Poirot's Early Cases: 18 Hercule Poirot Mysteries

  ‘M. Poirot?’ said Mr Halliday. ‘I guess I don’t need to tell you what I want you for. You’ve read the papers, and I’m never one to let the grass grow under my feet. I happened to hear you were in London, and I remembered the good work you did over those bombs. Never forget a name. I’ve the pick of Scotland Yard, but I’ll have my own man as well. Money no object. All the dollars were made for my little girl—and now she’s gone, I’ll spend my last cent to catch the damned scoundrel that did it! See? So it’s up to you to deliver the goods.’

  Poirot bowed.

  ‘I accept, monsieur, all the more willingly that I saw your daughter in Paris several times. And now I will ask you to tell me the circumstances of her journey to Plymouth and any other details that seem to you to bear upon the case.’

  ‘Well, to begin with,’ responded Halliday, ‘she wasn’t going to Plymouth. She was going to join a house-party at Avonmead Court, the Duchess of Swansea’s place. She left London by the twelve-fourteen from Paddington, arriving at Bristol (where she had to change) at two-fifty. The principal Plymouth expresses, of course, run via Westbury, and do not go near Bristol at all. The twelve-fourteen does a non-stop run to Bristol, afterwards stopping at Weston, Taunton, Exeter and Newton Abbot. My daughter travelled alone in her carriage, which was reserved as far as Bristol, her maid being in a third class carriage in the next coach.’

  Poirot nodded, and Mr Halliday went on: ‘The party at Avonmead Court was to be a very gay one, with several balls, and in consequence my daughter had with her nearly all her jewels—amounting in value, perhaps, to about a hundred thousand dollars.’

  ‘Un moment,’ interrupted Poirot. ‘Who had charge of the jewels? Your daughter, or the maid?’

  ‘My daughter always took charge of them herself, carrying them in a small blue morocco case.’

  ‘Continue, monsieur.’

  ‘At Bristol the maid, Jane Mason, collected her mistress’s dressing-bag and wraps, which were with her, and came to the door of Flossie’s compartment. To her intense surprise, my daughter told her that she was not getting out at Bristol, but was going on farther. She directed Mason to get out the luggage and put it in the cloakroom. She could have tea in the refreshment-room, but she was to wait at the station for her mistress, who would return to Bristol by an up-train in the course of the afternoon. The maid, although very much astonished, did as she was told. She put the luggage in the cloakroom and had some tea. But up-train after up-train came in, and her mistress did not appear. After the arrival of the last train, she left the luggage where it was, and went to a hotel near the station for the night. This morning she read of the tragedy, and returned to town by the first available train.’

  ‘Is there nothing to account for your daughter’s sudden change of plan?’

  ‘Well there is this: According to Jane Mason, at Bristol, Flossie was no longer alone in her carriage. There was a man in it who stood looking out of the farther window so that she could not see his face.’

  ‘The train was a corridor one, of course?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Which side was the corridor?’

  ‘On the platform side. My daughter was standing in the corridor as she talked to Mason.’

  ‘And there is no doubt in your mind—excuse me!’ He got up, and carefully straightened the ink-stand which was a little askew. ‘Je vous demande pardon,’ he continued, re-seating himself. ‘It affects my nerves to see anything crooked. Strange, is it not? I was saying, monsieur, that there is no doubt in your mind as to this probably unexpected meeting being the cause of your daughter’s sudden change of plan?’

  ‘It seems the only reasonable supposition.’

  ‘You have no idea as to who the gentleman in question might be?’

  The millionaire hesitated for a moment, and then replied: ‘No—I do not know at all.’

  ‘Now—as to the discovery of the body?’

  ‘It was discovered by a young naval officer who at once gave the alarm. There was a doctor on the train. He examined the body. She had been first chloroformed, and then stabbed. He gave it as his opinion that she had been dead about four hours, so it must have been done not long after leaving Bristol—probably between there and Weston, possibly between Weston and Taunton.’

  ‘And the jewel-case?’

  ‘The jewel-case, M. Poirot, was missing.’

  ‘One thing more, monsieur. Your daughter’s fortune—to whom does it pass at her death?’

  ‘Flossie made a will soon after her marriage, leaving everything to her husband.’ He hesitated for a minute, and then went on: ‘I may as well tell you, Monsieur Poirot, that I regard my son-in-law as an unprincipled scoundrel, and that, by my advice, my daughter was on the eve of freeing herself from him by legal means—no difficult matter. I settled her money upon her in such a way that he could not touch it during her lifetime, but although they have lived entirely apart for some years, she had frequently acceded to his demands for money, rather than face an open scandal. However, I was determined to put an end to this. At last Flossie agreed, and my lawyers were instructed to take proceedings.’

  ‘And where is Monsieur Carrington?’

  ‘In town. I believe he was away in the country yesterday, but he returned last night.’

  Poirot considered a little while. Then he said: ‘I think that is all, monsieur.’

  ‘You would like to see the maid, Jane Mason?’

  ‘If you please.’

  Halliday rang the bell, and gave a short order to the footman.

  A few minutes later Jane Mason entered the room, a respectable, hard-featured woman, as emotionless in the face of tragedy as only a good servant can be.

  ‘You will permit me to put a few questions? Your mistress, she was quite as usual before starting yesterday morning? Not excited or flurried?’

  ‘Oh no, sir!’

  ‘But at Bristol she was quite different?’

  ‘Yes, sir, regular upset—so nervous she didn’t seem to know what she was saying.’

  ‘What did she say exactly?’

  ‘Well, sir, as near as I can remember, she said: “Mason, I’ve got to alter my plans. Something has happened—I mean, I’m not getting out here after all. I must go on. Get out the luggage and put it in the cloakroom; then have some tea, and wait for me in the station.”

  ‘ “Wait for you here, ma’am?” I asked.

  ‘ “Yes, yes. Don’t leave the station. I shall return by a later train. I don’t know when. It mayn’t be until quite late.”

  ‘ “Very well, ma’am,” I says. It wasn’t my place to ask questions, but I thought it very strange.’

  ‘It was unlike your mistress, eh?’

  ‘Very unlike her, sir.’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Well, sir, I thought it was to do with the gentleman in the carriage. She didn’t speak to him, but she turned round once or twice as though to ask him if she was doing right.’

  ‘But you didn’t see the gentleman’s face?’

  ‘No, sir; he stood with his back to me all the time.’

  ‘Can you describe him at all?’

  ‘He had on a light fawn overcoat, and a travelling-cap. He was tall and slender, like and the back of his head was dark.’

  ‘You didn’t know him?’

  ‘Oh no, I don’t think so, sir.’

  ‘It was not your master, Mr Carrington, by any chance?’

  Mason looked rather startled.

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so, sir!’

  ‘But you are not sure?’

  ‘It was about the master’s build, sir—but I never thought of it being him. We so seldom saw him…I couldn’t say it wasn’t him!’

  Poirot picked up a pin from the carpet, and frowned at it severely; then he continued: ‘Would it be possible for the man to have entered the train at Bristol before you reached the carriage?’

  Mason considered.

  ‘Yes, sir, I think it would. My compartment was very crowded, a
nd it was some minutes before I could get out—and then there was a very large crowd on the platform, and that delayed me too. But he’d only have had a minute or two to speak to the mistress, that way. I took it for granted that he’d come along the corridor.’

  ‘That is more probable, certainly.’

  He paused, still frowning.

  ‘You know how the mistress was dressed, sir?’

  ‘The papers give a few details, but I would like you to confirm them.’

  ‘She was wearing a white fox fur toque, sir, with a white spotted veil, and a blue frieze coat and skirt—the shade of blue they call electric.’

  ‘H’m, rather striking.’

  ‘Yes,’ remarked Mr Halliday. ‘Inspector Japp is in hopes that that may help us to fix the spot where the crime took place. Anyone who saw her would remember her.’

  ‘Précisément!—Thank you, mademoiselle.’

  The maid left the room.

  ‘Well!’ Poirot got up briskly. ‘That is all I can do here—except, monsieur, that I would ask you to tell me everything, but everything!’

  ‘I have done so.’

  ‘You are sure?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Then there is nothing more to be said. I must decline the case.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you have not been frank with me.’

  ‘I assure you—’

  ‘No, you are keeping something back.’

  There was a moment’s pause, and then Halliday drew a paper from his pocket and handed it to my friend.

  ‘I guess that’s what you’re after, Monsieur Poirot—though how you know about it fairly gets my goat!’

  Poirot smiled, and unfolded the paper. It was a letter written in thin sloping handwriting. Poirot read it aloud.

  ‘Chère Madame,

  It is with infinite pleasure that I look forward to the felicity of meeting you again. After your so amiable reply to my letter, I can hardly restrain my impatience. I have never forgotten those days in Paris. It is most cruel that you should be leaving London tomorrow. However, before very long, and perhaps sooner than you think, I shall have the joy of beholding once more the lady whose image has ever reigned supreme in my heart.

  Believe, chère madame, all the assurances of my most devoted and unaltered sentiments—

  Armand de la Rochefour.’

  Poirot handed the letter back to Halliday with a bow.

  ‘I fancy, monsieur, that you did not know that your daughter intended renewing her acquaintance with the Count de la Rochefour?’

  ‘It came as a thunderbolt to me! I found this letter in my daughter’s handbag. As you probably know, Monsieur Poirot, this so-called count is an adventurer of the worst type.’

  Poirot nodded.

  ‘But I want to know how you knew of the existence of this letter?’

  My friend smiled. ‘Monsieur, I did not. But to track footmarks and recognize cigarette-ash is not sufficient for a detective. He must also be a good psychologist! I knew that you disliked and mistrusted your son-in-law. He benefits by your daughter’s death; the maid’s description of the mysterious man bears a sufficient resemblance to him. Yet you are not keen on his track! Why? Surely because your suspicions lie in another direction. Therefore you were keeping something back.’

  ‘You’re right, Monsieur Poirot. I was sure of Rupert’s guilt until I found this letter. It unsettled me horribly.’

  ‘Yes. The Count says “Before very long, and perhaps sooner than you think.” Obviously he would not want to wait until you should get wind of his reappearance. Was it he who travelled down from London by the twelve-fourteen, and came along the corridor to your daughter’s compartment? The Count de la Rochefour is also, if I remember rightly, tall and dark!’

  The millionaire nodded.

  ‘Well, monsieur, I will wish you good day. Scotland Yard has, I presume, a list of the jewels?’

  ‘Yes, I believe Inspector Japp is here now if you would like to see him.’

  IV

  Japp was an old friend of ours, and greeted Poirot with a sort of affectionate contempt.

  ‘And how are you, monsieur? No bad feeling between us, though we have got our different ways of looking at things. How are the “little grey cells”, eh? Going strong?’

  Poirot beamed upon him. ‘They function, my good Japp; assuredly they do!’

  ‘Then that’s all right. Think it was the Honourable Rupert, or a crook? We’re keeping an eye on all the regular places, of course. We shall know if the shiners are disposed of, and of course whoever did it isn’t going to keep them to admire their sparkle. Not likely! I’m trying to find out where Rupert Carrington was yesterday. Seems a bit of a mystery about it. I’ve got a man watching him.’

  ‘A great precaution, but perhaps a day late,’ suggested Poirot gently.

  ‘You always will have your joke, Monsieur Poirot. Well, I’m off to Paddington. Bristol, Weston, Taunton, that’s my beat. So long.’

  ‘You will come round and see me this evening, and tell me the result?’

  ‘Sure thing, if I’m back.’

  ‘The good inspector believes in matter in motion,’ murmured Poirot as our friend departed. ‘He travels; he measures footprints; he collects mud and cigarette-ash! He is extremely busy! He is zealous beyond words! And if I mentioned psychology to him, do you know what he would do, my friend? He would smile! He would say to himself: “Poor old Poirot! He ages! He grows senile!” Japp is the “younger generation knocking on the door.” And ma foi! They are so busy knocking that they do not notice that the door is open!’

  ‘And what are you going to do?’

  ‘As we have carte blanche, I shall expend threepence in ringing up the Ritz—where you may have noticed our Count is staying. After that, as my feet are a little damp, and I have sneezed twice, I shall return to my rooms and make myself a tisane over the spirit lamp!’

  V

  I did not see Poirot again until the following morning. I found him placidly finishing his breakfast.

  ‘Well?’ I inquired eagerly. ‘What has happened?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘But Japp?’

  ‘I have not seen him.’

  ‘The Count?’

  ‘He left the Ritz the day before yesterday.’

  ‘The day of the murder?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then that settles it! Rupert Carrington is cleared.’

  ‘Because the Count de la Rochefour has left the Ritz? You go too fast, my friend.’

  ‘Anyway, he must be followed, arrested! But what could be his motive?’

  ‘One hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewellery is a very good motive for anyone. No, the question to my mind is: why kill her? Why not simply steal the jewels? She would not prosecute.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because she is a woman, mon ami. She once loved this man. Therefore she would suffer her loss in silence. And the Count, who is an extremely good psychologist where women are concerned—hence his successes—would know that perfectly well! On the other hand, if Rupert Carrington killed her, why take the jewels which would incriminate him fatally?’

  ‘As a blind.’

  ‘Perhaps you are right, my friend. Ah, here is Japp! I recognize his knock.’

  The inspector was beaming good-humouredly.

  ‘Morning, Poirot. Only just got back. I’ve done some good work! And you?’

  ‘Me, I have arranged my ideas,’ replied Poirot placidly.

  Japp laughed heartily.

  ‘Old chap’s getting on in years,’ he observed beneath his breath to me. ‘That won’t do for us young folk,’ he said aloud.

  ‘Quel dommage?’ Poirot inquired.

  ‘Well, do you want to hear what I’ve done?’

  ‘You permit me to make a guess? You have found the knife with which the crime was committed, by the side of the line between Weston and Taunton, and you have interviewed the paper-boy who spoke to Mrs Carrington
at Weston!’

  Japp’s jaw fell. ‘How on earth did you know? Don’t tell me it was those almighty “little grey cells” of yours!’

  ‘I am glad you admit for once that they are all mighty! Tell me, did she give the paper-boy a shilling for himself?’

  ‘No, it was half a crown!’ Japp had recovered his temper, and grinned. ‘Pretty extravagant, these rich Americans!’

  ‘And in consequence the boy did not forget her?’

  ‘Not he. Half-crowns don’t come his way every day. She hailed him and bought two magazines. One had a picture of a girl in blue on the cover. “That’ll match me,” she said. Oh, he remembered her perfectly. Well, that was enough for me. By the doctor’s evidence, the crime must have been committed before Taunton. I guessed they’d throw the knife away at once, and I walked down the line looking for it; and sure enough, there it was. I made inquiries at Taunton about our man, but of course it’s a big station, and it wasn’t likely they’d notice him. He probably got back to London by a later train.’

  Poirot nodded. ‘Very likely.’

  ‘But I found another bit of news when I got back. They’re passing the jewels, all right! That large emerald was pawned last night—by one of the regular lot. Who do you think it was?’

  ‘I don’t know—except that he was a short man.’

  Japp stared. ‘Well, you’re right there. He’s short enough. It was Red Narky.’

  ‘Who is Red Narky?’ I asked.

  ‘A particularly sharp jewel-thief, sir. And not one to stick at murder. Usually works with a woman—Gracie Kidd; but she doesn’t seem to be in it this time—unless she’s got off to Holland with the rest of the swag.’

  ‘You’ve arrested Narky?’

  ‘Sure thing. But mind you, it’s the other man we want—the man who went down with Mrs Carrington in the train. He was the one who planned the job, right enough. But Narky won’t squeal on a pal.’

  I noticed Poirot’s eyes had become very green.

  ‘I think,’ he said gently, ‘that I can find Narky’s pal for you, all right.’

  ‘One of your little ideas, eh?’ Japp eyed Poirot sharply. ‘Wonderful how you manage to deliver the goods sometimes, at your age and all. Devil’s own luck, of course.’