Poirot Investigates - Agatha Christie - 3

Disc three the kidnapped Prime Minister. Now that war and the problems of war
are things of the past, I think I may safely venture to reveal to
the world the part which my friend Puirot played in a moment of national crisis.
The secret has been well guarded, not a whisper of it reached the
press. But now that the need for secrecy has gone by, I feel
it is only just that England should know the debtitoes to my quaint little friend,
whose marvelous brain so ably averted a great catastrophe. One evening after dinner.
I will not particularize the date. It suffices to say that it was
at the time when peace by negotiation was the parrot cry of England's enemies.
My friend and I were sitting in his rooms. After being invalid out of
the army. I had been given a recruiting job, and it had become
my custom to drop in on puiro in the evenings after dinner and talk with
him of any cases of interest that he might have had on hand. I
was attempting to discuss with him the sensational news of the day, no less
than the attempted assassination of mister David McCadam, England's Prime Minister. The account
in the newspapers had evidently been carefully censored. No details were given, save
that the Prime Minister had had a marvelous escape, the bullet just grazing his
cheek. I considered that our police must have been shamefully careless for such an
outrage to be possible. I could well understand that the German agents in England
would be willing to risk much for such an achievement. Fighting Mack, as
his own party had nicknamed him, had strenuously and unequivocally combated the pacifist influence
which was becoming so prevalent. He was more than England's Prime Minister. He
was England, and to have removed him from his fear of influence would have
been a crushing and paralyzing blow to Britain. Puio was busy mopping a gray
suit with a minute sponge. Never was there a dande such as Hercule Poiro.
Neatness and order were his passion. Now, with the odor of benzine
filling the air, he was quite unable to give me his full attention.
In a little minute. I am with you, my friend, I have
all but finished the spot of grease. He is not good. I remove
him, so he waved his sponge. I smiled as I lit another cigarette.
Anything interesting on, I inquired after a minute or two. Ah,
I assister, how do you call it? A charlady to find her husband
a difficult affair, needing the tact For I have a little idea that when
he is found, he will not be pleased. What would you For my
part, I sympathize with him. He was a man of discrimination to lose
himself, I laughed. Ah, at last, the spot of grease he
is gone. I am at your disposal. Well, I was asking you
what you thought of this attempt to assassinate Macadam at Fontiage, replied Quaro promptly.
One can hardly take it seriously to fire with the rifle. Never does
it succeed. It is a device from the past. While it was very
near succeeding this time, I reminded him. Quaro shook his head impatiently.
He was about to reply when the landlady thrust her head round the door and
informed him that there were two gentlemen below who wanted to see him. They
won't give their names, sir, but they says, as it's very important,
let them mount, said Quaro, carefully folding his gray trousers. In
a few minutes, the two visitors were ushered in, and my heart gave
a leap. As in the foremost I recognized no less a personage than Lord
Estaire, leader of the House of Commons, whilst his companion, mister Bernard
Dodge, was also a member of the War Cabinet, and as I knew,
a close personal friend of the Prime Minister, Monsieur Poirot, said Lord
Astair interrogatively. My friend bowed. The great man, looked at me and
hesitated, U, my business is private. Oh you may speak freely before
Captain Hastings, said my friend, nodding to me to remain. He has
not all the gifts, no, but I answer for his discretion. Lord
Astair still hesitated, But mister Dodge broke in abruptly. Oh come on,
then, let's beat about the bush. As far as I can see.
The whole of England will know the whole we're in soon enough times everything pray
be seated, Monsieur said Puio politely, Will you take the big chair,
milone? Lord a Stair started slightly. You know me Quarro smiled suddenly,
I read the little papers with their pictures. How should they not know you?
Well, Monsieur Quarro, I've come to consult you upon a matter of
the most vital urgency. I must ask for absolute Secretsy, you have the
word of Hercutequao, I can say no more, said my friend grandiloquently.
When it concerns the Prime Minister. We are in grave trouble. Hah,
We're up a tree, interposed, mister Dodge. But the injury is serious.
Then I asked, what injury but the bullet wound. Ah, That
cried mister Dodge contemptuously. That's old history. Well, as my colleague says,
continued Lord Astaire, that affair is over and done with. Luckily it
failed. I wish I could say as much for the second attempt. Ah,
there has been a second attempt then, yes, though not of the
same nature. Monsieur Pouarro, the Prime Minister has disappeared. What m he
has been kidnapped? Impossible? I cried, stupefied. Quiro threw a withering
glance at me, which I knew, enjoined me to keep my mouth shut.
Now Unfortunately impossible, as it seems, it is only too true,
continued his lordship Quire looked at mister Darge. You said, just now,
monsieur, the time was everything. What did you mean by that? The
two men exchanged glances, and then Lord Astaire said, you have heard,
mister Puiro, of the approaching Allied conference. My friend nodded. For obvious
reasons, no details have been given of when and where it is to take
place, but although it has been kept out of the newspapers, the date
is of course widely known in diplomatic circles. The conference is to be held
to morrow Thursday evening at Versailles. Now you perceive the terrible gravity of the
situation. I will not conceal from you that the Prime Minister's presence at the
conference is a vital necessity. The pacifist propaganda, started and maintained by the
German agents in our midst has been very active. It is the universal opinion
that the turning point of the conference will be the strong personality of the Prime
Minister. His absence may have the most serious results, possibly a premature and
disastrous peace, and we have no one who can be sent in his place.
He alone can represent England. Fire's face had grown very grave. Then
you regard the kidnapping of the Prime Minister as a direct attempt to prevent his
being present as a conference, Most certainly I do. He was actually on
his way to France at the time, and the conference is to be held
at nine o'clock to morrow night. Fire drew an enormous watch from his pocket.
It is now a quarter to nine, Yes, twenty four hours,
said mister Dodge, thoughtfully, un and a quarter amended Poirot, do not
forget the quarter, monsieur, It may come in useful now for the details
the abduction. Did it take place in England or in France? In France,
mister Macadam crossed to France this morning. He was to stay to night
as the guest of the Commander in Chief, proceeding to morrow to Paris.
He was conveyed across the channel by destroyer. At Boulogne he was met by
a car from General Headquarters and one of the Commander in Chief's eighty sis Ibier.
Well, they started from Boulogne, but they never arrived. What,
Monsieur puaro It was a bogus car and a bogus a d C. The
real car was found in a side road with the chauffeur and the A d
C neatly gagged and bound, and the bogus car is still at large.
Puirot made a gesture of impatience. Incredible, surely it cannot discape attention for
long one so we thought it seemed merely a question of searching thoroughly. That
part of France is under military law. We were convinced that the car could
not go long unnoticed. The French police and our own Scotland yard men and
the military are straining every nerve. It is, as you say, incredible,
but nothing has been discovered. At that moment, a tap came at
the door, and a young officer entered with a heavily sealed envelope which he
handed to Lord Astare. I just threw from Franz and I brought it on
here as you directed. The Minister tore it open eagerly and uttered an exclamation.
The officer withdrew, ah, here is news. At last, this
telegram has just been decoded. They have found the second calm. Also,
the Secretary Daniels chloroformed, gagged and bound in a and farm near We can't
mention the name here now He remembers nothing except something being pressed against his mouth
and knows from behind and struggling to free himself. The police are satisfied as
to the genuineness of his statement, and they have found nothing else. No,
not the Prime Minister's dead bunny. Then there is hope. But it
is strange. Why after trying to shoot him this morning, are they now
taking so much trouble to keep him alive? Dodge shook his head. Oh,
one thing's quite certain. They determined at all costs to prevent his attending
the conference. If it is humanly possible, the Prime Minister shall be there.
God grant it is not too late now, monsieur. You are count
to me everything from the beginning. I must know about the shooting affair as
well. Last night the Prime Minister accompanied by one of his circuit there is
Captain Daniels. Are the same who accompanied him to Franz Yes well, as
I was saying, they motored down to Windsor, where the Prime Minister was
granted an audience. Early this morning he returned to town and it was on
the way that the attempted assassination took place. One moment, if you please,
who is this captain Daniels. You have his dossier, Lord Estaire smiled,
hmm, I thought you would ask me that we do not know very
much about him. He is of no particular family. He has served in
the English Army and is an extremely able secretary, being an exceptionally fine linguist.
I believe he speaks seven languages. It is for that reason that the
Prime Minister chose him to accompany him to France. Has he any relatives in
England? Two ants, missus Everard, who lives at Hampstead, and of
Miss Daniels, who lives near Ascot Ascot, that he is near to Windsor
is it not? Yes, well, the point has not been overlooked,
but it has led to nothing. You are aguard that Captain dani Nils.
Then, as above suspicion. A shade of bitterness crept into Lord Astair's voice
as he replied, no, Monsieur Poirot, in these days, I should
hesitate before I pronounced any one above suspicion. Three PM. Now I understand
Milon that the Prime Minister would, as a matter of course, be under
vigilant police protection, which ought to render any assault upon him an impossibility.
Lord Astair bowed his head. That is so. The Prime Minister's car was
closely followed by another car containing detectives in plain clothes. Mister McAdam knew nothing
of these precautions. He is personally a most fearless man and would be inclined
to sweep them away arbitrarily. But naturally the police make their own arrangements.
In fact, the Premier's chauffeur, Oh Murphy, is a C I D
man, Oh Murphy. That he's a name of Ireland, is it not
so? Yes? Yes, he is an Irishman. And from what part
of Ireland? A Count de Clare leave here, but proceed me. Lord
the Premier started for London. The car was a closed one. He and
Captain Daniel sat inside. The second car followed as usual, but unluckily,
for some unknown reason, the Prime Minister's car deviated from the main road at
a point where the road curves interrupted. Poio, Yes, but how did
you know? Ah se deeviden continue? For some unknown reason, continued Lord
Astaiir. The Premier's car left the main road. The police car, unaware
of the deviation, continued to keep to the high road that at a short
distance down the unfrequented lane. The Prime Minister's car was suddenly held up by
a band of masked men. The chauffeur ah that brave o' murphy, murmured
Puero thoughtfully. The chauffeur momentarily taken aback, jammed on the brakes, the
Prime Minister put his head out of the window. Instantly, usher shot rang
out, then another. The first one grazed his cheek, the second fortunately
went wide. The chauffeur, now realizing the danger, instantly forged straight ahead,
scattering the band of men for a near escape. I ejaculated with a
shiver. When mister McAdam refused to make any farther With the slight wound he
had received, he declared it was only a scratch. He stopped at a
local cottage hospital where it was dressed and bound up. He did not,
of course, reveal his identity. He then drove, as per schedule,
straight to charing Cross, where a special train for Dover was awaiting him,
and, after a brief account of what had happened had been given to the
anxious police by Captain Daniels, he duly departed for Franz At Dover. He
went on board the waiting destroyer at Boulogne. As you know, the boguscarr
was waiting for him, carrying the Union jack and correct in every detail.
Is that? He's all you have to tell me. Yes, there is
no other circumstance that you have omitted, my lord. Well, there is
one rather peculiar thing. Yes, the Prime Minister's car did not return home
after leaving the Prime Minister at Charing Cross. The police were anxious to interview
a Murphy, so a search was instituted at once. The car was discovered
standing outside a certain unsavory little restaurant in Soho, which is well known as
a meeting place of German agents, and the chauffeur. The chauffeur was nowhere
to be found. He too had disappeared, So said Puire thoughtfully, there
are two disappearances, the Prime Minister in France and o' murphy in London.
He looked keenly at Lord Astaire, who made a gesture of despair. I
can only tell you, Monsieur Poiro, that if any one had suggested to
me yesterday that o' murphy was a traitor, I should have laughed in his
face. And to day, well to day I do not know what to
think. Quaro nodded gravely. He looked at his turnip of a watch again.
I understand that I have cat branche, messieur. In every way I
mean, I must be able to go where I choose and how I choose.
Oh, perfectly. There is a special train leaving for Dover in one
hour's time, with a further contingent from Scotland Yard. You shall be accompanied
by a military officer and a C. I. D Man who will hold
themselves at your disposal in every way. Is that satisfactory? Quite one more
question before you leave, monsieur, What made you come to me? I
am well unknown, obscure in this great London of yours. Will we sort
you out on the express recommendation and wish of a very great man of your
own country? Come, My old friend is a prefe. Lord Stair shook
his head, one higher than the prefe, one whose word was once law
in Belgium, and shall be again that England has sworn. Quarre's hand flew
swiftly to a dramatic salute. Amen to that, ha ha. But my
master does not forget ah, Monsieur I rcule Poarot will serve you faithfully.
Heaven only send that it will be in time. But ah Di, she
is dark and dark I cannot see well, quarre, I cried impatiently as
the door closed behind the ministers. What do you think my friend was busy
packing a minute suit case with quick, deft movements. He shook his head
thoughtfully. I don't know what to think. Mad brains desert me. But
why, as you said, kidnap him when a knock on the head would
do as well? I mused, a pardon me, mon ami, But
they did not quite say that. It is undoubtedly far more. They are
fair to kidnap him. But why because uncertainty creates panic. That is one
reason. Were the Prime Minister dead, it would be a terrible calamity,
but the situation would have to be faced. But now you have paralysis.
Will the Prime Minister reappear or will he not? Is he dead or alive?
Nobody knows, and until they know, nothing definite can be done.
And as I tell you, uncertainty breeds panic, which is what let bush
are playing for. Then again, if the kidnappers are holding him secretly somewhere,
they have the advantage of being able to make terms with both sides.
The German government is not a liberal paymaster as a rule, but no doubt
they can be made to discourage substantial remittances in such a case as this.
Thirdly, there run no risk of the hangman's rope. H decidedly kidnapping is
their affair. Oh then if that is so, why should they first try
to shoot him? Quarro made a gesture of anger. Ah, that is
just what I do not understand. It is inexplicable, stupid they have all
there are arrangements made, and very good arrangements too, for the objection,
and yet they imperiled the whole affair by a melodramatic attack where they have a
cinema, and quite as unreal. It is almost impossible to believe in it.
With each band of masked men not twenty miles from London, or perhaps
there were two quite separate attempts which happened irrespective of each other. I suggested,
Ah, no, no, no, no, no, that would
be too much of a coincidence. Then further, who is the traitor?
There must have been a traitor in the first affair anyway, But who was
it? Daniels or oh Murphy, No, it must have been one of
the two, Or why did the car leave the main road? We cannot
suppose that the Prime Minister connived that his own assassination. Nor did o' murphy
take that turning of his own accord? Or was it Daniels who told him
to do so? Now, surely it must have been a Murphy's doing,
Yes, because if it was Daniels, the Prime Minister would have heard the
order and would have asked the reason. Hum. But yet there are altogether
too many whys in this affair, and they contradict each other. If o
Murphy is an honest man, why did he leave the man road? But
if it was a dishonest man, why did he start a car again when
only two shots had been fired, thereby in all probability saving the Prime Minister's
life? And again, if he was honest, why did he immediately on
leaving charing Cross Drive to a well known rendezvous of German spies. Ah,
it looks bad, I said, let us look at the case with method.
What have we for and against? These two men? Take a muffy
thirst against Hum that his conduct in leaving the main road was suspicious, that
he is an irishman from Count de Claire, that he has disappeared in a
highly suggestive manner. Yep Now four, that his promptness in restarting the car
saves the Premier's life. That he is a Scotland yard man, and obviously
from the post a lotted to him, a trusted detective. Now for Daniels,
well, there is not much against him, except the fact that nothing
is known of his antecedents, and that he speaks too many languages for a
good Englishman to imperdle monym. But as linguists you are deplorable. Now him
we have the fact that he was found gagged, bound and chloroformed, which
does not look as though he had anything to do with the matter. Only
might have gagged and bound himself to divert suspicion. Quarre shook his head.
Now the French police would make no mistake of that kind. Besides, once
he had attained his object and the Prime Minister was safely abducted, there would
not be much point in his remaining behind. His accomplices could have gagged and
chloroformed him, of course, but I failed to see what object they hoped
to accomplish by it. He can be of little use to them. Now,
for until the circumstance is concerning the Prime Minister have been cleared up,
he is bound to be closely watched. Or perhaps he hoped to start the
police on a false scent, then why did he not do so? He
merely says that something was pressed over his nose and mouth, and that he
remembers nothing more, not the original of false scent. There it sounds remarkably
like the truth. Well, I said, glancing at the clock, I
suppose we'd better start for the station. You may find more clues in France,
possibly mon A MiB I doubt it. It is incredible to me that
the Prime Minister has not been discovered in that limited area where the difficulty of
concealing him must be tremendous. If the military and the police of two countries
have not found him, how shall I At charing Cross we were met by
mister Dodge. Ay, now, this is Detective Barns of Scotland Yard and
Major Norman. They will hold themselves entirely at your disposal. Now, good
luck you. It's a bad business, but I've not given up. Hope
must be off now, and the Minister strode rapidly away. We chatted in
a desultory fashion with Major Norman. In the center of the little group of
men on the platform, I recognized a little ferret faced fellow talking to a
tall fair man. He was an old acquaintance of Quiros, Detective Inspector JAP,
supposed to be one of the smartest of Scotland Yard's officers. He came
over and greeted my friend cheerfully. Hum, I heard you were on this
job too, smart bit of work. So far they've got away with the
goods, all right, but I can't believe they can keep him hidden long.
Our people are going through France with a tooth comb, and so are
the French. I can't help feelings only a matter of ours now. Whah,
Yes, that is if he's still alive, remarked the tall detective gloomily.
Jap's face fell er. But uh, somehow I've got the feeling he's
still alive, all right, Fuiro nodded, Oh, yes, yes,
he's alive. But can he be found in time? I, like you,
did not believe he could be hidden so long. The whistle blew and
we all trooped up into the pullman car. Then, with a slow,
unwilling jerk, the train drew out of the station. It was a curious
journey. The Scotland yard men crowded together. Maps of northern France were spread
out, and eager forefingers traced the lines of roads and villages. Each man
had his own pet theory. Fuiro showed none of his usual loquacity, but
sat staring in front of him with an expression on his face that reminded me
of a puzzled child. I talked to Norman, whom I found quite an
amusing fellow. While on arriving at Dover, Puiot's behavior moved me to intense
amusement. The little man, as he went on board the boat, clutched
desperately at my arm. The wind was blowing lustily. Oh mon dieu,
he murmured, this is terrible. Oh have courage, Quaro, I cried,
you'll succeed, You'll find him. I'm sure of it. Oh mon
Ami, you mistake my emotion. It is this villainous sea that troubles me.
The Malda mer Eh. It is horrible suffering, oh, I said,
rather taken aback, the first throb of the engines was felt, and
Puio groaned and closed his eyes. The Major Norman has a map of northern
France, if you would like to study it. Quaro shook his head impatiently.
Oh no, no, no, but no leave me, my friend.
See you just think the stomach on the brain must be in harmony.
La Verguier has a method most excellent for averting the malde maire, if you
breathe in and out slowly, so in turning the head from left or right,
and counting six between eat breath. Eh. I left him to his
gymnastic endeavors and went on deck. As we came slowly into Boulogne harbor,
Poirot appeared neat and smiling and announced to me in a whisper that la Vergier's
system had succeeded to a marvel. Jap's forefinger was still tracing imaginary roots on
his map. Nonsense. The car started from Boulogne. Here they branched off.
Now my idea is that they transferred the Prime Minister to another car.
See well, said the tall detective. I shall make for the sea ports
ten to one. They've smuggled him on board a ship. Jap shook his
head. Now too obvious. The order went out at once to close all
the ports. The day was just breaking. As we landed, Major Norman
touched poiro on the arm. Are there's a military car here waiting for you,
sir. I thank you, monsieur. But for the moment I do
not propose to leave Boulogne. But no, we will enter this hotel here
by the key. He suited the action to the word demanded, and was
accorded a private room. We three followed him, puzzled and uncomprehending. He
shot a quick glance at us. Ah, it is not so that the
good detective should act, then, I perceive your thought. He must be
full of energy. Are he must rush to and fro? He should prostrate
himself from the dusty road and seek the marks of tiles through a little glass.
Eh, he must gather up the cigarette and the fallen matcher. That
is your idea, is it not? His eyes challenged us, But I
ercur Poirot tell you that it is not so. The true clues are within.
He tapped his forehead. See you, I need not have left London.
It would have been sufficient for me to sit quietly in my rooms.
There. All that matters is the little grass cells within. Secretly and silently
they do their part, until suddenly I called for a map and lay my
finger on a spot. So and I say, the Prime Minister is there,
and it is so. With method and logic one can accomplish anything.
This frantic rush into France was a mistake. It is playing a child's game
of hide and seek. But now, though it may be too late,
I will set to work the right way from within. Silence, my friends,
I beg of you. And for five long hours the little man sat
motionless, blinking his eyelids like a cat, his green eyes flickering and becoming
steadily greener and greener. The Scotland jard Man was obviously contemptuous. Major Norman
was bored and impatient, and I myself found the time pass with wearisome slowness.
Finally I got up and strolled as noiselessly as I could to the window.
The matter was becoming a farce. I was secretly concerned for my friend.
If he failed, I would have preferred him to fail in a less
ridiculous manner. Out of the window, I idly watched the daily leave boat,
belching forth columns of smoke as she lay alongside the quay. Suddenly I
was aroused by Poirot's voice close to my elbow. Miss emmy, let us
start. I turned. An extraordinary transformation had come over my friend. His
eyes were flickering with excitement. His chest was swelled to the uttermost I have
been and imbecile, my friends, But I see daylight at last. Major
Norman moved hastily to the door. Well, I'll order the car now there
is no need I shall not use it, Thank Heaven, the window has
fallen. WHI your going to walk, sir, No, my young friend,
I am no Saint Peter. I prefer to cross the sea by boat,
but across the sea. Yes. To work with method, one must
begin from the beginning, And the beginning of this affair was in England.
Therefore we returned to England. At three o'clock. We stood once more upon
Charing Cross platform. To all our expostulations. Quarrot turned a deaf ear and
reiterated again and again that the start of the beginning was not a waste of
time, but the only way on the way over. He had conferred with
Norman in a low voice, and the latter had dispatched a sheaf of telegrams
from Dover, owing to the special passes held by Norman. We got through
everywhere in record time. In London, a large police car was waiting for
us with some plain clothes men, one of whom handed a typewritten sheet of
paper to my friend. He answered my inquiring glance a list of the cottage
hospitals with a certain radius west of London. I wired for it from Dover,
whirled rapidly through the London streets. We were on the Bath Road.
On we went through Hammersmith, Chiswick and Brentford. I began to see our
objective through Windsor and so on to Ascot. My heart gave a leap.
Ascott was where Daniels had an aunt living. We were after him, then,
not o' murphy. We duly stopped at the gate of a trim villa.
Wao jumped out and rang the bell. I saw a perplexed frown dimming
the radiance of his face. Plainly he was not satisfied. The bell was
answered. He was ushered inside. In a few moments he reappeared and climbed
into the car with a short, sharp shake of his head. My hopes
began to die down. It was past four now. Even if he found
certain evidence incriminating Daniels. What would be the good of it unless he could
ring from someone the exact spot in France where they were holding the Prime Minister.
Our return progress towards London was an interrupted one. We deviated from the
main road more than once, and occasionally stopped at a small building which I
had no difficulty in recognizing as a cottage hospital. Wuiro only spent a few
minutes at each, but at every halt his radiant assurance was more and more
restored. He whispered something to Norman, to which the latter replied, Ah,
yes, if you turn off to the left, you'll find them waiting
by the bridge. We turned up a side road, and in the failing
light I discerned a second car waiting by the side of the road. It
contained two men in plain clothes. Wuiro got down and spoke to them,
and then we started off in a northerly direction, the other car following close
behind. We drove for some time, our objective being obviously one of the
northern suburbs of London. Finally we drove up to the front door of a
tall house standing a little back from the road in its own grounds. Norman
and I were left with the car. Quiro and one of the detectives went
up to the door and rang a neat parlor maid open. The detective spoke,
I'm a police officer and I have a warrant to search this house.
The girl gave a little scream, and a tall, handsome woman of middle
age appeared behind her in the hall. Shut the door, edith, they're
burglars, I expect, but Quaros swiftly inserted his foot in the door and
at the same time blew a whistle. Instantly, the other detectives ran up
and poured into the house, shutting the door behind them. Norman and I
spent about five minutes cursing are forced inactivity. Finally the door reopened and the
men emerged, escorting three prisoners, a woman and two men. The woman
and one of the men were taken to the second car. The other man
was placed in our car by Poiro himself. I must go with the others,
my friend, but have great care of these gentlemen. You do not
know him. Now, abiem let me present to you monsieur le Murphy.
Oh mathy, I gaped at him, open mouthed as we started again.
He was not handcuffed, but I did not fancy he would try to escape.
He sat there, staring in front of him as though dazed. Anyway,
Norman and I would be more than a match for him. To my
surprise, we still kept a northerly route. We were not returning to London.
Then I was much puzzled. Suddenly, as the car slowed down,
I recognized that we were close to hend An Aerodrome. Immediately I grasped Puiot's
idea. He proposed to reach France by aeroplane. Oh it was a sporting
idea, but on the face of it impracticable. A telegram would be far
quicker. Time was everything. He must leave the personal glory of rescuing the
Prime Minister to others. As we drew up, Major Norman jumped out,
and a plainclothes man took his place. He conferred with Puio for a few
minutes and then went off briskly. I too, jumped out and caught Puiro
by the arm I congratulate you, old fellow. They've told you the hiding
place pH But look here, you must wire to France at once. You'll
be too late if you go Yourselfquiro looked at me, curiously for a minute
or two. Unfortunately, my friend, there are some things that cannot be
sent by telegram. At that moment, Major Norman returned, accompanied by a
young officer in the uniform of the Flying Corps AD. This is Captain Lyle,
who will fly you over to France. He can start at once.
I wrap up warmly, sir, said the young pilot. I can end
you a coat if you like. Quarro was consulting his enormous watch. He
murmured to himself, yes, there is time, just time. Then he
looked up and bowed politely to the young officer. I thank you, monsieur,
but it is not I who am your passenger. It is this gentleman
here. He moved a little aside as he spoke, and a figure came
forward out of the darkness. It was the second male prisoner who had gone
in the other car, And as the light fell on his face, I
gave a start of surprise. It was the Prime Minister. For heaven's sake,
tell me all about it, I cried impatiently, as Puaro, Norman
and I moted back to London. How in the world did they manage to
smuggle him back to England? There was no need to smuggle him back,
replied Puaro dryly. The Prime Minister has never left England. He was kidnapped
on his way from Windsor to London. What I will make all clear.
The Prime Minister was in his car, his secretary beside him. Suddenly a
bad of chloroform is clapped on his face, but by whom by the clever
linguisty Captain Daniels. As soon as the Prime Minister is unconscious, Daniels picks
up the speaking tube and directs o' murphy to turn to the right, which
the chauffeur, quite as suspicious does. A few yards on that unfrequented road,
a large car is standing, apparently broken down. Each driver signals to
a Murphy to stop. O' murphy slows up. The stranger approaches, Daniels
leans out of the window and, probably with the aid of an instantaneous anesthetic
such as ethyl chloride, the chloroform trick is repeated in a few seconds or
two. Help his men are dragged out and transferred to the other car.
A pair of substitutes take their places. Impossible, Paduto, have you not
seen musical turns imitating celebrities with marvelous accuracy. Nothing is easier than to personate
a public character. The Prime Minister of England is far easier to understudy than
mister John Smith of Clapham. Say, as for o' murphy's double, no
one was going to take much notice of him until after the departure of the
Prime Minister, and by then he would have made himself scarce. He drives
straight from Charing Cross to the meeting place of his friends. He goes in
as o' murphy, do you emerge as someone quite different? O'Murphy has disappeared,
leaving a conveniently suspicious trail behind him. But the man who personated the
Prime Minister was seen by everyone. Ah, he was not seen by anyone
who knew him privately or intimately, and Daniels shielded him from contact with anyone
as much as possible. Moreover, his face was bandaged up, and anything
unusual in his manner would be put down to the fact that he was suffering
from shock as a result of the attempt upon his life. Mister McCadam has
a weak throat and always spares his voice as much as possible before any great
speech. The deception was perfectly easy to keep up as far as France,
but there it would be impractical and impossible. So the Prime Minister disappears.
The police of this country hurry across the channel, and no one bothers to
go into the details of the first attack to sustain the illusion that the abduction
has taken place in France. Daniels is gagged and close reformed in a convincing
manner, and the man who has enacted the part of the Prime Minister reads
himself of his disguise. He and the bogus chauffeur may be arrested as suspicious
characters that no one will dream of suspecting their real part in their drama,
and they will eventually be released for lack of evidence and the real Prime Minister.
He and o' murphy were driven straight to the house of Missus Everard at
Hampstead, daniels so called aunt. In reality she is Frau Bertha Ebenthal,
and the police have been looking for her for some time. It is a
valuable little present that I have made them to say nothing of Daniels. Nah.
It was a clever plan, but he did not reckon on the cleverness
of Hercule Poirot. I think my friend might well be excused his moment of
vanity? When did you first begin to suspect the truth of the matter?
When I began to work the right way from within, I could not make
that shooting affair fitt In. But when I saw that the net result of
it was that the Prime Minister went to France with his face bound up,
I began to comprehend. And when I visited all the cottage hospitals between Windsor
and London, I found that no one answering to my description had had his
face bound up and dressed that morning. I was sure after that it was
child's play for a mind like mine. The following morning, Quarro showed me
a telegram he had just received. It had no place of origin and was
unsigned. It ran in time. Later in the day, the evening papers
published an account of the Allied conference. They laid particular stress on the magnificent
ovasion accorded to mister David mccaddam, whose inspiring speech had produced a deep and
lasting impression the tragedy at Marsden Manor. I have been called away from town
for a few days, and on my return found Quaro in the act of
strapping up his small valise ha a la bona II stings. I feared you
would not have returned in time to accompany me, for you are called away
on a case. Then, oh yes, though I am bound to admit
that on the face of it, the affair does not seem promising. The
Northern Union Insurance Company have asked me to investigate the death of a mister Maltravers
who a few weeks ago and shored his life with them for the large sum
of fifty thousand pounds. Yes, I said, much interested. There was
of course the usual suicide clause in the policy. In the event of his
committing suicide within a year, the premiums would be forfeited. Mister Maltraveral's was
duly examined by the company's own doctor, and although he was a man slightly
past the prime of life, was past as being in quite sound health.
However, on Wednesday last, the day before oh yesterday, the body of
mister Maltravell's was found in the grounds of his house in Essex Marsden manner,
and the cause of his death is described as some kind of internal hemorrhage,
not that in itself would be nothing remarkable but sinister. Rumors as to mister
Maltravers's financial position had been in the air of late, and the Northern Union
have ascertained beyond any possible doubt that the deceased gentlemen stood upon the verge of
bankruptcy. No, that author's matters considerably. Mel Travells had a beautiful young
wife, and it is suggested that he got together all the ready money he
could for the purpose of paying the premiums on a life insurance for his wife's
benefit, and then committed suicide. Such a king is not uncommon in any
case. My friend Alfred Wright, who is a director of the Northern Union,
has asked me to investigate the facts of the case, But as I
told him, I am not very hopeful of success. If the cause of
death had been heart failure, I should have been mos sanguine. Heart failure
may always be translated as the inability of the local GP to discover what his
patient really did die of, But a hemorrhage seems fairly definite. Still,
we can but make some necessary inquiries. Five minutes to pack your bags,
a stings and we will take a taxi to Liverpool Street about an hour later,
we are lighted from a great Eastern train at the little station of Marsden
Lee. Inquiries at the station yielded the information that Marsden Manner was about a
mile distant. Quire decided to walk and we betook ourselves along the main street.
What's our plan of campaign, I asked? First, I will call
upon the doctor. I have ascertained that there is only one doctor in Marsden
LEI doctor Ralph Bernard. Ah. Here we are at his house. The
house in question was a kind of superior cottage, standing back a little from
the road. A brass plate on the gate board the doctor's name. We
passed up the path and rang the bell. We proved to be fortunate in
our call. It was the doctor's consulting hour, and for the moment there
were no patients waiting for him. Doctor Bernard was an elderly man, high
shouldered and stooping, with a pleasant vagueness of manner. Quiro introduced himself and
explained the purpose of our visit, adding that insurance companies were bound to investigate
fully in a case of this kind. Oh, of course, of course,
said doctor Bernard, vaguely. I suppose, as he was such a
rich man. His life was in short for a big sun. You consider
I am our rich man doctor. The doctor looked rather surprised, Well,
was it not. He kept two cars, you know, and Marsden Manner
is a pretty big place to keep up. Although I believe he bought it
Verry Troupe. But I understand that he had had considerable losses of let said
Dwarro, watching the door narrowly. The latter, however, merely shook his
head sadly. Oh is that so? Oh? Indeed, it's fortunate for
his wife then that there is this life insurance. Is a very beautiful and
charming young creature, but terribly unstrung by this sad catastrophe, the mass of
nerves poor Thington. I tried to spare her all I can, but of
course it was bound to be considerable. You had been attending mister Moultravell's recently,
My dear sir, I never attended him. What now? I understand
mister Moultravers was a Christian scientist or something of that kind. But you examine
the buddy. Certainly, I was fetched by one of the under gardeners,
and the cause of death was clear. Absolutely there was blood on the lips,
but most of the bleeding must have been internal. Was he still lying
where he had been found? Yes, the body hadn't been touched. He
was lying at the edge of a small plantation. He had eviinentely been o
shooting rooks. Were a small rook rifle lay beside him, the hemorrhage must
have occurred quite suddenly. Gastric also without a doubt, and no question of
his having been shot. Eh My dear sir, I demand Paton, said
quarre humbly. But if my memory is not at fault in the case of
our recent murder, the doctor gave first a Verdi failure, that failure altering
it when the local constable pointed out that there was a bullet wound for the
head. You will not find any bullet wounds on the body of mister Bultrobber's,
said doctor Bernard dryly. Now, gentlemen, if there is nothing farther
we took the hint. Good morning, and many thanks to your doctor of
for so kindly answering our questions. Oh, you saw no need for an
autopsia, certainly not. The doctor became quite apoplectic. The cause of death
was clear, and in my profession, we say no need to distress unduly
the relatives of a dead patient. And turning, the doctor slammed the door
sharply in our faces. And what do you think of doctor Bernard Hastings,
inquired paro, as we proceeded on our way to the manner, But rather
an old ass exactly, yo, judgments of character are always profound, my
friend. I glanced at him uneasily, but he seemed perfectly serious. A
twinkle, however, came into his eye, and he added slyly that used
to say, where there is no question of a beautiful woman. I looked
at him coldly. On our arrival of the man in the house, the
door was opened to us by a middle aged parlormaid. Quarreo handed her his
card and a letter from the insurance company for missus Maltravers. She showed us
into a small morning room and retired to tell her mistress. About ten minutes
elapsed, and then the door was opened, and a slender figure in widow's
weeds stood upon the threshold. Monsieur Quio. She faltered, Oh, Madame
Quaro, sprang gallantly to his feet and hastened towards her. I cannot tell
you how I regret to DRANEU in this way, But what will you,
Lisa Fair? They know no mercy. Missus Maltravers permitted him to lead her
to a chair. Her eyes were red with weeping, but the temporary disfigurement
could not conceal her extraordinary beauty. She was about twenty seven or eight,
and very fair, with large blue eyes and a pretty pouting mouth. It
is thing about my husband's insurance, is it? But must I be bothered
now? So soon goarage, my dear Madame Gourage. You see your letters
band insured his life, or rather a large sum. And in such a
case the company always has to satisfy itself, has to a few details.
They have empowered me to act for them. You can rest assured that I
will do all in my power to render the matter not too impleasant for you.
Will you rock out to me briefly the sad events of Wednesday? While
I was changing for tea when my maid came up. One of the gardeners
had just run to the house. He had found her voice trailed away.
Quaro pressed her hand sympathetically. I comprehend enough. Now you had seen your
husband earlier in the afternoon, well, not since lunch. I had walked
down to the village for some stamps, and I believe he was out puttering
round the grounds shooting rooks. Eh. Yes, he usually took his little
rook rifle with him. And I heard one or two shots in the distance.
And where is these little rook rattle? Now? In the hall?
I think? She led the way out of the room and found and handed
the little weapon to Puiro, who examined it cursorily. All two shots fired,
I see, he observed as he handed it back. And now,
Madame, if I might see, he paused delicately. The servant shall take
you, she murmured, averting her head. The parlor maid summoned led Puio
upstairs. I remained with a lovely and unfortunate woman. It was hard to
know whether to speak or remain silent. I essayed one or two general reflections,
to which she responded absently, and in a very few minutes Poiro rejoined
us. I thank you for all your curtesy, Madame, I do not
think you need be troubled any further with this matter. By the way,
do you know anything of your husband's financial position? She shook her head,
nothing whatever. I'm very stupid over business things. Oh I see, then
you can give us no clue as to why he suddenly decided to ensure his
life. He had not done so previously. I understand, well, we'd
only be married a little every year. But as to why he insured his
life, it was because he had absolutely made up his mind that he would
not live long. He had a strong premonition of his own death. I
gathered that he had had one hemorrhage already, and that he knew that another
one would prove fatal. I tried to dispel these gloomy feels of his,
but without avail. Alas he was only too right, tears in her eyes.
She bad us a dignified farewell. Poiro made a characteristic gesture as we
walked down the drive together. And yet that is that back to London,
my friend. Hmm, there appears to be no mouse in his muscle.
And yet yet what a slight discrepancy? That is all you noticed it?
No, you did not. Still, life is full of discrepancies. And
assuredly the man cannot have taken his life. There is no poison that would
fill his mouth with blood. No, no, no, I must resign
myself to the fact that all here is clear and above boardom oh, but
who is this? A tall young man was striding up the drive towards us.
He passed us without making any sign, but I noted that he was
not ill looking, with a lean, deeply bronzed face that spoke of life
in a tropic climb. A gardener who was sweeping up leaves had paused for
a minute in his task, and Quaro ran quickly up to him. Don'tly,
I pray you, who is that, gentleman? Do you know him?
Well? I don't remember his name, sir, but though I did
hear it, he was staying down here last week for a night Tuesday.
He was quick, Manemi, let us follow him. We hastened up the
drive after the retreating figure, we caught a glimpse of a black robed figure
on the terrace at the side of the house. Our quarry swerved and we
after him. Said that we were witnesses of the meeting. Missus Maltravers almost
staggered where she stood, and her face blanched noticeably. Hugh, she gasped,
I thought you were on the sea on your way to East Africa as
well. I got some news from my lawyers that detained me, exclaimed the
young man, my old uncle in Scotland, died unexpectedly and left me some
money. Under the circumstances, I thought it better to cancel my passage.
And then I saw this bad news in the paper, and I came down
to see if there was anything I could do. You'll want someone to look
after things for you a bit. Perhaps at that moment they became aware of
our presence. Quiro stepped forward and, with many apologies, explained that he
had left his stick in the hall rather reluctantly, it seemed to me,
Missus Maltravers made the necessary introduction Monsieur Puiro Captain Black. A few minutes chat
ensued, in the course of which Quiro elicited the fact that Captain Black was
putting up at the Anchor Inn, the missing stick not having been discovered,
which was not surprising. Puio uttered more apologies, and we withdrew. We
returned to the village at a great pace, and Quiro made a bee line
for the Anchor Inn. Here we established ourselves there until our friend that returns.
He explained, you noticed that I emphasized the point that we were returning
to London by the first train, and possibly you thought I meant it,
but no, you observed Missus Maltraverll's face when she caught sight of this young
Black. She was clearly taken aback. And he yea, he was very
devoted, and did you not think so? And he was here on Tuesday
night, the day before mister Maltravers died. We must investigate the doings of
Captain Black. Hastings. In about half an hour we have spied our quarry
approaching the inn. Whire went out and accosted him and presently brought him up
to the room we had engaged. I have been telling Captain Black of the
mission which brings us here. He explained, you can understand, Monsieur le
capitaine, that I am anxious to arrive at mister Maltravers's state of mind immediately
before his death, and that at the same time I do not wish to
distress Missus Maltrave's unduly by asking of them. God questions. Now, you
were here just before the occurrence and can give us equally valuable information. Well,
I'll do anything I can to help you, I'm sure, replied the
young soldier. But I'm afraid I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.
You see, although mal Travers was an old friend of my people's, I
didn't know him very well myself. No, you came down when a Tuesday
afternoon. I went up to town early Wednesday morning as my boat sailed from
Tilbury about twelve o'clock. But some news I caught made me all to my
plans, as I dare say, you heard me explain to Missus Maltravers you
were returning to East Africa. I understand, yes, I've been out there
ever since the war. A great country. Oh exactly. Now what was
the talk about at dinner on Tuesday night? Oh, I don't know the
usual topics. Mal Travis asked after my people, and then we discussed the
question of German reparations. And then Missus Maltravers are a lot of questions about
his Africa, and I told them one or two yarns. That's that's about
all I think. Thank you. Quaro was silent for a moment. Then
he said, gently, with your permission, I should let it try a
little experiment. You have told us all that your conscious self knows. I
want now to question your sub conscious self hum psychoanalysis, what said Black with
visible alarm. Oh no, said Quaro, reassuringly. You'll see it is
like this. I give you a word, you answer with another, and
so on, any word the first you think of. Shall we begin?
Well? All right, said Black slowly, but he looked uneasy. Note
down the words, please, says things, said Quaro. Then he took
from his pocket his big turnip faced watch and laid it on the table beside
him. We will comments they There was a moment's pause, and then Black
replied light. As Puiro proceeded, his answers came quicker, name, said
Puio, Please, Bernard Shaw, Tuesday, dinner, journey, ship,
country, Uganda, story, lions, rock, rifle, farm shot,
suicide, elephant, tusks, money, lawyers. Thank you, Captain Black.
Perhaps you could spare me a few minutes in about wo half an hour's
time. Certainly, The young soldier looked at him curiously and wiped his brow
as he got up. And now hastings, said Puio, smiling at me,
as the door closed behind him. You see it all, do you
not? I don't know what you mean? Does that least of words tell
you nothing? I scrutinized it, but was forced to shake my head.
I will assist you to begin with Black answered well within the normal time limit
with no pauses, so we can take it that himself has no guilty knowledge
to conceal day to night and place to name our normal associations. I began
work with Bernard, which might have suggested the local doctor had he come across
him at Ullum. Evidently he had not. After our recent conversation. He
gave dinner to my Tuesday, but journey and country were answered by ship and
Uganda, showing clearly that it was his journey abroad that was important to him
and not the one which brought him down here. Story recalls to him one
of the lion's stories he told dinner. I proceeded to rock rifle, and
he answered with a totally unexpected word farm. When I say shot, he
answers at once suicide. The association seems clear. A man he knows committed
suicide with a rook rifle and a farm somewhere. Remember too, that his
mind is still on the stories he told a dinner, and I think you
will agree that I shall not be far from the truth if I recall Captain
Black and ask him to repeat the particular suicide story which he told at the
dinner table on Tuesday evening. Black was straightforward enough over the matter. But
yes, I did tell them that story, now that I come to think
of it. Chap shot himself on a farm out there, did it with
a rook rifle through the roof of his mouth, bullet lodged in the brain.
Doctors were no end puzzled over it. There was daring to show except
a little blood on the lips. But er, what what has it got
to do with mister Moltrivers. You did not know. I see that he
was found with a rook rifle by his side. What do you mean my
story suggested to him? El, But that's awful, Oh, do not
distress hers. It would have been one way or another. Well, I
must get on the gelaphone to London. Quiro had a lengthy conversation over the
wire and came back thoughtful. He went off by himself in the afternoon,
and it was not till seven o'clock that he announced that he could put it
off no longer, but must break the news to the young widow. My
sympathy had already gone out to her unreservedly. To be left penniless and with
the knowledge that her husband had killed himself to assure her future was a hard
burden for any woman to bear. I cherished a secret hope, however,
that young Black might prove capable of consoling her after her first grief had passed.
He evidently admired her enormously. Our interview with the lady was painful.
She refused vehemently to believe the facts that Puiro advanced, and when she was
at last convinced, broke down into bitter weeping. An examination of the body
turned our suspicions into Certaintyquio was very sorry for the poor lady, but after
all, he was employed by the insurance company, and what could he do.
As he was preparing to leave, he said gently to missus moult travers.
Madame, you of all people should know that there are no dead.
Sorry, what do you mean? She faltered, her eyes growing wide.
Have you never taken part in any spiritualistic seances? Eh? You are mediumistic,
you know I have been told so. But you do not believe in
spiritualism? Surely, Madame. I have seen some stratch things, you know
that they say in the village that this house is haunted. She nodded,
and at that moment the parlor maid announced that dinner was ready. Won't you
just stay and have something to eat? We accepted gracefully, and I felt
that our presence could not but help distract her a little from her own griefs.
We had just finished our soup when there was a scream outside the door,
and the sound of breaking crockery. We jumped up. The parlor maid
appeared, her hand to her heart. It was a man standing in the
passage. Quaro rushed out, returning quickly. But there is no one there
isn't there, sir, said the parlor maid weakly. Oh, it did
give me a start, But why, she dropped her voice to a whisper.
I thought, I thought it was the Master. It looked like him.
I saw missus Maltravers give a terrified start, and my mind flew to
the old superstition that a suicide cannot rest. She thought of it too,
I'm sure. For a minute later she caught Pino's arm with a scream.
Didn't you hear that? Those three taps on the window, That's how he
always used to tap when he passed around the house, the ivy, I
cried it, of the ivy, against the pane. But a sort of
terror was gaining on us all. The parlor maid was obviously unstrung, and
when the meal was over, Missus Moultravers besought Quaro not to go at once.
She was clearly terrified to be left alone. We sat in the little
morning room. The wind was getting up and moaning round the house in an
eerie fashion. Twice the door of the room came unlatched, and the door
slowly opened, and each time she clung to me with a terrified gasp.
Ah, but these door, it is bewitched, cried Puaro angrily. At
last, he got up and shut it once more, then turned the key
in the lock. I shall lock it, so don't do that, she
gasped. If it should come open now, And even as she spoke,
the impossible happened. The locked door slowly swung open. I could not see
into the passage from where I sat, but she and Quaro were face She
gave one long shriek as she turned to him. You saw him there in
the passage, she cried. He was staring down at her with a puzzled
face. Then shook his head. I saw him, my husband. You
must have seen him too, Madame. I saw nothing. You are not
well, umstrong. I am perfectly well, are oh God. Suddenly,
without warning, the lights quivered and went out. Out of the darkness came
three loud raps. I could hear Missus Maltravers moaning. And then I saw
the man I had seen on the bed upstairs, stood there facing us,
gleaming with a faint, ghostly light. It was blood on his lips,
and he held his right hand out pointing. Suddenly, a brilliant light seemed
to proceed from it. It passed over Puaro and me and fell on Missus
Moultravers. I saw her white, terrified face and something else. My god,
Quaro, I cried, look at a hand, hur right hand,
it's all red. Her own eyes fell on it, and she collapsed in
a heap on the floor. Blood. She cried, hysterically, Yes,
it's blood. I killed him. I did it. He was showing me.
And then I put my hand on the trigger and pressed, save me
from him, Save me. He's coming back now. Her voice died away
in a gurgle. Lights said Puio briskly. The lights went on as if
by magic. That's it, he continued, You heard those things, and
you Everett. Oh er, by the way, this is mister Everett rather,
a fine member of the theatrical profession. I've phoned to him this afternoon.
His make up is good, isn't it? Quite like the dead man?
And with a pocket torch and the necessary phosphorescence, he made a proper
impression. I shouldn't touch her right hand if I were you. His tings
red paint marks. So when the lights went out, I clasped her hand.
You see, oh, oh, by the way, we mustn't miss
our train. Inspector Jap is outside the window a bad night, but he
has been able to while away the time by tapping on the window every now
and then, you see, continued paro. As we walked briskly through the
wind and rain, there was a little discrepancy. The doctor seemed to think
the deceased was a Christian scientist. Eh and who could have given him that
impression? But missus Meltrothers. But to us she represented him as being in
a great state of apprehension about his health. Again, why was she so
taken aback by the reappearance of young Black and Lastly, although I know that
convention decreased that a woman must make a decent pretense of mourning for her husband,
I do not care for such everly rouged eyelids. You did not observe
them ass things. No, as I always tell you, you see nothing.
Well there it was. There were the two possibilities. Did black Stories
suggest an ingenious method of committing suicide to mister Moult travels, or did his
other listener, the wife, see an equally ingenious method of committing murder?
I inclined to the latter. You to shoot himself in the way indicated,
he would probably have had to pull the trucker with his dough, or at
least so I imagine. Now, if Moult Travers had been found with one
boot off, we should almost certainly have heard of it from someone. An
odd detail like that would have been remembered. No, as I say,
I inclined to the view that it was a case of murder, not suicide.
But I realized that I had not a shadow of proof in support of
my theory. Hence the elaborate little comedy you so played to night. Even
now I don't quite see all the details of the crime. I said well,
let us start from the beginning. Here is a shrewd and scheming woman
who, knowing of her husband's financial deback and tired of the elderly maid she
has only married for his money, induces him to ensure his life for a
large sum, and then seeks for the means to accomplish her purpose. An
accident gives her that the young soldier's strange story. The next afternoon, when
the Sue la capitaine, as she thinks, is on the I sees she
and her husband are strolling rather grounds. What a curious story that was last
night? She observes, Could a man shoot himself in such a way?
To show me if it is possible? The poor fool he shows her.
He places the end of his rifle in his mouth. She stoops down and
puts her finger on the trigger, laughing up at him. And now,
sir, she says solcily, supposing I pulled the trigger, and then and
then hastings she pulls it. End of disc three. Please continue with the next desk