Poirot Investigates - Agatha Christie - 2

Disc two the adventure of the Italian nobleman Quiro and I had many friends and
acquaintances of a rather informal nature. Among these was to be numbered doctor Hawcombe,
a near neighbor of ours and a member of the medical profession. It
was the genial doctor's habit to drop in sometimes of an evening and have a
chat with Quio, of whose genius he was an ardent admirer. The doctor,
himself frank and unsuspicious to the last degree, admired the talents so far
removed from his own. On one particular evening in early June, he arrived
about half past eight and settled down to a comfortable discussion on the cheery topic
of the prevalence of arsenical poisoning in crimes. It must have been about a
quarter of an hour later when the door of our sitting room flew open and
a distracted female precipitated herself into the room. Oh, doctor, you wanted
such a terrible voice. It gave me a turn, it did. Indeed,
I recognized in our new visitor doctor Hawker's housekeeper, Miss Rider. The
doctor was a bachelor and lived in a gloomy old house a few streets away.
The usually placid miss Rider was now in a state bordering on incoherence.
Well, what terrible voice? Who is it? And what's the trouble?
It was a telephone doctor. I answered it, and a voice spoke Help.
It said doctor, help, they've killed me, and then it sort
of trailed away. Who's speaking? I said, who's speaking? Then I
got a reply, or just a whisper. It seemed Foscatine or something like
that, Regent's Court. The doctor uttered an exclamation, Count Foscatini, he
has a flat in Regent's Court. I must go at once. What can
have happened a patient of yours, asked Quiro. Well, yes, I
attended him for some slight ailment a few weeks ago, an Italian, but
he speaks English perfectly. Well, I must wish you good night, Monsieur
Puio, unless he hesitated. Ah, I perceive a thought in your mind,
said Puio, smiling. I shall be delighted to accompany you. Hastings,
run down and get hold of a taxi. Taxes always make themselves sought
for when one is particularly pressed for time. But I captured one at last,
and we were soon bowling along in the direction of Regent's Park. Regent's
Court was a new block of flats situated just off Saint John's Wood Road.
They had only recently been built and contained the latest service devices. There was
no one in the hall. The doctor pressed the lift bell impatiently, and
when the lift arrived, questioned the uniformed attendant, sharply, Flat eleven,
Count Foscattini, there's been an accident there, I understand. The man stared
at him. First. I've heard of it, mister Graves. That's Count
Foscatine's man went out about half an hour ago. He said nothing. Where
is the Count alone in the flat? No, sir, he's got two
gentlemen dining with him. What are they like, I asked eagerly. We
were in the lift, now ascending rapidly to the second floor, on which
Flat eleven was situated. I didn't see them myself, sir, but I
understand that they were foreign gentlemen. He pulled back the iron door and we
stepped out on the landing. Number eleven was opposite to us. The doctor
rang the bell. There was no reply, and we could hear no sound
from within. The doctor rang again, and again we could hear the bell
trilling within, but no sign of life rewarded us. Hm, this is
getting serious, muttered the doctor. He turned to the lift attendant. Is
there any past key to the store? Ah, there is one in the
porter's office downstairs. Get it then, and look here. I think you'd
better send for the police. Quiot approved with a nod of the head.
The man returned, and shortly with him came the manager. Will you tell
me, gentlemen, what is the meaning of all this? Certainly I received
a telephone message from Count Foscattini stating that he had been attacked and was dying.
You can understand that we must lose no time if we are not already
too late. The manager produced the key without more ado, and we all
entered the flat. We passed first into a small square lounge hall. A
door on the right of it was half open. The manager indicated it with
a nod. The dining room. Doctor Hawker led the way. We followed,
close on his heels. As we entered the room, I gave a
gasp. The round table in the center bore the remains of a meal.
Three chairs were pushed back, as though their occupants had just risen. In
the corner to the right of the fireplace was a big writing table, and
sitting at it was a man, or what had been a man. His
right hand still grasped the base of the telephone, but he had fallen forward,
struck down by a terrific blow on the head from behind. The weapon
was not far to seek. A marble statuette stood where it had been hurriedly
put down, the base of it stained with blood. The doctor's examination did
not take a minute. Stone dead must have been almost instantaneous. I wonder
he even managed to telephone. It will be better not to move him until
the police arrived. On the manager's suggestion, we searched the flat, but
the result was a foregone conclusion. It was not likely that the murderers would
be concealed there when all they had to do was to walk out. We
came back to the dining room. Poirot had not accompanied us in our tour.
I found him studying the center table with close attention. I joined him.
It was a well polished, round mahogany table. A bowl of roses
decorated the center, and white lace mats reposed on the gleaming surface. There
was a dish of fruit, but the three dessert plates were untouched. There
were three coffee cups with remains of coffee in them, two black, one
with milk. All three men had taken port, and the decanter, half
full, stood before the center plate. One of the men had smoked a
cigar, the other two cigarettes. A tortoise shell and silver box holding cigars
and cigarettes stood open upon the table. I enumerated all these thanks to myself,
but I was forced to admit that they did not shed any brilliant light
on the situation. I wondered what Quiro saw in them to make him so
intent, I asked him, man Emi, He replied, you miss the
point. I am looking for something that I do not see. What is
that? A mistake, even a little mistake on the part of the murderer.
He stepped swiftly to the small adjoining kitchen, looked in and shook his
head. Monsieur, he said to the manager, explain to me at Prey
your system of serving meals here. The manager stepped to a small hatch in
the wall ah. This is the service lift, he explained. It runs
to the kitchens at the top of the building. You order through this telephone
and the dishes are sent down in the lift, one course at a time.
The dirty plates and dishes are sent up in the same manner. No
domestic barries, you understand, and at the same time you avoid the wearying
publicity of always dining in a restaurant. Quarro nodded. Then, the plates
and dishes that were used to night are on high in the kitchen. You
permitted, I mount there. Oh, certainly, if you like Roberts,
the liftman will take you up and introduce you. But I'm afraid you won't
find anything that's of any use. Who they're handling hundreds of plates and dishes,
and they'll be all lumped together. Quaro remained firm, however, and
together we visited the kitchens and questioned the man who had taken the order from
Flat eleven. The order was given from the a la carte menu for three.
He explained, soup julienne fill it to sold normand tornadoes of beef and
of rice soufle. What time? Just about eight o'clock? I should say,
No, I'm afraid the plates and dishes have all been washed up by
now. Hm. Unfortunate. Oh you were thinking of fingerprints. I suppose
we're not exactly, said Puero with an enigmatical smile. I am more interested
in cant Fosquetini's appethet. Did he but take of ever a dish? Oh?
Yes, But of course I can't say how much of each he ate.
The plates were soiled and the dishes empty. Well, that's to say,
with the exception of the rice soufly, there was a fair amount of
that left. Ah, said Poio, and seemed satisfied with the fact.
As we descended to the flat again, he remarked, in a low tone,
we have decidedly to do with a man of method. What do you
mean, the murderer of Count Foscatini. The letter was undobted, Leonodoli gentleman.
After imploring help and announcing his approaching demise, he carefully hung up the
telephone receiver. I stared at Puio. His words now and his recent inquiries
gave me the glimmering of an idea. You suspect poison, I breathed.
The blow on the head was a blind Puiro merely smiled. We re entered
the flat to find a local inspector of police had arrived with two constables.
He was inclined to resent our appearance, but Poirot calmed him with the mention
of our Scotland yard friend inspected jab and we were accorded a grudging permission to
remain. It was a lucky thing we were, for we had not been
back five minutes before an agitated, middle aged man came rushing into the room
with every appearance of grief and agitation. This was Graves, valet butler to
the late Count Foscatini. The story he had to tell was a sensational one.
On the pre this morning, two gentlemen had called to see his master.
They were Italians, and the elder of the two, a man of
about forty, gave his name as Signor Ascanio. The younger was a well
dressed lad of about twenty four. Count Foscatini was evidently prepared for their visit
and immediately sent Graves out upon some trivial errand here the man paused and hesitated
in his story. In the end, however, he admitted that, curious
as to the purport of the interview, he had not obeyed immediately, but
had lingered about, endeavoring to hear something of what was going on. The
conversation was carried on in so low a tone that he was not as successful
as he had hoped, but he gathered enough to make it clear that some
kind of monetary proposition was being discussed, and that the basis of it was
a threat. The discussion was anything but amicable. In the end, Count
Foscatini raised his voice slightly, and the listener heard these words clearly. I
have no time to argue further. Now, gentlemen, if you were to
dine with me to morrow night at eight o'clock, we will resume the discussion
afraid of being discovered listening. Graves had then hurried out to do his master's
errand this evening. The two men had arrived punctually at eight. During dinner,
they had talked of indifferent matters, politics, the weather, and the
theatrical world. When Graves had placed the port upon the table and brought in
the coffee, his master told him that he might have the evening off.
Was that a usual proceeding of his when he had guests, asked the inspector,
I'll no, sir, it wasn't. That's what made me think it
must be some business of a very unusual kind that he was going to discuss
with these gentlemen. That finished Graves's story. He had gone at about eight
thirty, and, meeting a friend, had accompanied him to the Metropolitan Music
Hall in Edgeware Road. Nobody had seen the two men leave, but the
time of the murder was fixed clearly enough at eight forty seven. A small
clock on the writing table had been swept off by Fascatini's arm and had stopped
at that hour, which agreed with Miss Ryder's telephone summons. The police surgeon
had made his examination of the body, and it was now lying on the
couch. I saw the face for the first time, the olive complexion,
the long nose, the luxuriant black mustache, and the full red lips drawn
back from the dazzlingly white teeth. Not altogether a pleasant face, well,
said the inspector, refastening his note book. The case seems clear enough.
The only difficulty would be to lay our hands on this signor, as Carnio
I suppose his address. He is not in the dead man's pocket book by
any chance. As Piro had said, the late Fascatini was an orderly man,
neatly written in small, precise handwriting. Was the inscription signor Paolo Ascarno
Grosvenor Hotel. The inspector busied himself with the telephone, then turned to us
with a grin just in time. Uh huh, our fine gentleman was off
to catch the boat train to the continent. Well, gentlemen, that's about
all we can do here. It's a bad business, but straightforward enough.
One of these Italian vendetta things as likely as not. Thus airily dismissed,
we found our way down, says Dr Hawker. Was full of excitement,
like the beginning of a novel, real exciting stuff. Wouldn't believe it if
you read about it. Quio did not speak. He was very thoughtful all
the evening. He had hardly opened his lips. What says the master detective
asked Hawker, clapping him on the back. Nothing to work your gray cells
over this time? You think, not, well, what could there be?
Well, for example, there he's the window, the window, but
it was fastened. Nobody could have got out or in that way, I
know specially. And why were you able to notice it? The doctor looked
puzzled. Paro hastened to explain. It is to the cottons, I refer
they were not drawn a little odd that, and then there was the coffee.
It was very black coffee. Well what of it? Very black?
Repeated Paro. In conjunction with that, let us remember that very little of
the rice soufflet was eaten, and we get what Moonshine laughed the doctor,
you're pulling my leg. Never do I pull the leg. Hastings here knows
that I am perfectly serious. I don't know what you're getting at all.
The same I confessed, you don't suspect a man servant, do you?
He might have been in with the gang and put some dope in the coffee.
But I suppose they'll test his alibi, Oh, without doubt, my
friend. But it is the alibia signor Ascanio that interests me. Will you
think he has an alibi? That is just what worries me. I have
no doubt that we shall soon be enlaightened. On that point, The Daily
Newsmonger enabled us to become conversant with succeeding events. Signor Ascanio was arrested and
charged with the murder of Count Foscutini. When arrested, he denied knowing the
count and declared he had never been near Regent's court either. On the evening
of the crime, or on the previous morning the younger man had disappeared entirely.
Signor Ascanio had arrived alone at the Grosvenor Hotel from the continent two days
before the murder. All efforts to trace the second man failed. Ascanio,
however, was not sent for trial. No less a personage than the Italian
ambassador himself came forward and testified at the police court proceedings that Ascario had been
with him at the embassy from eight till nine that evening the prisoner was discharged.
Naturally, a lot of people thought that the crime was a political one
and was being deliberately hushed up. Pwio had taken a keen interest in all
these points. Nevertheless, I was somewhat surprised when he suddenly informed me one
morning that he was expecting a visitor at eleven o'clock, and that that visitor
was none other than Ascarneo himself. He wishes to consult you due two hastings.
I wished to consult him, But what about the regents caught mother?
Were you going to prove that he did it? A man cannot be tried
twice for murder hastings, endeavor to have the common sense. Ah, that
is our friend's ring. A few minutes later, Signor Ascario was ushered in
a small, thin man with a secretive and furtive glance in his eyes.
He remained standing, darting suspicious glances from one to the other of us.
Monsieur quarle, my little friend, tapped himself gently on the chest. Busited,
Signor, you received my note. I am determined to get to the
bottom of this mystery. In some small measure you can aid me. Let
us come on you in the company with a friend visited the late Count Fasquetini
on the morning of Tuesday the ninth. The Italian made an angry gesture.
Indeed, nothing of the sort I have sworn in court percissimo, and I
have a little idea that you have sworn falsely. You threaten me, peh,
I have nothing to fear from you. I have been acquitted exactly,
and as I am not an imbecile. It is not with the gallows I
threaten you, but with publicity. Publicity. Ha ha, I see that
you do not like the word. I had an idea that you would not
my little ideas you know they are very valuable to me. Come, signor,
your only chance is to be frank with me. Now, I do
not ask to know what indiscretions brought you to England. I know this much.
You came for the special purpose of seeing Count Foscuetini. He was not
a count, growled the Italian. No. I have already noted the fact
that his name does not appear in the Almannac Decotta. Never mind, the
title of count is often useful in the profession of blackmailing. Hmm, I
suppose I might as well be frank. You seem to know a good deal.
I have employed my gressles to some advantage. Come, senor, ask
can you you visited the dead Man on the Tuesday morning? That is so?
Is it not? Yes? But I never went there on the following
evening. There was no need. Ah. I will tell you all certain
information concerning a man of great position in it had come into this Countrees's possession.
He demanded a big sum of money in return for the papers. I
came over to England to arrange the matter. I called upon him by appointment
that morning. One of the young secretaries of the embassy was with me.
The Count was more reasonable than I had hoped, although even then the sum
of money I paid him was a huge one. Oh but no, how
was he paid in Italian notes of comparatively smaller denomination. I paid over the
money then, and there he handed me the incriminating papers. I never saw
him again. Why did you not sail this when you are arrested? In
my delicate position, I was forced to deny any association with the man.
And how do you account for the events of the evening? Then? I
can only think that someone must have deliberately impersonated me. I understand that no
money was found in the flat. Parle looked at him and shook his head
strange. He murmured, will have the little gressals, and so few of
us know how to use them? Good morning, signor quno, I believe
your story. It is very much as I have imagined, but they had
to make sure. After bowing his guest Outquarre returned to his arm chair and
smiled at me. Let us hear monsieur le capitaine hastings on the case.
Well, I suppose Ascarnier is right. Somebody impersonated him. Ah, never,
never, will you use the brains the good God has given you?
Or recall to yourself some words I uttered after leaving the flat that night.
I refer to the window cottons not being drawn. H we are in the
month of June. It is still light at eight o'clock. The light is
failing by half past, Savodi Cacochos. I perceive a struggling impression that you
will arrive some day. Oh, now, let us continue. He was,
as I said, very black. Count Fosqatini's teeth were magnificently white.
Coffee stands. The teeth hm to be risen. From that that Count Foskettini
did not drink any coffee, yet there was coffee in all three cups.
Why should anyone pretend Count Fosquettini had drunk coffee when he had not done?
So, I shook my head utterly bewildered. Come, I will help you.
What evidence have we The Tascanio and his friend or two men, pausing
as them ever, came to the flat that night. Nobody saw them go
in, nobody saw them go out. We have the evidence of one man
and of a host of inanimate objects. You mean, I mean knives and
forks, and plates and empty dishes. Ah, But it was a clever
idea. Graves is a thief and a scoundrel, but what a man of
method. He overhears a portion of the conversation in the morning enough to realize
that Escania will be in an awkward position to defend himself. The following evening,
about eight o'clock, he tells his master he is wanted at a telephone.
Foscatini sits down, stretches out his hand to the telephone, and from
behind Graves strikes him down with a marble figure. Then quickly to the service
telephone. Dinner for three it comes. He lays the table, dir is,
the plates, knives and fogs, et cetera. But he has to
get rid of the food too. Ha hm. Not only is he a
man of brain, he has a resolute and carpacious stomach. But after eating
three tornado the rice soo flays too much for him. He even smokes a
seagown to cigarettes to carry out the illusion. Hah, but it was magnificently
thorough. Then, having moved on the hands of the clock to eight forty
seven, he smashes it and stops it. The one thing he does not
do is to draw the cottons. But if there had been a real dinner
party, the curtains would have been drawn as soon as the light began to
fail. Then he hurries out, mentioning the guests to the liftman. In
passing, he hurries to a telephone box and as near as possible to eat
forty seven rings up the doctor with his master's dying cry. So successful is
his idea that no one ever inquires if a call was put through from Flat
eleven at that time except Hercule Paro, I suppose, I said, sarcastically.
Not even her Culee Poero, said, my friend, with a smile.
I am about to inquire now. I had to prove my point to
you first, but you will see I shall be right. And then Jap,
to whom I have already given a hint, will be able to arrest
the respectable Graves. I wonder how much of the money he has spent.
Quiro was right. He always is confound him the Adventure of the Western Star.
I was standing at the window of Quiro's rooms, looking out idly on
the street below. That's queer, I ejaculated suddenly beneath my breath. What
is manname me? Asked Quiro placidly from the depths of his comfortable chair,
deduce Quiro from the following facts. Here is a young lady, richly dressed,
fashionable hat, magnificent furs. She is coming along slowly, looking up
at the houses as she goes. Unknown to her, she is being shadowed
by three men and a middle aged woman. They have just been joined by
an errand boy who points after the girl, gesticulating as he does so,
Now, what drama is this being played? Is the girl a crook?
And are the Shadowers detectives preparing to arrest her? Or are they the scoundrels?
And are they plotting to attack an innocent victim? What does the great
detective say? Hum? The great detective man Ami chooses, as ever,
the simplest cost. He arises to see for himself. And my friend joined
me at the window in a minute, he gave vent to an amused chuckle.
As usual, your facts are tinged with your insurable romanticism. That is
miss Mary Marvelle, the film star. She is being followed by a bevy
of admirers who have recognized her and on passant, my dear hastings. She
is quite aware of the fact I laughed, So all is explained, But
you get no marks for that, Quaro, It was a mere matter of
recognition on verite. And how many times have you seen Mary Marvelle on the
screen, moncher eh I thought, ah, about a dozen times, perhaps,
m and I once. Yet I recognize her and you do not.
No, but she looks so different, I replied, rather feebly. Ah,
SACREI cried, Puaro, is it that you expect her to promenade herself
in the streets of London in a cowboyat or with their feet and a bunch
of curls as an Irish Colleen always with you. It is the non essentials,
remember the case of the dancer Valerie Saint Clair. Eh I shrugged my
shoulders, slightly annoyed. But console yourself, mane Emmy, said Puaro,
calming down. All cannot be as Hercule Poirot. I know it, well,
you really have the best opinion of yourself of any one I ever knew,
I cried, divided between amusement and annoyance. Well, what will you
when one is unique, one knows it and others share that opinion, even
if I mistake it, not Miss Mary Marvelle, what or without doubt she
is coming here do you take that out? Very simply? This street,
it is not aristocratic monemie in it. There is no fashionable doctor, or
no fashionable dentist. Still less is there a fashionable millionaire, But there is
a fashionable detective. We my friend, it is true. I am become
the mode. The denier cree. One says to another common you have lost
your gold pencil case. You must go to the little Belgian. Oh he
is too marvelous. Everyone goes Goorey and they arrive in flox Manami with problems
of the most foolish hum A bell rang below. What did I tell you?
That is miss marvel? As usual, puiot was right. After a
short interval, the American film star was ushered in and we rose to our
feet. Mary Marvell was undoubtedly one of the most popular actresses on the screen.
She had only lately arrived in England in company with her husband, Gregory
b Ralph, also a film actor. Their marriage had taken place about a
year ago in the States, and this was their first visit to England.
They had been given a great reception. Every one was prepared to go mad
over Mary Marville. How wonderful clothes, her furs, her jewels, above
all one jewel, the Great Diamond, which had been nicknamed to match its
owner, the Western Star. Much true and untrue had been written about this
famous stone, which was reported to be in short for the enormous sum of
fifty thousand pounds. All these details passed rapidly through my mind as I joined
with Quaro in greeting our fair client. Miss Marville was small and slender,
very fair and girlish looking, with the wide, innocent blue eyes of a
child. Quaro drew forward her chair for her, and she commenced talking at
once. You'll probably think me very foolish, Monsieur Quarole. But Lord Cranshaw
was telling me last night how wonderfully you clear up the mystery of his nephew's
death, and I felt that I just must us have your advice. I
dare say, it's only a silly hoax. Well, Gregory says so,
but it's just worrying maid to death. She paused for breath. Puiro beamed
encouragement. Proceed, Madame, you comprehend, I am still in the dark.
It's these letters. Miss Marvell unclasped her hand bag and drew out three
envelopes which she handed to Puiot the letter scrutinized them closely cheap peperin the name
and address carefully printed, let us see the inside. He drew out the
enclosure. I had joined him and was leaning over his shoulder. The writing
consisted of a single sentence, carefully printed like the envelope. It ran as
follows, the great diamond, which is the left eye of the God,
must return. Whence it came. The second letter was couched in precisely the
same terms, but the third was more explicit. You have been warned,
you have not obeyed. Now the diamond will be taken from you. At
the full of the moon. The two diamonds, which are the left and
right eye of the God shall return. So it is written on the first
letter. I treated as a joke, explained Miss Marvell. And when I
got the second, I began to wonder. The third one came yesterday,
and it seemed to me that after all the matter might be more serious than
I had imagined. I see they need not come by post, these letters.
No, they were left by hand by a chinaman. That is what
frightens me. Why well, because it was from a chink in San Francisco.
The Gregory bought the stone three years ago. I see, madame,
that you believe the diamond referred to to be the Western Star, finished Miss
Marvell. That's so. At the time, Gregory remembers that there was some
story attached to the stone, but the chink wasn't handing out any information.
Gregory says, he seemed just scared to death and in a mortal hurry to
get rid of the thing. He only asked about a tenth of its value.
It was Gregg's wedding present to me. Puaro nodded thoughtfully. Hm,
the story seems of an almost unbelievable romanticism, and yet who knows? I
pray of you Hastings hand me my little almannaik einh. I complied, whyont,
said Puaro, turning the leaves. When is the date of the full
moon? Ah ha, Friday next, that is in three days time.
Ibiere, madame, you seek my advice. I give it to you.
This belistoir may be a hoax, but it may be not. Therefore,
I counsel you to place the diamond in my keeping until after Friday next.
Then we can take what steps we please. A slight cloud passed over the
actress's face, and she replied constrainedly. Well, I'm afraid that's impossible.
Oh, but you have it with you, eh. Quaro was watching her
narrowly. The girl hesitated a moment, then slipped her hand into the bosom
of her gown, drawing out a long, thin chain. She leaned forward,
unclosing her hand in the palm a stone of white fire, exquisitely set
in platinum lay, and winked at us solemnly. Puarret drew in his breath
with a long hiss i baton. He murmured, you permit, madame.
He took a jewel in his own hand and scrutinized it keenly, then restored
it to her with a little bow. A magnificent stone wiout aflow ah,
Saint donaire. You carry it about with you, com sir ah, No,
no, no, I'm very careful, really, Monsieur Quarot. As
a rule, it's locked up in my jewel case and left in the hotel's
safe deposit. We're staying at the Magnificent, you know, I just brought
it along to day for you to see, m hm. And you will
leave it with mina spa. You will be advised by Papa Poaront. Well,
you see it's this way, Monsieur quarole. On Friday, we're going
down to Yardly Chase to spend a few days with Lord and Lady Yardley.
Her words awoke a vague echo of remembrance in my mind. Some gossip,
What was it? Now? A few years ago Lord and Lady Yardley had
paid a visit to the States. Rumor had it that his lordship had gone
the pace out there with the assistance of some lady friends. But surely there
was something more, more gossip which coupled Lady Yardley's name with that of a
movie star in California. And why it came to me in a flash,
of course, it was none other than Gregory b Ralph. I'll let you
into a little secret, Monsieur quarrele. Miss Marvell was continuing, We've got
a deal on with Lord Yardley. There's some chance of our arranging to film
a play down there in his ancestral pile at Yardley Chase. I cried,
interested, Why it's one of the show places of England. Miss Marvell nodded.
I guess it's the real old feudal stuff, all right, but he
wants a pretty stiff price. And I don't know yet whether the deal will
go through. But Gregg and I always like to combine business with pleasure.
But I demand father. If I am, thence madame. Surely it is
possible to visit Yardley Chase without taking the diamond with you. A shrewd hard
look came into Miss Marvell's eyes, which belied their childlike appearance. She looked
suddenly, A good deal older, I want to wear it down there.
But surely, I said, suddenly. There are some very famous jewels in
the Yardley collection, A large diamond amongst them. Are that? So said
Miss Marvell. Briefly, I heard Poirot murmur beneath his breath, Ah,
Sir Concin. Then he said aloud, with his usual uncanny luck in hitting
the bull's eye, though he dignifies it by the name of psychology. Then
you are, without doubt already acquainted with Lady Yardley, or perhaps your husband
is Gregory knew her when she was out west three years ago, said Miss
Marvell. She hesitated a moment, and then added, abruptly, do either
of you ever see society gossip? We both pleaded guilty rather shamefacedly. Well,
I ask, because in this week's number there's an article on famous jewels,
and it's really very curious. She broke off. I rose, went
to the table at the other side of the room and returned with the paper
in question in my hand. She took it from me, found the article,
and began to read out loud. Amongst other famous stones may be included
the Star of the East, a diamond in the possession of the Yardley family.
An ancestor of the present Lord Yardley brought it back with him from China,
and a romantic story is said to attach to it. According to this,
the stone was once the right eye of a temple god. Another diamond
exactly similar in foreman's size formed the left eye, and the story goes that
this jewel, too, would in course of time be stolen. One eye
shall go west, the other east, till they shall meet once more.
Then in triumph shall they return to the God. It is a curious coincidence
that there is at the present time a stone corresponding closely in description with this
one, and known as the Star of the West or the Western Star.
It is the property of the celebrated film star Miss Mary marvel A comparison of
the two stones would be interesting. She stopped it. Batter murmured, Quaro
without doubts are romance of their first water. He turned to Mary Marvelle,
and you are not afraid, madam. You have no superstitious darrors. You
do not fear to introduce these two Siamese twins to each other lest the chinaman
should appear. And a presto whisked them both back to China. His tone
was mocking, but I fancied that an undercurrent of seriousness lay beneath it.
Oh, I don't believe that lady Yardle's diamond is anything like as good as
mine, said Miss marvell. Anyway, I'm going to see what more Poio
would have said. I do not know, for at that moment the door
flew open, and a splendid looking man strode into the room. From his
crisply curling black head to the tips of his painted leather boots, he was
a hero fit for Romance. I said, I'll call round for you,
Mary, said Gregory Ralph. And here I am, well, what is
Monsieur Poirot say to our little problem? Ah, just one big hoax?
Same as I do Unquaro smiled up at the big actor. They made a
ridiculous contrast. Hoax or no hoax, Monsieur Rolfe, he said, dryly,
I have advised Madame your wife not to take the jewel with her to
Yardley Chase on Friday. Oh I'm with you there, sir, I've already
said sort of Mary. But there she's a woman through and through, and
I guess she can't bear to think of another woman out shining her in the
jewel line. Huh oh, what nonsense, Gregory, said Mary marvel sharply,
but she flushed angrily. Quarre shrugged his shoulders. Madame, I have
advised I can do no more, Cephini. He bowed them both to the
door. Ah la la, he observed, returning Istwadefan the good husband.
He hid the nail under head to the men. He was not thattural assuredly
not. I imparted to him my vague remembrances, and he nodded vigorously.
Ah so, I thought, all the same, there is something curious underneath
her. Of this. With your permission, maney me, I will take
the air await ma return, I beg of you. I shall not belong
I was asleep in my chair when the landlady tapped on the door and put
her head in. I it's another lady to see mister Quaro, Sir.
I've told her he was out, as she says, as how she'll wait,
seeing as she's come up from the country. Oh, we'll show her
in here, missus Murchison. Perhaps I can do something for her. In
another moment, the lady had been ushered in my heart gave a leap as
I RECOGNI Lady Yardley's portrait had figured too often in the society papers to allow
her to remain unknown. Do sit down, Lady Yardley, I said,
drawing forward a chair. My friend Poirot is out, but I know for
a fact that he'll be back very shortly. She thanked me and sat down.
A very different type, this from Miss Mary Marvell. Tall, dark,
with flashing eyes and a pale, proud face, yet something wistful in
the curves of the mouth. I felt the desire to rise to the occasion.
But why not in Quire's presence? I have frequently felt a difficulty.
I do not appear at my best, and yet there is no doubt that
I, too possessed a deductive sense in a marked degree. I leant forward
on a sudden impulse. Lady Yardley, I said, I know why you've
come here. You have received blackmailing letters about the diamond em while there was
no doubt as to my bolt having shot home. She stared at me,
open mouthed, all color from her cheeks. You know, she gasped,
How I smiled, by a perfectly logical process. If miss Marvell has had
warning letters, Miss Marvel, she has been here, She's just left.
As I was saying, If she, as the holder of one of the
twin diamonds, has received a mysterious series of warnings, you, as the
holder of the other stone, must necessarily have done the same. You see
how simple it is. I am right, Then you have received these strange
communications. Also for a moment she hesitated, as though in doubt whether to
trust me or not. Then she bowed her head in assent with a little
smile. That is so, she acknowledged, Were yours too left by hand
by a chinaman? No, they came by post. But tell me,
has miss Marvell undergone the same experience? Then I recounted to her the events
of the morning. She listened attentively, well it all fits in my letters
are the duplicate of hers. It is true that they came by post,
but there is a curious perfume impregnating them, something in the nature of Justick
that at once suggested the east to me. What does it all mean?
I shook my head. Well, that is what we must find out.
You have the letters with you. We might learn something from the post marks.
Now. Unfortunately I destroyed them. You understand at the time I regarded
it as some foolish joke. Can it be true that some Chinese gang are
really trying to recover the diamonds? It seems too incredible. We went over
the facts again and again, but could get no further towards the elucidation of
the mystery. At last, Lady Yardley rose, I really don't think I
need wait for Monsieur Poirot. You can tell him all this, can't you?
Thank you so much, mister m She hesitated, her hand outstretched.
Captain Hastings, oh, of course, how stupid of me. You're a
friend of the Cavendishes, aren't you. It was Mary Cavendish who sent me
to Monsieur Poirot. When my friend returned, I enjoyed telling him the tale
of what had occurred during his absence. He cross questioned me rather sharply over
the details of our conversation, and I could read between the lines that he
was not best pleased to have been absent. I also fancied that the dear
old fellow was just the least inclined to be jealous. It had become rather
opposed with him to consistently belittle my abilities, and I think he was chagrined
at finding no loophole for criticism. I was secretly rather pleased with myself,
though I tried to conceal the fact for fear of irritating him. In spite
of his idiosyncrasies, I was deeply attached to my quaint little friend. Yet
he said, at length, with a curious look on his face, the
plot develops, pass me. I pray you that peerage on the top shelf.
There he turned the leaves. Uh huh, here we are. Yardley
tenth Vacounts served South African War to Santa Pasada Mountans. Married nineteen hundred and
seventy Honorable Modes top ten, fourth daughter of third Baron Cartarilli, has two
daughters born nineteen hundred and eight nineteen ten Clubs Residences, Davola. That does
not tell us much. But tomorrow morning we see this Millard, What yes,
I telegraphed to him. Well, I thought you'd wash your hands of
the case. I end up acting for miss Marvel since he refuses to be
guided by my advice. What I do now is for my own satisfaction,
the infection of Hercule Poirot decidedly, I must have a finger in the spy,
and you calmly while Lord Yardley to dash up the town just to suit
your convenience. He won't be pleased. Oh contrere If I preserve for him
his family diamond, he ought to be very grateful. Well then you really
think there's a chance of it being stolen? I asked eagerly. Almost a
certainty, replied Puio placidly. Everything points that way. But how Quaro stopped
my eager questions with an airy gesture of the hand. Not. Now,
I pray you let us not confuse the mind and observe that peerage how you
have replaced it. See you not that the tallest books go in the top
shelf, the next tallest indoor raw beneath, and so on. Thus we
have order method, which, as I have often told you, histings M
M exactly, I said hastily, and put the offending volume in its proper
place. Lord Hardly turned out to be a cheery, loud voiced sportsman with
a rather red face, but with a good humored bon on me about him
that was distinctly attractive and made up for any lack of mentality as extraordinary business.
This, Monsieur Paro, can't make hell and tell of it. Seems
my wife's been getting on kind of letters, and that Miss Marvel's had em
too. What does all mean? Quaro handed him the copy of Society Gossip.
First, Milan, I would ask you if these facts are substantially correct.
The peer took it, his face darkened with anger as he read damned
nonsense. He spluttered, there's never been any romantic story attaching to the diamond.
It came from India originally, I believe I never heard of all this
Chinese god's stuff. Steer at the Stone, he's known as the Star of
the East. Well, what if it is? He demanded wrathfully. Quio
smiled a little, but made no direct reply. What I would ask you
to do, Milan, is to please yourself in my hands. If you
do so unreservedly, I have great hopes of averting the catastrophe. But then
you think there's actually something in these wild cat tails. Will you do as
I ask you? Of course I will. But Pierre then permitted, I
ask you a few questions. It is a fair of yardlet chase, Is
it, as you say, all fixed up between you and Monsieur Ralph?
Now he told you about it in Ah, Well, no, there's nothing
settled. He hesitated, the brick red color of his face deepening. Might
as well get things straight. I've made rather an ass of myself in any
ways, Monsieur Poaro, and I'm head over years in debt, but I
want to pull up. I'm fond of the kids, and I want to
straighten things up and be able to live on at the old place. Gregory
Ralph is offering me big money, enough to set me on my feet again.
I don't want to do it, but I hate the thought of all
that crowd play acting round the chase. But I may have to unless he
broke off. Puio eyed him keenly. You have then another string to your
bull permitted. I make a guess it is to sell the Star of the
East. Lord Yardley nodded, that's it. It's been in the family for
some generations, but it's not entailed. Still, it's not the easiest thing
in the world to find a purchaser. Hofburg, the Hatton garden man is
on the lookout for a likely customer, but he'll have to find one soon
or it's a wash out. One more question, Permette. Lady yardleyh which
plan does she approve? Oh, well, she's bitterly opposed to my selling
the jewel. You know what women are. She's all for this film stunt,
I comprehend, said Puio. He remained a moment or so in thought,
then rose briskly to his feet. You returned to Yardley Chase at once.
Yeah, say no word to anyone, to any one mind, but
expect a their this evening. We will arrive shortly after five. All right,
but I don't see Senapa dam portance, said Puirot. Kindly, you
wish that I preserve for you your diamond, Miss Ba, Yes, but
then do as I say. A sadly bewildered nobleman left the room. It
was half past five when we arrived at Yardley Chase, and followed the dignified
butler to the old paneled hall with its fire of blazing logs. A pretty
picture met our eyes, Lady Yardley and her two children. The mother's proud,
dark head bent down over the two fair ones. Lord Yardley stood near
lyling down on them. Monsieur Paro and Captain Hastings announced the butler. Lady
Yardley looked up with a start, for her husband came forward uncertainly, certainly,
his eyes seeking inside. Joseparo, the little man was equal to the
occasion. All my excuses, it is that I investigate still this affair of
miss Marvell's. She comes to you, and Freddy, does she not?
I make a little tour first to make sure that oliseecure. Also, I
wanted to ask Lady Yagley if she recollected at all of the postmarks on the
letter she received. Lady Yardley shook her head regretfully. I'm afraid I don't.
It's stupid of me, but you see I never dreamt of taking them.
Seriously, you'll stay the night, said Lord Yardley. Oh my lord,
I fear to incommodieux. We have left our bags at the inn.
Well, that's all right, Lord Yardley had his cue. We'll send down
for them. No, no, no trouble, I assure you. Quaro
permitted himself to be persuaded, and, sitting down by Lady Yardley, began
to make friends with the children. In a short time, they were all
romping together and had dragged me into the game. Who's it, bonnaire,
said Quaro with a gallant little bow. As the children were removed reluctantly by
a stern Lady Yardley smoothed her ruffled hair. I I adore them, she
said, with a little catch in her voice. A dressing gong sounded,
and we rose to go up to our rooms. At that moment, the
butler entered with a telegram on a salver, which he handed to Lord Yardley.
The latter tore it open with a brief word of apology. As he
read it, he stiffened visibly with an ejaculation. He handed it to his
wife. Then he glanced at my friend Loker. Just a minute, Monsieur
Parrow, I feel you ought to know about this. It's from Hofburg.
He thinks he's found a customer for the Diamond, an American sailing for the
States to morrow. They're sending down a chap to night to vet the stone
by jove, though if this goes through words failed him. Lady Yardley had
turned away. She still held the telegram in her hand. I wish you
wouldn't sell it, George, she said, in a low voice. It's
been in the family so long. She waited as though for a reply,
but when none came, her face hardened. She shrugged her shoulders. I
must go and dress. I suppose I had better display the goods. She
turned to Quaro with a slight grimace. It's one of the most hideous necklaces
that was ever designed. George has always promised to have the stones reset for
me, but it's never been done. She left the room. Half an
hour later, we three were assembled in the great drawing room, awaiting the
lady. It was already a few minutes past the dinner hour. Suddenly there
was a low rustle, and Lady Yardley appeared framed in the doorway, a
radiant figure in a long, white, shimmering dress. Round the column of
her neck was a rivulet of fire. She stood there with one hand just
touching the necklace. Behold the sacrifice, she said gaily, her ill humor
seemed to have vanished. Wait while I turned the big light on, and
you shall feast your eye on the ugliest necklace in England. The switches were
just outside the door. As she stretched out her hand to them, the
incredible thing happened suddenly, without any warning, every light was extinguished. The
door banged, and from the other side of it came a long, drawn,
piercing woman's scream. My god, cried Lord Yardley. That was Maude's
voice. What's happened? We rushed blindly for the door, cannoning into each
other in the darkness. It was some minutes before we could find it,
and what a sight met our eyes. Lady Yardley lay senseless on the marble
floor, a crimson mark on her white throat where the necklace had been wrenched
from her neck. As we bent over her, uncertain for the moment whether
she was dead or alive, her eyelids opened. The chinaman. She whispered
painfully, the chinaman the side door. Lord Y sprang up with an oath.
I accompanied him, my heart beating wildly. The chinaman again. The
side door in question was a small one in the angle of the wall,
not more than a dozen yards from the scene of the tragedy. As we
reached it, I gave a cry. There, just short of the threshold
lay the glittering necklace, evidently dropped by the thief in the panic of his
flight. I swooped joyously down on it. Then I uttered another cry,
which Lord Yardley echoed, for in the middle of the necklace was a great
gap. The star of the East was missing. That settles it, I
breathed. These were no ordinary thieves. This one stone was all they wanted.
Yet, but how did the fellow get in? But through this door?
But it's always locked. I shook my head. Well it's not locked
now, see. I pulled it open as I spoke. As I did
so, something fluttered to the ground. I picked it up. It was
a piece of silk, and the embroidery was unmistakable. It had been torn
from a chinaman's robe. In his haste, it caught in the door.
I explained, Come hurry, he cannot have gone far as yet. But
in vain we hunted and searched in the pitch darkness of the night, the
thief had found it easy to make his get away. We returned reluctantly,
and Lord Yardley sent off one of the footmen post haste to fetch the police.
Lady Yardley, aptly ministered to by Poirot, who is as good as
a woman in these matters, was sufficiently recovered to be able to tell her
story. I was just going to turn on the other light, she said,
when a man sprang on me from behind. He tore my necklace from
my neck with such force that I fell headlong to the floor. As I
fell, I saw him disappearing through the side door, and then I realized,
by the pigtail and the embroidered robe, that he was a Chinaman.
She stopped with a shudder. The butler reappeared. He spoke in a low
voice to Lord Yardley, a gentleman from mister Hofburg's. My lord, he
says, you expect him good heavens, cried the distracted nobleman. I must
see him, I suppose, But no, not here, Mullings in the
library, I drew Pwaro aside. Look here, my dear fellow, hadn't
we better get back to London, you think, Sir Hastings, Why well,
I coughed delicately. Things haven't gone very well, have they. I
mean, you tell Lord Yardley to place himself in your hands, and all
will be well, and then the diamond vanishes from under your very nose.
True, said Puaro, rather crestfallen. It was not one of my most
striking triumphs. Well. This way of describing events almost caused me to smile,
but I stuck to my guns. So having pardon expression rather made a
mess of things. Don't you think it would be more graceful to leave immediately?
Mander dinner that, without doubt excellent dinner that a chef of Lord Yardley
had prepared. Oh what dinner? I said impatiently. Puaro held up his
hands in horror. Mon dieu, it is that in this country you treat
the affairs chastronomy with a criminal indifference. Ah. But there's another reason why
we should get back to London as soon as possible, I continued. What
is that, my friend, the other diamond, I said, lowering my
voice. Miss marvels Abien, what of it? What don't you see?
His unusual obtuseness annoyed me. What had happened to his usually keen wits.
They've got one now they'll go for the other here, cried Quaro, stepping
back a pace and regarding me with admiration. But your brain much is to
a marvel, my friend, figure to yourself that for the moment I had
not thought of that. Ah, but there is plenty of time the full
of the moon. It is not until Friday I shook my head dubiously.
The full of the moon theory lift me entirely cold. I had my way
with Puio, however, and we departed immediately, leaving behind us a note
of explanation and apology for Lord Yardley. My idea was to go at once
to the Magnificent and relate to Miss Marvel what had occurred, but Puio vetoed
the plan and insisted that the morning would be time enough. I gave in
rather grudgingly. In the morning, Puio seemed strangely disinclined to stir out.
I began to suspect that, having made a mistake to start with, he
was singularly loath to proceed with the case. In answer to my persuasions,
he pointed out, with admirable common sense, that as the details of the
affair at Yardley Chase were already in the morning papers, the Ralphs would know
quite as much as we could tell them. I gave way unwillingly. Events
proved my forebodings to be justified. About two o'clock the telephone rang. Quaro
answered it. He listened for some moments, then with a brief pieen jiesire,
he rang off and turned to me. What do you think, mon
ami hainh? He looked, half ashamed, half excited. The diamond of
miss Marvelle it has been stolen? What I cried? Springing up? And
what about the full of the moon? Now? Quaro hung his head.
When did this happen this morning? I understand? I shook my head sadly.
If only you had listened to me, you see I was right.
Ah it a pier so manay me, said Puaro cautiously. Appearances are deceptive,
they say, but he certainly appears so. As we hurried in a
taxi to the Magnificent, I puzzled out the true inwardness of the scheme.
That full of the Moon, I dear, was clever. The whole point
of it was to get us to concentrate on the Friday and so be off
our guard beforehand. It's a pity you did not realize that, ugh ma
FOI said Puiro airily. His nonchalance, quite restored after its brief eclipse.
One cannot think of everything. I felt sorry for him. He did so
hate failure of any kind. Cheer up, I said, consolingly, Better
luck next time. M At the Magnificent we were ushered at once into the
manager's office. Gregory Ralph was there with two men from Scotland Yard. A
pale faced clerk sat opposite them. Ralph nodded to us as we entered.
While we're getting to the bottom of it, he said, but it's almost
unbelievable how the guy had the nerve. I can't think. A very few
minutes sufficed to give us the facts. Mister Ralph had gone out of the
hotel at eleven fifteen. At eleven thirty, a gentleman so like him in
appearance as to pass muster, entered the hotel and demanded the duel case from
the safe deposit. He duly signed the receipt, remarking carelessly as he did
so. Looks a bit different from my ordinary one, but I hurt my
hand getting out of the taxi. The clerk merely smiled and remarked that he
saw very little difference. Ralph laughed and said, well, don't run me
in as a crook this time. Anyway, I've been getting threatening letters from
a Chinaman, and the worst of it is I look rather like a chink
myself. It's something about the eyes, huh. Now. I looked at
him, said the clerk who was telling us this, and I saw at
once what he meant. The eyes slanted up at the corners like an oriental's.
I've never noticed it before, darn it all, man, roared Gregory
Ralph, leaning forward. Do you notice it now? The man looked up
at him and started, No, Sir, he said, I can't say
I do. And indeed there was nothing even remotely oriental about the frank brown
eyes that looked into ours. The Scotland yard man grunted hmm. Bold customer
thought the eyes might be noticed. Took the bull by the ORNs to disarmed
suspicion. He must have watched you at the hotel, sir, and nipped
in as soon as you were well away. But what about the jewel case,
I asked? Why it was found in the corridor of the hotel.
Only one thing had been taken, the Western Star. We stared at each
other. The whole thing was so bizarre, so unreal. Quaro hopped briskly
to his feet. I have not been of much use, I fear,
he said, regretfully. Is it permitted to see Madame Ah? I guess
she is prostrated with a shark, exclaimed Ralph. And then perhaps I might
have a few words alone with you, monsieur. Certainly. In about five
minutes Quaro reappeared. Now, my friend, he said gaily, to a
post office. I have to send a telegram. Well, who too,
Lord Yadley? He discounted further inquiries by slipping his arm through mine. Come,
come, many mean I know all that you feel about his terrible business.
I have not distinguished myself, an you in my place might have distinguished
yourself. Bien, all it is admitted. Let us forget it and have
lunch. It was about four o'clock when we entered Puaro's rooms. A figure
rose from a chair by the window. It was Lord Yardley. He looked
haggard and distraught. I got your wire and came up at once. Look
here, I've been round to Hofburg, and they know nothing about that man
of theirs last night or the wire either. Do you think that Wuaro held
up his hand? My excuses I sent that wire and hired the gentleman in
question. You. But why what, the nobleman spluttered impotently. My little
idea was to bring things to a head, explained Puaro placidly, bring things
to a head. Oh my god, cried Lord Yardley. And the ruse
succeeded, said Puaro cheerfully. Therefore, my Lord, I have much pleasure
in returning you this. With a dramatic gesture, he produced a glittering object.
It was a great diamond, the star of the East, gasped Lord
Yardley. But I don't understand, no, said Wuaro, it makes no
matter. Un Believe me. It was necessary for the diamond to be stolen.
I promised you that it would be preserved you and I have kept my
word. You must permit me to keep my little secret. Convey I beg
of you the assurances of mey Deep's respect to Lady Adeline, and tell her
how pleased I am to be able to restore a jewel to her. What
button is it not? Anne? Good day, my lad And smiling and
talking, the amazing little man conducted the bewildered nobleman to the door. He
returned, gently, rubbing his hands Poirot, I said, am I quite
demented? No, madame, but you are as always in a mental fog.
But how did you get the diamond from mister Rolfe? Ralph A may
we the warning letters, the chinaman, the article in Society gossip all sprang
from the ingenious brain of mister Rolfe. The two diamonds supposed to be so
miraculously alike, Empa, they do not exist. There was only one diamond,
my friend, originally in the Yardly collection for three years. It has
been in the possession of Monsieur Ralph. He stole it this morning, with
the assistance of a touch of grispaint at the corner of each eye. Ha
ha, I must see him on the film. He is indeed an artist,
Cellula. But why should he steal his own diamond? I asked,
puzzled for many reasons. To begin with, Lady Yardley was getting restive.
Lady Yardley, you comprehend she was left much alone in California. Her husband
was amusing himself elsewhere. Mister Ralph was handsome man. He had an air
about him of romance. But U fant he is very business like, so
Monsieur he made love to lady Yarleigh, and then he blackmailed her. I
taxed the lady with the truth the other night, and she admitted it.
She swore that she had only been indiscreet, and I believe her. But
undoubtedly Ralph had letters of hers that could be twisted to bear a different interpretation.
Terrified by the threat of a divorce and the prospect of being separated from
a children, she agreed to all he wished. She had no money of
her own, and she was forced to permit him to substitute a paste replica
for the real stone. The coincidence of the date of the appearance of the
Western Star struck me at once. All goes well, eh Lord Yardley prepares
to arrange himself to settle down, and then comes the menace of the possible
sale of the day diamond. The substitution will be discribed without doubt, She
writes so frantically to Gregory Ralph, who has just arrived in England. He
soothes her by promising to arrange all and prepares for a double robbery. In
this way he will quiet the lady, who might conceivably tell all to her
husband, an affair which would not suit our blackmailer. At all, he
will have fifty thousand pounds insurance money. Ha ha, you had forgotten that,
eh, And he will still have the diamond. At this point I
put my finger in the pie. The arrival of a diamond expert is announced
Lady Yardley, as I felt sure she would immediately arrange the robbery, and
does it very well too. But heer cur poero, he sees nothing but
facts. What happens in actuality? Eh. The lady switches off the light,
bangs the door, throws the necklace down the passage, and screams she
has already wrenched out the diamond with fliers upstairs. Yes, but we saw them