Agatha Christie - Hickory Dickory Dock

"That's a very nice way of putting it, Mr. Poirot.

That's exactly what they have been. Inspector Sharpe finished questioning all the students yesterday, and then he came back with a search warrant today and I've got Mrs. Nicoletis on my-hands with raving hysterics." Poirot clucked his tongue sympathetically.

Then he said, "It is just a little question I have to ask. You sent me a list of those things that had disappeared-and other queer happenings-what I have to ask is this, did you write that list in chronological order?"

"You mean?"

"I mean, were the things written down exactly in the order of their disappearance?"

"No, they weren't. I'm sorry-I just put them down as I thought of them. I'm sorry if I've misled you."

"I should have asked you before," said Poirot. "But it did not strike me then as important. I have your list here. It begins, one evening shoe, bracelet, powder compact, diamond ring, cigarette lighter, stethoscope, and so on. But you say that that was not the order of disappearance?"

"No."

"Can you remember now, or would it be too difficult for you, what was the proper order?"

"Well, I'm not sure if I could now, Mr. Poirot. You see it's all some time ago. I should have to think it out. Actually, after I had talked with my sister and knew I was coming to see you, I made a list, and I should say that I put it down in the order of the things as I remembered them. I mean, the evening shoe because it was so peculiar, and then the bracelet and the powder compact and the cigarette lighter and the diamond ring because comthey were all rather important things and looked as though we had a genuine thief at work, and then I remembered the other more unimportant things later and added them. I mean the boracic and the electric light bulbs and the rucksack. They weren't really important and I only really thought of them as a kind of afterthought."

"I see," said Poirot. "Yes, I see... Now what I would ask of you, Madame, is to sit down now, when you have the leisure, that is..."

"I daresay when I've got Mrs. Nicoletis to bed with a sedative and calmed down Geronimo and Maria, I shall have a little time. What is it you want me to do?"

"Sit down and try to put down, as nearly as you can, the chronological order in which the various incidents occurred."

"Certainly, Mr. Poirot. The rucksack, I believe, was the first and the electric light bulbs- I really didn't think had any connection with the other things comand then the bracelet and the compact, no-the evening shoe. But there, you don't want to hear me speculate about it. I'll put them down as best I can."

"Thank you, Madame. I shall be much obliged to you." Poirot hung up the phone.

"I am vexed with myself," he said to Miss Lemon. "I have departed from the principles of order and method. I should have made quite sure from the start, the exact order in which these thefts occurred."

"Dear, dear," said Miss Lemon, mechanically. "Are you going to finish these letters now, Mr. Poirot?" But once again Poirot waved her impatiently away.

On arrival back at Hickory Road with a search warrant on Saturday morning, Inspector Sharpe had demanded an interview with Mrs. Nicoletis who always came on Saturday to do accounts with Mrs. Hubbard. He had explained what he was about to do.

Mrs. Nicoletis prggytested with vigour.

"But it is an insult, that!- My students they will leave-they will all leave. I shall be ruined…"

"No, no, Madam. I'm sure they wt be sensible. After all, this is a case of murder."

"It is not murder-it is suicide."

"And I'm sure once I've explained, no one will object…" Mrs. Hubbard put in a soothing word.

"I'm sure," she said, "everyone will be sensible except," she added thoughtfully, "perhaps Mr. Ahmed Ali and Mr. Chandra Lal."

"Pah!" said Mrs. Nicoletis. "Who cares about them?"

"Thank you, Madam," said the Inspector.

"Then I'll make a start here, in your sitting room." An immediate and violent protest came from Mrs. Nicoletis at the suggestion.

"You search where you please," she said, "but here, no! I refuse."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Nicoletis, but I have to go through the house from top to bottom."

"That is right, but not in my room. I am above the law."

"No one's above the law. I'm afraid I shall have to ask you to stand aside."

"It is an outrage," Mrs. Nicoletis screamed with fury. "You are officious busybodies. I will write to everyone. I will write to my Member of Parliament. I will write to the papers."

"Write to anyone you please, Madam," said Inspector Sharpe, "I'm going to search this room." He started straight away upon the bureau. A large carton of confectionery, a mass of papers, and a large variety of assorted junk rewarded his search.

He moved from there to a cupboard in the corner of the room. "This is locked. Can I have the key, please?"

"Never!" screamed Mrs. Nicoletis. "Never, never, never shall you have the key! Beast and pig of a policeman, I spit at you. I spit! I spit! I spit!"

"You might just as well give me the key," said Inspector Sharpe. "If not, I shall simply prise the door open."

"I will not give you the key! You will have to tear my clothes off me before you get the key! And that that will be a scandal."

"Get a chisel, Cobb," said Inspector Sharpe resignedly.

Mrs. Nicoletis uttered a scream of fury.

Inspector Sharpe paid no attention. The chisel was brought. Two sharp cracks and the door of the cupboard came open. As it swung forward, a large consignment of empty brandy bottles poured out of the cupboard.

"Beast! Pig! Devil!" screamed Mrs. Nicoletis.

"Thank you, Madam," said the Inspector politely. "We've finished in here." Mrs. Hubbard tactfully replaced the bottles while Mrs. Nicoletis had hysterics.

One mystery, the mystery of Mrs. Nicoletis's tempers, was now cleared up.

Poirot's telephone call came through just as Mrs. Hubbard was pouring out an appropriate dose of sedative from the private medicine cupboard in her sitting room. After replacing the receiver she went back to Mrs. Nicoletis whom she had left screaming and kicking her heels on the sofa in her sitting room. "Now you drink this," said Mrs. Hubbard. "And you'll feel better."

"Gestapo!" said Mrs. Nicoletis who was now quiet but sullen.

"I shouldn't think any more about it If I were you," saiggf Mrs. Hubbard soothingly.

"Gestapo!" said Mrs. Nicoletis again. "Gestapo! That is what they are!"

"They have to do their duty, you know," said Mrs. Hubbard.

"Is it their duty to pry into my private cupboards? I say to them, 'That is not for you.' I lock it. I put the key down my bosom. If you had not been there as a witness they would have torn my clothes off me without shame."

"Oh no, I don't think they would have done that," said Mrs. Hubbard.

"That is what you say! Instead they get a chisel and they force my door. That is structural damage to the house for which I shall be responsible."

"Well, you see, if you wouldn't give them the key…"

"Why should I give them the key? It was my key. My private key. And this is my private room. My private room and I say to the police, 'Keep out" and they do not keep out."

"Well, after all, Mrs. Nicoletis, there has been a murder, remember. And after a murder one has to put up with certain things which might not be very pleasant at ordinary times."

"I spit upon the murder!" said Mrs. Nicoletis. "That little Celia she commits suicide. She has a silly love affair and she takes poison. It is the sort of thing that is always happening. They are so stupid about love, these girls-as though love mattered! One year, two years and it is all finished, the grand passion!

The man is the same as any other man! But the silly girls they do not know that. They take the sleeping draught and the disinfectant and they turn on gas taps and then it is too late."