,dear,”saidDagmarFerrier.
Andshesmiled,thegentle,maternalsmileofadevotedwife.
“Andyounevertoldme!”
“But,Edward,youwouldneverhaveletM.Poirotdoit.”
“IndeedIwouldnot!”
Dagmarsmiled.
“That’swhatwethought.”
“We?”
“IandM.Poirot.”
ShesmiledatHerculePoirotandatherhusband.
Sheadded:
“IhadaveryrestfultimewiththedearBishop—Ifeelfullofenergynow.TheywantmetochristenthenewbattleshipatLiverpoolnextmonth—Ithinkitwouldbeapopularthingtodo.”
Six
THESTYMPHALEANBIRDS
HaroldWaringnoticedthemfirstwalkingupthepathfromthelake.Hewassittingoutsidethehotelontheterrace.Thedaywasfine,thelakewasblue,andthesunshone.Haroldwassmokingapipeandfeelingthattheworldwasaprettygoodplace.
Hispoliticalcareerwasshapingwell.Anundersecretaryshipattheageofthirtywassomethingtobejustlyproudof.IthadbeenreportedthatthePrimeMinisterhadsaidtosomeonethat“youngWaringwouldgofar.”Haroldwas,notunnaturally,elated.Lifepresenteditselftohiminrosycolours.Hewasyoung,sufficientlygood-looking,infirst-classcondition,andquiteunencumberedwithromanticties.
HehaddecidedtotakeaholidayinHerzoslovakiasoastogetrightoffthebeatentrackandhavearealrestfromeveryoneandeverything.ThehotelatLakeStempka,thoughsmall,wascomfortableandnotovercrowded.Thefewpeoplethereweremostlyforeigners.SofartheonlyotherEnglishpeoplewereanelderlywoman,Mrs.Rice,andhermarrieddaughter,Mrs.Clayton.Haroldlikedthemboth.ElsieClaytonwasprettyinaratherold-fashionedstyle.Shemadeupverylittle,ifatall,andwasgentleandrathershy.Mrs.Ricewaswhatiscalledawomanofcharacter.Shewastall,withadeepvoiceandamasterfulmanner,butshehadasenseofhumourandwasgoodcompany.Herlifewasclearlyboundupinthatofherdaughter
Haroldhadspentsomepleasanthoursinthecompanyofmotheranddaughter,buttheydidnotattempttomonopolizehimandrelationsremainedfriendlyandunexactingbetweenthem.
TheotherpeopleinthehotelhadnotarousedHarold’snotice.Usuallytheywerehikers,ormembersofamotor-coachtour.Theystayedanightortwoandthenwenton.Hehadhardlynoticedanyoneelse—untilthisafternoon.
TheycameupthepathfromthelakeveryslowlyanditjusthappenedthatatthemomentwhenHarold’sattentionwasattractedtothem,acloudcameoverthesun.Heshiveredalittle.
Thenhestared.Surelytherewassomethingoddaboutthesetwowomen?Theyhadlong,curvednoses,likebirds,andtheirfaces,whichwerecuriouslyalike,werequiteimmobile.Overtheirshoulderstheyworeloosecloaksthatflappedinthewindlikethewingsoftwobigbirds.
Haroldthoughttohimself.
“Theyarelikebirds—”headdedalmostwithoutvolition,“birdsofillomen.”
Thewomencamestraightupontheterraceandpassedclosebyhim.Theywerenotyoung—perhapsnearerfiftythanforty,andtheresemblancebetweenthemwassoclosethattheywereobviouslysisters.Theirexpressionwasforbidding.AstheypassedHaroldtheeyesofbothofthemrestedonhimforaminute.Itwasacurious,appraisingglance—almostinhuman.
Harold’simpressionofevilgrewstronger.Henoticedthehandofoneofthetwosisters,alongclawlikehand…Althoughthesunhadcomeout,heshiveredonceagain.Hethought:
“Horriblecreatures.Likebirdsofprey….”
HewasdistractedfromtheseimaginingsbytheemergenceofMrs.Ricefromthehotel.Hejumpedupanddrewforwardachair.Withawordofthanksshesatdownand,asusual,begantoknitvigorously.
Haroldasked:
“Didyouseethosetwowomenwhojustwentintothehotel?”
“Withcloakson?Yes,Ipassedthem.”
“Extraordinarycreatures,didn’tyouthink?”
“Well—yes,perhapstheyareratherodd.Theyonlyarrivedyesterday,Ithink.Veryalike—theymustbetwins.”
Haroldsaid:
“Imaybefanciful,butIdistinctlyfelttherewassomethingevilaboutthem.”
“Howcurious.ImustlookatthemmorecloselyandseeifIagreewithyou.”
Sheadded:“We’llfindoutfromtheconciergewhotheyare.NotEnglish,Iimagine?”
“Ohno.”
Mrs.Riceglancedatherwatch.Shesaid:
“Teatime.Iwonderifyou’dmindgoinginandringingthebell,Mr.Waring?”
“Certainly,Mrs.Rice.”
Hedidsoandthenashereturnedtohisseatheasked:
“Where’syourdaughterthisafternoon?”
“Elsie?Wewentforawalktogether.Partofthewayroundthelakeandthenbackthroughthepinewoods.Itreallywaslovely.”
Awaitercameoutandreceivedordersfortea.Mrs.Ricewenton,herneedlesflyingvigorously:
“Elsiehadaletterfromherhusband.Shemayn’tcomedowntotea.”
“Herhusband?”Haroldwassurprised.“Doyouknow,Ialwaysthoughtshewasawidow.”
Mrs.Riceshothimasharpglance.Shesaiddrily:
“Ohno,Elsieisn’tawidow.”Sheaddedwithemphasis:“Unfortunately!”
Haroldwasstartled.
Mrs.Rice,noddingherheadgrimly,said:
“Drinkisresponsibleforalotofunhappiness,Mr.Waring.”
“Doeshedrink?”
“Yes.Andagoodmanyotherthingsaswell.He’sinsanelyjealousandhasasingularlyviolenttemper.”Shesighed.“It’sadifficultworld,Mr.Waring.I’mdevotedtoElsie,she’smyonlychild—andtoseeherunhappyisn’taneasythingtobear.”
Haroldsaidwithrealemotion:
“She’ssuchagentlecreature.”
“Alittletoogentle,perhaps.”
“Youmean—”
Mrs.Ricesaidslowly:
“Ahappycreatureismorearrogant.Elsie’sgentlenesscomes,Ithink,fromasenseofdefeat.Lifehasbeentoomuchforher.”
Haroldsaidwithsomeslighthesitation:
“How—didshecometomarrythishusbandofhers?”
Mrs.Riceanswered:
“PhilipClaytonwasaveryattractiveperson.Hehad(stillhas)greatcharm,hehadacertainamountofmoney—andtherewasnoonetoadviseusofhisrealcharacter.Ihadbeenawidowformanyyears.Twowomen,livingalone,arenotthebestjudgesofaman’scharacter.”
Haroldsaidthoughtfully:
“No,that’strue.”
Hefeltawaveofindignationandpitysweepoverhim.ElsieClaytoncouldnotbemorethantwenty-fiveatthemost.Herecalledtheclearfriendlinessofherblueeyes,thesoftdroopofhermouth.Herealized,suddenly,thathisinterestinherwentalittlebeyondfriendship.
Andshewastiedtoabrute….
II
Thatevening,Haroldjoinedmotheranddaughterafterdinner.ElsieClaytonwaswearingasoftdullpinkdress.Hereyelids,henoticed,werered.Shehadbeencrying.
Mrs.Ricesaidbriskly:
“I’vefoundoutwhoyourtwoharpiesare,Mr.Waring.Polishladies—ofverygoodfamily,sotheconciergesays.”
HaroldlookedacrosstheroomtowherethePolishladiesweresitting.Elsiesaidwithinterest:
“Thosetwowomenoverthere?Withthehenna-dyedhair?Theylookratherhorriblesomehow—Idon’tknowwhy.”
Haroldsaidtriumphantly:
“That’sjustwhatIthought.”
Mrs.Ricesaidwithalaugh:
“Ithinkyouarebothbeingabsurd.Youcan’tpossiblytellwhatpeoplearelikejustbylookingatthem.”
Elsielaughed.
Shesaid:
“Isupposeonecan’t.AllthesameIthinkthey’revultures!”
“Pickingoutdeadmen’seyes!”saidHarold.
“Oh,don’t,”criedElsie.
Haroldsaidquickly:
“Sorry.”
Mrs.Ricesaidwithasmile:
“Anywaythey’renotlikelytocrossourpath.”
Elsiesaid:
“Wehaven’tgotanyguiltysecrets!”
“PerhapsMr.Waringhas,”saidMrs.Ricewithatwinkle.
Haroldlaughed,throwinghisheadback.
Hesaid:
“Notasecretintheworld.Mylife’sanopenbook.”
Anditflashedacrosshismind:
“Whatfoolspeoplearewholeavethestraightpath.Aclearconscience—that’salloneneedsinlife.Withthatyoucanfacetheworldandtelleveryonewhointerfereswithyoutogotothedevil!”
Hefeltsuddenlyverymuchalive—verystrong—verymuchmasterofhisfate!
III
HaroldWaring,likemanyotherEnglishmen,wasabadlinguist.HisFrenchwashaltinganddecidedlyBritishinintonation.OfGermanandItalianheknewnothing.
Uptonow,theselinguisticdisabilitieshadnotworriedhim.InmosthotelsontheContinent,hehadalwaysfound,everyonespokeEnglish,sowhyworry?
Butinthisout-of-the-wayspot,wherethenativelanguagewasaformofSlovakandeventheconciergeonlyspokeGermanitwassometimesgallingtoHaroldwhenoneofhistwowomenfriendsactedasinterpreterforhim.Mrs.Rice,whowasfondoflanguages,couldevenspeakalittleSlovak.
HarolddeterminedthathewouldsetaboutlearningGerman.Hedecidedtobuysometextbooksandspendacoupleofhourseachmorninginmasteringthelanguage.
Themorningwasfineandafterwritingsomeletters,Haroldlookedathiswatchandsawthattherewasstilltimeforanhour’sstrollbeforelunch.Hewentdowntowardsthelakeandthenturnedasideintothepinewoods.Hehadwalkedthereforperhapsfiveminuteswhenheheardanunmistakablesound.Somewherenotfarawayawomanwassobbingherheartout.
Haroldpausedaminute,thenhewentinthedirectionofthesound.ThewomanwasElsieClaytonandshewassittingonafallentreewithherfaceburiedinherhandsandhershouldersquiveringwiththeviolenceofhergrief.
Haroldhesitatedaminute,thenhecameuptoher.Hesaidgently:
“Mrs.Clayton—Elsie?”
Shestartedviolentlyandlookedupathim.Haroldsatdownbesideher.
Hesaidwithrealsympathy:
“IsthereanythingIcando?Anythingatall?”
Sheshookherhead.
“No—no—you’reverykind.Butthere’snothingthatanyonecandoforme.”
Haroldsaidratherdiffidently:
“Isittodowith—yourhusband?”
Shenodded.Thenshewipedhereyesandtookoutherpowdercompact,strugglingtoregaincommandofherself.Shesaidinaquaveringvoice:
“Ididn’twantMothertoworry.She’ssoupsetwhensheseesmeunhappy.SoIcameoutheretohaveagoodcry.It’ssilly,Iknow.Cryingdoesn’thelp.But—sometimes—onejustfeelsthatlifeisquiteunbearable.”
Haroldsaid:
“I’mterriblysorry.”
Shethrewhimagratefulglance.Thenshesaidhurriedly:
“It’smyownfault,ofcourse.ImarriedPhilipofmyownfreewill.It—it’sturnedoutbadly,I’veonlymyselftoblame.”
Haroldsaid:
“It’sverypluckyofyoutoputitlikethat.”
Elsieshookherhead.
“No,I’mnotplucky.I’mnotbraveatall.I’manawfulcoward.That’spartlythetroublewithPhilip.I’mterrifiedofhim—absolutelyterrified—whenhegetsinoneofhisrages.”
Haroldsaidwithfeeling:
“Yououghttoleavehim!”
“Idaren’t.He—hewouldn’tletme.”
“Nonsense!Whataboutadivorce?”
Sheshookherheadslowly.
“I’venogrounds.”Shestraightenedhershoulders.“No,I’vegottocarryon.IspendafairamountoftimewithMother,youknow.Philipdoesn’tmindthat.Especiallywhenwegosomewhereoffthebeatentracklikethis.”Sheadded,thecolourrisinginhercheeks,“Yousee,partofthetroubleisthathe’sinsanelyjealous.If—ifIsomuchasspeaktoanothermanhemakesthemostfrightfulscenes.”
Harold’sindignationrose.Hehadheardmanywomencomplainofthejealousyofahusband,andwhilstprofessingsympathy,hadbeensecretlyoftheopinionthatthehusbandwasamplyjustified.ButElsieClaytonwasnotoneofthosewomen.Shehadneverthrownhimsomuchasaflirtatiousglance.
Elsiedrewawayfromhimwithaslightshiver.Sheglancedupatthesky.
“Thesun’sgonein.It’squitecold.We’dbettergetbacktothehotel.Itmustbenearlylunchtime.”
Theygotupandturnedinthedirectionofthehotel.Theyhadwalkedforperhapsaminutewhentheyovertookafiguregoinginthesamedirection.Theyrecognizedherbytheflappingcloakshewore.ItwasoneofthePolishsisters.
Theypassedher,Haroldbowingslightly.ShemadenoresponsebuthereyesrestedonthembothforaminuteandtherewasacertainappraisingqualityintheglancewhichmadeHaroldfeelsuddenlyhot.HewonderedifthewomanhadseenhimsittingbyElsieonthetreetrunk.Ifso,sheprobablythought….
Well,shelookedasthoughshethought…Awaveofindignationoverwhelmedhim!Whatfoulmindssomewomenhad!
Oddthatthesunhadgoneinandthattheyshouldbothhaveshivered—perhapsjustatthemomentthatthatwomanwaswatchingthem….
Somehow,Haroldfeltalittleuneasy.
IV
Thatevening,Haroldwenttohisroomalittleafterten.TheEnglishmaidhadarrivedandhehadreceivedanumberofletters,someofwhichneededimmediateanswers.
Hegotintohispyjamasandadressinggownandsatdownatthedesktodealwithhiscorrespondence.HehadwrittenthreelettersandwasjuststartingonthefourthwhenthedoorwassuddenlyflungopenandElsieClaytonstaggeredintotheroom.
Haroldjumpedup,startled.Elsiehadpushedthedoortobehindherandwasstandingclutchingatthechestofdrawers.Herbreathwascomingingreatgasps,herfacewasthecolourofchalk.Shelookedfrightenedtodeath.
Shegaspedout:“It’smyhusband!Hearrivedunexpectedly.I—Ithinkhe’llkillme.He’smad—quitemad.Icametoyou.Don’t—don’tlethimfindme.”
Shetookasteportwoforward,swayingsomuchthatshealmostfell.Haroldputoutanarmtosupporther.
Ashedidso,thedoorwasflungopenandamanstoodinthedoorway.Hewasofmediumheightwiththickeyebrowsandasleek,darkhead.Inhishandhecarriedaheavycarspanner.Hisvoicerosehighandshookwithrage.Healmostscreamedthewords.
“SothatPolishwomanwasright!Youarecarryingonwiththisfellow!”
Elsiecried:
“No,no,Philip.It’snottrue.You’rewrong.”
Haroldthrustthegirlswiftlybehindhim,asPhilipClaytonadvancedonthemboth.Thelattercried:
“Wrong,amI?WhenIfindyouhereinhisroom?Youshe-devil,I’llkillyouforthis.”
Withaswift,sidewaysmovementhedodgedHarold’sarm.Elsie,withacry,ranroundtheothersideofHarold,whoswungroundtofendtheotheroff.
ButPhilipClaytonhadonlyoneidea,togetathiswife.Heswervedroundagain.Elsie,terrified,rushedoutoftheroom.PhilipClaytondashedafterher,andHarold,withnotamoment’shesitation,followedhim.
Elsiehaddartedbackintoherownbedroomattheendofthecorridor.Haroldcouldhearthesoundofthekeyturninginthelock,butitdidnotturnintime.BeforethelockcouldcatchPhilipClaytonwrenchedthedooropen.HedisappearedintotheroomandHaroldheardElsie’sfrightenedcry.InanotherminuteHaroldburstinafterthem.
Elsiewasstandingatbayagainstthecurtainsofthewindow.AsHaroldenteredPhilipClaytonrushedatherbrandishingthespanner.Shegaveaterrifiedcry,thensnatchingupaheavypaper-weightfromthedeskbesideher,sheflungitathim.
Claytonwentdownlikealog.Elsiescreamed.Haroldstoppedpetrifiedinthedoorway.Thegirlfellonherkneesbesideherhusband.Helayquitestillwherehehadfallen.
Outsideinthepassage,therewasthesoundoftheboltofoneofthedoorsbeingdrawnback.ElsiejumpedupandrantoHarold.
“Please—please—”Hervoicewaslowandbreathless.“Gobacktoyourroom.They’llcome—they’llfindyouhere.”
Haroldnodded.Hetookinthesituationlikelightning.Forthemoment,PhilipClaytonwashorsdecombat.ButElsie’sscreammighthavebeenheard.Ifhewerefoundinherroomitcouldonlycauseembarrassmentandmisunderstanding.Bothforhersakeandhisowntheremustbenoscandal.
Asnoislesslyaspossible,hesprinteddownthepassageandbackintohisroom.Justashereachedit,heheardthesoundofanopeningdoor.
Hesatinhisroomfornearlyhalfanhour,waiting.Hedarednotgoout.Soonerorlater,hefeltsure,Elsiewouldcome.
Therewasalighttaponhisdoor.Haroldjumpeduptoopenit.
ItwasnotElsiewhocameinbuthermotherandHaroldwasaghastatherappearance.Shelookedsuddenlyyearsolder.Hergreyhairwasdishevelledandthereweredeepblackcirclesunderhereyes.
Hesprangupandhelpedhertoachair.Shesatdown,herbreathcomingpainfully.Haroldsaidquickly:
“Youlookallin,Mrs.Rice.CanIgetyousomething?”
Sheshookherhead.
“No.Nevermindme.I’mallright,really.It’sonlytheshock.Mr.Waring,aterriblethinghashappened.”
Haroldasked:
“IsClaytonseriouslyinjured?”
Shecaughtherbreath.
“Worsethanthat.He’sdead.”
V
Theroomspunround.
AfeelingasoficywatertricklingdownhisspinerenderedHaroldincapableofspeechforamomentortwo.
Herepeateddully:
“Dead?”
Mrs.Ricenodded.
Shesaid,andhervoicehadtheflatleveltonesofcompleteexhaustion:
“Thecornerofthatmarblepaperweightcaughthimrightonthetempleandhefellbackwithhisheadontheironfender.Idon’tknowwhichitwasthatkilledhim—butheiscertainlydead.Ihaveseendeathoftenenoughtoknow.”
Disaster—thatwasthewordthatranginsistentlyinHarold’sbrain.Disaster,disaster,disaster….
Hesaidvehemently:
“Itwasanaccident…Isawithappen.”
Mrs.Ricesaidsharply:
“Ofcourseitwasanaccident.Iknowthat.But—but—isanyoneelsegoingtothinkso?I’m—frankly,I’mfrightened,Harold!Thisisn’tEngland.”
Haroldsaidslowly:
“IcanconfirmElsie’sstory.”
Mrs.Ricesaid:
“Yes,andshecanconfirmyours.That—thatisjustit!”
Harold’sbrain,naturallyakeenandcautiousone,sawherpoint.Hereviewedthewholethingandappreciatedtheweaknessoftheirposition.
HeandElsiehadspentagooddealoftheirtimetogether.ThentherewasthefactthattheyhadbeenseentogetherinthepinewoodsbyoneofthePolishwomenunderrathercompromisingcircumstances.ThePolishladiesapparentlyspokenoEnglish,buttheymightneverthelessunderstanditalittle.Thewomanmighthaveknownthemeaningofwordslike“jealousy”and“husband”ifshehadchancedtooverheartheirconversation.AnywayitwasclearthatitwassomethingshehadsaidtoClaytonthathadarousedhisjealousy.Andnow—hisdeath.WhenClaytonhaddied,he,Harold,hadbeeninElsieClayton’sroom.TherewasnothingtoshowthathehadnotdeliberatelyassaultedPhilipClaytonwiththepaperweight.Nothingtoshowthatthejealoushusbandhadnotactuallyfoundthemtogether.TherewasonlyhiswordandElsie’s.Wouldtheybebelieved?
Acoldfeargrippedhim.
Hedidnotimagine—no,hereallydidnotimagine—thateitherheorElsiewasindangerofbeingcondemnedtodeathforamurdertheyhadnotcommitted.Surely,inanycase,itcouldbeonlyachargeofmanslaughterbroughtagainstthem.(Didtheyhavemanslaughterintheseforeigncountries?)Buteveniftheywereacquittedofblametherewouldhavetobeaninquiry—itwouldbereportedinallthepapers.AnEnglishmanandwomanaccused—jealoushusband—risingpolitician.Yes,itwouldmeantheendofhispoliticalcareer.Itwouldneversurviveascandallikethat.
Hesaidonanimpulse:
“Can’twegetridofthebodysomehow?Plantitsomewhere?”
Mrs.Rice’sastonishedandscornfullookmadehimblush.Shesaidincisively:
“MydearHarold,thisisn’tadetectivestory!Toattemptathinglikethatwouldbequitecrazy.”
“Isupposeitwould.”Hegroaned.“Whatcanwedo?MyGod,whatcanwedo?”
Mrs.Riceshookherheaddespairingly.Shewasfrowning,hermindworkingpainfully.
Harolddemanded:
“Isn’tthereanythingwecando?Anythingtoavoidthisfrightfuldisaster?”
There,itwasout—disaster!Terrible—unforeseen—utterlydamning.
Theystaredateachother.Mrs.Ricesaidhoarsely:
“Elsie—mylittlegirl.I’ddoanything…Itwillkillherifshehastogothroughathinglikethis.”Andsheadded:“Youtoo,yourcareer—everything.”
Haroldmanagedtosay:
“Nevermindme.”
Buthedidnotreallymeanit.
Mrs.Ricewentonbitterly:
“Andallsounfair—soutterlyuntrue!It’snotasthoughtherehadeverbeenanythingbetweenyou.Iknowthatwellenough.”
Haroldsuggested,catchingatastraw:
“You’llbeabletosaythatatleast—thatitwasallperfectlyallright.”
Mrs.Ricesaidbitterly:
“Yes,iftheybelieveme.Butyouknowwhatthesepeopleoutherearelike!”
Haroldagreedgloomily.TotheContinentalmind,therewouldundoubtedlybeaguiltyconnectionbetweenhimselfandElsie,andallMrs.Rice’sdenialswouldbetakenasamotherlyingherselfblackinthefaceforherdaughter.
Haroldsaidgloomily:
“Yes,we’renotinEngland,worseluck.”
“Ah!”Mrs.Riceliftedherhead.“That’strue…It’snotEngland.Iwondernowifsomethingcouldbedone—”
“Yes?”Haroldlookedathereagerly.
Mrs.Ricesaidabruptly:
“Howmuchmoneyhaveyougot?”
“Notmuchwithme.”Headded,“Icouldwireformoney,ofcourse.”
Mrs.Ricesaidgrimly:
“Wemayneedagooddeal.ButIthinkit’sworthtrying.”
Haroldfeltafaintliftingofdespair.Hesaid:
“Whatisyouridea?”
Mrs.Ricespokedecisively.
“Wehaven’tachanceofconcealingthedeathourselves,butIdothinkthere’sjustachanceofhushingitupofficially!”
“Youreallythinkso?”Haroldwashopefulbutslightlyincredulous.
“Yes,foronethingthemanagerofthehotelwillbeonourside.He’dmuchratherhavethethinghushedup.It’smyopinionthatintheseoutofthewaycuriouslittleBalkancountriesyoucanbribeanyoneandeveryone—andthepoliceareprobablymorecorruptthananyoneelse!”
Haroldsaidslowly:
“Doyouknow,Ibelieveyou’reright.”
Mrs.Ricewenton:
“Fortunately,Idon’tthinkanyoneinthehotelheardanything.”
“WhohastheroomnexttoElsie’sontheothersidefromyours?”
“ThetwoPolishladies.Theydidn’thearanything.They’dhavecomeoutintothepassageiftheyhad.Philiparrivedlate,nobodysawhimbutthenightporter.Doyouknow,Harold,Ibelieveitwillbepossibletohushthewholethingup—andgetPhilip’sdeathcertifiedasduetonaturalcauses!It’sjustaquestionofbribinghighenough—andfindingtherightman—probablytheChiefofPolice!”
Haroldsmiledfaintly.Hesaid:
“It’sratherComicOpera,isn’tit?Well,afterall,wecanbuttry.”
VI
Mrs.Ricewasenergypersonified.Firstthemanagerwassummoned.Haroldremainedinhisroom,keepingoutofit.HeandMrs.Ricehadagreedthatthestorytoldhadbetterbethatofaquarrelbetweenhusbandandwife.Elsie’syouthandprettinesswouldcommandmoresympathy.
OnthefollowingmorningvariouspoliceofficialsarrivedandwereshownuptoMrs.Rice’sbedroom.Theyleftatmidday.Haroldhadwiredformoneybutotherwisehadtakennopartintheproceedings—indeedhewouldhavebeenunabletodososincenoneoftheseofficialpersonagesspokeEnglish.
Attwelveo’clockMrs.Ricecametohisroom.Shelookedwhiteandtired,butthereliefonherfacetolditsownstory.Shesaidsimply:
“It’sworked!”
“Thankheaven!You’vebeenreallymarvellous!Itseemsincredible!”
Mrs.Ricesaidthoughtfully:
“Bytheeasewithwhichitwent,youmightalmostthinkitwasquitenormal.Theypracticallyheldouttheirhandsrightaway.It’s—it’sratherdisgusting,really!”
Haroldsaiddryly:
“Thisisn’tthemomenttoquarrelwiththecorruptionofthepublicservices.Howmuch?”
“Thetariff’sratherhigh.”
Shereadoutalistoffigures.
“TheChiefofPolice.TheCommissaire.TheAgent.TheDoctor.TheHotelManager.TheNightPorter.”
Harold’scommentwasmerely:
“Thenightporterdoesn’tgetmuch,doeshe?Isupposeit’smostlyaquestionofgoldlace.”
Mrs.Riceexplained:
“Themanagerstipulatedthatthedeathshouldnothavetakenplaceinhishotelatall.TheofficialstorywillbethatPhiliphadaheartattackinthetrain.Hewentalongthecorridorforair—youknowhowtheyalwaysleavethosedoorsopen—andhefelloutontheline.It’swonderfulwhatthepolicecandowhentheytry!”
“Well,”saidHarold.“ThankGodourpoliceforceisn’tlikethat.”
AndinaBritishandsuperiormoodhewentdowntolunch.
VII
AfterlunchHaroldusuallyjoinedMrs.Riceandherdaughterforcoffee.Hedecidedtomakenochangeinhisusualbehaviour.
ThiswasthefirsttimehehadseenElsiesincethenightbefore.Shewasverypaleandwasobviouslystillsufferingfromshock,butshemadeagallantendeavourtobehaveasusual,utteringsmallcommonplacesabouttheweatherandthescenery.
Theycommentedonanewguestwhohadjustarrived,tryingtoguesshisnationality.HaroldthoughtamoustachelikethatmustbeFrench—ElsiesaidGerman—andMrs.RicethoughthemightbeSpanish.
TherewasnooneelsebutthemselvesontheterracewiththeexceptionofthetwoPolishladieswhoweresittingattheextremeend,bothdoingfancywork.
Asalwayswhenhesawthem,Haroldfeltaqueershiverofapprehensionpassoverhim.Thosestillfaces,thosecurvedbeaksofnoses,thoselongclawlikehands….
ApageboyapproachedandtoldMrs.Riceshewaswanted.Sheroseandfollowedhim.Attheentrancetothehoteltheysawherencounterapoliceofficialinfulluniform.
Elsiecaughtherbreath.
“Youdon’tthink—anything’sgonewrong?”
Haroldreassuredherquickly.
“Oh,no,no,nothingofthatkind.”
Buthehimselfknewasuddenpangoffear.
Hesaid:
“Yourmother’sbeenwonderful!”
“Iknow.Motherisagreatfighter.She’llneversitdownunderdefeat.”Elsieshivered.“Butitisallhorrible,isn’tit?”
“Now,don’tdwellonit.It’salloveranddonewith.”
Elsiesaidinalowvoice:
“Ican’tforgetthat—thatitwasIwhokilledhim.”
Haroldsaidurgently:
“Don’tthinkofitthatway.Itwasanaccident.Youknowthatreally.”
Herfacegrewalittlehappier.Haroldadded:
“Andanywayit’spast.Thepastisthepast.Trynevertothinkofitagain.”
Mrs.Ricecameback.Bytheexpressiononherfacetheysawthatallwaswell
“Itgavemequiteafright,”shesaidalmostgaily.“Butitwasonlyaformalityaboutsomepapers.Everything’sallright,mychildren.We’reoutoftheshadow.Ithinkwemightorderourselvesaliqueuronthestrengthofit.”
Theliqueurwasorderedandcame.Theyraisedtheirglasses.
Mrs.Ricesaid:“TotheFuture!”
HaroldsmiledatElsieandsaid:
“Toyourhappiness!”
Shesmiledbackathimandsaidassheliftedherglass:
“Andtoyou—toyoursuccess!I’msureyou’regoingtobeaverygreatman.”
Withthereactionfromfeartheyfeltgay,almostlight-headed.Theshadowhadlifted!Allwaswell….
Fromthefarendoftheterracethetwobirdlikewomenrose.Theyrolleduptheirworkcarefully.Theycameacrossthestoneflags.
WithlittlebowstheysatdownbyMrs.Rice.Oneofthembegantospeak.TheotheronelethereyesrestonElsieandHarold.Therewasalittlesmileonherlips.Itwasnot,Haroldthought,anicesmile….
HelookedoveratMrs.Rice.ShewaslisteningtothePolishwomanandthoughhecouldn’tunderstandaword,theexpressiononMrs.Rice’sfacewasclearenough.Alltheoldanguishanddespaircameback.Shelistenedandoccasionallyspokeabriefword.
Presentlythetwosistersrose,andwithstifflittlebowswentintothehotel
Haroldleanedforward.Hesaidhoarsely:
“Whatisit?”
Mrs.Riceansweredhiminthequiethopelesstonesofdespair.
“Thosewomenaregoingtoblackmailus.Theyheardeverythinglastnight.Andnowwe’vetriedtohushitup,itmakesthewholethingathousandtimesworse.”
VIII
HaroldWaringwasdownbythelake.Hehadbeenwalkingfeverishlyforoveranhour,tryingbysheerphysicalenergytostilltheclamourofdespairthathadattackedhim.
HecameatlasttothespotwherehehadfirstnoticedthetwogrimwomenwhoheldhislifeandElsie’sintheireviltalons.Hesaidaloud:
“Cursethem!Damnthemforapairofdevilishbloodsuckingharpies!”
Aslightcoughmadehimspinround.Hefoundhimselffacingtheluxuriantlymoustachedstrangerwhohadjustcomeoutfromtheshadeofthetrees.
Haroldfounditdifficulttoknowwhattosay.Thislittlemanmusthavealmostcertainlyoverheardwhathehadjustsaid.
Harold,ataloss,saidsomewhatridiculously:
“Oh—er—goodafternoon.”
InperfectEnglishtheotherreplied:
“Butforyou,Ifear,itisnotagoodafternoon?”
“Well—er—I—”Haroldwasindifficultiesagain.
Thelittlemansaid:
“Youare,Ithink,introuble,Monsieur?CanIbeofanyassistancetoyou?”
“Ohnothanks,nothanks!Justblowingoffsteam,youknow.”
Theothersaidgently:
“ButIthink,youknow,thatIcouldhelpyou.Iamcorrect,amInot,inconnectingyourtroubleswithtwoladieswhoweresittingontheterracejustnow?”
Haroldstaredathim.
“Doyouknowanythingaboutthem?”Headded:“Whoareyou,anyway?”
Asthoughconfessingtoroyalbirththelittlemansaidmodestly:
“IamHerculePoirot.Shallwewalkalittlewayintothewoodandyoushalltellmeyourstory?AsIsay,IthinkIcanaidyou.”
Tothisday,Haroldisnotquitecertainwhatmadehimsuddenlypouroutthewholestorytoamantowhomhehadonlyspokenafewminutesbefore.Perhapsitwasoverstrain.Anyway,ithappened.HetoldHerculePoirotthewholestory.
Thelatterlistenedinsilence.Onceortwicehenoddedhisheadgravely.WhenHaroldcametoastoptheotherspokedreamily.
“TheStymphaleanBirds,withironbeaks,whofeedonhumanfleshandwhodwellbytheStymphaleanLake…Yes,itaccordsverywell.”
“Ibegyourpardon,”saidHaroldstaring.
Perhaps,hethought,thiscurious-lookinglittlemanwasmad!
HerculePoirotsmiled.
“Ireflect,thatisall.Ihavemyownwayoflookingatthings,youunderstand.Nowastothisbusinessofyours.Youareveryunpleasantlyplaced.”
Haroldsaidimpatiently:
“Idon’tneedyoutotellmethat!”
HerculePoirotwenton:
“Itisaseriousbusiness,blackmail.Theseharpieswillforceyoutopay—andpay—andpayagain!Andifyoudefythem,well,whathappens?”
Haroldsaidbitterly:
“Thewholethingcomesout.Mycareer’sruined,andawretchedgirlwho’sneverdoneanyoneanyharmwillbeputthroughhell,andGodknowswhattheendofitallwillbe!”
“Therefore,”saidHerculePoirot,“somethingmustbedone!”
Haroldsaidbaldly:“What?”
HerculePoirotleanedback,half-closinghiseyes.Hesaid(andagainadoubtabouthissanitycrossedHarold’smind):
“Itisthemomentforthecastanetsofbronze.”
Haroldsaid:
“Areyouquitemad?”
Theothershookhishead.Hesaid:
“Maisnon!Istriveonlytofollowtheexampleofmygreatpredecessor,Hercules.Haveafewhours’patience,myfriend.BytomorrowImaybeabletodeliveryoufromyourpersecutors.”
IX
HaroldWaringcamedownthefollowingmorningtofindHerculePoirotsittingaloneontheterrace.InspiteofhimselfHaroldhadbeenimpressedbyHerculePoirot’spromises.
Hecameuptohimnowandaskedanxiously:
“Well?”
HerculePoirotbeameduponhim.
“Itiswell.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Everythinghassettleditselfsatisfactorily.”
“Butwhathashappened?”
HerculePoirotreplieddreamily:
“Ihaveemployedthecastanetsofbronze.Or,inmodernparlance,Ihavecausedmetalwirestohum—inshortIhaveemployedthetelegraph!YourStymphaleanBirds,Monsieur,havebeenremovedtowheretheywillbeunabletoexercisetheiringenuityforsometimetocome.”
“Theywerewantedbythepolice?Theyhavebeenarrested?”
“Precisely.”
Harolddrewadeepbreath.
“Howmarvellous!Ineverthoughtofthat.”Hegotup.“ImustfindMrs.RiceandElsieandtellthem.”
“Theyknow.”
“Ohgood.”Haroldsatdownagain.“Tellmejustwhat—”
Hebrokeoff.
Comingupthepathfromthelakeweretwofigureswithflappingcloaksandprofileslikebirds.
Heexclaimed:
“Ithoughtyousaidtheyhadbeentakenaway!”
HerculePoirotfollowedhisglance.
“Oh,thoseladies?Theyareveryharmless;Polishladiesofgoodfamily,astheportertoldyou.Theirappearanceis,perhaps,notverypleasingbutthatisall.”
“ButIdon’tunderstand!”
“No,youdonotunderstand!Itistheotherladieswhowerewantedbythepolice—theresourcefulMrs.RiceandthelachrymoseMrs.Clayton!Itistheywhoarewell-knownbirdsofprey.Thosetwo,theymaketheirlivingbyblackmail,moncher.”
Haroldhadasensationoftheworldspinningroundhim.Hesaidfaintly:
“Buttheman—themanwhowaskilled?”
“Noonewaskilled.Therewasnoman!”
“ButIsawhim!”
“Ohno.Thetalldeep-voicedMrs.Riceisaverysuccessfulmaleimpersonator.Itwasshewhoplayedthepartofthehusband—withouthergreywigandsuitablymadeupforthepart.”
Heleanedforwardandtappedtheotherontheknee.
“Youmustnotgothroughlifebeingtoocredulous,myfriend.Thepoliceofacountryarenotsoeasilybribed—theyareprobablynottobebribedatall—certainlynotwhenitisaquestionofmurder!ThesewomentradeontheaverageEnglishman’signoranceofforeignlanguages.BecauseshespeaksFrenchorGerman,itisalwaysthisMrs.Ricewhointerviewsthemanagerandtakeschargeoftheaffair.Thepolicearriveandgotoherroom,yes!Butwhatactuallypasses?Youdonotknow.Perhapsshesaysshehaslostabrooch—somethingofthatkind.Anyexcusetoarrangeforthepolicetocomesothatyoushallseethem.Fortherest,whatactuallyhappens?Youwireformoney,alotofmoney,andyouhanditovertoMrs.Ricewhoisinchargeofallthenegotiations!Andthatisthat!Buttheyaregreedy,thesebirdsofprey.TheyhaveseenthatyouhavetakenanunreasonableaversiontothesetwounfortunatePolishladies.TheladiesinquestioncomeandholdaperfectlyinnocentconversationwithMrs.Riceandshecannotresistrepeatingthegame.Sheknowsyoucannotunderstandwhatisbeingsaid.
“SoyouwillhavetosendformoremoneywhichMrs.Ricewillpretendtodistributetoafreshsetofpeople.”
Harolddrewadeepbreath.Hesaid:
“AndElsie—Elsie?”
HerculePoirotavertedhiseyes.
“Sheplayedherpartverywell.Shealwaysdoes.Amostaccomplishedlittleactress.Everythingisverypure—veryinnocent.Sheappeals,nottosex,buttochivalry.”
HerculePoirotaddeddreamily:
“ThatisalwayssuccessfulwithEnglishmen.”
HaroldWaringdrewadeepbreath.Hesaidcrisply:
“I’mgoingtosettoworkandlearneveryEuropeanlanguagethereis!Nobody’sgoingtomakeafoolofmeasecondtime!”
Seven
THECRETANBULL
HerculePoirotlookedthoughtfullyathisvisitor.
Hesawapalefacewithadeterminedlookingchin,eyesthatweremoregreythanblue,andhairthatwasofthatrealblue-blackshadesoseldomseen—thehyacinthinelocksofancientGreece.
Henotedthewell-cut,butalsowell-worn,countrytweeds,theshabbyhandbag,andtheunconsciousarroganceofmannerthatlaybehindthegirl’sobviousnervousness.Hethoughttohimself:
“Ahyes,sheis‘theCounty’—butnomoney!Anditmustbesomethingquiteoutofthewaythatwouldbringhertome.”
DianaMaberlysaid,andhervoiceshookalittle:
“I—Idon’tknowwhetheryoucanhelpmeornot,M.Poirot.It’s—it’saveryextraordinaryposition.”
Poirotsaid:
“Butyes?Tellme?”
DianaMaberlysaid:
“I’vecometoyoubecauseIdon’tknowwhattodo!Idon’tevenknowifthereisanythingtodo!”
“Willyouletmebethejudgeofthat?”
Thecoloursurgedsuddenlyintothegirl’sface.Shesaidrapidlyandbreathlessly:
“I’vecometoyoubecausethemanI’vebeenengagedtoforoverayearhasbrokenoffourengagement.”
Shestoppedandeyedhimdefiantly.
“Youmustthink,”shesaid,“thatI’mcompletelymental.”
Slowly,HerculePoirotshookhishead.
“Onthecontrary,Mademoiselle,Ihavenodoubtwhateverbutthatyouareextremelyintelligent.Itiscertainlynotmymétierinlifetopatchupthelovers’quarrels,andIknowverywellthatyouarequiteawareofthat.Itis,therefore,thatthereissomethingunusualaboutthebreakingofthisengagement.Thatisso,isitnot?”
Thegirlnodded.Shesaidinaclear,precisevoice:
“Hughbrokeoffourengagementbecausehethinksheisgoingmad.Hethinkspeoplewhoaremadshouldnotmarry.”
HerculePoirot’seyebrowsrosealittle.
“Anddoyounotagree?”
“Idon’tknow…Whatisbeingmad,afterall?Everyoneisalittlemad.”
“Ithasbeensaidso,”Poirotagreedcautiously.
“It’sonlywhenyoubeginthinkingyou’reapoachedeggorsomethingthattheyhavetoshutyouup.”
“Andyourfiancéhasnotreachedthatstage?”
DianaMaberlysaid:
“Ican’tseethatthere’sanythingwrongwithHughatall.He’s,oh,he’sthesanestpersonIknow.Sound—dependable—”
“Thenwhydoeshethinkheisgoingmad?”
Poirotpausedamomentbeforegoingon.
“Isthere,perhaps,madnessinhisfamily?”
ReluctantlyDianajerkedherheadinassent.Shesaid:
“Hisgrandfatherwasmental,Ibelieve—andsomegreat-auntorother.ButwhatIsayis,thateveryfamilyhasgotsomeonequeerinit.Youknow,abithalf-wittedorextracleverorsomething!”
Hereyeswereappealing.
HerculePoirotshookhisheadsadly.Hesaid:
“Iamverysorryforyou,Mademoiselle.”
Herchinshotout.Shecried:
“Idon’twantyoutobesorryforme!Iwantyoutodosomething!”
“Whatdoyouwantmetodo?”
“Idon’tknow—butthere’ssomethingwrong.”
“Willyoutellme,Mademoiselle,allaboutyourfiancé?”
Dianaspokerapidly:
“HisnameisHughChandler.He’stwenty-four.HisfatherisAdmiralChandler.TheyliveatLydeManor.It’sbeenintheChandlerfamilysincethetimeofElizabeth.Hugh’stheonlyson.HewentintotheNavy—alltheChandlersaresailors—it’sasortoftradition—eversinceSirGilbertChandlersailedwithSirWalterRaleighinfifteen-something-or-other.HughwentintotheNavyasamatterofcourse.Hisfatherwouldn’thaveheardofanythingelse.Andyet—andyet,itwashisfatherwhoinsistedongettinghimoutofit!”
“Whenwasthat?”
“Nearlyayearago.Quitesuddenly.”
“WasHughChandlerhappyinhisprofession?”
“Absolutely.”
“Therewasnoscandalofanykind?”
“AboutHugh?Absolutelynothing.Hewasgettingonsplendidly.He—hecouldn’tunderstandhisfather.”
“WhatreasondidAdmiralChandlerhimselfgive?”
Dianasaidslowly:
“Heneverreallygaveareason.Oh!hesaiditwasnecessaryHughshouldlearntomanagetheestate—but—butthatwasonlyapretext.EvenGeorgeFrobisherrealizedthat.”
“WhoisGeorgeFrobisher?”
“ColonelFrobisher.He’sAdmiralChandler’soldestfriendandHugh’sgodfather.HespendsmostofhistimedownattheManor.”
“AndwhatdidColonelFrobisherthinkofAdmiralChandler’sdeterminationthathissonshouldleavetheNavy?”
“Hewasdumbfounded.Hecouldn’tunderstanditatall.Nobodycould.”
“NotevenHughChandlerhimself?”
Dianadidnotansweratonce.Poirotwaitedaminute,thenhewenton:
“Atthetime,perhaps,he,too,wasastonished.Butnow?Hashesaidnothing—nothingatall?”
Dianamurmuredreluctantly:
“Hesaid—aboutaweekago—that—thathisfatherwasright—thatitwastheonlythingtobedone.”
“Didyouaskhimwhy?”
“Ofcourse.Buthewouldn’ttellme.”
HerculePoirotreflectedforaminuteortwo.Thenhesaid:
“Havetherebeenanyunusualoccurrencesinyourpartoftheworld?Starting,perhaps,aboutayearago?Somethingthathasgivenrisetoalotoflocaltalkandsurmise?”
Sheflashedout:“Idon’tknowwhatyoumean!”
Poirotsaidquietly,butwithauthorityinhisvoice:
“Youhadbettertellme.”
“Therewasn’tanything—nothingofthekindyoumean.”
“Ofwhatkindthen?”
“Ithinkyou’resimplyodious!Queerthingsoftenhappenonfarms.It’srevenge—orthevillageidiotorsomebody.”
“Whathappened?”
Shesaidreluctantly:
“Therewasafussaboutsomesheep…Theirthroatswerecut.Oh!itwashorrid!Buttheyallbelongedtoonefarmerandhe’saveryhardman.Thepolicethoughtitwassomekindofspiteagainsthim.”
“Buttheydidn’tcatchthepersonwhohaddoneit?”
“No.”
Sheaddedfiercely.“Butifyouthink—”
Poirothelduphishand.Hesaid:
“YoudonotknowintheleastwhatIthink.Tellmethis,hasyourfiancéconsultedadoctor?”
“No,I’msurehehasn’t.”
“Wouldn’tthatbethesimplestthingforhimtodo?”
Dianasaidslowly:
“Hewon’t.He—hehatesdoctors.”
“Andhisfather?”
“Idon’tthinktheAdmiralbelievesmuchindoctorseither.Saysthey’realotofhumbugmerchants.”
“HowdoestheAdmiralseemhimself?Ishewell?Happy?”
Dianasaidinalowvoice:
“He’sagedterriblyin—in—”
“Inthelastyear?”
“Yes.He’sawreck—asortofshadowofwhatheusedtobe.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.Thenhesaid:
“Didheapproveofhisson’sengagement?”
“Ohyes.Yousee,mypeople’slandadjoinshis.We’vebeenthereforgenerations.HewasfrightfullypleasedwhenHughandIfixeditup.”
“Andnow?Whatdoeshesaytoyourengagementbeingbrokenoff?”
Thegirl’svoiceshookalittle.Shesaid:
“Imethimyesterdaymorning.Hewaslookingghastly.Hetookmyhandinbothofhis.Hesaid:‘It’shardonyou,mygirl.Buttheboy’sdoingtherightthing—theonlythinghecando.’”
“Andso,”saidHerculePoirot,“youcametome?”
Shenodded.Sheasked:“Canyoudoanything?”
HerculePoirotreplied:
“Idonotknow.ButIcanatleastcomedownandseeformyself.”
II
ItwasHughChandler’smagnificentphysiquethatimpressedHerculePoirotmorethananythingelse.Tall,magnificentlyproportioned,withaterrificchestandshoulders,andatawnyheadofhair.Therewasatremendousairofstrengthandvirilityabouthim.
OntheirarrivalatDiana’shouse,shehadatoncerungupAdmiralChandler,andtheyhadforthwithgoneovertoLydeManorwheretheyhadfoundteawaitingonthelongterrace.Andwiththetea,threemen.TherewasAdmiralChandler,whitehaired,lookingolderthanhisyears,hisshouldersbowedasthoughbyanoverheavyburden,andhiseyesdarkandbrooding.AcontrasttohimwashisfriendColonelFrobisher,adried-up,tough,littlemanwithreddishhairturninggreyatthetemples.Arestless,irascible,snappy,littleman,ratherlikeaterrier—butthepossessorofapairofextremelyshrewdeyes.Hehadahabitofdrawingdownhisbrowsoverhiseyesandloweringhishead,thrustingitforward,whilstthosesameshrewdlittleeyesstudiedyoupiercingly.ThethirdmanwasHugh.
“Finespecimen,eh?”saidColonelFrobisher.
Hespokeinalowvoice,havingnotedPoirot’sclosescrutinyoftheyoungman.
HerculePoirotnoddedhishead.HeandFrobisherweresittingclosetogether.Theotherthreehadtheirchairsonthefarsideoftheteatableandwerechattingtogetherinananimatedbutslightlyartificialmanner.
Poirotmurmured:“Yes,heismagnificent—magnificent.HeistheyoungBull—yes,onemightsaytheBulldedicatedtoPoseidon…Aperfectspecimenofhealthymanhood.”
“Looksfitenough,doesn’the?”
Frobishersighed.Hisshrewdlittleeyesstolesideways,consideringHerculePoirot.Presentlyhesaid:
“Iknowwhoyouare,youknow.”
“Ahthat,itisnosecret!”
Poirotwavedaroyalhand.Hewasnotincognito,thegestureseemedtosay.HewastravellingasHimself.
AfteraminuteortwoFrobisherasked:“Didthegirlgetyoudown—overthisbusiness?”
“Thebusiness—?”
“ThebusinessofyoungHugh…Yes,Iseeyouknowallaboutit.ButIcan’tquiteseewhyshewenttoyou…Shouldn’thavethoughtthissortofthingwasinyourline—meantersayit’smoreamedicalshow.”
“Allkindsofthingsareinmyline…Youwouldbesurprised.”
“ImeanIcan’tseequitewhatsheexpectedyoucoulddo.”
“MissMaberly,”saidPoirot,“isafighter.”
ColonelFrobishernoddedawarmassent.
“Yes,she’safighterallright.She’safinekid.Shewon’tgiveup.Allthesame,youknow,therearesomethingsthatyoucan’tfight….”
Hisfacelookedsuddenlyoldandtired.
Poirotdroppedhisvoicestilllower.Hemurmureddiscreetly:
“Thereis—insanity,Iunderstand,inthefamily?”
Frobishernodded.
“Onlycropsupnowandagain,”hemurmured.“Skipsagenerationortwo.Hugh’sgrandfatherwasthelast.”
Poirotthrewaquickglanceinthedirectionoftheotherthree.Dianawasholdingtheconversationwell,laughingandbanteringHugh.Youwouldhavesaidthatthethreeofthemhadnotacareintheworld.
“Whatformdidthemadnesstake?”Poirotaskedsoftly.
“Theoldboybecameprettyviolentintheend.Hewasperfectlyallrightuptothirty—normalascouldbe.Thenhebegantogoabitqueer.Itwassometimebeforepeoplenoticedit.Thenalotofrumoursbegangoingaround.Peoplestartedtalkingproperly.Thingshappenedthatwerehushedup.But—well,”heraisedhisshoulders,“endedupasmadasahatter,poordevil!Homicidal!Hadtobecertified.”
Hepausedforamomentandthenadded:
“Helivedtobequiteanoldman,Ibelieve…That’swhatHughisafraidof,ofcourse.That’swhyhedoesn’twanttoseeadoctor.He’safraidofbeingshutupandlivingshutupforyears.Can’tsayIblamehim.I’dfeelthesame.”
“AndAdmiralChandler,howdoeshefeel?”
“It’sbrokenhimupcompletely,”Frobisherspokeshortly.
“Heisveryfondofhisson?”
“Wrappedupintheboy.Yousee,hiswifewasdrownedinaboatingaccidentwhentheboywasonlytenyearsold.Sincethenhe’slivedfornothingbutthechild.”
“Washeverydevotedtohiswife?”
“Worshippedher.Everybodyworshippedher.Shewas—shewasoneoftheloveliestwomenI’veeverknown.”Hepausedamomentandthensaidjerkily,“Caretoseeherportrait?”
“Ishouldliketoseeitverymuch.”
Frobisherpushedbackhischairandrose.Aloudhesaid:
“GoingtoshowM.Poirotoneortwothings,Charles.He’sabitofaconnoisseur.”
TheAdmiralraisedavaguehand.FrobishertrampedalongtheterraceandPoirotfollowedhim.ForamomentDiana’sfacedroppeditsmaskofgaietyandlookedanagonizedquestion.Hugh,too,raisedhishead,andlookedsteadilyatthesmallmanwiththebigblackmoustache.
PoirotfollowedFrobisherintothehouse.Itwassodimatfirstcominginoutofthesunlightthathecouldhardlydistinguishonearticlefromanother.Butherealizedthatthehousewasfullofoldandbeautifulthings.
ColonelFrobisherledthewaytothePictureGallery.OnthepanelledwallshungportraitsofdeadandgoneChandlers.Facessternandgay,menincourtdressorinNavaluniform.Womeninsatinandpearls.
FinallyFrobisherstoppedunderaportraitattheendofthegallery.
“PaintedbyOrpen,”hesaidgruffly.
Theystoodlookingupatatallwoman,herhandonagreyhound’scollar.Awomanwithauburnhairandanexpressionofradiantvitality.
“Boy’sthespittingimageofher,”saidFrobisher.“Don’tyouthinkso?”
“Insomethings,yes.”
“Hehasn’tgotherdelicacy—herfemininity,ofcourse.He’samasculineedition—butinalltheessentialthings—”Hebrokeoff.“PityheinheritedfromtheChandlerstheonethinghecouldwellhavedonewithout….”
Theyweresilent.Therewasmelancholyintheairallaroundthem—asthoughdeadandgoneChandlerssighedforthetaintthatlayintheirbloodandwhich,remorselessly,fromtimetotime,theypassedon….
HerculePoirotturnedhisheadtolookathiscompanion.GeorgeFrobisherwasstillgazingupatthebeautifulwomanonthewallabovehim.AndPoirotsaidsoftly:
“Youknewherwell….”
Frobisherspokejerkily.
“Wewereboyandgirltogether.IwentoffasasubalterntoIndiawhenshewassixteen…WhenIgotback—shewasmarriedtoCharlesChandler.”
“Youknewhimwellalso?”
“Charlesisoneofmyoldestfriends.He’smybestfriend—alwayshasbeen.”
“Didyouseemuchofthem—afterthemarriage?”
“Usedtospendmostofmyleaveshere.Likeasecondhometome,thisplace.CharlesandCarolinealwayskeptmyroomhere—readyandwaiting…”Hesquaredhisshoulders,suddenlythrusthisheadforwardpugnaciously.“That’swhyI’mherenow—tostandbyincaseI’mwanted.IfCharlesneedsme—I’mhere.”
Againtheshadowoftragedycreptoverthem.
“Andwhatdoyouthink—aboutallthis?”Poirotasked.
Frobisherstoodstiffly.Hisbrowscamedownoverhiseyes.
“WhatIthinkis,theleastsaidthebetter.Andtobefrank,Idon’tseewhatyou’redoinginthisbusiness,M.Poirot.Idon’tseewhyDianaropedyouinandgotyoudownhere.”
“YouareawarethatDianaMaberly’sengagementtoHughChandlerhasbeenbrokenoff?”
“Yes,Iknowthat.”
“Andyouknowthereasonforit?”
Frobisherrepliedstiffly:
“Idon’tknowanythingaboutthat.Youngpeoplemanagethesethingsbetweenthem.Notmybusinesstobuttin.”
Poirotsaid:
“HughChandlertoldDianathatitwasnotrightthattheyshouldmarry,becausehewasgoingoutofhismind.”
HesawthebeadsofperspirationbreakoutonFrobisher’sforehead.Hesaid:
“Havewegottotalkaboutthedamnedthing?Whatdoyouthinkyoucando?Hugh’sdonetherightthing,poordevil.It’snothisfault,it’sheredity—germplasm—braincells…Butonceheknew,well,whatelsecouldhedobutbreaktheengagement?It’soneofthosethingsthatjusthastobedone.”
“IfIcouldbeconvincedofthat—”
“Youcantakeitfromme.”
“Butyouhavetoldmenothing.”
“ItellyouIdon’twanttotalkaboutit.”
“WhydidAdmiralChandlerforcehissontoleavetheNavy?”
“Becauseitwastheonlythingtobedone.”
“Why?”
Frobishershookanobstinatehead.
Poirotmurmuredsoftly:
“Wasittodowithsomesheepbeingkilled?”
Theothermansaidangrily:
“Soyou’veheardaboutthat?”
“Dianatoldme.”
“Thatgirlhadfarbetterkeephermouthshut.”
“Shedidnotthinkitwasconclusive.”
“Shedoesn’tknow.”
“Whatdoesn’tsheknow?”
Unwillingly,jerkily,angrily,Frobisherspoke:
“Ohwell,ifyoumusthaveit…Chandlerheardanoisethatnight.Thoughtitmightbesomeonegotinthehouse.Wentouttoinvestigate.Lightintheboy’sroom.Chandlerwentin.Hughasleeponbed—deadasleep—inhisclothes.Bloodontheclothes.Basinintheroomfullofblood.Hisfathercouldn’twakehim.Nextmorningheardaboutsheepbeingfoundwiththeirthroatscut.QuestionedHugh.Boydidn’tknowanythingaboutit.Didn’tremembergoingout—andhisshoesfoundbythesidedoorcakedinmud.Couldn’texplainthebloodinthebasin.Couldn’texplainanything.Poordevildidn’tknow,youunderstand.
“Charlescametome,talkeditover.Whatwasthebestthingtobedone?Thenithappenedagain—threenightslater.Afterthat—well,youcanseeforyourself.Theboyhadgottoleavetheservice.Ifhewashere,underCharles’eye,Charlescouldwatchoverhim.Couldn’taffordtohaveascandalintheNavy.Yes,itwastheonlythingtobedone.”
Poirotasked:“Andsincethen?”
Frobishersaidfiercely,“I’mnotansweringanymorequestions.Don’tyouthinkHughknowshisownbusinessbest?”
HerculePoirotdidnotanswer.HewasalwaysloathtoadmitthatanyonecouldknowbetterthanHerculePoirot.
III
Astheycameintothehall,theymetAdmiralChandlercomingin.Hestoodforamoment,adarkfiguresilhouettedagainstthebrightlightoutside.
Hesaidinalow,gruffvoice:
“Ohthereyoubothare.M.Poirot,Iwouldlikeawordwithyou.Comeintomystudy.”
Frobisherwentoutthroughtheopendoor,andPoirotfollowedtheAdmiral.Hehadratherthefeelingofhavingbeensummonedtothequarterdecktogiveanaccountofhimself.
TheAdmiralmotionedPoirottotakeoneofthebigeasychairsandhimselfsatdownintheother.Poirot,whilstwithFrobisher,hadbeenimpressedbytheother’srestlessness,nervousnessandirritability—allthesignsofintensementalstrain.WithAdmiralChandlerhefeltasenseofhopelessness,ofquiet,deepdespair….
Withadeepsigh,Chandlersaid:“Ican’thelpbeingsorryDianahasbroughtyouintothis…Poorchild,Iknowhowharditisforher.But—well—itisourownprivatetragedy,andIthinkyouwillunderstand,M.Poirot,thatwedon’twantoutsiders.”
“Icanunderstandyourfeeling,certainly.”
“Diana,poorchild,can’tbelieveitIcouldn’tatfirst.Probablywouldn’tbelieveitnowifIdidn’tknow—”
Hepaused.
“Knowwhat?”
“Thatit’sintheblood.Thetaint,Imean.”
“Andyetyouagreedtotheengagement?”
AdmiralChandlerflushed.
“Youmean,Ishouldhaveputmyfootdownthen?ButatthetimeI’dnoidea.Hughtakesafterhismother—nothingabouthimtoremindyouoftheChandlers.Ihopedhe’dtakenafterherineveryway.Fromhischildhoodupwards,there’sneverbeenatraceofabnormalityabouthimuntilnow.Icouldn’tknowthat—dashitall,there’satraceofinsanityinnearlyeveryoldfamily!”
Poirotsaidsoftly:“Youhavenotconsultedadoctor?”
Chandlerroared:“No,andI’mnotgoingto!Theboy’ssafeenoughherewithmetolookafterhim.Theyshan’tshuthimupbetweenfourwallslikeawildbeast….”
“Heissafehere,yousay.Butareotherssafe?”
“Whatdoyoumeanbythat?”
Poirotdidnotreply.HelookedsteadilyintoAdmiralChandler’ssad,darkeyes.
TheAdmiralsaidbitterly:
“Eachmantohistrade.You’relookingforacriminal!Myboy’snotacriminal,M.Poirot.”
“Notyet.”
“Whatdoyoumeanby‘notyet?’”
“Thesethingsincrease…Thosesheep—”
“Whotoldyouaboutthesheep?”
“DianaMaberly.AndalsoyourfriendColonelFrobisher.”
“Georgewouldhavedonebettertokeephismouthshut.”
“Heisaveryoldfriendofyoursishenot?”
“Mybestfriend,”theAdmiralsaidgruffly.
“Andhewasafriendof—yourwife’stoo?”
Chandlersmiled.
“Yes.GeorgewasinlovewithCaroline,Ibelieve.Whenshewasveryyoung.He’snevermarried.Ibelievethat’sthereason.Ahwell,Iwastheluckyone—orsoIthought.Icarriedheroff—onlytoloseher.”
Hesighedandhisshoulderssagged.
Poirotsaid:“ColonelFrobisherwaswithyouwhenyourwifewas—drowned?”
Chandlernodded.
“Yes,hewaswithusdowninCornwallwhenithappened.SheandIwereoutintheboattogether—hehappenedtostayathomethatday.I’veneverunderstoodhowthatboatcametocapsize…Musthavesprungasuddenleak.Wewererightoutinthebay—strongtiderunning.IheldherupaslongasIcould…”Hisvoicebroke.“Herbodywaswasheduptwodayslater.ThanktheLordwehadn’ttakenlittleHughoutwithus!Atleast,that’swhatIthoughtatthetime.Now—well—betterforHugh,poordevil,perhaps,ifhehadbeenwithus.Ifithadallbeenfinishedanddoneforthen….”
Againtherecamethatdeep,hopelesssigh.
“We’rethelastoftheChandlers,M.Poirot.TherewillbenomoreChandlersatLydeafterwe’regone.WhenHughgotengagedtoDiana,Ihoped—well,it’snogoodtalkingofthat.ThankGod,theydidn’tmarry.That’sallIcansay!”
IV
HerculePoirotsatonaseatintherosegarden.BesidehimsatHughChandler.DianaMaberlyhadjustleftthem.
Theyoungmanturnedahandsome,torturedfacetowardshiscompanion.
Hesaid:
“You’vegottomakeherunderstand,M.Poirot.”
Hepausedforaminuteandthenwenton:
“Yousee,Di’safighter.Shewon’tgivein.Shewon’tacceptwhatshe’sdarnedwellgottoaccept.She—shewillgoonbelievingthatI’m—sane.”
“Whileyouyourselfarequitecertainthatyouare—pardonme—insane?”
Theyoungmanwinced.Hesaid:
“I’mnotactuallyhopelesslyoffmyheadyet—butit’sgettingworse.Dianadoesn’tknow,blessher.She’sonlyseenmewhenIam—allright.”
“Andwhenyouare—allwrong,whathappens?”
HughChandlertookalongbreath.Thenhesaid:
“Foronething—Idream.AndwhenIdream,Iammad.Lastnight,forinstance—Iwasn’tamananylonger.Iwasfirstofallabull—amadbull—racingaboutinblazingsunlight—tastingdustandbloodinmymouth—dustandblood…AndthenIwasadog—agreatslaveringdog.Ihadhydrophobia—childrenscatteredandfledasIcame—mentriedtoshootme—someonesetdownagreatbowlofwaterformeandIcouldn’tdrink.Icouldn’tdrink….”
Hepaused.“Iwokeup.AndIknewitwastrue.Iwentovertothewashstand.Mymouthwasparched—horriblyparched—anddry.Iwasthirsty.ButIcouldn’tdrink,M.Poirot…Icouldn’tswallow…Oh,myGod,Iwasn’tabletodrink….”
HerculePoirotmadeagentlemurmur.HughChandlerwenton.Hishandswereclenchedonhisknees.Hisfacewasthrustforward,hiseyeswerehalfclosedasthoughhesawsomethingcomingtowardshim.
“Andtherearethingsthataren’tdreams.ThingsthatIseewhenI’mwideawake.Spectres,frightfulshapes.Theyleeratme.AndsometimesI’mabletofly,toleavemybed,andflythroughtheair,toridethewinds—andfiendsbearmecompany!”
“Tcha,tcha,”saidHerculePoirot.
Itwasagentle,deprecatinglittlenoise.
HughChandlerturnedtohim.
“Oh,thereisn’tanydoubt.It’sinmyblood.It’smyfamilyheritage.Ican’tescape.ThankGodIfounditoutintime!BeforeI’dmarriedDiana.Supposewe’dhadachildandhandedonthisfrightfulthingtohim!”
HelaidahandonPoirot’sarm.
“Youmustmakeherunderstand.Youmusttellher.She’sgottoforget.She’sgotto.Therewillbesomeoneelsesomeday.There’syoungSteveGraham—he’scrazyaboutherandhe’sanawfullygoodchap.She’dbehappywithhim—andsafe.Iwanther—tobehappy.Graham’shardup,ofcourse,andsoareherpeople,butwhenI’mgonethey’llbeallright.”
Hercule’svoiceinterruptedhim.
“Whywilltheybe‘allright’whenyouaregone?”
HughChandlersmiled.Itwasagentle,lovablesmile.Hesaid:
“There’smymother’smoney.Shewasanheiress,youknow.Itcametome.I’veleftitalltoDiana.”
HerculePoirotsatbackinhischair.Hesaid:“Ah!”
Thenhesaid:
“Butyoumaylivetobequiteanoldman,Mr.Chandler.”
HughChandlershookhishead.Hesaidsharply:
“No,M.Poirot.Iamnotgoingtolivetobeanoldman.”
Thenhedrewbackwithasuddenshudder
“MyGod!Look!”HestaredoverPoirot’sshoulder.“There—standingbyyou…it’saskeleton—itsbonesareshaking.It’scallingtome—beckoning—”
Hiseyes,thepupilswidelydilated,staredintothesunshine.Heleanedsuddenlysidewaysasthoughcollapsing.
Then,turningtoPoirot,hesaidinanalmostchildlikevoice:
“Youdidn’tsee—anything?”
Slowly,HerculePoirotshookhishead.
HughChandlersaidhoarsely:
“Idon’tmindthissomuch—seeingthings.It’sthebloodI’mfrightenedof.Thebloodinmyroom—onmyclothes…Wehadaparrot.Onemorningitwasthereinmyroomwithitsthroatcut—andIwaslyingonthebedwiththerazorinmyhandwetwithitsblood!”
HeleantclosertoPoirot.
“Evenjustlatelythingshavebeenkilled,”hewhispered.“Allaround—inthevillage—outonthedowns.Sheep,younglambs—acolliedog.Fatherlocksmeinatnight,butsometimes—sometimes—thedoor’sopeninthemorning.ImusthaveakeyhiddensomewherebutIdon’tknowwhereI’vehiddenit.Idon’tknow.Itisn’tIwhodothesethings—it’ssomeoneelsewhocomesintome—whotakespossessionofme—whoturnsmefromamanintoaravingmonsterwhowantsbloodandwhocan’tdrinkwater….”
Suddenlyheburiedhisfaceinhishands.
Afteraminuteortwo,Poirotasked:
“Istilldonotunderstandwhyyouhavenotseenadoctor?”
HughChandlershookhishead.Hesaid:
“Don’tyoureallyunderstand?PhysicallyI’mstrong.I’masstrongasabull.Imightliveforyears—years—shutupbetweenfourwalls!ThatIcan’tface!Itwouldbebettertogooutaltogether…Thereareways,youknow.Anaccident,cleaningagun…thatsortofthing.Dianawillunderstand…I’drathertakemyownwayout!”
HelookeddefiantlyatPoirot,butPoirotdidnotrespondtothechallenge.Insteadheaskedmildly:
“Whatdoyoueatanddrink?”
HughChandlerflunghisheadback.Heroaredwithlaughter.
“Nightmaresafterindigestion?Isthatyouridea?”
Poirotmerelyrepeatedgently:
“Whatdoyoueatanddrink?”
“Justwhateverybodyelseeatsanddrinks.”
“Nospecialmedicine?Cachets?Pills?”
“GoodLord,no.Doyoureallythinkpatentpillswouldcuremytrouble?”Hequotedderisively:“‘Canstthouthenministertoaminddiseased?’”
HerculePoirotsaiddrily:
“Iamtryingto.Doesanyoneinthishousesufferwitheyetrouble?”
HughChandlerstaredathim.Hesaid:
“Father’seyesgivehimagooddealoftrouble.Hehastogotoanoculistfairlyoften.”
“Ah!”Poirotmeditatedforamomentortwo.Thenhesaid:
“ColonelFrobisher,Isuppose,hasspentmuchofhislifeinIndia?”
“Yes,hewasintheIndianArmy.He’sverykeenonIndia—talksaboutitalot—nativetraditions—andallthat.”
Poirotmurmured“Ah!”again.
Thenheremarked:
“Iseethatyouhavecutyourchin.”
Hughputhishandup.
“Yes,quiteanastygash.FatherstartledmeonedaywhenIwasshaving.I’mabitnervythesedays,youknow.AndI’vehadabitofarashovermychinandneck.Makesshavingdifficult.”
Poirotsaid:
“Youshoulduseasoothingcream.”
“Oh,Ido.UncleGeorgegavemeone.”
Hegaveasuddenlaugh.
“We’retalkinglikeawoman’sbeautyparlour.Lotions,soothingcreams,patentpills,eyetrouble.Whatdoesitallamountto?Whatareyougettingat,M.Poirot?”
Poirotsaidquietly:
“IamtryingtodothebestIcanforDianaMaberly.”
Hugh’smoodchanged.Hisfacesobered.HelaidahandonPoirot’sarm.
“Yes,dowhatyoucanforher.Tellhershe’sgottoforget.Tellherthatit’snogoodhoping…TellhersomeofthethingsI’vetoldyou…Tellher—oh,tellherforGod’ssaketokeepawayfromme!That’stheonlythingshecandoformenow.Keepaway—andtrytoforget!”
V
“Haveyoucourage,Mademoiselle?Greatcourage?Youwillneedit.”
Dianacriedsharply:
“Thenit’strue.It’strue?Heismad?”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Iamnotanalienist,Mademoiselle.ItisnotIwhocansay,‘Thismanismad.Thismanissane.’”
Shecameclosertohim.
“AdmiralChandlerthinksHughismad.GeorgeFrobisherthinksheismad.Hughhimselfthinksheismad—”
Poirotwaswatchingher.
“Andyou,Mademoiselle?”
“I?Isayheisn’tmad!That’swhy—”
Shestopped.
“Thatiswhyyoucametome?”
“Yes.Icouldn’thavehadanyotherreasonforcomingtoyou,couldI?”
“That,”saidHerculePoirot,“isexactlywhatIhavebeenaskingmyself,Mademoiselle!”
“Idon’tunderstandyou.”
“WhoisStephenGraham?”
Shestared.
“StephenGraham?Oh,he’s—he’sjustsomeone.”
Shecaughthimbythearm.
“What’sinyourmind?Whatareyouthinkingabout?Youjuststandthere—behindthatgreatmoustacheofyours—blinkingyoureyesinthesunlight,andyoudon’ttellmeanything.You’remakingmeafraid—horriblyafraid.Whyareyoumakingmeafraid?”
“Perhaps,”saidPoirot,“becauseIamafraidmyself.”
Thedeepgreyeyesopenedwide,staredupathim.Shesaidinawhisper:
“Whatareyouafraidof?”
HerculePoirotsighed—adeepsigh.Hesaid:
“Itismucheasiertocatchamurdererthanitistopreventamurder.”
Shecriedout:“Murder?Don’tusethatword.”
“Nevertheless,”saidHerculePoirot,“Idouseit.”
Healteredhistone,speakingquicklyandauthoritatively.
“Mademoiselle,itisnecessarythatbothyouandIshouldpassthenightatLydeManor.Ilooktoyoutoarrangethematter.Youcandothat?”
“I—yes—Isupposeso.Butwhy—?”
“Becausethereisnotimetolose.Youhavetoldmethatyouhavecourage.Provethatcouragenow.DowhatIaskandmakenoquestionsaboutit.”
Shenoddedwithoutawordandturnedaway.
Poirotfollowedherintothehouseafterthelapseofamomentortwo.Heheardhervoiceinthelibraryandthevoicesofthreemen.Hepassedupthebroadstaircase.Therewasnooneontheupperfloor.
HefoundHughChandler’sroomeasilyenough.Inthecorneroftheroomwasafittedwashbasinwithhotandcoldwater.Overit,onaglassshelf,werevarioustubesandpotsandbottles.
HerculePoirotwentquicklyanddexterouslytowork….
Whathehadtododidnottakehimlong.HewasdownstairsagaininthehallwhenDianacameoutofthelibrary,lookingflushedandrebellious.
“It’sallright,”shesaid.
AdmiralChandlerdrewPoirotintothelibraryandclosedthedoor.Hesaid:“Lookhere,M.Poirot.Idon’tlikethis.”
“Whatdon’tyoulike,AdmiralChandler?”
“Dianahasbeeninsistingthatyouandsheshouldbothspendthenighthere.Idon’twanttobeinhospitable—”
“Itisnotaquestionofhospitality.”
“AsIsay,Idon’tlikebeinginhospitable—butfrankly,Idon’tlikeit,M.Poirot.I—Idon’twantit.AndIdon’tunderstandthereasonforit.Whatgoodcanitpossiblydo?”
“ShallwesaythatitisanexperimentIamtrying?”
“Whatkindofanexperiment?”
“That,youwillpardonme,ismybusiness….”
“Nowlookhere,M.Poirot,Ididn’taskyoutocomehereinthefirstplace—”
Poirotinterrupted.
“Believeme,AdmiralChandler,Iquiteunderstandandappreciateyourpointofview.Iamheresimplyandsolelybecauseoftheobstinacyofagirlinlove.Youhavetoldmecertainthings.ColonelFrobisherhastoldmecertainthings.Hughhimselfhastoldmecertainthings.Now—Iwanttoseeformyself.”
“Yes,butseewhat?Itellyou,there’snothingtosee!IlockHughintohisroomeverynightandthat’sthat.”
“Andyet—sometimes—hetellsmethatthedoorisnotlockedinthemorning?”
“What’sthat?”
“Haveyounotfoundthedoorunlockedyourself?”
Chandlerwasfrowning.
“IalwaysimaginedGeorgehadunlocked—whatdoyoumean?”
“Wheredoyouleavethekey—inthelock?”
“No,Ilayitonthechestoutside.I,orGeorge,orWithers,thevalet,takeitfromthereinthemorning.We’vetoldWithersit’sbecauseHughwalksinhissleep…Idaresayheknowsmore—buthe’safaithfulfellow,beenwithmeforyears.”
“Isthereanotherkey?”
“NotthatIknowof.”
“Onecouldhavebeenmade.”
“Butwho—”
“Yoursonthinksthathehimselfhasonehiddensomewhere,althoughheisunawareofitinhiswakingstate.”
ColonelFrobisher,speakingfromthefarendoftheroom,said:
“Idon’tlikeit,Charles…Thegirl—”
AdmiralChandlersaidquickly:“JustwhatIwasthinking.Thegirlmustn’tcomebackwithyou.Comebackyourself,ifyoulike.”
Poirotsaid:“Whydon’tyouwantMissMaberlyheretonight?”
Frobishersaidinalowvoice:
“It’stoorisky.Inthesecases—”
Hestopped.
Poirotsaid:“Hughisdevotedtoher….”
Chandlercried:“That’sjustwhy!Damnitall,man,everything’stopsy-turvywhereamadman’sconcerned.Hughknowsthathimself.Dianamustn’tcomehere.”
“Astothat,”saidPoirot,“Dianamustdecideforherself.”
Hewentoutofthelibrary.Dianawaswaitingoutsideinthecar.Shecalledout,“We’llgetwhatwewantforthenightandbebackintimefordinner.”
Astheydrovedownthelongdrive,PoirotrepeatedtohertheconversationhehadjustheldwiththeAdmiralandColonelFrobisher.Shelaughedscornfully.
“DotheythinkHughwouldhurtme?”
Bywayofreply,Poirotaskedherifshewouldmindstoppingatthechemist’sinthevillage.Hehadforgotten,hesaid,topackatoothbrush.
Thechemist’sshopwasinthemiddleofthepeacefulvillagestreet.Dianawaitedoutsideinthecar.ItstruckherthatHerculePoirotwasalongtimechoosingatoothbrush….
VI
InthebigbedroomwiththeheavyElizabethan,oakfurniture,HerculePoirotsatandwaited.Therewasnothingtodobutwait.Allhisarrangementsweremade.
Itwastowardsearlymorningthatthesummonscame.
Atthesoundoffootstepsoutside,Poirotdrewbacktheboltandopenedthedoor.Thereweretwomeninthepassageoutside—twomiddle-agedmenwholookedolderthantheiryears.TheAdmiralwasstern-facedandgrim,ColonelFrobishertwitchedandtrembled.
Chandlersaidsimply:
“Willyoucomewithus,M.Poirot?”
TherewasahuddledfigurelyingoutsideDianaMaberly’sbedroomdoor.Thelightfellonarumpled,tawnyhead.HughChandlerlaytherebreathingstertorously.Hewasinhisdressinggownandslippers.Inhisrighthandwasasharplycurved,shiningknife.Notallofitwasshining—hereandthereitwasobscuredbyredglisteningpatches.
HerculePoirotexclaimedsoftly:
“MonDieu!”
Frobishersaidsharply:
“She’sallright.Hehasn’ttouchedher.”Heraisedhisvoiceandcalled:“Diana!It’sus!Letusin!”
PoirotheardtheAdmiralgroanandmutterunderhisbreath:
“Myboy.Mypoorboy.”
Therewasasoundofboltsbeingdrawn.ThedooropenedandDianastoodthere.Herfacewasdeadwhite.
Shefalteredout:
“What’shappened?Therewassomeone—tryingtogetin—Iheardthem—feelingthedoor—thehandle—scratchingonthepanels—Oh!itwasawful…likeananimal….”
Frobishersaidsharply:
“ThankGodyourdoorwaslocked!”
“M.Poirottoldmetolockit.”
Poirotsaid:
“Lifthimupandbringhiminside.”
Thetwomenstoopedandraisedtheunconsciousman.Dianacaughtherbreathwithalittlegaspastheypassedher.
“Hugh?IsitHugh?What’sthat—onhishands?”
HughChandler’shandswerestickyandwetwithabrownish,redstain.
Dianabreathed:“Isthatblood?”
Poirotlookedinquiringlyatthetwomen.TheAdmiralnodded.Hesaid:
“Nothuman,thankGod!Acat!Ifounditdownstairsinthehall.Throatcut.Afterwardshemusthavecomeuphere—”
“Here?”Diana’svoicewaslowwithhorror.“Tome?”
Themanonthechairstirred—muttered.Theywatchedhim,fascinated.HughChandlersatup.Heblinked.
“Hallo,”hisvoicewasdazed—hoarse.“What’shappened?WhyamI—?”
Hestopped.Hewasstaringattheknifewhichheheldstillclaspedinhishand.
Hesaidinaslow,thickvoice:
“WhathaveIdone?”
Hiseyeswentfromonetotheother.TheyrestedatlastonDianashrinkingbackagainstthewall.Hesaidquietly:
“DidIattackDiana?”
Hisfathershookhishead.Hughsaid:
“Tellmewhathashappened?I’vegottoknow!”
Theytoldhim—toldhimunwillingly—haltingly.Hisquietperseverancedrewitoutofthem.
Outsidethewindowthesunwascomingup.HerculePoirotdrewacurtainaside.Theradianceofthedawncameintotheroom.
HughChandler’sfacewascomposed,hisvoicewassteady.
Hesaid:
“Isee.”
Thenhegotup.Hesmiledandstretchedhimself.Hisvoicewasquitenaturalashesaid:
“Beautifulmorning,what?ThinkI’llgooutinthewoodsandtrytogetarabbit.”
Hewentoutoftheroomandleftthemstaringafterhim.
ThentheAdmiralstartedforward.Frobishercaughthimbythearm.
“No,Charles,no.It’sthebestway—forhim,poordevil,iffornobodyelse.”
Dianahadthrownherselfsobbingonthebed.
AdmiralChandlersaid,hisvoicecomingunevenly:
“You’reright,George—you’reright,Iknow.Theboy’sgotguts….”
Frobishersaid,andhisvoice,too,wasbroken:
“He’saman.”
Therewasamoment’ssilenceandthenChandlersaid:
“Damnit,where’sthatcursedforeigner?”
VII
Inthegunroom,HughChandlerhadliftedhisgunfromtherackandwasintheactofloadingitwhenHerculePoirot’shandfellonhisshoulder.
HerculePoirot’svoicesaidonewordandsaiditwithastrangeauthority.Hesaid:
“No!”
HughChandlerstaredathim.Hesaidinathick,angryvoice:“Takeyourhandsoffme.Don’tinterfere.There’sgoingtobeanaccident,Itellyou.It’stheonlywayout.”
AgainHerculePoirotrepeatedthatoneword:
“No.”
“Don’tyourealizethatifithadn’tbeenfortheaccidentofherdoorbeinglocked,IwouldhavecutDiana’sthroat—Diana’s!—withthatknife?”
“Irealizenothingofthekind.YouwouldnothavekilledMissMaberly.”
“Ikilledthatcat,didn’tI?”
“No,youdidnotkillthecat.Youdidnotkilltheparrot.Youdidnotkillthesheep.”
Hughstaredathim.Hedemanded:
“Areyoumad,oramI?”
HerculePoirotreplied:
“Neitherofusismad.”
ItwasatthatmomentthatAdmiralChandlerandColonelFrobishercamein.BehindthemcameDiana.
HughChandlersaidinaweak,dazedvoice:
“ThischapsaysI’mnotmad….”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Iamhappytotellyouthatyouareentirelyandcompletelysane.”
Hughlaughed.Itwasalaughsuchasalunaticmightpopularlybesupposedtogive.
“That’sdamnedfunny!It’ssane,isit,tocutthethroatsofsheepandotheranimals?Iwassane,wasI,whenIkilledthatparrot?Andthecattonight?”
“Itellyouyoudidnotkillthesheep—ortheparrot—orthecat.”
“Thenwhodid?”
“Someonewhohashadatheartthesoleobjectofprovingyouinsane.Oneachoccasionyouweregivenaheavysoporificandablood-stainedknifeorrazorwasplantedbyyou.Itwassomeoneelsewhosebloodyhandswerewashedinyourbasin.”
“Butwhy?”
“InorderthatyoushoulddowhatyouwerejustabouttodowhenIstoppedyou.”
Hughstared.PoirotturnedtoColonelFrobisher.
“ColonelFrobisher,youlivedformanyyearsinIndia.Didyounevercomeacrosscaseswherepersonsweredeliberatelydrivenmadbytheadministrationofdrugs?”
ColonelFrobisher’sfacelitup.Hesaid:
“Nevercameacrossacasemyself,butI’veheardofthemoftenenough.Daturapoisoning.Itendsbydrivingapersoninsane.”
“Exactly.Well,theactiveprincipleofthedaturaisverycloselyalliedto,ifitisnotactually,thealkaloidatropine—whichisalsoobtainedfrombelladonnaordeadlynightshade.Belladonnapreparationsarefairlycommonandatropinesulphateitselfisprescribedfreelyforeyetreatments.Byduplicatingaprescriptionandgettingitmadeupindifferentplacesalargequantityofthepoisoncouldbeobtainedwithoutarousingsuspicion.Thealkaloidcouldbeextractedfromitandthenintroducedinto,say—asoothingshavingcream.Appliedexternallyitwouldcausearash,thiswouldsoonleadtoabrasionsinshavingandthusthedrugwouldbecontinuallyenteringthesystem.Itwouldproducecertainsymptoms—drynessofthemouthandthroat,difficultyinswallowing,hallucinations,doublevision—allthesymptoms,infact,whichMr.Chandlerhasexperienced.”
Heturnedtotheyoungman.
“Andtoremovethelastdoubtfrommymind,Iwilltellyouthatthatisnotasuppositionbutafact.Yourshavingcreamwasheavilyimpregnatedwithatropinesulphate.Itookasampleandhadittested.”
White,shaking,Hughasked:
“Whodidit?Why?”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“ThatiswhatIhavebeenstudyingeversinceIarrivedhere.Ihavebeenlookingforamotiveformurder.DianaMaberlygainedfinanciallybyyourdeath,butIdidnotconsiderherseriously—”
HughChandlerflashedout:
“Ishouldhopenot!”
“Ienvisagedanotherpossiblemotive.Theeternaltriangle;twomenandawoman.ColonelFrobisherhadbeeninlovewithyourmother,AdmiralChandlermarriedher.”
AdmiralChandlercriedout:
“George?George!Iwon’tbelieveit.”
Hughsaidinanincredulousvoice:
“Doyoumeanthathatredcouldgoon—toason?”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Undercertaincircumstances,yes.”
Frobishercriedout:
“It’sadamnedlie!Don’tbelievehim,Charles.”
Chandlershrankawayfromhim.Hemutteredtohimself:
“Thedatura…India—yes,Isee…Andwe’dneversuspectpoison—notwithmadnessinthefamilyalready….”
“Maisoui!”HerculePoirot’svoicerosehighandshrill.“Madnessinthefamily.Amadman—bentonrevenge—cunning—asmadmenare,concealinghismadnessforyears.”HewhirledroundonFrobisher.“MonDieu,youmusthaveknown,youmusthavesuspected,thatHughwasyourson?Whydidyounevertellhimso?”
Frobisherstammered,gulped.
“Ididn’tknow.Icouldn’tbesure…Yousee,Carolinecametomeonce—shewasfrightenedofsomething—ingreattrouble.Idon’tknow,Ineverhaveknown,whatitwasallabout.She—I—welostourheads.AfterwardsIwentawayatonce—itwastheonlythingtobedone,webothknewwe’dgottoplaythegame.I—well,Iwondered,butIcouldn’tbesure.CarolineneversaidanythingthatledmetothinkHughwasmyson.Andthenwhenthis—thisstreakofmadnessappeared,itsettledthingsdefinitely,Ithought.”
Poirotsaid:
“Yes,itsettledthings!Youcouldnotseethewaytheboyhasofthrustingouthisfaceandbringingdownhisbrows—atrickheinheritedfromyou.ButCharlesChandlersawit.Sawityearsago—andlearntthetruthfromhiswife.Ithinkshewasafraidofhim—he’dbeguntoshowherthemadstreak—thatwaswhatdroveherintoyourarms—youwhomshehadalwaysloved.CharlesChandlerplannedhisrevenge.Hiswifediedinaboatingaccident.Heandshewereoutintheboataloneandheknowshowthataccidentcameabout.Thenhesettleddowntofeedhisconcentratedhatredagainsttheboywhoborehisnamebutwhowasnothisson.YourIndianstoriesputtheideaofdaturapoisoningintohishead.Hughshouldbeslowlydrivenmad.Driventothestagewherehewouldtakehisownlifeindespair.ThebloodlustwasAdmiralChandler’s,notHugh’s.ItwasCharlesChandlerwhowasdriventocutthethroatsofsheepinlonelyfields.ButitwasHughwhowastopaythepenalty!
“DoyouknowwhenIsuspected?WhenAdmiralChandlerwassoaversetohissonseeingadoctor.ForHughtoobjectwasnaturalenough.Butthefather!Theremightbetreatmentwhichwouldsavehisson—therewereahundredreasonswhyheshouldseektohaveadoctor’sopinion.Butno,adoctormustnotbeallowedtoseeHughChandler—incaseadoctorshoulddiscoverthatHughwassane!”
Hughsaidveryquietly:
“Sane…Iamsane?”
HetookasteptowardsDiana.Frobishersaidinagruffvoice:
“You’resaneenough.There’snotaintinourfamily.”
Dianasaid:
“Hugh.”
AdmiralChandlerpickedupHugh’sgun.Hesaid:
“Allalotofnonsense!ThinkI’llgoandseeifIcangetarabbit—”
Frobisherstartedforward,butthehandofHerculePoirotrestrainedhim.Poirotsaid:
“Yousaidyourself—justnow—thatitwasthebestway….”
HughandDianahadgonefromtheroom.
Thetwomen,theEnglishmanandtheBelgian,watchedthelastoftheChandlerscrosstheParkandgoupintothewoods.
Presently,theyheardashot….
Eight
THEHORSESOFDIOMEDES
Thetelephonerang.
“Hallo,Poirot,isthatyou?”
HerculePoirotrecognizedthevoiceasthatofyoungDr.Stoddart.HelikedMichaelStoddart,likedtheshyfriendlinessofhisgrin,wasamusedbyhisna?veinterestincrime,andrespectedhimasahardworkingandshrewdmaninhischosenprofession.
“Idon’tlikebotheringyou—”thevoicewentonandhesitated.
“Butsomethingisbotheringyou?”suggestedHerculePoirotacutely.
“Exactly.”MichaelStoddart’svoicesoundedrelieved.“Hititinone!”
“Ehbien,whatcanIdoforyou,myfriend?”
Stoddartsoundeddiffident.Hestammeredalittlewhenheanswered.
“Isupposeitwouldbeawfulc-c-cheekifIaskedyoutocomeroundatthistimeofnight…B-b-butI’minabitofaj-j-jam.”
“CertainlyIwillcome.Toyourhouse?”
“No—asamatteroffactI’mattheMewsthatrunsalongbehind.ConningbyMews.Thenumberis17.Couldyoureallycome?I’dbenoendgrateful.”
“Iarriveimmediately,”repliedHerculePoirot.
II
HerculePoirotwalkedalongthedarkMewslookingupatthenumbers.Itwaspastoneo’clockinthemorningandforthemostparttheMewsappearedtohavegonetobed,thoughtherewerestilllightsinoneortwowindows.
Ashereached17,itsdooropenedandDr.Stoddartstoodlookingout.
“Goodman!”hesaid.“Comeup,willyou?”
Asmallladderlikestairwayledtotheupperfloor.Here,ontheright,wasafairlybigroom,furnishedwithdivans,rugs,triangularsilvercushionsandlargenumbersofbottlesandglasses.
Everythingwasmoreorlessinconfusion,cigaretteendswereeverywhereandthereweremanybrokenglasses.
“Ha!”saidHerculePoirot.“MoncherWatson,Ideducethattherehasbeenhereaparty!”
“There’sbeenapartyallright,”saidStoddartgrimly.“Someparty,Ishouldsay!”
“Youdidnot,then,attendityourself?”
“No,I’mherestrictlyinmyprofessionalcapacity.”
“Whathappened?”
Stoddartsaid:
“ThisplacebelongstoawomancalledPatienceGrace—Mrs.PatienceGrace.”
“Itsounds,”saidPoirot,“acharmingold-worldname.”
“There’snothingcharmingorold-worldaboutMrs.Grace.She’sgood-lookinginatoughsortofway.She’sgotthroughacoupleofhusbands,andnowshe’sgotaboyfriendwhomshesuspectsoftryingtorunoutonher.Theystartedthispartyondrinkandtheyfinisheditondope—cocaine,tobeexact.Cocaineisstuffthatstartsoffmakingyoufeeljustgrandandwitheverythinginthegardenlovely.Itpepsyouupandyoufeelyoucandotwiceasmuchasyouusuallydo.Taketoomuchofitandyougetviolentmentalexcitement,delusionsanddelirium.Mrs.Gracehadaviolentquarrelwithherboyfriend,anunpleasantpersonbythenameofHawker.Result,hewalkedoutonherthenandthere,andsheleanedoutofthewindowandtookapotshotathimwithabrand-newrevolverthatsomeonehadbeenfoolenoughtogiveher.”
HerculePoirot’seyebrowsrose.
“Didshehithim?”
“Notshe!Bulletwentseveralyardswide,Ishouldsay.WhatshedidhitwasamiserableloaferwhowascreepingalongtheMewslookinginthedustbins.Gothimthroughthefleshypartofthearm.HeraisedHell,ofcourse,andthecrowdhustledhiminherequick,gotthewindupwithallthebloodthatwasspillingoutofhimandcameroundandgotme.”
“Yes?”
“Ipatchedhimupallright.Itwasn’tserious.Thenoneortwoofthemengotbusyonhimandintheendheconsentedtoacceptacoupleoffivepoundnotesandsaynomoreaboutit.Suitedhimallright,poordevil.Marvellousstrokeofluck.”
“Andyou?”
“Ihadabitmoreworktodo.Mrs.Graceherselfwasinravinghystericsbythattime.Igaveherashotofsomethingandpackedherofftobed.Therewasanothergirlwho’dmoreorlesspassedout—quiteyoungshewas,andIattendedtohertoo.Bythattimeeveryonewasslinkingoffasfastastheycouldleave.”
Hepaused.
“Andthen,”saidPoirot,“youhadtimetothinkoverthesituation.”
“Exactly,”saidStoddart.“Ifitwasanordinarydrunkenbinge,well,thatwouldbetheendofit.Butdope’sdifferent.”
“Youarequitesureofyourfacts?”
“Oh,absolutely.Nomistakingit.It’scocaineallright.Ifoundsomeinalacquerbox—theysnuffitup,youknow.Questionis,wheredoesitcomefrom?Irememberedthatyou’dbeentalkingtheotherdayaboutabig,newwaveofdrugtakingandtheincreaseofdrugaddicts.”
HerculePoirotnodded.Hesaid:
“Thepolicewillbeinterestedinthispartytonight.”
MichaelStoddartsaidunhappily:
“That’sjustit….”
Poirotlookedathimwithsuddenlyawakenedinterest.Hesaid:
“Butyou—youarenotveryanxiousthatthepoliceshouldbeinterested?”
MichaelStoddartmumbled:
“Innocentpeoplegetmixedupinthings…hardlinesonthem.”
“IsitMrs.PatienceGraceforwhomyouaresosolicitous?”
“GoodLord,no.She’sashard-boiledastheymakethem!”
HerculePoirotsaidgently:
“Itis,then,theotherone—thegirl?”
Dr.Stoddartsaid:
“Ofcourse,she’shard-boiled,too,inaway.Imean,she’ddescribeherselfashard-boiled.Butshe’sreallyjustveryyoung—abitwildandallthat—butit’sjustkidfoolishness.Shegetsmixedupinaracketlikethisbecauseshethinksit’ssmartormodernorsomethinglikethat.”
AfaintsmilecametoPoirot’slips.Hesaidsoftly:
“Thisgirl,youhavemetherbeforetonight?”
MichaelStoddartnodded.Helookedveryyoungandembarrassed.
“RanacrossherinMertonshire.AttheHuntBall.Herfather’saretiredGeneral—bloodandthunder,shoot’emdown—pukkaSahib—allthatsortofthing.Therearefourdaughtersandtheyareallabitwild—driventoitwithafatherlikethat,Ishouldsay.Andit’sabadpartofthecountywheretheylive—armamentsworksnearbyandalotofmoney—noneoftheold-fashionedcountryfeeling—arichcrowdandmostofthemprettyvicious.Thegirlshavegotinwithabadset.”
HerculePoirotlookedathimthoughtfullyforsomeminutes.Thenhesaid:
“Iperceivenowwhyyoudesiredmypresence.Youwantmetotaketheaffairinhand?”
“Wouldyou?IfeelIoughttodosomethingaboutit—butIconfessI’dliketokeepSheilaGrantoutofthelimelightifIcould.”
“Thatcanbemanaged,Ifancy.Ishouldliketoseetheyounglady.”
“Comealong.”
Heledthewayoutoftheroom.Avoicecalledfretfullyfromadooropposite.
“Doctor—forGod’ssake,doctor,I’mgoingcrazy.”
Stoddartwentintotheroom.Poirotfollowed.Itwasabedroominacompletestateofchaos—powderspilledonthefloor—potsandjarseverywhere,clothesflungabout.Onthebedwasawomanwithunnaturallyblondehairandavacant,viciousface.Shecalledout:
“I’vegotinsectscrawlingalloverme…Ihave.IswearIhave.I’mgoingmad…ForGod’ssake,givemeashotofsomething.”
Dr.Stoddartstoodbythebed,histonewassoothing—professional.
HerculePoirotwentquietlyoutoftheroom.Therewasanotherdooroppositehim.Heopenedthat.
Itwasatinyroom—amereslipofaroom—plainlyfurnished.Onthebedaslim,girlishfigurelaymotionless.
HerculePoirottiptoedtothesideofthebedandlookeddownuponthegirl.
Darkhair,along,paleface—and—yes,young—veryyoung….
Agleamofwhiteshowedbetweenthegirl’slids.Hereyesopened,startled,frightenedeyes.Shestared,satup,tossingherheadinanefforttothrowbackthethickmaneofblue-blackhair.Shelookedlikeafrightenedfilly—sheshrankawayalittle—asawildanimalshrinkswhenitissuspiciousofastrangerwhooffersitfood.
Shesaid—andhervoicewasyoungandthinandabrupt:
“Whothehellareyou?”
“Donotbeafraid,Mademoiselle.”
“Where’sDr.Stoddart?”
Thatyoungmancameintotheroomatthatminute.Thegirlsaidwithanoteofreliefinhervoice:
“Oh!thereyouare!Who’sthis?”
“Thisisafriendofmine,Sheila.Howareyoufeelingnow?”
Thegirlsaid:
“Awful.Lousy…WhydidItakethatfoulstuff?”
Stoddartsaiddrily:
“Ishouldn’tdoitagain,ifIwereyou.”
“I—Ishan’t.”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Whogaveittoyou?”
Hereyeswidened,herupperliptwitchedalittle.Shesaid:
“Itwashere—attheparty.Wealltriedit.It—itwaswonderfulatfirst.”
HerculePoirotsaidgently:
“Butwhobroughtithere?”
Sheshookherhead.
“Idon’tknow…ItmighthavebeenTony—TonyHawker.ButIdon’treallyknowanythingaboutit.”
Poirotsaidgently:
“Isitthefirsttimeyouhavetakencocaine,Mademoiselle?”
Shenodded.
“You’dbettermakeitthelast,”saidStoddartbrusquely.
“Yes—Isupposeso—butitwasrathermarvellous.”
“Nowlookhere,SheilaGrant,”saidStoddart.“I’madoctorandIknowwhatI’mtalkingabout.Oncestartthisdrug-takingracketandyou’lllandyourselfinunbelievablemisery.I’veseensomeandIknow.Drugsruinpeople,bodyandsoul.Drink’sagentlelittlepicniccomparedtodrugs.Cutitrightoutfromthisminute.Believeme,itisn’tfunny!Whatdoyouthinkyourfatherwouldsaytotonight’sbusiness?”
“Father?”SheilaGrant’svoicerose.“Father?”Shebegantolaugh.“IcanjustseeFather’sface!Hemustn’tknowaboutit.He’dhavesevenfits!”
“Andquiterighttoo,”saidStoddart.
“Doctor—doctor—”thelongwailofMrs.Grace’svoicecamefromtheotherroom.
Stoddartmutteredsomethinguncomplimentaryunderhisbreathandwentoutoftheroom.
SheilaGrantstaredatPoirotagain.Shewaspuzzled.Shesaid:
“Whoareyoureally?Youweren’tattheparty.”
“No,Iwasnotattheparty.IamafriendofDr.Stoddart’s.”
“You’readoctor,too?Youdon’tlooklikeadoctor.”
“Myname,”saidPoirot,contrivingasusualtomakethesimplestatementsoundlikethecurtainofthefirstactofaplay,“mynameisHerculePoirot….”
Thestatementdidnotfailofitseffect.OccasionallyPoirotwasdistressedtofindthatacallousyoungergenerationhadneverheardofhim.
ButitwasevidentthatSheilaGranthadheardofhim.Shewasflabbergasted—dumbfounded.Shestaredandstared..
III
Ithasbeensaid,withorwithoutjustificationforthestatement,thateveryonehasanauntinTorquay.
IthasalsobeensaidthateveryonehasatleastasecondcousininMertonshire.MertonshireisareasonabledistancefromLondon,ithashunting,shootingandfishing,ithasseveralverypicturesquebutslightlyself-consciousvillages,ithasagoodsystemofrailwaysandanewarterialroadfacilitatesmotoringtoandfromthemetropolis.Servantsobjecttoitlessthantheydotoother,morerural,portionsoftheBritishIsles.Asaresult,itispracticallyimpossibletoliveinMertonshireunlessyouhaveanincomethatrunsintofourfigures,andwhatwithincometaxandonethingandanother,fivefiguresisbetter.
HerculePoirot,beingaforeigner,hadnosecondcousinsinthecountry,buthehadacquiredbynowalargecircleoffriendsandhehadnodifficultyingettinghimselfinvitedforavisitinthatpartoftheworld.Hehad,moreover,selectedashostessadearladywhosechiefdelightwasexercisinghertongueonthesubjectofherneighbours—theonlydrawbackbeingthatPoirothadtosubmittohearingagreatdealaboutpeopleinwhomhehadnointerestwhatever,beforecomingtothesubjectofthepeoplehewasinterestedin.
“TheGrants?Ohyes,therearefourofthem.Fourgirls.Idon’twonderthepoorGeneralcan’tcontrolthem.Whatcanamandowithfourgirls?”LadyCarmichael’shandsflewupeloquently.Poirotsaid:“Whatindeed?”andtheladycontinued:
“Usedtobeagreatdisciplinarianinhisregiment,sohetoldme.Butthosegirlsdefeathim.NotlikewhenIwasyoung.OldColonelSandyswassuchamartinet,Iremember,thathispoordaughters—”
(LongexcursionintothetrialsoftheSandysgirlsandotherfriendsofLadyCarmichael’syouth.)
“Mindyou,”saidLadyCarmichael,revertingtoherfirsttheme.“Idon’tsaythere’sanythingreallywrongaboutthosegirls.Justhighspirits—andgettinginwithanundesirableset.It’snotwhatitusedtobedownhere.Theoddestpeoplecomehere.There’snowhatyoumightcall‘county’left.It’sallmoney,money,moneynowadays.Andyoudoheartheoddeststories!Whodidyousay?AnthonyHawker?Ohyes,Iknowhim.WhatIcallaveryunpleasantyoungman.Butapparentlyrollinginmoney.Hecomesdownheretohunt—andhegivesparties—verylavishparties—andratherpeculiarparties,too,ifoneistobelievealloneistold—notthatIeverdo,becauseIdothinkpeoplearesoill-natured.Theyalwaysbelievetheworst.Youknow,it’sbecomequiteafashiontosayapersondrinksortakesdrugs.Somebodysaidtometheotherdaythatyounggirlswerenaturalinebriates,andIreallydon’tthinkthatwasanicethingtosayatall.Andifanyone’satallpeculiarorvagueintheirmanner,everyonesays‘drugs’andthat’sunfair,too.TheysayitaboutMrs.LarkinandthoughIdon’tcareforthewoman,Idoreallythinkit’snothingmorethanabsentmindedness.She’sagreatfriendofyourAnthonyHawker,andthat’swhy,ifyouaskme,she’ssodownontheGrantgirls—saysthey’reman-eaters!Idaresaytheydorunaftermenabit,butwhynot?It’snatural,afterall.Andthey’regood-lookingpieces,everyoneofthem.”
Poirotinterjectedaquestion.
“Mrs.Larkin?Mydearman,it’snogoodaskingmewhosheis?Who’sanybodynowadays?Theysaysherideswellandshe’sobviouslywelloff.Husbandwassomethinginthecity.He’sdead,notdivorced.She’snotbeenhereverylong,cameherejustaftertheGrantsdid.I’vealwaysthoughtshe—”
OldLadyCarmichaelstopped.Hermouthopened,hereyesbulged.LeaningforwardshestruckPoirotasharpblowacrosstheknuckleswithapapercuttershewasholding.Disregardinghiswinceofpainsheexclaimedexcitedly:
“Whyofcourse!Sothat’swhyyou’redownhere!Younasty,deceitfulcreature,Iinsistonyourtellingmeallaboutit.”
“ButwhatisitIamtotellyouallabout?”
LadyCarmichaelaimedanotherplayfulblowwhichPoirotavoideddeftly.
“Don’tbeanoyster,HerculePoirot!Icanseeyourmoustachesquivering.Ofcourse,it’scrimebringsyoudownhere—andyou’rejustpumpingmeshamelessly!Nowletmesee,canitbemurder?Who’sdiedlately?OnlyoldLouisaGilmoreandshewaseighty-fiveandhaddropsytoo.Can’tbeher.PoorLeoStavertonbrokehisneckinthehuntingfieldandhe’salldoneupinplaster—thatcan’tbeit.Perhapsitisn’tmurder.Whatapity!Ican’trememberanyspecialjewelrobberieslately…Perhapsit’sjustacriminalyou’retrackingdown…IsitBerylLarkin?Didshepoisonherhusband?Perhapsit’sremorsethatmakeshersovague.”
“Madame,Madame,”criedHerculePoirot.“Yougotoofast.”
“Nonsense.You’reuptosomething,HerculePoirot.”
“Areyouacquaintedwiththeclassics,Madame?”
“Whathavetheclassicsgottodowithit?”
“Theyhavethistodowithit.IemulatemygreatpredecessorHercules.OneoftheLaborsofHerculeswasthetamingofthewildhorsesofDiomedes.”
“Don’ttellmeyoucamedownheretotrainhorses—atyourage—andalwayswearingpatent-leathershoes!Youdon’tlooktomeasthoughyou’deverbeenonahorseinyourlife!”
“Thehorses,Madame,aresymbolic.Theywerethewildhorseswhoatehumanflesh.”
“Howveryunpleasantofthem.IalwaysdothinktheseancientGreeksandRomansareveryunpleasant.Ican’tthinkwhyclergymenaresofondofquotingfromtheclassics—foronethingoneneverunderstandswhattheymeananditalwaysseemstomethatthewholesubjectmatteroftheclassicsisveryunsuitableforclergymen.Somuchincest,andallthosestatueswithnothingon—notthatImindthatmyselfbutyouknowwhatclergymenare—quiteupsetifgirlscometochurchwithnostockingson—letmesee,wherewasI?”
“Iamnotquitesure.”
“Isuppose,youwretch,youjustwon’ttellmeifMrs.Larkinmurderedherhusband?OrperhapsAnthonyHawkeristheBrightontrunkmurderer?”
Shelookedathimhopefully,butHerculePoirot’sfaceremainedimpassive.
“Itmightbeforgery,”speculatedLadyCarmichael.“IdidseeMrs.Larkininthebanktheothermorningandshe’djustcashedafiftypoundchequetoself—itseemedtomeatthetimealotofmoneytowantincash.Ohno,that’sthewrongwayround—ifshewasaforgershewouldbepayingitin,wouldn’tshe?HerculePoirot,ifyousittherelookinglikeanowlandsayingnothing,Ishallthrowsomethingatyou.”
“Youmusthavealittlepatience,”saidHerculePoirot.
IV
AshleyLodge,theresidenceofGeneralGrant,wasnotalargehouse.Itwassituatedonthesideofahill,hadgoodstables,andastraggling,ratherneglectedgarden.
Inside,itwaswhatahouseagentwouldhavedescribedas“fullyfurnished.”Cross-leggedBuddhasleereddownfromconvenientniches,brassBenarestraysandtablesencumberedthefloorspace.Processionalelephantsgarnishedthemantelpiecesandmoretorturedbrassworkadornedthewalls.
InthemidstofthisAnglo-Indianhomefromhome,GeneralGrantwasensconcedinalarge,shabbyarmchairwithhisleg,swathedinbandages,reposingonanotherchair.
“Gout,”heexplained.“Everhadthegout,Mr.—er—Poirot?Makesafellerdamnedbadtempered!Allmyfather’sfault.Drankportallhislife—sodidmygrandfather.It’splayedthedeucewithme.Haveadrink?Ringthatbell,willyou,forthatfellerofmine?”
Aturbanedservantappeared.GeneralGrantaddressedhimasAbdulandorderedhimtobringthewhiskyandsoda.WhenitcamehepouredoutsuchagenerousportionthatPoirotwasmovedtoprotest
“Can’tjoinyou,I’mafraid,Mr.Poirot.”TheGeneraleyedthetantalussadly.“Mydoctorwallahsaysit’spoisontometotouchthestuff.Don’tsupposeheknowsforaminute.Ignorantchapsdoctors.Spoilsports.Enjoyknockingamanoffhisfoodanddrinkandputtinghimonsomepaplikesteamedfish.Steamedfish—pah!”
InhisindignationtheGeneralincautiouslymovedhisbadfootandutteredayelpofagonyatthetwingethatensued.
Heapologizedforhislanguage.
“Likeabearwithasorehead,that’swhatIam.MygirlsgivemeawideberthwhenI’vegotanattackofgout.Don’tknowthatIblamethem.You’vemetoneof’em,Ihear.”
“Ihavehadthatpleasure,yes.Youhaveseveraldaughters,haveyounot?”
“Four,”saidtheGeneralgloomily.“Notaboyamongst’em.Fourblinkinggirls.Bitofathought,thesedays.”
“Theyareallfourverycharming,Ihear?”
“Nottoobad—nottoobad.Mindyou,Ineverknowwhatthey’reupto.Youcan’tcontrolgirlsnowadays.Laxtimes—toomuchlaxityeverywhere.Whatcanamando?Can’tlock’emup,canI?”
“Theyarepopularintheneighbourhood,Igather.”
“Someoftheoldcatsdon’tlike’em,”saidGeneralGrant.“Agooddealofmuttondressedaslambroundhere.Aman’sgottobecareful.Oneoftheseblue-eyedwidowsnearlycaughtme—usedtocomeroundherepurringlikeakitten.‘PoorGeneralGrant—youmusthavehadsuchaninterestinglife.’”TheGeneralwinkedandplacedonefingeragainsthisnose.“Alittlebittooobvious,Mr.Poirot.Ohwell,takeitallround,Isupposeit’snotabadpartoftheworld.Abitgoaheadandnoisyformytaste.Ilikedthecountrywhenitwasthecountry—notallthismotoringandjazzandthatblasted,eternalradio.Iwon’thaveonehereandthegirlsknowit.Aman’sgotarighttoalittlepeaceinhisownhome.”
GentlyPoirotledtheconversationroundtoAnthonyHawker.
“Hawker?Hawker?Don’tknowhim.Yes,Ido,though.Nastylookingfellowwithhiseyestooclosetogether.Nevertrustamanwhocan’tlookyouintheface.”
“Heisafriend,ishenot,ofyourdaughterSheila’s?”
“Sheila?Wasn’tawareofit.Girlsnevertellmeanything.”Thebushyeyebrowscamedownoverthenose—thepiercing,blueeyeslookedoutoftheredfacestraightintoHerculePoirot’s.“Lookhere,Mr.Poirot,what’sallthisabout?Mindtellingmewhatyou’vecometoseemeabout?”
Poirotsaidslowly:
“Thatwouldbedifficult—perhapsIhardlyknowmyself.Iwouldsayonlythis:yourdaughterSheila—perhapsallyourdaughters—havemadesomeundesirablefriends.”
“Gotintoabadset,havethey?Iwasabitafraidofthat.Onehearsaworddroppedhereandthere.”HelookedpatheticallyatPoirot.“ButwhatamItodo,Mr.Poirot?WhatamItodo?”
Poirotshookhisheadperplexedly.
GeneralGrantwenton:
“What’swrongwiththebunchthey’rerunningwith?”
Poirotrepliedbyanotherquestion.
“Haveyounoticed,GeneralGrant,thatanyofyourdaughtershavebeenmoody,excited,thendepressed—nervy—uncertainintheirtempers?”
“Damme,sir,you’retalkinglikeapatentmedicine.No,Ihaven’tnoticedanythingofthekind.”
“Thatisfortunate,”saidPoirotgravely.
“Whatthedevilisthemeaningofallthis,sir?”
“Drugs!”
“WHAT!”
Thewordcameinaroar.
Poirotsaid:
“AnattemptisbeingmadetoinduceyourdaughterSheilatobecomeadrugaddict.Thecocainehabitisveryquicklyformed.Aweekortwowillsuffice.Oncethehabitisformed,anaddictwillpayanything,doanything,togetafurthersupplyofthedrug.Youcanrealizewhatarichhaulthepersonwhopeddlesthatdrugcanmake.”
Helistenedinsilencetothespluttering,wrathfulblasphemiesthatpouredfromtheoldman’slips.Then,asthefiresdieddown,withafinalchoicedescriptionofexactlywhathe,theGeneral,woulddototheblinketyblinketysonofablankwhenhegotholdofhim,HerculePoirotsaid:
“Wehavefirst,asyoursoadmirableMrs.Beetonsays,tocatchthehare.Oncewehavecaughtourdrugpedlar,Iwillturnhimovertoyouwiththegreatestpleasure,General.”
Hegotup,trippedoveraheavilycarved,smalltable,regainedhisbalancewithaclutchattheGeneral,murmured:
“Athousandpardons,andmayIbegofyou,General—youunderstand,begofyou—tosaynothingwhateveraboutallthistoyourdaughters.”
“What?I’llhavethetruthoutofthem,that’swhatI’llhave!”
“Thatisexactlywhatyouwillnothave.Allyouwillgetisalie.”
“Butdamme,sir—”
“Iassureyou,GeneralGrant,youmustholdyourtongue.Thatisvital—youunderstand?Vital!”
“Ohwell,haveityourownway,”growledtheoldsoldier.
Hewasmasteredbutnotconvinced.
HerculePoirotpickedhiswaycarefullythroughtheBenaresbrassandwentout
V
Mrs.Larkin’sroomwasfullofpeople
Mrs.Larkinherselfwasmixingcocktailsatasidetable.Shewasatallwomanwithpaleauburnhairrolledintothebackofherneck.Hereyesweregreenish-greywithbig,blackpupils.Shemovedeasily,withakindofsinistergrace.Shelookedasthoughshewereintheearlythirties.Onlyaclosescrutinyrevealedthelinesatthecornersoftheeyesandhintedthatshewastenyearsolderthanherlooks.
HerculePoirothadbeenbroughtherebyabrisk,middle-agedwoman,afriendofLadyCarmichael’s.Hefoundhimselfgivenacocktailandfurtherdirectedtotakeonetoagirlsittinginthewindow.Thegirlwassmallandfair—herfacewaspinkandwhiteandsuspiciouslyangelic.Hereyes,HerculePoirotnoticedatonce,werealertandsuspicious.
Hesaid:
“Toyourcontinuedgoodhealth,Mademoiselle.”
Shenoddedanddrank.Thenshesaidabruptly:
“Youknowmysister.”
“Yoursister?Ah,youarethenoneoftheMissGrants?”
“I’mPamGrant.”
“Andwhereisyoursistertoday?”
“She’southunting.Oughttobebacksoon.”
“ImetyoursisterinLondon.”
“Iknow.”
“Shetoldyou?”
PamGrantnodded.Shesaidabruptly:
“WasSheilainajam?”
“Soshedidnottellyoueverything?”
Thegirlshookherhead.Sheasked:
“WasTonyHawkerthere?”
BeforePoirotcouldanswer,thedooropenedandHawkerandSheilaGrantcamein.TheywereinhuntingkitandSheilahadastreakofmudonhercheek.
“Hullo,people,we’vecomeinforadrink.Tony’sflaskisdry.”
Poirotmurmured:
“Talkoftheangels—”
PamGrantsnapped:
“Devils,youmean.”
Poirotsaidsharply:
“Isitlikethat?”
BerylLarkinhadcomeforward.Shesaid:
“Hereyouare,Tony.Tellmeabouttherun?DidyoudrawGelert’sCopse?”
Shedrewhimawayskilfullytoasofanearthefireplace.PoirotsawhimturnhisheadandglanceatSheilabeforehewent.
SheilahadseenPoirot.Shehesitatedaminute,thencameovertothetwointhewindow.Shesaidabruptly:
“Soitwasyouwhocametothehouseyesterday?”
“Didyourfathertellyou?”
Sheshookherhead.
“Abduldescribedyou.I—guessed.”
Pamexclaimed:“YouwenttoseeFather?”
Poirotsaid:
“Ah—yes.Wehave—somemutualfriends.”
Pamsaidsharply:
“Idon’tbelieveit.”
“Whatdoyounotbelieve?ThatyourfatherandIcouldhaveamutualfriend?”
Thegirlflushed.
“Don’tbestupid.Imeant—thatwasn’treallyyourreason—”
Sheturnedonhersister.
“Whydon’tyousaysomething,Sheila?”
Sheilastarted.Shesaid:
“Itwasn’t—itwasn’tanythingtodowithTonyHawker?”
“Whyshoulditbe?”askedPoirot.
Sheilaflushedandwentbackacrosstheroomtotheothers.
Pamsaidwithsuddenvehemencebutinaloweredvoice:
“Idon’tlikeTonyHawker.There—there’ssomethingsinisterabouthim—andabouther—Mrs.Larkin,Imean.Lookatthemnow.”
Poirotfollowedherglance.
Hawker’sheadwasclosetothatofhishostess.Heappearedtobesoothingher.Hervoiceroseforaminute.
“—butIcan’twait.Iwantitnow!”
Poirotsaidwithalittlesmile:
“Lesfemmes—whateveritis—theyalwayswantitnow,dotheynot?”
ButPamGrantdidnotrespond.Herfacewascastdown.Shewasnervouslypleatingandrepleatinghertweedskirt.
Poirotmurmuredconversationally:
“Youarequiteadifferenttypefromyoursister,Mademoiselle.”
Sheflungherheadup,impatientofbanalities.Shesaid:
“M.Poirot.What’sthestuffTony’sbeengivingSheila?Whatisitthat’sbeenmakingher—different?”
Helookedstraightather.Heasked:
“Haveyouevertakencocaine,MissGrant?”
Sheshookherhead.
“Ohno!Sothat’sit?Cocaine?Butisn’tthatverydangerous?”
SheilaGranthadcomeovertothem,afreshdrinkinherhand.Shesaid:
“What’sdangerous?”
Poirotsaid:
“Wearetalkingoftheeffectsofdrugtaking.Oftheslowdeathofthemindandspirit—thedestroyingofallthatistrueandgoodinahumanbeing.”
SheilaGrantcaughtherbreath.Thedrinkinherhandswayedandspilledonthefloor.Poirotwenton:
“Dr.Stoddarthas,Ithink,madecleartoyoujustwhatthatdeathinlifeentails.Itissoeasilydone—sohardtoundo.Thepersonwhodeliberatelyprofitsfromthedegradationandmiseryofotherpeopleisavampirepreyingonfleshandblood.”
Heturnedaway.BehindhimheheardPamGrant’svoicesay:“Sheila!”andcaughtawhisper—afaintwhisper—fromSheilaGrant.Itwassolowhehardlyheardit.
“Theflask.”
HerculePoirotsaidgoodbyetoMrs.Larkinandwentoutintothehall.Onthehalltablewasahuntingflasklyingwithacropandahat.Poirotpickeditup.Therewereinitialsonit:A.H.
Poirotmurmuredtohimself:
“Tony’sflaskisempty?”
Heshookitgently.Therewasnosoundofliquor.Heunscrewedthetop.
TonyHawker’sflaskwasnotempty.Itwasfull—ofwhitepowder….
VI
HerculePoirotstoodontheterraceofLadyCarmichael’shouseandpleadedwithagirl.
Hesaid:
“Youareveryyoung,Mademoiselle.Itismybeliefthatyouhavenotknown,notreallyknown,whatitisyouandyoursistershavebeendoing.Youhavebeenfeeding,likethemaresofDiomedes,onhumanflesh.”
Sheilashudderedandgaveasob.Shesaid:
“Itsoundshorrible,putlikethat.Andyetit’strue!IneverrealizedituntilthateveninginLondonwhenDr.Stoddarttalkedtome.Hewassograve—sosincere.IsawthenwhatanawfulthingitwasIhadbeendoing…BeforethatIthoughtitwas—Oh!ratherlikedrinkafterhours—somethingpeoplewouldpaytoget,butnotsomethingthatreallymatteredverymuch!”
Poirotsaid:
“Andnow?”
SheilaGrantsaid:
“I’lldoanythingyousay.I—I’lltalktotheothers,”sheadded…“Idon’tsupposeDr.Stoddartwilleverspeaktomeagain….”
“Onthecontrary,”saidPoirot.“BothDr.StoddartandIarepreparedtohelpyouineverywayinourpowertostartafresh.Youcantrustus.Butonethingmustbedone.Thereisonepersonwhomustbedestroyed—destroyedutterly,andonlyyouandyoursisterscandestroyhim.Itisyourevidenceandyourevidencealonethatwillconvicthim.”
“Youmean—myfather?”
“Notyourfather,Mademoiselle.DidInottellyouthatHerculePoirotknowseverything?Yourphotographwaseasilyrecognizedinofficialquarters.YouareSheilaKelly—apersistentyoungshoplifterwhowassenttoareformatorysomeyearsago.Whenyoucameoutofthatreformatory,youwereapproachedbythemanwhocallshimselfGeneralGrantandofferedthispost—thepostofa‘daughter.’Therewouldbeplentyofmoney,plentyoffun,agoodtime.Allyouhadtodowastointroducethe‘snuff’toyourfriends,alwayspretendingthatsomeoneelsehadgivenittoyou.Your‘sisters’wereinthesamecaseasyourself.”
Hepausedandsaid:
“Comenow,Mademoiselle—thismanmustbeexposedandsentenced.Afterthat—”
“Yes,afterwards?”
Poirotcoughed.Hesaidwithasmile:
“YoushallbededicatedtotheserviceoftheGods….”
VII
MichaelStoddartstaredatPoirotinamazement.Hesaid:
“GeneralGrant?GeneralGrant?”
“Precisely,moncher.Thewholemiseenscène,youknow,waswhatyouwouldcall‘verybogus.’TheBuddhas,theBenaresbrass,theIndianservant!Andthegout,too!Itisoutofdate,thegout.Itisold,oldgentlemenwhohavethegout—notthefathersofyoungladiesofnineteen.
“MoreoverImadequitecertain.AsIgoout,Istumble,Iclutchatthegoutyfoot.SoperturbedisthegentlemanbywhatIhavebeensayingthathedidnotevennotice.Ohyes,heisvery,verybogus,thatGeneral!Toutdemême,itisasmartidea.TheretiredAnglo-IndianGeneral,thewell-knowncomicfigurewithaliverandacholerictemper,hesettlesdown—notamongstotherretiredAnglo-IndianArmyofficers—ohno,hegoestoamilieufartooexpensivefortheusualretiredArmyman.Therearerichpeoplethere,peoplefromLondon,anexcellentfieldtomarketthegoods.Andwhowouldsuspectfourlively,attractive,younggirls?Ifanythingcomesout,theywillbeconsideredasvictims—thatforacertainty!”
“Whatwasyourideaexactlywhenyouwenttoseetheolddevil?Didyouwanttoputthewinduphim?”
“Yes.Iwantedtoseewhatwouldhappen.Ihadnotlongtowait.Thegirlshadtheirorders.AnthonyHawker,actuallyoneoftheirvictims,wastobethescapegoat.Sheilawastotellmeabouttheflaskinthehall.Shenearlycouldnotbringherselftodoso—buttheothergirlrappedoutanangry‘Sheila’atherandshejustfaltereditout.”
MichaelStoddartgotupandpacedupanddown.Hesaid:
“Youknow,I’mnotgoingtolosesightofthatgirl.I’vegotaprettysoundtheoryaboutthoseadolescentcriminaltendencies.Ifyoulookintothehomelife,younearlyalwaysfind—”
Poirotinterruptedhim.
Hesaid:
“Moncher,Ihavethedeepestrespectforyourscience.IhavenodoubtthatyourtheorieswillworkadmirablywhereMissSheilaKellyisconcerned.”
“Theothers,too.”
“Theothers,perhaps.Itmaybe.TheonlyoneIamsureaboutisthelittleSheila.Youwilltameher,notadoubtofit!Intruth,sheeatsoutofyourhandalready….”
Flushing,MichaelStoddartsaid:
“Whatnonsenseyoutalk,Poirot.”
Nine
THEGIRDLEOFHYPPOLITA
Onethingleadstoanother,asHerculePoirotisfondofsayingwithoutmuchoriginality.
HeaddsthatthiswasnevermoreclearlyevidencedthaninthecaseofthestolenRubens.
HewasnevermuchinterestedintheRubens.ForonethingRubensisnotapainterheadmires,andthenthecircumstancesofthetheftwerequiteordinary.HetookituptoobligeAlexanderSimpsonwhowasbywayofbeingafriendofhisandforacertainprivatereasonofhisownnotunconnectedwiththeclassics!
Afterthetheft,AlexanderSimpsonsentforPoirotandpouredoutallhiswoes.TheRubenswasarecentdiscovery,ahithertounknownmasterpiece,buttherewasnodoubtofitsauthenticity.IthadbeenplacedondisplayatSimpson’sGalleriesandithadbeenstoleninbroaddaylight.ItwasatthetimewhentheunemployedwerepursuingtheirtacticsoflyingdownonstreetcrossingsandpenetratingintotheRitz.AsmallbodyofthemhadenteredSimpson’sGalleriesandlaindownwiththeslogandisplayedof“ArtisaLuxury.FeedtheHungry.”Thepolicehadbeensentfor,everyonehadcrowdedroundineagercuriosity,anditwasnottillthedemonstratorshadbeenforciblyremovedbythearmofthelawthatitwasnoticedthatthenewRubenshadbeenneatlycutoutofitsframeandremovedalso!
“Itwasquiteasmallpicture,yousee,”explainedMr.Simpson.“Amancouldputitunderhisarmandwalkoutwhileeveryonewaslookingatthosemiserableidiotsofunemployed.”
Themeninquestion,itwasdiscovered,hadbeenpaidfortheirinnocentpartintherobbery.TheyweretodemonstrateatSimpson’sGalleries.Buttheyhadknownnothingofthereasonuntilafterwards.
HerculePoirotthoughtthatitwasanamusingtrickbutdidnotseewhathecoulddoaboutit.Thepolice,hepointedout,couldbetrustedtodealwithastraightforwardrobbery.
AlexanderSimpsonsaid:
“Listentome,Poirot.Iknowwhostolethepictureandwhereitisgoing.”
AccordingtotheownerofSimpson’sGalleriesithadbeenstolenbyagangofinternationalcrooksonbehalfofacertainmillionairewhowasnotaboveacquiringworksofartatasurprisinglylowprice—andnoquestionsasked!TheRubens,saidSimpson,wouldbesmuggledovertoFrancewhereitwouldpassintothemillionaire’spossession.TheEnglishandFrenchpolicewereonthealert,neverthelessSimpsonwasoftheopinionthattheywouldfail.“Andonceithaspassedintothisdirtydog’spossession,it’sgoingtobemoredifficult.Richmenhavetobetreatedwithrespect.That’swhereyoucomein.Thesituation’sgoingtobedelicate.You’rethemanforthat.”
Finally,withoutenthusiasm,HerculePoirotwasinducedtoacceptthetask.HeagreedtodepartforFranceimmediately.Hewasnotveryinterestedinhisquest,butbecauseofit,hewasintroducedtothecaseoftheMissingSchoolgirlwhichinterestedhimverymuchindeed
HefirstheardofitfromChiefInspectorJappwhodroppedintoseehimjustasPoirotwasexpressingapprovalofhisvalet’spacking.
“Ha,”saidJapp.“GoingtoFrance,aren’tyou?”
Poirotsaid:
“Moncher,youareincrediblywellinformedatScotlandYard.”
Jappchuckled.Hesaid:
“Wehaveourspies!Simpson’sgotyouontothisRubensbusiness.Doesn’ttrustus,itseems!Well,that’sneitherherenorthere,butwhatIwantyoutodoissomethingquitedifferent.Asyou’regoingtoParisanyway,Ithoughtyoumightaswellkilltwobirdswithonestone.DetectiveInspectorHearn’sovertherecooperatingwiththeFrenchies—youknowHearn?Goodchap—butperhapsnotveryimaginative.I’dlikeyouropiniononthebusiness.”
“Whatisthismatterofwhichyouspeak?”
“Child’sdisappeared.It’llbeinthepapersthisevening.Looksasthoughshe’sbeenkidnapped.DaughterofaCanondownatCranchester.King,hernameis,WinnieKing.”
Heproceededwiththestory.
WinniehadbeenonherwaytoParis,tojointhatselectandhigh-classestablishmentforEnglishandAmericangirls—MissPope’s.WinniehadcomeupfromCranchesterbytheearlytrain—hadbeenseenacrossLondonbyamemberofElderSistersLtdwhoundertooksuchworkasseeinggirlsfromonestationtoanother,hadbeendeliveredatVictoriatoMissBurshaw,MissPope’ssecond-in-command,andhadthen,incompanywitheighteenothergirls,leftVictoriabytheboattrain.Nineteengirlshadcrossedthechannel,hadpassedthroughthecustomsatCalais,hadgotintotheParistrain,hadlunchedintherestaurantcar.Butwhen,ontheoutskirtsofParis,MissBurshawhadcountedheads,itwasdiscoveredthatonlyeighteengirlscouldbefound!
“Aha,”Poirotnodded.“Didthetrainstopanywhere?”
“ItstoppedatAmiens,butatthattimethegirlswereintherestaurantcarandtheyallsaypositivelythatWinniewaswiththemthen.Theylosther,sotospeak,onthereturnjourneytotheircompartments.Thatistosay,shedidnotenterherowncompartmentwiththeotherfivegirlswhowereinit.Theydidnotsuspectanythingwaswrong,merelythoughtshewasinoneofthetwootherreservedcarriages.”
Poirotnodded.
“Soshewaslastseen—whenexactly?”
“AbouttenminutesafterthetrainleftAmiens.”Jappcoughedmodestly.“Shewaslastseen—er—enteringtheToilette.”
Poirotmurmured:
“Verynatural.”Hewenton:“Thereisnothingelse?”
“Yes,onething.”Japp’sfacewasgrim.“Herhatwasfoundbythesideoftheline—ataspotapproximatelyfourteenmilesfromAmiens.”
“Butnobody?”
“Nobody.”
Poirotasked:
“Whatdoyouyourselfthink?”
“Difficulttoknowwhattothink!Asthere’snosignofherbody—shecan’thavefallenoffthetrain.”
“DidthetrainstopatallafterleavingAmiens?”
“No.Itsloweduponce—forasignal,butitdidn’tstop,andIdoubtifitslowedupenoughforanyonetohavejumpedoffwithoutinjury.You’rethinkingthatthekidgotapanicandtriedtorunaway?Itwasherfirsttermandshemighthavebeenhomesick,that’strueenough,butallthesameshewasfifteenandahalf—asensibleage,andshe’dbeeninquitegoodspiritsallthejourney,chatteringawayandallthat.”
Poirotasked:
“Wasthetrainsearched?”
“Ohyes,theywentrightthroughitbeforeitarrivedattheNordstation.Thegirlwasn’tonthetrain,that’squitecertain.”
Jappaddedinanexasperatedmanner:
“Shejustdisappeared—intothinair!Itdoesn’tmakesense,M.Poirot.It’scrazy!”
“Whatkindofagirlwasshe?”
“Ordinary,normaltypeasfarasIcanmakeout.”
“Imean—whatdidshelooklike?”
“I’vegotasnapofherhere.She’snotexactlyabuddingbeauty.”
HeprofferedthesnapshottoPoirotwhostudieditinsilence.
Itrepresentedalankygirlwithherhairintwolimpplaits.Itwasnotaposedphotograph,thesubjecthadclearlybeencaughtunawares.Shewasintheactofeatinganapple,herlipswereparted,showingslightlyprotrudingteethconfinedbyadentist’splate.Sheworespectacles.
Jappsaid:
“Plain-lookingkid—butthentheyareplainatthatage!Wasatmydentist’syesterday.SawapictureintheSketchofMarciaGaunt,thisseason’sbeauty.IrememberheratfifteenwhenIwasdownattheCastleovertheirburglarybusiness.Spotty,awkward,teethstickingout,hairalllankandanyhow.Theygrowintobeautiesovernight—Idon’tknowhowtheydoit!It’slikeamiracle.”
Poirotsmiled.
“Women,”hesaid,“areamiraculoussex!Whataboutthechild’sfamily?Havetheyanythinghelpfultosay?”
Jappshookhishead.
“Nothingthat’sanyhelp.Mother’saninvalid.PooroldCanonKingisabsolutelybowledover.HeswearsthatthegirlwasfrightfullykeentogotoParis—hadbeenlookingforwardtoit.Wantedtostudypaintingandmusic—thatsortofthing.MissPope’sgirlsgoinforArtwithacapitalA.Asyouprobablyknow,MissPope’sisaverywell-knownestablishment.Lotsofsocietygirlsgothere.She’sstrict—quiteadragon—andveryexpensive—andextremelyparticularwhomshetakes.”
Poirotsighed.
“Iknowthetype.AndMissBurshawwhotookthegirlsoverfromEngland?”
“Notexactlyfranticwithbrains.TerrifiedthatMissPopewillsayit’sherfault.”
Poirotsaidthoughtfully:
“Thereisnoyoungmaninthecase?”
Jappgesticulatedtowardsthesnapshot.
“Doesshelooklikeit?”
“No,shedoesnot.Butnotwithstandingherappearance,shemayhavearomanticheart.Fifteenisnotsoyoung.”
“Well,”saidJapp.“Ifaromanticheartspiritedheroffthattrain,I’lltaketoreadingladynovelists.”
HelookedhopefullyatPoirot.
“Nothingstrikesyou—eh?”
Poirotshookhisheadslowly.Hesaid:
“Theydidnot,byanychance,findhershoesalsobythesideoftheline?”
“Shoes?No.Whyshoes?”
Poirotmurmured:
“Justanidea….”
II
HerculePoirotwasjustgoingdowntohistaxiwhenthetelephonerang.Hetookoffthereceiver.
“Yes?”
Japp’svoicespoke.
“GladI’vejustcaughtyou.It’salloff,oldman.FoundamessageattheYardwhenIgotback.Thegirl’sturnedup.AtthesideofthemainroadfifteenmilesfromAmiens.She’sdazedandtheycan’tgetanycoherentstoryfromher,doctorsaysshe’sbeendoped—However,she’sallright.Nothingwrongwithher.”
Poirotsaidslowly:
“Soyouhave,then,noneedofmyservices?”
“Afraidnot!Infact—sorrrryyouhavebeentrrrroubled.”
Japplaughedathiswitticismandrangoff.
HerculePoirotdidnotlaugh.Heputbackthereceiverslowly.Hisfacewasworried.
III
DetectiveInspectorHearnlookedatPoirotcuriously.
Hesaid:
“I’dnoideayou’dbesointerested,sir.”
Poirotsaid:
“YouhadwordfromChiefInspectorJappthatImightconsultwithyouoverthismatter?”
Hearnnodded.
“Hesaidyouwerecomingoveronsomebusiness,andthatyou’dgiveusahandwiththispuzzle.ButIdidn’texpectyounowit’sallclearedup.Ithoughtyou’dbebusyonyourownjob.”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Myownbusinesscanwait.Itisthisaffairherethatinterestsme.Youcalleditapuzzle,andyousayitisnowended.Butthepuzzleisstillthere,itseems.”
“Well,sir,we’vegotthechildback.Andshe’snothurt.That’sthemainthing.”
“Butitdoesnotsolvetheproblemofhowyougotherback,doesit?Whatdoessheherselfsay?Adoctorsawher,didhenot?Whatdidhesay?”
“Saidshe’dbeendoped.Shewasstillhazywithit.Apparently,shecan’trememberanythingmuchafterstartingofffromCranchester.Alllatereventsseemtohavebeenwipedout.Doctorthinksshemightjustpossiblyhavehadslightconcussion.There’sabruiseonthebackofherhead.Saysthatwouldaccountforacompleteblackoutofmemory.”
Poirotsaid:
“Whichisveryconvenientfor—someone!”
InspectorHearnsaidinadoubtfulvoice:
“Youdon’tthinksheisshamming,sir?”
“Doyou?”
“No,I’msuresheisn’t.She’sanicekid—abityoungforherage.”
“No,sheisnotshamming.”Poirotshookhishead.“ButIwouldliketoknowhowshegotoffthattrain.Iwanttoknowwhoisresponsible—andwhy?”
“Astowhy,Ishouldsayitwasanattemptatkidnapping,sir.Theymeanttoholdhertoransom.”
“Buttheydidn’t!”
“Losttheirnervewiththehueandcry—andplantedherbytheroadquick.”
Poirotinquiredsceptically:
“AndwhatransomweretheylikelytogetfromaCanonofCranchesterCathedral?EnglishChurchdignitariesarenotmillionaires.”
DetectiveInspectorHearnsaidcheerfully:
“Madeabotchofthewholething,sir,inmyopinion.”
“Ah,that’syouropinion.”
Hearnsaid,hisfaceflushingslightly:
“What’syours,sir?”
“Iwanttoknowhowshewasspiritedoffthattrain.”
Thepoliceman’sfacecloudedover.
“That’sarealmystery,thatis.Oneminuteshewasthere,sittinginthediningcar,chattingtotheothergirls.Fiveminuteslatershe’svanished—heypresto—likeaconjuringtrick.”
“Precisely,likeaconjuringtrick!WhoelsewasthereinthecoachofthetrainwhereMissPope’sreservedcompartmentswere?”
InspectorHearnnodded.
“That’sagoodpoint,sir.That’simportant.It’sparticularlyimportantbecauseitwasthelastcoachonthetrainandassoonasallthepeoplewerebackfromtherestaurantcar,thedoorsbetweenthecoacheswerelocked—actuallysoastopreventpeoplecrowdingalongtotherestaurantcaranddemandingteabeforethey’dhadtimetoclearuplunchandgetready.WinnieKingcamebacktothecoachwiththeothers—theschoolhadthreereservedcompartmentsthere.”
“Andintheothercompartmentsofthecoach?”
Hearnpulledouthisnotebook.
“MissJordanandMissButters—twomiddle-agedspinstersgoingtoSwitzerland.Nothingwrongwiththem,highlyrespectable,wellknowninHampshirewheretheycomefrom.TwoFrenchcommercialtravellers,onefromLyons,onefromParis.Bothrespectablemiddle-agedmen.Ayoungman,JamesElliot,andhiswife—flashypieceofgoodsshewas.He’sgotabadreputation,suspectedbythepoliceofbeingmixedupinsomequestionabletransactions—buthasnevertouchedkidnapping.Anyway,hiscompartmentwassearchedandtherewasnothinginhishandluggagetoshowthathewasmixedupinthis.Don’tseehowhecouldhavebeen.OnlyotherpersonwasanAmericanlady,Mrs.VanSuyder,travellingtoParis.Nothingknownabouther.LooksO.K.That’sthelot.”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“AnditisquitedefinitethatthetraindidnotstopafteritleftAmiens?”
“Absolutely.Itsloweddownonce,butnotenoughtoletanyonejumpoff—notwithoutdamagingthemselvesprettyseverelyandriskingbeingkilled.”
HerculePoirotmurmured:
“Thatiswhatmakestheproblemsopeculiarlyinteresting.TheschoolgirlvanishesintothinairjustoutsideAmiens.ShereappearsfromthinairjustoutsideAmiens.Wherehasshebeeninthemeantime?”
InspectorHearnshookhishead.
“Itsoundsmad,putlikethat.Oh!bytheway,theytoldmeyouwereaskingsomethingaboutshoes—thegirl’sshoes.Shehadhershoesonallrightwhenshewasfound,buttherewasapairofshoesontheline,asignalmanfoundthem.Took’emhomewithhimastheyseemedingoodcondition.Stoutblackwalkingshoes.”
“Ah,”saidPoirot.Helookedgratified.
InspectorHearnsaidcuriously:
“Idon’tgetthemeaningoftheshoes,sir?Dotheymeananything?”
“Theyconfirmatheory,”saidHerculePoirot.“Atheoryofhowtheconjuringtrickwasdone.”
IV
MissPope’sestablishmentwas,likemanyotherestablishmentsofthesamekind,situatedinNeuilly.HerculePoirot,staringupatitsrespectablefa?ade,wassuddenlysubmergedbyaflowofgirlsemergingfromitsportals.
Hecountedtwenty-fiveofthem,alldressedalikeindarkbluecoatsandskirtswithuncomfortable-lookingBritishhatsofdarkbluevelourontheirheads,roundwhichwastiedthedistinctivepurpleandgoldofMissPope’schoice.Theywereofagesvaryingfromfourteentoeighteen,thickandslim,fairanddark,awkwardandgraceful.Attheend,walkingwithoneoftheyoungergirls,wasagrey-haired,fussylookingwomanwhomPoirotjudgedtobeMissBurshaw
Poirotstoodlookingafterthemaminute,thenherangthebellandaskedforMissPope.
MissLaviniaPopewasaverydifferentpersonfromhersecond-in-command,MissBurshaw.MissPopehadpersonality.MissPopewasaweinspiring.EvenshouldMissPopeunbendgraciouslytoparents,shewouldstillretainthatobvioussuperioritytotherestoftheworldwhichissuchapowerfulassettoaschoolmistress.
Hergreyhairwasdressedwithdistinction,hercostumewasseverebutchic.Shewascompetentandomniscient.
TheroominwhichshereceivedPoirotwastheroomofawomanofculture.Ithadgracefulfurniture,flowers,someframed,signedphotographsofthoseofMissPope’spupilswhowereofnoteintheworld—manyofthemintheirpresentationgownsandfeathers.Onthewallshungreproductionsoftheworld’sartisticmasterpiecesandsomegoodwatercoloursketches.Thewholeplacewascleanandpolishedtothelastdegree.Nospeckofdust,onefelt,wouldhavethetemeritytodeposititselfinsuchashrine.
MissPopereceivedPoirotwiththecompetenceofonewhosejudgementseldomfails.
“M.HerculePoirot?Iknowyourname,ofcourse.IsupposeyouhavecomeaboutthisveryunfortunateaffairofWinnieKing.Amostdistressingincident.”
MissPopedidnotlookdistressed.Shetookdisasterasitshouldbetaken,dealingwithitcompetentlyandtherebyreducingitalmosttoinsignificance.
“Suchathing,”saidMissPope,“hasneveroccurredbefore.”
“Andneverwillagain!”hermannerseemedtosay.
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Itwasthegirl’sfirstterm,here,wasitnot?”
“Itwas.”
“YouhadapreliminaryinterviewwithWinnie—andwithherparents?”
“Notrecently.Twoyearsago,IwasstayingnearCranchester—withtheBishop,asamatteroffact—”
MissPope’smannersaid:
(“Markthis,please.IamthekindofpersonwhostayswithBishops!”)
“WhileIwasthereImadetheacquaintanceofCanonandMrs.King.Mrs.King,alas,isaninvalid.ImetWinniethen.Averywellbroughtupgirl,withadecidedtasteforart.ItoldMrs.KingthatIshouldbehappytoreceiveherhereinayearortwo—whenhergeneralstudieswerecompleted.Wespecializehere,M.Poirot,inArtandMusic.ThegirlsaretakentotheOpera,totheComédieFran?aise,theyattendlecturesattheLouvre.Theverybestmasterscomeheretoinstructtheminmusic,singing,andpainting.Thebroaderculture,thatisouraim.”
MissPoperememberedsuddenlythatPoirotwasnotaparentandaddedabruptly:
“WhatcanIdoforyou,M.Poirot?”
“IwouldbegladtoknowwhatisthepresentpositionregardingWinnie?”
“CanonKinghascomeovertoAmiensandistakingWinniebackwithhim.Thewisestthingtodoaftertheshockthechildhassustained.”
Shewenton:
“Wedonottakedelicategirlshere.Wehavenospecialfacilitiesforlookingafterinvalids.ItoldtheCanonthatinmyopinionhewoulddowelltotakethechildhomewithhim.”
HerculePoirotaskedbluntly:
“Whatinyouropinionactuallyoccurred,MissPope?”
“Ihavenottheslightestidea,M.Poirot.Thewholething,asreportedtome,soundsquiteincredible.Ireallycannotseethatthememberofmystaffwhowasinchargeofthegirlswasinanywaytoblame—exceptthatshemight,perhaps,havediscoveredthegirl’sabsencesooner.”
Poirotsaid:
“Youhavereceivedavisit,perhaps,fromthepolice?”
AfaintshiverpassedoverMissPope’saristocraticform.Shesaidglacially:
“AMonsieurLefargeofthePréfecturecalledtoseeme,toseeifIcouldthrowanylightuponthesituation.NaturallyIwasunabletodoso.HethendemandedtoinspectWinnie’strunkwhichhad,ofcourse,arrivedherewiththoseoftheothergirls.Itoldhimthatthathadalreadybeencalledforbyanothermemberofthepolice.Theirdepartments,Ifancy,mustoverlap.Igotatelephonecall,shortlyafterwards,insistingthatIhadnotturnedoverallWinnie’spossessionstothem.Iwasextremelyshortwiththemoverthat.Onemustnotsubmittobeingbulliedbyofficialdom.”
Poirotdrewalongbreath.Hesaid:
“Youhaveaspiritednature.Iadmireyouforit,Mademoiselle.IpresumethatWinnie’strunkhadbeenunpackedonarrival?”
MissPopelookedalittleputoutofcountenance.
“Routine,”shesaid.“Welivestrictlybyroutine.ThegirlstrunksareunpackedonarrivalandtheirthingsputawayinthewayIexpectthemtobekept.Winnie’sthingswereunpackedwiththoseoftheothergirls.Naturally,theywereafterwardsrepacked,sothathertrunkwashandedoverexactlyasithadarrived.”
Poirotsaid:“Exactly?”
Hestrolledovertothewall.
“SurelythisisapictureofthefamousCranchesterBridgewiththeCathedralshowinginthedistance.”
“Youarequiteright,M.Poirot.Winniehadevidentlypaintedthattobringtomeasasurprise.Itwasinhertrunkwithawrapperrounditand‘ForMissPopefromWinnie’writtenonit.Verycharmingofthechild.”
“Ah!”saidPoirot.“Andwhatdoyouthinkofit—asapainting?”
HehimselfhadseenmanypicturesofCranchesterBridge.ItwasasubjectthatcouldalwaysbefoundrepresentedattheAcademyeachyear—sometimesasanoilpainting—sometimesinthewatercolourroom.Hehadseenitpaintedwell,paintedinamediocrefashion,paintedboringly.Buthehadneverseenitquiteascrudelyrepresentedasinthepresentexample.
MissPopewassmilingindulgently.
Shesaid:
“Onemustnotdiscourageone’sgirls,M.Poirot.Winniewillbestimulatedtodobetterwork,ofcourse.”
Poirotsaidthoughtfully:
“Itwouldhavebeenmorenatural,woulditnot,forhertodoawatercolour?”
“Yes.Ididnotknowshewasattemptingtopaintinoils.”
“Ah,”saidHerculePoirot.“Youwillpermitme,Mademoiselle?”
Heunhookedthepictureandtookittothewindow.Heexaminedit,then,lookingup,hesaid:
“Iamgoingtoaskyou,Mademoiselle,togivemethispicture.”
“Well,really,M.Poirot—”
“Youcannotpretendthatyouareveryattachedtoit.Thepaintingisabominable.”
“Oh,ithasnoartisticmerit,Iagree.Butitisapupil’sworkand—”
“Iassureyou,Mademoiselle,thatitisamostunsuitablepicturetohavehanginguponyourwall.”
“Idon’tknowwhyyoushouldsaythat,M.Poirot.”
“Iwillproveittoyouinamoment.”
Hetookabottle,aspongeandsomeragsfromhispocket.Hesaid:
“FirstIamgoingtotellyoualittlestory,Mademoiselle.IthasaresemblancetothestoryoftheUglyDucklingthatturnedintoaSwan.”
Hewasworkingbusilyashetalked.Theodourofturpentinefilledtheroom.
“Youdonotperhapsgomuchtotheatricalrevues?”
“No,indeed,theyseemtomesotrivial….”
“Trivial,yes,butsometimesinstructive.Ihaveseenacleverrevueartistchangeherpersonalityinthemostmiraculousway.Inonesketchsheisacabaretstar,exquisiteandglamorous.Tenminuteslater,sheisanundersized,an?micchildwithadenoids,dressedinagymtunic—tenminuteslaterstill,sheisaraggedgypsytellingfortunesbya
“Verypossible,nodoubt,butIdonotsee—”
“ButIamshowingyouhowtheconjuringtrickwasworkedonthetrain.Winnie,theschoolgirl,withherfairplaits,herspectacles,herdisfiguringdentalplate—goesintotheToilette.Sheemergesaquarterofanhourlateras—tousethewordsofDetectiveInspectorHearn—‘aflashypieceofgoods.’Sheersilkstockings,highheeledshoes—aminkcoattocoveraschooluniform,adaringlittlepieceofvelvetcalledahatperchedonhercurls—andaface—ohyes,aface.Rouge,powder,lipstick,mascara!Whatistherealfaceofthatquickchangeartistereallylike?ProbablyonlythegoodGodknows!Butyou,Mademoiselle,youyourself,youhaveoftenseenhowtheawkwardschoolgirlchangesalmostmiraculouslyintotheattractiveandwell-groomeddébutante.”
MissPopegasped.
“DoyoumeanthatWinnieKingdisguisedherselfas—”
“NotWinnieKing—no.WinniewaskidnappedonthewayacrossLondon.Ourquickchangeartistetookherplace.MissBurshawhadneverseenWinnieKing—howwasshetoknowthattheschoolgirlwiththelankplaitsandthebraceonherteethwasnotWinnieKingatall?Sofar,sogood,buttheimpostorcouldnotaffordactuallytoarrivehere,sinceyouwereacquaintedwiththerealWinnie.Soheypresto,WinniedisappearsintheToiletteandemergesaswifetoamancalledJimElliotwhosepassportincludesawife!Thefairplaits,thespectacles,thelislethreadstockings,thedentalplate—allthatcangointoasmallspace.Butthethickunglamorousshoesandthehat—thatveryunyieldingBritishhat—havetobedisposedofelsewhere—theygooutofthewindow.Later,therealWinnieisbroughtacrossthechannel—nooneislookingforasick,half-dopedchildbeingbroughtfromEnglandtoFrance—andisquietlydepositedfromacarbythesideofthemainroad.Ifshehasbeendopedallalongwithscopolamine,shewillrememberverylittleofwhathasoccurred.”
MissPopewasstaringatPoirot.Shedemanded:
“Butwhy?Whatwouldbethereasonofsuchasenselessmasquerade?”
Poirotrepliedgravely:
“Winnie’sluggage!ThesepeoplewantedtosmugglesomethingfromEnglandintoFrance—somethingthateveryCustomsmanwasonthelookoutfor—infact,stolengoods.Butwhatplaceissaferthanaschoolgirl’strunk?Youarewell-known,MissPope,yourestablishmentisjustlyfamous.AttheGareduNordthetrunksofMesdemoisellesthelittlePensionnairesarepassedenbloc.Itisthewell-knownEnglishschoolofMissPope!Andthen,afterthekidnapping,whatmorenaturalthantosendandcollectthechild’sluggage—ostensiblyfromthePréfecture?”
HerculePoirotsmiled.
“Butfortunately,therewastheschoolroutineofunpackingtrunksonarrival—andapresentforyoufromWinnie—butnotthesamepresentthatWinniepackedatCranchester.”
Hecametowardsher.
“Youhavegiventhispicturetome.Observenow,youmustadmitthatitisnotsuitableforyourselectschool!”
Heheldoutthecanvas.
AsthoughbymagicCranchesterBridgehaddisappeared.Insteadwasaclassicalsceneinrich,dimcolourings.
Poirotsaidsoftly:
“TheGirdleofHyppolita.HyppolitagiveshergirdletoHercules—paintedbyRubens.Agreatworkofart—maistoutdemêmenotquitesuitableforyourdrawingroom.”
MissPopeblushedslightly.
Hyppolita’shandwasonhergirdle—shewaswearingnothingelse…Herculeshadalionskinthrownlightlyoveroneshoulder.ThefleshofRubensisrich,voluptuousflesh….
MissPopesaid,regainingherpoise:
“Afineworkofart…Allthesame—asyousay—afterall,onemustconsiderthesusceptibilitiesofparents.Someofthemareinclinedtobenarrow…ifyouknowwhatImean….”
V
ItwasjustasPoirotwasleavingthehousethattheonslaughttookplace.Hewassurrounded,hemmed-in,overwhelmedbyacrowdofgirls,thick,thin,darkandfair.
“MonDieu!”hemurmured.“HereindeedistheattackbytheAmazons!”
Atallfairgirlwascryingout:
“Arumourhasgoneround—”
Theysurgedcloser.HerculePoirotwassurrounded.Hedisappearedinawaveofyoung,vigorousfemininity.
Twenty-fivevoicesarose,pitchedinvariouskeysbutallutteringthesamemomentousphrase.
“M.Poirot,willyouwriteyournameinmyautographbook?”
Ten
THEFLOCKOFGERYON
“Ireallydoapologizeforintrudinglikethis,M.Poirot.”
MissCarnabyclaspedherhandsferventlyroundherhandbagandleanedforward,peeringanxiouslyintoPoirot’sface.Asusual,shesoundedbreathless.
HerculePoirot’seyebrowsrose.
Shesaidanxiously:
“Youdorememberme,don’tyou?”
HerculePoirot’seyestwinkled.Hesaid:
“IrememberyouasoneofthemostsuccessfulcriminalsIhaveeverencountered!”
“Ohdearme,M.Poirot,mustyoureallysaysuchthings?Youweresokindtome.EmilyandIoftentalkaboutyou,andifweseeanythingaboutyouinthepaperwecutitoutatonceandpasteitinabook.AsforAugustus,wehavetaughthimanewtrick.Wesay,‘DieforSherlockHolmes,dieforMr.Fortune,dieforSirHenryMerrivale,andthendieforM.HerculePoirot’andhegoesdownandlieslikealog—liesabsolutelystillwithoutmovinguntilwesaytheword!”
“Iamgratified,”saidPoirot.“AndhowiscecherAuguste?”
MissCarnabyclaspedherhandsandbecameeloquentinpraiseofherPekinese.
“Oh,M.Poirot,he’sclevererthanever.Heknowseverything.Doyouknow,theotherdayIwasjustadmiringababyinapramandsuddenlyIfeltatugandtherewasAugustustryinghishardesttobitethroughhislead.Wasn’tthatclever?”
Poirot’seyestwinkled.Hesaid:
“ItlookstomeasthoughAugustussharedthesecriminaltendencieswewerespeakingofjustnow!”
MissCarnabydidnotlaugh.Instead,herniceplumpfacegrewworriedandsad.Shesaidinakindofgasp:
“Oh,M.Poirot,I’msoworried.”
Poirotsaidkindly:
“Whatisit?”
“Doyouknow,M.Poirot,I’mafraid—Ireallyamafraid—thatImustbeahardenedcriminal—ifImayusesuchaterm.Ideascometome!”
“Whatkindofideas?”
“Themostextraordinaryideas!Forinstance,yesterday,areallymostpracticalschemeforrobbingapostofficecameintomyhead.Iwasn’tthinkingaboutit—itjustcame!Andanotherveryingeniouswayforevadingcustomduties…Ifeelconvinced—quiteconvinced—thatitwouldwork.”
“Itprobablywould,”saidPoirotdrily.“Thatisthedangerofyourideas.”
“Ithasworriedme,M.Poirot,verymuch.Havingbeenbroughtupwithstrictprinciples,asIhavebeen,itismostdisturbingthatsuchlawless—suchreallywicked—ideasshouldcometome.Thetroubleispartly,Ithink,thatIhaveagooddealofleisuretimenow.IhaveleftLadyHogginandIamengagedbyanoldladytoreadtoherandwriteherletterseveryday.ThelettersaresoondoneandthemomentIbeginreadingshegoestosleep,soIamleftjustsittingthere—withanidlemind—andweallknowtheusethedevilhasforidleness.”
“Tcha,tcha,”saidPoirot.
“RecentlyIhavereadabook—averymodernbook,translatedfromtheGerman.Itthrowsamostinterestinglightoncriminaltendencies.Onemust,soIunderstand,sublimateone’simpulses!That,really,iswhyIcametoyou.”
“Yes?”saidPoirot.
“Yousee,M.Poirot.Ithinkthatitisreallynotsomuchwickednessasacravingforexcitement!Mylifehasunfortunatelybeenveryhumdrum.The—er—campaignofthePekinesedogs,Isometimesfeel,wastheonlytimeIreallylived.Veryreprehensible,ofcourse,but,asmybooksays,onemustnotturnone’sbackonthetruth.Icametoyou,M.Poirot,becauseIhopeditmightbepossibleto—tosublimatethatcravingforexcitementbyemployingit,ifImayputitthatway,onthesideoftheangels.”
“Aha,”saidPoirot.“Itisthenasacolleaguethatyoupresentyourself?”
MissCarnabyblushed.
“Itisverypresumptuousofme,Iknow.Butyouweresokind—”
Shestopped.Hereyes,fadedblueeyes,hadsomethinginthemofthepleadingofadogwhohopesagainsthopethatyouwilltakehimforawalk.
“Itisanidea,”saidHerculePoirotslowly.
“Iam,ofcourse,notatallclever,”explainedMissCarnaby.“Butmypowersof—ofdissimulationaregood.Theyhavetobe—otherwiseonewouldbedischargedfromthepostofcompanionimmediately.AndIhavealwaysfoundthattoappearevenstupiderthanoneis,occasionallyhasgoodresults.”
HerculePoirotlaughed.Hesaid:
“Youenchantme,Mademoiselle.”
“Ohdear,M.Poirot,whataverykindmanyouare.Thenyoudoencouragemetohope?Asithappens,Ihavejustreceivedasmalllegacy—averysmallone,butitenablesmysisterandmyselftokeepandfeedourselvesinafrugalmannersothatIamnotabsolutelydependentonwhatIearn.”
“Imustconsider,”saidPoirot,“whereyourtalentsmaybestbeemployed.Youhavenoideayourself,Isuppose?”
“Youknow,youmustreallybeathoughtreader,M.Poirot.Ihavebeenanxiouslatelyaboutafriendofmine.Iwasgoingtoconsultyou.Ofcourseyoumaysayitisallanoldmaid’sfancy—justimagination.Oneisprone,perhaps,toexaggerate,andtoseedesignwheretheremaybeonlycoincidence.”
“Idonotthinkyouwouldexaggerate,MissCarnaby.Tellmewhatisonyourmind.”
“Well,Ihaveafriend,averydearfriend,thoughIhavenotseenverymuchofheroflateyears.HernameisEmmelineClegg.ShemarriedamanintheNorthofEnglandandhediedafewyearsagoleavingherverycomfortablyoff.ShewasunhappyandlonelyafterhisdeathandIamafraidsheisinsomewaysaratherfoolishandperhapscredulouswoman.Religion,M.Poirot,canbeagreathelpandsustenance—butbythatImeanorthodoxreligion.”
“YourefertotheGreekChurch?”askedPoirot.
MissCarnabylookedshocked.
“Ohno,indeed.ChurchofEngland.AndthoughIdonotapproveofRomanCatholics,theyareatleastrecognized.AndtheWesleyansandCongregationalists—theyareallwell-knownrespectablebodies.WhatIamtalkingaboutaretheseoddsects.Theyjustspringup.TheyhaveakindofemotionalappealbutsometimesIhaveverygravedoubtsastowhetherthereisanytruereligiousfeelingbehindthematall.”
“Youthinkyourfriendisbeingvictimizedbyasectofthiskind?”
“Ido.Oh!Icertainlydo.TheFlockoftheShepherd,theycallthemselves.TheirheadquartersisinDevonshire—averylovelyestatebythesea.TheadherentsgothereforwhattheytermaRetreat.Thatisaperiodofafortnight—withreligiousservicesandrituals.AndtherearethreebigFestivalsintheyear,theComingofthePasture,theFullPasture,andtheReapingofthePasture.”
“Whichlastisstupid,”saidPoirot.“Becauseonedoesnotreappasture.”
“Thewholethingisstupid,”saidMissCarnabywithwarmth.“Thewholesectcentresroundtheheadofthemovement,theGreatShepherd,heiscalled.ADr.Andersen.Averyhandsome-lookingman,Ibelieve,withapresence.”
“Whichisattractivetothewomen,yes?”
“Iamafraidso,”MissCarnabysighed.“Myfatherwasaveryhandsomeman.Sometimes,itwasmostawkwardintheparish.Therivalryinembroideringvestments—andthedivisionofchurchwork….”
Sheshookherheadreminiscently.
“ArethemembersoftheGreatFlockmostlywomen?”
“Atleastthreequartersofthem,Igather.Whatmenthereare,aremostlycranks!Itisuponthewomenthatthesuccessofthemovementdependsand—andonthefundstheysupply.”
“Ah,”saidPoirot.“Nowwecometoit.Frankly,youthinkthewholethingisaramp?”
“Frankly,M.Poirot,Ido.Andanotherthingworriesme.Ihappentoknowthatmypoorfriendissoboundupinthisreligionthatshehasrecentlymadeawillleavingallherpropertytothemovement.”
Poirotsaidsharply:
“Wasthat—suggestedtoher?”
“Inallfairness,no.Itwasentirelyherownidea.TheGreatShepherdhadshownheranewwayoflife—soallthatshehadwastogoonherdeathtotheGreatCause.Whatreallyworriesmeis—”
“Yes—goon—”
“Severalwealthywomenhavebeenamongthedevotees.Inthelastyearthreeofthem,noless,havedied.”
“Leavingalltheirmoneytothissect?”
“Yes.”
“Theirrelationshavemadenoprotest?Ishouldhavethoughtitlikelythattheremighthavebeenlitigation.”
“Yousee,M.Poirot,itisusuallylonelywomenwhobelongtothisgathering.Peoplewhohavenoverynearrelationsorfriends.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.MissCarnabyhurriedon:
“OfcourseI’venorighttosuggestanythingatall.FromwhatIhavebeenabletofindout,therewasnothingwrongaboutanyofthesedeaths.One,Ibelieve,waspneumoniafollowinginfluenzaandanotherwasattributedtogastriculcer.Therewereabsolutelynosuspiciouscircumstances,ifyouknowwhatImean,andthedeathsdidnottakeplaceatGreenHillsSanctuary,butattheirownhomes.I’venodoubtitisquiteallright,butallthesameI—well—Ishouldn’tlikeanythingtohappentoEmmie.”
Sheclaspedherhands,hereyesappealedtoPoirot.
Poirothimselfwassilentforsomeminutes.Whenhespoketherewasachangeinhisvoice.Itwasgraveanddeep.
Hesaid:
“Willyougiveme,orwillyoufindoutforme,thenamesandaddressesofthesemembersofthesectwhohaverecentlydied?”
“Yesindeed,M.Poirot.”
Poirotsaidslowly:
“Mademoiselle,Ithinkyouareawomanofgreatcourageanddetermination.Youhavegoodhistrionicpowers.Wouldyoubewillingtoundertakeapieceofworkthatmaybeattendedwithconsiderabledanger?”
“Ishouldlikenothingbetter,”saidtheadventurousMissCarnaby.
Poirotsaidwarningly:
“Ifthereisariskatall,itwillbeagraveone.Youcomprehend—eitherthisisamare’snestoritisserious.Tofindoutwhichitis,itwillbenecessaryforyouyourselftobecomeamemberoftheGreatFlock.Iwouldsuggestthatyouexaggeratetheamountofthelegacythatyourecentlyinherited.Youarenowawell-to-dowomanwithnoverydefiniteaiminlife.YouarguewithyourfriendEmmelineaboutthisreligionshehasadopted—assureherthatitisallnonsense.Sheiseagertoconvertyou.YouallowyourselftobepersuadedtogodowntoGreenHillsSanctuary.AndthereyoufallavictimtothepersuasivepowersandmagneticinfluenceofDr.Andersen.IthinkIcansafelyleavethatparttoyou?”
MissCarnabysmiledmodestly.Shemurmured:
“IthinkIcanmanagethatallright!”
II
“Well,myfriend,whathaveyougotforme?”
ChiefInspectorJapplookedthoughtfullyatthelittlemanwhoaskedthequestion.Hesaidruefully:
“NotatallwhatI’dliketohave,Poirot.Ihatetheselong-haired,religiouscrankslikepoison.Fillingupwomenwithalotofmumbojumbo.Butthisfellow’sbeingcareful.There’snothingonecangetholdof.Allsoundsabitbattybutharmless.”
“HaveyoulearnedanythingaboutthisDr.Andersen?”
“I’velookeduphispasthistory.HewasapromisingchemistandgotchuckedoutofsomeGermanUniversity.SeemshismotherwasJewish.HewasalwayskeenonthestudyofOrientalMythsandReligions,spentallhissparetimeonthatandhaswrittenvariousarticlesonthesubject—someofthearticlessoundprettycrazytome.”
“Soitispossiblethatheisagenuinefanatic?”
“I’mboundtosayitseemsquitelikely!”
“WhataboutthosenamesandaddressesIgaveyou?”
“Nothingdoingthere.MissEverittdiedofulcerativecolitis.Doctorquitepositivetherewasnohanky-panky.Mrs.Lloyddiedofbronchopneumonia.LadyWesterndiedoftuberculosis.Hadsufferedfromitmanyyearsago—beforesheevenmetthisbunch.MissLeediedoftyphoid—attributedtosomesaladsheatesomewhereinthenorthofEngland.Threeofthemgotillanddiedintheirownhomes,andMrs.LloyddiedinahotelinthesouthofFrance.Asfarasthosedeathsgo,there’snothingtoconnectthemwiththeGreatFlockorwithAndersen’splacedowninDevonshire.Mustbepurecoincidence.AllabsolutelyO.K.andaccordingtoCocker.”
HerculePoirotsighed.Hesaid:
“Andyet,moncher,IhaveafeelingthatthisisthetenthLaborofHercules,andthatthisDr.AndersenistheMonsterGeryonwhomitismymissiontodestroy.”
Japplookedathimanxiously.
“Lookhere,Poirot,youhaven’tbeenreadinganyqueerliteratureyourselflately,haveyou?”
Poirotsaidwithdignity:
“Myremarksare,asalways,apt,sound,andtothepoint.”
“Youmightstartanewreligionyourself,”saidJapp,“withthecreed:‘ThereisnoonesocleverasHerculePoirot,Amen,D.C.Repeatadlib.’!”
III
“ItisthepeaceherethatIfindsowonderful,”saidMissCarnaby,breathingheavilyandecstatically.
“Itoldyouso,Amy,”saidEmmelineClegg.
Thetwofriendsweresittingontheslopeofahillsideoverlookingadeepandlovelybluesea.Thegrasswasvividgreen,theearthandthecliffsadeep,glowingred.ThelittleestatenowknownasGreenHillsSanctuarywasapromontorycomprisingaboutsixacres.Onlyanarrowneckoflandjoinedittothemainlandsothatitwasalmostanisland.
Mrs.Cleggmurmuredsentimentally:
“Theredland—thelandofglowandpromise—wherethreefolddestinyistobeaccomplished.”
MissCarnabysigheddeeplyandsaid:
“IthoughttheMasterputitallsobeautifullyattheservicelastnight.”
“Wait,”saidherfriend,“forthefestivaltonight.TheFullGrowthofthePasture!”
“I’mlookingforwardtoit,”saidMissCarnaby.
“Youwillfinditawonderfulspiritualexperience,”herfriendpromisedher
MissCarnabyhadarrivedatGreenHillsSanctuaryaweekpreviously.Herattitudeonarrivalhadbeen:“Nowwhat’sallthisnonsense?Really,Emmie,asensiblewomanlikeyou—etc.,etc.”
AtapreliminaryinterviewwithDr.Andersen,shehadconscientiouslymadeherpositionquiteclear.
“Idon’twanttofeelthatIamhereunderfalsepretences,Dr.Andersen.MyfatherwasaclergymanoftheChurchofEnglandandIhaveneverwaveredinmyfaith.Idon’tholdwithheathendoctrines.”
Thebig,golden-hairedmanhadsmiledather—averysweetandunderstandingsmile.Hehadlookedindulgentlyattheplump,ratherbelligerentfiguresittingsosquarelyinherchair.
“DearMissCarnaby,”hesaid.“YouareMrs.Clegg’sfriend,andassuchwelcome.Andbelieveme,ourdoctrinesarenotheathen.Hereallreligionsarewelcomed,andallhonouredequally.”
“Thentheyshouldn’tbe,”saidthestaunchdaughterofthelateReverendThomasCarnaby.
Leaningbackinhischair,theMastermurmuredinhisrichvoice:“InmyFather’sHousearemanymansions…Rememberthat,MissCarnaby.”
Astheyleftthepresence,MissCarnabymurmuredtoherfriend:“Hereallyisaveryhandsomeman.”
“Yes,”saidEmmelineClegg.“Andsowonderfullyspiritual.”
MissCarnabyagreed.Itwastrue—shehadfeltit—anauraofunworldliness—ofspirituality….
Shetookagripuponherself.Shewasnotheretofallapreytothefascination,spiritualorotherwise,oftheGreatShepherd.SheconjuredupavisionofHerculePoirot.Heseemedveryfaraway,andcuriouslymundane….
“Amy,”saidMissCarnabytoherself.“Takeagripuponyourself.Rememberwhatyouareherefor….”
Butasthedayswenton,shefoundherselfsurrenderingonlytooeasilytothespellofGreenHills.Thepeace,thesimplicity,thedeliciousthoughsimplefood,thebeautyoftheserviceswiththeirchantsofLoveandWorship,thesimplemovingwordsoftheMaster,appealingtoallthatwasbestandhighestinhumanity—hereallthestrifeanduglinessoftheworldwasshutout.HerewasonlyPeaceandLove….
AndtonightwasthegreatsummerFestival,theFestivaloftheFullPasture.Andatit,she,AmyCarnaby,wastobecomeinitiated—tobecomeoneoftheFlock.
TheFestivaltookplaceinthewhite,glittering,concretebuilding,calledbytheInitiatestheSacredFold.Herethedevoteesassembledjustbeforethesettingofthesun.Theyworesheepskincloaksandhadsandalsontheirfeet.Theirarmswerebare.InthecentreoftheFoldonaraisedplatformstoodDr.Andersen.Thebigman,golden-hairedandblue-eyed,withhisfairbeardandhishandsomeprofilehadneverseemedmorecompelling.Hewasdressedinagreenrobeandcarriedashepherd’scrookofgold.
Heraisedthisaloftandadeathlysilencefellontheassembly.
“Wherearemysheep?”
Theanswercamefromthecrowd.
“Wearehere,OShepherd.”
“Liftupyourheartswithjoyandthanksgiving.ThisistheFeastofJoy.”
“TheFeastofJoyandwearejoyful.”
“Thereshallbenomoresorrowforyou,nomorepain.Allisjoy!”
“Allisjoy.”
“HowmanyheadshastheShepherd?”
“Threeheads,aheadofgold,aheadofsilver,aheadofsoundingbrass.”
“HowmanybodieshavetheSheep?”
“Threebodies,abodyofflesh,abodyofcorruption,andabodyoflight.”
“HowshallyoubesealedintheFlock?”
“BytheSacramentofBlood.”
“AreyoupreparedforthatSacrament?”
“Weare.”
“Bindyoureyesandholdforthyourrightarm.”
Thecrowdobedientlyboundtheireyeswiththegreenscarvesprovidedforthepurpose.MissCarnaby,liketherest,heldherarmoutinfrontofher.
TheGreatShepherdmovedalongthelinesofhisFlock.Therewerelittlecries,moansofeitherpainorecstasy.
MissCarnaby,toherself,saidfiercely:
“Mostblasphemous,thewholething!Thiskindofreligioushysteriaistobedeplored.Ishallremainabsolutelycalmandobservethereactionsofotherpeople.Iwillnotbecarriedaway—Iwillnot….”
TheGreatShepherdhadcometoher.Shefeltherarmtaken,held,therewasasharp,stingingpainliketheprickofaneedle.TheShepherd’svoicemurmured:
“TheSacramentofBloodthatbringsjoy.”
Hepassedon.
Presentlytherecameacommand.
“Unveilandenjoythepleasuresofthespirit!”
Thesunwasjustsinking.MissCarnabylookedroundher.Atonewiththeothers,shemovedslowlyoutoftheFold.Shefeltsuddenlyuplifted,happy.Shesankdownonasoft,grassybank.Whyhadsheeverthoughtshewasalonely,unwanted,middle-agedwoman?Lifewaswonderful—sheherselfwaswonderful!Shehadthepowerofthought—ofdreaming.Therewasnothingthatshecouldnotaccomplish!
Agreatrushofexhilarationsurgedthroughher.Sheobservedherfellowdevoteesroundher—theyseemedsuddenlytohavegrowntoanimmensestature.
“Liketreeswalking…”saidMissCarnabytoherselfreverently.
Sheliftedherhand.Itwasapurposefulgesture—withitshecouldcommandtheearth.C?sar,Napoleon,Hitler—poor,miserable,littlefellows!Theyknewnothingofwhatshe,AmyCarnaby,coulddo!Tomorrowshewouldarrangeforworldpeace,forInternationalBrotherhood.ThereshouldbenomoreWars—nomorePoverty—nomoreDisease.She,AmyCarnaby,woulddesignaNewWorld.
Butthereneedbenohurry.Timewasinfinite…Minutesucceededminute,hoursucceededhour!MissCarnaby’slimbsfeltheavy,buthermindwasdelightfullyfree.Itcouldroamatwilloverthewholeuniverse.Sheslept—butevenasshesleptshedreamt…Greatspaces…vastbuildings…anewandwonderfulworld….
Graduallytheworldshrank,MissCarnabyyawned.Shemovedherstifflimbs.Whathadhappenedsinceyesterday?Lastnightshehaddreamt….
Therewasamoon.Byit,MissCarnabycouldjustdistinguishthefiguresonherwatch.Toherstupefactionthehandspointedtoaquartertoten.Thesun,assheknew,hadsetateight-ten.Onlyanhourandthirty-fiveminutesago?Impossible.Andyet—
“Veryremarkable,”saidMissCarnabytoherself.
IV
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Youmustobeymyinstructionsverycarefully.Youunderstand?”
“Ohyes,M.Poirot.Youmayrelyonme.”
“Youhavespokenofyourintentiontobenefitthecult?”
“Yes,M.Poirot.IspoketotheMaster—excuseme,toDr.Andersenmyself.Itoldhimveryemotionallywhatawonderfulrevelationthewholethinghadbeen—howIhadcometoscoffandremainedtobelieve.I—reallyitseemedquitenaturaltosayallthesethings.Dr.Andersen,youknow,hasalotofmagneticcharm.”
“SoIperceive,”saidHerculePoirotdrily.
“Hismannerwasmostconvincing.Onereallyfeelshedoesn’tcareaboutmoneyatall.‘Givewhatyoucan,’hesaidsmilinginthatwonderfulwayofhis,‘ifyoucangivenothing,itdoesnotmatter.YouareoneoftheFlockjustthesame.’‘Oh,Dr.Andersen,’Isaid,‘Iamnotsobadlyoffasthat.IhavejustinheritedaconsiderableamountofmoneyfromadistantrelativeandthoughIcannotactuallytouchanyofthemoneyuntilthelegalformalitiesareallcompliedwith,thereisonethingIwanttodoatonce.’AndthenIexplainedthatIwasmakingawillandthatIwantedtoleaveallIhadtotheBrotherhood.IexplainedthatIhadnonearrelatives.”
“Andhegraciouslyacceptedthebequest?”
“Hewasverydetachedaboutit.SaiditwouldbemanylongyearsbeforeIpassedover,thathecouldtellIwascutoutforalonglifeofjoyandspiritualfulfilment.Hereallyspeaksmostmovingly.”
“Soitwouldseem.”
Poirot’stonewasdry.Hewenton:
“Youmentionedyourhealth?”
“Yes,M.Poirot.ItoldhimthatIhadhadlungtrouble,andthatithadrecurredmorethanonce,butthatafinaltreatmentinaSanatoriumsomeyearsagohad,Ihoped,quitecuredme.”
“Excellent!”
“ThoughwhyitisnecessaryformetosaythatIamconsumptivewhenmylungsareassoundasabellIreallycannotsee.”
“Beassureditisnecessary.Youmentionedyourfriend?”
“Yes.Itoldhim(strictlyinconfidence)thatdearEmmeline,besidesthefortuneshehadinheritedfromherhusband,wouldinheritanevenlargersumshortlyfromanauntwhowasdeeplyattachedtoher.”
“Ehbien,thatoughttokeepMrs.Cleggsafeforthetimebeing!”
“Oh,M.Poirot,doyoureallythinkthereisanythingwrong?”
“ThatiswhatIamgoingtoendeavourtofindout.HaveyoumetaMr.ColedownattheSanctuary?”
“TherewasaMr.ColetherelasttimeIwentdown.Amostpeculiarman.Hewearsgrass-greenshortsandeatsnothingbutcabbage.Heisaveryardentbeliever.”
“Ehbien,allprogresseswell—Imakeyoumycomplimentsontheworkyouhavedone—allisnowsetfortheAutumnFestival.”
V
“MissCarnaby—justamoment.”
Mr.ColeclutchedatMissCarnaby,hiseyesbrightandfeverish.
“IhavehadaVision—amostremarkableVision.Ireallymusttellyouaboutit.”
MissCarnabysighed.ShewasratherafraidofMr.ColeandhisVisions.ThereweremomentswhenshewasdecidedlyoftheopinionthatMr.Colewasmad.
AndshefoundtheseVisionsofhissometimesveryembarrassing.TheyrecalledtohercertainoutspokenpassagesinthatverymodernGermanbookontheSubconsciousMindwhichshehadreadbeforecomingdowntoDevon.
Mr.Cole,hiseyesglistening,hislipstwitching,begantotalkexcitedly.
“Ihadbeenmeditating—reflectingontheFullnessofLife,ontheSupremeJoyofOneness—andthen,youknow,myeyeswereopenedandIsaw—”
MissCarnabybracedherselfandhopedthatwhatMr.Colehadseenwouldnotbewhathehadseenthelasttime—whichhadbeen,apparently,aRitualMarriageinancientSumeriabetweenagodandgoddess.
“Isaw”—Mr.Coleleanttowardsher,breathinghard,hiseyeslooking(yes,reallytheydid)quitemad—“theProphetElijahdescendingfromHeaveninhisfierychariot.”
MissCarnabybreathedasighofrelief.Elijahwasmuchbetter,shedidn’tmindElijah.
“Below,”wentonMr.Cole,“werethealtarsofBaal—hundredsandhundredsofthem.AVoicecriedtome:‘Look,writeandtestifythatwhichyoushallsee—’”
HestoppedandMissCarnabymurmuredpolitely:“Yes?”
“Onthealtarswerethesacrifices,boundthere,helpless,waitingfortheknife.Virgins—hundredsofvirgins—youngbeautiful,nakedvirgins—”
Mr.Colesmackedhislips,MissCarnabyblushed.
“Thencametheravens,theravensofOdin,flyingfromtheNorth.TheymettheravensofElijah—togethertheycircledinthesky—theyswooped,theypluckedouttheeyesofthevictims—therewaswailingandgnashingofteeth—andtheVoicecried:‘BeholdaSacrifice—foronthisdayshallJehovahandOdinsignbloodbrotherhood!’ThenthePriestsfellupontheirvictims,theyraisedtheirknives—theymutilatedtheirvictims—”
DesperatelyMissCarnabybrokeawayfromhertormentorwhowasnowslaveringatthemouthinakindofsadisticfervour:
“Excusemeonemoment.”
ShehastilyaccostedLipscomb,themanwhooccupiedtheLodgewhichgaveadmissiontoGreenHillsandwhoprovidentiallyhappenedtobepassing.
“Iwonder,”shesaid,“ifyouhavefoundabroochofmine.Imusthavedroppeditsomewhereaboutthegrounds.”
Lipscomb,whowasamanimmunefromthegeneralsweetnessandlightofGreenHills,merelygrowledthathehadn’tseenanybrooch.Itwasn’thisworktogoaboutlookingforthings.HetriedtoshakeoffMissCarnabybutsheaccompaniedhim,babblingaboutherbrooch,tillshehadputasafedistancebetweenherselfandthefervourofMr.Cole.
Atthatmoment,theMasterhimselfcameoutoftheGreatFoldand,emboldenedbyhisbenignantsmile,MissCarnabyventuredtospeakhermindtohim.
DidhethinkthatMr.Colewasquite—wasquite—
TheMasterlaidahandonhershoulder.
“YoumustcastoutFear,”hesaid.“PerfectLovecastethoutFear….”
“ButIthinkMr.Coleismad.ThoseVisionshehas—”
“Asyet,”saidtheMaster,“heseesImperfectly…throughtheGlassofhisownCarnalNature.ButthedaywillcomewhenheshallseeSpiritually—FacetoFace.”
MissCarnabywasabashed.Ofcourse,putlikethat—Sheralliedtomakeasmallerprotest.
“Andreally,”shesaid,“needLipscombbesoabominablyrude?”
AgaintheMastergavehisHeavenlySmile.
“Lipscomb,”hesaid,“isafaithfulwatchdog.Heisacrude—aprimitivesoul—butfaithful—utterlyfaithful.”
Hestrodeon.MissCarnabysawhimmeetMr.Cole,pause,putahandonMr.Cole’sshoulder.ShehopedthattheMaster’sinfluencemightalterthescopeoffuturevisions.
Inanycase,itwasonlyaweeknowtotheAutumnFestival.
VI
OntheafternoonprecedingtheFestival,MissCarnabymetHerculePoirotinasmallteashopinthesleepylittletownofNewtonWoodbury.MissCarnabywasflushedandevenmorebreathlessthanusual.Shesatsippingteaandcrumblingarockbunbetweenherfingers.
Poirotaskedseveralquestionstowhichsherepliedmonosyllabically.
Thenhesaid:
“HowmanywilltherebeattheFestival?”
“Ithinkahundredandtwenty.Emmelineisthere,ofcourse,andMr.Cole—reallyhehasbeenveryoddlately.Hehasvisions.Hedescribedsomeofthemtome—reallymostpeculiar—Ihope,Idohope,heisnotinsane.Thentherewillbequitealotofnewmembers—nearlytwenty.”
“Good.Youknowwhatyouhavetodo?”
Therewasamoment’spausebeforeMissCarnabysaidinaratheroddvoice:
“Iknowwhatyoutoldme,M.Poirot….”
“Trèsbien!”
ThenAmyCarnabysaidclearlyanddistinctly:
“ButIamnotgoingtodoit.”
HerculePoirotstaredather.MissCarnabyrosetoherfeet.Hervoicecamefastandhysterical.
“YousentmeheretospyonDr.Andersen.Yoususpectedhimofallsortsofthings.Butheisawonderfulman—agreatTeacher.Ibelieveinhimheartandsoul!AndIamnotgoingtodoyourspyingworkanymore,M.Poirot!IamoneoftheSheepoftheShepherd.TheMasterhasanewmessagefortheWorldandfromnowon,Ibelongtohimbodyandsoul.AndI’llpayformyowntea,please.”
WithwhichslightanticlimaxMissCarnabyplonkeddownoneandthreepenceandrushedoutoftheteashop.
“Nomd’unnomd’unnom,”saidHerculePoirot.
Thewaitresshadtoaskhimtwicebeforeherealizedthatshewaspresentingthebill.Hemettheinterestedstareofasurlylookingmanatthenexttable,flushed,paidthecheckandgotupandwentout.
Hewasthinkingfuriously.
VII
OnceagaintheSheepwereassembledintheGreatFold.TheRitualQuestionsandAnswershadbeenchanted.
“AreyoupreparedfortheSacrament?”
“Weare.”
“Bindyoureyesandholdoutyourrightarm.”
TheGreatShepherd,magnificentinhisgreenrobe,movedalongthewaitinglines.Thecabbage-eating,vision-seeingMr.Cole,nexttoMissCarnaby,gaveagulpofpainfulecstasyastheneedlepiercedhisflesh.
TheGreatShepherdstoodbyMissCarnaby.Hishandstouchedherarm….
“No,youdon’t.Noneofthat.”
Wordsincredible—unprecedented.Ascuffle,aroarofanger.Greenveilsweretornfromeyes—toseeanunbelievablesight—theGreatShepherdstrugglinginthegraspofthesheep-skinnedMr.Coleaidedbyanotherdevotee.
Inrapidprofessionaltones,theerstwhileMr.Colewassaying:
“—andIhavehereawarrantforyourarrest.Imustwarnyouthatanythingyousaymaybeusedinevidenceatyourtrial.”
TherewereotherfiguresnowatthedooroftheSheepFold—blueuniformedfigures.
Someonecried:“It’sthepolice.They’retakingtheMasteraway.They’retakingtheMaster….”
Everyonewasshocked—horrified…tothemtheGreatShepherdwasamartyr;suffering,asallgreatteacherssuffer,fromtheignoranceandpersecutionoftheoutsideworld….
MeanwhileDetectiveInspectorColewascarefullypackingupthehypodermicsyringethathadfallenfromtheGreatShepherd’shand.
VIII
“Mybravecolleague!”
PoirotshookMissCarnabywarmlybythehandandintroducedhertoChiefInspectorJapp.
“Firstclasswork,MissCarnaby,”saidChiefInspectorJapp.“Wecouldn’thavedoneitwithoutyouandthat’safact.”
“Ohdear!”MissCarnabywasflattered.“It’ssokindofyoutosayso.AndI’mafraid,youknow,thatI’vereallyenjoyeditall.Theexcitement,youknow,andplayingmypart.Igotquitecarriedawaysometimes.IreallyfeltIwasoneofthosefoolishwomen.”
“That’swhereyoursuccesslay,”saidJapp.“Youwerethegenuinearticle.Nothinglesswouldhavetakenthatgentlemanin!He’saprettyastutescoundrel.”
MissCarnabyturnedtoPoirot.
“Thatwasaterriblemomentintheteashop.Ididn’tknowwhattodo.Ijusthadtoactonthespurofthemoment.”
“Youweremagnificent,”saidPoirotwarmly.“ForamomentIthoughtthateitheryouorIhadtakenleaveofoursenses.Ithoughtforonelittleminutethatyoumeantit.”
“Itwassuchashock,”saidMissCarnaby.“Justwhenwehadbeentalkingconfidentially.IsawintheglassthatLipscomb,whokeepstheLodgeoftheSanctuary,wassittingatthetablebehindme.Idon’tknownowifitwasanaccidentorifhehadactuallyfollowedme.AsIsay,IhadtodothebestIcouldonthespuroftheminuteandtrustthatyouwouldunderstand.”
Poirotsmiled.
“Ididunderstand.TherewasonlyonepersonsittingnearenoughtooverhearanythingwesaidandassoonasIlefttheteashopIarrangedtohavehimfollowedwhenhecameout.WhenhewentstraightbacktotheSanctuaryIunderstoodthatIcouldrelyonyouandthatyouwouldnotletmedown—butIwasafraidbecauseitincreasedthedangerforyou.”
“Was—wastherereallydanger?Whatwasthereinthesyringe?”
Jappsaid:
“Willyouexplain,orshallI?”
Poirotsaidgravely:
“Mademoiselle,thisDr.Andersenhadperfectedaschemeofexploitationandmurder—scientificmurder.Mostofhislifehasbeenspentinbacteriologicalresearch.UnderadifferentnamehehasachemicallaboratoryinSheffield.Therehemakesculturesofvariousbacilli.Itwashispractice,attheFestivals,toinjectintohisfollowersasmall
“Mostremarkable,”saidMissCarnaby.“Reallyamostremarkablesensation.”
HerculePoirotnodded.
“Thatwashisgeneralstockintrade—adominatingpersonality,thepowerofcreatingmasshysteriaandthereactionsproducedbythisdrug.Buthehadasecondaiminview.
“Lonelywomen,intheirgratitudeandfervour,madewillsleavingtheirmoneytotheCult.Onebyone,thesewomendied.Theydiedintheirownhomesandapparentlyofnaturalcauses.WithoutbeingtootechnicalIwilltrytoexplain.Itispossibletomakeintensifiedculturesofcertainbacteria.ThebacillusColiCommunis,forinstance,thecauseofulcerativecolitis.Typhoidbacillicanbeintroducedintothesystem.SocanthePneumococcus.ThereisalsowhatistermedOldTuberculinwhichisharmlesstoahealthypersonbutwhichstimulatesanyoldtubercularlesionintoactivity.Youperceivetheclevernessoftheman?Thesedeathswouldoccurindifferentpartsofthecountry,withdifferentdoctorsattendingthemandwithoutanyriskofarousingsuspicion.Hehadalso,Igather,cultivatedasubstancewhichhadthepowerofdelayingbutintensifyingtheactionofthechosenbacillus.”
“He’sadevil,ifthereeverwasone!”saidChiefInspectorJapp.
Poirotwenton:
“Bymyorders,youtoldhimthatyouwereatuberculoussubject.TherewasOldTuberculininthesyringewhenColearrestedhim.Sinceyouwereahealthypersonitwouldnothaveharmedyou,whichiswhyImadeyoulaystressonyourtuberculartrouble.Iwasterrifiedthatevennowhemightchoosesomeothergerm,butIrespectedyourcourageandIhadtoletyoutaketherisk.”
“Oh,that’sallright,”saidMissCarnabybrightly.“Idon’tmindtakingrisks.I’monlyfrightenedofbullsinfieldsandthingslikethat.Buthaveyouenoughevidencetoconvictthisdreadfulperson?”
Jappgrinned.
“Plentyofevidence,”hesaid.“We’vegothislaboratoryandhisculturesandthewholelayout!”
Poirotsaid:
“Itispossible,Ithink,thathehascommittedalonglineofmurders.ImaysaythatitwasnotbecausehismotherwasaJewessthathewasdismissedfromthatGermanUniversity.Thatmerelymadeaconvenienttaletoaccountforhisarrivalhereandtogainsympathyforhim.Actually,Ifancy,heisofpureAryanblood.”
MissCarnabysighed.
“Qu’estcequ’ilya?”askedPoirot.
“Iwasthinking,”saidMissCarnaby,“ofamarvellousdreamIhadattheFirstFestival—hashish,Isuppose.Iarrangedthewholeworldsobeautifully!Nowars,nopoverty,noillhealth,nougliness….”
“Itmusthavebeenafinedream,”saidJappenviously.
MissCarnabyjumpedup.Shesaid:
“Imustgethome.Emilyhasbeensoanxious.AnddearAugustushasbeenmissingmeterribly,Ihear.”
HerculePoirotsaidwithasmile:
“Hewasafraid,perhaps,thatlikehim,youweregoingtodieforHerculePoirot!”
Eleven
THEAPPLESOFTHEHESPERIDES
HerculePoirotlookedthoughtfullyintothefaceofthemanbehindthebigmahoganydesk.Henotedthegenerousbrow,themeanmouth,therapaciouslineofthejawandthepiercing,visionaryeyes.HeunderstoodfromlookingatthemanwhyEmeryPowerhadbecomethegreatfinancialforcethathewas.
Andhiseyesfallingtothelongdelicatehands,exquisitelyshaped,thatlayonthedesk,heunderstood,too,whyEmeryPowerhadattainedrenownasagreatcollector.HewasknownonbothsidesoftheAtlanticasaconnoisseurofworksofart.Hispassionfortheartisticwenthandinhandwithanequalpassionforthehistoric.Itwasnotenoughforhimthatathingshouldbebeautiful—hedemandedalsothatitshouldhaveatraditionbehindit.
EmeryPowerwasspeaking.Hisvoicewasquiet—asmall,distinctvoicethatwasmoreeffectivethananymerevolumeofsoundcouldhavebeen.
“Youdonot,Iknow,takemanycasesnowadays.ButIthinkyouwilltakethisone.”
“Itis,then,anaffairofgreatmoment?”
EmeryPowersaid:
“Itisofmomenttome.”
Poirotremainedinanenquiringattitude,hisheadslightlyononeside.Helookedlikeameditativerobin.
Theotherwenton:
“Itconcernstherecoveryofaworkofart.Tobeexact,agoldchasedgoblet,datingfromtheRenaissance.ItissaidtobethegobletusedbyPopeAlexanderVI—RoderigoBorgia.Hesometimespresentedittoafavouredguesttodrinkfrom.Thatguest,M.Poirot,usuallydied.”
“Aprettyhistory,”Poirotmurmured.
“Itscareerhasalwaysbeenassociatedwithviolence.Ithasbeenstolenmorethanonce.Murderhasbeendonetogainpossessionofit.Atrailofbloodshedhasfolloweditthroughtheages.”
“Onaccountofitsintrinsicvalueorforotherreasons?”
“Itsintrinsicvalueiscertainlyconsiderable.Theworkmanshipisexquisite(itissaidtohavebeenmadebyBenvenutoCellini).Thedesignrepresentsatreeroundwhichajewelledserpentiscoiledandtheapplesonthetreeareformedofverybeautifulemeralds.”
Poirotmurmuredwithanapparentquickeningofinterest:
“Apples?”
“Theemeraldsareparticularlyfine,soaretherubiesintheserpent,butofcoursetherealvalueofthecupisitshistoricalassociations.ItwasputupforsalebytheMarchesediSanVeratrinoin1929.CollectorsbidagainsteachotherandIsecureditfinallyforasumequalling(atthethenrateofexchange)thirtythousandpounds.”
Poirotraisedhiseyebrows.Hemurmured:
“Indeedaprincelysum!TheMarchesediSanVeratrinowasfortunate.”
EmeryPowersaid:
“WhenIreallywantathing,Iamwillingtopayforit,M.Poirot.”
HerculePoirotsaidsoftly:
“YouhavenodoubtheardtheSpanishproverb:‘Takewhatyouwant—andpayforit,saysGod.’”
Foramomentthefinancierfrowned—aswiftlightofangershowedinhiseyes.Hesaidcoldly:
“Youarebywayofbeingaphilosopher,M.Poirot.”
“Ihavearrivedattheageofreflection,Monsieur.”
“Doubtless.Butitisnotreflectionthatwillrestoremygoblettome.”
“Youthinknot?”
“Ifancyactionwillbenecessary.”
HerculePoirotnoddedplacidly.
“Alotofpeoplemakethesamemistake.ButIdemandyourpardon,Mr.Power,wehavedigressedfromthematterinhand.YouweresayingthatyouhadboughtthecupfromtheMarchesediSanVeratrino?”
“Exactly.WhatIhavenowtotellyouisthatitwasstolenbeforeitactuallycameintomypossession.”
“Howdidthathappen?”
“TheMarchese’sPalacewasbrokenintoonthenightofthesaleandeightortenpiecesofconsiderablevaluewerestolen,includingthegoblet.”
“Whatwasdoneinthematter?”
Powershruggedhisshoulders.
“Thepolice,ofcourse,tookthematterinhand.Therobberywasrecognizedtobetheworkofawell-knowninternationalgangofthieves.Twooftheirnumber,aFrenchmancalledDublayandanItaliancalledRiccovetti,werecaughtandtried—someofthestolengoodswerefoundintheirpossession.”
“ButnottheBorgiagoblet?”
“ButnottheBorgiagoblet.Therewere,asfarasthepolicecouldascertain,threemenactuallyengagedintherobbery—thetwoIhavejustmentionedandathird,anIrishmannamedPatrickCasey.Thislastwasanexpertcatburglar.Itwashewhoissaidtohaveactuallystolenthethings.Dublaywasthebrainsofthegroupandplannedtheircoups;Riccovettidrovethecarandwaitedbelowforthegoodstobelowereddowntohim.”
“Andthestolengoods?Weretheysplitupintothreeparts?”
“Possibly.Ontheotherhand,thearticlesthatwererecoveredwerethoseofleastvalue.Itseemspossiblethatthemorenoteworthyandspectacularpieceshadbeenhastilysmuggledoutofthecountry.”
“Whataboutthethirdman,Casey?Washeneverbroughttojustice?”
“Notinthesenseyoumean.Hewasnotaveryyoungman.Hismuscleswerestifferthanformerly.Twoweekslaterhefellfromthefifthfloorofabuildingandwaskilledinstantly.”
“Wherewasthis?”
“InParis.Hewasattemptingtorobthehouseofthemillionairebanker,Duvauglier.”
“Andthegoblethasneverbeenseensince?”
“Exactly.”
“Ithasneverbeenofferedforsale?”
“Iamquitesureithasnot.Imaysaythatnotonlythepolice,butalsoprivateinquiryagents,havebeenonthelookoutforit.”
“Whataboutthemoneyyouhadpaidover?”
“TheMarchese,averypunctiliousperson,offeredtorefundittomeasthecuphadbeenstolenfromhishouse.”
“Butyoudidnotaccept?”
“No.”
“Whywasthat?”
“ShallwesaybecauseIpreferredtokeepthematterinmyownhands?”
“YoumeanthatifyouhadacceptedtheMarchese’soffer,thegoblet,ifrecovered,wouldbehisproperty,whereasnowitislegallyyours?”
“Exactly.”
“Whatwastherebehindthatattitudeofyours?”
EmeryPowersaidwithasmile:
“Youappreciatethatpoint,Isee.Well,M.Poirot,itisquitesimple.IthoughtIknewwhowasactuallyinpossessionofthegoblet.”
“Veryinteresting.Andwhowasit?”
“SirReubenRosenthal.Hewasnotonlyafellowcollectorbuthewasatthetimeapersonalenemy.Wehadbeenrivalsinseveralbusinessdeals—andonthewholeIhadcomeoutthebetter.OuranimosityculminatedinthisrivalryovertheBorgiaGoblet.Eachofuswasdeterminedtopossessit.Itwasmoreorlessapointofhonour.Ourappointedrepresentativesbidagainsteachotheratthesale.”
“Andyourrepresentative’sfinalbidsecuredthetreasure?”
“Notprecisely.Itooktheprecautionofhavingasecondagent—ostensiblytherepresentativeofaParisdealer.Neitherofus,youunderstand,wouldhavebeenwillingtoyieldtotheother,buttoallowathirdpartytoacquirethecup,withthepossibilityofapproachingthatthirdpartyquietlyafterwards—thatwasaverydifferentmatter.”
“Infact,unepetitedéception.”
“Exactly.”
“Whichwassuccessful—andimmediatelyafterwardsSirReubendiscoveredhowhehadbeentricked?”
Powersmiled.
Itwasarevealingsmile.
Poirotsaid:“Iseethepositionnow.YoubelievedthatSirReuben,determinednottobebeaten,deliberatelycommissionedthetheft?”
EmeryPowerraisedahand.
“Ohno,no!Itwouldnotbesocrudeasthat.Itamountedtothis—shortlyafterwardsSirReubenwouldhavepurchasedaRenaissancegoblet,provenanceunspecified.”
“Thedescriptionofwhichwouldhavebeencirculatedbythepolice?”
“Thegobletwouldnothavebeenplacedopenlyonview.”
“YouthinkitwouldhavebeensufficientforSirReubentoknowthathepossessedit?”
“Yes.Moreover,ifIhadacceptedtheMarchese’soffer—itwouldhavebeenpossibleforSirReubentoconcludeaprivatearrangementwithhimlater,thusallowingthegoblettopasslegallyintohispossession.”
Hepausedaminuteandthensaid:
“Butmyretainingthelegalownership,therewerestillpossibilitiesleftopentomeofrecoveringmyproperty.”
“Youmean,”saidPoirotbluntly,“thatyoucouldarrangeforittobestolenfromSirReuben.”
“Notstolen,M.Poirot.Ishouldhavebeenmerelyrecoveringmyownproperty.”
“ButIgatherthatyouwerenotsuccessful?”
“Foraverygoodreason.Rosenthalhasneverhadthegobletinhispossession!”
“Howdoyouknow?”
“Recentlytherehasbeenamergerofoilinterests.Rosenthal’sinterestsandminenowcoincide.Wearealliesandnotenemies.Ispoketohimfranklyonthesubjectandheatonceassuredmethatthecuphadneverbeeninhispossession.”
“Andyoubelievehim?”
“Yes.”
Poirotsaidthoughtfully:
“Thenfornearlytenyearsyouhavebeen,astheysayinthiscountry,barkingupthemistakentree?”
Thefinanciersaidbitterly:
“Yes,thatisexactlywhatIhavebeendoing!”
“Andnow—itisalltostartagainfromthebeginning?”
Theothernodded.
“AndthatiswhereIcomein?Iamthedogthatyousetuponthecoldscent—averycoldscent.”
EmeryPowersaiddrily:
“Iftheaffairwereeasyitwouldnothavebeennecessaryformetosendforyou.Ofcourse,ifyouthinkitimpossible—”
Hehadfoundtherightword.HerculePoirotdrewhimselfup.Hesaidcoldly:
“Idonotrecognizethewordimpossible,Monsieur!Iaskmyselfonly—isthisaffairsufficientlyinterestingformetoundertake?”
EmeryPowersmiledagain.Hesaid:
“Ithasthisinterest—youmaynameyourownfee.”
Thesmallmanlookedatthebigman.Hesaidsoftly:
“Doyouthendesirethisworkofartsomuch?Surelynot!”
EmeryPowersaid:
“PutitthatI,likeyourself,donotacceptdefeat.”
HerculePoirotbowedhishead.Hesaid:
“Yes—putthatway—Iunderstand….”
II
InspectorWagstaffewasinterested.
“TheVeratrinocup?Yes,Irememberallaboutit.Iwasinchargeofthebusinessthisend.IspeakabitofItaliano,youknow,andIwentoverandhadapowwowwiththeMacaronis.It’sneverturnedupfromthatdaytothis.Funnything,that.”
“Whatisyourexplanation?Aprivatesale?”
Wagstaffeshookhishead.
“Idoubtit.Ofcourseit’sremotelypossible…No,myexplanationisagooddealsimpler.Thestuffwascached—andtheonlymanwhoknewwhereitwasisdead.”
“YoumeanCasey?”
“Yes.HemayhavecacheditsomewhereinItaly,orhemayhavesucceededinsmugglingitoutofthecountry.Buthehiditandwhereverhehidit,thereitstillis.”
HerculePoirotsighed.
“Itisaromantictheory.Pearlsstuffedintoplastercasts—whatisthestory—theBustofNapoleon,isitnot?Butinthiscaseitisnotjewels—itisalarge,solidgoldcup.Notsoeasytohidethat,onewouldthink.”
Wagstaffesaidvaguely:
“Oh,Idon’tknow.Itcouldbedone,Isuppose.Underthefloorboards—somethingofthatkind.”
“HasCaseyahouseofhisown?”
“Yes—inLiverpool.”Hegrinned.“Itwasn’tunderthefloorboardsthere.Wemadesureofthat.”
“Whatabouthisfamily?”
“Wifewasadecentsortofwoman—tubercular.Worriedtodeathbyherhusband’swayoflife.Shewasreligious—adevoutCatholic—butcouldn’tmakeuphermindtoleavehim.Shediedacoupleofyearsago.Daughtertookafterher—shebecameanun.Thesonwasdifferent—achipofftheoldblock.LastIheardofhimhewasdoingtimeinAmerica.”
HerculePoirotwroteinhislittlenotebook.America.Hesaid:“ItispossiblethatCasey’ssonmayhaveknownthehidingplace?”
“Don’tbelievehedid.Itwouldhavecomeintothefences’handsbynow.”
“Thecupmighthavebeenmelteddown.”
“Itmight.Quitepossible,Ishouldsay.ButIdon’tknow—itssupremevalueistocollectors—andthere’salotoffunnybusinessgoesonwithcollectors—you’dbesurprised!Sometimes,”saidWagstaffevirtuously,“Ithinkcollectorshaven’tanymoralsatall.”
“Ah!WouldyoubesurprisedifSirReubenRosenthal,forinstance,wereengagedinwhatyoudescribeas‘funnybusiness?’”
Wagstaffegrinned.
“Iwouldn’tputitpasthim.He’snotsupposedtobeveryscrupulouswhereworksofartareconcerned.”
“Whatabouttheothermembersofthegang?”
“RiccovettiandDublaybothgotstiffsentences.Ishouldimaginethey’llbecomingoutaboutnow.”
“DublayisaFrenchman,ishenot?”
“Yes,hewasthebrainsofthegang.”
“Werethereothermembersofit?”
“Therewasagirl—RedKatesheusedtobecalled.Tookajobaslady’smaidandfoundoutallaboutacrib—wherestuffwaskeptandsoon.ShewenttoAustralia,Ibelieve,afterthegangbrokeup.”
“Anyoneelse?”
“ChapcalledYougouianwassuspectedofbeinginwiththem.He’sadealer.HeadquartersinStamboulbuthehasashopinParis.Nothingprovedagainsthim—buthe’saslipperycustomer.”
Poirotsighed.Helookedathislittlenotebook.Initwaswritten:America,Australia,Italy,France,Turkey…
Hemurmured:
“I’llputagirdleroundtheearth—”
“Pardon?”saidInspectorWagstaffe.
“Iwasobserving,”saidHerculePoirot,“thataworldtourseemsindicated.”
III
ItwasthehabitofHerculePoirottodiscusshiscaseswithhiscapablevalet,George.Thatistosay,HerculePoirotwouldletdropcertainobservationstowhichGeorgewouldreplywiththeworldlywisdomwhichhehadacquiredinthecourseofhiscareerasagentleman’sgentleman.
“Ifyouwerefaced,Georges,”saidPoirot,“withthenecessityofconductinginvestigationsinfivedifferentpartsoftheglobe,howwouldyousetaboutit?”
“Well,sir,airtravelisveryquick,thoughsomesayasitupsetsthestomach.Icouldn’tsaymyself.”
“Oneasksoneself,”saidHerculePoirot,“whatwouldHerculeshavedone?”
“Youmeanthebicyclechap,sir?”
“Or,”pursuedHerculePoirot,“onesimplyasks,whatdidhedo?Andtheanswer,Georges,isthathetravelledenergetically.Buthewasforcedintheendtoobtaininformation—assomesay—fromPrometheus—othersfromNereus.”
“Indeed,sir?”saidGeorge.“Ineverheardofeitherofthosegentlemen.Aretheytravelagencies,sir?”
HerculePoirot,enjoyingthesoundofhisownvoice,wenton:
“Myclient,EmeryPower,understandsonlyonething—action!Butitisuselesstodispenseenergybyunnecessaryaction.Thereisagoldenruleinlife,Georges,neverdoanythingyourselfthatotherscandoforyou.
“Especially,”addedHerculePoirot,risingandgoingtothebookshelf,“whenexpenseisnoobject!”
HetookfromtheshelfafilelabelledwiththeletterDandopeneditatthewords“DetectiveAgencies—Reliable.”
“ThemodernPrometheus,”hemurmured.“Besoobliging,Georges,astocopyoutformecertainnamesandaddresses.MessrsHankerton,NewYork.MessrsLadenandBosher,Sydney.SignorGiovanniMezzi,Rome.M.Nahum,Stamboul.MessrsRogetetFranconard,Paris.”
HepausedwhileGeorgefinishedthis.Thenhesaid:
“AndnowbesokindastolookupthetrainsforLiverpool.”
“Yes,sir,youaregoingtoLiverpool,sir?”
“Iamafraidso.Itispossible,Georges,thatImayhavetogoevenfurther.Butnotjustyet.”
IV
ItwasthreemonthslaterthatHerculePoirotstoodonarockypointandsurveyedtheAtlanticOcean.Gullsroseandswoopeddownagainwithlongmelancholycries.Theairwassoftanddamp.
HerculePoirothadthefeeling,notuncommoninthosewhocometoInishgowlenforthefirsttime,thathehadreachedtheendoftheworld.Hehadneverinhislifeimaginedanythingsoremote,sodesolate,soabandoned.Ithadbeauty,amelancholy,hauntedbeauty,thebeautyofaremoteandincrediblepast.Here,inthewestofIreland,theRomanshadnevermarched,tramp,tramp,tramp:hadneverfortifiedacamp:hadneverbuiltawell-ordered,sensible,usefulroad.Itwasalandwherecommonsenseandanorderlywayoflifewereunknown.
HerculePoirotlookeddownatthetipsofhispatent-leathershoesandsighed.Hefeltforlornandverymuchalone.Thestandardsbywhichhelivedwereherenotappreciated.
Hiseyessweptslowlyupanddownthedesolatecoastline,thenoncemoreouttosea.Somewhereoutthere,sotraditionhadit,weretheIslesoftheBlest,theLandofYouth….
Hemurmuredtohimself:
“TheAppleTree,theSingingandtheGold.”
Andsuddenly,HerculePoirotwashimselfagain—thespellwasbroken,hewasoncemoreinharmonywithhispatent-leathershoesandnatty,darkgreygent’ssuiting.
Notveryfarawayhehadheardthetollofabell.Heunderstoodthatbell.Itwasasoundhehadbeenfamiliarwithfromearlyyouth.
Hesetoffbrisklyalongthecliff.Inabouttenminuteshecameinsightofthebuildingonthecliff.Ahighwallsurroundeditandagreatwoodendoorstuddedwithnailswassetinthewall.HerculePoirotcametothisdoorandknocked.Therewasavastironknocker.Thenhecautiouslypulledatarustychainandashrilllittlebelltinkledbrisklyinsidethedoor.
Asmallpanelinthedoorwaspushedasideandshowedaface.Itwasasuspiciousface,framedinstarchedwhite.Therewasadistinctmoustacheontheupperlip,butthevoicewasthevoiceofawoman,itwasthevoiceofwhatHerculePoirotcalledafemmeformidable.
Itdemandedhisbusiness.
“IsthistheConventofSt.MaryandAllAngels?”
Theformidablewomansaidwithasperity:
“Andwhatelsewoulditbe?”
HerculePoirotdidnotattempttoanswerthat.Hesaidtothedragon:
“IwouldliketoseetheMotherSuperior.”
Thedragonwasunwilling,butintheendsheyielded.Barsweredrawnback,thedooropenedandHerculePoirotwasconductedtoasmallbareroomwherevisitorstotheConventwerereceived.
Presentlyanunglidedin,herrosaryswingingatherwaist.
HerculePoirotwasaCatholicbybirth.Heunderstoodtheatmosphereinwhichhefoundhimself.
“Iapologizefortroublingyou,mamère,”hesaid,“butyouhavehere,Ithink,areligieusewhowas,intheworld,KateCasey.”
TheMotherSuperiorbowedherhead.Shesaid:
“Thatisso.SisterMaryUrsulainreligion.”
HerculePoirotsaid:“Thereisacertainwrongthatneedsrighting.IbelievethatSisterMaryUrsulacouldhelpme.Shehasinformationthatmightbeinvaluable.”
TheMotherSuperiorshookherhead.Herfacewasplacid,hervoicecalmandremote.Shesaid:
“SisterMaryUrsulacannothelpyou.”
“ButIassureyou—”
Hebrokeoff.TheMotherSuperiorsaid:
“SisterMaryUrsuladiedtwomonthsago.”
V
InthesaloonbarofJimmyDonovan’sHotel,HerculePoirotsatuncomfortablyagainstthewall.Thehoteldidnotcomeuptohisideasofwhatahotelshouldbe.Hisbedwasbroken—soweretwoofthewindowpanesinhisroom—therebyadmittingthatnightairwhichHerculePoirotdistrustedsomuch.Thehotwaterbroughthimhadbeentepidandthemealhehadeatenwasproducingcuriousandpainfulsensationsinhisinside.
Therewerefivemeninthebarandtheywerealltalkingpolitics.ForthemostpartHerculePoirotcouldnotunderstandwhattheysaid.Inanycase,hedidnotmuchcare.
Presentlyhefoundoneofthemensittingbesidehim.Thiswasamanofslightlydifferentclasstotheothers.Hehadthestampoftheseedytownsmanuponhim.
Hesaidwithimmensedignity:
“Itellyou,sir.Itellyou—Pegeen’sPridehasn’tgotachance,notachance…boundtofinishrightdownthecourse—rightdownthecourse.Youtakemytip…everybodyoughttotakemytip.KnowwhoIam,shir,doyouknow,Ishay?Atlas,thatshwhoIam—AtlasoftheDublinSun…beentippingwinnershalltheseason…Didn’tIgiveLarry’sGirl?Twenty-fivetoone—twenty-fivetoone.FollowAtlasandyoucan’tgowrong.”
HerculePoirotregardedhimwithastrangereverence.Hesaid,andhisvoicetrembled:
“MonDieu,itisanomen!”
VI
Itwassomehourslater.Themoonshowedfromtimetotime,peepingoutcoquettishlyfrombehindtheclouds.Poirotandhisnewfriendhadwalkedsomemiles.Theformerwaslimping.Theideacrossedhismindthattherewere,afterall,othershoes—moresuitabletocountrywalkingthanpatentleather.ActuallyGeorgehadrespectfullyconveyedasmuch.“Anicepairofbrogues,”waswhatGeorgehadsaid.
HerculePoirothadnotcaredfortheidea.Helikedhisfeettolookneatandwell-shod.Butnow,trampingalongthisstonypath,herealizedthattherewereothershoes….
Hiscompanionsaidsuddenly:
“IsitthewaythePriestwouldbeaftermeforthis?I’llnothaveamortalsinuponmyconscience.”
HerculePoirotsaid:“YouareonlyrestoringtoC?sarthethingswhichareC?sar’s.”
TheyhadcometothewalloftheConvent.Atlaspreparedtodohispart.
Agroanburstfromhimandheexclaimedinlow,poignanttonesthathewasdestroyedentirely!
HerculePoirotspokewithauthority.
“Bequiet.Itisnottheweightoftheworldthatyouhavetosupport—onlytheweightofHerculePoirot.”
VII
Atlaswasturningovertwonewfivepoundnotes.
Hesaidhopefully:
“MaybeI’llnotrememberinthemorningthewayIearnedthis.I’mafterworryingthatFatherO’Reillywillbeafterme.”
“Forgeteverything,myfriend.Tomorrowtheworldisyours.”
Atlasmurmured:
“Andwhat’llIputiton?There’sWorkingLad,he’sagrandhorse,alovelyhorseheis!Andthere’sSheilaBoyne.7to1I’dgetonher.”
Hepaused:
“WasitmyfancynowordidIhearyoumentionthenameofaheathengod?Hercules,yousaid,andglorybetoGod,there’saHerculesrunninginthethree-thirtytomorrow.”
“Myfriend,”saidHerculePoirot,“putyourmoneyonthathorse.Itellyouthis,Herculescannotfail.”
AnditiscertainlytruethatonthefollowingdayMr.Rosslyn’sHerculesveryunexpectedlywontheBoynanStakes,startingprice60to1.
VIII
DeftlyHerculePoirotunwrappedtheneatlydone-upparcel.Firstthebrownpaper,thenthewadding,lastlythetissuepaper.
OnthedeskinfrontofEmeryPowerheplacedagleaminggoldencup.Chasedonitwasatreebearingapplesofgreenemeralds.
Thefinancierdrewadeepbreath.Hesaid:
“Icongratulateyou,M.Poirot.”
HerculePoirotbowed.
EmeryPowerstretchedoutahand.Hetouchedtherimofthegoblet,drawinghisfingerroundit.Hesaidinadeepvoice:
“Mine!”
HerculePoirotagreed.
“Yours!”
Theothergaveasigh.Heleanedbackinhischair.Hesaidinabusinesslikevoice:
“Wheredidyoufindit?”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Ifounditonanaltar.”
EmeryPowerstared.
Poirotwenton:
“Casey’sdaughterwasanun.Shewasabouttotakeherfinalvowsatthetimeofherfather’sdeath.Shewasanignorantbutdevoutgirl.Thecupwashiddeninherfather’shouseinLiverpool.ShetookittotheConventwanting,Ithink,toatoneforherfather’ssins.ShegaveittobeusedtothegloryofGod.Idonotthinkthatthenunsthemselveseverrealizeditsvalue.Theytookit,probably,forafamilyheirloom.Intheireyesitwasachaliceandtheyuseditassuch.”
EmeryPowersaid:
“Anextraordinarystory!”Headded:“Whatmadeyouthinkofgoingthere?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Perhaps—aprocessofelimination.Andthentherewastheextraordinaryfactthatnoonehadevertriedtodisposeofthecup.Thatlooked,yousee,asthoughitwereinaplacewhereordinarymaterialvaluesdidnotapply.IrememberedthatPatrickCasey’sdaughterwasanun.”
Powersaidheartily:
“Well,asIsaidbefore,Icongratulateyou.LetmeknowyourfeeandI’llwriteyouacheque.”
HerculePoirotsaid:
“Thereisnofee.”
Theotherstaredathim.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Didyoueverreadfairystorieswhenyouwereachild?TheKinginthemwouldsay:‘Askofmewhatyouwill?’”
“Soyouareaskingsomething?”
“Yes,butnotmoney.Merelyasimplerequest.”
“Well,whatisit?Doyouwantatipforthemarkets?”
“Thatwouldbeonlymoneyinanotherform.Myrequestismuchsimplerthanthat.”
“Whatisit?”
HerculePoirotlaidhishandsonthecup.
“SendthisbacktotheConvent.”
Therewasapause.ThenEmeryPowersaid:
“Areyouquitemad?”
HerculePoirotshookhishead.
“No,Iamnotmad.See,Iwillshowyousomething.”
Hepickedupthegoblet.Withhisfingernail,hepressedhardintotheopenjawsofthesnakethatwascoiledroundthetree.Insidethecupatinyportionofthegoldchasedinteriorslidasideleavinganapertureintothehollowhandle.
Poirotsaid:
“Yousee?ThiswasthedrinkingcupoftheBorgiaPope.Throughthislittleholethepoisonpassedintothedrink.Youhavesaidyourselfthatthehistoryofthiscupisevil.Violenceandbloodandevilpassionshaveaccompanieditspossession.Evilwillperhapscometoyouinyourturn.”
“Superstition!”
“Possibly.Butwhywereyousoanxioustopossessthisthing?Notforitsbeauty.Notforitsvalue.Youhaveahundred—athousandperhaps—beautifulandrarethings.Youwantedittosustainyourpride.Youweredeterminednottobebeaten.Ehbien,youarenotbeaten.Youwin!Thegobletisinyourpossession.Butnow,whynotmakeagreat—asupremegesture?Senditbacktowhereithasdweltinpeacefornearlytenyears.Lettheevilofitbepurifiedthere.ItbelongedtotheChurchonce—letitreturntotheChurch.Letitstandoncemoreonthealtar,purifiedandabsolvedaswehopethatthesoulsofmenshallbealsopurifiedandabsolvedfromtheirsins.”
Heleanedforward.
“LetmedescribeforyoutheplacewhereIfoundit—theGardenofPeace,lookingoutovertheWesternSeatowardsaforgottenParadiseofYouthandEternalBeauty.”
Hespokeon,describinginsimplewordstheremotecharmofInishgowlen.
EmeryPowersatback,onehandoverhiseyes.Hesaidatlast:
“IwasbornonthewestcoastofIreland.IleftthereasaboytogotoAmerica.”
Poirotsaidgently:
“Iheardthat.”
Thefinanciersatup.Hiseyeswereshrewdagain.Hesaid,andtherewasafaintsmileonhislips:
“Youareastrangeman,M.Poirot.Youshallhaveyourway.TakethegoblettotheConventasagiftinmyname.Aprettycostlygift.Thirtythousandpounds—andwhatshallIgetinexchange?”
Poirotsaidgravely:
“ThenunswillsayMassesforyoursoul.”
Therichman’ssmilewidened—arapacious,hungrysmile.Hesaid:
“So,afterall,itmaybeaninvestment!Perhaps,thebestoneIevermade….”
IX
InthelittleparlouroftheConvent,HerculePoirottoldhisstoryandrestoredthechalicetotheMotherSuperior.
Shemurmured:
“Tellhimwethankhimandwewillprayforhim.”
HerculePoirotsaidgently:
“Heneedsyourprayers.”
“Ishethenanunhappyman?”
Poirotsaid:
“Sounhappythathehasforgottenwhathappinessmeans.Sounhappythathedoesnotknowheisunhappy.”
Thenunsaidsoftly:
“Ah,arichman….”
HerculePoirotsaidnothing—forheknewtherewasnothingtosay….
Twelve
THECAPTUREOFCERBERUS
HerculePoirot,swayingtoandfrointhetubetrain,thrownnowagainstonebody,nowagainstanother,thoughttohimselfthatthereweretoomanypeopleintheworld!CertainlythereweretoomanypeopleintheUndergroundworldofLondonatthisparticularmoment(6:30p.m.)oftheevening.Heat,noise,crowd,contiguity—theunwelcomepressureofhands,arms,bodies,shoulders!Hemmedinandpressedaroundbystrangers—andonthewhole(hethoughtdistastefully)aplainanduninterestinglotofstrangers!Humanityseenthusenmassewasnotattractive.Howseldomdidoneseeafacesparklingwithintelligence,howseldomafemmebienmise!Whatwasthispassionthatattackedwomenforknittingunderthemostunpropitiousconditions?Awomandidnotlookherbestknitting;theabsorption,theglassyeyes,therestless,busyfingers!Oneneededtheagilityofawildcat,andthewill-powerofaNapoleontomanagetoknitinacrowdedtube,butwomenmanagedit!Iftheysucceededinobtainingaseat,outcameamiserablelittlestripofshrimppinkandclick,clickwentthepins!
Norepose,thoughtPoirot,nofemininegrace!Hiselderlysoulrevoltedfromthestressandhurryofthemodernworld.Alltheseyoungwomenwhosurroundedhim—soalike,sodevoidofcharm,solackinginrich,alluringfemininity!Hedemandedamoreflamboyantappeal.Ah!toseeafemmedumonde,chic,sympathetic,spirituelle—awomanwithamplecurves,awomanridiculouslyandextravagantlydressed!Oncetherehadbeensuchwomen.Butnow—now—
Thetrainstoppedatastation;peoplesurgedout,forcingPoirotbackontothepointsofknittingpins;surgedin,squeezinghimintoevenmoresardinelikeproximitywithhisfellowpassengers.Thetrainstartedoffagain,withajerk,Poirotwasthrownagainstastoutwomanwithknobblyparcels,said“Pardon!”bouncedoffagainintoalongangularmanwhoseattachécasecaughthiminthesmalloftheback.Hesaid“Pardon!”again.Hefelthismoustachesbecominglimpanduncurled.Quelenfer!Fortunatelythenextstationwashis!
Itwasalsothestationofwhatseemedtobeaboutahundredandfiftyotherpeople,sinceithappenedtobePiccadillyCircus.Likeagreattidalwavetheyflowedoutontotheplatform.PresentlyPoirotwasagainjammedtightlyonanescalatorbeingcarriedupwardstowardsthesurfaceoftheearth.
Up,thoughtPoirot,fromtheInfernalRegions…Howexquisitelypainfulwasasuitcaserammedintoone’skneesfrombehindonanascendingescalator!
Atthatmoment,avoicecriedhisname.Startled,heraisedhiseyes.Ontheoppositeescalator,theonedescending,hisunbelievingeyessawavisionfromthepast.Awomanoffullandflamboyantform;herluxurianthennaredhaircrownedwithasmallplastronofstrawtowhichwasattachedapositiveplatoonofbrilliantlyfeatheredlittlebirds.Exotic-lookingfursdrippedfromhershoulders.
Hercrimsonmouthopenedwide,herrich,foreignvoiceechoedresoundingly.Shehadgoodlungs.
“Itis!”shescreamed.“Butitis!MoncherHerculePoirot!Wemustmeetagain!Iinsist!”
ButFateitselfisnotmoreinexorablethanthebehaviouroftwoescalatorsmovinginaninversedirection.Steadily,remorselessly,HerculePoirotwasborneupward,andtheCountessVeraRossakoffwasbornedownwards.
Twistinghimselfsideways,leaningoverthebalustrade,Poirotcrieddespairingly:
“ChèreMadame—wherecanIfindyou?”
Herreplycametohimfaintlyfromthedepths.Itwasunexpected,yetseemedatthemomentstrangelyapposite.
“InHell.”
HerculePoirotblinked.Heblinkedagain.Suddenlyherockedonhisfeet.Unawareshehadreachedthetop—andhadneglectedtostepoffproperly.Thecrowdspreadoutroundhim.Alittletoonesideadensecrowdwaspressingontothedownwardescalator.Shouldhejointhem?HadthatbeentheCountess’smeaning?NodoubtthattravellinginthebowelsoftheearthattherushhourwasHell.IfthathadbeentheCountess’smeaning,hecouldnotagreewithhermore….
ResolutelyPoirotcrossedover,sandwichedhimselfintothedescendingcrowdandwasbornebackintothedepths.AtthefootoftheescalatornosignoftheCountess.Poirotwasleftwithachoiceofblue,amber,etc.lightstofollow
WastheCountesspatronizingtheBakerlooorthePiccadillyline?Poirotvisitedeachplatforminturn.Hewassweptaboutamongstsurgingcrowdsboardingorleavingtrains,butnowheredidheespytheflamboyantRussianfigure,theCountessVeraRossakoff.
Weary,battered,andinfinitelychagrined,HerculePoirotoncemoreascendedtogroundlevelandsteppedoutintothehubbubofPiccadillyCircus.Hereachedhomeinamoodofpleasurableexcitement.
Itisthemisfortuneofsmallprecisementohankerafterlargeandflamboyantwomen.PoirothadneverbeenabletoridhimselfofthefatalfascinationtheCountessheldforhim.Thoughitwassomethingliketwentyyearssincehehadseenherlastthemagicstillheld.Grantedthathermakeupnowresembledascene-painter’ssunset,withthewomanunderthemakeupwellhiddenfromsight,toHerculePoirotshestillrepresentedthesumptuousandthealluring.Thelittlebourgeoiswasstillthrilledbythearistocrat.Thememoryoftheadroitwayshestolejewelleryrousedtheoldadmiration.Herememberedthemagnificentaplombwithwhichshehadadmittedthefactwhentaxedwithit.Awomaninathousand—inamillion!Andhehadmetheragain—andlosther!
“InHell,”shehadsaid.Surelyhisearshadnotdeceivedhim?Shehadsaidthat?
Butwhathadshemeantbyit?HadshemeantLondon’sUndergroundRailways?Orwereherwordstobetakeninareligioussense?Surely,evenifherownwayoflifemadeHellthemostplausibledestinationforherafterthislife,surely—surelyherRussiancourtesywouldnotsuggestthatHerculePoirotwasnecessarilyboundforthesameplace?
No,shemusthavemeantsomethingquitedifferent.Shemusthavemeant—HerculePoirotwasbroughtupshortagainstbewilderment.Whatanintriguing,whatanunpredictablewoman!Alesserwomanmighthaveshrieked“TheRitz”or“Claridge’s.”ButVeraRossakoffhadcriedpoignantlyandimpossibly:“Hell!”
Poirotsighed.Buthewasnotdefeated.Inhisperplexityhetookthesimplestandmoststraightforwardcourseonthefollowingmorning,heaskedhissecretary,MissLemon.
MissLemonwasunbelievablyuglyandincrediblyefficient.ToherPoirotwasnobodyinparticular—hewasmerelyheremployer.Shegavehimexcellentservice.Herprivatethoughtsanddreamswereconcentratedonanewfilingsystemwhichshewasslowlyperfectingintherecessesofhermind.
“MissLemon,mayIaskyouaquestion?”
“Ofcourse,M.Poirot.”MissLemontookherfingersoffthetypewriterkeysandwaitedattentively.
“Ifafriendaskedyoutomeether—orhim—inHell,whatwouldyoudo?”
MissLemon,asusual,didnotpause.Sheknew,asthesayinggoes,alltheanswers.
“Itwouldbeadvisable,Ithink,toringupforatable,”shesaid.
HerculePoirotstaredatherinastupefiedfashion.
Hesaid,staccato,“You—would—ring—up—for—atable?”
MissLemonnoddedanddrewthetelephonetowardsher.
“Tonight?”sheasked,andtakingassentforgrantedsincehedidnotspeak,shedialledbriskly.
“TempleBar14578?IsthatHell?Willyoupleasereserveatablefortwo.M.HerculePoirot.Eleveno’clock.”
Shereplacedthereceiverandherfingershoveredoverthekeysofhertypewriter.Aslight—averyslightlookofimpatiencewasdiscernibleuponherface.Shehaddoneherpart,thelookseemedtosay,surelyheremployercouldnowleavehertogetonwithwhatshewasdoing?
ButHerculePoirotrequiredexplanations.
“Whatisit,then,thisHell?”hedemanded.
MissLemonlookedslightlysurprised.
“Ohdidn’tyouknow,M.Poirot?It’sanightclub—quitenewandverymuchtherageatpresent—runbysomeRussianwoman,Ibelieve.Icanfixupforyoutobecomeamemberbeforethiseveningquiteeasily.”
Whereupon,havingwasted(asshemadeobvious)quitetimeenough,MissLemonbrokeintoaperfectfusilladeofefficienttyping.
AteleventhateveningHerculePoirotpassedthroughadoorwayoverwhichaNeonsigndiscreetlyshowedoneletteratatime.Agentlemaninredtailsreceivedhimandtookfromhimhiscoat.
Agesturedirectedhimtoaflightofwideshallowstairsleadingdownwards.Oneachstepaphrasewaswritten.Thefirstoneran:
“Imeantwell.”
Thesecond:
“Wipetheslatecleanandstartafresh.”
Thethird:
“IcangiveitupanytimeIlike.”
“ThegoodintentionsthatpavethewaytoHell,”HerculePoirotmurmuredappreciatively.“C’estbienimaginé,?a!”
Hedescendedthestairs.Atthefootwasatankofwaterwithscarletlilies.Spanningitwasabridgeshapedlikeaboat.Poirotcrossedbyit.
OnhisleftinakindofmarblegrottosatthelargestandugliestandblackestdogPoirothadeverseen!Itsatupverystraightandgauntandimmovable.Itwasperhaps,hethought,(andhoped!)notreal.Butatthatmomentthedogturneditsferociousanduglyheadandfromthedepthsofitsblackbodyalow,rumblinggrowlwasemitted.Itwasaterrifyingsound.
AndthenPoirotnoticedadecorativebasketofsmallrounddogbiscuits.Theywerelabelled,“AsopforCerberus!”
Itwasonthemthatthedog’seyeswerefixed.Onceagainthelow,rumblinggrowlwasheard.HastilyPoirotpickedupabiscuitandtossedittowardsthegreathound.
Acavernousredmouthyawned;thencameasnapasthepowerfuljawsclosedagain.Cerberushadacceptedhissop!Poirotmovedonthroughanopendoorway.
Theroomwasnotabigone.Itwasdottedwithlittletables,aspaceofdancingfloorinthemiddle.Itwaslightedwithsmallredlamps,therewerefrescoesonthewalls,andatthefarendwasavastgrillatwhichofficiatedchefsdressedasdevilswithtailsandhorns
AllthisPoirottookinbefore,withalltheimpulsivenessofherRussiannature,CountessVeraRossakoff,resplendentinscarleteveningdress,boredownuponhimwithoutstretchedhands.
“Ah,youhavecome!Mydear—myverydearfriend!whatajoytoseeyouagain!Aftersuchyears—somany—howmany?—No,wewillnotsayhowmany!Tomeitseemsbutasyesterday.Youhavenotchanged—notintheleasthaveyouchanged!”
“Noryou,chèreamie,”Poirotexclaimed,bowingoverherhand.
Neverthelesshewasfullyconsciousnowthattwentyyearsistwentyyears.CountessRossakoffmightnotuncharitablyhavebeendescribedasaruin.Butshewasatleastaspectacularruin.Theexuberance,thefull-bloodedenjoymentoflifewasstillthere,andsheknew,nonebetter,howtoflatteraman.
ShedrewPoirotwithhertoatableatwhichtwootherpeopleweresitting.
“Myfriend,mycelebratedfriend,M.HerculePoirot,”sheannounced.“Hewhoistheterrorofevildoers!Iwasonceafraidofhimmyself,butnowIleadalifeoftheextreme,themostvirtuousdullness.Isitnotso?”
Thetallthinelderlymantowhomshespokesaid,“Neversaydull,Countess.”
“TheProfessorLiskeard,”theCountessannounced.“Hewhoknowseverythingaboutthepastandwhogavemethevaluablehintsforthedecorationshere.”
TheArch?ologistshudderedslightly.
“IfI’dknownwhatyoumeanttodo!”hemurmured.“Theresultissoappalling.”
Poirotobservedthefrescoesmoreclosely.OnthewallfacinghimOrpheusandhisjazzbandplayed,whileEurydicelookedhopefullytowardsthegrill.OntheoppositewallOsirisandIsisseemedtobethrowinganEgyptianunderworldboatingparty.OnthethirdwallsomebrightyoungpeoplewereenjoyingmixedbathinginastateofNature.
“TheCountryoftheYoung,”explainedtheCountessandaddedinthesamebreath,completingherintroductions:“AndthisismylittleAlice.”
Poirotbowedtothesecondoccupantofthetable,asevere-lookinggirlinacheckcoatandskirt.Sheworehorn-rimmedglasses.
“Sheisvery,veryclever,”saidCountessRossakoff.“Shehasadegreeandsheisapsychologistandsheknowsallthereasonswhylunaticsarelunatics!Itisnot,asyoumightthink,becausetheyaremad!No,thereareallsortsofotherreasons!Ifindthatverypeculiar.”
ThegirlcalledAlicesmiledkindlybutalittledisdainfully.SheaskedtheProfessorinafirmvoiceifhewouldliketodance.Heappearedflatteredbutdubious.
“Mydearyounglady,IfearIonlywaltz.”
“Thisisawaltz,”saidAlicepatiently.
Theygotupanddanced.Theydidnotdancewell.
TheCountessRossakoffsighed.Followingoutatrainofthoughtofherown,shemurmured,“Andyetsheisnotreallybad-looking….”
“Shedoesnotmakethemostofherself,”saidPoirotjudicially.
“Frankly,”criedtheCountess,“Icannotunderstandtheyoungpeopleofnowadays.Theydonottryanymoretoplease—always,inmyyouth,Itried—thecoloursthatsuitedme—alittlepaddinginthefrocks—thecorsetlacedtightroundthewaist—thehair,perhaps,amoreinterestingshade—”
ShepushedbacktheheavyTitiantressesfromherforehead—itwasundeniablethatshe,atleast,wasstilltryingandtryinghard!
“TobecontentwithwhatNaturehasgivenyou,that—thatisstupid!Itisalsoarrogant!ThelittleAliceshewritespagesoflongwordsaboutSex,buthowoften,Iaskyou,doesamansuggesttoherthattheyshouldgotoBrightonfortheweekend?Itisalllongwordsandwork,andthewelfareoftheworkers,andthefutureoftheworld.Itisveryworthy,butIaskyou,isitgay?Andlook,Iaskyou,howdrabtheseyoungpeoplehavemadetheworld!Itisallregulationsandprohibitions!NotsowhenIwasyoung.”
“Thatremindsme,howisyourson,Madame?”Atthelastmomenthesubstituted“son,”for“littleboy,”rememberingthattwentyyearshadpassed.
TheCountess’sfacelitupwithenthusiasticmotherhood.
“Thebelovedangel!Sobignow,suchshoulders,sohandsome!HeisinAmerica.Hebuildsthere—bridges,banks,hotels,departmentstores,railways,anythingtheAmericanswant!”
Poirotlookedslightlypuzzled.
“Heisthenanengineer?Oranarchitect?”
“Whatdoesitmatter?”demandedtheCountess.“Heisadorable!Heiswrappedupinirongirders,andmachinery,andthingscalledstresses.ThekindofthingthatIhaveneverunderstoodintheleast.Butweadoreeachother—alwaysweadoreeachother!AndsoforhissakeIadorethelittleAlice.Butyes,theyareengaged.Theymeetonaplaneoraboatoratrain,andtheyfallinlove,allinthemidstoftalkingaboutthewelfareoftheworkers.AndwhenshecomestoLondonshecomestoseemeandItakehertomyheart.”TheCountessclaspedherarmsacrosshervastbosom,“AndIsay—‘YouandNikiloveeachother—soItooloveyou—butifyoulovehimwhydoyouleavehiminAmerica?’Andshetalksabouther‘job’andthebooksheiswriting,andhercareer,andfranklyIdonotunderstand,butIhavealwayssaid:‘Onemustbetolerant.’”Sheaddedallinonebreath,“Andwhatdoyouthink,cherami,ofallthisthatIhaveimaginedhere?”
“Itisverywellimagined,”saidPoirot,lookingroundhimapprovingly.“Itischic!”
Theplacewasfullandithadaboutitthatunmistakableairofsuccesswhichcannotbecounterfeited.Therewerelanguidcouplesinfulleveningdress,Bohemiansincorduroytrousers,stoutgentlemeninbusinesssuits.Theband,dressedasdevils,dispensedhotmusic.Nodoubtaboutit,Hellhadcaughton.
“Wehaveallkindshere,”saidtheCountess.“Thatisasitshouldbe,isitnot?ThegatesofHellareopentoall?”
“Except,possibly,tothepoor?”Poirotsuggested.
TheCountesslaughed.“ArewenottoldthatitisdifficultforarichmantoentertheKingdomofHeaven?Naturally,then,heshouldhavepriorityinHell.”
TheProfessorandAlicewerereturningtothetable.TheCountessgotup.
“ImustspeaktoAristide.”
Sheexchangedsomewordswiththeheadwaiter,aleanMephistopheles,thenwentroundfromtabletotable,speakingtotheguests.
TheProfessor,wipinghisforeheadandsippingaglassofwine,remarked:
“Sheisapersonality,isshenot?Peoplefeelit.”
Heexcusedhimselfashewentovertospeaktosomeoneatanothertable.Poirot,leftalonewiththesevereAlice,feltslightlyembarrassedashemetthecoldblueofhereyes.Herecognizedthatshewasactuallyquitegood-looking,buthefoundherdistinctlyalarming.
“Idonotyetknowyourlastname,”hemurmured.
“Cunningham.Dr.AliceCunningham.YouhaveknownVerainpastdays,Iunderstand?”
“Twentyyearsagoitmustbe.”
“Ifindheraveryinterestingstudy,”saidDr.AliceCunningham.“NaturallyIaminterestedinherasthemotherofthemanIamgoingtomarry,butIaminterestedinherfromtheprofessionalstandpointaswell.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes.Iamwritingabookoncriminalpsychology.Ifindthenightlifeofthisplaceveryilluminating.Wehaveseveralcriminaltypeswhocomehereregularly.Ihavediscussedtheirearlylifewithsomeofthem.OfcourseyouknowallaboutVera’scriminaltendencies—Imeanthatshesteals?”
“Why,yes—Iknowthat,”saidPoirot,slightlytakenaback.
“IcallittheMagpiecomplexmyself.Shetakes,youknow,alwaysglitteringthings.Nevermoney.Alwaysjewels.Ifindthatasachildshewaspettedandindulgedbutverymuchshielded.Lifewasunendurablydullforher—dullandsafe.Hernaturedemandeddrama—itcravedforpunishment.Thatisattherootofherindulgenceintheft.Shewantstheimportance,thenotorietyofbeingpunished!”
Poirotobjected,“HerlifecansurelynothavebeensafeanddullasamemberoftheancienrégimeinRussiaduringtherevolution?”
AlookoffaintamusementshowedinMissCunningham’spaleblueeyes.
“Ah,”shesaid.“Amemberoftheancienrégime?Shehastoldyouthat?”
“Sheisundeniablyanaristocrat,”saidPoirotstaunchly,fightingbackcertainuneasymemoriesofthewildlyvaryingaccountsofherearlylifetoldhimbytheCountessherself.
“Onebelieveswhatonewishestobelieve,”remarkedMissCunningham,castingaprofessionaleyeonhim.
Poirotfeltalarmed.Inamoment,hefelt,hewouldbetoldwhatwashiscomplex.Hedecidedtocarrythewarintotheenemy’scamp.HeenjoyedtheCountessRossakoff’ssocietypartlybecauseofheraristocraticprovenance,andhewasnotgoingtohavehisenjoymentspoiledbyaspectacledlittlegirlwithboiledgooseberryeyesandadegreeinpsychology!
“DoyouknowwhatIfindastonishing?”heasked.
AliceCunninghamdidnotadmitinsomanywordsthatshedidnotknow.Shecontentedherselfwithlookingboredbutindulgent.
Poirotwenton:
“Itamazesmethatyou—whoareyoung,andwhocouldlookprettyifyoutookthetrouble—well,itamazesmethatyoudonottakethetrouble!Youweartheheavycoatandskirtwiththebigpocketsasthoughyouweregoingtoplaythegameofgolf.Butitisnotherethegolflinks,itistheundergroundcellarwiththetemperatureof71Fahrenheit,andyournoseitishotandshines,butyoudonotpowderit,andthelipstickyouputitonyourmouthwithoutinterest,withoutemphasizingthecurveofthelips!Youareawoman,butyoudonotdrawattentiontothefactofbeingawoman.AndIsaytoyou‘Whynot?’Itisapity!”
ForamomenthehadthesatisfactionofseeingAliceCunninghamlookhuman.Heevensawasparkofangerinhereyes.Thensheregainedherattitudeofsmilingcontempt.
“MydearM.Poirot,”shebegan,“I’mafraidyou’reoutoftouchwiththemodernideology.Itisfundamentalsthatmatter—notthetrappings.”
Shelookedupasadarkandverybeautifulyoungmancametowardsthem.
“Thisisamostinterestingtype,”shemurmuredwithzest.“PaulVaresco!Livesonwomenandhasstrangedepravedcravings!Iwanthimtotellmemoreaboutanurserygovernesswholookedafterhimwhenhewasthreeyearsold.”
Amomentortwolatershewasdancingwiththeyoungman.Hedanceddivinely.AstheydriftednearPoirot’stable,Poirotheardhersay:“AndafterthesummeratBognorshegaveyouatoycrane?Acrane—yes,that’sverysuggestive.”
ForamomentPoirotallowedhimselftotoywiththespeculationthatMissCunningham’sinterestincriminaltypesmightleadonedaytohermutilatedbodybeingfoundinalonelywood.HedidnotlikeAliceCunningham,buthewashonestenoughtorealizethatthereasonforhisdislikewasthefactthatshewassopalpablyunimpressedbyHerculePoirot!Hisvanitysuffered!
ThenhesawsomethingthatmomentarilyputAliceCunninghamoutofhishead.Atatableontheoppositesideofthefloorsatafair-hairedyoungman.Heworeeveningdress,hiswholedemeanourwasthatofonewholivesalifeofeaseandpleasure.Oppositehimsattherightkindofexpensivegirl.Hewasgazingatherinafatuousandfoolishmanner.Anyoneseeingthemmighthavemurmured:“Theidlerich!”NeverthelessPoirotknewverywellthattheyoungmanwasneitherrichnoridle.Hewas,infact,DetectiveInspectorCharlesStevens,anditseemedprobabletoPoirotthatDetectiveInspectorCharlesStevenswashereonbusiness….
II
OnthefollowingmorningPoirotpaidavisittoScotlandYardtohisoldfriendChiefInspectorJapp.
Japp’sreceptionofhistentativeinquirieswasunexpected.
“Youoldfox!”saidJappaffectionately.“Howyougetontothesethingsbeatsme!”
“ButIassureyouIknownothing—nothingatall!Itisjustidlecuriosity.”
JappsaidthatPoirotcouldtellthattotheMarines!
“YouwanttoknowallaboutthisplaceHell?Well,onthesurfaceit’sjustanotherofthesethings.It’scaughton!Theymustbemakingalotofmoney,thoughofcoursetheexpensesareprettyhigh.There’saRussianwomanostensiblyrunningit,callsherselftheCountessSomethingorother—”
“IamacquaintedwithCountessRossakoff,”saidPoirotcoldly.“Weareoldfriends.”
“Butshe’sjustadummy,”Jappwenton.“Shedidn’tputupthemoney.Itmightbetheheadwaiterchap,AristidePapopolous—he’sgotaninterestinit—butwedon’tbelieveit’sreallyhisshoweither.Infactwedon’tknowwhoseshowitis!”
“AndInspectorStevensgoestheretofindout?”
“Oh,yousawStevens,didyou?Luckyyoungdoglandingajoblikethatatthetaxpayer’sexpense!Afatlothe’sfoundoutsofar!”
“Whatdoyoususpectthereistofindout?”
“Dope!Drugracketonalargescale.Andthedope’sbeingpaidfornotinmoney,butinpreciousstones.”
“Aha?”
“Thisishowitgoes.LadyBlank—ortheCountessofWhatnot—findsithardtogetholdofcash—andinanycasedoesn’twanttodrawlargesumsoutoftheBank.Butshe’sgotjewels—familyheirloomssometimes!They’retakenalongtoaplacefor‘cleaning’or‘resetting’—therethestonesaretakenoutoftheirsettingsandreplacedwithpaste.TheunsetstonesaresoldoverhereorontheContinent.It’sallplainsailing—there’sbeennorobbery,nohueandcryafterthem.Saysoonerorlaterit’sdiscoveredthatacertaintiaraornecklaceisafake?LadyBlankisallinnocenceanddismay—can’timaginehoworwhenthesubstitutioncanhavetakenplace—necklacehasneverbeenoutofherpossession!Sendsthepoor,perspiringpoliceoffonwild-goosechasesafterdismissedmaids,ordoubtfulbutlers,orsuspiciouswindow-cleaners.
“Butwe’renotquitesodumbasthesesocialbirdsthink!Wehadseveralcasescomeuponeafteranother—andwefoundacommonfactor—allthewomenshowedsignsofdope—nerves,irritability—twitching,pupilsofeyesdilated,etcetera.Questionwas:Whereweretheygettingthedopefromandwhowasrunningtheracket?”
“Andtheanswer,youthink,isthisplaceHell?”
“Webelieveit’stheheadquartersofthewholeracket.We’vediscoveredwheretheworkonthejewelleryisdone—aplacecalledGolcondaLtd—respectableenoughonthesurface,high-classimitationjewellery.There’sanastybitofworkcalledPaulVaresco—ah,Iseeyouknowhim?”
“Ihaveseenhim—inHell.”
“That’swhereI’dliketoseehim—intherealplace!He’sasbadastheymake’em—butwomen—evendecentwomen—eatoutofhishand!He’sgotsomekindofconnectionwithGolcondaLtdandI’mprettysurehe’sthemanbehindHell.It’sidealforhispurpose—everyonegoesthere,societywomen,professionalcrooks—it’stheperfectmeetingplace.”
“Youthinktheexchange—jewelsfordope—takesplacethere?”
“Yes.WeknowtheGolcondasideofit—wewanttheother—thedopeside.Wewanttoknowwho’ssupplyingthestuffandwhereit’scomingfrom.”
“Andsofaryouhavenoidea?”
“Ithinkit’stheRussianwoman—butwe’venoevidence.Afewweeksagowethoughtweweregettingsomewhere.VarescowenttotheGolcondaplace,pickedupsomestonesthereandwentstraightfromtheretoHell.Stevenswaswatchinghim,buthedidn’tactuallyseehimpassthestuff.WhenVarescoleftwepickedhimup—thestonesweren’tonhim.Weraidedtheclub,roundedupeverybody!Result,nostones,nodope!”
“Afiasco,infact?”
Jappwinced.“You’retellingme!Mighthavegotinabitofajam,butluckilyintheroundupwegotPeverel(youknow,theBatterseamurderer).Pureluck,hewassupposedtohavegotawaytoScotland.Oneofoursmartsergeantsspottedhimfromhisphotos.Soall’swellthatendswell—kudosforus—terrificboostfortheclub—it’sbeenmorepackedthaneversince!”
Poirotsaid:
“Butitdoesnotadvancethedopeinquiry.Thereis,perhaps,aplaceofconcealmentonthepremises?”
“Mustbe.Butwecouldn’tfindit.Wentovertheplacewithatoothcomb.Andbetweenyouandme,there’sbeenanunofficialsearchaswell—”hewinked.“StrictlyontheQ.T.Spotofbreakingandentering.Notasuccess,our‘unofficial’mannearlygottorntopiecesbythatruddygreatdog!Itsleepsonthepremises.”
“Aha,Cerberus?”
“Yes.Sillynameforadog—tocallitafterapacketofsalt.”
“Cerberus,”murmuredPoirotthoughtfully.
“Supposeyoutryyourhandatit,Poirot,”suggestedJapp.“It’saprettyproblemandworthdoing.Ihatethedrugracket,destroyspeoplebodyandsoul.ThatreallyisHellifyoulike!”
Poirotmurmuredmeditatively:“Itwouldroundoffthings—yes.DoyouknowwhatthetwelfthLaborofHerculeswas?”
“Noidea.”
“TheCaptureofCerberus.Itisappropriate,isitnot?”
“Don’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout,oldman,butremember:‘DogeatsMan’isnews.”AndJappleanedbackroaringwithlaughter.
III
“Iwishtospeaktoyouwiththeutmostseriousness,”saidPoirot.
Thehourwasearly,theClubasyetnearlyempty.TheCountessandPoirotsatatasmalltablenearthedoorway.
“ButIdonotfeelserious,”sheprotested.“LapetiteAlice,sheisalwaysseriousand,entrenous,Ifinditveryboring.MypoorNiki,whatfunwillhehave?None.”
“Ientertainforyoumuchaffection,”continuedPoirotsteadily.“AndIdonotwanttoseeyouinwhatiscalledthejam.”
“Butitisabsurdwhatyousaythere!Iamontopoftheworld,themoneyitrollsin!”
“Youownthisplace?”
TheCountess’seyebecameslightlyevasive.
“Certainly,”shereplied.
“Butyouhaveapartner?”
“Whotoldyouthat?”askedtheCountesssharply.
“IsyourpartnerPaulVaresco?”
“Oh!PaulVaresco!Whatanidea!”
“Hehasabad—acriminalrecord.Doyourealizethatyouhavecriminalsfrequentingthisplace?”
TheCountessburstoutlaughing.
“Therespeaksthebonbourgeois!NaturallyIrealize!Doyounotseethatthatishalftheattractionofthisplace?TheseyoungpeoplefromMayfair—theygettiredofseeingtheirownkindroundthemintheWestEnd.Theycomehere,theyseethecriminals;thethief,theblackmailer,theconfidencetrickster—perhaps,even,themurderer—themanwhowillbeintheSundaypapersnextweek!Itisexciting,that—theythinktheyareseeinglife!Sodoestheprosperousmanwhoalltheweeksellstheknickers,thestockings,thecorsets!Whatachangefromhisrespectablelifeandhisrespectablefriends!Andthen,afurtherthrill—thereatatable,strokinghismoustache,istheInspectorfromScotlandYard—anInspectorintails!”
“Soyouknewthat?”saidPoirotsoftly.
Hereyesmethisandshesmiled.
“Moncherami,Iamnotsosimpleasyouseemtosuppose!”
“Doyoualsodealindrugshere?”
“Ah,?ano!”TheCountessspokesharply.“Thatwouldbeanabomination!”
Poirotlookedatherforamomentortwo,thenhesighed.
“Ibelieveyou,”hesaid.“Butinthatcaseitisallthemorenecessarythatyoutellmewhoreallyownsthisplace.”
“Iownit,”shesnapped.
“Onpaper,yes.Butthereissomeonebehindyou.”
“Doyouknow,monami,Ifindyoualtogethertoocurious?Ishenotmuchtoocurious,Doudou?”
Hervoicedroppedtoacooasshespokethelastwordsandshethrewtheduckbonefromherplatetothebigblackhoundwhocaughtitwithaferocioussnapofthejaws.
“Whatisitthatyoucallthatanimal,”askedPoirot,diverted.
“C’estmonpetitDoudou!”
“Butitisridiculous,anamelikethat!”
“Butheisadorable!Heisapolicedog!Hecandoanything—anything—Wait!”
Sherose,lookedroundher,andsuddenlysnatchedupaplatewithalargesucculentsteakwhichhadjustbeendepositedbeforeadineratanearbytable.Shecrossedtothemarblenicheandputtheplatedowninfrontofthedog,atthesametimeutteringafewwordsinRussian.
Cerberusgazedinfrontofhim.Thesteakmightnothaveexisted.
“Yousee?Anditisnotjustamatterofminutes!No,hewillremainlikethatforhoursifneedbe!”
ThenshemurmuredawordandlikelightningCerberusbenthislongneckandthesteakdisappearedasthoughbymagic.
VeraRossakoffflungherarmsroundthedog’sneckandembracedhimpassionately,risingontiptoetodoso.
“Seehowgentlehecanbe!”shecried.“Forme,forAlice,forhisfriends—theycandowhattheylike!ButonehasbuttogivehimthewordandPresto!Icanassureyouhewouldteara—policeinspector,forinstance—intolittlepieces!Yes,intolittlepieces!”
Sheburstoutlaughing.
“Iwouldhavebuttosaytheword—”
Poirotinterruptedhastily.HemistrustedtheCountess’ssenseofhumour.InspectorStevensmightbeinrealdanger.
“ProfessorLiskeardwantstospeaktoyou.”
Theprofessorwasstandingreproachfullyatherelbow.
“Youtookmysteak,”hecomplained.“Whydidyoutakemysteak?Itwasagoodsteak!”
IV
“Thursdaynight,oldman,”saidJapp.“That’swhentheballoongoesup.It’sAndrews’pigeon,ofcourse—NarcoticSquad—buthe’llbedelightedtohaveyouhornin.No,thanks,Iwon’thaveanyofyourfancysirops.Ihavetotakecareofmystomach.IsthatwhiskyIseeoverthere?That’smoretheticket!”
Settinghisglassdown,hewenton:
“We’vesolvedtheproblem,Ithink.There’sanotherwayoutattheClub—andwe’vefoundit!”
“Where?”
“Behindthegrill.Partofitswingsround.”
“Butsurelyyouwouldsee—”
“No,oldboy.Whentheraidstarted,thelightswentout—switchedoffatthemain—andittookusaminuteortwotogetthemturnedonagain.Nobodygotoutthefrontwaybecauseitwasbeingwatched,butit’sclearnowthatsomebodycouldhavenippedoutbythesecretwaywiththedoings.We’vebeenexaminingthehousebehindtheClub—andthat’showwetumbledtothetrick.”
“Andyouproposetodo—what?”
Jappwinked.
“Letitgoaccordingtoplan—thepoliceappear,thelightsgoout—andsomebody’swaitingontheothersideofthatsecretdoortoseewhocomesthrough.Thistimewe’vegot’em!”
“WhyThursday?”
AgainJappwinked.
“We’vegottheGolcondaprettywelltapednow.TherewillbestuffgoingoutofthereonThursday.LadyCarrington’semeralds.”
“Youpermit,”saidPoirot,“thatItoomakeoneortwolittlearrangements?”
V
SittingathisusualsmalltableneartheentranceonThursdaynightPoirotstudiedhissurroundings.AsusualHellwasgoingwithaswing!
TheCountesswasevenmoreflamboyantlymadeupthanusualifthatwaspossible.ShewasbeingveryRussiantonight,clappingherhandsandscreamingwithlaughter.PaulVarescohadarrived.Sometimesheworefaultlesseveningdress,sometimes,astonight,hechosetopresenthimselfinakindofapachegetup,tightly-buttonedcoat,scarfroundtheneck.Helookedviciousandattractive.Detachinghimselffromastout,middle-agedwomanplasteredwithdiamonds,heleanedoverAliceCunninghamwhowassittingatatablewritingbusilyinalittlenotebookandaskedhertodance.ThestoutwomanscowledatAliceandlookedatVarescowithadoringeyes.
TherewasnoadorationinMissCunningham’seyes.Theygleamedwithpurescientificinterest,andPoirotcaughtfragmentsoftheirconversationastheydancedpasthim.ShehadprogressedbeyondthenurserygovernessandwasnowseekinginformationaboutthematronatPaul’spreparatoryschool.
Whenthemusicstopped,shesatdownbyPoirotlookinghappyandexcited.
“Mostinteresting,”shesaid.“Varescowillbeoneofthemostimportantcasesinmybook.Thesymbolismisunmistakable.Troubleaboutthevestsforinstance—forvestreadhairshirtwithallitsassociations—andthewholethingbecomesquiteplain.Youmaysaythathe’sadefinitelycriminaltypebutacurecanbeeffected—”
“Thatshecanreformarake,”saidPoirot,“hasalwaysbeenoneofwoman’sdearestillusions!”
AliceCunninghamlookedathimcoldly.
“Thereisnothingpersonalaboutthis,M.Poirot.”
“Thereneveris,”saidPoirot.“Itisalwayspuredisinterestedaltruism—buttheobjectofitisusuallyanattractivememberoftheoppositesex.Areyouinterested,forinstance,inwhereIwenttoschool,orwhatwastheattitudeofthematrontome?”
“Youarenotacriminaltype,”saidMissCunningham.
“Doyouknowacriminaltypewhenyouseeone?”
“CertainlyIdo.”
ProfessorLiskeardjoinedthem.HesatdownbyPoirot.
“Areyoutalkingaboutcriminals?YoushouldstudythecriminalcodeofHammurabi,M.Poirot.1800b.c.mostinteresting.Themanwhoiscaughtstealingduringafireshallbethrownintothefire.”
Hestaredpleasurablyaheadofhimtowardstheelectricgrill.
“Andthereareolder,Summerianlaws.Ifawifehatethherhusbandandsaithuntohim,‘Thouartnotmyhusband,’theyshallthrowherintotheriver.Cheaperandeasierthanthedivorcecourt.Butifahusbandsaysthattohiswifeheonlyhastopayheracertainmeasureofsilver.Nobodythrowshimintheriver.”
“Thesameoldstory,”saidAliceCunningham.“Onelawforthemanandoneforthewoman.”
“Women,ofcourse,haveagreaterappreciationofmonetaryvalue,”saidtheProfessorthoughtfully.“Youknow,”headded,“Ilikethisplace.Icomeheremostevenings.Idon’thavetopay.TheCountessarrangedthat—veryniceofher—inconsiderationofmyhavingadvisedheraboutthedecorations,shesays.Notthatthey’reanythingtodowithmereally—I’dnoideawhatshewasaskingmequestionsfor—andnaturallysheandtheartisthavegoteverythingquitewrong.IhopenobodywilleverknowIhadtheremotestconnectionwiththedreadfulthings.Ishouldneverliveitdown.Butshe’sawonderfulwoman—ratherlikeaBabylonian,Ialwaysthink.TheBabyloniansweregoodwomenofbusiness,youknow—”
TheProfessor’swordsweredrownedinasuddenchorus.Theword“Police”washeard—womenrosetotheirfeet,therewasababelofsound.Thelightswentoutandsodidtheelectricgrill.
AsanundertonetotheturmoiltheProfessor’svoicewentontranquillyrecitingvariousexcerptsfromthelawsofHammurabi.
WhenthelightswentonagainHerculePoirotwashalfwayupthewide,shallowsteps.Thepoliceofficersbythedoorsalutedhim,andhepassedoutintothestreetandstrolledtothecorner.Justroundthecorner,pressedagainstthewallwasasmallandodoriferousmanwitharednose.Hespokeinananxious,huskywhisper.
“I’m’ere,guv’nor.Timeformetodomystuff?”
“Yes.Goon.”
“There’sanawfullotofcoppersabout!”
“Thatisallright.They’vebeentoldaboutyou.”
“I’opetheywon’tinterfere,that’sall?”
“Theywillnotinterfere.You’resureyoucanaccomplishwhatyouhavesetouttodo?Theanimalinquestionisbothlargeandfierce.”
“’Ewon’tbefiercetome,”saidthelittlemanconfidently.“NotwithwhatI’vegot’ere!Anydog’llfollowmetoHellforit!”
“Inthiscase,”murmuredHerculePoirot,“hehastofollowyououtofHell!”
VI
Inthesmallhoursofthemorningthetelephonerang.Poirotpickedupthereceiver.
Japp’svoicesaid:
“Youaskedmetoringyou.”
“Yes,indeed.Ehbien?”
“Nodope—wegottheemeralds.”
“Where?”
“InProfessorLiskeard’spocket.”
“ProfessorLiskeard?”
“Surprisesyou,too?FranklyIdon’tknowwhattothink!Helookedasastonishedasababy,staredatthem,saidhehadn’tthefaintestideahowtheygotinhispocket,anddammitIbelievehewasspeakingthetruth!Varescocouldhaveslippedthemintohispocketeasilyenoughintheblackout.Ican’tseeamanlikeoldLiskeardbeingmixedupinthissortofbusiness.Hebelongstoallthesehigh-falutin’societies,whyhe’sevenconnectedwiththeBritishMuseum!Theonlythingheeverspendsmoneyonisbooks,andmustyoldsecondhandbooksatthat.No,hedoesn’tfit.I’mbeginningtothinkwe’rewrongaboutthewholething—thereneverhasbeenanydopeinthatClub.”
“Oh,yestherehas,myfriend,itwastheretonight.Tellme,didnoonecomeoutthroughyoursecretway?”
“Yes,PrinceHenryofScandenbergandhisequerry—heonlyarrivedinEnglandyesterday.VitamianEvans,theCabinetMinister(devilofajobbeingaLaborMinister,youhavetobesocareful!NobodymindsaTorypoliticianspendingmoneyonriotouslivingbecausethetaxpayersthinkit’shisownmoney—butwhenit’saLabormanthepublicfeelit’stheirmoneyhe’sspending!Andsoitisinamannerofspeaking.)LadyBeatriceVinerwasthelast—she’sgettingmarriedthedayaftertomorrowtothepriggishyoungDukeofLeominster.Idon’tbelieveanyofthatlotweremixedupinthis.”
“Youbelieverightly.Nevertheless,thedopewasintheClubandsomeonetookitoutoftheClub.”
“Whodid?”
“Idid,monami,”saidPoirotsoftly.
Hereplacedthereceiver,cuttingoffJapp’ssplutteringnoises,asabelltrilledout.Hewentandopenedthefrontdoor.TheCountessRossakoffsailedin
“Ifitwerenotthatweare,alas,tooold,howcompromisingthiswouldbe!”sheexclaimed.“Yousee,Ihavecomeasyoutoldmetodoinyournote.Thereis,Ithink,apolicemanbehindme,buthecanstayinthestreet.Andnow,myfriend,whatisit?”
Poirotgallantlyrelievedherofherfoxfurs.
“WhydidyouputthoseemeraldsinProfessorLiskeard’spocket?”hedemanded.“Cen’estpasgentille,cequevousavezfaitlà!”
TheCountess’seyesopenedwide.
“Naturally,itwasinyourpocketImeanttoputtheemeralds!”
“Oh,inmypocket?”
“Certainly.Icrosshurriedlytothetablewhereyouusuallysit—butthelightstheyareoutandIsupposebyinadvertenceIputthemintheProfessor’spocket.”
“Andwhydidyouwishtoputstolenemeraldsinmypocket?”
“Itseemedtome—Ihadtothinkquickly,youunderstand—thebestthingtodo!”
“Really,Vera,youareimpayable!”
“But,dearfriend,consider!Thepolicearrive,thelightsgoout(ourlittleprivatearrangementforthepatronswhomustnotbeembarrassed)andahandtakesmybagoffthetable.Isnatchitback,butIfeelthroughthevelvetsomethinghardinside.Islipmyhandin,IfindwhatIknowbytouchtobejewelsandIcomprehendatoncewhohasputthemthere!”
“Ohyoudo?”
“OfcourseIdo!Itisthatsalaud!Itisthatlizard,thatmonster,thatdouble-faced,double-crossing,squirmingadderofapig’sson,PaulVaresco.”
“ThemanwhoisyourpartnerinHell?”
“Yes,yes,itishewhoownstheplace,whoputsupthemoney.UntilnowIdonotbetrayhim—Icankeepfaith,me!Butnowthathedouble-crossesme,thathetriestoembroilmewiththepolice—ah!nowIwillspithisnameout—yes,spititout!”
“Calmyourself,”saidPoirot,“andcomewithmeintothenextroom.”
Heopenedthedoor.ItwasasmallroomandseemedforamomenttobecompletelyfilledwithDOG.CerberushadlookedoutsizeeveninthespaciouspremisesofHell.InthetinydiningroomofPoirot’sserviceflatthereseemednothingelsebutCerberusintheroom.Therewasalso,however,thesmallandodoriferousman.
“We’veturneduphereaccordingtoplan,guv’nor,”saidthelittlemaninahuskyvoice.
“Doudou!”screamedtheCountess.“MyangelDoudou!”
Cerberusbeatthefloorwithhistail—buthedidnotmove.
“LetmeintroduceyoutoMr.WilliamHiggs,”shoutedPoirot,abovethethunderofCerberus’stail.“Amasterinhisprofession.Duringthebrouhahatonight,”wentonPoirot,“Mr.HiggsinducedCerberustofollowhimupoutofHell.”
“Youinducedhim?”TheCountessstaredincredulouslyatthesmallratlikefigure.“Buthow?How?”
Mr.Higgsdroppedhiseyesbashfully.
“’Ardlyliketosayaforealady.Butthere’sthingsnodogswon’tresist.FollowmeanywhereadogwillifIwant’imto.Ofcourseyouunderstanditwon’tworkthesamewaywithbitches—no,that’sdifferent,thatis.”
TheCountessRossakoffturnedonPoirot
“Butwhy?Why?”
Poirotsaidslowly:
“Adogtrainedforthepurposewillcarryanarticleinhismouthuntilheiscommandedtolooseit.Hewillcarryitifneedsbeforhours.Willyounowtellyourdogtodropwhatheholds?”
VeraRossakoffstared,turned,andutteredtwocrispwords.
ThegreatjawsofCerberusopened.Then,itwasreallyalarming,Cerberus’stongueseemedtodropoutofhismouth
Poirotsteppedforward.Hepickedupasmallpackageencasedinpink,spongebagrubber.Heunwrappedit.Insideitwasapacketofwhitepowder.
“Whatisit?”theCountessdemandedsharply.
Poirotsaidsoftly:
“Cocaine.Suchasmallquantity,itwouldseem—butenoughtobeworththousandsofpoundstothosewillingtopayforit…Enoughtobringruinandmiserytoseveralhundredpeople….”
Shecaughtherbreath.Shecriedout:
“AndyouthinkthatI—butitisnotso!Isweartoyouitisnotso!InthepastIhaveamusedmyselfwiththejewels,thebibelots,thelittlecuriosities—itallhelpsonetolive,youunderstand.AndwhatIfeelis,whynot?Whyshouldonepersonownathingmorethananother?”
“JustwhatIfeelaboutdogs,”Mr.Higgschimedin.
“Youhavenosenseofrightorwrong,”saidPoirotsadlytotheCountess.
Shewenton:
“Butdrugs—thatno!Forthereonecausesmisery,pain,degeneration!Ihadnoidea—nofaintestidea—thatmysocharming,soinnocent,sodelightfullittleHellwasbeingusedforthatpurpose!”
“Iagreewithyouaboutdope,”saidMr.Higgs.“Dopingofgreyhounds—that’sdirty,thatis!Iwouldn’tneverhavenothingtodowithanythinglikethat,andInever’ave’ad!”
“Butyousayyoubelieveme,myfriend,”imploredtheCountess.
“ButofcourseIbelieveyou!HaveInottakentimeandtroubletoconvicttherealorganizerofthedoperacket.HaveInotperformedthetwelfthLaborofHerculesandbroughtCerberusupfromHelltoprovemycase?ForItellyouthis,Idonotliketoseemyfriendsframed—yes,framed—foritwasyouwhowereintendedtotaketherapifthingswentwrong!Itwasinyourhandbagtheemeraldswouldhavebeenfoundandifanyonehadbeencleverenough(likeme)tosuspectahidingplaceinthemouthofasavagedog—ehbien,heisyourdog,ishenot?EvenifhehasacceptedlapetiteAlicetothepointofobeyingherordersalso!Yes,youmaywellopenyoureyes!FromthefirstIdidnotlikethatyoungladywithherscientificjargonandhercoatandskirtwiththebigpockets.Yes,pockets.Unnaturalthatanywomanshouldbesodisdainfulofherappearance!Andwhatdoesshesaytome—thatitisfundamentalsthatcount!Aha!whatisfundamentalispockets.Pocketsinwhichshecancarrydrugsandtakeawayjewels—alittleexchangeeasilymadewhilstsheisdancingwithheraccomplicewhomshepretendstoregardasapsychologicalcase.Ah,butwhatacover!Noonesuspectstheearnest,thescientificpsychologistwithamedicaldegreeandspectacles.Shecansmuggleindrugs,andinduceherrichpatientstoformthehabit,andputupthemoneyforanightclubandarrangethatitshallberunbysomeonewith—shallwesay,alittleweaknessinherpast!ButshedespisesHerculePoirot,shethinksshecandeceivehimwithhertalkofnurserygovernessesandvests!Ehbien,Iamreadyforher.Thelightsgooff.QuicklyIrisefrommytableandgotostandbyCerberus.InthedarknessIhearhercome.Sheopenshismouthandforcesinthepackage,andI—delicately,unfeltbyher,Isnipwithatinypairofscissorsalittlepiecefromhersleeve.”
Dramaticallyheproducedasliverofmaterial.
“Youobserve—theidenticalcheckedtweed—andIwillgiveittoJapptofititbackwhereitbelongs—andmakethearrest—andsayhowcleveroncemorehasbeenScotlandYard.”
TheCountessRossakoffstaredathiminstupefaction.Suddenlysheletoutawaillikeafoghorn.
“ButmyNiki—myNiki.Thiswillbeterribleforhim—”Shepaused.“Ordoyouthinknot?”
“TherearealotofothergirlsinAmerica,”saidHerculePoirot.
“Andbutforyouhismotherwouldbeinprison—inprison—withherhaircutoff—sittinginacell—andsmellingofdisinfectant!Ah,butyouarewonderful—wonderful.”
SurgingforwardsheclaspedPoirotinherarmsandembracedhimwithSlavonicfervour.Mr.Higgslookedonappreciatively.ThedogCerberusbeathistailuponthefloor.
Intothemidstofthissceneofrejoicingcamethetrillofabell.
“Japp!”exclaimedPoirot,disengaginghimselffromtheCountess’sarms.
“Itwouldbebetter,perhaps,ifIwentintotheotherroom,”saidtheCountess.
Sheslippedthroughtheconnectingdoor.Poirotstartedtowardsthedoortothehall.
“Guv’nor,”wheezedMr.Higgsanxiously,“betterlookatyourselfintheglass,’adn’tyou?”
Poirotdidsoandrecoiled.Lipstickandmascaraornamentedhisfaceinafantasticmedley.
“Ifthat’sMr.JappfromScotlandYard,’e’dthinktheworst—sureto,”saidMr.Higgs.
Headded,asthebellpealedagain,andPoirotstrovefeverishlytoremovecrimsongreasefromthepointsofhismoustache:“Whatdoyerwantmetodo—’ookittoo?Whataboutthis’ere’Ell’Ound?”
“IfIrememberrightly,”saidHerculePoirot,“CerberusreturnedtoHell.”
“Justasyoulike,”saidMr.Higgs.“AsamatteroffactI’vetakenakindoffancyto’im…Still,’e’snotthekindI’dliketopinch—notpermanent—toonoticeable,ifyouknowwhatImean.Andthinkwhathe’dcostmeinshinofbeefor’orseflesh!Eatsasmuchasayounglion,Iexpect.”
“FromtheNemeanLiontotheCaptureofCerberus,”murmuredPoirot.“Itiscomplete.”
VII
AweeklaterMissLemonbroughtabilltoheremployer.
“Excuseme,M.Poirot.Isitinorderformetopaythis?Leonora,Florist.RedRoses.Elevenpounds,eightshillingsandsixpence.SenttoCountessVeraRossakoff,Hell,13EndSt,WC1.”
Asthehueofredroses,sowerethecheeksofHerculePoirot.Heblushed,blushedtotheeyeballs.
“Perfectlyinorder,MissLemon.Alittle—er,tribute—to—toanoccasion.TheCountess’ssonhasjustbecomeengagedinAmerica—tothedaughterofhisemployer,asteelmagnate.Redrosesare—Iseemtoremember,herfavouriteflower.”
“Quite,”saidMissLemon.“They’reveryexpensivethistimeofyear.”
HerculePoirotdrewhimselfup.
“Therearemoments,”hesaid,“whenonedoesnoteconomize.”
Hummingalittletune,hewentoutofthedoor.Hisstepwaslight,almostsprightly.MissLemonstaredafterhim.Herfilingsystemwasforgotten.Allherfeminineinstinctswerearoused.
“Goodgracious,”shemurmured.“Iwonder…Really—athisage!…Surelynot….”
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
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