Agatha Christie - Hercule Poirot's Casebook

Leonie twinkled an unabashed eye at him.

'Eh bien,' she demanded, 'after all, what is a kiss?'

'What, indeed?' said Poirot gallantly.

'You see, the young gentleman he .came up behind me and caught me round the waist - and so naturally he startled me and I screamed. If I had known - well, then naturally I would not have screamed.'

'Naturally,' agreed Poirot.

'But he came upon me like a cat. Then the study door opened and out came M. le secrtaire and the young gentleman slipped away upstairs and there I was looking like a fool. Naturally I had to say something - especially to -' she broke into French, 'un jeune homme comme fa, tellement conime il faut!'

'So you invent a ghost?'

'Indeed, monsieur, it was all I could think of. A tall figure all in white, that floated. It is ridiculous but what else could I do?'

'Nothing. So now, all is explained. I had my suspicions from the first.'

Leonie shot him a provocative glance.

'Monsieur is very clever, and very sympathetic.'

'And since I am not going to make you any embarrassments over the affair you will do some thing for me in return?'

'Most willingly, monsieur.'

'How much do you know of your mistress's affairs?'

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

'Not very much, monsieur. I have my ideas, of course.'

'And those ideas?'

'Well, it does not escape me that the friends of madame are always soldiers or sailors or airmen. And then there are other friends - foreign gentlemen who come to see her very quietly sometimes. Madame is very handsome, though I do not think she will be so much longer. The young men, they fred her very attractive. Sometimes I think, they say too much. But it is only my idea, that. Madame does not confide in me.'

'What you would have me to understand is that madame plays a lone hand?'

'That is right, monsieur.'

'In other words, you cannot help me.'

'I fear not, monsieur. I would do if I could.'

'Tell me, your mistress is in a good mood today?

'Decidedly, monsieur.'

'Something has happened to please her?'

'She has been in good spirits ever since she came here.'

'Well, Leonie, you should know.'

The girl answered confidently:

'Yes, monsieur. I could-not be mistaken there. I know all madame's moods. She is in high spirits.'

'Positively triumphant?'

'That is exactly the word, monsieur.'

Poirot nodded gloomily.

'I pounds d that - a little hard to bear. Yet I perceive that it is inevitable. Thank you, mademoiselle, that is all.'

Leonie threw him a coquettish glance.

'Thank you, monsieur. If I meet monsieur on the stairs, be well assured that I shall not scream.'

'My child,' said Poirot with dignity. 'I am of advanced years.

What have I to do with such frivolities?'

But with a little twitter of laughter, Loonie took herself off.

Poirot paced slowly up and down the room. His face became grave and anxious.

'And now,' he said at last, 'for Lady Julia. What will she say, I wonder?'

Lady Julia came into the room with a quiet air of assurance.

She bent her head graciously, accepted the chair that Poirot drew forward and spoke in a low, well-bred voice.

'Lord Mayfield says that you wish to ask me some questions.'

'Yes, madame. It is about last night.'

'About last night, yes?'.

'What happened after you had finished your game of bridge?'

'My husband thought it was too late to begin another. I went up to bed.'

'And then?'

'I went to sleep.'

'That is all?'

'Yes. I'm afraid I can't tell you anything of much interest.

When did this' - she hesitated - 'burglary occur?'

'Very soon after you went upstairs.'

'I see. And what exactly was taken?'

'Some private papers, madame.'

'Important papers?'

'Very important.'

She frowned a little and then said:

'They were - valuable?'

'Yes, madame, they were worth a good deal of money.'

'I see.'

There was a pause, and then Poirot said:

'What about your book, madame?'

'My book?' She raised bewildered eyes to him.

'Yes, I understand Mrs Vanderlyn to say that some time after you three ladies had retired you went down again to fetch a book.'

'Yes, of course, so I did.'

'So that, as a matter of fact, you did not go straight to bed when you went upstairs? You returned to the drawing-room?'

'Yes, that is true. I had forgotten.'

'While you were in the drawing-room, did you hear someone scream?'

'No - yes - I don't think so.'

'Surely, madame. You could not have failed to hear it in the drawing-room.'

Lady Julia flung her head back and said £uxnly:

'I heard nothing.'

Poirot raised his eyebrows, but did not reply.

The silence grew uncomfortable. Lady Julia asked abruptly:

'What is being done?'

'Being done? I do not understand you, madame.'

'I mean about the robbery. Surely the police must be doing something.'

Poirot shook his head.

'The police have not been called in. I am in charge.'

She stared at him, her restless haggard face sharpened and tense. Her eyes, dark and searching, sought to pierce his impassivity.

They fell at last - defeated.

'You cannot tell me what is being done?'

'I can only assure you, madame, that I am leaving no stone unturned.'

'To catch the thief- or to - recover the papers?'

'The recovery of the papers is the main thing, madame.'

Her manner changed. It became bored, listless.

'Yes,' she said indifferently. 'I suppose it is.'

There was another pause.

'Is there anything else, M. Poirot?'

'No, madame. I will not detain you further.'

'Thank you.'

He opened the door for her. She passed out without glancing at him.

Poirot went back to the fireplace and carefully rearnmged the ornaments on the mantelpiece. He was still at it when Lord Mayfield came in through the window.

'Well?' said the latter.

'Very well, I think. Events are shaping themselves as they should.'

Lord Mayfield said, staring at him:

'You are pleased.'

'No, I am not pleased. But I am content.'

'Really, M. Poirot, I cannot make you out.'

'I am not such a charlatan as you think.'

'I never said '

'No, but you thought! No matter. I am not offended. It is sometimes necessary for me to adopt a certain pose.'

Lord Mayfield looked at him doubtfully with a certain amount of distrust. Hercule Poirot was a man he did not understand. He wanted to despise him, but something warned him that this ridiculous little man was not so futile as he appeared. Charles McLaughlin had always been able to recognize capability when he saw it.

'Well,' he said, 'we are in your hands. What do you advise next?'

'Can you get rid of your guests?'

'I think it might be arranged... I could explain that I have to go to London over this affair. They will then probably offer to leave.'

'Very good. Try and arrange it like that.'

Lord Mayfield hesitated.

'You don't think ?'

'I am quite sure that that would be the wise course to take.'

Lord Mayfield shrugged his shoulders.

'Well, if you say so.'

He went out.

The guests left after lunch. Mrs Vanderlyn and Mrs Macatta went by train, the Carringtons had their car. Poirot was standing in the hall as Mrs Vanderlyn bade her host a charming farewell.

'So terribly sorry for you having this bother and anxiety. I do I hope it will mm out all fight for you. I shan't breathe a word of anything.'

She pressed his hand and went out to where the Rolls was waiting to take her to the station. Mrs Macatta was already inside. Her adieu had been curt and unsympathetic.

Suddenly Leonie, who had been getting in front with the chauffeur, came running back into the hall.