Agatha Christie's Secret Notebooks

by John Curran

  SOLUTIONS REVEALED

  ’The Affair at the Bungalow’ • After the Funeral • Appointment with Death • At Bertram’s Hotel • ‘The Companion’ • Death in the Clouds • Elephants Can Remember • Murder on the Orient Express • ‘The Mystery of Hunter’s Lodge’ • The Mystery of the Blue Train • Sparkling Cyanide • Taken at the Flood • Three Act Tragedy • Plot details of most of the Labours are also revealed.

  The Labours of Hercules

  8 September 1947

  The Labours of Hercules is not just Agatha Christie’s greatest short story collection; it is one of the greatest collections in the entire crime fiction genre. It is brilliant in concept, design and execution. As he once again plans his retirement and the consequent cultivation of vegetable marrows, Poirot is attracted to the idea of a few well-chosen cases as his swan song. He decides to accept only cases similar to those undertaken by his mythological namesake, with the stipulation that his will be metaphorical equivalents.

  All but one of the stories were published originally in The Strand magazine over a period of almost a year. ‘The Nemean Lion’ appeared in November 1939 and the rest of the tales followed in the same order as the book until ‘The Apples of the Hesperides’ in September 1940. The final story, ‘The Capture of Cerberus’, did not appear in The Strand and has a more complicated history, which is discussed, with the original version of that story, in the Appendix to this volume.

  In August 1948 Penguin Books made publishing history when they issued one million Agatha Christie books on the same day—100,000 copies each of ten titles. The venture was such a success that it was repeated five years later. This time they were titles of her own choosing, and for each she wrote a special Foreword giving some background information. One of this second batch was The Labours of Hercules and in its Foreword Christie explains that Poirot’s Christian name was the inspiration that prompted her to write these stories. She goes on to explain that some of the tales, ‘The Lernean Hydra’ and ‘The Cretan Bull’, for instance, were straightforward and, indeed, these are very typical Christie village-murder-mystery Poirot cases. ‘The Erymanthian Boar’ and ‘The Girdle of Hyppolita’, she reveals, gave her more trouble—and ‘The Capture of Cerberus’ almost defeated her.

  The metaphors throughout are inspired—wagging tongues represent the multi-headed viper in ‘The Lernean Hydra’, a sleazy tabloid newspaper stands for the polluted Augean Stables and ‘The Apples of the Hesperides’ are those on a priceless Cellini chalice. The stories themselves range from the domestic mystery in ‘The Lernean Hydra’ and the nostalgic love story, albeit with a Christie twist, in ‘The Arcadian Deer’, to the brutal thriller in ‘The Erymanthian Boar’. Amusing scenes—Poirot suffering in a hotel in the west of Ireland—alternate with terrifying scenes—Poirot helpless at the approach of a razor-wielding criminal—and poignant ones—Poirot convincing a terminally ill ballerina to return to her true love.

  In many of the stories she manages to work in a second example of symbolism apart from the main one. ‘The Erymanthian Boar’ features a dangerous criminal in snowy surroundings, mirroring the physical setting as well as the metaphorical animal; ‘The Cretan Bull’ has a man of magnificent physique as well as, literally, basinfuls of blood; in ‘The Apples of the Hesperides’ Poirot is helped by the tipster Atlas who, like his famous namesake, takes the weight of Poirot on his shoulders; and the clamouring schoolgirls at the end of ‘The Girdle of Hyppolita’ are compared to the Amazons from the fable. Hercules’ castanets of bronze in the original are replaced by the modern telegraph in ‘The Stymphalean Birds’; the golden horns of ‘The Arcadian Deer’ appear as the golden hair of Katrina and in the mythical version Hercules does not kill the deer but returns it safely, as does Hercule Poirot with the love of Ted Williamson’s life.

  There are copious notes for this inventive collection. This in itself is unusual, as there are relatively few notes for most of Christie’s short stories. This is probably because the writing of this collection involved extra research into the originals and more working out of detail than normally associated with the writing of a short story. Also, these stories were written as part of a collection and not, as before, individual stories for sporadic publication. Most of these notes are included in Notebook 44 with some minor notes scattered over three others, Notebooks 28, 39 and 62.

  Notebook 44 contains some of the background to the Greek myths that Christie used as a basis for the tales:

  Hydra of Lernea—9 heads burnt out in flames—last head cut off and buried

  The Deer with feet of bronze—horns of gold—feet of bronze—dedicated to Artemis—a year to find her

  Boar of Erymanthe—Combined with centaurs of Pholoe—trapped on precipice of snow and captured alive

  Augean Stables—River through breach in wall

  Birds of Stymphalia—Birds of prey eat human flesh. H drives them out with bronze castanets and shoots them

  Cretan Bull—mad bull

  Horses of Diomedes (Mares)—savage—chained to mangers—H tames them

  Girdle of Hyppolita—Hera spreads rumour and Amazons revolt

  Troupeau of Geryon—giant with 3 bodies or with 3 heads—guarded by 2-headed dog Ortho and Eurython

  Apples of Hesperides—H holds up sky while A[tlas] gets apples—A wants table then H asks for cushion for shoulder—hands back to A and goes off. Golden apples given by Immo to Jupiter for nuptials—apples delivered—are given back to Hesperides

  Cerberus—Descent into underworld—no weapon—Cerberus returns to underworld

  She toyed with a few ideas before getting down to the serious plotting and many of these were incorporated into the finished product. Eight of the stories follow, with only minor variations, these initial notes, although she made changes to ‘The Horses of Diomedes’. Notice, though, how the two stories that she admitted gave her some trouble, ‘The Erymanthian Boar’ and ‘The Girdle of Hyppolita’, change quite considerably and the one that ‘almost defeated’ her, ‘The Capture of Cerberus’, is totally different in the published collection:

  Lion of Nemea—Peke dog kidnapped

  Hydra of Lernea—Poison Pen—or scandal in country place—one person at bottom of it

  Lernean Hydra—Woman suspected of killing husband—(verdict was accident!)

  Deer of Arcadia—Dancer who disappears—young man—could P find her

  Erymanthian Boar—Criminal traced and taken—race gang?

  Stymphalean Birds—Young man blackmailed…by two women

  Augean Stables—Political scandal—HP to distract attention—gets medical student to produce dead body Sham murder? Party funds or archaeological theft?

  Cretan Bull—Mad killer?

  Horses of Diomedes—taming of his children—boys? By introducing them to police work

  Girdle of Hyppolita—a head mistress? Oxford don? A priceless manuscript?

  Geryon Cattle—Strange sect—leader unmasked—perhaps the flock of some pastor—a new sect—religious enthusiast Ceryon from Orient—eastern Religion

  Apple of Hesperides—Treasure in a convent—disappeared many years ago—stolen—given by thief to convent

  Gerberus—A dog story? Or somebody dead—brought back from the dead—or been murdered?

  ‘The Nemean Lion’

  The kidnapping of a Pekingese dog provides Poirot with his first Labour.

  As can be seen, the notes for ‘The Nemean Lion’ are extensive and follow closely the published version. It may well have been the case that, as the first story in the series, Christie gave it a lot of thought and careful consideration. It is also the longest story in the collection. There is a lone note in Notebook 39 that foreshadows this plot; although it does not generally resemble the published version of ‘The Nemean Lion’, the story does feature the important fact of Miss Carnaby’s inheritance of a Peke from a former employer:

  Companion left Peke—she goes as housemaid—gives different names alternate places? She and friend�
�latter gets reward

  The next extract, from Notebook 44, is an accurate precis of the published story:

  HP summoned by Joseph Hoggin—old boy very upset—his wife lost her Pekingese—received a demand for £200, which she paid and dog was returned. HP has interview with Mrs J and Miss Carnaby—the companion—foolish talkative woman. Facts are as follows—Amy and Ching went to park—A saw baby in his pram—just speaking to Nurse but Ching gone—lead cut—she fetches lead—HP admits it is cut—the women look at him breathlessly—then letter comes—the money to be sent in £1 notes.

  In the end P instructs Georges to find flat between certain limits—he asks Sir J—remind him of manufacturer in Liege who poisoned his wife to marry a blonde secretary. P’s visit to flat on Miss A’s day out—Augustus barks and tries to keep him out. The invalid sister—P knows all—her defence—no pension—old age—no home and no education—a trade union. Ching left at flat—Augustus taken—can always find his way home. How often? Ten times.

  There is more to this story than at first meets the eye. Amy Carnaby is a delightful but poignant creation. Her situation—elderly untrained companion facing a bleak future in her old age—is similar to that of Dora Bunner in A Murder is Announced when Miss Blacklock rescues her. Miss Carnaby’s criminal brain is, however, a major asset and Poirot, in ‘The Flock of Geryon’, calls her ‘one of the most successful criminals that I have ever encountered’. The plot, a very clever one, is also particularly rich for a 20-page short story. There is the main plot involving the Pekinese dog/Nemean Lion but also a sub-plot involving the soap manufacturer poisoner in Belgium years earlier. And it is not fanciful to see, in the switch-of-dogs idea, the forerunner of Evil under the Sun, which appeared two years later. Poirot also mentions this case in Chapter 14 of The Clocks.

  ‘The Lernean Hydra’

  Ugly rumours bring Poirot to a small village to investigate the death of the doctor’s wife.

  The plot of this story is largely contained on two pages in Notebook 44, the only difference being the change of name from Nurse Carpenter to Harrison:

  Doctor comes to P—embarrassed—no good going to police—wife dead—rumours—practice falling off- doesn’t know how to combat it. P asks—who is the woman? Doctor angry—leaves—P says must have truth. Girl dispenser—admits will marry her—wife a difficult invalid—details of her death consistent with poisoning arsenic. P warns him—I shall get at truth. P sees girl—honest—frank—says old Miss L is worst. P. sees Miss L—etc. etc. Tracked down to Nurse—Handsome middle-aged woman—Nurse Carpenter?—She did it. He finds nurse—her Madonna face—he presses her—autopsy—she says no—no indeed—she was murdered—morphia pills

  And ten pages later…

  Lernean Hydra Cont.

  P talks of Home Office—she says yes—because Mrs O was murdered. P gets them to announce engagement—Jean gets abusive letter. The morphia pills—v—opium pills—Doctor called in—orders opium pills—which Jean supplies

  The intervening pages include preliminary notes for four of the other Labours as well as two pages of chemical formulae, possibly of potential poisons. This outline is generally in keeping with the published story; note however that the idea, in the second extract, of announcing an engagement and a consequent abusive letter is not pursued. In many ways this is the most typically Christiean of all the Labours—Poirot goes to a small village to investigate a mysterious death, in this case the possible poisoning of a wife, whose husband is under suspicion. The short stories ‘The Cornish Mystery’ and ‘How Does Your Garden Grow?’, and the novels Dumb Witness and Mrs McGinty’s Dead, as well as the Marple novel The Moving Finger, all have similar set-ups. And this short story has distinct parallels with the earlier story ‘The Blue Geranium’ from The Thirteen Problems.

  ‘The Arcadian Deer’

  Poirot penetrates an impersonation in an effort to reunite two lovers before it is too late.

  ’The Arcadian Deer’ is an idyllic story, as befits one set in Arcady, and does not feature a crime. There is however a Christiean twist in the final words of the first extract—and one that she uses a few times elsewhere in her work, although usually for a sinister purpose. The impersonation of an attendant (maid, butler, waiter, steward) is used here for non-criminal reasons, unlike its use in Death in the Clouds, Appointment with Death, Three Act Tragedy, Sparkling Cyanide, Elephants Can Remember and At Bertram’s Hotel. And its reverse (the impersonation by a domestic of a ‘real person’) is a feature of Taken at the Flood, The Mystery of the Blue Train, After the Funeral and Murder on the Orient Express. Short stories ‘The Affair at the Bungalow’ and ‘The Companion’ from The Thirteen Problems and ‘The Mystery of Hunter’s Lodge’ from Poirot Investigates also feature this ploy.

  There are two sketches for the opening scene of this story, the second of which is the more detailed. Both versions are accurate, although Ted’s beloved, Mary Brown in the first draft, has become in the second the more romantic Marie and, ultimately, ‘Nita—Incognita—Juanita’:

  Young man in country village—car breaks down—appeals to him—find his sweetheart Mary Brown—gone to London and vanished—if in trouble will see her through. Was MB down there with a rich lady—MB was servant—really the dancer herself (kept by Lord Masterfield?) or wife of a rich polo playing young American. P sees her—a hard faced Young woman—she tells him she has not maid’s address. The maid—a coarse looking girl. P knows it is the girl herself

  Begging your pardon Sir—the young man—simple—handsome as a god—his persistence. Recognised HP from photo in Tatler—couldn’t be another moustache like that—P softens. P has dinner at Inn—young man comes up there—find this girl—Marie—doesn’t know other name. Switzerland—the girl—he hardly remembers her—so changed—her maid—Yes—remembers her—that other—do you mean Juanita—replaced maid when latter was away—P says Yes—what happened to her—she died young—Arcady. P explains—mystery about maid—blackmailed Sir George—his wife—Nita—Incognita—Juanita

  ‘The Erymanthian Boar’

  A violent criminal and an isolated setting combine to make this fourth Labour a very dangerous one.

  As befits its origins, this is the most bloodthirsty of the Labours and is in many ways a very atypical Christie story. A gangster arranging a rendezvous on a Swiss mountaintop is not a regular feature of her output. The image of Hercule Poirot hopping out of bed to relieve three thugs of their firearms while someone else holds them at bay is one that sits badly with the great detective of the square eggs and the blackcurrant sirop. That said, it contains a twisting plot with multiple impersonations crammed into a mere 20 pages. This is also a use of the plastic surgeon idea, which is mentioned a few times in the Notebooks, including the early, unused notes for Sleeping Murder, as well as those for Crooked House and the tentative dramatisation of Murder in Mesopotamia.

  The following notes accurately reflect, if somewhat cryptically, the course of a rather complicated story:

  Switzerland—HP leaves World’s End—goes to Zermatt and up from there to hotel at top—something happens to funicular. Has HP first received telegram—or note—from M. Belex who saw him—the notorious Marascaud—believed to be up there—Inspector Drouet—certain people went up in funicular with him.

  Schwab—lonely American

  Dr. Karl Lutz (nervous physician) or Austrian Jewish doctor—facial surgeon

  3 horsey men—cardsharpers

  Nervous English doctor

  Already there?

  The waiter—Gustave—introduces himself to HP as Inspector Drouet

  Manager—terribly nervous—has been bribed by Gust[ave]

  Mysterious patient

  Marascaud bookmaker—took cash—share out in this lonely place. Gustave said ‘It’s one of them’—G is ‘attacked’ in night—doctor attends on him—speaks to P. P sees him—his face smothered in bandages. Who attacked him—3 men—they get drunk—attack P—Schwab—saves him with pistol

>   Christie’s preliminary notes for this story are partly utilised as the criminal Marrascaud is ‘traced and taken’ alive—an important point, as Poirot underlines in the last line of the story; the ‘race gang’ element, however, is not pursued.

  ‘The Augean Stables’

  The fifth Labour presents Poirot with one of the most unusual cases of his entire career.

  The plot for this story—involving some elements from Christie’s preliminary notes, though not the ‘dead body’—is summarised in Notebook 62:

  Hercule Poirot and Prime Minister—P looks at him—as old Scotch chemistry Professor has said he’s a good man. P explains why Dagmar always hated her father—clean up the Augean stables—P sees Mrs NP—still beautiful woman—her reaction—P says certain cryptic things to her.

  P and Dashett (young newspaper man)—says you have to turn the Thames and wash out Houses of Parliament. Sydney Cox—editor of This Week’s Garbage—nasty little man—HP comes to them—pleads—threatens—finally begs. Paragraph—The Honey Bee—in Little Bedchester—in the Tube—Mrs NP leaves London for Scotland. Libel trial—Miss Greta Handersohn—a waitress in a café in Copenhagen—approached by a journalist. P says a very old idea—Queen’s Necklace—to discredit Marie Antoinette.

  This story follows the notes very closely, but there is one puzzling feature—the use of the initials ‘NP’ throughout in reference to the Prime Minister. There is no equivalent in the story, where the Prime Minister is Edward Ferrier. Although it is an enjoyable story with an inspired symbolism, it is one that is in the highest degree unlikely both in the mechanics of the story and in its outcome. One can’t help wondering if Christie’s unpleasant experiences in the aftermath of her 1926 disappearance were, to some degree, responsible for this swipe at the tabloid newspaper industry. This case is mentioned in the ‘Maids in the Kitchen’ chapter of One, Two, Buckle My Shoe when Poirot refers to it as ‘ingenious’.