HP31-DeadMan'sFolly

AgathaChristie

Chapter1

ItwasMissLemon,Poirot'sefficientsecretary,whotookthetelephonecall.

Laying aside her shorthand notebook, she raised the receiver and said without emphasis, "Trafalgar
8137."

HerculePoirotleanedbackinhisuprightchairandclosedhiseyes.Hisfingersbeatameditativesoft
tattooontheedgeofthetable.Inhisheadhecontinuedtocomposethepolishedperiodsoftheletterhe
hadbeendictating.

Placingherhandoverthereceiver,MissLemonaskedinalowvoice:

"WillyouacceptapersonalcallfromNassecombe,Devon?"

Poirotfrowned.Theplacemeantnothingtohim.

"Thenameofthecaller?"hedemandedcautiously.

MissLemonspokeintothemouthpiece.

"Air-raid?"sheaskeddoubtingly."Oh,yes-whatwasthelastnameagain?"

OncemoresheturnedtoHerculePoirot.

"MrsAriadneOliver."

HerculePoirot'seyebrowsshotup.Amemoryroseinhismind:windsweptgreyhair...aneagleprofile...

HeroseandreplacedMissLemonatthetelephone.

"HerculePoirotspeaks,"heannouncedgrandiloquently.

"Is that Mr Hercules Porrot speaking personally?" the suspicious voice of the telephone operator
demanded.

Poirotassuredherthatthatwasthecase.

"You'rethroughtoMrPorrot,"saidthevoice.

ItsthinreedyaccentswerereplacedbyamagnificentboomingcontraltowhichcausedPoirothastilyto
shiftthereceiveracoupleofinchesfartherfromhisear.

"M.Poirot,isthatreallyyou?"demandedMrsOliver.

"Myselfinperson,Madame."

"ThisisMrsOliver.Idon'tknowifyou'llrememberme-"

"ButofcourseIrememberyou,Madame.Whocouldforgetyou?"

"Well, people do sometimes," said Mrs Oliver. "Quite often, in fact. I don't think that I've got a very
distinctivepersonality.Orperhapsit'sbecauseI'malwaysdoingdifferentthingstomyhair.Butallthat's
neitherherenorthere.IhopeI'mnotinterruptingyouwhenyou'refrightfullybusy?"

"No,no,youdonotderangemeintheleast."

"Goodgracious-I'msureIdon'twanttodriveyououtofyourmind.Thefactis,Ineedyou."

"Needme?"

"Yes,atonce.Canyoutakeanaeroplane?"

"Idonottakeaeroplanes.Theymakemesick."

"Theydome,too.Anyway,Idon'tsupposeitwouldbeanyquickerthanthetrainreally,becauseIthink
the only airport near here is Exeter which is miles away. So come by train. Twelve o'clock from
Paddington to Nassecombe. You can do it nicely. You've got three-quarters of an hour if my watch is
right-thoughitisn'tusually."

"Butwhereareyou,Madame?Whatisallthisabout?"

"NasseHouse,Nassecombe.AcarortaxiwillmeetyouatthestationatNassecombe."

"Butwhydoyouneedme?Whatisallthisabout?"Poirotrepeatedfrantically.

"Telephones are in such awkward places," said Mrs Oliver. "This one's in the hall... People passing
through and talking... I can't really hear. But I'm expecting you. Everybody will be so thrilled. Good-
bye."

Therewasasharpclickasthereceiverwasreplaced.Thelinehummedgently.

With a baffled air of bewilderment, Poirot put back the receiver and murmured something under his
breath.MissLemonsatwithherpencilpoised,incurious.Sherepeatedinmutedtonesthefinalphrase
ofdictationbeforetheinterruption.

"-allowmetoassureyou,mydearsir,thatthehypothesisyouhaveadvanced..."

Poirotwavedasidetheadvancementofthehypothesis.

"ThatwasMrsOliver,"hesaid."AriadneOliver,thedetectivenovelist.Youmayhaveread..."Buthe
stopped, remembering that Miss Lemon only read improving books and regarded such frivolities as
fictionalcrimewithcontempt."ShewantsmetogodowntoDevonshiretoday,atonce,in-"heglanced
attheclock-"thirty-fiveminutes."

MissLemonraiseddisapprovingeyebrows.

"Thatwillberunningitratherfine,"shesaid."Forwhatreason?"

"Youmaywellask!Shedidnottellme."

"Howverypeculiar.Whynot?"

"Because," said Hercule Poirot thoughtfully, "she was afraid of being overheard. Yes, she made that
quiteclear."

"Well,really,"saidMissLemon,bristlinginheremployer'sdefence."Thethingspeopleexpect!Fancy
thinking that you'd go rushing off on some wild goose chase like that! An important man like you! I
havealwaysnoticedthattheseartistsandwritersareveryunbalanced-nosenseofproportion.ShallI
telephonethroughatelegram:RegretunableleaveLondon?"

Herhandwentouttothetelephone.Poirot'svoicearrestedthegesture.

"Dutout!"hesaid."Onthecontrary.Besokindastosummonataxiimmediately."Heraisedhisvoice.
"Georges! A few necessities of toilet in my small valise. And quickly, very quickly, I have a train to
catch."

II

Thetrain,havingdoneonehundredandeighty-oddmilesofitstwohundredandtwelvemilesjourney
attopspeed,puffedgentlyandapologeticallythroughthelastthirtyanddrewintoNassecombestation.
Onlyonepersonalighted,HerculePoirot.Henegotiatedwithcareayawninggapbetweenthestepof
thetrainandtheplatformandlookedroundhim.Atthefarendofthetrainaporterwasbusyinsidea
luggagecompartment.Poirotpickeduphisvaliseandwalkedbackalongtheplatformtotheexit.He
gaveuphisticketandwalkedoutthroughthebooking-office.

AlargeHumbersaloonwasdrawnupoutsideandachauffeurinuniformcameforward.

"MrHerculePoirot?"heinquiredrespectfully.

HetookPoirot'scasefromhimandopenedthedoorofthecar.Theydroveawayfromthestationover
therailwaybridgeandturneddownacountrylanewhichwoundbetweenhighhedgesoneitherside.
Presently the ground fell away on the right and disclosed a very beautiful river view with hills of a
mistyblueinthedistance.Thechauffeurdrewintothehedgeandstopped.

"TheRiverHelm,sir,"hesaid."WithDartmoorinthedistance."

Itwasclearthatadmirationwasnecessary.Poirotmadethenecessarynoises,murmuringMagnifique!
several times. Actually, Nature appealed to him very little. A well-cultivated neatly arranged kitchen
gardenwasfarmorelikelytobringamurmurofadmirationtoPoirot'slips.Twogirlspassedthecar,
toiling slowly up the hill. They were carrying heavy rucksacks on their backs and wore shorts, with
brightcolouredscarvestiedovertheirheads.

"There is a Youth Hostel next door to us, sir," explained the chauffeur, who had clearly constituted
himselfPoirot'sguidetoDevon."HoodownPark.MrFletcher'splaceitusedtobe.ThisYouthHostel
Associationboughtitandit'sfairlycrammedinsummertime.Takeinoverahundredanight,theydo.
They'renotallowedtostaylongerthanacoupleofnights-thenthey'vegottomoveon.Bothsexesand
mostlyforeigners."

Poirot nodded absently. He was reflecting, not for the first time, that seen from the back, shorts were
becoming to very few of the female sex. He shut his eyes in pain. Why, oh why, must young women
arraythemselvesthus?Thosescarletthighsweresingularlyunattractive!

"Theyseemheavilyladen,"hemurmured.

"Yes,sir,andit'salongpullfromthestationorthebusstop.BestpartoftwomilestoHoodownPark."
Hehesitated."Ifyoudon'tobject,sir,wecouldgivethemalift?"

"Byallmeans,byallmeans,"saidPoirotbenignantly.Therewasheinluxuryinanalmostemptycar
andherewerethesetwopantingandperspiringyoungwomenweigheddownwithheavyrucksacksand
withouttheleastideahowtodressthemselvessoastoappearattractivetotheothersex.Thechauffeur
startedthecarandcametoaslowpurringhaltbesidethetwogirls.Theirflushedandperspiringfaces
wereraisedhopefully.

Poirotopenedthedoorandthegirlsclimbedin.

"It is most kind, please," said one of them, a fair girl with a foreign accent. "It is longer way than I
think,yes."

The other girl, who had a sunburnt and deeply flushed face with bronzed chestnut curls peeping out
beneathherhead-scarf,merelynoddedherheadseveraltimes,flashedherteeth,andmurmured,Grazie.
Thefairgirlcontinuedtotalkvivaciously.

"ItoEnglandcomefortwoweekholiday.IcomefromHolland.IlikeEnglandverymuch.Ihavebeen
StratfordAvon,ShakespeareTheatreandWarwickCastle.ThenIhavebeenClovelly,nowIhaveseen
Exeter Cathedral and Torquay - very nice - I come to famous beauty spot here and tomorrow I cross
river,gotoPlymouthwherediscoveryofNewWorldwasmadefromPlymouthHoe."

"Andyou,signorina?"Poirotturnedtotheothergirl.Butsheonlysmiledandshookhercurls.

"ShedoesnotmuchEnglishspeak,"saidtheDutchgirlkindly."WebothalittleFrenchspeak-sowe
talk in train. She is coming from near Milan and has relative in England married to gentleman who
keeps shop for much groceries. She has come with friend to Exeter yesterday, but friend has eat veal
hampienotgoodfromshopinExeterandhastostaytheresick.Itisnotgoodinhotweather,theveal
hampie."

Atthispointthechauffeursloweddownwheretheroadforked.Thegirlsgotout,utteredthanksintwo
languages and proceeded up the left-hand road. The chauffeur laid aside for a moment his Olympian
aloofnessandsaidfeelinglytoPoirot:

"It'snotonlyvealandhampie-youwanttobecarefulofCornishpastiestoo.Putanythinginapasty
theywill,holidaytime!"

He restarted the car and drove down the right-hand road which shortly afterwards passed into thick
woods.HeproceededtogiveafinalverdictontheoccupantsofHoodownParkYouthHostel.

"Nice enough young women, some of 'em, at that hostel," he said; "but it's hard to get them to
understandabouttrespassing.Absolutelyshockingthewaytheytrespass.Don'tseemtounderstandthat
a gentleman's place is private here. Always coming through our woods, they are, and pretending that
theydon'tunderstandwhatyousaytothem."Heshookhisheaddarkly.

Theywenton,downasteephillthroughwoods,thenthroughbigirongates,andalongadrive,winding
upfinallyinfrontofabigwhiteGeorgianhouselookingoutovertheriver.

Thechauffeuropenedthedoorofthecarasatallblack-hairedbutlerappearedonthesteps.

"MrHerculePoirot?"murmuredthelatter.

"Yes."

"Mrs Oliver is expecting you, sir. You will find her down at the Battery. Allow me to show you the
way."

Poirotwasdirectedtoawindingpaththatledalongthewoodwithglimpsesoftheriverbelow.Thepath
descendedgraduallyuntilitcameoutatlastonanopenspace,roundinshape,withalowbattlemented
parapet.OntheparapetMrsOliverwassitting.

Sherosetomeethimandseveralapplesfellfromherlapandrolledinalldirections.Applesseemedto
beaninescapablemotifofmeetingMrsOliver.

"Ican'tthinkwhyIalwaysdropthings,"saidMrsOliversomewhatindistinctly,sincehermouthwas
fullofapple."Howareyou,M.Poirot?"

"Trèsbien,chèreMadame,"repliedPoirotpolitely."Andyou?"

MrsOliverwaslookingsomewhatdifferentfromwhenPoirothadlastseenher,andthereasonlay,as
she had already hinted over the telephone, in the fact that she had once more experimented with her
coiffure.ThelasttimePoirothadseenher,shehadbeenadoptingawindswepteffect.Today,herhair,
richlyblued,waspiledupwardinamultiplicityofratherartificiallittlecurlsinapseudoMarquisestyle.
The Marquise effect ended at her neck, the rest of her could have been definitely labelled "country
practical," consisting of a violent yolk-of-egg rough tweed coat and skirt and a rather bilious-looking
mustard-colouredjumper.

"Iknewyou'dcome,"saidMrsOlivercheerfully.

"Youcouldnotpossiblyhaveknown,"saidPoirotseverely.

"Oh,yes,Idid."

"IstillaskmyselfwhyIamhere."

"Well,Iknowtheanswer.Curiosity."

Poirot looked at her and his eyes twinkled a little. "Your famous woman's intuition," he said, "has,
perhaps,foroncenotledyoutoofarastray."

"Now,don'tlaughatmywoman'sintuition.Haven'tIalwaysspottedthemurdererrightaway?"

Poirot was gallantly silent. Otherwise he might have replied, "At the fifth attempt, perhaps, and not
alwaysthen!"

Insteadhesaid,lookingroundhim:

"Itisindeedabeautifulpropertythatyouhavehere."

"This?Butitdoesn'tbelongtome,M.Poirot.Didyouthinkitdid?Oh,no,itbelongstosomepeople
calledStubbs."

"Whoarethey?"

"Oh, nobody really," said Mrs Oliver vaguely. "Just rich. No, I'm down here professionally, doing a
job."

"Ah,youaregettinglocalcolourforoneofyourchefs-d'oeuvre?"

"No,no.JustwhatIsaid.I'mdoingajob.I'vebeenengagedtoarrangeamurder."

Poirotstaredather.

"Oh,notarealone,"saidMrsOliverreassuringly."There'sabigfêtethingontomorrow,andasakind
of novelty there's going to be a Murder Hunt. Arranged by me. Like a Treasure Hunt, you see; only
they've had a Treasure Hunt so often that they thought this would be a novelty. So they offered me a

very substantial fee to come down and think it up. Quite fun, really - rather a change from the usual
grimroutine."

"Howdoesitwork?"

"Well,there'llbeaVictim,ofcourse.AndClues.AndSuspects.Allratherconventional-youknow,the
Vamp and the Blackmailer and the Young Lovers and the Sinister Butler and so on. Half a crown to
enter and you get shown the first Clue and you've got to find the Victim, and the Weapon and say
WhodunnitandtheMotive.AndtherearePrizes."

"Remarkable!"saidHerculePoirot.

"Actually,"saidMrsOliverruefully,"it'sallmuchhardertoarrangethanyou'dthink.Becauseyou've
gottoallowforrealpeoplebeingquiteintelligent,andinmybookstheyneedn'tbe."

"Anditistoassistyouinarrangingthisthatyouhavesentforme?"

Poirotdidnottryveryhardtokeepanoutragedresentmentoutofhisvoice.

"Oh, no," said Mrs Oliver. "Of course not! I've done all that. Everything's all set for tomorrow. No, I
wantedyouforquiteanotherreason."

"Whatreason?"

Mrs Oliver's hands strayed upward to her head. She was just about to sweep them frenziedly through
her hair in the old familiar gesture when she remembered the intricacy of her hair-do. Instead, she
relievedherfeelingsbytuggingatherearlobes.

"IdaresayI'mafool,"shesaid."ButIthinkthere'ssomethingwrong."

Chapter2

There was a moment's silence as Poirot stared at her. Then he asked sharply: "Something wrong?
How?"

"Idon'tknow...That'swhatIwantyoutofindout.ButI'vefelt-moreandmore-thatIwasbeing-oh!
-engineered...jockeyedalong...Callmeafoolifyoulike,butIcanonlysaythatiftherewastobea
realmurdertomorrowinsteadofafakeone,Ishouldn'tbesurprised!"

Poirotstaredatherandshelookedbackathimdefiantly.

"Veryinteresting,"saidPoirot.

"IsupposeyouthinkI'macompletefool,"saidMrsOliverdefensively.

"Ihaveneverthoughtyouafool,"saidPoirot.

"AndIknowwhatyoualwayssay-orlook-aboutintuition."

"Onecalls things bydifferent names," saidPoirot. "I am quiteready to believethat you have noticed
something, or heard something, that has definitely aroused in you anxiety. I think it possible that you
yourselfmaynotevenknowjustwhatitisthatyouhaveseenornoticedorheard.Youareawareonly
oftheresult.IfImaysoputit,youdonotknowwhatitisthatyouknow.Youmaylabelthatintuitionif
youlike."

"Itmakesonefeelsuchafool,"saidMrsOliver,ruefully,"nottobeabletobedefinite."

"Weshallarrive,"saidPoirotencouragingly."Yousaythatyouhavehadthefeelingofbeing-howdid
youputit-jockeyedalong?Canyouexplainalittlemoreclearlywhatyoumeanbythat?"

"Well,it'sratherdifficult...Yousee,thisismymurder,sotospeak.I'vethoughtitoutandplanneditand
itallfitsin-dovetails.Well,ifyouknowanythingatallaboutwriters,you'llknowthattheycan'tstand
suggestions.Peoplesay'Splendid,butwouldn'titbebetterifsoandsodidsoandso?'or'Wouldn'titbe
awonderfulideaifthevictimwasAinsteadofB?OrthemurdererturnedouttobeDinsteadofE?'I
mean,onewantstosay:'Allrightthen,writeityourselfifyouwantitthatway!'"

Poirotnodded.

"Andthatiswhathasbeenhappening?"

"Notquite...Thatsortofsillysuggestionhasbeenmade,andthenI'veflaredup,andthey'vegivenin,
but have just slipped in some quite minor trivial suggestion and because I've made a stand over the
other,I'veacceptedthetrivialitywithoutnoticingmuch."

"Isee,"saidPoirot."Yes-itisamethod,that...Somethingrathercrudeandpreposterousisputforward
- but that is not really the point. The small minor alteration is really the objective. Is that what you
mean?"

"That'sexactlywhatImean,"saidMrsOliver."And,ofcourse,Imaybeimaginingit,butIdon'tthinkI
am-andnoneofthethingsseemtomatteranyway.Butit'sgotmeworried-that,andasortof-well-
atmosphere."

"Whohasmadethesesuggestionsofalterationstoyou?"

"Differentpeople,"saidMrsOliver."IfitwasjustonepersonI'dbemoresureofmyground.Butit'snot
just one person - although I think it is really. I mean it's one person working through other quite
unsuspectingpeople."

"Haveyouanideaastowhothatonepersonis?"

MrsOlivershookherhead.

"It'ssomebodyverycleverandverycareful,"shesaid."Itmightbeanybody."

"Whoisthere?"askedPoirot."Thecastofcharactersmustbefairlylimited?"

"Well," began Mrs Oliver. "There's Sir George Stubbs who owns this place. Rich and plebeian and
frightfully stupid outside business, I should think, but probably dead sharp in it. And there's Lady
Stubbs-Hattie-abouttwentyyearsyoungerthanheis,ratherbeautiful,butdumbasafish-infact,I
think she's definitely half-witted. Married him for his money, of course, and doesn't think about
anything but clothes and jewels. Then there's Michael Weyman - he's an architect, quite young, and
good-looking in a craggy kind of artistic way. He's designing a tennis pavilion for Sir George and
repairingtheFolly."

"Folly?Whatisthat-amasquerade?"

"No, it's architectural. One of those little sort of temple things, white, with columns. You've probably
seenthematKew.Thenthere'sMissBrewis,she'sasortofsecretaryhousekeeper,whorunsthingsand
writes letters - very grim and efficient. And then there are the people round about who come in and
help.Ayoungmarriedcouplewhohavetakenacottagedownbytheriver-AlecLeggeandhiswife
Sally.AndCaptainWarburton,who'stheMastertons'agent.AndtheMastertons,ofcourse,andoldMrs
Folliat who lives in what used to be the lodge. Her husband's people owned Nasse originally. But
they've died out, or been killed in wars, and there were lots of death duties so the last heir sold the
place."

Poirotconsideredthislistofcharacters,butatthemomenttheywereonlynamestohim.Hereturnedto
themainissue.

"WhoseideawastheMurderHunt?"

"MrsMasterton's,Ithink.She'sthelocalM.P.'swife,verygoodatorganising.Itwasshewhopersuaded
SirGeorgetohavethefêtehere.Youseetheplacehasbeenemptyforsomanyyearsthatshethinks
peoplewillbekeentopayandcomeintoseeit."

"Thatallseemsstraightforwardenough,"saidPoirot.

"It all seems straightforward," said Mrs Oliver obstinately; "but it isn't. I tell you, M. Poirot, there's
somethingwrong."

PoirotlookedatMrsOliverandMrsOliverlookedbackatPoirot.

"Howhaveyouaccountedformypresencehere?Foryoursummonstome?"Poirotasked.

"That was easy," said Mrs Oliver. "You're to give away the prizes for the Murder Hunt. Everybody's
awfullythrilled.IsaidIknewyou,andcouldprobablypersuadeyoutocomeandthatIwassureyour
namewouldbeaterrificdraw-as,ofcourseitwillbe,"MrsOliveraddedtactfully.

"Andthesuggestionwasaccepted-withoutdemur?"

"Itellyou,everybodywasthrilled."

Mrs Oliver thought it unnecessary to mention that amongst the younger generation one or two had
asked"WhoisHerculePoirot?"

"Everybody?Nobodyspokeagainstit?"

MrsOlivershookherhead.

"Thatisapity,"saidHerculePoirot.

"Youmeanitmighthavegivenusaline?"

"Awould-becriminalcouldhardlybeexpectedtowelcomemypresence."

"IsupposeyouthinkI'veimaginedthewholething,"saidMrsOliverruefully."ImustadmitthatuntilI
startedtalkingtoyouIhadn'trealisedhowverylittleI'vegottogoupon."

"Calmyourself,"saidPoirotkindly."Iamintriguedandinterested.Wheredowebegin?"

MrsOliverglancedatherwatch.

"It'sjusttea-time.We'llgobacktothehouseandthenyoucanmeeteverybody."

She took a different path from the one by which Poirot had come. This one seemed to lead in the
oppositedirection.

"Wepassbytheboathousethisway,"MrsOliverexplained.

Asshespoketheboathousecameintoview.Itjuttedoutontotheriverandwasapicturesquethatched
affair.

"That'swheretheBody'sgoingtobe,"saidMrsOliver."ThebodyfortheMurderHunt,Imean."

"Andwhoisgoingtobekilled?"

"Oh,agirlhiker,whoisreallytheYugoslavianfirstwifeofayoungAtomScientist,"saidMrsOliver
glibly.

Poirotblinked.

"OfcourseitlooksasthoughtheAtomScientisthadkilledher-butnaturallyit'snotassimpleasthat."

"Naturallynot-sinceyouareconcerned..."

MrsOliveracceptedthecomplimentwithawaveofthehand.

"Actually,"shesaid,"she'skilledbytheCountrySquire-andthemotiveisreallyratheringenious-I
don'tbelievemanypeoplewillgetit-thoughthere'saperfectlyclearpointerinthefifthclue."

PoirotabandonedthesubtletiesofMrsOliver'splottoaskapracticalquestion:

"Buthowdoyouarrangeforasuitablebody?"

"GirlGuide,"saidMrsOliver."SallyLeggewasgoingtobeit-butnowtheywanthertodressupina
turbananddothefortunetelling.Soit'saGirlGuidecalledMarleneTucker.Ratherdumbandsniffs,"
sheaddedinanexplanatorymanner."It'squiteeasy-justpeasantscarvesandarucksack-andallshe
hastodowhenshehearssomeonecomingistoflopdownonthefloorandarrangethecordroundher
neck.Ratherdullforthepoorkid-juststickinginsidethatboathouseuntilshe'sfound,butI'vearranged
forhertohaveanicebundleofcomics-there'sacluetothemurdererscribbledononeofthemasa
matteroffact-soitallworksin."

"Youringenuityleavesmespellbound!Thethingsyouthinkof!"

"It'sneverdifficulttothinkofthings,"saidMrsOliver."Thetroubleisthatyouthinkoftoomany,and
thenitallbecomestoocomplicated,soyouhavetorelinquishsomeofthemandthatisratheragony.
Wegoupthiswaynow."

Theystartedupasteepzig-zaggingpaththatledthembackalongtheriveratahigherlevel.Atatwist

through the trees they came out on a space surmounted by a small white pilastered temple. Standing
back and frowning at it was a young man wearing dilapidated flannel trousers and a shirt of rather
virulentgreen.Hespunroundtowardsthem.

"MrMichaelWeyman,M.HerculePoirot,"saidMrsOliver.

Theyoungmanacknowledgedtheintroductionwithacarelessnod.

"Extraordinary,"hesaidbitterly,"theplacespeopleputthings!Thisthinghere,forinstance.Putuponly
aboutayearago-quiteniceofitskindandquiteinkeepingwiththeperiodofthehouse.Butwhyhere?
Thesethingsweremeanttobeseen-'situatedonaneminence'-that'showtheyphrasedit-withanice
grassyapproachanddaffodils,etcetera.Buthere'sthispoorlittledevil,stuckawayinthemidstoftrees
-notvisiblefromanywhere-you'dhavetocutdownabouttwentytreesbeforeyou'devenseeitfrom
theriver."

"Perhapstherewasn'tanyotherplace,"saidMrsOliver.

MichaelWeymansnorted.

"Topofthatgrassybankbythehouse-perfectnaturalsetting.Butno,thesetycoonfellowsareallthe
same-noartisticsense.Hasafancyfora'Folly,'ashecallsit,ordersone.Looksroundforsomewhere
toputit.Then,Iunderstand,abigoaktreecrashesdowninagale.Leavesanastyscar.'Oh,we'lltidy
theplaceupbyputtingaFollythere,'saysthesillyass.That'salltheyeverthinkabout,theserichcity
fellows,tidyingup!Iwonderhehasn'tputbedsofredgeraniumsandcalceolariasallroundthehouse!
Amanlikethatshouldn'tbeallowedtoownaplacelikethis!"

Hesoundedheated.

"Thisyoungman,"Poirotobservedtohimself,"assuredlydoesnotlikeSirGeorgeStubbs."

"It's bedded down in concrete," said Weyman. "And there's loose soil underneath - so it's subsided.
Crackedalluphere-itwillbedangeroussoon...Betterpullthewholethingdownandre-erectitonthe
topofthebanknearthehouse.That'smyadvice,buttheobstinateoldfoolwon'thearofit."

"Whataboutthetennispavilion?"askedMrsOliver.

Gloomsettledevenmoredeeplyontheyoungman.

"HewantsakindofChinesepagoda,"hesaid,withagroan."Dragonsifyouplease!JustbecauseLady
Stubbs fancies herself in Chinese coolie hats. Who'd be an architect? Anyone who wants something
decentbuilthasn'tgotthemoney,andthosewhohavethemoneywantsomethingtooutterlygoddam
awful!"

"Youhavemycommiserations,"saidPoirotgravely.

"GeorgeStubbs,"saidthearchitectscornfully."Whodoeshethinkheis?Dughimselfintosomecushy
AdmiraltyjobinthesafedepthsofWalesduringthewar-andgrowsabeardtosuggesthesawactive
navalserviceonconvoyduty-orthat'swhattheysay.Stinkingwithmoney-absolutelystinking!"

"Well,youarchitectshavegottohavesomeonewho'sgotmoneytospend,oryou'dneverhaveajob,"
Mrs Oliver pointed out reasonably enough. She moved on towards the house and Poirot and the
dispiritedarchitectpreparedtofollowher.

"Thesetycoons,"saidthelatterbitterly,"can'tunderstandfirstprinciples."Hedeliveredafinalkickto
thelopsidedFolly."Ifthefoundationsarerotten-everything'srotten."

"Itisprofoundwhatyousaythere,"saidPoirot."Yes,itisprofound."

Thepaththeywerefollowingcameoutfromthetreesandthehouseshowewhiteandbeautifulbefore
theminitssettingofdarktreesrisingupbehindit.

"Itisofaveritablebeauty,yes,"murmuredPoirot.

"Hewantstobuildabilliardroomon,"saidMrWeymanvenomously.

On the bank below them a small elderly lady was busy with sécateurs on a clump of shrubs. She
climbeduptogreetthem,pantingslightly.

"Everythingneglectedforyears,"shesaid."Andsodifficultnowadaystogetamanwhounderstands
shrubs.ThishillsideshouldbeablazeofcolourinMarchandApril,butverydisappointingthisyear-
allthisdeadwoodoughttohavebeencutawaylastautumn-"

"M.HerculePoirot,MrsFolliat,"saidMrsOliver.

Theelderlyladybeamed.

"SothisisthegreatM.Poirot!Itiskindofyoutocomeandhelpustomorrow.Thiscleverladyherehas
thoughtoutamostpuzzlingproblem-itwillbesuchanovelty."

Poirotwasfaintlypuzzledbythegraciousnessofthelittlelady'smanner.Shemight,hethought,have
beenhishostess.

Hesaidpolitely:

"MrsOliverisanoldfriendofmine.Iwasdelightedtobeabletorespondtoherrequest.Thisisindeed
abeautifulspot,andwhatasuperbandnoblemansion."

MrsFolliatnoddedinamatter-of-factmanner.

"Yes. It was built by my husband's great-gandfather in 1790. There was an Elizabethan house
previously.Itfellintodisrepairandburneddowninabout1700.Ourfamilyhaslivedheresince1598."

Hervoicewascalmandmatteroffact.Poirotlookedatherwithcloserattention.Hesawacerysmall
and compact little person, dressed in shabby tweeds. The most noticeable feature about her was her
clearchina-blueeyes.Hergreyhairwascloselyconfinedbyahair-net.Thoughobviouslycarelessof
herappearance,shehadthatindefinableairofbeingsomeonewhichissohardtoexplain.

As they walked together towards the house, Poirot said diffidently, "It must be hard for you to have
strangerslivinghere."

There was a moment's pause before Mrs Folliat answered. Her voice was clear and precise and
curiouslydevoidofemotion.

"Somanythingsarehard,M.Poirot,"shesaid.

Chapter3

It was Mrs Folliat who led the way into the house and Poirot followed her. It was a gracious house,
beautifully proportioned. Mrs Folliat went through a door on the left into a small daintily furnished
sitting-roomandonintothebigdrawing-roombeyond,whichwasfullofpeoplewhoallseemed,atthe
moment,tobetalkingatonce.

"George," said Mrs Folliat. "This is M. Poirot who is so kind as to come and help us. Sir George
Stubbs."

SirGeorgewhohadbeentalkinginaloudvoice,swunground.Hewasabigmanwitharatherflorid
redfaceandaslightlyunexpectedbeard.Itgavearatherdisconcertingeffectofanactorwhohadnot
quitemadeuphismindwhetherhewasplayingthepartofacountrysquire,orofa"roughdiamond"
fromtheDominions.Itcertainlydidnotsuggestthenavy,inspiteofMichaelWeyman'sremarks.His
manner and voice were jovial, but his eyes were small and shrewd, of a particularly penetrating pale
blue.

HegreetedPoirotheartily.

"We'resogladthatyourfriendMrsOlivermanagedtopersuadeyoutocome,"hesaid."Quiteabrain-
waveonherpart.You'llbeanenormousattraction."

Helookedroundalittlevaguely.

"Hattie?"Herepeatedthenameinaslightlysharpertone."Hattie!"

LadyStubbswasreclininginabigarm-chairalittledistancefromtheothers.Sheseemedtobepaying
no attention to what was going on round her. Instead she was smiling down at her hand which was
stretchedoutonthearmofthechair.Shewasturningitfromlefttoright,sothatabigsolitaireemerald
onherthirdfingercaughtthelightinitsgreendepths.

Shelookedupnowinaslightlystartledchildlikewayandsaid,"Howdoyoudo."

Poirotbowedoverherhand.

SirGeorgecontinuedhisintroductions.

"MrsMasterton."

MrsMastertonwasasomewhatmonumentalwomanwhoremindedPoirotfaintlyofabloodhound.She
hadafullunderhungjawandlarge,mournful,slightlybloodshoteyes.

ShebowedandresumedherdiscourseinadeepvoicewhichagainmadePoirotthinkofabloodhound's
bayingnote.

"Thissillydisputeabouttheteatenthasgottobesettled,Jim,"shesaidforcefully."They'vegottosee
senseaboutit.Wecan'thavethewholeshowafiascobecauseoftheseidioticwomen'slocalfeuds."

"Oh,quite,"saidthemanaddressed.

"CaptainWarburton,"saidSirGeorge.

CaptainWarburtonwhoworeachecksportscoatandhadavaguelyhorsyappearance,showedalotof
whiteteethinasomewhatwolfishsmile,thencontinuedhisconversation.

"Don't you worry, I'll settle it," he said. "I'll go and talk to them like a Dutch uncle. What about the
fortune-tellingtent?Inthespacebythemagnolia?Oratthefarendofthelawnbytherhododendrons?"

SirGeorgecontinuedhisintroductions.

"MrandMrsLegge."

A tall young man with his face peeling badly from sunburn grinned agreeably. His wife, an attractive
freckledredheadnoddedinafriendlyfashion,thenplungedintocontroversywithMrsMasterton,her
agreeablehightreblemakingakindofduetwithMrsMasterton'sdeepbay.

"-notbythemagnolia-abottleneck-"

"-onewantstodispersethings-butifthere'saqueue-"

"-muchcooler.Imean,withthesunfullonthehouse-"

"-andthecoconutshycan'tbetoonearthehouse-theboysaresowildwhentheythrow-"

"Andthis,"saidSirGeorge,"isMissBrewis-whorunsusall."

MissBrewiswasseatedbehindthelargesilverteatray.

Shewasaspareefficient-lookingwomanofforty-odd,withabriskpleasantmanner.

"Howdoyoudo,M.Poirot,"shesaid."Idohopeyoudidn'thavetoocrowdedajourney?Thetrainsare
sometimestooterriblethistimeofyear.Letmegiveyousometea.Milk?Sugar?"

"Very little milk, mademoiselle, and four lumps of sugar." He added, as Miss Brewis dealt with his
request,"Iseethatyouareallinagreatstateofactivity."

"Yes, indeed. There are always so many last-minute things to see to. And people let one down in the
most extraordinary way nowadays. Over marquees, and tents and chairs and catering equipment. One
hastokeeponatthem.Iwasonthetelephonehalfthemorning."

"Whataboutthesepegs,Amanda?"saidSirGeorge."Andtheextraputtersfortheclockgolf."

"That'sallarranged,SirGeorge.MrBensonatthegolfclubwasmostkind."

ShehandedPoirothiscup.

"Asandwich,M.Poirot?Thosearetomatoandthesearepâté.Butperhaps,"saidMissBrewis,thinking
ofthefourlumpsofsugar,"youwouldratherhaveacreamcake?"

Poirotwouldratherhaveacreamcake,andhelpedhimselftoaparticularlysweetandsquelchyone.

Then,balancingitcarefullyonhissaucer,hewentandsatdownbyhishostess.Shewasstilllettingthe
lightplayoverthejewelonherhand,andshelookedupathimwithapleasedchild'ssmile.

"Look,"shesaid."It'spretty,isn'tit?"

He had been studying her carefully. She was wearing a big coolie style hat of vivid magenta straw.
Beneathitherfaceshoweditspinkyreflectiononthedead-whitesurfaceofherskin.Shewasheavily
made up in an exotic un-English style. Dead-white matt skin, vivid cyclamen lips, mascara applied
lavishlytotheeyes.Herhairshowedbeneaththehat,blackandsmooth,fittinglikeavelvetcap.There
wasalanguorousun-Englishbeautyabouttheface.Shewasacreatureofthetropicalsun,caught,asit
were, by chance in an English drawing-room. But it was the eyes that startled Poirot. They had a
childlikealmostvacantstare.

She had asked her question in a confidential childish way, and it was as though to a child that Poirot
answered.

"Itisaverylovelyring,"hesaid.

Shelookedpleased.

"Georgegaveittomeyesterday,"shesaid,droppinghervoiceasthoughsheweresharingasecretwith
him."Hegivesmelotsofthings.He'sverykind."

Poirotlookeddownattheringagainandthehandoutstretchedonthesideofthechair.Thenailswere
verylongandvarnishedadeeppuce.

Intohismindaquotationcame:"Theytoilnot,neitherdotheyspin..."

Hecertainlycouldn'timagineLadyStubbstoilingorspinning.Andyethewouldhardlyhavedescribed
herasalilyofthefield.Shewasafarmoreartificialproduct.

"Thisisabeautifulroomyouhavehere,Madame,"hesaid,lookingroundappreciatively.

"Isupposeitis,"saidLadyStubbsvaguely.

Herattentionwasstillonherring;herheadononeside,shewatchedthegreenfireinitsdepthsasher
handmoved.

Shesaidinaconfidentialwhisper:"D'yousee?It'swinkingatme."

SheburstoutlaughingandPoirothadasenseofsuddenshock.Itwasalouduncontrolledlaugh.

FromacrosstheroomSirGeorgesaid:"Hattie."

Hisvoicewasquitekindbutheldafaintadmonition.LadyStubbsstoppedlaughing.

Poirotsaidinaconventionalmanner:

"Devonshireisaverylovelycounty.Doyounotthinkso?"

"It'sniceinthedaytime,"saidLadyStubbs."Whenitdoesn'train,"sheaddedmournfully."Butthere
aren'tanynightclubs."

"Ah,Isee.Youlikenight-clubs?"

"Oh,yes"saidLadyStubbsfervently.

"Andwhydoyoulikenight-clubssomuch?"

"Thereismusicandyoudance.AndIwearmynicestclothesandbraceletsandrings.Andalltheother
womenhaveniceclothesandjewels,butnotasniceasmine."

Shesmiledwithenormoussatisfaction.Poirotfeltaslightpangofpity.

"Andallthatamusesyouverymuch?"

"Yes.Ilikethecasino,too.WhyaretherenotanycasinosinEngland?"

"I have often wondered," said Poirot, with a sigh. "I do not think it would accord with the English
character."

Shelookedathimuncomprehendingly.Thenshebentslightlytowardshim.

"IwonsixtythousandfrancsatMonteCarloonce.Iputitonnumbertwenty-sevenanditcameup."

"Thatmusthavebeenveryexciting,Madame."

"Oh,itwas.Georgegivesmemoneytoplaywith-butusuallyIloseit."

Shelookeddisconsolate.

"Thatissad."

"Oh,itdoesnotreallymatter.GeorgeisveryrichItisnicetoberich,don'tyouthinkso?"

"Verynice,"saidPoirotgently.

"Perhaps,ifIwasnotrich,IshouldlooklikeAmanda."HergazewenttoMissBrewisattheteatable
andstudiedherdispassionately."Sheisveryugly,don'tyouthink?"

Miss Brewis looked up at the moment and across to where they were sitting. Lady Stubbs had not
spokenloudly,butPoirotwonderedwhetherAmandaBrewishadheard.

Ashewithdrewhisgaze,hiseyesmetthoseofCaptainWarburton.TheCaptain'sglancewasironicand
amused.

Poirotendeavouredtochangethesubject.

"Haveyoubeenverybusypreparingforthefête?"heasked.

HattieStubbsshookherhead.

"Oh, no, I think it is all very boring - very stupid. There are servants and gardeners. Why should not
theymakethepreparations?"

"Oh,mydear."ItwasMrsFolliatwhospoke.Shehadcometositonthesofanearby."Thosearethe
ideasyouwerebroughtupwithonyourislandestates.Butlifeisn'tlikethatinEnglandthesedays.I
wishitwere."Shesighed."Nowadaysonehastodonearlyeverythingoneself."

LadyStubbsshruggedhershoulders.

"Ithinkitisstupid.Whatisthegoodofbeingrichifonehastodoeverythingoneself?"

"Somepeoplefinditfun,"saidMrsFolliat,smilingather."Idoreally.Notallthings,butsome.Ilike
gardeningmyselfandIlikepreparingforafestivitylikethisonetomorrow."

"Itwillbelikeaparty?"askedLadyStubbshopefully.

"Justlikeaparty-withlotsandlotsofpeople."

"WillitbelikeAscot?Withbighatsandeveryoneverychic?"

"Well,notquitelikeAscot,"saidMrsFolliat.Sheaddedgently,"Butyoumusttryandenjoycountry
things,Hattie.Youshouldhavehelpedusthismorning,insteadofstayinginbedandnotgettingupuntil
teatime."

"I had a headache," said Hattie sulkily. Then her mood changed and she smiled affectionately at Mrs
Folliat.

"ButIwillbegoodtomorrow.Iwilldoeverythingyoutellme."

"That'sverysweetofyou,dear."

"I'vegotanewdresstowear.Itcamethismorning.Comeupstairswithmeandlookatit."

MrsFolliathesitated.LadyStubbsrosetoherfeetandsaidinsistently:

"Youmustcome.Please.Itisalovelydress.Comenow!"

"Oh,verywell."MrsFolliatgaveahalf-laughandrose.

Asshewentoutoftheroom,hersmallfigurefollowingHattie'stallone,Poirotsawherfaceandwas
quitestartledatthewearinessonitwhichhadreplacedhersmilingcomposure.Itwasasthough,relaxed
andoffherguardforamoment,shenolongerbotheredtokeepupthesocialmask.Andyet-itseemed
more than that. Perhaps she was suffering from some disease about which, like many women do, she
neverspoke.Shewasnotaperson,hethought,whowouldcaretoinvitepityorsympathy.

Captain Warburton dropped down in the chair Hattie Stubbs had just vacated. He, too, looked at the
doorthroughwhichthetwowomenhadjustpassed,butitwasnotoftheolderwomanthathespoke.
Insteadhedrawled,withaslightgrin:

"Beautifulcreature,isn'tshe?"HeobservedwiththetailofhiseyeSirGeorge'sexitthroughafrench
window with Mrs Masterton and Mrs Oliver in tow. "Bowled over old George Stubbs all right.
Nothing'stoogoodforher!Jewels,mink,alltherestofit.Whetherherealisesshe'sabitwantinginthe
top story, I've never discovered. Probably thinks it doesn't matter. After all, these financial johnnies
don'taskforintellectualcompanionship."

"Whatnationalityisshe?"Poirotaskedcuriously.

"Looks South American, I always think. But I believe she comes from the West Indies. One of those
islands with sugar and rum and all that. One of the old families there - a creole, I don't mean a half-
caste.Allveryintermarried,Ibelieve,ontheseislands.Accountsforthementaldeficiency."

YoungMrsLeggecameovertojointhem.

"Lookhere,Jim,"shesaid,"you'vegottobeonmyside.Thattent'sgottobewherewealldecided-on
thefarsideofthelawnbackingontherhododendrons.It'stheonlypossibleplace."

"MaMastertondoesn'tthinkso."

"Well,you'vegottotalkheroutofit."

Hegaveherhisfoxysmile.

"MrsMasterton'smyboss."

"WilfredMasterton'syourboss.He'stheM.P."

"Idaresay,butsheshouldbe.She'stheonewhowearsthepants-anddon'tIknowit."

SirGeorgere-enteredthewindow.

"Oh,thereyouare.Sally,"hesaid."Weneedyou.Youwouldn'tthinkeveryonecouldgethetupover
who butters the buns and who raffles a cake, and why the garden produce stall is where the fancy
woollenswaspromiseditshouldbe.Where'sAmyFolliat?Shecandealwiththesepeople-aboutthe
onlypersonwhocan."

"ShewentupstairswithHattie."

"Oh,didshe-?"

SirGeorgelookedroundinavaguelyhelplessmannerandMissBrewisjumpedupfromwhereshewas
writingtickets,andsaid,"I'llfetchherforyou,SirGeorge."

"Thankyou,Amanda."

MissBrewiswentoutoftheroom.

"Mustgetholdofsomemorewirefencing,"murmuredSirGeorge.

"Forthefête?"

"No,no.ToputupwhereweadjoinHoodownParkinthewoods.Theoldstuff'srottedaway,andthat's
wheretheygetthrough."

"Whogetthrough?"

"Trespassers!"ejaculatedSirGeorge.

SallyLeggesaidamusedly:

"YousoundlikeBetsyTrotwoodcampaigningagainstdonkeys."

"BetsyTrotwood?Who'sshe?"askedSirGeorgesimply.

"Dickens."

"Oh,Dickens.IreadthePickwickPapersonce.Notbad.Notbadatall-surprisedme.But,seriously,
trespassersareamenacesincethey'vestartedthisYouthHosteltomfoolery.Theycomeoutatyoufrom
everywhere wearing the most incredible shirts - boy this morning had one all covered with crawling
turtles and things - made me think I'd been hitting the bottle or something. Half of them can't speak
English-justgibberatyou..."Hemimicked:"'Oh,plees-yes,hafyou-tellme-isswaytoferry?'Isay
no,itisn't,roaratthem,andsendthembackwherethey'vecomefrom,buthalfthetimetheyjustblink
and stare and don't understand. And the girls giggle. All kinds of nationalities, Italian, Yugoslavian,
Dutch, Finnish - Eskimos I shouldn't be surprised! Half of them communists, I shouldn't wonder," he
endeddarkly.

"Come now, George, don't get started on communists," said Mrs Legge. "I'll come and help you deal
withtherabidwomen."

She led him out of the window and called over her shoulder: "Come on, Jim. Come and be torn to
piecesinagoodcause."

"Allright,butIwanttoputM.PoirotinthepictureabouttheMurderHuntsincehe'sgoingtopresent
theprizes."

"Youcandothatpresently."

"Iwillawaityouhere,"saidPoirotagreeably.

Intheensuingsilence,AlecLeggeStretchedhimselfoutinhischairandsighed.

"Women!"hesaid."Likeaswarmofbees."

Heturnedhisheadtolookoutofhewindow.

"Andwhat'sitallabout?Somesillygardenfêtethatdoesn'tmattertoanyone."

"Butobviously,"Poirotpointedout,"therearethosetowhomitdoesmatter."

"Whycan'tpeoplehavesomesense?Whycan'ttheythink?Thinkofthemessthewholeworldhasgot
itselfinto.Don'ttheyrealisethattheinhabitantsoftheglobearebusycommittingsuicide?"

Poirot judged rightly that he was not intended to reply to this question. He merely shook his head
doubtfully.

"Unlesswecandosomethingbeforeit'stoolate..."AlecLeggebrokeoff.Anangrylooksweptoverhis
face."Oh,yes,"hesaid,"Iknowwhatyou'rethinking.ThatI'mnervy,neurotic-alltherestofit.Like
thosedamneddoctors.Advisingrestandchangeandseaair.Allright.SallyandIcamedownhereand
tooktheMillCottageforthreemonths,andI'vefollowedtheirprescription.I'vefishedandbathedand
takenlongwalksandsunbathed-"

Inoticedthatyouhadsunbathed,yes,"saidPoirotpolitely.

"Oh,this?"Alec'shandwenttohissoreface."That'stheresultofafineEnglishsummerforonceina
way.Butwhat'sthegoodofitall?Youcan'tgetawayfromfacingtruthjustbyrunningawayfromit."

"No,itisneveranygoodrunningaway."

"And being in a rural atmosphere like this just makes you realise things more keenly - that and the
incredible apathy of the people of this country. Even Sally who's intelligent enough, is just the same.
Whybother?That'swhatshesays.Itmakesmemad!Whybother?"

"Asamatterofinterest,whydoyou?"

"GoodGod,youtoo?"

"No,itisnotadvice.ItisjustthatIwouldliketoknowyouranswer."

"Don'tyousee,somebody'sgottodosomething?"

"Andthatsomebodyisyou?"

"No,no,notmepersonally.Onecan'tbepersonalintimeslikethese."

"Idonotseewhynot.Evenin'thesetimes'asyoucallit,oneisstillaperson."

"Butoneshouldn'tbe!Intimesofstress,whenit'samatteroflifeordeath,onecan'tthinkofone'sown
insignificantillsorpreoccupations."

"Iassureyou,youarequitewrong.Inthelatewar,duringasevereair-raid,Iwasmuchlesspreoccupied
bythethoughtofdeaththanofthepainfromacornonmylittletoe.Itsurprisedmeatthetimethatit
shouldbeso.'Think,'Isaidtomyself,'atanymomentnow,deathmaycome.'ButIwasstillconscious
ofmycorn-indeed,IfeltinjuredthatIshouldhavethattosufferaswellasthefearofdeath.Itwas
becauseImightdiethateverysmallpersonalmatterinmylifeacquiredincreasedimportance.Ihave
seen a woman knocked down in a street accident, with a broken leg, and she has burst out crying
becausesheseesthatthereisaladderinherstocking."

"Whichjustshowsyouwhatfoolswomenare!"

"It shows you what people are. It is, perhaps, that absorption in one's personal life that has led the
humanracetosurvive."

AlecLeggegaveascornfullaugh.

"Sometimes,"hesaid,"Ithinkit'sapitytheyeverdid."

"Itis,youknow,"Poirotpersisted,"aformofhumility.Andhumilityisvaluable.Therewasaslogan
thatwaswrittenupinyourundergroundrailwayshere,Iremember,duringthewar.'Italldependson

you.' It was composed, I think, by some eminent divine - but in my opinion it was a dangerous and
undesirabledoctrine.Foritisnottrue.Everythingdoesnotdependon,say,MrsBlankofLittle-Blank-
in-the-Marsh.Andifsheisledtothinkitdoes,itwillnotbegoodforhercharacter.Whileshethinksof
thepartshecanplayinworldaffairs,thebabypullsoverthekettle."

"Youareratherold-fashionedinyourviews,Ithink.Let'shearwhatyoursloganwouldbe."

"I do not need to formulate one of my own. There is an older one in this country which contents me
verywell."

"Whatisthat?"

"'PutyourtrustinGod,andkeepyourpowderdry.'"

"Well,well..."AlecLeggeseemedamused."Mostunexpectedcomingfromyou.DoyouknowwhatI
shouldliketoseedoneinthiscountry?"

"Something,nodoubt,forcefulandunpleasant,"saidPoirot,smiling.

AlecLeggeremainedserious.

"I should like to see every feeble-minded person put out - right out! Don't let them breed. If, for one
generation,onlytheintelligentwereallowedtobreed,thinkwhattheresultwouldbe."

Averylargeincreaseofpatientsinthepsychiatricwards,perhaps,"saidPoirotdryly."Oneneedsroots
aswellasflowersonaplant,M.Legge.Howeverlargeandbeautifultheflowers,iftheearthyrootsare
destroyedtherewillbenomoreflowers."Headdedinaconversationaltone:"WouldyouconsiderLady
Stubbsacandidateforthelethalchamber?"

"Yes,indeed.What'sthegoodofawomanlikethat?Whatcontributionhassheevermadetosociety?
Has she ever had an idea in her head that wasn't of clothes or furs or jewels? As I say, what good is
she?"

"YouandI,"saidPoirotblandly,"arecertainlymuchmoreintelligentthanLadyStubbs.But-"heshook
hisheadsadly-"itistrue,Ifear,thatwearenotnearlysoornamental."

"Ornamental..."Alecwasbeginningwithafiercesnort,buthewasinterruptedbythere-entryofMrs
OliverandCaptainWarburtonthroughthewindow.

Chapter4

"You must come and see the clues and things for the Murder Hunt, M. Poirot," said Mrs Oliver
breathlessly.

Poirotroseandfollowedthemobediently.

Thethreeofthemwentacrossthehallandintoasmallroomfurnishedplainlyasabusinessoffice.

"Lethal weapons to your left," observed Captain Warburton waving his hand towards a small baize-
coveredcardtable.Onitwerelaidoutasmallpistol,apieceofleadpipingwitharustysinisterstainon
it,abluebottlelabelledPoison,alengthofclotheslineandahypodermicsyringe.

"ThosearetheWeapons,"explainedMrsOliver,"andthesearetheSuspects."

Shehandedhimaprintedcardwhichhereadwithinterest.

SUSPECTS

EstelleGlynne-abeautifulandmysteriousyoungwoman,theguestof

ColonelBlunt-thelocalSquire,whosedaughter

Joan-ismarriedto

PeterGaye-ayoungAtomScientist.

MissWilling-ahousekeeper.

Quiett-abutler.

MayaStavisky-agirlhiker.

EstebanLoyola-anuninvitedguest.

PoirotblinkedandlookedtowardsMrsOliverinmuteincomprehension.

"A magnificent Cast of Characters," he said politely. "But permit me to ask, Madame, what does the
Competitordo?"

"Turnthecardover,"saidCaptainWarburton.

Poirotdidso.

Ontheothersidewasprinted:

Nameandaddress:______

Solution:

NameofMurderer:______

Weapon:______

Motive:______

TimeandPlace:______

Reasonsforarrivingatyourconclusions:______

"Everyonewhoentersgetsoneofthese,"explainedCaptainWarburtonrapidly."Alsoanotebookand
pencilforcopyingclues.Therewillbesixclues.YougoonfromonetotheotherlikeaTreasureHunt,
andtheweaponsareconcealedinsuspiciousplaces.Here'sthefirstclue.Asnapshot.Everyonestarts
withoneofthese."

Poirottookthesmallprintfromhimandstudieditwithafrown.Thenheturneditupsidedown.Hestill
lookedpuzzled.Warburtonlaughed.

"Ingeniousbitoftrickphotography,isn'tit?"hesaidcomplacently."Quitesimpleonceyouknowwhat
itis."

Poirot,whodidnotknowwhatitwas,feltamountingannoyance.

"Somekindofbarredwindow?"hesuggested.

"Looksabitlikeit,Iadmit.No,it'sasectionofatennisnet."

"Ah."Poirotlookedagainatthesnapshot."Yes,itisasyousay-quiteobviouswhenyouhavebeentold
whatitis!"

"Somuchdependsonhowyoulookatathing,"laughedWarburton.

"Thatisaveryprofoundtruth."

"The second clue will be found in a box under the centre of the tennis net. In the box are this empty
poisonbottle-here,andaloosecork."

"Only,yousee,"saidMrsOliverrapidly,"it'sascrew-toppedbottle,sothecorkisreallytheclue."

"Iknow,Madame,thatyouarealwaysfullofingenuity,butIdonotquitesee-"

MrsOliverinterruptedhim.

"Oh, but of course," she said, "there's a story. Like in a magazine serial - a synopsis." She turned to
CaptainWarburton."Haveyougottheleaflets?"

"They'venotcomefromtheprintersyet."

"Buttheypromised!"

"I know. I know. Everyone always promises. They'll be ready this evening at six. I'm going to fetch
theminthecar."

"Oh,good."

MrsOlivergaveadeepsighndturnedtoPoirot.

"Well,I'llhavetotellityou,then.OnlyI'mnotverygoodattellingthings.ImeanifIwritethings,Iget
them perfectly clear, but if I talk, it always sounds the most frightful muddle; and that's why I never
discussmyplotswithanyone.I'velearntnotto,becauseifIdo,theyjustlookatmeblanklyandsay-er
-yes,but-Idon'tseewhathappened-andsurelythatcan'tpossiblymakeabook.'Sodamping.And
nottrue,becausewhenIwriteit,itdoes!"

MrsOliverpausedforbreath,andthenwenton:

"Well,it'slikethis.There'sPeterGayewho'sayoungAtomScientistandhe'ssuspectofbeinginthe
payoftheCommunists,andhe'smarriedtothisgirl,JoanBlunt,andhisfirstwife'sdead,butsheisn't,
andsheturnsupbecauseshe'sasecretagent,orperhapsnot,Imeanshemayreallybeahiker-andthe
wife's having an affair, and this man Loyola turns up either to meet Maya, or to spy upon her, and
there'sablackmailingletterwhichmightbefromthehousekeeper,oragainitmightbethebutler,and
the revolver's missing, and as you don't know who the blackmailing letter's to, and the hypodermic
syringefelloutatdinner,andafterthatitdisappeared..."

MrsOlivercametoafullstop,estimatingcorrectlyPoirot'sreaction.

"Iknow,"shesaidsympathetically."Itsoundsjustamuddle,butitisn'treally-notinmyhead-and
whenyouseethesynopsisleaflet,you'llfindit'squiteclear.

"And,anyway,"sheended,"thestorydoesn'treallymatter,doesit?Imean,nottoyou.Allyou'vegotto
doistopresenttheprizes-veryniceprizes,thefirst'sasilvercigarettecaseshapedlikearevolver-and
sayhowremarkablycleverthesolverhasbeen."

Poirotthoughttohimselfthatthesolverwouldindeedhavebeenclever.Infact,hedoubtedverymuch
that there would be a solver. The whole plot and action of the Murder Hunt seemed to him to be
wrappedinimpenetrablefog.

"Well,"saidCaptainWarburtoncheerfully,glancingathiswrist-watch."I'dbetterbeofftotheprinters
andcollect."

MrsOlivergroaned.

"Ifthey'renotdone-"

"Oh,they'redoneallright.Itelephoned.Solong."

Helefttheroom.

MrsOliverimmediatelyclutchedPoirotbythearmanddemandedinahoarsewhisper:

"Well?"

"Well-what?"

"Haveyoufoundoutanything?Orspottedanybody?"

Poirotrepliedwithmildreproofinhistones:

"Everybodyandeverythingseemstomecompletelynormal."

"Normal?"

"Well,perhapsthatisnotquitetherightword.LadyStubbs,asyousay,isdefinitelysubnormal,andMr
Leggewouldappeartoberatherabnormal."

"Oh,he'sallright,"saidMrsOliverimpatiently."He'shadanervousbreakdown."

Poirotdidnotquestionthesomewhatdoubtfulwordingofthissentencebutaccepteditatitsfacevalue.

"Everybodyappearstobeintheexpectedstateofnervousagitation,highexcitement,generalfatigue,
andstrongirritationwhicharecharacteristicofpreparationforthisformofentertainment.Ifyoucould
onlyindicate-"

"Sh!"MrsOlivergraspedhisarmagain."Someone'scoming."

Itwasjustlikeabadmelodrama,Poirotfelt,hisownirritationmounting.

ThepleasantmildfaceofMissBrewisappearedroundthedoor.

"Oh,thereyouare,M.Poirot.I'vebeenlookingforyoutoshowyouyourroom."

Sheledhimupthestaircaseandalongapassagetoabigairyroomlookingoutovertheriver.

"There is a bathroom just opposite. Sir George talks of adding more bathrooms, but to do so would
sadlyimpairtheproportionsoftherooms.Ihopeyou'llfindeverythingquitecomfortable."

"Yes,indeed."Poirotsweptanappreciativeeyeoverthesmallbookstand,thereading-lampandthebox
labelled"Biscuits"bythebedside."Youseem,inthishouse,tohaveeverythingorganisedtoperfection.
AmItocongratulateyou,ormycharminghostess?"

"LadyStubb'stimeisfullytakenupinbeingcharming,"saidMissBrewis,aslightlyacidnoteinher

voice.

"Averydecorativeyoungwoman,"musedPoirot.

"Asyousay."

"But in other respects is she not, perhaps..." He broke off. "Pardon. I am indiscreet. I comment on
somethingIoughtnot,perhaps,tomention."

MissBrewisgavehimasteadylook.Shesaiddryly:

"Lady Stubbs knows perfectly well exactly what she is doing. Besides being, as you said, a very
decorativeyoungwoman,sheisalsoaveryshrewdone."

ShehadturnedawayandlefttheroombeforePoirot'seyebrowshadfullyriseninsurprise.Sothatwas
whattheefficientMissBrewisthought,wasit?Orhadshemerelysaidsoforsomereasonofherown?
And why had she made such a statement to him - to a newcomer? Because he was a newcomer,
perhaps?Andalsobecausehewasaforeigner.AsHerculePoirothaddiscoveredbyexperience,there
weremanyEnglishpeoplewhoconsideredthatwhatonesaidtoforeignersdidn'tcount!

Hefrownedperplexedly,staringabsentmindedlyatthedooroutofwhichMissBrewishadgone.Then
hestrolledovertothewindowandstoodlookingout.Ashedidso,hesawLadyStubbscomeoutofthe
housewithMrsFolliatandtheystoodforamomentortwotalkingbythebigmagnoliatree.ThenMrs
Folliat nodded a good-bye, picked up her gardening basket and glove and trotted off down the drive.
LadyStubbsstoodwatchingherforamomentthenabsentmindedlypulledoffamagnoliaflower,smelt
itandbeganslowlytowalkdownthepaththatledthoughthetreestotheriver.Stlookedjustonceover
hershoulderbeforeshedisappearedfromsight.FrombehindthemagnoliatreeMichaelWeymancame
quietly into view, paused a moment irresolutely and then followed the tall slim figure down into the
trees.

Agood-lookinganddynamicyoungman,Poirotthought,withamoreattractivepersonality,nodoubt,
thanthatofSirGeorgeStubbs...

But if so, what of it? Such patterns formed themselves eternally through life. Rich middle-aged
unattractive husband, young and beautiful wife with or without sufficient mental development,
attractive and susceptible young man. What was there in that to make Mrs Oliver utter a peremptory
summonsthroughthetelephone?MrsOliver,nodoubt,hadavividimagination,but...

"Butafterall,"murmuredHerculePoirottohimself,"Iamnotaconsultantinadultery-orinincipient
adultery-"

CouldtherereallybeanythinginthisextraordinarynotionofMrsOliver'sthatsomethingwaswrong?
MrsOliverwasasingularlymuddle-headedwoman,andhowshemanagedsomehoworothertoturn
out coherent detective stories was beyond him, and yet, for all her muddle-headedness she often
surprisedhimbyhersuddenperceptionoftruth.

"The time is short - short," he murmured to himself, "Is there something wrong here, as Mrs Oliver
believes? I am inclined to think there is. But what? Who is there who could enlighten me? I need to
knowmore,muchmore,aboutthepeopleinthishouse.Whoistherewhocouldinformme?"

After a moment's reflection he seized his hat (Poirot never risked going out in the evening air with
uncoveredhead),andhurriedoutofhisroomanddownthestairs.Heheardafarthedictatorialbaying
ofMrsMasterton'sdeepvoice.Nearerathand,SirGeorge'svoicerosewithanamorousintonation.

"Damnedbecomingthatyasmakthing.WishIhadyouinmyharem,Sally.Ishallcomeandhavemy
fortunetoldagooddealtomorrow.What'llyoutellme,eh?"

TherewasaslightscuffleandSallyLegge'svoicesaidbreathlessly:

"George,youmustn't."

Poirotraisedhiseyebrows,andslippedoutofaconvenientlyadjacentsidedoor.Hesetoffattopspeed
downabackdrivewhichhissenseoflocalityenabledhimtopredictwouldatsomepointjointhefront
drive.

Hismanoeuvrewassuccessfulandenabledhim-pantingveryslightly-tocomeupbesideMrsFolliat
andrelieveherinagallantmannerofhergardeningbasket.

"Youpermit,Madame?"

"Oh,thankyou,M.Poirot,that'sverykindofyou.Butit'snotheavy."

"Allowmetocarryitforyoutoyourhome.Youlivenearhere?"

"Iactuallyliveinthelodgebythefrontgate.SirGeorgeverykindlyrentsittome."

Thelodgebythefrontgateofherformerhome...Howdidshereallyfeelaboutthat,Poirotpondered.
Her composure was so absolute that he had no clue to her feelings. He changed the subject by
observing:

"LadyStubbsismuchyoungerthanherhusband,isshenot?"

"Twenty-threeyearsyounger."

"Physicallysheisveryattractive."

MrsFolliatsaidquietly:

"Hattieisadeargoodchild."

Itwasnotananswerhehadexpected.MrsFolliatwenton:

"Iknowherverywell,yousee.Forashorttimeshewasundermycare."

"Ididnotknowthat."

"Howshouldyou?Itisinawayasadstory.Herpeoplehadestates,sugarestates,intheWestIndies.As
aresultofanearthquake,thehousetherewasburneddownandherparentsandbrothersandsistersall
lost their lives. Hattie herself was at a convent in Paris and was thus suddenly left without any near
relatives.ItwasconsideredadvisablebytheexecutorsthatHattieshouldbechaperonedandintroduced
intosocietyaftershehadspentacertaintimeabroad.Iacceptedchargeofher."MrsFolliataddedwita
dry smile: "I can smarten myself up on occasions and, naturally, I had the necessary connections - in
fact,thelateGovernorhadbeenaclosefriendofours."

"Naturally,MadameIunderstandallthat."

"It suited me very well - I was going through a difficult time. My husband had died just before the
outbreakofwar.Myeldersonwhowasinthenavywentdownwithhisship,myyoungerson,whohad

beenoutinKenya,cameback,joinedthecommandosandwaskilledinItaly.Thatmeantlotsofdeath
duties and this house had to be put up for sale. I myself was very badly off and I as glad of the
distractionofhavingsomeoneyoungtoafterandtravelaboutwith.IbecameveryfondofHattie,allthe
more perhaps, because I soon realised that she was - shall we say - not fully capable of fending for
herself? Understand me, M. Poirot, Hattie is not mentally deficient, but she is what country folk
describe as 'simple.' She is easily imposed upon, over docely, completely open to suggestion. I think
myself that it was a blessing there was practically no money. If she had been an heiress her position
mighthavebeenoneofmuchgreaterdifficulty.Shewasattractivetomenandbeingofanaffectionate
naturewaseasilyattractedandinfluenced-shehaddefinitelytobelookedafter.Whenafterthefinal
winding up of her parents estate it was discovered that the plantation was destroyed and there were
moredebtsthanassets,IcouldonlybethankfulthatamansuchasSirGeorgeStubbshadfalleninlove
withherandwantedtomarryher."

"Possibly-yes-itwasasolution."

"SirGeorge,"saidMrsFolliat,"thoughheisaself-mademanand-letusfaceit-acompletevulgarian,
is kindly and fundamentally decent, besides being extremely wealthy. I don't think he would ever ask
formentalcompanionshipfromawife,whichisjustaswell.Hattieiseverythinghewants.Shedisplays
clothesandjewelstoperfection,isaffectionateandwilling,andiscompletelyhappywithhim.Iconfess
thatIamverythankfulthatthatisso,forIadmitthatIdeliberatelyinfluencedhertoaccepthim.Ifit
hadturnedoutbadly-"hervoicefalteredalittle-"itwouldhavebeenmyfaultforurginghertomarry
amansomanyyearsolderthanherself.Yousee,asItoldyou,Hattieiscompletelysuggestible.Anyone
sheiswithatthetimecandominateher."

"Itseemstome,"saidPoirotapprovingly,"thatyoumadethereamostprudentarrangementforher.I
amnot,liketheEnglish,romantic.Toarrangeagoodmarriage,onemusttakemorethanromanceinto
consideration."

Headded:

"Andasforthisplacehere,NasseHouse,itisamostbeautifulspot.Quite,asthesayinggoes,outof
thisworld."

"Since Nasse had to be sold," said Mrs Folliat, with a faint tremor in her voice, "I am glad that Sir
Georgeboughtit.ItwasrequisitionedduringthewarbytheArmyandafterwardsitmighthavebeen
boughtandmadeintoaguesthouseoraschool,theroomscutupandpartitioned,distortedoutoftheir
naturalbeauty.Ourneighbours,theFletchers,atHoodown,hadtoselltheirplaceanditisnowaYouth
Hostel. One is glad that young people should enjoy themselves - and fortunately Hoodown is late-
Victorian,andofnogreatarchitecturalmerit,sothatthealterationsdonotmatter.I'mafraidsomeofthe
young people trespass on our grounds. It makes Sir George very angry. It's true that they have
occasionallydamagedtherareshrubsbyhackingthemabout-theycomethroughheretryingtogeta

shortcuttotheferryacrosstheriver."

They were standing now by the front gate. The lodge, a small white one-storied building, lay a little
backfromthedrivewithasmallrailedgardenroundit.

MrsFolliattookbackherbasketfromPoirotwithawordofthanks.

"Iwasalwaysveryfondofthelodge,"shesaid,lookingatitaffectionately."Merdle,ourheadgardener
forthirtyyears,usedtolivehere.Imuchpreferittothetopcottage,thoughthathasbeenenlargedand
modernised by Sir George. It had to be; we've got quite a young man now as head gardener, with a
youngwife-andtheseyoungwomenmusthaveelectricironsandmoderncookersandtelevision,and
allthat.Onemustgowiththetimes..."Shesighed."Thereishardlyapersonleftnowontheestatefrom
theolddays-allnewfaces."

"Iamglad,Madame,"saidPoirot,"thatyouhaveatleastfoundahaven."

"YouknowthoselinesofSpenser's?'Sleepaftertoyle,portafterstormieseas,easeafterwar,deathafter
life,dothgreatlyplease...'"

Shepausedandsaidwithoutanychangeoftone:

"It's a very wicked world, M. Poirot. And there are very wicked people in the world. You probably
knowthataswellasIdo.Idon'tsaysobeforetheyoungerpeople,itmightdiscouragethem,butit's
true...Yes,it'saverywickedworld..."

Shegavehimalittlenod,thenturnedandwentintothelodge.Poirotstoodstill,staringattheshutdoor.

Chapter5

In a mood of exploration Poirot went through the front gates and down the steeply twisting road that
presentlyemergedonasmallquay.Alargebellwithachainhadanoticeuponit:"RingfortheFerry."
Therewerevariousboatsmooredbythesideofthequay.Averyoldmanwithrheumyeyes,whohad
beenleaningagainstabollard,cameshufflingtowardsPoirot.

"Dueewanttheferry,sir?"

"Ithankyou,no.IhavejustcomedownfromNasseHouseforalittlewalk."

"Ah,'tisupatNasseyuare?Workedthereasaboy,Idid,andmyson,hewereheadgardenerthere.But
Ididusetolookaftertheboats.OldSquireFolliat,hewasfairmazedaboutboats.Sailinallweathers,
he would. The Major now, his son, he didn't care for sailing. Horses, that's all he cared about. And a
prettypacketwenton'em.Thatandthebottle-hadahardtimewithhim,hiswifedid.Yu'veseenher,
maybe-livesattheLodgenow,shedu."

"Yes,Ihavejustlefthertherenow."

"HerbeaFolliat,to,secondcousinfromoverTivertonway.Agreatoneforthegarden,sheis,allthem
there flowering shrubs she had put in. Even when it was took over during the war, and the young
gentlemenwasgonetothewar,shestilllookedaftertheyshrubsandkept'emfrombeingoverrun."

"Itwashardonher,bothhersonsbeingkilled."

"Ah, she've had a hard life, she have, what with this and that. Trouble with her husband, and trouble
withtheyounggentlemen,tu.NotMrHenry.Hewasasniceayounggentlemanasyucouldwish,took
afterhisgrandfather,fondofsailingandwentintothenavyasamatterofcourse,butMrJames,caused
heralotoftrouble.Debtsandwomenitwer,andthen,tu,hewererealwildinhistemper.Bornoneof
they as can't go straight. But the war suited him, as yu might say - give him his chance. Ah! There's
manywhocan'tgostraightinpeacewhodiesbravelyinwar."

"Sonow,"saidPoirot,"therearenomoreFolliatsatNasse."

Theoldman'sflowoftalkdiedabruptly.

"Justasyusay,sir."

Poirotlookedcuriouslyattheoldman.

"InsteadyouhaveSirGeorgeStubbs.Whatisthoughtlocallyofhim?"

"Usunderstands,"saidtheoldman,"thathebepowerfulrich."

Histonesoundeddryandalmostamused.

"Andhiswife?"

"Ah,she'safineladyfromLondon,sheis.Nouseforgardens,nother.Theydusay,tu,asherdube
wantinguphere."

Hetappedhistemplesignificantly.

"Notasherisn'talwaysverynicespokenandfriendly.Justoverayearthey'vebeenhere.Boughtthe
placeandhaditalldoneuplikenew.Irememberasthough'twereyesterdaythemarriving.Arrivedin
theevening,theydid,dayaftertheworstgaleasIeverremember.Treesdownrightandleft-onedown
acrossthedriveandushadtogetitsawnawayinahurrytogetthedriveclearforthecar.Andthebig
oakupalong,thatcomedownandbroughtalotofothersdownwithit,madeararemess,itdid."

"Ah,yes,wheretheFollystandsnow?"

Theoldmanturnedasideandspatdisgustedly.

"Folly'tiscalledandFolly'tis-new-fanglednonsense.NeverwasnoFollyintheoldFolliats'time.Her
ladyship'sideathatFollywas.Putupnotthreeweeksaftertheyfirstcome,andI'venodoubtshetalked
Sir George into it. Rare silly it looks stuck up there among the trees, like a heathen temple. A nice
summerhousenow,maderusticlikewithstainedglass.I'dhavenothingagainstthat."

Poirotsmiledfaintly.

"TheLondonladies,"hesaid,"theymusthavetheirfancies.ItissadthatthedayoftheFolliatsisover."

"Don'teeneverbelievethat,sir."Theoldmangaveawheezychuckle."AlwaysbeFolliatsatNasse."

"ButthehousebelongstoSirGeorgeStubbs."

"That'sasmaybe-butthere'sstillaFolliathere.Ah!RareandcunningtheFolliatsare!"

"Whatdoyoumean?"

Theoldmangavehimaslysidewaysglance.

"MrsFolliatbelivinguptoLodge,bain'tshe?"hedemanded.

"Yes,"saidPoirotslowly."Mrs-FolliatislivingattheLodgeandtheworldisverywicked,andallthe
peopleinitareverywicked."

Theoldmanstaredathim.

"Ah,"hesaid."Yu'vegotsomethingthere,maybe."

Heshuffledawayagain.

"ButwhathaveIgot?"Poirotaskedhimselfwithirritationasheslowlywalkedupthehillbacktothe
house.

II

Hercule Poirot made a meticulous toilet, applying a scented pomade to his moustaches and twirling
themtoaferociouscoupleofpoints.Hestoodbackfromthemirrorandwassatisfiedbywhathesaw.

Thesoundofagongresoundedthroughthehouse,andhedescendedthestairs.

Thebutler,havingfinishedamostartisticperformance,crescendo,forte,diminuendo,rallentando,was
justreplacingthegongstickonitshook.Hisdarkmelancholyfaceshowedpleasure.

Poirotthoughttohimself:"Ablackmailingletterfromthehousekeeper-oritmaybethebutler..."This

butler looked as though blackmailing letters would be well within his scope. Poirot wondered if Mrs
Olivertookhercharactersfromlife.

Miss Brewis crossed the hall in an unbecoming flowered chiffon dress and he caught up with her,
askingashedidso:

"Youhaveahousekeeperhere?"

"Oh,no,M.Poirot.I'mafraidonedoesn'truntonicetiesofthatkindnowadays,exceptinareallylarge
establishment,ofcourse.Oh,no,I'mthehousekeeper-morehousekeeperthansecretary,sometimes,in
thishouse."

Shegaveashortacidlaugh.

"Soyouarethehousekeeper?"Poirotconsideredherthoughtfully.

HecouldnotseeMissBrewiswritingablackmailingletter.Now,ananonymousletter-thatwouldbea
different thing. He had known anonymous letters written by women not unlike Miss Brewis - solid,
dependablewomen,totallyunsuspectedbythosearoundthem.

"Whatisyourbutler'sname?"heasked.

"Henden."MissBrewislookedalittleastonished.

Poirotrecollectedhimselfandexplainedquickly:

"IaskbecauseIhadafancyIhadseenhimsomewherebefore."

"Verylikely,"saidMissBrewis."Noneofthesepeopleeverseemtostayinanyplacemorethanfour
months.TheymustsoonhavedonetheroundofalltheavailablesituationsinEngland.Afterall,it'snot
manypeoplewhocanaffordbutlersandcooksnowadays."

They came into the drawing-room, where Sir George, looking somehow rather unnatural in a dinner-
jacket,wasprofferingsherry.MrsOliver,iniron-greysatin,waslookinglikeanobsoletebattleship,and
LadyStubbs'ssmoothblackheadwasbentdownasshestudiedthefashionsinVogue.

AlecandSallyLeggewerediningandalsoJimWarburton.

"We've a heavy evening ahead of us," he warned them. "No bridge tonight. All hands to the pump.
Thereareanyamountofnoticestoprint,andthebigcardfortheFortuneTelling.Whatnameshallwe
have?MadameZuleika?Esmeralda?OrRomanyLeigh,theGipsyQueen?"

"The Eastern touch," said Sally. "Everyone in agricultural districts hates gipsies. Zuleika sounds all
right.IbroughtmypaintboxoverandIthoughtMichaelcoulddousacurlingsnaketoornamentthe
notice."

"CleopatraratherthanZuleika,then?"

Hendenappearedatthedoor.

"Dinnerisserved,mylady."

Theywentin.Therewerecandlesonthelongtable.Theroomwasfullofshadows.

WarburtonandAlecLeggesatoneithersideoftheirhostess.PoirotwasbetweenMrsOliverandMiss
Brewis. The latter was engaged in brisk general conversation about further details of preparation for
tomorrow.

MrsOliversatinbroodingabstractionandhardlyspoke.

Whenshedidatlastbreakhersilence,itwaswithasomewhatcontradictoryexplanation.

"Don'tbotheraboutme,"shesaidtoPoirot."I'mjustrememberingifthere'sanythingI'veforgotten."

SirGeorgelaughedheartily.

"Thefatalflaw,eh?"heremarked.

"That'sjust it," saidMrs Oliver. "Therealways is one. Sometimesone doesn't realiseit until a book's
actuallyinprint.Andthenit'sagony!"Herfacereflectedthisemotion.Shesighed."Thecuriousthingis
that most people never notice it. I say to myself, 'But of course the cook would have been bound to
noticethattwocutletshadn'tbeeneaten.'Butnobodyelsethinksofitatall."

"Youfascinateme."MichaelWeymanleantacrossthetable."TheMysteryoftheSecondCutlet.Please,
pleaseneverexplain.Ishallwonderaboutitinmybath."

MrsOlivergavehimanabstractedsmileandrelapsedintoherpreoccupations.

Lady Stubbs was also silent. Now and again she yawned. Warburton, Alec Legge and Miss Brewis
talkedacrossher.

Astheycameoutofthedining-room,LadyStubbsstoppedbythestairs.

"I'mgoingtobed,"sheannounced."I'mverysleepy."

"Oh,LadyStubbs,"exclaimedMissBrewis,"there'ssomuchtobedone.We'vebeencountingonyouto
helpus."

"Yes,Iknow,"saidLadyStubbs."ButI'mgoingtobed."

Shespokewiththesatisfactionofasmallchild.

SheturnedherheadasSirGeorgecameoutofthedining-room.

"I'mtired,George.I'mgoingtobed.Youdon'tmind?"

Hecameuptoherandpattedherontheshoulderaffectionately.

"Yougoandgetyourbeautysleep,Hattie.Befreshfortomorrow."

Hekissedherlightlyandshewentupthestairs,wavingherhandandcallingout:

"Goodnight,all."

SirGeorgesmiledupather.MissBrewisdrewinherbreathsharplyandturnedbrusquelyaway.

"Come along, everybody," she said, with a forced cheerfulness that did not ring true. "We've got to
work."

Presently everyone was set to their tasks. Since Miss Brewis could not be everywhere at once, there
were soon some defaulters. Michael Weyman ornamented a placard with a ferociously magnificent
serpentandthewords,MadameZuleikawilltellyourFortune,andthenvanishedunobtrusively.Alec
Leggedidafewnondescriptchoresandthenwentoutavowedlytomeasureforthehoop-laanddidnot
reappear.Thewomen,aswomendo,workedenergeticallyandconscientiously.HerculePoirotfollowed
hishostess'sexampleandwentearlytobed.

III

Poirotcamedowntobreakfastonthefollowingmorningatnine-thirty.Breakfastwasservedinpre-war
fashion. A row of hot dishes on an electric heater. Sir George was eating a full-sized Englishman's
breakfastofscrambledeggs,baconandkidneys.MrsOliverandMissBrewishadamodifiedversionof
thesame.MichaelWeymanwaseatingaplatefulofcoldham.OnlyLadyStubbswasunheedfulofthe
fleshpotsandwasnibblingthintoastandsippingblackcoffee.Shewaswearingalargepale-pinkhat
whichlookedoddatthebreakfasttable.

The post had just arrived. Miss Brewis had an enormous pile of letters in front of her which she was
rapidlysortingintopiles.AnyofSirGeorge'smarked"Personal"shepassedovertohim.Theothersshe
openedherselfandsortedintocategories.

Lady Stubbs had three letters. She opened what were clearly a couple of bills and tossed them aside.
Thensheopenedthethirdletterandsaidsuddenlyandclearly:

"Oh!"

Theexclamationwassostartledthatallheadsturnedtowardsher.

"It'sfromEtienne,"shesaid."MycousinEtienne.He'scominghereinayacht."

"Let'ssee,Hattie."SirGeorgeheldouthishand.

Shepassedtheletterdownthetable.Hesmoothedoutthesheetandread.

"Who'sthisEtiennedeSousa?Acousin,yousay?"

"Ithinkso.Asecondcousin.Idonotrememberhimverywell-hardlyatall.Hewas-"

"Yes,mydear?"

Sheshruggedhershoulders.

"Itdoesnotmatter.Itisallalongtimeago.Iwasalittlegirl."

"Isupposeyouwouldn'trememberhimverywell.Butwemustmakehimwelcome,ofcourse,"saidSir
Georgeheartily."Pityinawayit'sthefêtetoday,butwe'llaskhimtodinner.Perhapswecouldputhim
upforanightortwo-showhimsomethingofthecountry?"

SirGeorgewasbeingtheheartycountrysquire.

LadyStubbssaidnothing.Shestareddownintohercoffee-cup.

Conversation on the inevitable subject of the fête became general. Only Poirot remained detached,
watching the slim exotic figure at the head of the table. He wondered just what was going oft in her
mind.Atthatverymomenthereyescameupandcastaswiftglancealongthetabletowherehesat.It
was a look so shrewd and appraising that he was startled. As their eyes met, the shrewd expression
vanished-emptinessreturned.Butthatotherlookhadbeenthere,cold,calculating,watchful...

Orhadheimaginedit?Inanycase,wasn'tittruethatpeoplewhowereslightlymentallydeficientvery
oftenhadakindofslynativecunningthatsometimessurprisedeventhepeoplewhoknewthembest.

HethoughttohimselfthatLadyStubbswascertainlyanenigma.Peopleseemedtoholddiametrically
opposite ideas concerning her. Miss Brewis had intimated that Lady Stubbs knew very well what she
wasdoing.YetMrsOliverdefinitelythoughtherhalf-witted,andMrsFolliatwhohadknownherlong
andintimatelyhadspokenofherassomeonenotquitenormal,whoneededcareandwatchfulness.

Miss Brewis was probably prejudiced. She disliked Lady Stubbs for her indolence and her aloofness.
PoirotwonderedifMissBrewishadbeenSirGeorge'ssecretarypriortohismarriage.Ifso,shemight
easilyresentthecomingofthenewrégime.

PoirothimselfwouldhaveagreedwholeheartedlywithMrsFolliatandMrsOliver-untilthismorning.
And,afterall,couldhereallyrelyonwhathadbeenonlyafleetingimpression?

LadyStubbsgotupabruptlyfromthetable.

"Ihaveaheadache,"shesaid."Ishallgoandliedowninmyroom."

SirGeorgesprangupanxiously.

"Mydeargirl.You'reallright,aren'tyou?"

"It'sjustaheadache."

"You'llbefitenoughforthisafternoon,won'tyou?"

"Yes,Ithinkso."

"Takesomeaspirin,LadyStubbs,"saidMissBrewisbriskly."HaveyougotsomeorshallIbringitto
you?"

"I'vegotsome."

She moved towards the door. As she went she dropped the handkerchief she had been squeezing
betweenherfingers.Poirot,movingquietlyforward,pickeditupunobtrusively.

SirGeorge,abouttofollowhiswife,wasstoppedbyMissBrewis.

"Abouttheparkingofcarsthisafternoon,SirGeorge.I'mjustgoingtogiveMitchellinstructions.Do
youthinkthatthebestplanwouldbe,asyousaid-?"

Poirot,goingoutoftheroom,heardnomore.

Hecaughtuphishostessonthestairs.

"Madame,youdroppedthis."

Heprofferedthehandkerchiefwithabow.

Shetookitunheedingly.

"DidI?Thankyou."

"Iammostdistressed,Madame,thatyoushouldbesuffering.Particularlywhenyourcousiniscoming."

Sheansweredquickly,almostviolently.

"Idon'twanttoseeEtienne.Idon'tlikehim.He'sbad.Hewasalwaysbad.I'mafraidofhim.Hedoes
badthings."

Thedoorofthedining-roomopenedandSirGeorgecameacrossthehallandupthestairs.

"Hattie,mypoordarling.Letmecomeandtuckyouup."

Theywentupthestairstogether,hisarmroundhertenderly,hisfaceworriedandabsorbed.

Poirotlookedupafterthem,thenturnedtoencounterMissBrewismovingfast,andclaspingpapers.

"LadyStubbs'sheadache-"hebegan.

"Nomoreheadachethanmyfoot,"saidMissBrewiscrossly,anddisappearedintoheroffice,closingthe
doorbehindher.

Poirotsighedandwentoutthroughthefrontdoorontotheterrace.MrsMastertonhadjustdrivenupin
a small car and was directing the elevation of a tea marquee, baying out orders in rich full-blooded
tones.

SheturnedtogreetPoirot.

"Suchanuisance,theseaffairs,"sheobserved."Andtheywillalwaysputeverythinginthewrongplace.
No, Rogers! More to the left - left - not right! What do you think of the weather, M. Poirot? Looks
doubtfultome.Rain,ofcourse,wouldspoileverything.Andwe'vehadsuchafinesummerthisyearfor
achange.Where'sSirGeorge?Iwanttotalktohimaboutcarparking."

"Hiswifehasaheadacheandhasgonetoliedown."

"She'llbeallrightthisafternoon,"saidMrsMastertonconfidently."Likesfunctions,youknow.She'll
make a terrific toilet and be as pleased about it as a child. Just fetch me a bundle of those pegs over
there,willyou?Iwanttomarktheplacesfortheclockgolfnumbers."

Poirot,thuspressedintoservice,wasworkedbyMrsMastertonrelentlessly,asausefulapprentice.She
condescendedtotalktohimintheintervalsofhardlabour.

"Gottodoeverythingyourself,Ifind.Onlyway...Bytheway,you'reafriendoftheEliots,Ibelieve?"

Poirot, after his long sojourn in England, comprehended that this was an indication of social
recognition.MrsMastertonwasinfactsaying:"Althoughaforeigner,IunderstandyouareOneofUs."
Shecontinuedtochatinanintimatemanner.

"NicetohaveNasselivedinagain.Wewereallsoafraiditwasgoingtobeahotel.Youknowwhatitis
nowadays;onedrivesthroughthecountryandpassesplaceafterplacewiththeboardup'GuestHouse'
or'PrivateHotel'or'HotelA.A.FullyLicensed.'Allthehousesonestayedinasagirl-orwhereone
wenttodances.Verysad.Yes,I'mgladaboutNasseandsoispoordearAmyFolliat,ofcourse.She's
hadsuchahardlife-butnevercomplains,Iwillsay.SirGeorgehasdonewondersforNasse-andnot
vulgarisedit.Don'tknowwhetherthat'stheresultofAmyFolliat'sinfluence-orwhetherit'shisown
naturalgoodtaste.Hehasgotquitegoodtaste,youknow.Verysurprisinginamanlikethat."

"Heisnot,Iunderstand,oneofthelandedgentry?"saidPoirotcautiously.

"He isn't even really Sir George - was christened it, I understand. Took the idea from Lord George

Sanger'sCircus,Isuspect.Veryamusingreally.Ofcourseweneverleton.Richmenmustbeallowed
their little snobberies, don't you agree? The funny thing is that in spite of his origins George Stubbs
wouldgodownperfectlywellanywhere.He'sathrowback.Puretypeoftheeighteenthcenturycountry
squire.Goodbloodinhim,I'dsay.Fatheragentandmotherabarmaid,ismyguess."

Mrs Masterton interrupted herself to yell to a gardener. "Not by that rhododendron. You must leave
roomfortheskittlesovertotheright.Right-notleft!"

She went on: "Extraordinary how they can't tell their left from their right. The Brewis woman is
efficient.Doesn'tlikepoorHattie,though.Looksathersometimesasthoughshe'dliketomurderher.
Somanyofthesegoodsecretariesareinlovewiththeirboss.NowwheredoyouthinkJimWarburton
can have got to? Silly the way he sticks to calling himself 'Captain.' Not a regular soldier and never
withinmilesofaGerman.Onehastoputup,ofcourse,withwhatonecangetthesedays-andhe'sa
hardworker-butIfeelthere'ssomethingratherfishyabouthim.Ah!HerearetheLegges."

SallyLegge,dressedinslacksandayellowpullover,saidbrightly:

"We'vecometohelp."

"Lotstodo,"boomedMrsMasterton."Now,letmesee..."

Poirot,profitingbyherinattention,slippedaway.Ashecameroundthecornerofthehouseontothe
frontterracehebecameaspectatorofanewdrama.

Two young women, in shorts, with bright blouses, had come out from the wood and were standing
uncertainly looking up at the house. In one of them he thought he recognised the Italian girl of
yesterday's lift in the car. From the window of Lady Stubbs's bedroom Sir George leaned out and
addressedthemwrathfully.

"You'retrespassing,"heshouted.

"Please?"saidtheyoungwomanwiththegreenhead-scarf.

"Youcan'tcomethroughhere.Private."

Theotheryoungwoman,whohadaroyalbluehead-scarf,saidbrightly:

"Please?NassecombeQuay..."Shepronounceditcarefully."Itisthisway?Please."

"You'retrespassing,"bellowedSirGeorge.

"Please?"

"Trespassing!Nowaythrough.You'vegottogoback.BACK!Thewayyoucame."

They stared as he gesticulated. Then they consulted together in a flood of foreign speech. Finally,
doubtfully,blue-scarfsaid:

"Back?ToHostel?"

"That'sright.Andyoutaketheroad-road-roundthatway."

Theyretreatedunwillingly.SirGeorgemoppedhisbrowandlookeddownatPoirot.

"Spendmytimeturningpeopleoff,"hesaid."Usedtocomethroughthetopgate.I'vepadlockedthat.
Nowtheycomethroughthewoods,havinggotoverthefence.Thinktheycangetdowntotheshoreand
thequayeasilythisway.Well,theycan,ofcourse,muchquicker.Butthere'snorightofway-neverhas
been.Andthey'repracticallyallforeigners-don'tunderstandwhatyousay,andjustjabberbackatyou
inDutchorsomething."

"Ofthese,oneisGermanandtheotherItalian,Ithink-IsawtheItaliangirlonherwayfromthestation
yesterday."

"Everykindoflanguagetheytalk...Yes,Hattie?Whatdidyousay?"Hedrewbackintotheroom.

PoirotturnedtofindMrsOliverandawell-developedgirloffourteendressedinGuideuniformclose
behindhim.

"ThisisMarlene,"saidMrsOliver.

Marleneacknowledgedtheintroductionwithapronouncedsnuffle.Poirotbowedpolitely.

"She'stheVictim,"saidMrsOliver.

Marlenegiggled.

"I'mthehorribleCorpse,"shesaid."ButI'mnotgoingtohaveanybloodonme."Hertoneexpressed
disappointment.

"No?"

"No.Juststrangledwithacord,that'sall.I'doflikedtobestabbed-andhavelashingsofredpaint."

"CaptainWarburtonthoughtitmightlooktoorealistic,"saidMrsOliver.

"InamurderIthinkyououghttohaveblood,"saidMarlenesulkily.ShelookedatPoirotwithhungry
interest."Seenlotsofmurders,haven'tyou?Soshesays."

"Oneortwo,"saidPoirotmodestly.

HeobservedwithalarmthatMrsOliverwasleavingthem.

"Anysexmaniacs?"askedMarlenewithavidity.

"Certainlynot."

"Ilikesexmaniacs,"saidMarlenewithrelish."Readingaboutthem,Imean."

"Youwouldprobablynotlikemeetingone."

"Oh,Idunno.D'youknowwhat?Ibelievewe'vegotasexmaniacroundhere.Mygranddadsawabody
inthewoodsonce.Hewasscaredandranaway,andwhenhecomebackitwasgone.Itwasawoman's
body.Butofcoursehe'sbatty,mygranddadis,sonoonelistenstowhathesays."

Poirotmanagedtoescapeandregainingthehousebyacircuitousroute,tookrefugeinhisbedroom.He
feltinneedofrepose.

Chapter6

Lunchwasanearlyandquicklysnatchedaffairofacoldbuffet.Attwo-thirtyaminorfilmstarwasto
open the fête. The weather, after looking ominously like rain, began to improve. By three o'clock the
fêtewasinfullswing.Peoplewerepayingtheadmissionchargeofhalfacrowninlargenumbers,and
cars were lining one side of the long drive. Students from the Youth Hostel arrived in batches
conversingloudlyinforeigntongues.TruetoMrsMasterton'sforecast,LadyStubbshademergedfrom
herbedroomjustbeforehalf-pasttwo,dressedinacyclamendresswithanenormouscoolie-shapedhat
ofblackstraw.Sheworelargequantitiesofdiamonds.

MissBrewismurmuredsardonically:

"Thinksit'stheRoyalEnclosureatAscot,evidently!"

ButPoirotcomplimentedhergravely.

"Itisabeautifulcreationthatyouhaveon,Madame."

"Itisnice,isn'tit,"saidHattiehappily."IworeitforAscot."

TheminorfilmstarwasarrivingandHattiemovedforwardtogreether.

Poirot retreated into the background. He wandered around disconsolately - everything seemed to be
proceedinginthenormalfashionoffêtes.Therewasacoconutshy,presidedoverbySirGeorgeinhis
heartiest fahion, a skittle alley and a hoop-la. There were various "stalls" displaying local produce of
fruit,vegetables,jamsandcakes-andothersdisplaying"fancyobjects."Therewere"raffles"ofcakes,
ofbasketsoffruit;even,itseemed,ofapig;anda"LuckyDip"forchildrenattwopenceago.

TherewasagoodcrowdofpeoplebynowandanExhibitionofChildren'sDancingbegan.Poirotsaw
no sign of Mrs Oliver, but Lady Stubbs's cyclamen pink figure showed up amongst the crowd as she

driftedrathervaguelyabout.Thefocusofattention,however,seemedtobeMrsFolliat.Shewasquite
transformedinappearance-wearingahydrangea-bluefoulardfrockandasmartgreyhat,sheappeared
topresideovertheproceedings,greetingnewarrivals,anddirectingpeopletothevarioussideshows.

Poirotlingerednearherandlistenedtosomeoftheconversations.

"Amy,mydear,howareyou?"

"Oh,Pamela,howniceofyouandEdwardtocome.SuchalongwayfromTiverton."

"The weather's held for you. Remember the year before the war? Cloudburst came down about four
o'clock.Ruinedthewholeshow."

"Butit'sbeenawonderfulsummerthisyear.Dorothy!It'sagessinceI'veseenyou."

"WefeltwehadtocomeandseeNasseinitsglory.Iseeyou'vecutbacktheberberisonthebank."

"Yes,itshowsthehydrangeasbetter,don'tyouthink?"

"How wonderful they are. What a blue! But, my dear, you've done wonders in the last year. Nasse is
reallybeginningtolooklikeitselfagain."

Dorothy'shusbandboomedinadeepvoice:

"Cameovertoseethecommandanthereduringthewar.Nearlybrokemyheart."

MrsFolliatturnedtogreetahumblervisitor.

"MrsKnapper,Iampleasedtoseeyou.IsthisLucy?Howshe'sgrown!"

"She'llbeleavingschoolnextyear.Pleasedtoseeyoulookingsowell,ma'am."

"I'mverywell,thankyou.Youmustgoandtryyourluckathoop-la,Lucy.Seeyouintheteatentlater,

MrsKnapper.Ishallbehelpingwiththeteas."

Anelderlyman,presumablyMrKnapper,saiddiffidently:

"PleasedtohaveyoubackatNasse,ma'am.Seemslikeoldtimes."

MrsFolliat'sresponsewasdrownedastwowomenandabigbeefymanrushedtowardsher.

"Amy, dear, such ages. This looks the greatest success! Do tell me what you've done about the rose
garden.Murieltoldmethatyou'rerestockingitwithallthenewfloribundas."

Thebeefymanchippedin.

"Where'sMarylinGale-?"

"Reggie'sjustdyingtomeether.Hesawherlastpicture."

"Thatherinthebighat?Myword,that'ssomeget-up."

"Don'tbestupid,darling.That'sHattieStubbs.Youknow,Amy,youreallyshouldn'tlethergoround
quitesolikeamannequin."

"Amy?"Anotherfriendclaimedattention."ThisisRoger,Edward'sboy.Mydear,sonicetohaveyou
backatNasse."

Poirotmovedslowlyawayandabsent-mindedlyinvestedashillingonaticketthatmightwinhimthe
pig.

Heheardfaintlystill,the"Sogoodofyoutocome"refrainfrombehindhim.HewonderedwhetherMrs
Folliat realised how completely she had slipped into the role of hostess or whether it was entirely
unconscious.Shewas,verydefinitelythisafternoon,MrsFolliatofNasseHouse.

Hewasstandingbythetentlabelled"MadameZuleikawilltellyourfortunefor2s.6d."Teashadjust
begun to be served and there was no longer a queue for the fortune telling. Poirot bowed his head,

entered the tent and paid over his half-crown willingly for the privilege of sinking into a chair and
restinghisachingfeet.

MadameZuleikawaswearingflowingblackrobes,agoldtinselscarfwoundroundherheadandaveil
across the lower half of her face which slightly ruffled her remarks. A gold bracelet hung with lucky
charmstinkledasshetookPoirot'shandandgavehimarapidreading,agreeablyfullofmoneytocome,
successwithadarkbeautyandamiraculousescapefromanaccident.

"Itisveryagreeableallthatyoutellme,MadameLegge.Ionlywishthatitcouldcometrue."

"Oh!"saidSally."Soyouknowme,doyou?"

"Ihadadvanceinformation-MrsOlivertoldmethatyouwereoriginallytobethe'victim'butthatyou
hadbeensnatchedfromherfortheOccult."

"IwishIwasbeingthe'body,'"saidSally."Muchmorepeaceful.AllJimWarburton'sfault.Isitfour
o'clockyet?Iwantmytea.I'moffdutyfromfourtohalf-past."

"Tenminutestogo,still,"saidPoirot,consultinghislargeold-fashionedwatch."ShallIbringacupof
teahere?"

"No,no.Iwantthebreak.Thistentisstifling.Aretherealotofpeoplewaitingstill?"

"No,Ithinktheyareliningupfortea."

"Good."

Poirotemergedfromthetentandwasimmediatelychallengedbyadeterminedwomanandmadetopay
sixpenceandguesstheweightofacake.

A hoop-la stall presided over by a fat motherly woman urged him to try his luck and, much to
discomfiture, he immediately won a large Kewpie doll. Walking sheepishly along with this he
encounteredMichaelWeymanwhowasstandinggloomyontheoutskirtsnearthetopofapaththatled
downtothequay.

"Youseemtohavebeenenjoyingyourself,M.Poirot,"hesaid,withasardonicgrin.

Poirotcontemplatedhisprize.

"Itistrulyhorrible,isitnot?"hesaidsadly.

A small child near him suddenly burst out crying. Poirot stooped swiftly and tucked the doll into the
child'sarm.

"Voilà,itisforyou."

Thetearsceasedabruptly.

"There-Violet-isn'tthegentlemankind?Say,Ta,everso-"

"Children'sFancyDress,"calledoutCaptainWarburtonthroughamegaphone."Thefirstclass-threeto
five.Formup,please."

Poirotmovedtowardsthehouse,andwascannonedintobyayoungmanwhowassteppingbackwards
totakeabetteraimatacoconut.TheyoungmanscowledandPoirotapologised,mechanically,hiseye
heldfascinatedbythevariedpatternoftheyoungman'sshirt.Herecogniseditasthe"turtle"shirtofSir
George's description. Every kind of turtle, tortoise and sea monster appeared to be writhing and
crawlingoverit.

PoirotblinkedandwasaccostedbytheDutchgirltowhomhehadgivenaliftthedaybefore.

"Soyouhavecometothefête,"hesaid."Andyourfriend?"

"Oh,yes,she,too,comesherethisafternoon.Ihavenotseenheryet,butweshallleavetogetherbythe
bus that goes from the gates at five-fifteen. We go to Torquay and there I change to another bus for
Plymouth.Itisconvenient."

ThisexplainedwhathadpuzzledPoirot,thefactthattheDutchgirlwasperspiringundertheweightofa
rucksack.

Hesaid:"Isawyourfriendthismorning."

"Oh,yes,Elsa,aGermangirl,waswithherandshetoldmetheyhadtriedtogetthroughwoodstothe
riverandquay.Andthegentlemanwhoownsthehousewasveryangryandmadethemgoback."

Sheadded,turningherheadtowhereSirGeorgewasurgingcompetitorsatthecoconutshy:

"Butnow-thisafternoon,heisverypolite."

Poirot considered explaining that there was a difference between young women who were trespassers
and the same young women when they had paid two shillings and sixpence entrance fee and were
legallyentitledtosamplethedelightsofNasseHouseanditsgrounds.ButCaptainWarburtonandhis
megaphoneboredownuponhim.TheCaptainwaslookinghotandbothered.

"Have you seen Lady Stubbs, Poirot? Anyone seen Lady Stubbs? She's supposed to be judging this
FancyDressbusinessandIcan'tfindheranywhere."

"Isawher,letmesee-oh,abouthalfanhourago.ButthenIwenttohavemyfortunetold."

"Curse the woman," said Warburton angrily. "Where can she have disappeared to? The children are
waitingandwe'rebehindscheduleasitis."

Helookedround.

"Where'sAmandaBrewis?"

MissBrewis,also,wasnotinevidence.

"It really is too bad," said Warburton. "One's got to have some co-operation if one's trying to run a
show.WherecanHattiebe?Perhapsshe'sgoneintothehouse."

Hestrodeoffrapidly.

Poirotedgedhiswaytowardstheroped-offspacewhereteaswerebeingservedinalargemarquee,but
therewasalongwaitingqueueandhedecidedagainstit.

He inspected the Fancy Goods stall where a determined old lady very nearly managed to sell him a
plasticcollarbox,andfinallymadehiswayroundtheoutskirtstoaplacewherehecouldcontemplate
theactivityfromasafedistance.

HewonderedwhereMrsOliverwas.

Footstepsbehindhimmadehimturnhishead.Ayoungmanwascomingupthepathfromthequay;a
verydarkyoungman,faultlesslyattiredinyachtingcostume.Hepausedasthoughdisconcertedbythe
scenebeforehim.

ThenhespokehesitatinglytoPoirot.

"Youwillexcuseme.IsthisthehouseofSirGeorgesStubbs?"

"Itisindeed."Poirotpausedandthenhazardedaguess."Areyou,perhaps,thecousinofLadyStubbs?"

"IamEtiennedeSousa-"

"MynameisHerculePoirot."

They bowed to each other. Poirot explained the circumstances of the fête. As he finished, Sir George
cameacrossthelawntowardsthemfromthecoconutshy.

"DeSousa?Delightedtoseeyou.Hattiegotyourletterthismorning.Where'syouryacht?"

"ItismooredatHelmmouth.Icameuptherivertothequayhereinmylaunch."

"WemustfindHattie.She'ssomewhereabout...You'lldinewithusthisevening,Ihope?"

"Youaremostkind."

"Canweputyouup?"

"Thatalsoismostkind,butIwillsleeponmyyacht.Itiseasierso."

"Areyoustayingherelong?"

"Twoorthreedays,perhaps.Itdepends."DeSousashruggedelegantshoulders.

"Hattiewillbedelighted,I'msure,"saidSirGeorgepolitely."Whereisshe?Isawhernotlongago."

Helookedroundinaperplexedmanner.

"Sheoughttobejudgingthechildren'sfancydress.Ican'tunderstandit.Excusemeamoment.I'llask
MissBrewis."

Hehurriedoff.DeSousalookedafterhim.PoirotlookedatDeSousa.

"Itissomelittletimesinceyoulastsawyourcousin?"heasked.

Theothershruggedhisshoulders.

"Ihavenotseenhersinceshewasfifteenyearsold.Soonafterthatshewassentabroad-toschoolata
conventinFrance.Asachildshepromisedtohavegoodlooks."

HelookedinquiringlyatPoirot.

"Sheisabeautifulwoman,"saidPoirot.

"Andthatisherhusband?Heseemswhattheycall'agoodfellow,'butnotperhapsverypolished?Still,
forHattieitmightbeperhapsalittledifficulttofindasuitablehusband."

Poirotremainedwithapolitelyinquiringexpressiononhisface.Theotherlaughed.

"Oh,itisnosecret.AtfifteenHattiewasmentallyundeveloped.Feebleminded,doyounotcallit?She
isstillthesame?"

"Itwouldseemso-yes,"saidPoirotcautiously.

DeSousashruggedhisshoulders.

"Ah,well!Whyshouldoneaskitofwomen-thattheyshouldbeintelligent?Itisnotnecessary."

SirGeorgewasback,fuming.MissBrewiswaswithhim,speakingratherbreathlessly.

"I've no idea where she is, Sir George. I saw her over by the fortune teller's tent last. But that was at
leasttwentyminutesorhalfanhourago.She'snotinthehouse."

"Is it not possible," asked Poirot, "that she has gone to observe the progress of Mrs Oliver's murder
hunt?"

SirGeorge'sbrowcleared.

"That'sprobablyit.Lookhere,Ican'tleavetheshowshere.I'mincharge.AndAmanda'sgotherhands
full.Couldyoupossiblyhavealookround,Poirot?Youknowthecourse."

But Poirot did not know the course. However, an inquiry of Miss Brewis gave him rough guidance.
Miss Brewis took brisk charge of De Sousa and Poirot went off murmuring to himself, like an
incantation:

"TennisCourt,CamelliaGarden,TheFolly,UpperNurseryGarden,Boathouse..."

As he passed the coconut shy he was amused to notice Sir George proffering wooden balls with a
dazzlingsmileofwelcometothesameyoungItalianwomanwhomhehaddrivenoffthatmorningand
whowasclearlypuzzledathischangeofattitude.

He went on his way to the tennis court. But there was no one there but an old gentleman of military
aspectwhowasfastasleeponagardenseatwithhishatpulledoverhiseyes.Poirotretracedhisstepsto

thehouseandwentondowntothecamelliagarden.

InthecamelliagardenPoirotfoundMrsOliverdressedinpurplesplendour,sittingonagardenseatina
broodingattitude,andlookingratherlikeMrsSiddons.Shebeckonedhimtotheseatbesideher.

"Thisisonlythesecondclue,"shehissed."IthinkI'vemadethemtoodifficult.Nobody'scomeyet."

Atthismomentayoungmaninshorts,withaprominentAdam'sapple,enteredthegarden.Withacry
ofsatisfactionhehurriedtoatreeinonecornerandafurthersatisfiedcryannouncedhisdiscoveryof
thenextclue.Passingthem,hefeltimpelledtocommunicatehissatisfaction.

"Lotsofpeopledon'tknowaboutcorktrees,"hesaidconfidentially."Cleverphotograph,thefirstclue,
butIspottedwhatitwas-sectionofatennisnet.Therewasapoisonbottle,empty,andacork.Mostof
'emwillgoalloutafterthebottleclue-Iguesseditwasaredherring.Verydelicate,corktrees,only
hardy in this part of the world. I'm interested in rare shrubs and trees. Now where does one go, I
wonder?"

Hefrownedovertheentryinthenotebookhecarried.

"I've copied the next clue but it doesn't seem to make sense." He eyed them suspiciously. "You
competing?"

"Oh,no,"saidMrsOliver."We'rejust-lookingon."

"Righty-ho...'Whenlovelywomanstoopstofolly.'...I'veanideaI'veheardthatsomewhere."

"Itisawell-knownquotation,"saidPoirot.

"AFollycanalsobeabuilding,"saidMrsOliverhelpfully."White-withpillars,"sheadded.

"That'sanidea!Thanksalot.TheysayMrsAriadneOliverisdownhereherselfsomewhereabout.I'd
liketogetherautograph.Youhaven'tseenherabout,haveyou?"

"No,"saidMrsOliverfirmly.

"I'dliketomeether.Goodyarnsshewrites."Heloweredhisvoice."Buttheysayshedrinkslikeafish."

HehurriedoffandMrsOliversaidindignantly:

"Really!That'smostunfairwhenIonlylikelemonade!"

"And have you not just perpetrated the great unfairness in helping that young man towards the next
clue?"

"Consideringhe'stheonlyonewho'sgotheresofar,Ithoughtheoughttobeencouraged."

"Butyouwouldn'tgivehimyourautograph."

"That'sdifferent,"saidMrsOliver."Sh!Herecomesomemore."

But these were not clue hunters. They were two women who having paid for admittance were
determinedtogettheirmoney'sworthbyseeingthegroundsthoroughly.

Theywerehotanddissatisfied.

"You'd think they'd have some nice flower-beds," said one to the other. "Nothing but trees and more
trees.It'snotwhatIcallagarden."

MrsOlivernudgedPoirot,andtheyslippedquietlyaway.

"Supposing,"saidMrsOliverdistractedly,"thatnobodyeverfindsmybody?"

"Patience,Madame,andcourage,"saidPoirot."Theafternoonisstillyoung."

"That'strue,"saidMrsOliverbrightening."Andit'shalf-priceadmissionafterfour-thirty,soprobably
lotsofpeoplewillflockin.Let'sgoandseehowthatMarlenechildisgettingon.Idon'treallytrustthat
girl,youknow.Nosenseofresponsibility.Iwouldn'tputitpasthertosneakawayquietly,insteadof
beingacorpse,andgoandhavetea.Youknowwhatpeoplearelikeabouttheirteas."

They proceeded amicably along the woodland path and Poirot commented on the geography of the
property.

"Ifinditveryconfusing,"hesaid."Somanypaths,andoneisneversurewheretheylead.Andtrees,
treeseverywhere."

"Yousoundlikethatdisgruntledwomanwe'vejustleft."

TheypassedtheFollyandzig-zaggeddownthepathtotheriver.Theoutlinesoftheboathouseshowed
beneaththem.

Poirotremarkedthatitwouldbeawkwardifthemurdersearchersweretolightupontheboathouseand
findthebodybyaccident.

"Asortofshortcut?Ithoughtofthat.That'swhythelastclueisjustakey.Youcan'tunlockthedoor
withoutit.It'saYale.Youcanonlyopenitfromtheinside."

Ashortsteepslopeleddowntothedooroftheboathousewhichwasbuiltoutovertheriver,withalittle
wharfandastorageplaceforboatsunderneath.MrsOlivertookakeyfromapocketconcealedamongst
herpurplefoldsandunlockedthedoor.

"We'vejustcometocheeryouup,Marlene,"shesaidbrightlyassheentered.

She felt slightly remorseful at her unjust suspicions of Marlene's loyalty, for Marlene, artistically
arrangedas"thebody,"wasplayingherpartnobly,sprawledonthefloorbythewindow.

Marlene made no response. She lay quite motionless. The wind blowing gently through the open
windowrustledapileof"comics"spreadoutonthetable.

"It'sallright,"saidMrsOliverimpatiently."It'sonlymeandM.Poirot.Nobody'sgotanydistancewith
thecluesyet."

Poirot was frowning. Very gently he pushed Mrs Oliver aside and went and bent over the girl on the
floor.Asuppressedexclamationcamefromhislips.HelookedupatMrsOliver.

"So..."hesaid."Thatwhichyouexpectedhashappened."

"Youdon'tmean..."MrsOliver'seyeswidenedinhorror.Shegraspedforoneofthebasketchairsand
satdown."Youcan'tmean...Sheisn'tdead?"

Poirotnodded.

"Oh,yes,"hesaid."Sheisdead.Thoughnotverylongdead."

"Buthow-?"

Heliftedthecornerofthegayscarfboundroundthegirl'shead,sothatMrsOlivercouldseetheends
oftheclothesline.

"Justlikemymurder,"saidMrsOliverunsteadily."Butwho?Andwhy?"

"Thatisthequestion,"saidPoirot.

Heforboretoaddthatthosehadalsobeenherquestions.

Andthattheanswerstothemcouldnotbeheranswers,sincethevictimwasnottheYugoslavianfirst
wife of an Atom Scientist, but Marlene Tucker, a fourteen-year-old village girl who, as far as was
known,hadnotanenemyintheworld.

Chapter7

DetectiveInspectorBlandsatbehindatableinthestudy.SirGeorgehadmethimonarrival,hadtaken
him down to the boathouse and had now returned with him to the house. Down at the boathouse a
photographicunitwasnowbusyandthefingerprintmenandthemedicalofficerhadjustarrived.

"Thisdoforyouhereallright?"askedSirGeorge.

"Verynicely,thankyou,sir."

"WhatamItodoaboutthisshowthat'sgoingon,tell'emaboutit,stopit,orwhat?"

InspectorBlandconsideredforamomentortwo.

"Whathaveyoudonesofar,SirGeorge?"heasked.

"Haven'tsaidanything.There'sasortofideafloatingroundthatthere'sbeenanaccident.Nothingmore
thanthat.Idon'tthinkanyone'ssuspectedyetthatit's-er-well,murder."

"Then leave things as they are just for the moment," decided Bland. "The news will get round fast
enough, I dare say," he added cynically. He thought again for a moment or two before asking, "How
manypeopledoyouthinkthereareatthisaffair?"

"CoupleofhundredIshouldsay,"answeredSirGeorge,"andmorepouringineverymoment.People
seem to have come from a good long way round. In fact the whole thing's being a roaring success.
Damnedunfortunate."

Inspector Bland inferred correctly that it was the murder an not the success of the fête to which Sir
Georgewasreferring.

"Acoupleofhundred,"hemused,"andanyoneofthemIsupposecouldhavedoneit."

Hesighed.

"Tricky,saidSirGeorgesympathetically."ButIdon'tseewhatreasonanyoneofthemcouldhavehad.
Thewholethingseemsquitefantastic-don'tseewhowouldwanttogomurderingagirllikethat."

"Howmuchcanyoutellmeaboutthegirl?Shewasalocalgirl,Iunderstand?"

"Yes.Herpeopleliveinoneofthecottagesdownnearthequay.Herfatherworksatoneofthelocal
farms-Paterson's,Ithink."Headded,"Themotherishereatthefêtethisafternoon.MissBrewis-that's
my secretary, and se can tell you about everything much better than I can - Miss Brewis winkled the

womanoutandhasgothersomewhere,givinghercupsoftea."

"Quiteso,"saidtheinspector,approvingly."I'mnotquiteclearyet,SirGeorge,astothecircumstances
of all this. What was the girl doing down there in the boathouse? I understand there's some kind of a
murderhunt-ortreasurehunt,goingon."

SirGeorgenodded.

"Yes.Weallthoughtitratherabrightidea.Doesn'tseemquitesobrightnow.IthinkMissBrewiscan
probablyexplainitalltoyoubetterthanIcan.I'llsendhertoyou,shallI?Unlessthere'sanythingelse
youwanttoknowaboutfirst."

"Notatthemoment,SirGeorge.Imayhavemorequestionstoaskyoulater.TherearepeopleIshall
wanttosee.You,andLadyStubbs,andthepeoplewhodiscoveredthebody.Oneofthem,Igather,is
thewomannovelistwhodesignedthismurderhuntasyoucallit."

"That'sright.MrsOliver.MrsAriadneOliver."

Theinspector'seyebrowswentupslightly.

"Oh-her!"hesaid."Quiteabest-seller.I'vereadalotofherbooksmyself."

"She'sabitupsetatpresent,"saidSirGeorge,"naturally,Isuppose.I'lltellheryou'llbewantingher,
shall I? I don't know where my wife is. She seems to have disappeared completely from view.
Somewhereamongthetwoorthreehundred,Isuppose-notthatshe'llbeabletotellyoumuch.Imean
aboutthegirloranythinglikethat.Whowouldyouliketoseefirst?"

"Ithinkperhapsyoursecretary,MissBrewis,andafterthatthegirl'smother."

SirGeorgenoddedandlefttheroom.

ThelocalpoliceconstableRobertHoskins,openedthedoorforhimandshutitafterhewentout.He
thenvolunteeredastatementobviouslyintendedasacommentaryonsomeofSirGeorge'sremarks.

"LadyStubbsisabitwanting,"hesaid,"uphere."

Hetappedhisforehead."That'swhyhesaidshewouldn'tbemuchhelp.Scatty,that'swhatsheis."

"Didhemarryalocalgirl?"

"No.Foreignerofsomesort.Coloured,somesay,butIdon'tthinkthat'ssomyself."

Blandnodded.Hewassilentforamoment,doodlingwithapencilonasheetofpaperinfrontofhim.
Thenheaskedaquestionwhichwasclearlyofftherecord.

"Whodidit,Hoskins?"hesaid.

Ifanyonedidhaveanyideasastowhathadbeengoingon,Blandthought,itwouldbeP.C.Hoskins.
Hoskins was a man of inquisitive mind with a great interest in everybody and everything. He had a
gossiping wife and that, taken with his position as local constable, provided him with vast stores of
informationofapersonalnature.

"Foreigner,ifyouaskme.'Twouldn'tbeanyonelocal.TheTuckersisallright.Nice,respectablefamily.
Nineof'emalltold.Twooftheoldergirlsismarried,oneboyintheNavy,theotherone'sdoinghis
NationalService,anothergirl'sovertoahairdresser'satTorquay.There'sthreeyoungeronesathome,
two boys and a girl." He paused, considering. "None of 'em's what you'd call bright, but Mrs Tucker
keepsherhomenice,cleanasapin-youngestofeleven,shewas.She'sgotheroldfatherlivingwith
her."

Blandreceivedthisinformationinsilence.GiveninHoskins'sparticularidiom,itwasanoutlineofthe
Tuckers'socialpositionandstanding.

"That's why I say it was a foreigner" continued Hoskins. "One of those that stop up to the Hostel at
Hoodown,likely as not.There's some queerones among them -and a lotof goings-on. Be surprised,
youwould,atwhatI'veseen'emdoinginthebushesandthewoods!Everybitasbadaswhatgoesonin
parkedcarsalongtheCommon."

P.C.Hoskinswasbythistimeanabsolutespecialistonthesubjectofsexual"goings-on."Theyformeda
largeportionofhisconversationwhenoffdutyandhavinghispintintheBullandBear.Blandsaid:

"Idon'tthinktherewasanything-well,ofthatkind.Thedoctorwilltellus,ofcourse,assoonashe's
finishedhisexamination."

"Yes,sir,that'llbeuptohim,thatwill.ButwhatIsayis,youneverknowwithforeigners.Turnnasty,
theycan,allinamoment."

InspectorBlandsighedashethoughttohimselfthatitwasnotquiteaseasyasthat.Itwasallverywell
forConstableHoskinstoputtheblameconvenientlyon"foreigners."Thedooropenedandthedoctor
walkedin.

"Donemybit,"hemarked."Shalltheytakeherawaynow?Theotheroutfitshavepackedup."

"SergeantCottrillwillattendtothat,"saidBland."Well,Doc,what'sthefinding?"

"Simpleandstraightforwardasitcanbe,"saidthedoctor."Nocomplications.Garrottedwithapieceof
clothesline.Nothingcouldbesimpleroreasiertodo.Nostruggleofanykindbeforehand.I'dsaythe
kiddidn'tknowwhatwashappeningtoheruntilithadhappened."

"Anysignsofassault?"

"None.Noassault,signsofrape,orinterferenceofanykind."

"Notpresumablyasexualcrime,then?"

"Iwouldn'tsayso,no."Thedoctoradded,"Ishouldn'tsayshe'dbeenaparticularlyattractivegirl."

"Wasshefondoftheboys?"

BlandaddressedthisquestiontoConstableHoskins.

"Iwouldn'tsaythey'dmuchuseforher,"saidConstableHoskins,"thoughmaybeshe'dhavelikeditif
theyhad."

"Maybe,"agreedBland.Hismindwentbacktothepileofcomicpapersintheboathouseandtheidle
scrawls on the margin. "Johnny goes with Kate," "Georgie Porgie kisses hikers in the wood." He
thought there had been a little wishful thinking there. On the whole, though, it seemed unlikely that

there was a sex angle to Marlene Tucker's death. Although, of course, one never knew... There were
always those queer criminal individuals, men with a secret lust to kill, who specialised in immature
femalevictims.Oneofthesemightbepresentinthispartoftheworldduringthisholidayseason.He
almostbelievedthatitmustbeso-forotherwisehecouldreallyseenoreasonforsopointlessacrime.
However,hethought,we'reonlyatthebeginning.I'dbetterseewhatallthesepeoplehavetotellme.

"Whatabouttimeofdeath?"heasked.

Thedoctorglancedoverattheclockandhisownwatch.

"Justafterhalf-pastfivenow,"hesaid."sayIsawherabouttwentypastfive-she'dbeendeadaboutan
hour. Roughly, that is to say. Put it between four o'clock and twenty to five. Let you know if there's
anything more after the autopsy." He added: "You'll get the proper report with the long words in due
course.I'llbeoffnow.I'vegotsomepatientstosee."

HelefttheroomandInspectorBlandaskedHoskinstofetchMissBrewis.Hisspiritsrosealittlewhen
Miss Brewis came into the room. Here, as he recognised at once, was efficiency. He would get clear
answerstohisquestions,definitetimesandnomuddle-headedness.

"MrsTucker'sinmysitting-room,"MissBrewissaidasshesatdown."I'vebrokenthenewstoherand
givenhersometea.She'sveryupset,naturally.ShewantedtoseethebodybutItoldheritwasmuch
betternot.MrTuckergetsoffworkatsixo'clockandwascomingtojoinhiswifehere.Itoldthemto
look out for him and bring him along when he arrives. The younger children are at the fête still, and
someoneiskeepinganeyeonthem."

"Excellent,"saidInspectorBland,withapproval."IthinkbeforeIseeMrsTuckerIwouldliketohear
whatyouandLadyStubbscantellme."

"Idon'tknowwhereLadyStubbsis,"saidMissBrewisacidly."Iratherimagineshegotboredwiththe
fête and has wandered off somewhere, but I don't expect she can tell you anything more than I can.
Whatexactlyisitthatyouwanttoknow?"

"Iwanttoknowallthedetailsofthismurderhuntfirstandofhowthisgirl,MarleneTucker,cametobe
takingapartinit."

"That'squiteeasy."

SuccinctlyandclearlyMissBrewisexplainedtheideaofthemurderhuntasanoriginalattractionfor
thefête,theengagingofMrsOliver,thewell-knownnovelist,toarrangethematter,andashortoutline
oftheplot.

"Originally,"MissBrewisexplained,"MrsAlecLeggewastohavetakenthepartofthevictim."

"MrsAlecLegge?"queriedtheinspector.

ConstableHoskinsputinanexplanatoryword.

"SheandMrLeggehavetheLawders'cottage,thepinkonedownbyMillCreek.Camehereamonth
ago,theydid.Twoorthreemonthstheygotitfor."

"Isee.AndMrsLegge,yousay,wastobetheoriginalvictim?Whywasthatchanged?"

"Well,oneeveningMrsLeggetoldallourfortunesandwassogoodatitthatitwasdecidedwe'dhavea
fortune teller's tent as one of the attractions and that Mrs Legge should put on Eastern dress and be
Madame Zuleika and tell fortunes at half a crown a time. I don't think that's really illegal, is it.
Inspector?Imeanit'susuallydoneatthesekindoffêtes."

InspectorBlandsmiledfaintly.

"Fortunetellingandrafflesaren'talwaystakentooseriously,MissBrewis,"hesaid."Nowandthenwe
haveto-er-makeanexample."

"Butusuallyyou'retactful?Well,that'showitwas.MrsLeggeagreedtohelpusthatwayandsowehad
tofindsomebodyelsetodothebody.ThelocalGuideswerehelpingusatthefête,andIthinksomeone
suggestedthatoneoftheGuideswoulddoquitewell."

"Justwhowasitwhosuggestedthat,MissBrewis?"

"Really,Idon'tquiteknow...IthinkitmayhavebeenMrsMasterton,theMember'swife.No,perhapsit
wasCaptainWarburton...Really,Ican'tbesure.But,anyway,itwassuggested."

"Isthereanyreasonwhythisparticulargirlshouldhavebeenchosen?"

"N-no, I don't think so. Her people are tenants on the estate, and her mother, Mrs Tucker, sometimes
comestohelpinthekitchen.Idon'tknowquitewhywesettledonher.Probablyhernamecametomind
first.Weaskedherandsheseemedquitepleasedtodoit."

"Shedefinitelywantedtodoit?"

"Oh,yes,Ithinkshewasflattered.Shewasaverymoronickindofgirl,"continuedMissBrewis,"she
couldn't have acted a part or anything like that. But this was all very simple, and she felt she'd been
singledoutfromtheothersandwaspleasedaboutit."

"Whatexactlywasitthatshehadtodo?"

"Shehadtostayintheboathouse.Whensheheardanyonecomingtothedoorshewastoliedownon
thefloor,putthecordroundherneckandshamdead."MissBrewis'stoneswerecalmandbusiness-like.
Thefactthatthegirlwhowastoshamdeadhadactuallybeenfounddeaddidnotatthemomentappear
toaffectheremotionally.

"Rather a boring way for the girl to spend the afternoon when she might have been at the fête,"
suggestedInspectorBland.

"Isupposeitwasinaway,"saidMissBrewis,"butonecan'thaveeverything,canone?AndMarlene
didenjoytheideaofbeingthebody.Itmadeherfeelimportant.Shehadapileofpapersandthingsto
readtokeepheramused."

"Andsomethingtoeataswell?"saidtheinspector."Inoticedtherewasatraydowntherewithaplate
andglass."

"Oh, yes, she had a big plate of sweet cakes, and a raspberry fruit drink. I took them down to her
myself."

Blandlookedupsharply.

"Youtookthemdowntoher?When?"

"Aboutthemiddleoftheafternoon."

"Whattimeexactly?Canyouremember?"

MissBrewisconsideredamoment.

"Let me see. Children's Fancy Dress was judged, there was a little delay - Lady Stubbs couldn't be
found,butMrsFolliattookherplace,sothatwasallright...Yes,itmusthavebeen-I'malmostsure-
aboutfiveminutespastfourthatIcollectedthecakesandthefruitdrink."

"Andyoutookthemdowntoherattheboathouseyourself.Whattimedidyoureachthere?"

"Oh,ittakesaboutfiveminutestogodowntotheboathouse-aboutquarterpastfour,Ishouldthink."

"AndatquarterpastfourMarleneTuckerwasaliveandwell?"

"Yes, of course," said Miss Brewis, "and very eager to know how people were getting on with the
murderhunt,too.I'mafraidIcouldn'ttellher.I'dbeentoobusywiththesideshowsonthelawn,butI
didknowthatalotofpeoplehadenteredforit.Twentyorthirtytomyownknowledge.Probablyagood
manymore."

"HowdidyoufindMarlenewhenyouarrivedattheboathouse?"

"I'vejusttoldyou."

"No, no, I don't mean that. I mean, was she lying on the floor shamming dead when you opened the
door?"

"Oh,no,"saidMissBrewis,"becauseIcalledoutjustbeforeIgotthere.SosheopenedthedoorandI
tookthetrayinandputitonthetable."

"At a quarter past four," said Bland, writing it down, "Marlene Tucker was alive and well. You will
understand,I'msure,MissBrewis,thatthatisaveryimportantpoint.Youarequitesureofyourtimes?"

"Ican'tbeexactlysurebecauseIdidn'tlookatmywatch,butIhadlookedatitashorttimepreviously

andthat'sasnearasIcanget."Sheadded,withasuddendawningrealisationoftheinspector'spoint,
"Doyoumeanthatitwassoonafter-"

"Itcan'thavebeenverylongafter,MissBrewis."

"Oh,dear,"saidMissBrewis.

Itwasaratherinadequateexpression,butneverthelessitconveyedwellenoughMissBrewis'sdismay
andconcern.

"Now,MissBrewis,onyourwaydowntotheboathouseandonyourwaybackagaintothehouse,did
youmeetanybodyorseeanyoneneartheboathouse?"

MissBrewisconsidered.

"No,"shesaid,"Ididn'tmeetanyone.Imighthave,ofcourse,becausethegroundsareopentoeveryone
this afternoon. But on the whole, people tend to stay round the lawn and the side shows and all that.
They like to go round the kitchen gardens and the greenhouses, but they don't walk through the
woodlands as much as I should have thought they would. People tend to herd together very much at
theseaffairs,don'tyouthinkso,Inspector?"

Theinspectorsaidthatthatwasprobablyso.

"Though,Ithink,"saidMissBrewis,withsuddenmemory,"thattherewassomeoneintheFolly."

"TheFolly?"

"Yes.Asmallwhitetemplearrangement.Itwasputupjustayearortwoago.It'stotherightofthepath
asyougodowntotheboathouse.Therewassomeoneinthere.Acourtingcouple,Isuspect.Someone
waslaughingandthensomeonesaid,'Hush.'"

"Youdon'tknowwhothiscourtingcouplewas?"

"I'venoidea.Youcan'tseethefrontoftheFollyfromthepath.Thesidesandbackenclosed."

Theinspectorthoughtforamomentortwo,butitdidnotseemlikelytohimthatthecouple-whoever
theywere-intheFollywereimportant.Betterfindoutwhotheywere,perhaps,becausetheyintheir
turnmighthaveseensomeonecomingupfromorgoingdowntotheboathouse.

"Andtherewasnooneelseonthepath?Nooneatall?"heinsisted.

"I see what you're driving at, of course," said Miss Brewis. "I can only assure you that I didn't meet
anyone.Butthen,yousee,Ineedn'thave.Imean,iftherehadbeenanyoneonthepathwhodidn'twant
metoseethem,it'sthesimplestthingintheworldjusttoslipbehindsomeoftherhododendronbushes.
Thepath'sborderedonbothsideswithshrubsandrhododendronbushes.Ifanyonewhohadnobusiness
tobethereheardsomeonecomingalongthepath,theycouldslipoutofsightinamoment."

Theinspectorshiftedontoanothertack.

"Isthereanythingyouknowaboutthisgirlyourself,thatcouldhelpus?"heasked.

"Ireallyknownothingabouther,"saidMissBrewis."Idon'tthinkI'deverspokentoheruntilthisaffair.
She'soneofthegirlsI'veseenabout-Iknowhervaguelybysight,butthat'sall."

"Andyouknownothingabouther-nothingthatcouldbehelpful?"

"Idon'tknowofanyreasonwhyanyoneshouldwanttomurderher,"saidMissBrewis."Infactitseems
tome,ifyouknowwhatImean,quiteimpossiblethatsuchathingshouldhavehappened.Icanonly
thinkthattosomeunbalancedmind,thefactthatshewastobethemurderedvictimmighthaveinduced
thewishtomakeherarealvictim.Buteventhatsoundsveryfarfetchedandsilly."

Blandsighed.

"Oh,well,"hesaid,"IsupposeI'dbetterseethemothernow."

MrsTuckerwasathin,hatchet-facedwomanwithstringyblondehairandasharpnose.Hereyeswere
reddened with crying, but she had herself in hand now, and was ready to answer the inspector's
questions.

"Doesn't seem right that a thing like that should happen," she said. "You read of these things in the

papers,butthatitshouldhappentoourMarlene-"

"I'mvery,verysorryaboutit,"saidInspectorBlandgently."WhatIwantyoutodoistothinkashardas
youcanandtellmeifthereisanyonewhocouldhavehadanyreasontoharmthegirl?"

"I'vebeenthinkingaboutthatalready,"saidMrsTucker,withasuddensniff."Thoughtandthought,I
have,butIcan'tgetanywhere.WordswiththeteacheratschoolMarlenehadnowandagain,andshe'd
haveherquarrelsnowandagainwithoneofthegirlsorboys,butnothingseriousinanyway.There's
noonewhohadarealdownonher,nobodywho'ddoheramischief."

"Shenevertalkedtoyouaboutanyonewhomighthavebeenanenemyofanykind?"

"Shetalkedsillyoften,Marlenedid,butnothingofthatkind.Itwasallmake-upandhair-dos,andwhat
she'd like to do to her face and herself. You know what girls are. Far too young she was, to put on
lipstickandallthatmuck,andherDadtoldherso,andsodidI.Butthat'swhatshe'ddowhenshegot
holdofanymoney.Buyherselfscentandlipsticksandhidethemaway."

Blandnodded.Therewasnothingherethatcouldhelphim.Anadolescent,rathersillygirl,herheadfull
offilmstarsandglamour-therewerehundredsofMarlenes.

"WhatherDad'llsay,Idon'tknow,"saidMrsTucker."Cominghereanyminutehe'llbe,expectingto
enjoyhimself.He'sarareshotatthecoconuts,heis."

Shebrokedownsuddenlyandbegantosob.

"Ifyouaskme,"shesaid,"it'soneofthemnastyforeignersupattheHostel.Youneverknowwhereyou
arewithforeigners.Nicespokenasmostofthemare,someoftheshirtstheywearyouwouldn'tbelieve.
Shirtswithgirlsonthemwiththesebikinis,astheycallthem.Andallofthemsunningthemselveshere
andtherewithnoshirtsatallon-itallleadstotrouble.That'swhatIsay!"

Stillweeping,MrsTuckerwasescortedfromtheroombyConstableHoskins.Blandreflectedthatthe
local verdict seemed to be the comfortable and probably age-long one of attributing every tragic
occurrencetounspecifiedforeigners.

Chapter8

"Got a sharp tongue, she has" Hoskins said when he returned. "Nags her husband and bullies her old
father.Idaresayshe'sspokesharptothegirlonceortwiceandnowshe'sfeelingbadaboutit.Notthat
girlsmindwhattheirmotherssaytothem.Dropsoff'emlikewateroffaduck'sback."

InspectorBlandcutshortthesegeneralreflectionsandtoldHoskinstofetchMrsOliver.

The inspector was slightly startled by the sight of Mrs Oliver. He had not expected anything so
voluminous,sopurpleandinsuchastateofemotionaldisturbance.

"I feel awful," said Mrs Oliver, sinking down in the chair in front of him like a purple blancmange.
"AWFUL,"sheaddedinwhatwereclearlycapitalletters.

Theinspectormadeafewambiguousnoises,andMrsOliverswepton.

"Because,yousee,it'smymurder.Ididit!"

ForastartledmomentInspectorBlandthoughtthatMrsOliverwasaccusingherselfofthecrime.

"Why I should ever have wanted the Yugoslavian wife of an Atom Scientist to be the victim, I can't
imagine,"saidMrsOliver,sweepingherhandsthroughherelaboratehair-doinafrenziedmannerwith
theresultthatshelookedslightlydrunk."Absolutelyasinineofme.Itmightjustaswellhavebeenthe
secondgardenerwhowasn'twhatheseemed-andthatwouldn'thavematteredhalfasmuchbecause,
afterall,mostmencanlookafterthemselves.Iftheycan'tlookafterthemselvestheyoughttobeableto
look after themselves, and in that case I shouldn't have minded so much. Men get killed and nobody
minds-Imean,nobodyexcepttheirwivesandsweetheartsandchildrenandthingslikethat."

At this point the inspector entertained unworthy suspicions about Mrs Oliver. This was aided by the
faint fragrance of brandy which was wafted towards him. On their return to the house Hercule Poirot
hadfirmlyadministeredtohisfriendthissovereignremedyforshocks.

"I'mnotmadandI'mnotdrunk,"saidMrsOliverintuitivelydivininghisthoughts,"thoughIdaresay
withthatmanaboutwhothinksIdrinklikeafishandsayseverybodysaysso,youprobablythinkso
too."

"What man?" demanded the inspector, his mind switching from the unexpected introduction of the
secondgardenerintothedrama,tothefurtherintroductionofanunspecifiedman.

"FrecklesandaYorkshireaccent,"saidMrsOliver."But,asIsay,I'mnotdrunkandI'mnotmad.I'm
justupset.ThoroughlyUPSET,"sherepeated,oncemoreresortingtocapitalletters.

"I'msure,madam,itmusthavebeenmostdistressing,"saidtheinspector.

"Theawfulthingis,"saidMrsOliver,"thatshewantedtobeasexmaniac'svictim,andnowIsuppose
shewas-is-whichshouldImean?"

"There'snoquestionofasexmaniac,"saidtheinspector.

"Isn'tthere?"saidMrsOliver."Well,thankGodforthat.Oratleast,Idon'tknow.Perhapsshewould
ratherhavehaditthatway.Butifhewasn'tasexmaniac,whydidanybodymurderher,Inspector?"

"Iwashoping,"saidtheinspector,"thatyoucouldhelpmethere."

Undoubtedly, he thought, Mrs Oliver had put her finger on the crucial point. Why should anyone
murderMarlene?

"Ican'thelpyou,"saidMrsOliver."Ican'timaginewhocouldhavedoneit.Atleast,ofcourse,Ican,
imagine-Icanimagineanything!That'sthetroublewithme.Icanimaginethingsnow-thisminute,I
couldevenmakethemsoundallright,butofcoursenoneofthemwouldbetrue.Imean,shecouldhave
beenmurderedbysomeonewhojustlikesmurderinggirls(butthat'stooeasy)-and,anyway,toomuch
ofacoincidencethatsomebodyshouldbeatthisfêtewho>wantedtomurderagirl.Andhowwouldhe
knowthatMarlenewasintheboathouse?Orshemighthaveknownsomesecretaboutsomebody'slove
affairs,orshemayhaveseensomeoneburyabodyatnight,orshemayhaverecognisedsomebodywho
was concealing his identity - or she may have known a secret about where some treasure was buried
duringthewar.Orthemaninthelaunchmayhavethrownsomebodyintotheriverandshesawitfrom
thewindowoftheboathouse-orshemayevenhavegotholdofsomeveryimportantmessageinsecret
codeandnotknownwhatitwasherself."

"Please!"Theinspectorhelduphishand.Hisheadwaswhirling.

Mrs Oliver stopped obediently. It was clear that she could have gone on in this vein for some time,
althoughitseemedtotheinspectorthatshehadalreadyenvisagedeverypossibility,likelyorotherwise.

Outoftherichnessofthematerialpresentedtohim,heseizedupononephrase.

"What did you mean, Mrs Oliver, by the 'man in the launch'? Are you just imagining a man in a
launch?"

"Somebodytoldmehe'dcomeinalaunch,"saidMrsOliver."Ican'trememberwho.Theonewewere
talkingaboutatbreakfast,Imean,"sheadded.

"Please." The inspector's tone was now pleading. He had had no idea before what the writers of
detective stories were like. He knew that Mrs Oliver had written forty-odd books. It seemed to him
astonishing at the moment that she had not written a hundred and forty. He rapped out a peremptory
inquiry."Whatisallthisaboutamanatbreakfastwhocameinalaunch?"

"Hedidn'tcomeinthelaunchatbreakfasttime,"saidMrsOliver,"itwasayacht.Atleast,Idon'tmean
thatexactly.Itwasaletter."

"Well,whatwasit?"demandedBland."Ayachtoraletter?"

"Itwasaletter,"saidMrsOliver,"toLadyStubbs.Fromacousininayacht.Andshewasfrightened,"
sheended.

"Frightened?Whatof?"

"Of him, I suppose," said Mrs Oliver. "Anybody could see it. She was terrified of him and she didn't
wanthimtocome,andIthinkthat'swhyshe'shidingnow."

"Hiding?"saidtheinspector.

"Well,sheisn'taboutanywhere,"saidMrsOliver."Everyone'sbeenlookingforher.AndIthinkshe's
hidingbecauseshe'safraidofhimanddoesn'twanttomeethim."

"Whoisthisman?"demandedtheinspector.

"You'd better ask M. Poirot," said Mrs Oliver. "Because he spoke to him and I haven't. His name's
Estaban-no,itisn't,thatwasinmyplot.DeSousa,that'swhathisnameis,EtiennedeSousa."

Butanothernamehadcaughttheinspector'sattention.

"Whodidyousay?"heasked."MrPoirot?"

"Yes.HerculePoirot.Hewaswithmewhenwefoundthebody."

"Hercule Poirot... I wonder now. Can it be the same man? A Belgian, a small man with a very big
moustache."

"Anenormousmoustache,"agreedMrsOliver."Yes.Doyouknowhim?"

"It'sagoodmanyyearssinceImethim.Iwasayoungsergeantatthetime."

"Youmethimonamurdercase?"

"Yes,Idid.What'shedoingdownhere?"

"Hewastogiveawaytheprizes,"saidMrsOliver.

Therewasamomentaryhesitationbeforeshegavethisanswer,butitwentunperceivedbytheinspector.

"Andhewaswithyouwhenyoudiscoveredthebody,"saidBland."H'm,I'dliketotalktohim."

"ShallIgethimforyou?"MrsOlivergatheredupherpurpledraperieshopefully.

"There's nothing more that you can add, madam? Nothing more that you think could help us in any
way?"

"Idon'tthinkso,"saidMrsOliver."Idon'tknowanything.AsIsay,Icouldimaginereasons-"

Theinspectorcuthershort.HehadnowishtohearanymoreofMrsOliver'simaginedsolutions.They
werefartooconfusing.

"Thankyouverymuch,madam,"hesaidbriskly."Ifyou'llaskM.PoirottocomeandspeaktomehereI
shallbeverymuchobligedtoyou."

MrsOliverlefttheroom.P.O.Hoskinsinquiredwithinterest:

"Who'sthisMonsieurPoirot,sir?"

"You'd describe him probably as a scream," said Inspector Bland. "Kind of music hall parody of a
Frenchman,butactuallyhe'saBelgian.Butinspiteofhisabsurdities,he'sgotbrains.Hemustbeafair
agenow."

"WhataboutthisDeSousa?"askedtheconstable."Thinkthere'sanythinginthat,sir?"

Inspector Bland did not hear the question. He was struck by a fact which, though he had been told it
severaltimes,wasonlynowbeginningtoregister.

FirstithadbeenSirGeorge,irritatedandalarmed."Mywifeseemstohavedisappeared.Ican'tthink
whereshehasgotto."ThenMissBrewis,contemptuous:"LadyStubbswasnottobefound.She'dgot
boredwiththeshow."AndnowMrsOliverwithhertheorythatLadyStubbswashiding.

"Eh?What?"hesaidabsently.

ConstableHoskinsclearedhisthroat.

"Iwasaskingyou,sir,ifyouthoughttherewasanythinginthisbusinessofDeSousa-whoeverheis."

Constable Hoskins was clearly delighted at having a specific foreigner rather than foreigners in the
mass,introducedintothecase.ButInspectorBland'smindwasrunningonadifferentcourse.

"IwantLadyStubbs,"hesaidcurtly."Getholdofherforme.Ifsheisn'tabout,lookforher."

Hoskinslookedslightlypuzzledbuthelefttheroomobediently.Inthedoorwayhepausedandfellback
a little to allow Hercule Poirot to enter. He looked back over his shoulder with some interest before

closingthedoorbehindhim.

"Idon'tsuppose,"saidBland,risingandholdingouthishand,"thatyourememberme,M.Poirot."

"Butassuredly,"saidPoirot."Itis-nowgivemeamoment,justalittlemoment.Itistheyoungsergeant
-yes,SergeantBlandwhomImetfourteen-no,fifteenyearsago."

"Quiteright.Whatamemory!"

"Notatall.Sinceyourememberme,whyshouldInotrememberyou?"

It would be difficult, Bland thought, to forget Hercule Poirot, and this not entirely for complimentary
reasons.

"Sohereyouare,M.Poirot,"hesaid."Assistingatamurderonceagain."

"Youareright,"saidPoirot."Iwascalleddownheretoassist."

"Calleddowntoassist?"Blandlookedpuzzled.

Poirotsaidquickly:

"Imean,Iwasaskeddownheretogiveawaytheprizesofthismurderhunt."

"SoMrsOlivertoldme."

"She told you nothing else?" Poirot said it with apparent carelessness. He was anxious to discover
whetherMrsOliverhadgiventheInspectoranyhintoftherealmotiveswhichhadledhertoinsiston
Poirot'sjourneytoDevon.

"Toldmenothingelse?Sheneverstoppedtellingmethings.Everypossibleandimpossiblemotivefor
thegirl'smurder.Shesetmyheadspinning.Phew!Whatanimagination!"

"Sheearnsherlivingbyherimagination,monami,"saidPoirotdryly.

"ShementionedamancalledDeSousa-didsheimaginethat?"

"No,thatissoberfact."

"There was something about a letter at breakfast and a yacht and coming up the river in a launch- I
couldn'tmakeheadortailofit."

Poirot embarked upon an explanation. He told of the scene at the breakfast table, the letter, Lady
Stubbs'sheadache.

"MrsOliversaidthatLadyStubbswasfrightened.Didyouthinksheasafraid,too?"

"Thatwastheimpressionshegaveme"

"Afraidofthiscousinofhers?Why?"

Poirotshruggedshoulders.

"Ihavenoidea.Allshetoldmewasthathewasbad-abadman.Sheis,youunderstand,alittlesimple.
Subnormal."

"Yes, that seems to be pretty generally known round here. She didn't say she was afraid of this De
Sousa?"

"No."

"Butyouthinkherfearwasreal?"

"Ifitwasnot,thensheisacleveractress,"saidPoirotdryly.

"I'mbeginningtohavesomeoddideasaboutthiscase,"saidBland.Hegotupandwalkedrestlesslyto

andfro."It'sthatcursedwoman'sfault.Ibelieve."

"MrsOliver's?"

"Yes.She'sputalotofmelodramaticideasintomyhead."

"Andyouthinktheymaybetrue?"

"Not all of them - naturally - but one or two of them mightn't be as wild as they sounded. It all
depends..."Hebrokeoffasthedooropenedtore-admitP.C.Hoskins.

"Don'tseemabletofindthelady,sir,"hesaid."She'snotaboutanywhere."

"Iknowthatalready,"saidBlandirritably."Itoldyoutofindher."

"Sergeant Farrell and P.C. Lorimer are searching the grounds, sir," said Hoskins. "She's not in the
house,"headded.

"Findoutfromthemanwho'stakingadmissionticketsatthegateifshe'slefttheplace.Either,onfoot
orinacar."

"Yes,sir."

Hoskinsdeparted.

"Andfindoutwhenshewaslastseenandwhere,"Blandshoutedafterhim.

"Sothatisthewayyourmindisworking,"saidPoirot.

"Itisn'tworkinganywhereyet,"saidBland,"butI'vejustwokenuptothefactthataladywhooughtto
beonthepremisesisn'tonthepremises!AnyIwanttoknowwhy.Tellmewhatmoreyouknowabout
what's-his-nameDeSousa."

Poirotdescribedhismeetingwiththeyoungmanwhohadcomeupthepathfromthequay.

"Heisprobablystillhereatthefête,"hesaid."ShallItellSirGeorgethatyouwanttoseehim?"

"Notforamomentortwo,"saidBland."I'dliketofindoutalittlemorefirst.Whendidyouyourself
lastseeLadyStubbs?"

Poirotcasthismindback.Hefounditdifficulttorememberexactly.Herecalledvagueglimpsesofher
tall, cyclamen-clad figure with the drooping black hat moving about the lawn talking to people,
hoveringhereandthere;occasionallyhewouldhearthatstrangeloudlaughofhers,distinctiveamongst
themanyotherconfusedsounds.

"Ithink,"hesaiddoubtfully,"itmusthavebeennotlongbeforefouro'clock."

"Andwherewasshethen,andwhowasshewith?"

"Shewasinthemiddleofagroupofpeoplenearthehouse."

"WasshetherewhenDeSousaarrived?"

"Idon'tremember.Idon'tthinkso,atleastIdidnotseeher.SirGeorgetoldDeSousathathiswifewas
somewhere about. He seemed surprised, I remember, that she was not judging the Children's Fancy
Dress,asshewassupposedtodo."

"WhattimewasitwhenDeSousaarrived?"

"Itmusthavebeenabouthalf-pastfour,Ishouldthink.IdidnotlookatmywatchsoIcannottellyou
exactly."

"AndLadyStubbshaddisappearedbeforehearrived?"

"Itseemsso."

"Possiblysheranawaysoasnottomeethim,"suggestedtheinspector.

"Possibly,"Poirotagreed.

"Well,shecan'thavegonefar,"saidBland."Weoughttobeabletofindherquiteeasily,andwhenwe
do..."Hebrokeoff.

"Andsupposingyoudon't?"Poirotputthequestionwithacuriousintonationinhisvoice.

"That'snonsense,"saidtheinspectorvigorously."Why?Whatd'youthink'shappenedtoher?"

Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.

"Whatindeed!Onedoesnotknow.Allonedoesknowisthatshehas-disappeared!"

"Dashitall,M.Poirot,you'remakingitsoundquitesinister."

"Perhapsitissinister."

"It'sthemurderofMarleneTuckerthatwe'reinvestigating,"saidtheinspectorseverely.

"Butevidently.So-whythisinterestinDeSousa?DoyouthinkhekilledMarleneTucker?"

InspectorBlandrepliedirrelevantly:

"It'sthatwoman!"

Poirotsmiledfaintly.

"MrsOliver,youmean?"

"Yes.Yousee,M.Poirot,themurderofMarleneTuckerdoesn'tmakesense.Itdoesn'tmakesenseatall.
Here'sanondescript,rathermoronickidfoundstrangledandnotahintofanypossiblemotive."

"AndMrsOliversuppliedyouwithamotive?"

"With a dozen at least! Amongst them she suggested that Marlene might have a knowledge of
somebody'ssecretloveaffair,orthatMarlenemighthavewitnessedsomebodybeingmurdered,orthat
she knew where a buried treasure was hidden, or that she might have seen from the window of the
boathousesomeactionperformedbyDeSousainhislaunchashewasgoinguptheriver."

"Ah.Andwhichofthosetheoriesappealstoyou,moncher?"

"Idon'tknow.ButIcan'thelpthinkingaboutthem.Listen,M.Poirot.Thinkbackcarefully.Wouldyou
say from your impression of what Lady Stubbs said to you this morning that she was afraid of her
cousin'scomingbecausehemight,perhaps,knowsomethingaboutherwhichshedidnotwanttocome
totheearsofherhusband,orwouldyousaythatitwasadirectpersonalfearofthemanhimself?"

Poirothadnohesitationinhisreply.

"Ishouldsayitwasadirectpersonalfearofthemanhimself."

"H'm,"saidInspectorBland."Well,I'dbetterhavealittletalkwiththisyoungmanifhe'sstillaboutthe
place."

Chapter9

Although he had none of Constable Hoskins's ingrained prejudice against foreigners, Inspector Bland
took an instant dislike to Etienne De Sousa. The polished elegance of the young man, his sartorial
perfection,therichflowerysmellofhisbrilliantinedhair,allcombinedtoannoytheinspector.

DeSousawasverysureofhimself,verymuchatease.Healsodisplayed,decorouslyveiled,acertain
aloofamusement.

"Onemustadmit,"hesaid,"thatlifeisfullofsurprises.Iarrivehereonaholidaycruise,Iadmirethe
beautifulscenery,IcometospendanafternoonwithalittlecousinthatIhavenotseenforyears-and
what happens? First I am engulfed in a kind of carnival with coconuts whizzing past my head, and

immediatelyafterwards,passingfromcomedytotragedy,Iamembroiledinamurder."

Helitacigarette,inhaleddeeply,andsaid:

"Notthatitconcernsmeinanyway,thismurder.Indeed,Iamatalosstoknowwhyyoushouldwantto
interviewme."

"Youarrivedhereasastranger,MrDeSousa-"

DeSousainterrupted:

"Andstrangersarenecessarilysuspicious,isthatit?"

"No, no, not at all, sir. No, you don't take my meaning. Your yacht, I understand, is moored in
Helmmouth?"

"Thatisso,yes."

"Andyoucameuptheriverthisafternooninamotorlaunch?"

"Again-thatisso."

"Asyoucameuptheriver,didyounoticeonyourrightasmallboathousejuttingoutintotheriverwith
athatchedroofandalittlemooringquayunderneathit?"

DeSousathrewbackhishandsome,darkheadandfrownedashereflected.

"Letmesee,therewasacreekandasmallgreytiledhouse."

"Fartheruptheriverthanthat,MrDeSousa.Setamongsttrees."

"Ah,yes,Iremembernow.Averypicturesquespot.Ididnotknowitwastheboathouseattachedtothis
house. If I had done so, I would have moored my boat there and come ashore. When I asked for

directionsIhadbeentoldtocomeuptotheferryitselfandgoashoreatthequaythere."

"Quiteso.Andthatiswhatyoudid?"

"ThatiswhatIdid."

"Youdidn'tlandat,ornear,theboathouse?"

DeSousashookhishead.

"Didyouseeanyoneattheboathouseasyoupassed?"

"Seeanyone?No.ShouldIhaveseenanyone?"

"Itwasjustapossibility.Yousee,MrDeSousa,themurderedgirlwasintheboathousethisafternoon.
She was killed there, and she must have been killed at a time not very distant from when you were
passing"

AgainDeSousaraisedhiseyebrows.

"YouthinkImighthavebeenawitnesstothismurder?"

"Themurdertookplaceinsidetheboathouse,butyoumighthaveseenthegirl-shemighthavelooked
out from the window or come out on to the balcony. If you had seen her it would, at any rate, have
narrowedthetimeofdeathforus.If,whenyou'dpassedshe'dbeenstillalive-"

"Ah,Isee.Yes,Isee.Butwhyaskmeparticularly?Thereareplentyofboatsgoingupandownfrom
Helmmouth.Pleasuresteamers.Theypassthewholetime.Whynotaskthem?"

"Weshallaskthem,"saidtheinspect"Neverfear,weshallaskthem.Iamtotakeit,then,thatyousaw
nothingunusualattheboathouse?"

"Nothingwhatever.Therewasnothingtoshowtherewasanyonethere.OfcourseIdidnotlookatit
withanyspecialattention,andIdidnotpassverynear.Somebodymighthavebeenlookingoutofthe

windows,asyousuggest,butifsoIshouldnothaveseenthatperson."Headdedinapolitetone,"Iam
verysorrythatIcannotassistyou."

"Oh,well,"saidInspectorBlandinafriendlymanner,"wecan'thopefortoomuch.Therearejustafew
otherthingsIwouldliketoknow,MrDeSousa."

"Yes?"

"Areyoualonedownhereorhaveyoufriendswithyouonthiscruise?"

"Ihavehadfriendswithmeuntilquiterecently,butforthelastthreedaysIhavebeenonmyown-with
thecrew,ofcourse."

"Andthenameofyouryacht,MrDeSousa?"

"TheEspérance."

"LadyStubbsis,Iunderstand,acousinofyours?"

DeSousashruggedhisshoulders.

"Adistantcousin.Notverynear.Intheislands,youmustunderstand,thereismuchinter-marrying.We
are all cousins of one another. Hattie is a second or third cousin. I have not seen her since she was
practicallyalittlegirl,fourteen-fifteen."

"Andyouthoughtyouwouldpayherasurprisevisittoday?"

"Hardlyasurprisevisit,Inspector.Ihadalreadywrittentoher."

"Iknowthatshereceivedaletterfromyouthismorning,butitwasasurprisetohertoknowthatyou
wereinthiscountry."

"Oh,butyouarewrongthere,Inspector.Iwrotetomycousin-letmesee,threeweeksago.Iwroteto
herfromFrancejustbeforeIcameacrosstothiscountry."

Theinspectorwassurprised.

"YouwrotetoherfromFrancetellingheryouproposedtovisither?"

"Yes. I told her I was going on a yachting cruise and that we should probably arrive at Torquay or
Helmmouthroundaboutthisdate,andthatIwouldletherknowlaterexactlywhenIshouldarrive."

Inspector Bland stared at him. This statement was at complete variance with what he had been told
aboutthearrivalofEtienneDeSousa'sletteratthebreakfasttable.Morethanonewitnesshadtestified
toLadyStubbshavingbeenalarmedandupsetandveryclearlystartledatthecontentsoftheletter.De
Sousareturnedhisstarecalmly.Withalittlesmileheflickedafragmentofdustfromhisknee.

"DidLadyStubbsreplytoyourfirstletter?"theinspectorasked.

DeSousahesitatedforamomentortwobeforeheanswered,thenhesaid:

"It is so difficult to remember... No, I do not think she did. But it was not necessary. I was travelling
about, I had no fixed address. And besides, I do not think my cousin, Hattie, is very good at writing
letters."Headded:"Sheisnot,youknow,veryintelligent,thoughIunderstandthatshehasgrownintoa
verybeautifulwoman."

"Youhavenotyetseenher?"BlandputitintheformofaquestionandDeSousashowedhisteethinan
agreeablesmile.

"Sheseemstobemostunaccountablymissing,"hesaid."Nodoubtthisespècedegalaboresher."

Choosinghiswordscarefully,InspectorBlandsaid:

"Haveyouanyreasontobelieve,MrDeSousa,thatyourcousinmighthavesomereasonforwishingto
avoidyou?"

"Hattiewishtoavoidme?Really,Idonotseewhy.Whatreasoncouldshehave?"

"ThatiswhatIamaskingyou,MrDeSousa."

"YouthinkthatHattiehasabsentedherselffromthisfêteinordertoavoidme?Whatanabsurdidea."

"Shehadnoreason,asfarasyouknow,tobe-shallwesay?-afraidofyouinanyway?"

"Afraid-ofme?"DeSousa'svoicewasscepticalandamused."ButifImaysayso.Inspector,whata
fantasticidea!"

"Yourrelationswithherhavealwaysbeenquiteamicable?"

"ItisasIhavetoldyou.Ihavehadnorelationswithher.Ihavenotseenhersinceshewasachildof
fourteen."

"YetyoulookherupwhenyoucometoEngland?"

"Oh,astothatIhadseenaparagraphaboutherinoneofyoursocietypapers.Itmentionshermaiden
nameandthatsheismarriedtothisrichEnglishman,andIthink'ImustseewhatthelittleHattiehas
turned into. Whether her brains now work better than they used to do.'" He shrugged his shoulders
again."Itwasamerecousinlypoliteness.Agentlecuriosity-nomore."

Again the inspector stared hard at De Sousa. What, he wondered, was going on behind the mocking,
smoothfaçade?Headoptedamoreconfidentialmanner.

"Iwonderifyoucanperhapstellmealittlemoreaboutyourcousin?Hercharacter,herreactions?"

DeSousaappearedpolitelysurprised.

"Really-hasthisanythingtodowiththemurderofthegirlintheboathouse,whichIunderstandisthe
realmatterwithwhichyouoccupyyourself?"

"Itmighthaveaconnection,"saidInspectorBland.

DeSousastudiedhimforamomentortwoinsilence.Thenhesaidwithaslightshrugoftheshoulders:

"Ineverknewmycousinatallwell.Shewasaunitinalargefamilyandnotparticularlyinterestingto
me.ButinanswertoyourquestionIwouldsaytoyouthatalthoughmentallyweak,shewasnot,asfar
asIknow,everpossessedbyanyhomicidaltendencies."

"Really,MrDeSousa,Iwasn'tsuggestingthat!"

"Weren'tyou?Iwonder.Icanseenootherreasonforyourquestion.No,unlessHattiehaschangedvery
much, she is not homicidal." He rose. "I am sure that you cannot want to ask me anything further,
Inspector.Icanonlywishyoueverypossiblesuccessintrackingdownthemurderer."

"YouarenotthinkingofleavingHelmmouthforadayortwo,Ihope,MrDeSousa?"

"Youspeakverypolitely,Inspector.Isthatanorder?"

"Justarequest,sir."

"Thank you. I propose to stay in Helmmouth for two days. Sir George has very kindly asked me to
comeandstayinthehouse,butIprefertoremainontheEspérance.Ifyoushouldwanttoaskmeany
furtherquestions,thatiswhereyouwillfindme."

Hebowedpolitely.

P.C.Hoskinsopenedthedoorforhim,andhewentout.

"Smarmysortoffellow,"mutteredtheinspectortohimself.

"Aah,"saidP.C.Hoskinsincompleteagreement.

"Say she is homicidal if you like," went on the inspector, to himself. "Why should she attack a
nondescriptgirl?There'dbenosenseinit."

"Youneverknowwiththebarmyones,"saidHoskins.

"Thequestionreallyis,howbarmyisshe?"

Hoskinsshookhisheadsapiently.

"GotalowI.Q.,Ireckon,"hesaid.

Theinspectorlookedathimwithannoyance.

"Don'tbringoutthesenew-fangledtermslikeaparrot.Idon'tcareifshe'sgotahighI.Q.oralowI.Q.
All I care about is, is she the sort of woman who'd think it funny, or desirable, or necessary, to put a
cordroundagirl'sneckandstrangleher?Andwherethedevilisthewoman,anyway?Gooutandsee
howFrank'sgettingon."

Hoskinsleftobediently,andreturnedamomentortwolaterwithSergeantCottrell,abriskyoungman
with a good opinion of himself, who always managed to annoy his superior officer. Inspector Bland
muchpreferredtheruralwisdomofHoskinstothesmartknow-allattitudeofFrankCottrell.

"Stillsearchingthegrounds,sir,"saidCottrell."Theladyhasn'tpassedoutthroughthegate,we'requite
sureofthat.It'sthesecondgardenerwho'stheregivingouttheticketsandtakingtheadmissionmoney.
He'llswearshehasn'tleft."

"Thereareotherwaysofleavingthanbythemaingate,Isuppose?"

"Oh,yes,sir.There'sthepathdowntotheferrybuttheoldboydownthere-Merdell,hisnameis-is
also quite positive that she hasn't left that way. He's about a hundred, but pretty reliable, I think. He
described quite clearly how the foreign gentleman arrived in his launch and asked the way to Nasse
House.Theoldmantoldhimhemustgouptheroadtothegateandpayforadmission.Buthesaidthe
gentlemanseemedtoknownothingaboutthefêteandsaidhewasarelationofthefamily.Sotheold
man set him on the path up from the ferry through the woods. Merdell seems to have been hanging
aboutthequayalltheafternoonsohe'dbeprettysuretohaveseenherladyshipifshe'dcomethatway.
Thenthere'sthetopgatethatleadsoverthefieldstoHoodownPark,butthat'sbeenwiredupbecauseof
trespassers,soshedidn'tgothroughthere.Seemsasthoughshemustbestillhere,doesn'tit?"

"Thatmaybeso,"saidtheinspector,"butthere'snothingtopreventher,isthere,fromslippingundera
fenceandgoingoffacrosscountry?SirGeorgeisstillcomplainingoftrespassingherefromthehostel
nextdoor,Iunderstand.Ifyoucangetinthewaythetrespassersgetin,youcangetoutthesameway,I
suppose."

"Oh,yes,sir,indubitably,sir.ButI'vetalkedtohermaid,sir.She'swearing-"Cottrellconsultedapaper
inhishand-"adressofcyclamencrêpegeorgette(whateverthatis),alargeblackhat,blackcourtshoes
withfour-inchfrenchheels.Notthesortofthingsyou'dwearforacross-countryrun."

"Shedidn'tchangeherclothes?"

"No. I went into that with the maid. There's nothing missing - nothing whatever. She didn't pack a
suitcase or anything of that kind. She didn't even change her shoes. Every pair's there and accounted
for."

InspectorBlandfrowned.Unpleasantpossibilitieswererisinginhismind.Hesaidcurtly;

"Getmethatsecretarywomanagain-Bruce-whateverhernameis."

II

MissBrewiscameinlookingrathermoreruffledthanusual,andalittleoutofbreath.

"Yes,Inspector?"shesaid."Youwantedme?Ifitisn'turgent.SirGeorgeisinaterriblestateand-"

"What'sheinastateabout?"

"He'sonlyjustrealisedthatLadyStubbsis-well,reallymissing.Itoldhimshe'sprobablyonlygone
for a walk in the woods or something, but he's got it into his head that something's happened to her.
Quiteabsurd."

"Itmightnotbesoabsurd,MissBrewis.Afterallwe'vehadone-murderherethisafternoon."

"Yousurelydon'tthinkthatLadyStubbs-?Butthat'sridiculous!LadyStubbscanlookafterherself."

"Canshe?"

"Ofcourseshecan!She'sagrownwoman,isn'tshe?"

"Butratherahelplessone,byallaccounts"

"Nonsense," said Miss Brewis. "It suits Lady Stubbs now and then to play the helpless nitwit if she
doesn'twanttodoanything.Ittakesherhusbandandin,Idaresay,butitdoesn'ttakemein!"

"Youdon'tlikeherverymuch,MissBrewis?"

Blandsoundedgentlyinterested.

MissBrewis'slipsclosedinathinline.

"It'snotmybusinesseithertolikeordislikeher,"shesaid.

ThedoorburstopenandSirGeorgecamein.

"Lookhere,"hesaidviolently,"you'vegottodosomething.Where'sHattie?You'vegottofindHattie.
What the hell's going on round here I don't know. This confounded fête - some ruddy homicidal
maniac's got in here, paying his half-crown and looking like everyone else, spending his afternoon
goingroundmurderingpeople.That'swhatitlooksliketome."

"Idon'tthinkweneedtakesuchanexaggeratedviewasthat,SirGeorge."

"It'sallverywellforyousittingtherebehindthetable,writingthingsdown.WhatIwantismywife."

"I'mhavingthegroundssearched,SirGeorge."

"Why did nobody tell me she'd disappeared? She's been missing a couple of hours now, it seems. I
thoughtitwasoddthatshedidn'tturnuptojudgetheChildren'sFancyDressstuff,butnobodytoldme
she'dreallygone."

"Nobodyknew,"saidtheinspector.

"Well,someoneoughtto'veknown.Somebodyoughttohavenoticed."

HeturnedonMissBrewis.

"Yououghttohaveknown,Amanda,youwerekeepinganeyeonthings."

"Ican'tbeeverywhere,"saidMissBrewis.Shesoundedsuddenlyalmosttearful."I'vegotsomuchto
seeto.IfLadyStubbschosetowanderaway-"

"Wanderaway?Whyshouldshewanderaway?She'dnoreasontowanderawayunlessshewantedto
avoidthatdagofellow."

Blandseizedhisopportunity.

"ThereissomethingIwanttoaskyou,"hesaid."DidyourwifereceivealetterfromMrDeSousasome
threeweeksago,tellingherhewascomingtothiscountry?"

SirGeorgelookedastonished.

"No,ofcourseshedidn't."

"You'resureofthat?"

"Oh,quitesure.Hattiewouldhavetoldme.Why,shewasthoroughlystartledandupsetwhenshegot
hisletterthismorning.Itmoreorlessknockedherout.Shewaslyingdownmostofthemorningwitha
headache."

"Whatdidshesaytoyouprivatelyabouthercousin'svisit?Whydidshedreadseeinghimsomuch?"

SirGeorgelookedratherembarrassed.

"BlessedifIreallyknow,"hesaid."Shejustkeptsayingthathewaswicked."

"Wicked?Inwhatway?"

"Shewasn'tveryarticulateaboutit.Justwentonratherlikeachildsayingthathewasawickedman.
Bad;andthatshewishedhewasn'tcominghere.Shesaidhe'ddonebadthings."

"Donebadthings?When?"

"Oh,longago.IshouldimaginethisEtienneDeSousawastheblacksheepofthefamilyandthatHattie
pickedupoddsandendsabouthimduringherchildhoodwithoutunderstandingthemverywell.Andas
aresultshe'sgotasortofhorrorofhim.Ithoughtitwasjustachildishhangovermyself.Mywifeis
ratherchildishsometimes.Haslikesanddislikes,butcan'texplainthem."

"Youaresureshedidnotparticulariseinanyway,SirGeorge?"

SirGeorgelookeduneasy.

"Iwouldn'twantyoutogoby-er-bywhatshesaid."

"Thenshedidsaysomething?"

"Allright.I'llletyouhaveit.Whatshesaidwas-andshesaiditseveraltimes-'Hekillspeople.'"

Chapter10

"Hekillspeople,"InspectorBlandrepeated.

"Idon'tthinkyououghttotakeittooseriously,"saidSirGeorge."Shekeptrepeatingitandsaying,'He
killspeople,'butshecouldn'ttellmewhohekilledorwhenorwhy.Ithoughtmyselfitwasjustsome
queer,childlikememory-troublewiththenatives-somethinglikethat."

"Yousayshecouldn'ttellyouanythingdefinite-doyoumeancouldn't,SirGeorge-ormightithave

beenwouldn't?"

"I don't think..." He broke off. "I don't know. You've muddled me. As I say, I didn't take any of it
seriously.Ithoughtperhapsthiscousinhadteasedherabitwhenshewasakid-somethingofthatkind.
It'sdifficulttoexplaintoyoubecauseyoudon'tknowmywife.Iamdevotedtoher,buthalfthetimeI
don'tlistentowhatshesaysbecauseitjustdoesn'tmakesense.Anyway,thisDeSousafellowcouldn't
have had anything to do with all this - don't tell me he lands here off a yacht and goes straight away
throughthewoodsandkillsawretchedGirlGuideinaboathouse!Whyshouldhe?"

"I'mnotsuggestingthatanythinglikethathappened,"saidInspectorBland,"butyoumustrealise,Sir
George,thatinlookingforthemurdererofMarleneTuckerthefieldisamorerestrictedonethanone
mightthinkatfirst."

"Restricted!" Sir George stared. "You've got the whole ruddy fête to choose from, haven't you? Two
hundred-threehundred-people?Anyoneof'emmighthavedoneit."

"Yes,Ithoughtsoatfirst,butfromwhatI'velearntnowthat'shardlyso.TheboathousedoorhasaYale
lock.Nobodycouldcomeinfromoutsidewithoutakey."

"Well,therewerethreekeys."

"Exactly.OnekeywasthefinalclueinthisMurderHunt.Itisstillconcealedinthehydrangeawalkat
the very top of the garden. The second key was in the possession of Mrs Oliver, the organiser of the
MurderHunt.Whereisthethirdkey,SirGeorge?"

"Itoughttobeinthedrawerofthatdeskwhereyou'resitting.No,theright-handonewithalotofthe
otherestateduplicates."

Hecameoverandrummagedinthedrawer.

"Yes.Hereitisallright."

"Thenyousee,"saidInspectorBland,"whatthatmeans?Theonlypeoplewhocouldhavegotintothe
boathousewerefirst,thepersonwhohadcompletedtheMurderHuntandfoundthekey(whichasfaras
we know, did not happen). Second, Mrs Oliver or some member of the household to whom she may
havelentherkey,and,third,someonewhomMarleneherselfadmittedtotheroom."

"Well,thatlatterpointcoversprettywelleveryone,doesn'tit?"

"Veryfarfromit,"saidInspectorBland."IfIunderstandthearrangementofthisMurderHuntcorrectly,
whenthegirlheardanyoneapproachingthedoorshewastoliedownandenactthepartoftheVictim,
andwaittobediscoveredbythepersonwhohadfoundthelastclue-thekey.Therefore,asyoumust
seeforyourself,theonlypeoplewhomshewouldhaveadmitted,hadtheycalledtoherfromoutside
andaskedhertodoso,werethepeoplewhohadactuallyarrangedtheMurderHunt.Anyinmate,that
is,ofthishouse-thatistosay,yourself,LadyStubbs,MissBrewis,MrsOliver-possiblyM.Poirot
whomIbelieveshehadmetthismorning.Whoelse,SirGeorge?"

SirGeorgeconsideredforamomentortwo.

"TheLegges,ofcourse,"hesaid."AlecandSallyLegge.They'vebeeninitfromthestart.AndMichael
Weyman, he's an architect staying here in the house to design a tennis pavilion. And Warburton, the
Mastertons-oh,andMrsFolliatofcourse."

"Thatisall-nobodyelse?"

"That'sthelot."

"Soyousee.SirGeorge,itisnotaverywidefield."

SirGeorge'sfacewentscarlet.

"Ithinkyou'retalkingnonsense-absolutenonsense!Areyousuggesting-whatareyousuggesting?"

"I'monlysuggesting,"saidInspectorBland,"thatthere'sagreatdealwedon'tknowasyet.It'spossible,
for instance, that Marlene, for some reason, came out of the boathouse. She may even have been
strangled somewhere else, and her body brought back and arranged on the floor. But even if so,
whoever arranged her was again someone who was thoroughly cognisant with all the details of the
MurderHunt.Wealwayscomebacktothat."Headdedinaslightlychangedvoice,"Icanassureyou,
Sir George, that we're doing all we can to find Lady Stubbs. In the meantime I'd like to have a word
withMrandMrsAlecLeggeandMrMichaelWeyman."

"Amanda."

"I'llseewhatIcandoaboutit,Inspector,"saidMissBrewis."IexpectMrsLeggeisstilltellingfortunes
inthetent.Alotofpeoplehavecomeinwiththehalf-priceadmissionsincefiveo'clock,andalltheside
showsarebusy.IcanprobablygetholdofMrLeggeorMrWeymanforyou-whicheveryouwantto
seefirst."

"Itdoesn'tmatterinwhatorderIseethem,"saidInspectorBland.

MissBrewisnoddedandlefttheroom.SirGeorgefollowedher,hisvoicerisingplaintively.

"Lookhere,Amanda,you'vegotto..."

InspectorBlandrealisedthatSirGeorgedependedagreatdealupontheefficientMissBrewis.Indeed,
atthismoment.Blandfoundthemasterofthehouseratherlikeasmallboy.

Whilst waiting, Inspector Bland picked up the telephone, demanded to be put through to the police
stationatHelmmouthandmadecertainarrangementswiththemconcerningtheyachtEspérance.

"Yourealise,Isuppose,"hesaidtoHoskinswhowasobviouslyquiteincapableofrealizinganythingof
thesort,"thatthere'sjustoneperfectlypossibleplacewherethisdamnwomanmightbe-andthat'son
boardDeSousa'syacht?"

"Howd'youmakethatout,sir?"

"Well, the woman has not been seen to leave by any of the usual exits, she's togged up in a way that
makesitunlikelythatshe'sleggingitthroughthefieldsorwoods,butitisjustpossiblethatshemetDe
Sousabyappointmentdownattheboathouseandthathetookherbylaunchtotheyacht,returningto
thefêteafterwards."

"Andwhywouldhedothat,sir?"demandedHoskins,puzzled.

"I'venoidea,"saidtheinspector,"andit'sveryunlikelythathedid.Butit'sapossibility.Andifsheis
ontheEspérance,I'llseetoitthatshewon'tgetofftherewithoutbeingobserved."

"Butifherfairhatedthesightofhim..."Hoskinsdroppedintothevernacular.

"All we know is that she said she did. Women," said the inspector sententiously, "tell a lot of lies.
Alwaysrememberthat,Hoskins."

"Aah,"saidConstableHoskinsappreciatively.

II

Further conversation was brought to an end as the door opened and a tall vague-looking young man
entered.Hewaswearinganeatgreyflannelsuit,buthisshirtcollarwascrumpledandhistieaskewand
hishairstooduponendinanunrulyfashion.

"MrAlecLegge?"saidtheinspector,lookingup.

"No,"saidtheyoungman,"I'mMichaelWeyman.Youaskedforme,Iunderstand."

"Quite true, sir," said Inspector Bland. "Won't you take a chair?" He indicated a chair at the opposite
sideofthetable.

"Idon'tcareforsitting,"saidMichaelWeyman,"Iliketostrideabout.Whatareallyoupolicedoing
hereanyway?What'shappened?"

InspectorBlandlookedathiminsurprise.

"Didn'tSirGeorgeinformyou,sir?"heasked.

"Nobody's'informedme,'asyouputit,ofanything.Idon'tsitinSirGeorge'spocketallthetime.What
hashappened?"

"You'restayinginthehouse,Iunderstand?"

"OfcourseI'mstayinginthehouse.What'sthatgottodowithit?"

"SimplythatIimaginedthatallthepeoplestayinginthehousewouldbynowhavebeeninformedof
thisafternoon'stragedy."

"Tragedy?Whattragedy?"

"Thegirlwhowasplayingthepartofthemurdervictimhasbeenkilled."

"No!" Michael Weyman seemed exuberantly surprised. "Do you mean really killed? No fakery-
pokery?"

"Idon'tknowwhatyoumeanbyfakery-pokery.Thegirl'sdead."

"Howwasshekilled?"

"Strangledwithapieceofcord."

MichaelWeymangaveawhistle.

"Exactlyasinthescenario?Well,well,thatdoesgiveoneideas."Hestrodeovertothewindow,turned
rapidlyabout,andsaid,"Sowe'reallundersuspicion,arewe?Orwasitoneofthelocalboys?"

"Wedon'tseehowitcouldpossiblyhavebeenoneofthelocalboys,asyouputit,"saidtheinspector.

"NomoredoIreally,"saidMichaelWeyman."Well,Inspector,manyofmyfriendscallmecrazy,but
I'mnotthatkindofcrazy.Idon'troamaroundthecountrysidestranglingunder-developedspottyyoung
women."

"Youaredownhere,Iunderstand,MrWeyman,designingatennispavilionforSirGeorge?"

"Ablamelessoccupation,"saidMichael."Criminallyspeaking,thatis.Architecturally,I'mnotsosure.
Thefinishedproductwillprobablyrepresentacrimeagainstgoodtaste.Butthatdoesn'tinterestyou,
Inspector.Whatdoesinterestyou?"

"Well, I should like to know, Mr Weyman, exactly where you were between quarter past four this

afternoonandsayfiveo'clock."

"Howdoyoutapeitdowntothat-medicalevidence?"

"Notentirely,sir.Awitnesssawthegirlaliveataquarterpastfour."

"Whatwitness-ormayn'tIask?"

"MissBrewis.LadyStubbsaskedhertotakedownatrayofcreamycakeswithsomefruit-adetothe
girl."

"OurHattieaskedherthat?Idon'tbelieveitforamoment."

"Whydon'tyoubelieveit,MrWeyman?"

"It'snotlikeher.Notthesortofthingshe'dthinkoforbotherabout.DearLadyStubbs'smindrevolves
entirelyroundherself."

"I'mstillwaiting,MrWeyman,foryouranswertomyquestion?"

"WhereIwasbetweenfour-fifteenandfiveo'clock?Well,really.Inspector,Ican'tsayoff-hand.Iwas
about-ifyouknowwhatImean."

"Aboutwhere?"

"Oh,hereandthere.Imingledabitonthelawn,watchedthelocalsamusingthemselves,hadawordor
twowiththeflutteryfilmstar.Then,whenIgotsickofitall,Iwentalongtothetenniscourtandmused
overthedesignforthePavilion.Ialsowonderedhowsoonsomeonewouldidentifythephotographthat
wasthefirstcluefortheMurderHuntwithasectionoftennisnet."

"Didsomeoneidentifyit?"

"Yes,Ibelievesomeonedidcomealong,butIwasn'treallynoticingbythen.Igotanewideaaboutthe
Pavilion-awayofmakingthebestoftwoworlds.MyownandSirGeorge's."

"Andafterthat?"

"Afterthat?Well,Istrolledaroundandcamebacktothehouse.Istrolleddowntothequayandhada
crackwitholdMerdell,thencameback.Ican'tfixanyofthetimeswithanyaccuracy.Iwas,asIsaid,
inthefirstplace,about!That'sallthereistoit."

"Well,MrWeyman,"saidtheinspectorbriskly,"Iexpectwecangetsomeconfirmationofallthis."

"MerdellcantellyouthatItalkedtohimonthequay.Butofcoursethat'llberatherlaterthanthetime
you're interested in. Must have been after five when I got down there. Very unsatisfactory, isn't it,
Inspector?"

"Weshallbeabletonarrowitdown,Iexpect,MrWeyman."

The inspector's tone was pleasant, but there was a steely ring in it that did not escape the young
architect'snotice.Hesatdownonthearmofachair.

"Seriously,"hesaid;"whocanhavewantedtomurderthatgirl?"

"You'venoideasyourself,MrWeyman?"

"Well,off-hand,I'dsayitwasourprolificauthoress,thePurplePeril.Haveyouseenherimperialpurple
get-up?IsuggestthatshewentabitoffheronionandthoughthowmuchbettertheMurderHuntwould
beiftherewasarealbody.How'sthat?"

"Isthataserioussuggestion,MrWeyman?"

"It'stheonlyprobabilityIcanthinkof."

"There's one other thing I would like to ask you, Mr Weyman. Did you see Lady Stubbs during the
courseoftheafternoon?"

"OfcourseIsawher.Whocouldmissher?DresseduplikeamannequinofJacquesFathofChristian
Dior?"

"Whendidyouseeherlast?"

"Last?Idon'tknow.Strikinganattitudeonthelawnabouthalf-pastthree-oraquartertofourperhaps."

"Andyoudidn'tseeherafterthat?"

"No.Why?"

"Iwondered-becauseafterfouro'clocknobodyseemstohaveseenher.LadyStubbshas-vanished,
MrWeyman."

"Vanished?OurHattie?"

"Thatsurprisesyou?"

"Yes,itdoesrather...What'ssheupto,Iwonder?"

"D'youknowLadyStubbswell,MrWeyman?"

"NevermethertillIcamedownherefourorfivedaysago."

"Haveyouformedanyopinionsabouther?"

"Ishouldsaysheknowswhichsideherbreadisbutteredbetterthanmost,"saidMichaelWeymandryly.
"Averyornamentalyoungwomanandknowshowtomakethemostofit."

"Butmentallynotveryactive?Isthatright?"

"Depends what you mean by mentally," said Michael Weyman. "I wouldn't describe her as an
intellectual.Butifyou'rethinkingthatshe'snotallthere,you'rewrong."Atoneofbitternesscameinto
hisvoice."I'dsayshewasverymuchallthere.Nobodymoreso."

Theinspector'seyebrowsrose.

"That'snotthegenerallyacceptedopinion."

"For some reason she likes playing the dim nitwit. I don't know why. But as I've said before, in my
opinion,she'sverymuchallthere."

Theinspectorstudiedhimforamoment,thenhesaid:

"Andyoureallycan'tgetanynearertoexacttimesandplacesbetweenthehoursIhavementioned?"

"Sorry." Weyman spoke jerkily. "I'm afraid I can't. Rotten memory, never any good about time." He
added,"Finishedwithme?"

Astheinspectornodded,helefttheroomquickly.

"And I'd like to know," said the inspector, half to himself and half to Hoskins, "what there's been
between him and her Ladyship. Either he's made a pass at her and she's turned him down, or there's
beensomekindofadust-up."Hewenton,"Whatwouldyousaywasthegeneralopinionroundthese
partsaboutSirGeorgeandhislady?"

"She'sdaft,"saidConstableHoskins.

"Iknowyouthinkthat,Hoskins.Isthattheacceptedview?"

"I'dsayso."

"AndSirGeorge-isheliked?"

"He'slikedwellenough.He'sagoodsportsmanandheknowsabitaboutfarming.Theoldlady'sdonea
lottohelp."

"Whatoldlady?"

"MrsFolliatwholivesattheLodgehere."

"Oh,ofcourse.TheFolliatsusedtoownthisplace,didn'tthey?"

"Yes,andit'sowingtotheoldladythatSirGeorgeandLadyStubbshavebeentakenupaswellasthey
have.Got'eminwiththenobseverywhere,shehas."

"Paidfordoingso,doyouthink?"

"Oh,no,notMrsFolliat."Hoskinssoundedshocked."IunderstandsheknewLadyStubbsbeforeshe
wasmarriedanditwasshewhourgedonSirGeorgetobuythisplace."

"I'llhavetotalktoMrsFolliat,"saidtheinspector.

"Ah,she'sashrewdoldlady,sheis.Ifanythingisgoingon,she'dknowaboutit."

"Imusttalktoher,"saidtheinspector."Iwonderwheresheisnow."

Chapter11

Mrs Folliat was at that moment being talked to by Hercule Poirot in the big drawing-room. He had
foundherthereleaningbackinachairinacorneroftheroom.Shehadstartednervouslywhenhecame
in.Thensinkingback,shehadmurmured:

"Oh,it'syou,M.Poirot."

"Iapologise,Madame.Idisturbedyou."

"No,no.Youdon'tdisturbme.I'mjustresting,that'sall.I'mnotasyoungasIwas.Theshock-itwas
toomuchforme."

"Icomprehend,"saidPoirot."Indeed,Icomprehend."

MrsFolliat,ahandkerchiefclutchedinhersmallhand,wasstaringupattheceiling.Shesaidinavoice
half-stifledwithemotion:

"Icanhardlybeartothinkofit.Thatpoorgirl.Thatpoor,poorgirl-"

"Iknow,"saidPoirot."Iknow."

"Soyoung,"saidMrsFolliat;"justatthebeginningoflife."Shesaidagain,"Icanhardlybeartothink
ofit."

Poirotlookedathercuriously.Sheseemed,hethought,tohaveagedbyabouttenyearssincethetime
earlyintheafternoon,whenhehadseenher,thegracioushostess,welcomingherguests.Nowherface
seemeddrawnandhaggardwiththelinesinitclearlymarked.

"Yousaidtomeonlyyesterday,Madame,itisaverywickedworld."

"DidIsaythat?"MrsFolliatseemedstartled."It'strue...Oh,yes,I'monlyjustbeginningtoknowhow
trueitis."Sheaddedinalowvoice,"ButIneverthoughtanythinglikethiswouldhappen."

Againhelookedathercuriously.

"Whatdidyouthinkwouldhappen,then?Something?"

"No,no.Ididn'tmeanthat."

Poirotpersisted.

"Butyoudidexpectsomethingtohappen-somethingoutoftheusual."

"Youmisunderstandme,M.Poirot.Ionlymeanthatit'sthelastthingyouwouldexpecttohappeninthe
middleofafêtelikethis."

"LadyStubbsthismorningalsospokeofwickedness."

"Hattiedid?Oh,don'tspeakofhertome-don'tspeakofher.Idon'twanttothinkabouther."Shewas
silentforamomentortwo,andthensaid,"Whatdidshesay-aboutwickedness?"

"She was speaking of her cousin. Etienne De Sousa. She said that he was wicked, that he was a bad
man.Shesaid,too,thatshewasafraidofhim."

Hewatched,butshemerelyshookherheadincredulously.

"EtienneDeSousa-whoishe?"

"Of course, you were not at breakfast. I forgot, Mrs Folliat. Lady Stubbs received a letter from this
cousinofherswhomshehadnotseensinceshewasagirloffifteen.Hetoldherthatheproposedtocall
uponhertoday,thisafternoon."

"Anddidhecome?"

"Yes.Hearrivedhereabouthalf-pastfour."

"Surely-d'youmeanthatratherhandsome,darkyoungmanwhocameuptheferrypath?Iwondered
whohewasatthetime."

"Yes,Madame,thatwasMrDeSousa."

MrsFolliatsaidenergetically:

"IfIwereyouIshouldpaynoattentiontothethingsHattiesays."SheflushedasPoirotlookedatherin
surpriseandwenton,"Sheislikeachild-Imean,sheusestermslikeachild-wicked,good.Nohalf
shades.Ishouldn'tpayanyattentiontowhatshetellsyouaboutthisEtienneDeSousa."

AgainPoirotwondered.Hesaidslowly:

"YouknowLadyStubbsverywell,doyounot,MrsFolliat?"

"Probablyaswellasanyoneknowsher.Possiblyevenbetterthanherhusbandknowsher.AndifIdo?"

"Whatisshereallylike,Madame?"

"Whataveryoddquestion,M.Poirot."

"Youknow,doyounot,Madame,thatLadyStubbscannotbefoundanywhere?"

Againheranswersurprisedhim.Sheexpressednoconcernorastonishment.Shesaid:

"Soshehasrunaway,hasshe?Isee."

"Itseemstoyouquitenatural,that?"

"Natural?Oh,Idon'tknow.Hattieisratherunaccountable."

"Doyouthinkshehasrunawaybecauseshehasaguiltyconscience?"

"Whatdoyoumean,M.Poirot?"

"Her cousin was talking about her this afternoon. He mentioned casually that she had always been
mentallysubnormal.Ithinkyoumustknow,Madame,thatpeoplewhoaresubnormalmentallyarenot
alwaysaccountablefortheiractions."

"Whatareyoutryingtosay,M.Poirot?"

"Suchpeopleare,asyousay,verysimple-likechildren.Inasuddenfitofragetheymightevenkill."

MrsFolliatturnedonhiminsuddenanger.

"Hattiewasneverlikethat!Iwon'tallowyoutosaysuchthings.Shewasagentlewarm-heartedgirl,
evenifshewas-alittlesimplementally.Hattiewouldneverhavekilledanyone."

Shefacedhim,breathinghard,stillindignant.

Poirotwondered.Hewonderedverymuch.

II

Breakingintothisscene,P.C.Hoskinsmadehisappearance.

Hesaidinanapologeticmanner:

"I'vebeenlookingforyou,ma'am."

"Good evening, Hoskins." Mrs Folliat was once more her poised self again, the mistress of Nasse
House."Yes,whatisit?"

"Theinspector'scompliments,andhe'dbegladtohaveawordwithyou-ifyoufeelsuptoit,thatis,"
Hoskinshastenedtoadd;notingasHerculePoirothaddone,theeffectsofshock.

"OfcourseIfeeluptoit."MrsFolliatrosetoherfeet.ShefollowedHoskinsoutoftheroom.Poirot,
havingrisenpolitely,satdownagainandstaredupattheceilingwithapuzzledfrown.

TheinspectorrosewhenMrsFolliatenteredandtheconstableheldthechairforhertositdown.

"I'm sorry to worry you, Mrs Folliat," said Bland. "But I imagine that you know all the people in the
neighbourhoodandIthinkyoumaybeabletohelpus."

Mrs Folliat smiled faintly. "I expect," she said," that I know everyone round here as well as anyone
coulddo.Whatdoyouwanttoknow,Inspector?"

"YouknewtheTuckers?Thefamilyandthegirl?"

"Oh,yes,ofcourse,they'vealwaysbeentenantsontheestate.MrsTuckerwastheyoungestofalarge
family.Hereldestbrotherwasourheadgardener.ShemarriedAlfredTucker,whoisafarmlabourer-a
stupidmanbutverynice.MrsTuckerisabitofashrew.Agoodhousewife,youknow,andveryclean
inthehouse,butTuckerisneverallowedtocomeanywherefartherthanthescullerywithhismuddy
bootson.Allthatsortofthing.Shenagsthechildrenrather.Mostofthemhavemarriedandgoneinto
jobsnow.Therewasjustthispoorchild,Marlene,leftandthreeyoungerchildren.Twoboysandagirl
stillatschool."

"Now, knowing the family as you do, Mrs Folliat, can you think of any reason why Marlene should
havebeenkilledtoday?"

"No, indeed I can't. It's quite, quite unbelievable, if you know what I mean, Inspector. There was no

boyfriendoranythingofthatkind,orIshouldn'tthinkso.NotthatI'veeverheardof,anyway."

"Nowwhat about thepeople who've beentaking part in thisMurder Hunt? Canyou tell me anything
aboutthem?"

"Well,MrsOliverI'dnevermetbefore.Sheisquiteunlikemyideaofwhatacrimenovelistwouldbe.
She'sveryupset,poordear,bywhathashappened-naturally."

"Andwhatabouttheotherhelpers-CaptainWarburton,forinstance?"

"I don't see any reason why he should murder Marlene Tucker, if that's what you're asking me," said
MrsFolliatcomposedly."Idon'tlikehimverymuch.He'swhatIcallafoxysortofman,butIsuppose
one has to be up to all the political tricks and all that kind of thing, if one is a political agent. He's
certainlyenergeticandhasworkedveryhardoverthisfête.Idon'tthinkhecouldhavekilledthegirl,
anyway,becausehewasonthelawnthewholetimethisafternoon."

Theinspectornodded.

"AndtheLegges.WhatdoyouknowabouttheLegges?"

"Well,theyseemaveryniceyoungcouple.He'sinclinedtobewhatIshouldcall-moody.Idon'tknow
verymuchabouthim.ShewasaCarstairsbeforehermarriageandIknowsomerelationsofhersvery
well.TheytooktheMillcottagefortwomonths,andIhopethey'veenjoyedtheirholidayhere.We've
allgotveryfriendlytogether."

"She'sanattractivelady,Iunderstand."

"Oh,yes,veryattractive."

"WouldyousaythatatanytimeSirGeorgehadfeltthatattraction?"

MrsFolliatlookedratherastonished.

"Oh,no,I'msuretherewasnothingofthatkind.SirGeorgeisreallyabsorbedbyhisbusiness,andvery
fondofhiswife.He'snotatallaphilanderingsortofman."

"Andtherewasnothing,youwouldsay,betweenLadyStubbsandMrLegge?"

AgainMrsFolliatshookherhead.

"Oh,no,positively."

Theinspectorpersisted.

"There'sbeennotroubleofanykindbetweenSirGeorgeandhiswife,thatyouknowof?"

"I'msuretherehasn't,"saidMrsFolliat,emphatically."AndIwouldknowiftherehadbeen."

"Itwouldn'tbe,then,asaresultofanydisagreementbetweenhusbandandwife,thatLadyStubbshas
goneaway?"

"Oh,no."Sheaddedlightly,"Thesillygirl.Iunderstand,didn'twanttomeetthiscousinofhers.Some
childishphobia.Soshe'srunawayjustlikeachildmightdo."

"That'syouropinion.Nothingmorethanthat?"

"Oh, no. I expect she'll turn up again quite soon. Feeling rather ashamed of herself." She added
carelessly,"What'sbecomeofthiscousin,bytheway?Ishestillhereinthehouse?"

"Iunderstandhe'sgonebacktohisyacht."

"Andthat'satHelmmouth,isit?"

"Yes,atHelmmouth."

"Isee,"saidMrsFolliat."Well,it'sratherunfortunate-Hattiebehavingsochildishly.However,ifhe's
stayingonhereforadayorso,wecanmakeherseeshemustbehaveproperly."

Itwas,theinspectorthought,aquestion,butalthoughhenoticedithedidnotanswerit.

"You are probably thinking," he said, "that all this is rather beside the point. But you do understand,
don'tyou,MrsFolliat,thatwehavetorangeoverratherawidefield.MissBrewis,forinstance.What
doyouknowaboutMissBrewis?"

"Well, she's an excellent secretary. More than a secretary. She practically acts as housekeeper down
here.Infact,Idon'tknowwhatthey'ddowithouther."

"WassheSirGeorge'ssecretarybeforehemarriedhiswife?"

"Ithinkso.I'mnotquitesure.I'veonlyknownhersinceshecamedownherewiththem."

"Shedoesn'tlikeLadyStubbsverymuch,doesshe?"

"No,"saidMrsFolliat,"I'mafraidshedoesn't.Idon'tthinkthesegoodsecretarieseverdocareforwives
much,ifyouknowwhatImean.Perhapsit'snatural."

"Was it you or Lady Stubbs who asked Miss Brewis to take cakes and a fruit drink to the girl in the
boathouse?"

MrsFolliatlookedslightlysurprised.

"I remember Miss Brewis collecting some cakes and things and saying she was taking them along to
Marlene. I didn't know anyone had particularly asked her to do it, or arranged about it. It certainly
wasn'tme."

"Isee.Yousayyouwereintheteatentfromfouro'clockon.IbelieveMrsLeggewasalsohavingteain
thetentatthattime."

"MrsLegge?No,Idon'tthinkso.AtleastIdon'trememberseeingherthere.Infact,I'mquitesureshe
wasn'tthere.We'dhadagreatinfluxbythebusfromTorquay,andIrememberlookingroundthetent
andthinkingthattheymustallbesummervisitors;therewashardlyafacetherethatIknew.IthinkMrs
Leggemusthavecomeintotealater."

"Oh, well," said the inspector, "it doesn't matter." He added smoothly, "Well, I really think that's all.
Thankyou,MrsFolliat,you'vebeenverykind.WecanonlyhopethatLadyStubbswillreturnshortly."

"Ihopeso,too,"saidMrsFolliat."Verythoughtlessofthedearchildgivingusallsomuchanxiety."She
spoke briskly but the animation in her voice was not very natural. "I'm sure," said Mrs Folliat, "that
she'squiteallright.Quiteallright."

Atthatmomentthedooropenedandanattractiveyoungwomanwithredhairandafreckledfacecame
in,andsaid:

"Ihearyou'vebeenaskingforme?"

"ThisisMrsLegge,Inspector,"saidMrsFolliat."Sally,dear,Idon'tknowwhetheryou'veheardabout
theterriblethingthathashappened?"

"Oh,yes!Ghastly,isn'tit?"saidMrsLegge.Sheutteredanexhaustedsigh,andsankdowninthechair
asMrsFolliatlefttheroom.

"I'mterriblysorryaboutallthis,"shesaid."Itseemsreallyunbelievable,ifyouknowwhatImean.I'm
afraidIcan'thelpyouinanyway.Yousee,I'vebeentellingfortunesalltheafternoon,soIhaven'tseen
anythingofwhatwasgoingon."

"Iknow,MrsLegge.Butwejusthavetoaskeverybodythesameroutinequestions.Forinstance,just
wherewereyoubetweenfour-fifteenandfiveo'clock?"

"Well,Iwentandhadteaatfouro'clock."

"Intheteatent?"

"Yes."

"Itwasverycrowded,Ibelieve?"

"Oh,frightfullycrowded."

"Didyouseeanyoneyouknewthere?"

"Oh, a few old people, yes. Nobody to speak to. Goodness, how I wanted that tea! That was four
o'clock,asIsay.Igotbacktothefortunetellingtentathalf-pastfourandwentonwithmyjob.And
goodness knows what I was promising the women in the end. Millionaire husbands, film stardom in
Hollywood-heavenknowswhat.Merejourneysacrossthesea,andsuspiciousdarkwomenseemedtoo
tame."

"Whathappenedduringthehalf-hourwhenyouwereabsent-Imean,supposingpeoplewantedtohave
theirfortunestold?"

"Oh,Ihungacardupoutsidethetent.'Backatfour-thirty.'"

Theinspectormadeanoteinhispad.

"WhendidyoulastseeLadyStubbs?"

"Hattie?Idon'treallyknow.ShewasquitenearathandwhenIcameoutofthefortunetellingtenttogo
totea,butIdidn'tspeaktoher.Idon'trememberseeingherafterwards.Somebodytoldmejustnowthat
she'smissing.Isthattrue?"

"Yes,itis."

"Oh,well,"saidSallyLeggecheerfully,"she'sabitqueerinthetopstory,youknow.Idaresayhavinga
murderherehasfrightenedher."

"Well,thankyou,MrsLegge."

Mrs Legge accepted the dismissal with promptitude. She went out, passing Hercule Poirot in the
doorway.

III

Lookingattheceiling,theinspectorspoke.

"MrsLeggesaysshewasintheteatentbetweenfourandfour-thirty.MrsFolliatsaysshewashelping
intheteatentfromfouro'clockonbutthatMrsLeggewasnotamongthosepresent."Hepausedand
thenwenton,"MissBrewissaysthatLadyStubbsaskedhertotakeatrayofcakesandfruitjuiceto
Marlene Tucker. Michael Weyman says that it's quite impossible Lady Stubbs should have done any
suchthing-itwouldbemostuncharacteristicofher."

"Ah,"saidPoirot,"theconflictingstatements!Yes,onealwayshasthem."

"Andwhatanuisancetheyaretoclearup,too,"saidtheinspector."Sometimestheymatterbutinnine
timesoutoftentheydon't.Well,we'vegottodoalotofspadework,that'sclear."

"Andwhatdoyouthinknow,moncher?Whatarethelatestideas?"

"Ithink,"saidtheinspectorgravely,"thatMarleneTuckersawsomethingshewasnotmeanttosee.I
thinkthatitwasbecauseofwhatMarleneTuckersawthatshehadtobekilled."

"Iwillnotcontradictyou,"saidPoirot."Thepointiswhatdidshesee?"

"She might have seen a murder," said the inspector. "Or she might have seen the person who did the
murder."

"Murder?"saidPoirot."Themurderofwhom?"

"Whatdoyouthink,Poirot?IsLadyStubbsaliveordead?"

Poirottookamomentortwobeforehereplied.

Thenhesaid:

"I think, mon ami, that Lady Stubbs is dead. And I will tell you why I think that. It is because Mrs
Folliatthinkssheisdead.Yes,whatevershemaysaynow,orpretendtothink,MrsFolliatbelievesthat
HattieStubbsisdead.MrsFolliat,"headded,"knowsagreatdealthatwedonot."

Chapter12

Hercule Poirot came down to the breakfast table on the following morning to a depleted table. Mrs
Oliver, still suffering from the shock of yesterday's occurrence, was having her breakfast in bed.
Michael Weyman had had a cup of coffee and gone out early. Only Sir George and the faithful Miss
Brewiswereatthebreakfasttable.SirGeorgewasgivingindubitableproofofhismentalconditionby
beingunabletoeatanybreakfast.Hisplatelayalmostuntastedbeforehim.Hepushedasidethesmall
pileofletterswhich,afteropeningthem,MissBrewishadplacedbeforehim.Hedrankcoffeewithan
airofnotknowingwhathewasdoing.Hesaid:

"Morning,M.Poirot,"perfunctorily,andthenrelapsedintohisstateofpreoccupation.Attimesafew
ejaculatorymurmurscamefromhim.

"Soincredible,thewholedamn'thing.Wherecanshebe?"

"TheinquestwillbeheldattheInstituteonThursday,"saidMissBrewis."Theyranguptotellus."

Heremployerlookedatherasifhedidnotunderstand.

"Inquest?"hesaid."Oh,yes,ofcourse."Hesoundeddazedanduninterested.Afteranothersiportwoof
coffeehesaid,"Womenareincalculable.Whatdoesshethinkshe'sdoing?"

Miss Brewis pursed her lips. Poirot observed acutely enough that she was in a state of taut nervous
tension.

"Hodgson's coming to see you this morning," she remarked, "about the electrification of the milking
shedsonthefarm.Andattwelveo'clockthere'sthe-"

SirGeorgeinterrupted.

"Ican'tseeanyone.Put'emalloff!Howthedevild'youthinkamancanattendtobusinesswhenhe's
worriedhalfoutofhismindabouthiswife?"

"If you say so, Sir George." Miss Brewis gave the domestic equivalent of a barrister saying "as your
lordshippleases."Herdissatisfactionwasobvious.

"Neverknow,"saidSirGeorge,"whatwomengetintotheirheads,orwhatfoolthingsthey'relikelyto
do!Youagree,eh?"HeshotthelastquestionatPoirot.

"Les femmes! They are incalculable," said Poirot, raising his eyebrows and his hands with Gallic
fervour.MissBrewisblewhernoseinanannoyedfashion.

"Sheseemedallright,"saidSirGeorge."Damnpleasedabouthernewring,dressedherselfuptoenjoy
thefête.Alljustthesameasusual.Notasthoughwe'dhadwordsoraquarrelofanykind.Goingoff
withoutaword."

"Aboutthoseletters,SirGeorge,"beganMissBrewis.

"Damnthebloodyletterstohell,"saidsirGeorge,andpushedasidehiscoffee-cup.

Hepickedupthelettersbyhisplateandmoreorlessthrewthemather.

"Answerthemanywayyoulike!Ican'tbebothered."Hewentonmoreorlesstohimselfinaninjured
tone,"Doesn'tseemtobeanythingIcando...Don'tevenknowifthatpolicechap'sanygood.Verysoft
spokenandallthat."

"Thepoliceare,Ibelieve"saidMissBrewis,"veryefficient.Theyhaveamplefacilitiesfortracingthe
whereaboutsofmissingpersons."

"They take days sometimes," said Sir George, "to find some miserable kid who's run off and hidden
himselfinahaystack."

"Idon'tthinkLadyStubbsislikelytobeinahaystack,SirGeorge."

"If only I could do something," repeated the unhappy husband. "I think, you know, I'll put an
advertisement in the papers. Take it down, Amanda, will you?" He paused a moment in thought.
"Hattie.Pleasecomehome.Desperateaboutyou.George.Allthepapers,Amanda."

MissBrewissaidacidly:

"Lady Stubbs doesn't often read the papers, Sir George. She's no interest at all in current affairs or
what'sgoingoninthworld."Sheadded,rathercattily,butSirGeorgewasnotinthemoodtoappreciate
cattiness,"OfcourseyoucouldputanadvertisementinVogue.Thatmightcatchhereye."

SirGeorgesaidsimply:

"Anywhereyouthinkbutgetonwithit."

Hegotupandwalkedtowardsthedoor.Withhishandonthehandlehepausedandcamebackafew
steps.HespokedirectlytoPoirot.

"Lookhere,Poirot,"hesaid,"youdon'tthinkshe'sdead,doyou?"

Poirotfixedhiseyesonhiscoffee-cupashereplied:

"Ishouldsayitisfartoosoon.SirGeorge,toassumeanythingofthatkind.Thereisnoreasonasyetto
entertainsuchanidea."

"Soyoudothinkso,"saidSirGeorge,heavily."Well,"headdeddefiantly."Idon't!Isayshe'squiteall
right." He nodded his head several times with increasing defiance, and went out banging the door
behindhim.

Poirot buttered a piece of toast thoughtfully. In cases where there was any suspicion of a wife being
murdered, he always automatically suspected the husband. (Similarly, with a husband's demise, he
suspectedthewife.)ButinthiscasehedidnotsuspectSirGeorgewithhavingdoneawaywithLady
Stubbs.FromhisbriefobservationofthemhewasquiteconvincedthatSirGeorgewasdevotedtohis
wife.Moreover,asfarashisexcellentmemoryservedhim(anditservedhimprettywell),SirGeorge
hadbeenpresentonthelawntheentireafternoonuntilhehimselfhadleftwithMrsOlivertodiscover
the body. He had been there on the lawn when they had returned with the news. No, it was not Sir
George who was responsible for Hattie's death. That is, if Hattie were dead. After all, Poirot told
himself,therewasnoreasontobelievesoasyet.WhathehadjustsaidtoSirGeorgewastrueenough.
Butinhisownmindtheconvictionwasunalterable.Thepattern,hethought,wasthepatternofmurder-
adoublemurder.

MissBrewisinterruptedhisthoughtsbyspeakingwithalmosttearfulvenom.

"Menaresuchfools,"shesaid,"suchabsolutefools!They'requiteshrewdinmostways,andthenthey
gomarryingentirelythewrongsortofwoman."

Poirot was always willing to let people talk. The more people who talked to him, and the more they
said,thebetter.Therewasnearlyalwaysagrainofwheatamongthechaff.

"Youthinkithasbeenanunfortunatemarriage?"hedemanded,

"Disastrous-quitedisastrous."

"Youmean-thattheywerenothappytogether?"

"She'dathoroughlybadinfluenceoverhimineveryway."

"NowIfindthatveryinteresting.Whatkindofabadinfluence?"

"Makinghimruntoandfroatherbeckandcall,gettingexpensivepresentsoutofhim-farmorejewels
thanonewomancouldwear.Andfurs.She'sgottwominkcoatsandaRussianermine.Whatcouldany
womanwantwithtwominkcoats,I'dliketoknow?"

Poirotshookhishead.

"ThatIwouldnotknow,"hesaid.

"Sly,"continuedMissBrewis."Deceitful!Alwaysplayingthesimpleton-especiallywhenpeoplewere
here.Isupposebecauseshethoughthelikedherthatway!"

"Anddidhelikeherthatway?"

"Oh, men!" said Miss Brewis, her voice trembling on the edge of hysteria. "They don't appreciate
efficiency or unselfishness, or loyalty or any of those qualities! Now with a clever, capable wife Sir
Georgewouldhavegotsomewhere."

"Gotwhere?"askedPoirot.

"Well,hecouldtakeaprominentpartinlocalaffairs.OrstandforParliament.He'samuchmoreable
manthanpoorMrMasterton.Idon'tknowifyou'veeverheardMrMastertononaplatform-amost
haltinganduninspiredspeaker.Heoweshispositionentirelytohiswife.It'sMrsMastertonwho'sthe
powerbehindthethrone.She'sgotallthedriveandtheinitiativeandthepoliticalacumen."

Poirot shuddered inwardly at the thought of being married to Mrs Masterton, but he agreed quite
truthfullywithMissBrewis'swords.

"Yes,"hesaid,"sheisallthatyousay.Afemmeformidable,"hemurmuredtohimself.

"Sir George doesn't seem ambitious," went on Miss Brewis; "he seems quite content to live here and
potter about and play the country squire, and just go to London occasionally to attend to all his city
directorshipsandallthat,buthecouldmakefarmoreofhimselfthanthatwithhisabilities.He'sreallya
veryremarkableman,M.Poirot.Thatwomanneverunderstoodhim.Shejustregardshimasakindof
machinefortippingoutfurcoatsandjewelsandexpensiveclothes.Ifheweremarriedtosomeonewho
reallyappreciatedhisabilities..."Shebrokeoff,hervoicewaveringuncertainly.

Poirotlookedatherwitharealcompassion.MissBrewiswasinlovewithheremployer.Shegavehim
a faithful, loyal and passionate devotion of which he was probably quite unaware and in which he
would certainly not be interested. To Sir George, Amanda Brewis was an efficient machine who took
the drudgery of daily life off his shoulders, who answered telephone calls, wrote letters, engaged
servants, ordered meals and generally made life smooth for him. Poirot doubted if he had ever once
thoughtofherasawoman.Andthat,hereflected,haditsdangers.Womencouldworkthemselvesup,
theycouldreachanalarmingpitchofhysteriaunnoticedbytheobliviousmalewhowastheobjectof
theirdevotion.

"Asly,scheming,clevercat,that'swhatsheis,"saidMissBrewistearfully.

"Yousayis,notwas,Iobserve,"saidPoirot.

"Ofcoursesheisn'tdead!"saidMissBrewis,scornfully."Goneoffwithaman,that'swhatshe'sdone!
That'shertype."

"It is possible. It is always possible," said Poirot. He took another piece of toast, inspected the
marmalade pot gloomily and looked down the table to see if there were any kind of jam. There was

none,soheresignedhimselftobutter.

"It'stheonlyexplanation,"saidMissBrewis."Ofcoursehewouldn'tthinkofit."

"Hasthere-beenany-troublewithmen?"askedPoirot,delicately.

"Oh,she'sbeenveryclever,"saidMissBrewis.

"Youmeanyouhavenotobservedanythingofthekind?"

"She'dbecarefulthatIshouldn't,"saidMissBrewis.

"Butyouthinkthattheremayhavebeen-whatshallIsay?-surreptitiousepisodes?"

"She'sdoneherbesttomakeafoolofMichaelWeyman,"saidMissBrewis."Takinghimdowntosee
thecamelliagardensatthistimeofyear!Pretendingshe'ssointerestedinthetennispavilion."

"Afterall,thatishisbusinessforbeinghereandIunderstandSirGeorgeishavingitbuiltprincipallyto
pleasehiswife."

"She's no good at tennis," said Miss Brewis. "She's no good at any games. Just wants an attractive
settingtositin,whileotherpeoplerunaboutandgethot.Oh,yes,she'sdoneherbesttomakeafoolof
MichaelWeyman.She'dprobablyhavedoneittoo,ithehadn'thadotherfishtofry."

"Ah,"saidPoirot,helpinghimselftoaverylittlemarmalade,placingitonthecornerofapieceoftoast
andtakingamouthfuldubiously."Sohehasotherfishtofry,M.Weyman?"

"ItwasMrsLeggewhorecommendedhimtoSirGeorge,"saidMissBrewis."Sheknewhimbeforeshe
wasmarried.Chelsea,Iunderstand,andallthat.Sheusedtopaint,youknow."

"Sheseemsaveryattractiveandintelligentyoungwoman,"saidPoirottentatively.

"Oh, yes, she's very intelligent," said Miss Brewis. "She's had a university education and I dare say
couldhavemadeacareerforherselfifshehadn'tmarried."

"Hasshebeenmarriedlong?"

"Aboutthreeyears,Ibelieve.Idon'tthinkthemarriagehasturnedoutverywell."

"Thereis-theincompatibility?"

"He's a queer young man, very moody. Wanders off a lot by himself and I've heard him very bad-
temperedwithhersometimes."

"Ah,well,"saidPoirot,"thequarrels,thereconciliations,theyareapartofearlymarriedlife.Without
themitispossiblethatlifewouldbedrab."

"She'sspentagooddealoftimewithMichaelWeymansincehe'sbeendownhere,"saidMissBrewis.
"IthinkhewasinlovewithherbeforeshemarriedAlecLegge.Idaresayit'sonlyaflirtationonher
side."

"ButMrLeggewasnotpleasedaboutit,perhaps?"

"Oneneverknowswithhim,he'ssovague.butIthinkhe'sbeenevenmoodierthanusual,lately."

"DidheadmireLadyStubbs,perhaps?"

"Idaresayshethoughthedid.Shethinkssheonlyhastoholdupafingerforanymantofallinlove
withher!"

"Inanycase,ifshehasgoneoffwithaman,asyousuggest,itisnotMrWeyman,forMrWeymanis
stillhere."

"It'ssomebodyshe'sbeenmeetingonthesly,I'venodoubt,"saidMissBrewis."Sheoftenslipsoutof
the house on the quiet and goes off into the woods by herself. She was out the night before last.
Yawningandsayingshewasgoinguptobed.Icaughtsightofhernothalfanhourlaterslippingoutby
thesidedoorwithashawloverherhead."

Poirot looked thoughtfully at the woman opposite him. He wondered if any reliance at all was to be

placed in Miss Brewis's statements where Lady Stubbs was concerned, or whether it was entirely
wishfulthinkingonherpart.MrsFolliat,hewassure,didnotshareMissBrewis'sideasandMrsFolliat
knewHattiemuchbetterthanMissBrewiscoulddo.IfLadyStubbshadrunawaywithaloveritwould
clearly suit Miss Brewis's book very well. She would be left to console the bereaved husband and to
arrange for him efficiently the details of divorce. But that did not make it true, or probable, or even
likely.IfHattieStubbshadleftwithalover,shehadchosenaverycurioustimetodoso,Poirotthought.
Forhisownparthedidnotbelieveshehad.

MissBrewissniffedthroughhernoseandgatheredtogethervariousscatteredcorrespondence.

"If Sir George really wants those advertisements put in, I suppose I'd better see about it," she said.
"Complete nonsense and waste of time. Oh, good morning, Mrs Masterton," she added, as the door
openedwithauthorityandMrsMastertonwalkedin.

"InquestissetforThursday,Ihear,"sheboomed."'Morning,M.Poirot."

MissBrewispaused,herhandfullofletters.

"AnythingIcandoforyou,MrsMasterton?"sheasked.

"No,thankyou,MissBrewis.Iexpectyou'veplentyonyourhandsthismorning,butIdowanttothank
you for all the excellent work you put in yesterday. You're such a good organiser and such a hard
worker.We'reallverygrateful."

"Thankyou,MrsMasterton."

"Nowdon'tletmekeepyou.I'lljustsitdownandhaveawordwithM.Poirot."

"Enchanted,Madame,"saidPoirot.Hehadrisentohisfeetandhebowed.

MrsMastertonpulledoutachairandsatdown.

MissBrewislefttheroom,quiterestoredtoherusualefficientself.

"Marvellouswoman,that,"saidMrsMasterton."Don'tknowwhattheStubbseswoulddowithouther.

Running a house takes some doing nowadays. Poor Hattie couldn't have coped with it. Extraordinary
business,this,M.Poirot.Icametoaskyouwhatyouthoughtaboutit."

"Whatdoyouyourselfthink,Madame?"

"Well,it'sanunpleasantthingtoface,butIshouldsaywe'vegotsomepathologicalcharacterinthispart
of the world. Not a native, I hope. Perhaps been let out of an asylum - they're always letting 'em out
half-cured nowadays. What I mean is, no one would ever want to strangle that Tucker girl. There
couldn'tbeanymotive,Imean,exceptsomeabnormalone.Andifthisman,whoeverheis,isabnormal
Ishouldsayhe'sprobablystrangledthatpoorgirl,HattieStubbs,aswell.Shehasn'tverymuchsense
you know, poor child. If she met an ordinary-looking man and he asked her to come and look at
somethinginthewoodsshe'dprobablygolikealamb,quiteunsuspectinganddocile."

"Youthinkherbodyissomewhereontheestate?"

"Yes,M,Poirot,Ido.They'llfinditoncetheysearcharound.Mindyou,withaboutsixty-fiveacresof
woodlandhere,it'lltakesomefinding,ifit'sbeendraggedintothebushesortumbleddownaslopeinto
the trees. What they need is bloodhounds," said Mrs Masterton, looking, as she spoke, exactly like a
bloodhoundherself."Bloodhounds!IshallringuptheChiefConstablemyselfandsayso."

"Itisverypossiblethatyouareright,Madame,"saidPoirot.Itwasclearlytheonlythingonecouldsay
toMrsMasterton.

"OfcourseI'mright,"saidMrsMasterton;"butImustsay,youknow,itmakesmeveryuneasybecause
thefellowissomewhereabout.I'mcallinginatthevillagewhenIleavehere,tellingthemotherstobe
verycarefulabouttheirdaughters-notlet'emgoaboutalone.It'snotanicethought,M.Poirot,tohave
akillerinourmidst."

"A little point, Madame. How could a strange man have obtained admission to the boathouse? That
wouldneedakey."

"Oh,that,"saidMrsMasterton,"that'seasyenough.Shecameout,ofcourse."

"Cameoutoftheboathouse?"

"Yes.Iexpectshegotbored,likegirlsdo.Probablywanderedoutandlookedabouther.Themostlikely
thing,Ithink,isthatsheactuallysawHattieStubbsmurdered.Heardastruggleorsomething,wentto

seeandthemanhavingdisposedofLadyStubbs,naturallyhadtokillhertoo.Easyenoughforhimto
takeherbacktotheboathouse,dumpherthereandcomeout,pullingthedoorbehindhim.ItwasaYale
lock.Itwouldpullto,andlock."

Poirot nodded gently. It was not his purpose to argue with Mrs Masterton or to point out to her the
interestingfactwhichshehadcompletelyoverlooked,thatifMarleneTuckerhadbeenkilledawayfrom
theboathouse,somebodymusthaveknownenoughaboutthemurdergametoputherbackintheexact
placeandpositionwhichthevictimwassupposedtoassume.Instead,hesaidgently:

"SirGeorgeStubbsisconfidentthathiswifeisstillalive."

"That'swhathesays,man,becausehewantstobelieveit.Hewasverydevotedtoher,youknow."She
added,ratherunexpectedly,"IlikeGeorgeStubbsinspiteofhisoriginsandhiscitybackgroundandall
that,hegoesdownverywellinthecounty.Theworstthatcanbesaidabouthimisthathe'sabitofa
snob.Andafterall,socialsnobbery'sharmlessenough."

Poirotsaidsomewhatcynically:

"Inthesedays,Madame,surelymoneyhasbecomeasacceptableasgoodbirth."

"Mydearman,Icouldn'tagreewithyoumore.There'snoneedforhimtobeasnob-onlygottobuy
theplaceandthrowhismoneyabout,andwe'dallcomeandcall!Butactually,theman'sliked.It'snot
onlyhismoney.OfcourseAmyFolliat'shadsomethingtodowiththat.Shehassponsoredthem,and
mindyou,she'sgotalotofinfluenceinthispartoftheworld.WhytherehavebeenFolliatsheresince
Tudortimes."

"TherehavealwaysbeenFolliatsatNasseHouse,"Poirotmurmuredtohimself.

"Yes." Mrs Masterson sighed. "It's sad, the toll taken by the war. Young men killed in battle - death
dutiesandallthat.Thenwhoevercomesintoaplacecan'taffordtokeepitupandhastosell-"

"ButMrsFolliat,althoughshehaslostherhome,stilllivesontheestate."

"Yes.She'smadetheLodgequitecharmingtoo.Haveyoubeeninsideit?"

"No,wepartedatthedoor."

"Itwouldn'tbeevery'scupoftea,"saidMrsMasterton."Toliveatthelodgeofyouroldhomeandsee
strangersinpossession.ButtodoAmyFolliatjusticeIdon'tthinkshefeelsbitteraboutthat.Infact,she
engineeredthewholething.There'snodoubtsheimbuedHattiewiththeideaoflivingdownhere,and
gothertopersuadeGeorgeStubbsintoit.Thething,Ithink,thatAmyFolliatcouldn'thavebornewas
toseetheplaceturnedintoahostelorinstitution,orcarvedupforbuilding."Sherosetoherfeet."Well,
Imustbegettingalong.I'mabusywoman."

"Ofcourse.YouhavetotalktotheChiefConstableaboutbloodhounds."

MrsMastertongaveasuddendeepbayoflaughter.

"Usedtobreed'ematonetime,"shesaid."PeopletellmeI'mabitlikeabloodhoundmyself."

Poirotwasslightlytakenabackandshewasquickenoughtoseeit.

"Ibetyou'vebeenthinkingso,M.Poirot,"shesaid.

Chapter13

AfterMrsMastertonhadleft,Poirotwentoutandstrolledthroughthewoods.Hisnerveswerenotquite
what they should be. He felt an irresistible desire to look behind every bush and to consider every
thicketofrhododendronasapossiblehiding-placeforabody.HecameatlasttotheFollyandgoing
insideit,hesatdownonthestonebenchthere,toresthisfeetwhichwere,aswashiscustom,enclosed
intight,pointedpatent-leathershoes.

Throughthetreeshecouldcatchfaintglimmersoftheriverandofthewoodedbanksontheopposite
side.Hefoundhimselfagreeingwiththeyoungarchitectthatthiswasnoplacetoputanarchitectural
fantasyofthiskind.Gapscouldbecutinthetrees,ofcourse,buteventhentherewouldbenoproper
view. Whereas, as Michael Weyman had said, on the grassy bank near the house a Folly could have
beenerectedwithadelightfulvistarightdowntherivertoHelmmouth.Poirot'sthoughtsflewoffata
tangent.Helmmouth,theyachtEspérance,andEtienneDeSousa.Thewholethingmusttieupinsome
kindofpattern,butwhatthepatternwashecouldnotvisualise.Temptingstrandsofitshowedhereand
therebutthatwasall.

Somethingthatglitteredcaughthiseyeandhebenttopickitup.Ithadcometorestinasmallcrackof
theconcretebasetothetemple.Hehelditinthepalmofhishandandlookedatitwithafaintstirringof
recognition.Itwasalittlegoldaeroplanecharm.Ashefrownedatit,apicturecameintohismind.A
bracelet.Agoldbracelethungoverwithdanglingcharms.Hewassittingoncemoreinthetentandthe
voice of Madame Zuleika, alias Sally Legge, was talking of dark women and journeys across the sea
andgoodfortuneinaletter.Yes,shehadhadonabraceletfromwhichdependedamultiplicityofsmall
goldobjects.OneofthesemodernfashionswhichrepeatedthefashionsofPoirot'searlydays.Probably
thatwaswhyithadmadeanimpressiononhim.Sometimeorother,presumably,MrsLeggehadsat
hereintheFolly,andoneofthecharmshadfallenfromherbracelet.Perhapsshehadnotevennoticed
it.Itmighthavebeensomedaysago-weeksperhaps.Or,itmighthavebeenyesterdayafternoon.

Poirotconsideredthatlatterpoint.Thenheheardfootstepsoutsideandlookedupsharply.Afigurecame
round to the front of the Folly and stopped, startled, at the sight of Poirot. Poirot looked with a
consideringeyeontheslim,fairyoungmanwearingashirtonwhichavarietyoftortoiseandturtlewas
depicted. The shirt was unmistakable. He had observed it closely yesterday when its wearer was
throwingcoconuts.

Henoticedthattheyoungmanwasalmostunusuallyperturbed.Hesaidquicklyinaforeignaccent:

"Ibegyourpardon-Ididnotknow-"

Poirotsmiledgentlyathimbutwithareprovingair.

"Iamafraid,"hesaid,"thatyouaretrespassing."

"Yes,Iamsorry."

"Youcomefromthehostel?"

"Yes.Yes,Ido.Ithoughtperhapsonecouldgetthroughthewoodsthiswayandsotothequay."

"Iamafraid,"saidPoirotgently,"thatyouwillhavetogobackthewayyoucame.Thereisnothrough
road."

Theyoungmansaidagain,showingallhisteethinawould-beagreeablesmile:

"Iamsorry.Iamverysorry."

Hebowedandturnedaway.

Poirot came out of the Folly and back on to the path, watching the boy retreat. When he got to the
ending of the path, he looked over his shoulder. Then, seeing Poirot watching him, he quickened his
paceanddisappearedroundthebend.

"Ehbien,"saidPoirottohimself,"isthisamurdererIhaveseen,orisitnot?"

The young man had certainly been at the fête yesterday and had scowled when he had collided with
Poirot,andjustascertainlythereforehemustknowquitewellthattherewasnothroughpathbywayof
thewoodstotheferry.If,indeed,hehadbeenlookingforapathtotheferryhewouldnothavetaken
thispathbytheFolly,butwouldhavekeptonthelowerlevelneartheriver.Moreover,hehadarrivedat
theFollywiththeairofonewhohasreachedhisrendezvous,andwhoisbadlystartledatfindingthe
wrongpersonatthemeetingplace.

"Soitislikethis,"saidPoirottohimself."Hecameheretomeetsomeone.Whodidhecometomeet?"
Headdedasanafterthought,"Andwhy?"

Hestrolleddowntothebendofthepathandlookedatitwhereitwoundawayintothetrees.Therewas
no sign of the young man in the turtle shirt now. Presumably he had deemed it prudent to retreat as
rapidlyaspossible.Poirotretracedhissteps,shakinghishead.

Lostinthought,hecamequietlyroundthesideoftheFolly,andstoppedonthethreshold,startledinhis
turn.SallyLeggewasthereonherknees,herheadbentdowntothecracksintheflooring.Shejumped
up,startled.

"Oh,M.Poirot,yougavemesuchashock.Ididn'thearyoucoming."

"Youwerelookingforsomething,Madame?"

"I-no,notexactly."

"You had lost something, perhaps," said Poirot. "Dropped something. Or perhaps..." He adopted a
roguish,gallantair,"Orperhaps,Madame,itisarendezvous.Iam,mostunfortunately,nottheperson

youcametomeet?"

Shehadrecoveredheraplombbynow.

"Doesoneeverhaverendezvousinthemiddleofthemorning?"shedemanded,questioningly.

"Sometimes,"saidPoirot,"onehastohavearendezvousattheonlytimeonecan.Husbands,"headded
sententiously,"aresometimesjealous."

"Idoubtifmineis,"saidSallyLegge.

Shesaidthewordslightlyenough,butbehindthemPoirotheardanundertoneofbitterness.

"He'ssocompletelyengrossedinhisownaffairs."

"Allwomencomplainofthatinhusbands,"saidPoirot."EspeciallyinEnglishhusbands,"headded.

"Youforeignersaremoregallant."

"Weknow,"saidPoirot,"thatitisnecessarytotellawomanatleastonceaweek,andpreferablythree
or four times, that we love her; and that it is also wise to bring her a few flowers, to pay her a few
compliments,totellherthatshelookswellinhernewdressorhernewhat."

"Isthatwhatyoudo?"

"I,Madame,amnotahusband,"saidHerculePoirot."Alas!"headded.

"I'msurethere'snoalasaboutit.I'msureyou'requitedelightedtobeacarefreebachelor."

"No,no,Madame,itisterribleallthatIhavemissedinlife."

"Ithinkone'safooltomarry,"saidSallyLegge.

"YouregretthedayswhenyoupaintedinyourstudioinChelsea?"

"Youseemtoknowallaboutme,M.Poirot?"

"Iamagossip,"saidHerculePoirot."Iliketohearallaboutpeople."Hewenton,"Doyoureallyregret,
Madame?"

"Oh,Idon'tknow."Shesatdownimpatientlyontheseat.Poirotsatbesideher.

Hewitnessedoncemorethephenomenawhichhewasbecomingaccustomed.Thisattractivered-haired
girlwasabouttosaythingstohimthatshewouldhavethoughttwiceaboutsayingtoanEnglishman.

"I hoped," she said, "that when we came down here for a holiday away from everything, that things
wouldbethesameagain...Butithasn'tworkedoutlikethat."

"No?"

"No.Alec'sjustasmoodyand-oh,Idon'tknow-wrappedupinhimself.Idon'tknowwhat'sthematter
withhim.He'ssonervyandonedge.Peopleringhimupandleavequeermessagesforhimandhewon't
tellmeanything.That'swhatmakesmemad.Hewon'ttellmeanything!Ithoughtatfirstitwassome
otherwoman,butIdon'tthinkitis.Notreally..."

ButhervoiceheldacertaindoubtwhichPoirotwasquicktonotice.

"Didyouenjoyyourteayesterdayafternoon,Madame?"heasked.

"Enjoymytea?"Shefrownedathim,thoughtsseemingtocomebackfromalongwayaway.Thenshe
saidhastily,"Oh,yes.You'venoideahowexhaustingitwas,sittinginthattentmuffledupinallthose
veils.Itwasstifling."

"Theteatentalsomusthavebeensomewhatstifling?"

"Oh,yes,itwas.However,there'snothinglikeacuppa,isthere?"

"Youweresearchingforsomethingjustnow,wereyounot,Madame?Wouldit,byanypossibility,be
this?"Heheldoutinhishandthelittlegoldcharm.

"I-oh,yes.Oh,thankyou,M.Poirot.Wheredidyoufindit?"

"Itwashere,onthefloor,inthatcrackoverthere."

"Imusthavedroppeditsometime."

"Yesterday?"

"Oh,no,notyesterday.Itwasbeforethat."

"Butsurely,Madame,Irememberseeingthatparticularcharmonyourwristwhenyouweretellingme
myfortune."

Nobody could tell a deliberate lie better than Hercule Poirot. He spoke with complete assurance and
beforethatassurance.SallyLegge'seyelidsdropped.

"Idon'treallyremember,"shesaid."Ionlynoticedthismorningthatitwasmissing."

"ThenIamhappy,"saidPoirotgallantly,"tobeabletorestoreittoyou."

Shewasturningthelittlecharmovernervouslyinherfingers.Nowsherose.

"Well,thankyou,M.Poirot,thankyouverymuch,"shesaid.Herbreathwascomingratherunevenly
andhereyeswerenervous.

ShehurriedoutoftheFolly.Poirotleanedbackintheseatandnoddedhisheadslowly.

No,hesaidtohimself,no,youdidnotgototheteatentyesterdayafternoon.Itwasnotbecauseyou
wantedyourteathatyouweresoanxioustoknowifitwasfouro'clock.Itwashereyoucameyesterday
afternoon.Here,totheFolly.Half-waytotheboathouse.Youcameheretomeetsomeone.

Onceagainheheardfootstepsapproaching.Rapid,impatientfootsteps."Andhereperhaps,"saidPoirot,
smilinginanticipation,"comeswhoeveritwasthatMrsLeggecameupheretomeet."

Butthen,asAlecLeggecameroundthecorneroftheFolly,Poirotejaculated:

"Wrongagain."

"Eh?What'sthat?"AlecLeggelookedstartled.

"I said," explained Poirot, "that I was wrong again. I am not often wrong," he explained, "and it
exasperatesme.ItwasnotyouIexpectedtosee."

"Whomdidyouexpecttosee?"askedAlecLegge.

Poirotrepliedpromptly.

"Ayoungman-aboyalmost-inoneofthesegaily-patternedshirtswithturtlesonit."

Hewaspleasedattheeffectofhiswords.AlecLeggetookastepforward.Hesaidratherincoherently:

"Howdoyouknow?Howdid-whatd'you,mean?"

"Iampsychic,"saidHerculePoirot,andclosed,hiseyes.

Alec Legge took another couple of steps forward. Poirot was conscious that a very angry man was
standinginfrontofhim.

"Whatthedevildidyoumean?"hedemanded.

"Yourfriendhas,Ithink,"saidPoirot,"gonebacktotheYouthHostel.Ifyouwanttoseehimyouwill
havetogotheretofindhim."

"Sothat'sit,"mutteredAlecLegge.

Hedroppeddownattheotherendofthestonebench.

"Sothat'swhyyou'redownhere?Itwasn'taquestionof'givingawaytheprizes.'Imighthaveknown
better."HeturnedtowardsPoirot.Hisfacewashaggardandunhappy."Iknowwhatitmustseemlike,"
hesaid."Iknowwhatthewholethinglookslike.Butitisn'tasyouthinkitis.I'mbeingvictimised.I
tellyouthatonceyougetintothesepeople'sclutches,itisn'tsoeasytogetoutofthem.AndIwantto
getoutofthem.That'sthepoint,Iwanttogetoutofthem.Yougetdesperate,youknow.Youfeellike
takingdesperatemeasures.Youfeelyou'recaughtlikearatinatrapandthere'snothingyoucando.Oh,
well, what's the good of talking? You know what you want to know now, I suppose. You've got your
evidence."

Hegotup,stumbledalittleasthoughhecouldhardlyseehisway,thenrushedoffenergeticallywithout
abackwardlook.

HerculePoirotremainedbehindwithhiseyesverywideopenandhiseyebrowsrising.

"Allthisisverycurious,"hemurmured."Curiousandinteresting.IhavetheevidenceIneed,haveI?
Evidenceofwhat?Murder?"

Chapter14

InspectorBlandsatinHelmmouthPoliceStation.SuperintendentBaldwin,alargecomfortable-looking
man,satontheothersideofthetable.Betweenthetwomen,onthetable,wasablacksoddenmass.
InspectorBlandpokedatitwithacautiousforefinger.

"That'sherhatallright,"hesaid."I'msureofit,thoughIdon'tsupposeIcouldsweartoit.Shefancied
thatshape,itseems.Sohermaidtoldme.She'dgotoneortwoofthem.Apalepinkandasortofpuce
colour,butyesterdayshewaswearingtheblackone.Yes,thisisit.Andyoufisheditoutoftheriver?
Thatmakesitlookasthoughit'sthewaywethinkitis."

"Nocertaintyyet,"saidBaldwin."Afterall,"headded,"anyonecouldthrowahatintotheriver."

"Yes,"saidBland,"theycouldthrowitinfromtheboathouse,ortheycouldthrowitinoffayacht."

"Theyacht'ssewedup,allright,"saidBaldwin."Ifshe'sthere,aliveordead,she'sstillthere."

"Hehasn'tbeenashoretoday?"

"Notsofar.He'sonboard.He'sbeensittingoutinadeck-chairsmokingacigar."

InspectorBlandglancedattheclock.

"Almosttimetogoaboard,"hesaid.

"Thinkyou'llfindher?"askedBaldwin.

"Iwouldn'tbankonit,"saidBland."I'vegotthefeeling,youknow,thathe'sacleverdevil."Hewaslost
inthoughtforamoment,pokingagainatthehat.Thenhesaid,"Whataboutthebody-iftherewasa
body?Anyideasaboutthat?"

"Yes,"saidBaldwin,"ItalkedtoOtterweightthismorning.Ex-coastguardman.Ialwaysconsulthimin
anythingtodowithtidesandcurrents.AboutthetimetheladywentintotheHelm,ifshedidgointothe
Helm,thetidewasjustontheebb.Thereisafullmoonnowanditwouldbeflowingswiftly.Reckon
she'dbecarriedouttoseaandthecurrentwouldtakehertowardstheCornishcoast.There'snocertainty
where the body would fetch up or if it would fetch up at all. One or two drownings we've had here,
we'veneverrecoveredthebody.Itgetsbrokenup,too,ontherocks.Here,byStartPoint.Ontheother
hand,itmightfetchupanyday."

"Ifitdoesn't,it'sgoingtobedifficult,"saidBland.

"You'recertaininyourownmindthatshedidgointotheriver?"

"Idon'tseewhatelseitcanbe,"saidInspectorBlandsombrely."We'vecheckedup,youknow,onthe
busesandthetrains.Thisplaceisacul-de-sac.Shewaswearingconspicuousclothesandshedidn'ttake
anyotherswithher.SoIshouldsaysheneverleftNasse.Eitherherbody'sintheseaorelseit'shidden
somewhereontheproperty.WhatIwantnow,"hewentonheavily,"ismotive.Andthebodyofcourse,"
headded,asanafterthought."Can'tgetanywhereuntilIfindthebody."

"Whatabouttheothergirl?"

"Shesawit-orshesawsomething.We'llgetatthefactsintheend,butitwon'tbeeasy."

Baldwininhisturnlookedupattheclock.

"Timetogo,"hesaid.

ThetwopoliceofficerswerereceivedonboardtheEspérancewithallDeSousa'scharmingcourtesy.
Heofferedthemdrinkswhichtheyrefused,andwentontoexpressakindlyinterestintheiractivities.

"Youarefartherforwardwithyourinquiriesregardingthedeathofthisyounggirl?"

"We'reprogressing,"InspectorBlandtoldhim.

Thesuperintendenttookuptherunningandexpressedverydelicatelytheobjectoftheirvisit.

"YouwouldliketosearchtheEspérance?"DeSousadidnotseemannoyed.Insteadheseemedrather
amused."Butwhy?YouthinkIconcealthemurdererordoyouthinkperhapsthatIamthemurderer
myself?"

"It'snecessary,MrDeSousa,asI'msureyou'llunderstand.Asearchwarrant..."

DeSousaraisedhishands.

"ButIamanxioustoco-operate-eager!Letthisbeallamongfriends.Youarewelcometosearchwhere
you will in my boat. Ah, perhaps you think that I have here my cousin, Lady Stubbs? You think,
perhaps,shehasrunawayfromherhusbandandtakenshelterwithme?Butsearch,gentlemen,byall
meanssearch."

Thesearchwasdulyundertaken.Itwasathoroughone.Intheend,strivingtoconcealtheirchagrin,the
twopoliceofficerstookleaveofMrDeSousa.

"Youhavefoundnothing?Howdisappointing.ButItoldyouthatwasso.Youwillperhapshavesome
refreshmentnow.No?"

Heaccompaniedthemtowheretheirboatlayalongside.

"Andformyself?"heasked."Iamfreetodepart?Youunderstanditbecomesalittleboringhere.The
weatherisgood.IshouldlikeverymuchtoproceedtoPlymouth."

"Ifyouwouldbekindenough,sir,toremainherefortheinquest-thatistomorrow-incasetheCoroner
shouldwishtoaskyouanything."

"Why,certainly.IwanttodoallthatIcan.Butafterthat?"

"Afterthat,sir,"saidSuperintendentBaldwin,hisfacewooden,"youare,ofcourse,atlibertytoproceed
whereyouwill."

Thelastthingtheysawasthelaunchmovedawayfromtheyacht,wasDeSousa'ssmilingfacelooking
downonthem.

II

Theinquestwasalmostpainfullydevoidofinterest.

Apart from the medical evidence and evidence of identity, there was little to feed the curiosity of the
spectators.Anadjournmentwasaskedforandgranted.Thewholeproceedingshadbeenpurelyformal.

What followed the inquest, however, was not quite so formal. Inspector Bland spent the afternoon
taking a trip in that well-known pleasure steamer, The Devon Belle. Leaving Brixwell at about three
o'clock,itroundedtheheadland,proceededaroundthecoast,enteredthemouthoftheHelmandwent
uptheriver.TherewereabouttwohundredandthirtypeopleonboardbesidesInspectorBland.Hesat
onthestarboardsideoftheboat,scanningthewoodedshore.Theycameroundabendintheriverand
passed the isolated grey tiled boathouse that belonged to Hoodown Park. Inspector Bland looked
surreptitiouslyathiswatch.Itwasjustquarter-pastfour.TheywerecomingnowclosebesidetheNasse
boathouse.Itnestledremoteinitstreeswithitslittlebalconyanditssmallquaybelow.Therewasno

sign apparent that there was anyone inside the boathouse, though as a matter of fact, to Inspector
Bland'scertainknowledge,therewassomeoneinside.P.C.Hoskins,inaccordancewithorders,wason
dutythere.

Notfarfromtheboathousestepswasasmalllaunch.Inthelaunchwereamanandgirlinholidaykit.
They were indulging in what seemed like some rather rough horse-play. The girl was screaming, the
manwasplayfullypretendinghewasgoingtoduckheroverboard.Atthatsamemomentastentorian
voicespokethroughamegaphone.

"Ladiesandgentlemen,"itboomed,"youarenowapproachingthefamousvillageofGitchamwherewe
shall remain for three-quarters of an hour and where you can have a crab or lobster tea, as well as
Devonshirecream.OnyourrightarethegroundsofNasseHouse.Youwillpassthehouseitselfintwo
or three minutes, it is just visible through the trees. Originally the home of Sir Gervase Folliat, a
contemporaryofSirFrancisDrakewhosailedwithhiminhisvoyagetothenewworld,itisnowthe
property of Sir George Stubbs. On your left is the famous Gooseacre Rock. There, ladies and
gentlemen,itwasthehabittodepositscoldingwivesatlowtideandtoleavethemthereuntilthewater
cameuptotheirnecks."

EverybodyontheDevonBellestaredwithfascinatedinterestattheGooseacreRock.Jokesweremade
andthereweremanyshrillgigglesandguffaws.

Whilethis was happening,the holidaymaker inthe boat, with afinal scuffle, didpush his lady friend
overboard. Leaning over, he held her in the water, laughing and saying, "No, I don't pull you out till
you'vepromisedtobehave."

Nobody,however,observedthiswiththeexceptionofInspectorBland.Theyhadallbeenlisteningto
themegaphone,staringforthefirstsightofNasseHousethroughthetrees,andgazingwithfascinated
interestattheGooseacreRock.

The holidaymaker released the girl, she sank under water and a few moments later reappeared on the
other side of the boat. She swam to it and got in, heaving herself ever the side with practised skill.
PolicewomanAliceJoneswasanaccomplishedswimmer.

Inspector Bland came ashore at Gitcham with the other two hundred and thirty passengers and
consumedalobsterteawithDevonshirecreamandscones.Hesaidtohimselfashedidso,"Soitcould
bedone,andnoonewouldnotice!"

III

WhileInspectorBlandwasdoinghisexperimentontheHelm,HerculePoirotwasexperimentingwitha
tentonthelawnatNasseHouse.Itwas,inactualfact,thesametentwhereMadameZuleikahadtold
herfortunes.WhentherestofthemarqueesandstandshadbeendismantledPoirothadaskedforthisto
remainbehind.

He went into it now, closed the flaps and went to the back of it. Deftly he unlaced the flaps there,
slipped out, relaced them, and plunged into the hedge of rhododendron that immediately backed the
tent. Slipping between a couple of bushes, he soon reached a small rustic arbour. It was a kind of
summer-housewithacloseddoor.Poirotopenedthedoorandwentinside.

Itwasverydiminsidebecauseverylittlelightcameinthroughtherhododendronswhichhadgrownup
rounditsinceithadbeenfirstplacedtheremanyyearsago.Therewasaboxtherewithcroquetballsin
it,andsomeoldrustedhoops.Therewereoneortwobrokenhockeysticks,agoodmanyearwigsand
spiders, and a round irregular mark on the dust on the floor. At this Poirot looked for some time. He
knelt down, and taking a little yard measure from his pocket, he measured its dimensions carefully.
Thenhenoddedhisheadinasatisfiedfashion.

He slipped out quietly, shutting the door behind him. Then he pursued an oblique course through the
rhododendronbushes.Heworkedhiswayupthehillinthiswayandcameoutashorttimeafteronthe
pathwhichledtotheFollyanddownfromtheretotheboathouse.

He did not visit the Folly this time, but went straight down the zig-zagging way until he reached the
boathouse.Hehadthekeywithhimandheopenedthedoorandwentin.

Except for the removal of the body, and of the tea tray with its glass and plate, it was just as he
rememberedit.Thepolicehadnotedandphotographedallthatitcontained.Hewentovernowtothe
table where the pile of comics lay. He turned them over and his expression was not unlike Inspector
Eland'shadbeenashenotedthewordsMarlenehaddoodleddowntherebeforeshedied."JackieBlake
goes with Susan Brown." "Peter pinches girls at the pictures." "Georgie Porgie kisses hikers in the
wood.""BiddyFoxlikesboys.""AlbertgoeswithDoreen."

He found the remarks pathetic in their young crudity. He remembered Marlene's plain, rather spotty
face. He suspected that boys had not pinched Marlene at the pictures. Frustrated, Marlene had got a
vicarious thrill by her spying and peering at her young contemporaries. She had spied on people, she
hadsnooped,andshehadseenthings.Thingsthatshewasnotmeanttohaveseen-things,usually,of
small importance, but on one occasion perhaps something of more importance? Something of whose
importancesheherselfhadhadnoidea.

Itwasallconjecture,andPoirotshookhisheaddoubtfully.Hereplacedthepileofcomicsneatlyonthe
table,hispassionfortidinessalwaysintheascendent.Ashedidso,hewassuddenlyassailedwiththe
feeling of something missing. Something... What was it? Something that ought to have been there...
Something...Heshookhisheadastheelusiveimpressionfaded.

He went slowly out of the boathouse, unhappy and displeased with himself. He, Hercule Poirot, had
been summoned to prevent a murder - and he had not prevented it. It had happened. What was even
more humiliating was that he had no real ideas even now, as to what had actually happened. It was
ignominious.AndtomorrowhemustreturntoLondondefeated.Hisegowasseriouslydeflated-even
hismoustachesdrooped.

Chapter15

It was a fortnight later that Inspector Bland had a long and unsatisfying interview with the Chief
ConstableoftheCounty.

MajorMerrallhadirritabletuftedeyebrowsandlookedratherlikeanangryterrier.Buthismenallliked
himandrespectedhisjudgment.

"Well,well,well,"saidMajorMerrall."Whathavewegot?Nothingthatwecanacton.ThisfellowDe
Sousanow?Wecan'tconnecthiminanywaywiththeGirlGuide.IfLadyStubbs'sbodyhadturnedup,
thatwouldhavebeendifferent."HebroughthiseyebrowsdowntowardshisnoseandglaredatBland.
"Youthinkthereisabody,don'tyou?"

"Whatdoyouthink,sir?"

"Oh,Iagreewithyou.Otherwise,we'dhavetracedherbynow.Unless,ofcourse,she'dmadeherplans
verycarefully.AndIdon'tseetheleastindicationofthat.She'dnomoney,youknow.We'vebeeninto
allthefinancialsideofit.SirGeorgehadthemoney.Hemadeheraverygenerousallowance,butshe's
not got a stiver of her own. And there's no trace of a lover. No rumour of one, no gossip - and there
wouldbe,markyou,inacountrydistrictlikethat."

Hetookaturnupanddownthefloor.

"Theplainfactofitisthatwedon'tknow.WethinkDeSousaforsomeunknownreasonofhisown,
made away with his cousin. The most probable thing is that he got her to meet him down at the
boathouse,tookheraboardthelaunchandpushedheroverboard.You'vetestedthatthatcouldhappen?"

"Goodlord,sir!Youcoulddrownawholeboatfulofpeopleduringholidaytimeintheriveroronthe
seashore.Nobody'dthinkanythingofit.Everyonespendstheirtimesquealingandpushingeachother
offthings.ButthethingDeSousadidn'tknowabout,wasthatthegirlwasintheboathouse,boredto
deathwithnothingtodoandtentoonewaslookingoutofthewindow."

"Hoskinslookedoutofthewindowandwatchedtheperformanceyouputup,andyoudidn'tseehim?"

"No, sir. You'd have no idea anyone was in that boathouse unless they came out on the balcony and
showedthemselves-"

"Perhaps the girl did come out on the balcony. De Sousa realises she's seen what he's doing, so he
comesashoreanddealswithher,getshertolethimintotheboathousebyaskingherwhatshe'sdoing
there. She tells him, pleased with her part in the Murder Hunt, he puts the cord round her neck in a
playful manner - and whoooosh..." Major Merrall made an expressive gesture with his hands. "That's
that!Okay,Bland;okay.Let'ssaythat'showithappened.Pureguesswork.Wehaven'tgotanyevidence.
Wehaven'tgotabody,andifweattemptedtodetainDeSousainthiscountrywe'dhaveahornet'snest
aboutourears.We'llhavetolethimgo."

"Ishegoing,sir?"

"He'slayinguphisyachtaweekfromnow.Goingbacktohisblastedisland."

"Sowehaven'tgotmuchtime,"saidInspectorBlandgloomily.

"Thereareotherpossibilities,Isuppose?"

"Oh, yes, sir, there are several possibilities. I still hold to it that she must have been murdered by
somebodywhowasinonthefactsoftheMurderHunt.Wecancleartwopeoplecompletely.SirGeorge
StubbsandCaptainWarburton.Theywererunningshowsonthelawnandtakingchargeofthingsthe
entireafternoon.Theyarevouchedforbydozensofpeople.ThesameappliestoMrsMasterton,if,that
is,onecanincludeheratall."

"Include everybody," said Major Men-all. "She's continually ringing me up about bloodhounds. In a

detectivestory,"headdedwistfully,"she'dbejustthewomanwhohaddoneit.But,dashit,I'veknown
Connie Masterton pretty well all my life. I just can't see her going round strangling Girl Guides, or
disposingofmysteriousexoticbeauties.Now,then,whoelseisthere?"

"There's Mrs Oliver," said Bland. "She devised the Murder Hunt. She's rather eccentric and she was
awayonherownforagoodpartoftheafternoon.Thenthere'sMrAlecLegge."

"Fellowinthepinkcottage,eh?"

"Yes.Helefttheshowfairlyearlyon,orhewasn'tseenthere.Hesayshegotfedupwithitandwalked
backtohiscottage.Ontheotherhand,oldMerdell-that'stheoldboydownatthequaywholooksafter
people'sboatsforthemandhelpswiththeparking-hesaysAlecLeggepassedhimgoingbacktothe
cottageaboutfiveo'clock.Notearlier.Thatleavesaboutanhourofhistimeunaccountedfor.Hesays,
ofcourse,thatMerdellhasnoideaoftimeandwasquitewrongastowhenhesawhim.Andafterall,
theoldmanisninety-two."

"Ratherunsatisfactory,"saidMajorMerrall."Nomotiveoranythingofthatkindtotiehimin?"

"HemighthavebeenhavinganaffairwithLadyStubbs,"saidBlanddoubtfully,"andshemighthave
beenthreateningtotellhiswife,andhemighthavedoneherin,andthegirlmighthaveseenithappen-
"

"AndheconcealedLadyStubbs'sbodysomewhere?"

"Yes.ButI'mblessedifIknowhoworwhere.Mymenhavesearchedthatsixty-fiveacresandthere's
notraceanywhereofdisturbedearth,andIshouldsaythatbynowwe'verootedundereverybushthere
is.Still,sayhedidmanagetohidethebody,hecouldhavethrownherhatintotheriverasablind.And
MarleneTuckersawhimandsohedisposedofher?Thatpartofit'salwaysthesame."InspectorBland
paused,thensaid,"And,ofcourse,there'sMrsLegge-"

"Whathavewegotonher?"

"Shewasn'tintheteatentfromfourtohalf-pastasshesaysshewas,"saidInspectorBlandslowly."I
spottedthatassoonasI'dtalkedtoherandtoMrsFolliat.EvidencesupportsMrsFolliat'sstatement.
Andthat'stheparticular,vitalhalf-hour."Againhepaused."Thenthere'sthearchitect,youngMichael
Weyman.It'sdifficulttotiehimupwithitinanyway,buthe'swhatIshouldcallalikelymurderer-one
ofthosecocky,nervyyoungfellows.Wouldkillanyoneandnotturnahairaboutit.Inwithalooseset,
Ishouldn'twonder."

"You'resodamnedrespectable,Bland,"saidMajorMerrall."Howdoesheaccountforhismovements?"

"Veryvague,sir.Veryvagueindeed."

"Thatproveshe'sagenuinearchitect,"saidMajorMerrallwithfeeling.Hehadrecentlybuilthimselfa
houseneartheseacoast."They'resovague,Iwonderthey'realiveatallsometimes."

"Doesn'tknowwherehewasorwhenandthere'snobodywhoseemstohaveseenhim.Thereissome
evidencethatLadyStubbswaskeenonhim."

"Isupposeyou'rehintingatoneofthesesexmurders?"

"I'monly looking aboutfor what Ican find, sir," saidInspector Bland withdignity. "And then there's
MissBrewis..."Hepaused.Itwasalongpause.

"That'sthesecretary,isn'tit?"

"Yes,sir.Veryefficientwoman."

Againtherewasapause.MajorMerralleyedhissubordinatekeenly.

"You'vegotsomethingonyourmindabouther,haven'tyou?"hesaid.

"Yes,Ihave,sir.Yousee,sheadmitsquiteopenlythatshewasintheboathouseataboutthetimethe
murdermusthavebeencommitted."

"Wouldshedothatifshewasguilty?"

"She might," said Inspector Bland slowly. "Actually, it's the best thing she could do. You see, if she
picksupatraywithcakeandafruitdrinkandtellseveryoneshe'stakingthatforthechilddownthere-
well,then,herpresenceisaccountedfor.Shegoesthereandcomesbackandsaysthegirlwasaliveat
thattime.We'vetakenherwordforit.Butifyouremember,sir,andlookagainatthemedicalevidence,
DrCook'stimeofdeathisbetweenfouro'clockandquartertofive.We'veonlyMissBrewis'swordfor
it that Marlene was alive at a quarter past four. And there's one curious point that came up about her

testimony. She told me that it was Lady Stubbs who told her to take the cakes and fruit drink to
Marlene. But another witness said quite definitely that that wasn't the sort of thing that Lady Stubbs
would think about. And I think, you know, that they're right there. It's not like Lady Stubbs. Lady
Stubbs was a dumb beauty wrapped up in herself and her own appearance. She never seems to have
ordered meals or taken an interest in household management or thought of anybody at all except her
ownhandsomeself.ThemoreIthinkofit,themoreitseemsmostunlikelythatsheshouldhavetold
MissBrewistotakeanythingtotheGirlGuide."

"Youknow,Bland,"saidMerrall,"you'vegotsomethingthere.Butwhat'shermotive,ifso?"

"Nomotiveforkillingthegirl,"saidBland;"butIdothink,youknow,thatshemighthaveamotivefor
killingLadyStubbs.AccordingtoM.Poirot,whomItoldyouabout,she'sheadoverheelsinlovewith
her employer. Supposing she followed Lady Stubbs into the woods and killed her and that Marlene
Tucker, bored in the boathouse, came out and happened to see it? Then of course she'd have to kill
Marlene too. What would she do next? Put the girl's body in the boathouse, come back to the house,
fetchthetrayandgodowntotheboathouseagain.Thenshe'scoveredherownabsencefromthefête
andwe'vegothertestimony,ouronlyreliabletestimonyonthefaceofit,thatMarleneTuckerwasalive
ataquarterpastfour."

"Well,"saidMajorMerrall,withasigh,"keepafterit,Bland.Keepafterit.Whatdoyouthinkshedid
withLadyStubbs'sbody,ifshe'stheguiltyparty?"

"Hiditinthewoods,buriedit,orthrewitintotheriver."

"Thelastwouldberatherdifficult,wouldn'tit?"

"Itdependswherethemurderwascommitted,"saidtheinspector."She'squiteaheftywoman.Ifitwas
notfarfromtheboathouse,shecouldhavecarriedherdownthereandthrownherofftheedgeofthe
quay."

"WitheverypleasuresteamerontheHelmlookingon?"

"Itwouldbejustanotherpieceofhorse-play.Risky,butpossible.ButIthinkitfarmorelikelymyself
thatshehidthebodysomewhere,andjustthrewthehatintotheHelm.It'spossible,yousee,thatshe,
knowingthehouseandgroundswell,mightknowsomeplacewhereyoucouldconcealabody.Shemay
have managed to dispose of it in the river later. Who knows? That is, of course, if she did it," added
InspectorBlandasanafterthought."Butactually,sir,IsticktodeSousa-"

MajorMerallhadbeennotingdownpointsonapad.Helookedupnow,clearinghisthroat.

"Itcomestothis,then.Wecansummariseitasfollows:we'vegotfiveorsixpeoplewhocouldhave
killed Marlene Tucker. Some of them are more likely than others, but that's as far as we can go. In a
general way, we know why she was killed. She was killed because she saw something. But until we
knowexactlywhatitwasshesaw-wedon'tknowwhokilledher."

"Putlikethat,youmakeitsoundabitdifficult,sir."

"Oh,itisdifficult.Butweshallgetthere-intheend."

"And meantime that chap will have left England - laughing in his sleeve - having got away with two
murders."

"You'refairlysureabouthim,aren'tyou?Idon'tsayyou'rewrong.Allthesame..."

Thechiefconstablewassilentforamomentortwo,thenhesaid,withashrugofhisshoulders:

"Anyway, it's better than having one of these psychopathic murderers. We'd probably having a third
mureronourhandsbynow."

"Theydosaythingsgointhrees,"saidtheinspectorgloomily.

HerepeatedthatremarkthefollowingmorningwhenheheardthatoldMerdell,returninghomefroma
visittohisfavouritepubacrosstheriveratGitcham,musthaveexceededhisusualpotationsandfallen
intheriverwhenboardingthequay.Hisboatwasfoundadrift,andtheoldman'sbodywasrecovered
thatevening.

The inquest was short and simple. The night had been dark and overcast, old Merdell had had three
pintsofbeerand,afterall,hewasninety-two.

TheverdictbroughtinwasAccidentalDeath.

Chapter16

Hercule Poirot sat in a square chair in front of the square fireplace in the square room of his London
flat.In front ofhim were variousobjects that were notsquare: that wereinstead violently and almost
impossiblycurved.Eachofthem,studiedseparately,lookedasiftheycouldnothaveanyconceivable
functioninasaneworld.Theyappearedimprobable,irresponsible,andwhollyfortuitous.Inactualfact,
ofcourse,theywerenothingofthesort.

Assessedcorrectly,eachhaditsparticularplaceinaparticularuniverse.Assembledintheirproperplace
in their particular universe, they not only made sense, they made a picture. In other words, Hercule
Poirotwasdoingajigsawpuzzle.

He looked down at where a rectangle still showed improbably shaped gaps. It was an occupation he
foundsoothingandpleasant.Itbroughtdisorderintoorder.Ithad,hereflected,acertainresemblanceto
hisownprofession.There,too,onewasfacedwithvariousimprobablyshapedandunlikelyfactswhich,
though seeming to bear no relationship to each other, yet did each have its properly balanced part in
assemblingthewhole.Hisfingersdeftlypickedupanimprobablepieceofdarkgreyandfitteditintoa
bluesky.Itwas,henowperceived,partofanaeroplane.

"Yes,"murmuredPoirottohimself,"thatiswhatonemustdo.Theunlikelypiecehere,theimprobable
piece there, the oh-so-rational piece that is not what it seems; all of these have their appointed place,
and once they are fitted in, eh bien, there is an end of the business! All is clear. All is - as they say
nowadays-inthepicture."

Hefittedin,inrapidsuccession,asmallpieceofaminaret,anotherpiecethatlookedasthoughitwas
partofastripedawningandwasactuallythebacksideofacat,andamissingpieceofsunsetthathad
changedwithTurneresquesuddennessfromorangetopink.

Ifoneknewwhattolookfor,itwouldbesoeasy,saidHerculePoirottohimself.Butonedoesnotknow
whattolookfor.Andsoonelooksinthewrongplacesorforthewrongthings.Hesighedvexedly.His
eyesstrayedfromthejigsawpuzzleinfrontofhimtothechairontheothersideofthefireplace.There,
nothalfanhourago,InspectorBlandhadsatconsumingteaandcrumpets(squarecrumpets)andtalking
sadly. He had had to come to London on police business and that police business having been
accomplished,hehadcometocalluponM.Poirot.Hehadwondered,heexplained,whetherM.Poirot
hadanyideas.Hehadthenproceededtoexplainhisownideas.Oneverypointheoutlined,Poirothad
agreedwithhim.InspectorBland,soPoirotthought,hadmadeaveryfairandunprejudicedsurveyof
thecase.

Itwasnowamonth,nearlyfiveweeks,sincetheoccurrencesatNasseHouse.Ithadbeenfiveweeksof
stagnationandofnegation.LadyStubbs'sbodyhadnotbeenrecovered.LadyStubbs,ifliving,hadnot

beentraced.Theodds,InspectorBlandpointedout,werestronglyagainstherbeingalive.Poirotagreed
withhim.

"Ofcourse,"saidBland,"thebodymightnothavebeenwashedup.There'snotellingwithabodyonce
it'sinthewater.Itmayshowupyet,thoughitwillbeprettyunrecognisablewhenitdoes."

"Thereisathirdpossibility,"Poirotpointedout.Blandnodded.

"Yes," he said," I've thought of that. I keep thinking of that, in fact. You mean the body's there - at
Nasse,hiddensomewherewherewe'veneverthoughtoflooking.Itcouldbe,youknow.Itjustcouldbe.
Withanoldhouse,andwithgroundslikethat,thereareplacesyou'dneverthinkof-thatyou'dnever
knowwerethere."

Hepausedamoment,ruminated,andthensaid;

"There'sahouseIwasinonlytheotherday.They'dbuiltanair-raidshelter,youknow,inthewar.A
flimsysortofmoreorlesshome-madejobinthegarden,bythewallofthehouse,andhadmadeaway
fromitintothehouse-intothecellar.Well,thewarended,thesheltertumbleddown,theyheapeditup
in irregular mounds and made a kind of rockery of it. Walking through that garden now, you'd never
thinkthattheplacehadoncebeenanair-raidshelterandthattherewasachamberunderneath.Looksas
thoughitwasalwaysmeanttobearockery.Andallthetime,behindawinebininthecellar,there'sa
passage leading into it. That's what I mean. That kind of thing. Some sort of way into some kind of
placethatnooutsiderwouldknowabout.Idon'tsupposethere'sanactualPriest'sHoleoranythingof
thatkind?"

"Hardly-notatthatperiod."

"That'swhatMrWeymansays-hesaysthehousewasbuiltabout1790orthereabouts.Noreasonfor
priests to hide themselves by that date. All the same, you know, there might be - somewhere, some
alterationinthestructure-somethingthatoneofthefamilymightknowabout.Whatdoyouthink,M.
Poirot?"

"Itispossible,yes,"saidPoirot."Maisoui,decidedlyitisanidea.Ifoneacceptsthepossibility,thenthe
nextthingis-whowouldknowaboutit?Anyonestayinginthehousemightknow,Isuppose?"

"Yes. Of course it would let out De Sousa." The inspector looked dissatisfied. De Sousa was still his
preferredsuspect."Asyousay,anyonewholivedinthehouse,suchasaservantoroneofthefamily,
mightknowaboutit.Someonejuststayinginthehousewouldbelesslikely.Peoplewhoonlycamein

fromoutside,liketheLegges,lesslikelystill."

"The person who would certainly know about such a thing, and who could tell you if you asked her,
wouldbeMrsFolliat,"saidPoirot.

MrsFolliat,hethought,knewalltherewastoknowaboutNasseHouse.MrsFolliatknewagreatdeal...
MrsFolliathadknownstraightawaythatHattieStubbswasdead.MrsFolliatknew,beforeMarleneand
hattie stubbs died, that it was a very wicked world and that there were very wicked people in it. Mrs
Folliat,thoughtPoirotvexedly,wasthekeytothewholebusiness.ButMrsFolliat,hereflected,wasa
keythatwouldnoteasilyturninthelock.

"I'veinterviewedtheladyseveraltimes,"saidtheinspector."Verynice,verypleasantshe'sbeenabout
everything,andseemsverydistressedthatshecan'tsuggestanythinghelpful."

Cantorwon't?thoughtPoirot.Blandwasperhapsthinkingthesame.

"There's a type of lady," he said, "that you can't force. You can't frighten them, or persuade them, or
diddlethem."

No,Poirotthought,youcouldn'tforceorpersuadeordiddleMrsFolliat.

The inspector had finished his tea, and sighed and gone, and Poirot had got out his jigsaw puzzle to
alleviate his mounting exasperation. For he was exasperated. Both exasperated and humiliated. Mrs
Oliverhadsummonedhim,HerculePoirot,toelucidateamystery.Shehadfeltthattherewassomething
wrong,andtherehadbeensomethingwrong.AndshehadlookedconfidentlytoHerculePoirot,firstto
preventit-andhehadnotpreventedit-and,secondly,todiscoverthekiller,andhehadnotdiscovered
thekiller.Hewasinafog,inthetypeoffogwherethereisfromtimetotimebafflinggleamsoflight.
Everynowandthen,orsoitseemedtohim,hehadhadoneofthoseglimpses.Andeachtimehehad
failedtopenetratefarther.Hehadfailedtoassessthevalueofwhatheseemed,foronebriefmoment,to
haveseen.

Poirotgotup,crossedtotheothersideofthehearth,rearrangedthesecondsquarechairsothatitwasat
a definite geometric angle, and sat down in it. He had passed from the jigsaw of painted wood and
cardboardtothejigsawofamurderproblem.Hetookanotebookfromhispocketandwroteinsmall
neatcharacters:

"EtienneDeSousa,AmandaBrewis,AlecLegge,SallyLegge,MichaelWeyman."

ItwasphysicallyimpossibleforSirGeorgeorJimWarburtontohavekilledMarleneTucker.Sinceit
wasnotphysicallyimpossibleforMrsOlivertohavedoneso,headdedhernameafterabriefspace.He
alsoaddedthenameofMrsMastertonsincehedidnotrememberofhisownknowledgehavingseen
MrsMastertonconstantlyonthelawnbetweenfouro'clockandquartertofive.Headdedthenameof
Henden, the butler; more, perhaps, because a sinister butler had figured in Mrs Oliver's Murder Hunt
thanbecausehehadreallyanysuspicionsofthedark-hairedartistwiththegongstick.Healsoputdown
"Boyinturtleshirt"withaquerymarkafterit.Thenhesmiled,shookhishead,tookapinfromthelapel
ofhisjacket,shuthiseyesandstabbedwithit.Itwasasgoodawayasanyother,hethought.

Hewasjustifiablyannoyedwhenthepinprovedtohavetransfixedthelastentry.

"Iamanimbecile,"saidHerculePoirot."Whathasaboyinaturtleshirttodowiththis?"

Buthealsorealisedhemusthavehadsomereasonforincludingthisenigmaticcharacterinhislist.He
recalledagainthedayhehadsatintheFolly,andthesurpriseontheboy'sfaceatseeinghimthere.Not
a very pleasant face, despite the youthful good looks. An arrogant ruthless face. The young man had
comethereforsomepurpose.Hehadcometomeetsomeone,anditfollowedthatthatsomeonewasa
personwhomhecouldnotmeet,ordidnotwishtomeet,intheordinaryway.Itwasameeting,infact,
towhichattentionmustnotbecalled.Aguiltymeeting.Somethingtodowiththemurder?

Poirotpursuedhisreflections.AboywhowasstayingattheYouthHostel-thatistosay,aboywho
wouldbeinthatneighbourhoodfortwonightsatmost.Hadhecometherecasually?Oneofthemany
young students visiting Britain? Or had he come there for a special purpose, to meet some special
person?Therecouldhavebeenwhatseemedacasualencounteronthedayofthefête-possiblythere
hadbeen.

I know a good deal, said Hercule Poirot to himself. I have in my hands many, many pieces of this
jigsaw.Ihaveanideaofthekindofcrimethiswas-butitmustbethatIamnotlookingatittheright
way.

Heturnedapageofhisnotebook,andwrote:DidLadyStubbsaskMissBrewistotaketeatoMarlene?
Ifnot,whydoesMissBrewissaythatshedid?

Heconsideredthepoint.MissBrewismightquiteeasilyherselfhavethoughtoftakingcakeandafruit
drinktothegirl.Butifsowhydidshenotsimplysayso?WhylieaboutLadyStubbshavingaskedher
todoso?CouldthisbebecauseMissBrewiswenttotheboathouseandfoundMarlenedead?Unless
MissBrewiswasherselfguiltyofthemurder,thatseemedveryunlikely.Shewasnotanervouswoman
noranimaginativeone.Ifshehadfoundthegirldead,shewouldsurelyatoncehavegiventhealarm?

Hestaredforsometimeatthetwoquestionshehadwritten.Hecouldnothelpfeelingthatsomewhere
inthosewordstherewassomevitalpointertothetruththathadescapedhim.Afterfourorfiveminutes
ofthoughthewrotedownsomethingmore.

EtienneDeSousadeclaresthathewrotetohiscousinthreeweeksbeforehisarrivalatNasseHouse.Is
thatstatementtrueorfalse?

Poirotfeltalmostcertainthatitwasfalse.Herecalledthesceneatthebreakfasttable.Thereseemedno
earthly reason why Sir George or Lady Stubbs should pretend to a surprise and, in the latter's case, a
dismay,whichtheydidnotfeel.Hecouldseenopurposetobeaccomplishedbyit.Granting,however,
that Etienne De Sousa had lied, why did he lie? To give the impression that his visit had been
announcedandwelcomed?Itmightbeso,butitseemedaverydoubtfulreason.Therewascertainlyno
evidencethatsuchaletterhadeverbeenwrittenorreceived.WasitanattemptonDeSousa'spartto
establishhisbonafides-tomakehisvisitappearnaturalandevenexpected?CertainlySirGeorgehad
receivedhimamicablyenough,althoughhedidnotknowhim.

Poirot paused, his thoughts coming to a stop. Sir George did not know De Sousa. His wife, who did
knowhim,hadnotseenhim.Wasthereperhapssomethingthere?CoulditbepossiblethattheEtienne
DeSousawhohadarrivedthatdayatthefêtewasnottherealEtienneDeSousa?Hewentovertheidea
in his mind, but again he could see no point to it. What had De Sousa to gain by coming and
representing himself as De Sousa if he was not De Sousa? In any case De Sousa did not derive any
benefitfromHattie'sdeath.Hattie,asthepolicehadascertained,hadnomoneyofherownexceptthat
whichwasallowedherbyherhusband.

Poirot tried to remember exactly what she had said to him that morning. "He is a bad man. He does
wickedthings."And,accordingtoBland,shehadsaidtoherhusband:"Hekillspeople."

Therewassomethingrathersignificantaboutthat,nowthatonecametoexamineallthefacts.Hekills
people.

OnthedayEtienneDeSousahadcometoNasseHouseonepersoncertainlyhadbeenkilled,possibly
two people. Mrs Folliat had said that one should pay no attention to these melodramatic remarks of
Hattie's.Shehadsaidsoveryinsistently.MrsFolliat...

HerculePoirotfrowned,thenbroughthishanddownwithabangonthearmofhischair.

"Always, always - I return to Mrs Folliat. She is the key to the whole business. If I knew what she
knows...Icannolongersitinanarm-chairandjustthink.No,ImusttakeatrainandgoagaintoDevon
andvisitMrsFolliat."

II

Hercule Poirot paused for a moment outside the big wrought-iron gates of Nasse House. He looked
aheadofhimalongthecurvingdrive.Itwasnolongersummer.Golden-brownleavesflutteredgently
downfromthetrees.Nearathandthegrassybankswerecolouredwithsmallmauvecyclamen.Poirot
sighed.ThebeautyofNasseHouseappealedtohiminspiteofhimself.Hewasnotagreatadmirerof
natureinthewild,helikedthingstrimandneat,yethecouldnotbutappreciatethesoftwildbeautyof
massedshrubsandtrees.

Athisleftwasthesmallwhiteporticoedlodge.Itwasafineafternoon.ProbablyMrsFolliatwouldnot
beathome.Shewouldbeoutsomewherewithhergardeningbasketorelsevisitingsomefriendsinthe
neighbourhood.Shehadmanyfriends.Thiswasherhome,andhadbeenherhomeformanylongyears.
Whatwasittheoldmanonthequayhadsaid?"There'llalwaysbeFolliatsatNasseHouse."

PoirotrappedgentlyuponthedooroftheLodge.Afterafewmoments'delay,heheardfootstepsinside.
They sounded to his ear slow and almost hesitant. Then the door was opened and Mrs Folliat stood
framed in the doorway. He was startled to see how old and frail she looked. She stared at him
incredulouslyforamomentortwo,thenshesaid:

"M.Poirot?You!"

He thought for a moment that he had seen fear leap into her eyes, but perhaps that was sheer
imaginationonhispart.Hesaidpolitely:

"MayIcomein,Madame?"

"Butofcourse."

She had recovered all her poise now, beckoned him in with a gesture and led the way into her small
sitting-room.ThereweresomedelicateChelseafiguresonthemantelpiece,acoupleofchairscovered
inexquisitepetitpoint,andaDerbyteaservicestoodonthesmalltable.MrsFolliatsaid:

"Iwillfetchanothercup."

Poirotraisedafaintlyprotestinghand,butshepushedtheprotestaside.

"Ofcourseyoumusthavesometea."

Shewentoutoftheroom.Helookedroundhimoncemore.Apieceofneedlework,apetitpointchair
seat,layonatablewithaneedlestickinginit.Againstthewallwasabookcasewithbooks.Therewasa
littleclusterofminiaturesonthewallandafadedphotographinasilverframeofamaninuniformwith
astiffmoustacheandaweakchin.

MrsFolliatcamebackintotheroomwithacupandsaucerinherhand.

Poirotsaid,"Yourhusband,Madame?"

"Yes."

Noticing that Poirot's eyes swept along the top of the bookcase as though in search of further
photographs,shesaidbrusquely:

"I'mnotfondofphotographs.Theymakeoneliveinthepasttoomuch.Onemustlearntoforget.One
mustcutawaythedeadwood."

PoirotrememberedhowthefirsttimehehadseenMrsFolliatshehadbeenclippingwithsecateursata
shrubon the bank.She had saidthen, he remembered, somethingabout dead wood.He looked at her
thoughtfully,appraisinghercharacter.Anenigmaticalwoman,hethought,andawomanwho,inspiteof
thegentlenessandfragilityofherappearance,hadasidetoherthatcouldberuthless.Awomanwho
couldcutawaydeadwoodnotonlyfromplantsbutfromherownlife...

Shesatdownandpouredoutacupoftea,asking:

"Milk?Sugar?"

"Threelumpsifyouwillbesogood,Madame?"

Shehandedhimhiscupandsaidconversationally:

"Iwassurprisedtoseeyou.SomehowIdidnotimagineyouwouldbepassingthroughthispartofthe
worldagain."

"Iamnotexactlypassingthrough,"saidPoirot.

"No?"Shequeriedhimwithslightlyupliftedeyebrows.

"Myvisittothispartoftheworldisintentional."

Shestilllookedathimininquiry.

"Icameherepartlytoseeyou,Madame."

"Really?"

"Firstofall-therehasbeennonewsoftheyoungLadyStubbs?"

MrsFolliatshookherhead.

"There was a body washed up the other day in Cornwall," she said. "George went there to see if he
couldidentifyit.Butitwasnother."Sheadded:"IamverysorryforGeorge.Thestrainhasbeenvery
great."

"Doeshestillbelievethathiswifemaybealive?"

SlowlyMrsFolliatshookherhead.

"I think," she said, "that he has given up hope. After all, if Hattie were alive, she couldn't possibly
conceal herself successfully with the whole of the Press and the Police looking for her. Even if
somethinglikelossofmemoryhadhappenedtoher-well,surelythepolicewouldhavefoundherby
now?"

"Itwouldseemso,yes,"saidPoirot."Dothepolicestillsearch?"

"Isupposeso.Idonotreallyknow."

"ButSirGeorgehasgivenuphope."

"He does not say so," said Mrs Folliat. "Of course I have not seen him lately. He has been mostly in
London."

"Andthemurderedgirl?Therehavebeennodevelopmentsthere?"

"NotthatIknowof."Sheadded,"Itseemsasenselesscrime-absolutelypointless.Poorchild-"

"Itstillupsetsyou,Isee,tothinkofher,Madame."

MrsFolliatdidnotreplyforamomentortwo.Thenshesaid:

"Ithinkwhenoneisold,thedeathofanyonewhoisyoungupsetsoneoutofdueproportion.Weold
folksexpecttodie,butthatchildhadherlifebeforeher."

"Itmightnothavebeenaveryinterestinglife."

"Notfromourpointofview,perhaps,butitmighthavebeeninterestingtoher."

"Andalthough,asyousay,weoldfolkmustexpecttodie,"saidPoirot,"wedonotreallywantto.At
leastIdonotwantto.Ifindlifeveryinterestingstill."

"Idon'tthinkthatIdo."

Shespokemoretoherselfthanhim,hershouldersdroopedstillmore.

"Iamverytired,M.Poirot.Ishallbenotonlyready,butthankful,whenmytimecomes."

Heshotaquickglanceather.Hewondered,ashehadwonderedbefore,whetheritwasasickwoman

whosattalkingtohim,awomanwhohadperhapstheknowledgeoreventhecertaintyofapproaching
death. He could not otherwise account for the intense weariness and lassitude of her manner. That
lassitude, he felt, was not really characteristic of the woman. Amy Folliat, he felt, was a woman of
character, energy and determination. She had lived through many troubles, loss of her home, loss of
wealth,thedeathsofhersons.Allthese,hefelt,shehadsurvived.Shehadcutawaythe"deadwood,"
assheherselfhadexpressedit.Buttherewassomethingnowinherlifethatshecouldnotcutaway,that
noonecouldcutawayforher.Ifitwasnotphysicalillnesshedidnotseewhatitcouldbe.Shegavea
suddenlittlesmileasthoughshewerereadinghisthoughts.

"Really,youknow,Ihavenotverymuchtolivefor,M.Poirot,"shesaid."Ihavemanyfriendsbutno
nearrelations,nofamily."

"Youhaveyourhome,"saidPoirotonanimpulse.

"YoumeanNasse?Yes-"

"Itisyourhome,isn'tit.althoughtechnicallyitisthepropertyofSirGeorgeStubbs?NowSirGeorge
StubbshasgonetoLondonyouruleinhisstead."

AgainhesawthesharplookoffearinhereyesWhenshespokehervoiceheldanicyedgetoit.

"Idon'tquiteknowwhatyoumean,M.Poirot.IamgratefultoSirGeorgeforrentingmethislodge,but
Idorentit.Ipayhimayearlysumforitwiththerighttowalkinthegrounds."

Poirotspreadouthishands.

"Iapologise,Madame.Ididnotmeantooffendyou."

"NodoubtImisunderstoodyou,"saidMrsFolliatcoldly.

"Itisabeautifulplace,"saidPoirot."Abeautifulhouse,beautifulgrounds.Ithasaboutitagreatpeace,
greatserenity."

"Yes."Herfacelightened."Wehavealwaysfeltthat.IfeltitasachildwhenIfirstcamehere."

"Butistherethesamepeaceandserenitynow,Madame?"

"Whynot?"

"Murderunavenged,"saidPoirot."Thespillingofinnocentblood.Untilthatshadowlifts,therewillnot
bepeace."Headded,"Ithinkyouknowthat,Madame,aswellasIdo."

MrsFolliatdidnotanswer.Sheneithermovednorspoke.ShesatquitestillandPoirothadnoideawhat
shewasthinking.Heleanedforwardalittleandspokeagain.

"Madame,youknowagooddeal-perhapseverything-aboutthismurder.Youknowwhokilledthat
girl,youknowwhy.YouknowwhokilledHattieStubbs,youknow,perhaps,whereherbodyliesnow."

MrsFolliatspokethen.Hervoicewasloud,almostharsh.

"Iknownothing,"shesaid."Nothing."

"PerhapsIhaveusedthewrongword.Youdonotknow,butIthinkyouguess,Madame.I'mquitesure
thatyouguess."

"Nowyouarebeing-excuseme-absurd!"

"Itisnotabsurd-itissomethingquitedifferent-itisdangerous"

"Dangerous?Towhom?"

"Toyou,Madame.Solongasyoukeepyourknowledgetoyourselfyouareindanger.Iknowmurderers
betterthanyoudo,Madame."

"Ihavetoldyoualready,Ihavenoknowledge."

"Suspicions,then-"

"Ihavenosuspicions."

"That,excuseme,isnottrue,Madame."

"Tospeakoutofmeresuspicionwouldbewrong-indeed,wicked."

Poirotleanedforward."Aswickedaswhatwasdoneherejustoveramonthago?"

Sheshrankbackintoherchair,huddledintoherself.Shehalfwhispered:

"Don'ttalktomeofit."Andthenadded,withalongshudderingsigh."Anyway,it'sovernow.Done-
finishedwith."

"How can you tell that, Madame? I tell you of my own knowledge that it is never finished with a
murderer."

Sheshookherhead.

"No.No,it'stheend.And,anyway,thereisnothingIcando.Nothing."

Hegotupandstoodlookingdownather.Shesaidalmostfretfully:

"Why,eventhepolicehavegivenup."

Poirotshookhishead.

"Oh,no,Madame,youarewrongthere.Thepolicedonotgiveup.AndI,"headded,"donotgiveup
either.Rememberthat,Madame.I,HerculePoirot,donotgiveup."

Itwasaverytypicalexitline.

Chapter17

AfterleavingNasse,Poirotwenttothevillagewhere,byinquiry,hefoundthecottageoccupiedbythe
Tuckers. His knock at the door went unanswered for some moments, as it was drowned by the high-
pitchedtonesofMrsTucker'svoicefrominside,

"-Andwhatbeyuthinkingof,JimTucker,bringingthembootsofyoursontomynicelinoleum?IfI've
telleeonceI'vetelleeathousandtimes.Beenpolishingitallthemorning,Ihave,andnowlookatit."

AfaintrumblingdenotedMrTucker'sreactiontotheseremarks.Itwasonthewholeaplacatoryrumble.

"Yu'venocausetogoforgetting.'Tisallthiseagernesstogetthesportsnewsonthewireless.Why,it
wouldn'thavetookeetominutestobeoffwiththemboots.Andyu,Gary,doeemindwhatyu'mdoing
withthatlollipop.StickyfingersIwillnothaveonmybestsilverteapot.Marilyn,thatbesomeoneat
thedoor,thatbe.Dueegoandseewho'tis."

Thedoorwasopenedgingerlyandachildofaboutelevenortwelveyearsoldpeeredoutsuspiciouslyat
Poirot.Onecheekwasbulgedwithasweet.Shewasafatchildwithsmallblueeyesandaratherpiggy
kindofprettiness.

"'Tisagentleman,mum,"sheshouted.

MrsTucker,wispsofhairhangingoverhersomewhathotface,cametothedoor.

"What is it?" she demanded sharply. "We don't need..." She paused, a faint look of recognition came
acrossherface."Whyletmesee,now,didn'tIseeyouwiththepolicethatday?"

"Alas, Madame, that I have brought back painful memories," said Poirot, stepping firmly inside the
door.MrsTuckercastaswiftagonisedglanceathisfeet,butPoirot'spointedpatentleathershoeshad
onlytroddenthehighroad.NomudwasbeingdepositedonMrsTucker'sbrightlypolishedlinoleum.

"Comein,won'tyou,sir,"shesaid,backingbeforehim,andthrowingopenthedoorofaroomonher
righthand.

Poirot was ushered into a devastatingly neat little parlour. It smelt of furniture polish and Brasso and
containedalargeJacobeansuite,aroundtable,twopottedgeraniums,anelaboratebrassfender,anda

largevarietyofchinaornaments.

"Sitdown,sir,do.Ican'trememberthename.Indeed,Idon'tthinkasIeverheardit."

"MynameisHerculePoirot,"saidPoirotrapidly."Ifoundmyselfoncemoreinthispartoftheworld
andIcalledheretoofferyoumycondolencesandtoaskyouiftherehadbeenanydevelopments.Itrust
themurdererofyourdaughterhasbeendiscovered?"

"Not sight or sound of him," said Mrs Tucker, speaking with some bitterness. "And 'tis a downright
wickedshameifyouaskme.'Tismyopinionthepolicedon'tdisturbthemselveswhenit'sonlythelikes
ofus.What'sthepoliceanyway?Ifthey'malllikeBobHoskinsIwonderthewholecountryisn'tamass
ofcrime.AllthatBobHoskinsdoesisspendhistimelookingintoparkedcarsontheCommon."

Atthispoint,MrTucker,hisbootsremoved,appearedthroughthedoorway,walkingonhisstockinged
feet.Hewasalarge,red-facedmanwithapacificexpression.

"Police be all right," he said in a husky voice. "Got their troubles just like anyone else. These here
maniacs ar'n't so easy to find. Look the same as you or me, if you take my meaning," he added,
speakingdirectlytoPoirot.

ThelittlegirlwhohadopenedthedoortoPoirotappearedbehindherfather,andaboyofabouteight
pokedhisheadroundhershoulder.TheyallstaredatPoirotwithintenseinterest.

"Thisisyouryoungerdaughter,Isuppose,"saidPoirot.

"That'sMarilyn,thatis,"saidMrsTucker."Andthat'sGary.Comeandsayhowdoyoudo,Gary,and
mindyourmanners."

Garybackedaway.

"Shy-like,heis,"saidhismother.

"Very civil of you, I'm sure, sir," said Mr Tucker, "to come and ask about Marlene. Ah, that was a
terriblebusiness,tobesure."

"IhavejustcalleduponMrsFolliat,"saidM.Poirot."She,too,seemstofeelthisverydeeply."

"She's been poorly-like ever since," said Mrs Tucker. "She's an old lady and't was a shock to her,
happeningasitdidatherownplace."

Poirot noted once more everybody's unconscious assumption that Nasse House still belonged to Mrs
Folliat.

"Makesherfeelresponsible-likeinaway,"saidMrTucker,"notthat'twereanythingtodowithher."

"WhowasitthatactuallysuggestedthatMarleneshouldplaythevictim?"askedPoirot.

"TheladyfromLondonthatwritesthebooks,"saidMrsTuckerpromptly.

Poirotsaidmildly:

"Butshewasastrangerdownhere.ShedidnotevenknowMarlene."

"'TwasMrsMastertonwhatroundedthegirlsup,"saidMrsTucker,"andIsuppose'twasMrsMasterton
saidMarlenewastodoit.AndMarlene,Imustsay,waspleasedenoughattheidea."

Once again, Poirot felt, he came up against a blank wall. But he knew now what Mrs Oliver had felt
whenshefirstsentforhim.Someonehadbeenworkinginthedark,someonewhohadpushedforward
their own desires through other recognised personalities. Mrs Oliver, Mrs Masterton. Those were the
figureheads.Hesaid:

"Ihavebeenwondering,MrsTucker,whetherMarlenewasalreadyacquaintedwiththis-er-homicidal
maniac."

"Shewouldn'tknownobodylikethat,"saidMrsTuckervirtuously.

"Ah,"saidPoirot,"butasyourhusbandhasjustobserved,thesemaniacsareverydifficulttospot.They
lookthesameas-er-youandme.SomeonemayhavespokentoMarleneatthefête,orevenbeforeit.
Madefriendswithherinaperfectlyharmlessmanner.Givenherpresents,perhaps."

"Oh,no,sir,nothingofthatkind.Marlenewouldn'ttakepresentsfromastranger.Ibroughtherupbetter
thanthat."

"Butshemightseenoharminit,"saidPoirot,persisting."Supposingithadbeensomeniceladywho
hadofferedherthings."

"Someone,youmean,likeyoungMrsLeggedowntotheMillCottage."

"Yes,"saidPoirot."Someonelikethat."

"GiveMarlenealipstickonce,shedid,"saidMrsTucker."Eversomad,Iwas.Iwon'thaveyouputting
thatmuckonyourface,Marlene,Isaid.Thinkwhatyourfatherwouldsay.Well,shesays,perkyasmay
be,'tistheladydownatLawder'sCottageasgiveitme.Saidashowitwouldsuitme,shedid.Well,I
said,don'tyoulistentowhatnoLondonladiessay.'Tisallverywellforthem,paintingtheirfacesand
blacking their eyelashes and everything else. But you're a decent girl, I said, and you wash your face
withsoapandwateruntilyou'reagooddealolderthanwhatyouarenow."

"Butshedidnotagreewithyou,Iexpect,"saidPoirot,smiling.

"WhenIsayathingImeanit,"saidMrsTucker.

ThefatMarilynsuddenlygaveanamusedgiggle.Poirotshotherakeenglance.

"DidMrsLeggegiveMarleneanythingelse?"heasked.

"Believeshegaveherascarforsummat-oneshehadn'tnomoreusefor.Ashowysortofthing,butnot
muchquality.IknowqualitywhenIseeit,"saidMrsTucker,noddingherhead."UsedtoworkatNasse
Houseasagirl,Idid.Properstufftheladiesworeinthosedays.Nogaudycoloursandallthisnylonand
rayon;realgoodsilk.Why,someoftheirtaffetadresseswouldhavestoodupbythemselves."

"Girlslikeabitoffinery,"saidMrTuckerindulgently."Idon'tmindafewbrightcoloursmyself,butI
won'thavethis'eremuckylipstick."

"A bit sharp I was with her," said Mrs Tucker, her eyes suddenly misty, "and her gorn in that terrible
way.WishedafterwardsIhadn'tspokensosharp.Ah,noughtbuttroubleandfuneralslately,itseems.

Troublesnevercomesingly,sotheysay,and'tistrueenough."

"Youhavehadotherlosses?"inquiredPoirotpolitely.

"Thewife'sfather,"explainedMrTucker."ComeacrosstheferryinhisboatfromtheThreeDogslateat
night, and must have missed his footing getting on to the quay and fallen in the river. Of course he
oughttohavestayedquietathomeathisage.Butthere,yucan'tdoanythingwiththeold'uns.Always
potteringaboutonthequay,hewas."

"Fatherwasagreatonefortheboatsalways,"saidMrsTucker."Usedtolookafterthemintheolddays
for Mr Folliat, years and years ago that was. Not," she added brightly, "as father's much loss, as you
mightsay.Welloverninety,hewas,andtryinginmanyofhisways.Alwaysbabblingsomenonsenseor
other.'Twastimehewent.But,ofcourse,ushadtoburyhimnice-andtwofuneralsrunningcostsalot
ofmoney."

TheseeconomicreflectionspassedPoirotby-afaintremembrancewasstirring.

"Anoldman-onthequay?Iremembertalkingtohim.Washisname-?"

"Merdell,sir.ThatwasmynamebeforeImarried."

"Yourfather,ifIrememberrightly,washeadgardeneratNasse?"

"No,thatwasmyeldestbrother.Iwastheyoungestofthefamily-elevenofus,therewere."Sheadded
withsomepride."There'sbeenMerdellsatNasseforyears,butthey'reallscatterednow.Fatherwasthe
lastofus."

Poirotsaidsoftly:

"There'llalwaysbeFolliatsatNasseHouse."

"Ibegyourpardon,sir?"

"Iamrepeatingwhatyouroldfathersaidtomeonthequay."

"Ah,talkedalotofnonsense,fatherdid.Ihadtoshuthimupprettysharpnowandthen."

"So Marlene was Merdell's granddaughter," said Poirot. "Yes, I begin to see." He was silent for a
moment, an immense excitement was surging within him. "Your father was drowned, you say, in the
river?"

"Yes,sir.Tookadroptoomuch,hedid.Andwherehegotthemoneyfrom,Idon'tknow.Ofcoursehe
usedtogettipsnowandagainonthequayhelpingpeoplewithboatsorwithparkingtheircars.Very
cunninghewasathidinghismoneyfromme.Yes,I'mafraidashe'dhadadroptoomuch.Missedhis
footing,I'dsay,gettingoffhisboatontothequay.Sohefellinandwasdrowned.Hisbodywaswashed
up down to Helmmouth the next day. 'Tis a wonder, as you might say, that it never happened before,
himbeingninety-twoandhalfblindedanyway."

"Thefactremainsthatitdidnothappenbefore-"

"Ah,well,accidentshappen,soonerorlater-"

"Accident,"musedPoirot."Iwonder."

Hegotup.Hemurmured:

"Ishouldhaveguessed.Guessedlongago.Thechildpracticallytoldme-"

"Ibegyourpardon,sir?"

"Itisnothing,"saidPoirot."OncemoreItenderyoumycondolencesbothonthedeathofyourdaughter
andonthatofyourfather."

Heshookhandswiththembothandleftthecottage.Hesaidtohimself:

"Ihavebeenfoolish-veryfoolish.Ihavelookedateverythingthewrongwayround."

"Hi-mister."

Itwasacautiouswhisper.Poirotlookedround.ThefatchildMarilynwasstandingintheshadowofthe
cottagewall.Shebeckonedhimtoherandspokeinawhisper.

"Mum don't know everything," she said. "Marlene didn't get that scarf off of the lady down at the
cottage."

"Wheredidshegetit?"

"BoughtitinTorquay.Boughtsomelipstick,too,andsomescent-NewtinParis-funnyname.Anda
jar of foundation cream, what she'd read about in an advertisement." Marilyn giggled. "Mum doesn't
know. Hid it at the back of her drawer, Marlene did, under her winter vests. Used to go into the
convenienceatthebusstopanddoherselfup,whenshewenttothepictures."

Marilyngiggledagain.

"Mumneverknew."

"Didn'tyourmotherfindthesethingsafteryoursisterdied?"

Marilynshookherfairfluffyhead.

"No,"shesaid."Igot'emnow-inmydrawer.Mumdoesn'tknow."

Poiroteyedherconsideringly,andsaid:

"Youseemaveryclevergirl,Marilyn."

Marilyngrinnedrathersheepishly.

"MissBirdsaysit'snogoodmytryingforthegrammarschool."

"Grammarschoolisnoteverything,"saidPoirot."Tellme,howdidMarlenegetthemoneytobuythese
things?"

Marilynlookedwithcloseattentionatadrainpipe.

"Dunno,"shemuttered.

"Ithinkyoudoknow,"saidPoirot.

Shamelesslyhedrewoutahalf-crownfromhispocketandaddedanotherhalf-crowntoit.

"Ibelieve,"hesaid,"thereisanew,veryattractiveshadeoflipstickcalled'CarmineKiss.'"

"Sounds smashing," said Marilyn, her hand advanced towards the five shillings. She spoke in a rapid
whisper."Sheusedtosnoopaboutabit,Marlenedid.Usedtoseegoings-on-youknowwhat.Marlene
wouldpromisenottotellandthenthey'dgiveherapresent,see?"

Poirotrelinquishedthefiveshillings.

"Isee,"hesaid.

He nodded to Marilyn and walked away. He murmured again under his breath, but this time with
intensifiedmeaning:

"Isee."

Somanythingsnowfellintoplace.Notallofit.Notclearyetbyanymeans-buthewasontheright
track.Aperfectlycleartrailallthewayifonlyhehadhadthewittoseeit.Thatfirstconversationwith
MrsOliver,somecasualwordsofMichaelWeyman's,thesignificantconversationwitholdMerdellon
thequay,anilluminatingphrasespokenbyMissBrewis-thearrivalofEtienneDeSousa.

Apublictelephoneboxstoodadjacenttothevillagepostoffice.Heentereditandrangupanumber.A
fewminuteslaterhewasspeakingtoInspectorBland.

"Well,M.Poirot,whereareyou?"

"Iamhere,inNassecombe."

"ButyouwereinLondonyesterdayafternoon?"

"Itonlytakesthreeandahalfhourstocomeherebyagoodtrain,"Poirotpointedout."Ihaveaquestion
foryou."

"Yes?"

"WhatkindofayachtdidEtienneDeSousahave?"

"MaybeIcanguesswhatyou'rethinking,M.Poirot,butIassureyoutherewasnothingofthatkind.It
wasn'tfittedupforsmugglingifthat'swhatyoumean.Therewerenofancyhiddenpartitionsorsecret
cubbyholes.We'dhavefoundthemiftherehadbeen.Therewasnowhereonityoucouldhavestowed
awayabody."

"Youarewrong,moncher,thatisnotwhatImean.Ionlyaskedwhatkindofayacht,bigorsmall?"

"Oh,itwasveryfancy.Musthavecosttheearth.Allverysmart,newlypainted,luxuryfittings."

"Exactly,"saidPoirot.HesoundedsopleasedthatInspectorBlandfeltquitesurprised.

"Whatareyougettingat,M.Poirot?"heasked.

"EtienneDeSousa,"saidPoirot,"isarichman.That,myfriend,isverysignificant."

"Why?"demandedInspectorBland.

"Itfitsinwithmylatestidea,"saidPoirot.

"You'vegotanidea,then?"

"Yes.AtlastIhaveanidea.UptonowIhavebeenverystupid."

"Youmeanwe'veallbeenverystupid."

"No," said Poirot, "I mean specially myself. I had the good fortune to have a perfectly clear trail
presentedtome,andIdidnotseeit."

"Butnowyou'redefinitelyontosomething?"

"Ithinkso,yes."

"Lookhere,M.Poirot-"

ButPoirothadrungoff.Aftersearchinghispocketsforavailablechange,heputthroughapersonalcall
toMrsOliveratherLondonnumber.

"Butdonot,"hehastenedtoadd,whenhemadehisdemand,"disturbtheladytoanswerthetelephoneif
sheisatwork."

He remembered how bitterly Mrs Oliver had once reproached him for interrupting a train of creative
thoughtandhowtheworldinconsequencehadbeendeprivedofanintriguingmysterycentringround
an old-fashioned long-sleeved woollen vest. The exchange, however, was unable to appreciate his
scruples.

"Well,"itdemanded,"doyouwantapersonalcallordon'tyou?"

"Ido,"saidPoirot,sacrificingMrsOliver'screativegeniusuponthealtarofhisownimpatience.Hewas
relievedwhenMrsOliverspoke.Sheinterruptedhisapologies.

"It'ssplendidthatyou'verungmeup,"shesaid."IwasjustgoingouttogiveatalkonHowIWriteMy
Books.NowIcangetmysecretarytoringupandsayIamunavoidablydetained."

"But,Madame,youmustnotletmeprevent-"

"It'snotacaseofpreventing,"saidMrsOliverjoyfully."I'dhavemadethemostawfulfoolofmyself.I
mean, what can you say about how you write books? What I mean is, first you've got to think of

something,andwhenyou'vethoughtofityou'vegottoforceyourselftositdownandwriteit.That'sall.
Itwouldhavetakenmejustthreeminutestoexplainthat,andthentheTalkwouldhavebeenendedand
everyonewouldhavebeenveryfedup.Ican'timaginewhyeverybodyisalwayssokeenforauthorsto
talkaboutwriting.Ishouldhavethoughtitwasanauthor'sbusinesstowrite,nottalk."

"AndyetitisabouthowyouwritethatIwanttoaskyou."

"Youcanask,"saidMrsOliver;"butIprobablyshan'tknowtheanswer.Imeanonejustsitsdownand
writes.Halfaminute,I'vegotafrightfullysillyhatonfortheTalk-andImusttakeitoff.Itscratches
myforehead." There wasa momentary pauseand then the voiceof Mrs Oliverresumed in a relieved
voice,"Hatsarereallyonlyasymbol,nowadays,aren'tthey?Imean,onedoesn'twearthemforsensible
reasonsanymore;tokeepone'sheadwarm,orshieldonefromthesun,orhideone'sfacefrompeople
onedoesn'twanttomeet.Ibegyourpardon,M.Poirot,didyousaysomething?"

"Itwasanejaculationonly.Itisextraordinary,"saidPoirot,andhisvoicewasawed."Alwaysyougive
meideas.SoalsodidmyfriendHastingswhomIhavenotseenformany,manyyears.Youhavegiven
menowthecluetoyetanotherpieceofmyproblem.Butnomoreofallthat.Letmeaskyouinsteadmy
question.Doyouknowanatomscientist,Madame?"

"DoIknowanatomscientist?"saidMrsOliverinasurprisedvoice."Idon'tknow.IsupposeImay.I
mean,Iknowsomeprofessorsandthings.I'mneverquitesurewhattheyactuallydo."

"YetyoumadeanatomscientistoneofthesuspectsinyourMurderHunt?"

"Oh, that! That was just to be up to date. I mean, when I went to buy presents for my nephews last
Christmas, there was nothing but science fiction and the stratosphere and supersonic toys, and so I
thoughtwhenIstartedontheMurderHunt,'Betterhaveanatomscientistasthechiefsuspectandbe
modern.' After all, if I'd needed a little technical jargon for it I could always have got it from Alec
Legge."

"AlecLegge-thehusbandofSallyLegge?Isheanatomscientist?"

"Yes, he is. Not Harwell. Wales somewhere. Cardiff. Or Bristol, is it? It's just a holiday cottage they
haveontheHelm.Yes,so,ofcourse,Idoknowanatomscientistafterall."

"AnditwasmeetinghimatNasseHousethatprobablyputtheideaofanatomscientistintoyourhead?
ButhiswifeisnotYugoslavian."

"Oh,no,"saidMrsOliver,"SallyisEnglishasEnglish.Surelyyourealisethat?"

"ThenwhatputtheideaoftheYugoslavianwifeintoyourhead?"

"I really don't know... Refugees perhaps? Students? All those foreign girls at the hostel trespassing
throughthewoodsandspeakingbrokenEnglish."

"Isee...Yes,Iseenowalotofthings."

"It'sabouttime,"saidMrsOliver.

"Pardon?"

"Isaiditwasabouttime,"saidMrsOliver."Thatyoudidseethings,Imean.Uptonowyoudon'tseem
tohavedoneanything"Hervoiceheldreproach.

"Onecannotarriveatthingsallinamoment,"saidPoirot,defendinghimself."Thepolice,"headded,
"havebeencompletelybaffled."

"Oh,thepolice,"saidMrsOliver."NowifawomanweretheheadofScotlandYard..."

Recognisingthiswell-knownphrase,Poirothastenedtointerrupt.

"Thematterhasbeencomplex,"hesaid."Extremelycomplex.Butnow-Itellyouthisinconfidence-
butnowIarrive!"

MrsOliverremainedunimpressed.

"Idaresay,"shesaid;"butinthemeantimetherehavebeentwomurders."

"Three,"Poirotcorrectedher.

"Threemurders?Who'sthethird?"

"AnoldmancalledMerdell,"saidHerculePoirot.

"Ihaven'theardofthatone,"saidMrsOliver."Willitbeinthepaper?"

"No,"saidPoirot,"uptonownoonehassuspectedthatitwasanythingbutanaccident."

"Anditwasn'tanaccident?"

"No,"saidPoirot,"itwasnotanaccident."

"Well,tellmewhodidit-didthem,Imean-orcan'tyouoverthetelephone?"

"Onedoesnotsaythesethingsoverthetelephone,"saidPoirot.

"ThenIshallringoff,"saidMrsOliver."Ican'tbearit."

"Waitamoment,"saidPoirot,"thereissomethingelseIwantedtoaskyou.Now,whatwasit?"

"That'sasignofage,"saidMrsOliver."Idothat,too.Forgetthings-"

"Therewassomething,somelittlepoint-itworriedme.Iwasintheboathouse..."

He cast his mind back. That pile of comics. Marlene's phrases scrawled on the margin. "Albert goes
withDoreen."Hehadhadafeelingthattherewassomethinglacking-thattherewassomethinghemust
askMrsOliver.

"Areyoustillthere,M.Poirot?"demandedMrsOliver.Atthesametimetheoperatorrequestedmore
money.

Theseformalitiescompleted,Poirotspokeoncemore.

"Areyoustillthere,Madame?"

"I'm still here," said Mrs Oliver. "Don't let's waste any more money asking each other if we're there.
Whatisit?"

"Itissomethingveryimportant.YourememberyourMurderHunt?"

"Well,ofcourseIrememberit.It'spracticallywhatwe'vejustbeentalkingabout,isn'tit?"

"Imadeonegravemistake,"saidPoirot."Ineverreadyoursynopsisforcompetitors.Inthegravityof
discoveringamurderitdidnotseemtomatter.Iwaswrong.Itdidmatter.Youareasensitiveperson,
Madame.Youareaffectedbyyouratmosphere,bythepersonalitiesofthepeopleyoumeet.Andthese
aretranslatedintoyourwork.Notrecognisablyso,buttheyaretheinspirationfromwhichyourfertile
braindrawsitscreations."

"That'sveryniceflowerylanguage,"saidMrsOliver."Butwhatexactlydoyoumean?"

"That you have always known more about this crime than you have realised yourself. Now for the
questionIwanttoaskyou-twoquestionsactually;butthefirstisveryimportant.Didyou,whenyou
firstbegantoplanyourMurderHunt,meanthebodytobediscoveredintheboathouse?"

"No,Ididn't."

"Wheredidyouintendittobe?"

"Inthatfunnylittlesummer-housetuckedawayintherhododendronsnearthehouse.Ithoughtitwas
justtheplace.Butthensomeone,Ican'trememberwhoexactly,beganinsistingthatitshouldbefound
intheFolly.Well,that,ofcourse,wasanabsurdidea!Imean,anyonecouldhavestrolledintherequite
casually and come across it without having followed a single clue. People are so stupid. Of course I
couldn'tagreetothat."

"So,instead,youacceptedtheboathouse?"

"Yes,that'sjusthowithappened.TherewasreallynothingagainsttheboathousethoughIstillthought
thelittlesummer-housewouldhavebeenbetter."

"Yes,thatisthetechniqueyououtlinedtomethatfirstday.Thereisonethingmore.Doyouremember
telling me that there was a final clue written on one of the 'comics' that Marlene was given to amuse
her?"

"Yes,ofcourse."

"Tellme,wasitsomethinglike-"(heforcedhismemorybacktoamomentwhenhehadstoodreading
various scrawled phrases): "Albert goes with Doreen; George Porgie kisses hikers in the wood; Peter
pinchesgirlsintheCinema?"

"Goodgraciousme,no,"saidMrsOliverinaslightlyshockedvoice."Itwasn'tanythingsillylikethat.
No,minewasaperfectlystraightforwardclue."Sheloweredhervoiceandspokeinmysterioustones.
"Lookinthehiker'srucksack."

"Épatant!"criedPoirot."Épatant!Ofcourse,the'comic'withthatonitwouldhavetobetakenaway.It
mighthavegivensomeoneideas!"

"Therucksack,ofcourse,wasonthefloorbythebodyand-"

"Ah,butitisanotherrucksackofwhichIamthinking."

"You're confusing me with all these rucksacks," Mrs Oliver complained. "There was only one in my
murderstory.Don'tyouwanttoknowwhatwasinit?"

"Not in the least," said Poirot. "That is to say," he added politely, "I should be enchanted to hear, of
course,but-"

MrsOliversweptoverthe"but."

"Very ingenious, I think," she said, the pride of authorship in her voice. "You see, in Marlene's
haversack,whichwassupposedtobetheYugoslavian'swife'shaversack,ifyouunderstandwhatImean
-"

"Yes,yes,"saidPoirot,preparinghimselftobelostinfogoncemore.

"Well, in it was the bottle of medicine containing poison with which the country squire poisoned his
wife.Yousee,theYugoslaviangirlhadbeenoverheretrainingasanurseandshe'dbeeninthehouse
whenColonelBluntpoisonedhisfirstwifeforhermoney.Andshe,thenurse,hadgotholdofthebottle
andtakenitaway,andthencomebacktoblackmailhim.That,ofcourse,iswhyhekilledher.Doesthat
fitin,M.Poirot?"

"Fitinwithwhat?"

"Withyourideas,"saidMrsOliver.

"Not at all," said Poirot, but added hastily, "All the same, my felicitations, Madame. I am sure your
MurderHuntwassoingeniousthatnobodywontheprize."

"Buttheydid,"saidMrsOliver."Quitelate,aboutseveno'clock.Averydoggedoldladysupposedtobe
quite gaga. She got through all the clues and arrived at the boathouse triumphantly, but of course the
policewerethere.Sothensheheardaboutthemurder,andshewasthelastpersonatthewholefêteto
hear about it, I should imagine. Anyway, they gave her the prize." She added with satisfaction, "That
horrid young man with the freckles who said I drank like a fish never got farther than the camellia
garden."

"Someday,Madame,"saidPoirot,"youshalltellmethisstoryofyours."

"Actually,"saidMrsOliver,"I'mthinkingofturningitintoabook.Itwouldbeapitytowasteit."

AnditmayherebementionedthatsomethreeyearslaterHerculePoirotreadTheWomanintheWood,
by Ariadne Oliver, and wondered whilst he read it why some of the persons and incidents seemed to
himvaguelyfamiliar.

Chapter18

ThesunwassettingwhenPoirotcametowhatwascalledofficiallyMillCottage,andknownlocallyas
the Pink Cottage down by Lawder's Creek. He knocked on the door and it was flung open with such
suddenness that he started back. The angry-looking young man in the doorway stared at him for a
momentwithoutrecognisinghim.Thenhegaveashortlaugh.

"Hallo,"hesaid,"it'sthesleuth.Comein,M.Poirot.I'mpackingup."

Poirotacceptedtheinvitationandsteppedintothecottage.Itwasplainly,ratherbadlyfurnished.And
Alec Legge's personal possessions were at the moment taking up a disproportionate amount of room.
Books,papersandarticlesofstrayclothingwerestrewnallaround,anopensuitcasestoodonthefloor.

"Thefinalbreakupoftheménage,"saidAlecLegge."Sallyhasclearedout.Iexpectyouknowthat."

"Ididnotknowit,no."

AlecLeggegaveashortlaugh.

"I'mgladthere'ssomethingyoudon'tknow.Yes,she'shadenoughofmarriedlife.Goingtolinkupher
lifewiththattamearchitect."

"Iamsorrytohearit,"saidPoirot.

"Idon'tseewhyyoushouldbesorry."

"Iamsorry,"saidPoirot,clearingofftwobooksandashirtandsittingdownonthecornerofthesofa,
"becauseIdonotthinkshewillbeashappywithhimasshewouldbewithyou."

"Shehasn'tbeenparticularlyhappywithmethislastsixmonths."

"Sixmonthsisnotalifetime,"saidPoirot,"itisaveryshortspaceoutofwhatmightbealonghappy
marriedlife."

"Talkingratherlikeaparson,aren'tyou?"

"Possibly.MayIsay,MrLegge,thatifyourwifehasnotbeenhappywithyouitisprobablymoreyour
faultthanhers."

"Shecertainlythinksso.Everything'smyfault,Isuppose."

"Noteverything,butsomethings."

"Oh,blameeverythingonme.Imightaswelldrownmyselfinthedamnriverandhavedonewithit."

Poirotlookedathimthoughtfully.

"I am glad to observe," he remarked, "that you are now more perturbed with your own troubles than
withthoseoftheworld."

"Theworldcangohang,"saidMr-Legge.Headdedbitterly,"Iseemtohavemadethemostcomplete
foolofmyselfallalongtheline."

"Yes," said Poirot, "I would say that you have been more unfortunate than reprehensible in your
conduct."

AlecLeggestaredathim.

"Whohiredyoutosleuthme?"hedemanded."WasitSally?"

"Whyshouldyouthinkthat?"

"Well, nothing's happened officially. So I concluded that you must have come down after me on a
privatejob."

"Youareinerror,"repliedPoirot."Ihavenotatanytimebeensleuthingyou.WhenIcamedownhereI
hadnoideathatyouexisted."

"ThenhowdoyouknowwhetherI'vebeenunfortunateormadeafoolofmyselforwhat?"

"Fromtheresultofobservationandreflection,"saidPoirot."ShallImakealittleguessandwillyoutell
meifIamright?"

"Youcanmakeasmanylittleguessesasyoulike,"saidAlecLegge."Butdon'texpectmetoplay."

"I think," said Poirot, "that some years ago you had an interest and sympathy for a certain political
party. Like many other young men of a scientific bent. In your profession such sympathies and
tendenciesarenaturallyregardedwithsuspicion.Idonotthinkyouwereeverseriouslycompromised,
but I do think that pressure was brought upon you to consolidate your position in a way you did not
want to consolidate it. You tried to withdraw and you were faced with a threat. You were given a
rendezvouswithsomeone.IdoubtifIshalleverknowthatyoungman'sname.Hewillbeformealways
theyoungmanintheturtleshirt."

AlecLeggegaveasuddenexplosionoflaughter.

"Isupposethatshirtwasabitofajoke.Iwasn'tseeingthingswerefunnyatthetime."

HerculePoirotcontinued.

"Whatwithworryoverthefateoftheworld,andtheworryoveryourownpredicament,youbecame,if
Imaysayso,amanalmostimpossibleforanywomantolivewithhappily.Youdidnotconfideinyour
wife.Thatwasunfortunateforyou,asIshouldsaythatyourwifewasawomanofloyalty,andthatif
shehadrealisedhowunhappyanddesperateyouwere,shewouldhavebeenwhole-heartedlyonyour
side. Instead of that she merely began to compare you, unfavourably, with a former friend of hers,
MichaelWeyman."

Herose.

"Ishouldadviseyou,MrLegge,tocompleteyourpackingassoonaspossible,tofollowyourwifeto
London,toaskhertoforgiveyouandtotellherallthatyouhavebeenthrough."

"Sothat'swhatyouadvise,"saidAlecLegge."Andwhatthehellbusinessisitofyours?"

"None,"saidHerculePoirot.Hewithdrewtowardsthedoor."ButIamalwaysright."

Therewasamoment'ssilence.ThenAlecLeggeburstintoawildpealoflaughter.

"Doyouknow,"hesaid,"IthinkI'lltakeyouradvice?Divorceisdamnedexpensive.Anyway,ifyou've
got hold of the woman you want, and are then not able to keep her, it's a bit humiliating, don't you

think?IshallgouptoherflatinChelsea,andifIfindMichaelthereIshalltakeholdofhimbythat
hand-knittedpansytiehewearsandthrottlethelifeoutofhim.I'denjoythat.Yes,I'denjoyitagood
deal."

Hisfacesuddenlylitupwithamostattractivesmile.

"Sorryformyfilthytemper,"hesaid,"andthanksalot."

HeclappedPoirotontheshoulder.WiththeforceoftheblowPoirotstaggeredandallbutfell.

MrLegge'sfriendshipwascertainlymorepainfulthanhisanimosity.

"And now," said Poirot, leaving Mill Cottage on painful feet and looking up at the darkening sky,
"wheredoIgo?"

Chapter19

ThechiefconstableandInspectorBlandlookedupwithkeencuriosityasHerculePoirotwasushered
in.Thechiefconstablewasnotinthebestoftempers.OnlyBland'squietpersistencehadcausedhimto
cancelhisdinnerappointmentforthatevening.

"Iknow,Bland,Iknow,"hesaidfretfully."MaybehewasalittleBelgianwizardinhisday-butsurely,
man,hisday'sover.He'swhatage?"

Blandslidtactfullyovertheanswertothisquestionwhich,inanycase,hedidnotknow.Poirothimself
wasalwaysreticentonthesubjectofhisage.

"Thepointis,sir,hewasthere-onthespot.Andwe'renotgettinganywhereanyotherway.Upagainst
ablankwall,that'swhereweare."

Thechiefconstableblewhisnoseirritably.

"I know. I know. Makes me begin to believe in Mrs Masterton's homicidal pervert. I'd even use
bloodhounds,iftherewereanywheretousethem."

"Bloodhoundscan'tfollowascentoverwater."

"Yes. I know what you've always thought, Bland. And I'm inclined to agree with you. But there's
absolutelynomotive,youknow.Notaniotaofmotive."

"Themotivemaybeoutintheislands."

"Meaning that Hattie Stubbs knew something about De Sousa out there? I suppose that's reasonably
possible, given her mentality. She was simple, everyone agrees on that. She might blurt out what she
knewtoanyoneatanytime.Isthatthewayyouseeit?"

"Somethinglikethat."

"Ifso,hewaitedalongtimebeforecrossingtheseaanddoingsomethingaboutit."

"Well,sir,it'spossiblehedidn'tknowwhatexactlyhadbecomeofher.Hisownstorywasthathe'dseen
a piece in some society periodical about Nasse House, and its beautiful châtelaine. (Which I have
always thought myself," added Bland parenthetically, "to be a silver thing with chains, and bits and
pieces hung on it that people's grandmothers used to clip on their waistbands - and a good idea, too.
Wouldn't be all these silly women for ever leaving their handbags around.) Seems, though, that in
women's jargon châtelaine means mistress of a house. As I say, that's his story and maybe it's true
enough,andhedidn'tknowwhereshewasorwhoshe'dmarrieduntilthen."

"But once he did know, he came across post-haste in a yacht in order to murder her? It's far-fetched,
Bland,veryfar-fetched."

"Butitcouldbe,sir."

"Andwhatonearthcouldthewomanknow?"

"Rememberwhatshesaidtoherhusband.'Hekillspeople.'"

"Murder remembered? From the time she was fifteen? And presumably only her word for it? Surely
he'dbeabletolaughthatoff?"

"Wedon'tknowthefacts,"saidBlandstubbornly."Youknowyourself,sir,howonceoneknowswho
didathing,onecanlookfortheevidenceandfindit."

"H'm. We've made inquiries about De Sousa - discreetly - through the usual channels - and got
nowhere."

"That's just why, sir, this funny old Belgian boy might have stumbled on something. He was in the
house-that'stheimportantthing.LadyStubbstalkedtohim.Someoftherandomthingsshesaidmay
havecometogetherinhismindandmadesense.Howeverthatmaybe,he'sbeendowninNassecombe
mostoftoday."

"AndherangyouuptoaskwhatkindofayachtEtienneDeSousahad?"

"Whenherangupthefirsttime,yes.Thesecondtimewastoaskmetoarrangethismeeting."

"Well,"thechiefconstablelookedathiswatch,"ifhedoesn'tcomewithinfiveminutes..."

ButitwasatthatverymomentthatHerculePoirotwasshownin.

Hisappearancewasnotasimmaculateasusual.Hismoustachewaslimp,affectedbythedampDevon
air,hispatent-leathershoeswereheavilycoatedwithmud,helimped,andhishairwasruffled.

"Well,sohereyouare,M.Poirot."Thechiefconstableshookhands."We'reallkeyedup,onourtoes,
waitingtohearwhatyouhavetotellus."

The words were faintly ironic, but Hercule Poirot, however damp physically, was in no mood to be
dampedmentally.

"Icannotimagine,"hesaid,"howitwasIdidnotseethetruthbefore."

Thechiefconstablereceivedthisrathercoldly.

"Arewetounderstandthatyoudoseethetruthnow?"

"Yes,therearedetails-buttheoutlineisclear."

"We want more than an outline," said the chief constable dryly. "We want evidence. Have you got
evidence,M.Poirot?"

"Icantellyouwheretofindtheevidence."

InspectorBlandspoke."Suchas?"

Poirotturnedtohimandaskedaquestion.

"EtienneDeSousahas,Isuppose,leftthecountry."

"Twoweeksago."Blandaddedbitterly,"Itwon'tbeeasytogethimback."

"Hemightbepersuaded."

"Persuaded?There'snotsufficientevidencetowarrantanextraditionorder,then?"

"Itisnotaquestionofanextraditionorder.Ifthefactsareputtohim-"

"Butwhatfacts,M.Poirot?"Thechiefconstablespokewithsomeirritation."Whatarethesefactsyou
talkaboutsoglibly?"

"ThefactthatEtienneDeSousacamehereinalavishlyappointedluxuryyachtshowingthathisfamily
isrich,thefactthatoldMerdellwasMarleneTucker'sgrandfather(whichIdidnotknowuntiltoday),
thefactthatLadyStubbswasfondofwearingthecoolietypeofhat,thefactthatMrsOliver,inspiteof
anunbridledandunreliableimagination,is,unrealisedbyherself,averyshrewdjudgeofcharacter,the
factthatMarleneTuckerhadlipsticksandbottlesofperfumehiddenatthebackofherbureaudrawer,
thefactthatMissBrewismaintainsthatitwasLadyStubbswhoaskedhertotakearefreshmenttray
downtoMarleneattheboathouse."

"Facts?"Thechiefconstablestared."Youcallthosefacts?Butthere'snothingnewthere."

"Youpreferevidence-definiteevidence-suchas-LadyStubbs'sbody?"

NowitwasBlandwhostared.

"YouhavefoundLadyStubbs'sbody?"

"Not actually found it - but I know where it is hidden. You shall go to the spot, and when you have
foundit,then-thenyouwillhaveevidence-alltheevidenceyouneed.Foronlyonepersoncouldhave
hiddenitthere."

"Andwho'sthat?"

HerculePoirotsmiled-thecontentedsmileofacatwhohaslappedupasaucerofcream.

"Thepersonitsooftenis,"hesaidsoftly;"thehusband.SirGeorgeStubbskilledhiswife."

"Butthat'simpossible,M.Poirot.Weknowit'simpossible."

"Oh,no,"saidPoirot,"itisnotimpossibleatall!Listen,andIwilltellyou."

Chapter20

Hercule Poirot paused a moment at the big wrought-iron gates. He looked ahead of him along the
curvingdrive.Thelastofthegoldenbrownleavesfluttereddownfromthetrees.Thecyclamenwere
over.

Poirotsighed.Heturnedasideandrappedgentlyonthedoorofthelittlewhitepilasteredlodge.

After a few moments' delay he heard footsteps inside, those slow hesitant footsteps. The door was

openedbyMrsFolliat.Hewasnotstartledthistimetoseehowoldandfrailshelooked.

Shesaid,"M.Poirot?Youagain?"

"MayIcomein?"

"Ofcourse."

Hefollowedherin.

Sheofferedhimteawhichherefused.Thensheaskedinaquietvoice:

"Whyhaveyoucome?"

"Ithinkyoucanguess,Madame."

Heranswerwasoblique.

"Iamverytired,"shesaid.

"Iknow."Hewenton,"Therehavenowbeenthreedeaths,HattieStubbs,MarleneTucker,oldMerdell."

Shesaidsharply:

"Merdell? That was an accident. He fell from the quay. He was very old, half-blind, and he'd been
drinkinginthepub."

"Itwasnotanaccident.Merdellknewtoomuch."

"Whatdidheknow?"

"Herecognisedaface,orawayofwalking,oravoice-somethinglikethat.ItalkedtohimthedayI

firstcamedownhere.HetoldmethenallabouttheFolliatfamily-aboutyourfather-in-lawandyour
husband,andyoursonswhowerekilledinthewar.Only-theywerenotbothkilled,werethey?Your
sonHenrywentdownwithhisship,butyoursecondson,James,wasnotkilled.Hedeserted.Hewas
reportedatfirst,perhaps,Missingbelievedkilled,andlateryoutoldeveryonethathewaskilled.Itwas
nobody'sbusinesstodisbelievethatstatement.Whyshouldthey?"

Poirotpausedandthenwenton:

"Do not imagine I have no sympathy for you, Madame. Life has been hard for you, I know. You can
havehadnorealillusionsaboutyouryoungerson,buthewasyourson,andyoulovedhim.Youdidall
youcouldtogivehimanewlife.Youhadthechargeofayounggirl,asubnormalbutveryrichgirl.Oh
yes,shewasrich.Yougaveoutthatherparentshadlostalltheirmoney,thatshewaspoor,andthatyou
had advised her to marry a rich man many years older than herself. Why should anybody disbelieve
yourstory?Again,itwasnobody'sbusiness.Herparentsandnearrelativeshadbeenkilled.Afirmof
French lawyers in Paris acted as instructed by lawyers in San Miguel. On her marriage, she assumed
controlofherownfortune.Shewas,asyouhavetoldme,docile,affectionate,suggestible.Everything
herhusbandaskedhertosign,shesigned.Securitieswereprobablychangedandresoldmanytimes,but
intheendthedesiredfinancialresultwasreached.SirGeorgeStubbs,thenewpersonalityassumedby
yourson,becamearichmanandhiswifebecameapauper.Itisnolegaloffencetocallyourself'sir'
unless it is done to obtain money under false pretences. A title creates confidence - it suggests, if not
birth,thencertainlyriches.SotherichSirGeorgeStubbs,olderandchangedinappearanceandhaving
grownabeard,boughtNasseHouseandcametolivewherehebelonged,thoughhehadnotbeenthere
since he was a boy. There was nobody left after the devastations of war who was likely to have
recognisedhim.ButoldMerdelldid.Hekepttheknowledgetohimself,butwhenhesaidtomeslyly
thattherewouldalwaysbeFolliatsatNasseHouse,thatwashisownprivatejoke.

"Soallhadturnedoutwell,orsoyouthought.Yourplan,Ifullybelieve,stoppedthere.Yoursonhad
wealth,hisancestralhome,andthoughhiswifewassubnormalshewasabeautifulanddocilegirl,and
youhopedhewouldbekindtoherandthatshewouldbehappy."

MrsFolliatsaidinalowvoice:

"That'showIthoughtitwouldbe-IwouldlookafterHattieandcareforher.Ineverdreamed-"

"Youneverdreamed-andyoursoncarefullydidnottellyou,thatatthetimeofthemarriagehewas
already married. Oh, yes - we have searched the records for what we knew must exist. Your son had
marriedagirlinTrieste,agirloftheundergroundcriminalworldwithwhomheconcealedhimselfafter
hisdesertion.Shehadnomindtobepartedfromhim,norforthatmatterhadheanyintentionofbeing
parted from her. He accepted the marriage with Hattie as a means to wealth, but in his own mind he
knewfromthebeginningwhatheintendedtodo."

"No,no,Idonotbelievethat!Icannotbelieveit...Itwasthatwoman-thatwickedcreature."

Poirotwentoninexorably:

"He meant murder. Hattie had no relations, few friends. Immediately on their return to England, he
brought her here. The servants hardly saw her that first evening, and the woman they saw the next
morning was not Hattie, but his Italian wife made up as Hattie and behaving roughly much as Hattie
behaved.Andthereagainitmighthaveended.ThefalseHattiewouldhavelivedoutherlifeasthereal
Hattie though doubtless her mental powers would have unexpectedly improved owing to what would
vaguelybecalled'newtreatment.'Thesecretary,MissBrewis,alreadyrealisedthattherewasverylittle
wrongwithLadyStubbs'smentalprocesses.

"But then a totally unforeseen thing happened. A cousin of Hattie's wrote that he was coming to
Englandonayachtingtrip,andalthoughthatcousinhadnotseenherformanyyears,hewouldnotbe
likelytobedeceivedbyanimposter.

"Itisodd,"saidPoirot,breakingoffhisnarrative,"thatthoughthethoughtdidcrossmymindthatDe
SousamightnotbeDeSousa,itneveroccurredtomethatthetruthlaytheotherwayround-thatisto
say,thatHattiewasnotHattie."

Hewenton:

"There might have been several different ways of meeting that situation. Lady Stubbs could have
avoided a meeting with a plea of illness, but if De Sousa remained long in England she could hardly
have continued to avoid meeting him. And there was already another complication. Old Merdell,
garrulous in his old age, used to chatter to his granddaughter. She was probably the only person who
botheredtolistentohim,andevenshedismissedmostofwhathesaidbecauseshethoughthim'batty.'
Nevertheless, some of the things he said about having seen 'a woman's body in the woods,' and 'Sir
GeorgeStubbsbeingreallyMrJames'madesufficientimpressiononhertomakeherhintaboutthem
tentativelytoSirGeorge.Indoingso,ofcourse,shesignedherowndeathwarrant.SirGeorgeandhis
wifecouldtakenochancesofstorieslikethatgettingaround.Iimaginethathehandedheroutsmall
sumsofhushmoney,andproceededtomakehisplans.

"Theyworkedouttheirschemeverycarefully.TheyalreadyknewthedatewhenDeSousawasdueat
Helmmouth. It coincided with the date fixed for the fête. They arranged their plan so that Marlene
shouldbekilledandLadyStubbs'disappear'inconditionswhichshouldthrowvaguesuspiciononDe
Sousa. Hence the reference to his being a 'wicked man' and the accusation: 'he kills people.' Lady
Stubbswastodisappearpermanently(possiblyaconvenientlyunrecognisablebodymightbeidentified
at some time by Sir George), and a new personality was to take her place. Actually, 'Hattie' would

merelyresumeherownItalianpersonality.Allthatwasneededwasforhertodoublethepartsovera
periodofalittlemorethantwenty-fourhours.WiththeconnivanceofSirGeorge,thiswaseasy.Onthe
day I arrived, 'Lady Stubbs' was supposed to have remained in her room until just before teatime.
NobodysawherthereexceptSirGeorge.Actually,sheslippedout,tookabusoratraintoExeter,and
travelledfromExeterinthecompanyofanothergirlstudent(severaltraveleverydaythistimeofyear)
towhomsheconfidedherstoryofthefriendwhohadeatenbadvealandhampie.Shearrivesatthe
hostel,bookshercubicle,andgoesoutto'explore.'Byteatime,LadyStubbsisinthedrawing-room.
Afterdinner,LadyStubbsgoesearlytobed-butMissBrewiscaughtaglimpseofherslippingoutof
the house a short while afterwards. She spends the night in the hostel, but is out early, and is back at
NasseasLadyStubbsforbreakfast.Againshespendsamorninginherroomwitha'headache,'andthis
timemanages to stagean appearance asa 'trespasser' rebuffed bySir George fromthe window of his
wife'sroomwherehepretendstoturnandspeaktohiswifeinsidethatroom.Thechangesofcostume
were not difficult - shorts and an open shirt under one of the elaborate dresses that Lady Stubbs was
fondofwearing.Heavywhitemake-upforLadyStubbswithabigcooliehattoshadeherface;agay
peasant scarf, sunburned complexion, and bronze-red curls for the Italian girl. No one would have
dreamedthatthosetwowerethesamewoman.

"Andsothefinaldramawasstaged.Justbeforefouro'clockLadyStubbstoldMissBrewistotakeatea-
tray down to Marlene. That was because she was afraid such an idea might occur to Miss Brewis
independently,anditwouldbefatalifMissBrewisshouldinconvenientlyappearatthewrongmoment.
Perhaps,too,shehadamaliciouspleasureinarrangingforMissBrewistobeatthesceneofthecrime
at approximately the time it was committed. Then, choosing her moment, she slipped into the empty
fortune-tellingtent,outthroughthebackandintothesummerhouseintheshrubberywhereshekepther
hiker'srucksackwithitschangeofcostume.Sheslippedthroughthewoods,calledtoMarlenetolether
in,andstrangledtheunsuspectinggirlthenandthere.Thebigcooliehatshethrewintotheriver,then
shechangedintoherhikerdressandmake-up,packeduphercyclamengeorgettedressandhigh-heeled
shoes in the rucksack - and presently an Italian student from the youth hostel joined her Dutch
acquaintanceattheshowsonthelawn,andleftwithherbythelocalbusasplanned.WheresheisnowI
donotknow.IsuspectinSohowhereshedoubtlesshasunderworldaffiliationsofherownnationality
whocanprovideherwiththenecessarypapers.Inanycase,itisnotforanItaliangirlthatthepoliceare
looking,itisforHattieStubbs,simple,subnormal,exotic.

"But poor Hattie Stubbs is dead, as you yourself, Madame, know only too well. You revealed that
knowledgewhenIspoketoyouinthedrawing-roomonthedayofthefête.ThedeathofMarlenehad
beenabadshocktoyou-youhadnothadtheleastideaofwhatwasplanned;butyourevealedvery
clearly,thoughIwasdenseenoughnottoseeitatthetime,thatwhenyoutalkedof'Hattie,'youwere
talking of two different people - one a woman you disliked who would be 'better dead,' and against
whomyouwarnedme'nottobelieveawordshesaid'-theotheragirlofwhomyouspokeinthepast
tense,andwhomyoudefendedwithawarmaffection.Ithink,Madame,thatyouwereveryfondofpoor
HattieStubbs..."

Therewasalongpause.

MrsFolliatsatquitestillinherchair.Atlastsherousedherselfandspoke.Hervoicehadthecoldness
ofice.

"Yourwholestoryisquitefantastic,M.Poirot.Ireallythinkyoumustbemad...Allthisisentirelyin
yourhead,youhavenoevidencewhatsoever."

Poirotwentacrosstooneofthewindowsandopenedit.

"Listen,Madame.Whatdoyouhear?"

"Iamalittledeaf...WhatshouldIhear?"

"Theblowsofapickaxe...TheyarebreakinguptheconcretefoundationoftheFolly...Whatagood
placetoburyabody-whereatreehasbeenuprootedandtheearthisalreadydisturbed.Alittlelater,to
makeallsafe,concreteoverthegroundwherethebodylies,and,ontheconcrete,erectaFolly..."He
addedgently:"SirGeorge'sFolly...TheFollyoftheownerofNasseHouse."

AlongshudderingsighescapedMrsFolliat.

"Suchabeautifulplace,"saidPoirot."Onlyonethingevil...Themanwhoownsit..."

"I know." Her words came hoarsely. "I have always known... Even as a child he frightened me...
Ruthless...Withoutpity...Andwithoutconscience...ButhewasmysonandIlovedhim...Ishouldhave
spokenoutafterHattie'sdeath...Buthewasmyson.HowcouldIbetheonetogivehimup?Andso,
becauseofmysilence-thatpoorsillychildwaskilled...Andafterher,dearoldMerdell...Wherewould
ithaveended?"

"Withamurdereritdoesnotend,"saidPoirot.

Shebowedherhead.Foramomentortwoshestayedso,herhandscoveringhereyes.

ThenMrsFolliatofNasseHouse,daughterofalonglineofbravemen,drewherselferect.Shelooked
straightatPoirotandhervoicewasformalandremote.

"Thankyou,M.Poirot,"shesaid,"forcomingtotellmeyourselfofallthis.Willyouleavemenow?

Therearesomethingsthatonehastofacequitealone..."