Mr Waverly paused. Poirot smiled to himself and straightened a little mat which the anxious father had pushed askew.
'A pleasing little problem, obscure and charming,' murmured Poirot. 'I will investigate it for you with pleasure. Truly it was planned i mervle.'
Mrs Waverly looked at him reproachfully. 'But my boy,' she wailed.
Poirot hastily composed his face and looked the picture of earnest sympathy again. 'He is safe, madame, he is unharmed. Rest assured, these miscreants will take the greatest care of him. Is he not to them the turkey - no, the goose - that lays the golden eggs?'
'M. Poirot, I'm sure there's only one thing to be done - pay up. I was all against it at first- but now! A mother's feelings '
'But we have interrupted monsieur in his history,' cried Poirot hastily.
'I expect you know the rest pretty well from the papers,' said Me Waverly. 'Of course, Inspector McNeil got on to the telephone immediately. A description of the car and the man was circulated all round, and it looked at first as though everything was going to turn out all right. A car, answering to the description, with a man and a small boy, had passed through various villages, apparently making for London. At one place they had stopped, and it was noticed that the child
IllspeCt°'
- - --an and boy detained, I was almost ill with relief. You know the sequel. The boy was not Johnnie, ardent motorist, fond of children, who had pickes up a small child playing in the streets of Edenswell, a village about fifteen miles from us, and was 16ndiy giving him a ride. Thanks to the cocksure blundering of the police, all traces have disappeared.
Had they not persistently followed the wrong car, they might go, by now have found the .y.
police are a brave and
'Calm yourself, monsieur. The intelligent force of men. Their mistake was a very natural one.
All altogether it was a clever scheme. As to the man they caught in the grounds, I understand that his defence has consisted all along of a persistent denial. He declared that the and parcel were given to him to deliver at Waverly Court.
· note P - handed him a ten-shilling note! The man who gave mere to and promised him another if it were delivered at exactly ten · minutes to twelve. He was to approach the house throngh the - '- ' -r'
'I don't believe a word ox n, 'It's all a parcel of lies.'
'Eh verily, it is a thin story,' said Poiru reflectively. 'But so far they have not shaken it. I understand, also, that he made a certain accusation?'
His glance interrogated Mr Waverly. The latter got rather red again, impertinence to pretend that he 'The fellow had the recognized in Tredwell the man who gave him the parcel.
"Only the bloke has shaved off his moustache." Tredwell, who was born on the estate!' ···
Poirot smiled a little at the country gentleman's 'indignation.
'Yet you yourself suspect an inmate of the house to have been accessory to the abduction.'
'Yes, but not Tredwell.'
'And you, madame?' asked Poirot, suddenly mining to her.
'It could not have been Tredwell who gave this tramp the letter and parcel - if anybody ever did, which I don't believe.
It was given him at ten o'clock, he says. At ten o'clock Tredve was with my husband in the smoking-room.'
'Were you able to see the face of the man in the monsieur? Did it resemble that of Tredwell in any 'It was too far away for me to see his face.'
'Has Tredwell a brother, do you know?'
'He had several, but they are all dead. The last one was killed in the war.'
'I am not yet clear as to the grounds of Waverly Court. The car was heading for the south lodge. Is there another entrance?'
'Yes, what we call the east lodge. It can be seen from the other side of the house.'
'It seems to me strange that nobody saw the car entering the grounds.'
'There is a right of way through, and access to a small chapel, A good many cars pass through. The mm must have stopped the car in a convenient place and run up to the house just as the alarm was given and attention attracted elsewhere.'
'Unless he was already inside the house,' mused Poirot 'Is there any place where he could have hidden?'
'Well, we certainly didn't make a thorough search of the house beforehand. There seemed no need. I suppose he might have hidden himself somewhere, but who would have let him in?'
'We shall come to that later. One thing at a time - let us be methodical.. There is no special hiding-place in the house?
Waverly Court is an old place, and there are sometimes "priests' holes", as they call them.'
'By god, there's a priest's hole. It opens from one of the panels in the hall.'
'Near the council chamber?'
'Just outside the door.'
'But nobody knows of its existence except my wife and myself.'
'Tredwell?'
'Well - he might have heard of it.'
'Miss Collins?'
'I have never mentioned it to her.'
Ooirot reflected for a minute.
'Well, monsieur, the next thing is for me to come down to Waverly Court. If I arrive this afternoon, will it suit you?'
'As soon as possible, please, Monsieur Poirot!' cried Oh. as pos Waverly. 'Read this once more.'
She thrust into his hands the last missive from the enemy which had reached the Waverlys that morning and which had sent her post-haste to Poirot. It gave clever and explicit · ' long for the paying over of the money, and ended .wth that the boy's life would pay for any treachery. It dtea warred with the essential mother love clear that a love of money gaining the day.
of Mrs Waverly, and that the latter was at last behind her Poirot detained Mrs Waverly for a minute husband.
'Madame, the truth, if you please. Do you share your husband's faith in the butler, Tredwell?'
nothing against him, Monsieur Poirot, I rmot see 'I have concerned in this, but - well, I have how he can have been never liked him - never?
'One other thing, madame, can you give me the address of the child's nurse?'
don't imagine '
'149 lqetherall Road, Hammersmith. You grey cells.
'Never do I imagine. Only - I employ the little And sometimes, just sometimes, I have a little idea.'
Poirot came back to me as the door closed.
'So madame has never liked the butler. It is interesting, that, eh, Hastings?'
I refused to be drawn. Poirot has deceived me so often that I now go warily. There is always a catch somewhere.
After completing an elaborate outdoor toilet, we set off for .4etherall Road. We were fortunate enough to find Miss Jessie Withers at home. She was a pleasant-faced woman of thirty-five, capable and superior. I could not believe that she could be mixed up in the affair. She was bitterly resentful of the way she had been dismissed, but admitted that she had been in the wrong. She was engaged to be married to a painter and decorator who happened to be in the neighbourhood, and she had run out to meet him. The thing seemed natural eough.
I could not quite understand Poirot. All his questions me quite irrelevant. They were concerned mainly Wth daily routine of her life at Waverly Court. I was frankly bored and glad when Poirot took his departure.
'Kidnapping is an easy job, mon am/,' he observed, as he hailed a taxi in the Hammersmith Road and ordered it to drive to Waterloo. 'That child could have been abducted with greatest ease any day for the last three years.'
'I don't see that that advances us much,' I remarked coldly.
'Au contraire, it advances us enormously, but enormously. If you must wear a tie pin, Hastings, at least let it be in the exact centre of your tie. At present it is at least a sixteenth of an inch too much to the right.'
Waverly Court was a frae old place and had recently been restored with taste and care. Mr Waverly showed us the council chamber, the terrace, and all the various spots connected with the case. Finally, at Poirot's request, he pressed a spring in the wall, a panel slid aside, and a short pa
ssage led us into the priest's hole.
'You see,' said Waverly. 'There is nothing here.'
The tiny room was bare enough, there was not even the mark of a footstep on the floor. I joined Poirot where he was bending attentively over a mark in the corner.
'What do you make of this, my friend?'
There were four imprints close together.
'A dog,' I cried.
'A very small dog, Hastings.'
'A Porn.'
'Smaller than a Porn.'
'A griffon?' I suggested doubtfully.
'Smaller even than a griffon. A species unknown to the Kennel Club.'
I looked at him. His face was alight with excitement satisfaction.
'I was right,' he murmured. 'I knew I was right. Come, Hastings.'
As we stepped out into the hall and the panel closed behind a our lady came out of a door farther down the passage.
s ./,, presented her to us.
'Miss Collins.'
thirty years of age, brisk .and alert in Miss Collins was about fair rather dull hair, and wore pm. ce-nez.
.,saner. She had , ----a into a small morning-room, '" At poirOt'S request, we pa,, · her closely as to the servants and particularly ¢ uesnoned ·
· the butler.
and h q . , o,.. oamitted that she did not like aS tO Treclweu. of 'He gives himself airs,' she explained.
They then went into the question of the food eaten by Mrs VsverlY on the night of the 28th. Miss Collins declared that she had partaken of the same dishes upstairs in her sitting ora and had felt no ill effects. As she was departing I nudged Poirot.
'The dog,' I whispered.
'Ah, yes, the dog!' He smiled broadly. 'Is there a dog kept here by any chance, mademoiselle?'
'There are two retrievers in the kennels outside.'
'No, I mean a small dog, a toy dog.'
'No - nothing of the kind.'
Poirot permitted her to depart. Then, pressing the hell, he remarked to me, 'She lies, that Mademoiselle Collins. Possibly I should, also, in her place, blow for the butler.'
Tredwell was a dignified individual. He told his story with perfect aplomb, and it was essentially the same as that of Mr Waverly. He admitted that he knew the secret of the priest's hole.
When he finally withdrew, pontifical to the last, I met Poirot's quizzical eyes.
'What do you make of it all, Hastings?
'What do you?' I parried.
'How cautious you become, never, never will the grey cells function unless you stimulate them. Ah, but I will not tease you! Let us make our deductions together. What points strike us specially as being difficult?'
I said. 'Why did the man
'There s one thing that strikes me instead of who kidnapped the child go out by the south lodge by the east lodge where no one would see him?'
'That is a very good point, Hastings, an excellent match it with another. Why warn the Waverlys beforehand?
Why not simply kidnap the child and hold him to t
'Because they hoped to get the money without be to action.'
'Surely it was very unlikely that the money would be paid on a mere threat?'
'Also they wanted to focus attention on twelve o'clock, so that when the tramp man was seized, the other could emerge from his hiding-place and get away with the child unnoticed.
'That does not alter the fact that they were nmldng a thing difficult that was perfectly easy. If they do not spe a time or date, nothing would be easier than to wait their chance, and carry off the child in a motor one day when he is out with his
'Ye - es,' I admitted doubtfully.
'In fact, there is a deliberate playing of the farce! Now let us approach the question from another side. Everything goes to show that there was an accomplice inside the house. Point number one, the mysterious poisoning of Mrs Waverly. Point number two, the letter pinned to the pillow. Point number three, the putting on of the clock ten minutes - all inside jobs.
And an additional fact that you may not have noticed. There was no dust in the priest's hole. It had been swept out with a broom.
'Now then, we have four people in the house. We can exclude the nurse, since she could not have swept out the priest's hole, though she could have attended to the other three points. Four people, Mr and Mrs Waverly, Tredwell, the butler, and Miss Collins. We will take Miss Collins fa-st. We have nothing much against her except that we know very little about her, that she is obviously an intelligent young woman, and that she has only been here a year.'
'She lied about the dog, you said,' I reminded him.
'Ah, yes, the dog.' Poirot gave a peculiar smile. 'Now let us pass to Tredwell. There are several suspicious facts against him. For one thing, the tramp declares that it was Tredwell who gave him the parcel in the village.'
Ii can prove an alibi on that poem..
,0 . Tredwell -ned Mrs waveny, pinned -. he could have poso · the pillo , mm a o he , . the other hand,
-,s,. last degree priest s s,,-...On ' 't sems unlikely u, the service of the Waverlys.·
,t he should co.nmve ,at the abductv of the son of the house t is not in the ptcture'.
-- n?'
,Well, the ·
'We must proceed logically - however absurd it may see?.
We will briefly consider Mrs Waverly. But she is rich, the snoneY is hers. It is her money which has ttored this inapoverished estate. There would he no tnmson for her to kidnap her son and pay over her money to herself. The husband, no, is in a different position, lie has a rich wife. It is as being rich himself- in fact I have a little not the same thing of parting with her money, idea that the lady is not very fond except on a very good pretext. But Waverly, you can see at once, he is a eur.'
,impossible,' I spluttered.
'blot at all. Who sends away the servants? Mr Waverly. He can write the notes, drug his wife, put on the hands of the c., and establish an excellent alibi for his faithful relmner Tredwell. Tredwell has never liked Mrs Waverly. He is devoted to his master and is willing to obey his orders · Mr. Waverty, Tredwell, implicitly. There were three of them m and some friend of Waverly. That is the mistake the police made no further inquiries about the maxi who drove made, they it. lie was the third nn.
car with the wrong child i. -- -'th tlax curls.
the grey . . ·
e nea Iy, a 10oy'm He ctrives tn u,,,----
wavi his hand and south lodge just at the right moment, face or the number of the cat' s°·
e cannot see the child's obviously th Y. s.,, a false trail to Lonaon. ·u u mes to be delivered by a in arranging for the parcel and note . ··
part man His master can provide ronghlootang gen..c- ' - him, in spt the unlikely ?se.or the for Mr WaverlY, as soon as the false moustache ne wore. r,., ,,
qh.byalo?,oc?rs outside, and the ins or ...
runes th .t,a :--t . - pect rushes oK, Later in the cl,, ... ..... P t s hole, follows him ....
is v,t --, wacn me inspector is ione ar ,:., 7
,c-, ?' wm we easy enough to drive ;, 'But what about the dog?' I asked. 'And Miss Collins lying., 'That was my little joke. I asked her if there were any toy dogs in the house, and she said no - but doubtless there some - in the nursery! You see, Mr Waverly placed some toys in the priest's hole to keep Johnnie amused and quiet.'
'M. Poirot - ' Mr Waverly entered the room - 'have you discovered anything? Have you any clue to where the boy has been taken?'
Poirot handed him a piece of paper. 'Here is the address.'
'But this is a blank sheet.'
'Because I am waiting for you to write it down for.'
'What the -' Mr Waverly's face turned purple..'
'I know everything, monsieur. I give you twenty-four hours to return the boy. Your ingenuity will be equal to the task of explaining his reappearance. Otherwise, Mrs Waverly will be informed of the exact sequence of events.'
Mr Waverly sank down in a chair and buried his face in his hands. 'He is with my old nurs
e, ten miles away. He is happy and well cared for.'
'I have no doubt of that. If i did not believe you to be a good father at heart, I should not be to give you another chance. '
'The scandal'
'Exactly. Your name is an old and honoured one. Do not jeopardize it again. Good evening, Mr Waverly. Ah, by the way, one word of advice. Always sweep in the corners!'
THE KING OF CLUBS
'Truth,' I observed, hying aside the Daily Newsmonger, 'is stranger than fiction!'
The remark was not, perhaps, an original one. It appeared to lincense my friend. Tilting his egg-shaped head on one side, the little man carefully flied an imaginary fleck of dust from his carefully creased trousers, and observed: 'How profound. What a thinker is my friend Hastings!'
Without displaying any annoyance at this quite uncalled for gibe, I tapped the sheet I had laid aside.
'You've read this morning's paper?'
'I have. And after reading it, I folded it anew symmetrically I did not cast it on the floor as you have done, with your lamentable absence of order and method.'
(That is the worst of Poirot. Order and Method are his gods. He goes so far as to attribute all his success to them.)
'Then you saw the account of the murder of Henry Reedburn, the impresario? It was that which prompted m remark. Not only is truth stranger than fiction - it is more dramatic. Think of that solid middle-class English family, the Oglanders. Father and mother, son and daughter, typical of thousands of families all over this country. The men of the family go to the city every day; the women look after the house.
Their lives are perfectly peaceful, and utterly monotonous.
Last night they were sitting in their neat suburban drawing-room at Daisymead, Streatham, playing bridge. Suddenly, without any warning, the french window bursts open, and a woman staggers into the room. Her grey satin frock is marked with a crimson stain. She utters one word, "Murder!" before she sinks to the ground insensible. It is possible that they recognize her from her pictures as Valerie Saintclair, the famous dancer who has lately take London by storm!'
'Is this your eloquence, or that of the Daily inquired Poirot.
'The Daily Newsmonger was in a hurry to go to press: and contented itself with bare facts. But the dramatic possibides of the story struck me at once.'
Hercule Poirot's Casebook (hercule poirot) Page 22
