AgathaChristie-HerculePoirotsCasebook

by Hercule Poirot's Casebook (lit)

  'And the work, it is not too hard?'

  'Well, she's particular - always poking round in cornen and

  looking for dust. And then there's the lodger, or paying guest

  as he's always called. But that's only breakfast and dinner, same

  as Master. They're out all day in the City.'

  'You like your master?'

  'He's all right - very quiet and a bit on the stingy side.'

  'You can't remember, I suppose, the last thing Eliza said

  before she went out?'

  'Yes, I can. "If there's any stewed peaches over from The

  dining-room," she says, "we'll have them for supper, and a bit

  of bacon and some fried potatoes." Mad over stewed peaches,

  she was. I shouldn't wonder if they didn't g her that way.'

  'Was Wednesday her regular day out?'

  'Yes, she had Wednesdays spa I had Thursdays.'

  Poirot asked a few more questions, then declared himself

  satisfied. Annie departed, and Mrs Todd hurried in, her face

  alight with curiosity. She had, I felt certain, bitxerly resented

  her exclusion from the room during our conversation with

  Annie. Poirot, however, was careful to soothe her feelings

  tactfully.

  It is difficult,' he explained, 'for s woman of exceptional

  iatclligence such as yourself, madame, to bear padendy the

  roundabout me, ods we poor detectives arc forced to use. To

  have patience with stupidity is difficult for the quick-witted.'

  Having thus charmed away any Ut-de resentment on Mrs

  Todd's part, he brought the conversation round to her husband

  and elicited the information that he worked with a fu'm in the

  City and would not be home until after six.

  256

  ,Doubtless

  he is very disturbed and won4i by this

  ..business, eh? Is it not so?'

  'lie's never worried; dec. lmeed Mrs Todd.' "Well, well, get

  nother. my dear." That's all h said! lie's so calm that it drives

  llle lo distraction solnetillles. " ungrateful womsll," he said.

  "We are well rid of her."'

  'What about the other inmates of the house, madame?'

  'You mean Mr Simpson, our paying guest? Well, as long as

  he gets his brealffast and his evening meal all right, h doem't worry.'

  'What is his profession, madame?'

  'He works in a bank.' She mentioned its name, ami I started

  lightly, remembering my perusal of the Daily Blare.

  'A young man?'

  ,Twenty-eight, I believe, lqice quiet young fellow.'

  'I should like to have a few words with him, and also with

  your husband, if I may. I will return for that putlx this

  evening. I venture to suggest that you should repose your a

  little, madame, you look fatigued.'

  'I should just think I am! First the worry about Eliza, and

  then I was at the sales practically all yesterday, and you gnow

  what that is, M. Poirot, and what with one thing and another

  and a lot to do in the house, because of course Annie can't do

  it all - and very likely she'll give notice anyway, being unsettled

  in this way - well, what with it all, I'm fired out!'

  Poirot murmured sympatheticallY, .and we took our leave.

  'It's a curious coincidence,' I said, 'but that absconding

  clerk, Davis, was from the same bank as Simpson. Can there be

  any connection, do you think?'

  Poirot smiled.

  'At the one end, a defaulting clerk, at the other a vanishing

  cook. It is hard to see any relation between the two, unless

  possibly Davis visited Simpson, fell in love .with the cook, and

  ·

  --rsuaded her to accompany .him on his flight.

  'I laughed. But Poirot remained grave,

  reprovingly.

  ·

  'He might have done worse,' he said

  'Remember, Hastings, if you are going into exile, a good cook

  may be of more comfort than a pretty face!' He paused for a

  257

  moment ahd then went on. 'It is a curious case, full of

  contradictory features. I am interested - yes, I am distinctly

  interested.'

  That evening we returned to 88 Prince Albert Road and

  interviewed both Todd and Simpson. The former was a

  melancholy lantern-jawed man of forty-odd.

  'Oh! Yes, yes,' he said vaguely. 'Eliza. Yes. A good cook, I

  believe. And economical. I make a strong point of economy.,

  'Can you imagine any reason for her leaving you so

  suddenly?'

  'Oh, well,' said Mr Todd vaguely. 'Servants, you know. My

  wife worries too much. Worn out from always worrying. The

  whole problem's quite simple really. "Get another, my der,"

  I say. "Get another." That's all there is to it. No good crying

  over spilt milk.'

  Mr Simpson was equally unhelpful. He was a quiet

  inconspicuous young man with spectacles.

  'I must have seen her, I suppose,' he said. 'Elderly woman,

  wasn't she? Of course, it's the other one I see always, Annie.

  Nice girl. Very obliging.'

  'Were those two on good terms with each other?'

  so.Mr Simpson said he couldn't say, he was sure. He supposed

  'Well, we get nothing of interest there, mon am/,' said Poirot

  as we left the house. Our departure had been delayed by a burst

  of vociferous repetition from Mrs Todd, Who repeated everything

  she had said that morning at rather greater length.

  'Are you disappointed?' I asked. 'Did you expect to hear

  something?'

  Poirot shook his head..

  'There was a possibility, of course,' he said. 'But I hardly

  thought it likely.'

  The next development was a letter which Poirnt received on

  the following morning. He read. it, turned purple with

  indignation, and handed it to me.

  Mrs Todd regrets that after all she will not avail herself

  8

  of Mr Poirot's services. After talking the matter over with

  her husband she sees that it is foolish to call in a detective

  about a purely domestic affair. Mrs Todd encloses a

  guinea for consultation fee.

  'Aha!' cried Poirot angrily. 'And they think to get rid of

  Hercule Poirot like that! As a favour- a great favour - I consent

  to investigate their miserable little twopeuny-halfpenny affair

  o and they dismiss me comme la! Here, I mistake not, is the

  hand of Mr Todd. But I say no! - thirty-six times no! I will

  spend my own guineas, thirty-six hundred of them if need be,

  but I will get to the bottom of this matter?

  'Yes,' I said. 'But how?'

  Poirot calmed down a little.

  'D'abord,' he said, 'we will advertise in the papers. Let me

  see - yes - something like this: "If Eliza Dunn will communicate

  with this address, she will hear of something to her

  'advantage.' Put it in all the papers you can think of, Hastings.

  Then I will make some little inquiries of my own. Go, go - all

  must be done as quickly as possible?

  I did not see him again until the evening, when he

  condescended to tell me what he had been doing.

  'I have made inquiries at the firm of Mr Todd. He was not

  absent on Wednesday, and he bears a good character - so much

  for him. Then Simpson, on Thursday he was ill and did not<
br />
  come to the bank, but he was there on Wednesday. He was

  moderately friendly with Davis. Nothing out of the common.

  There does not seem to be anything there. No. We must place

  our reliance on the advertisement.'

  The advertisement duly appeared in all the principal daily

  papers. By Poirot's orders it was to be continued every day for

  a week. His eagerness over this uninteresting matter of a

  defaulting cook was extraordinary, but I realized that he

  considered it a point of honour to persevere until he finally

  succeeded. Several extremely interesting cases were brought to

  him about this time, but he declined them all. Every morning

  he would rush at his letters, scrutinize them earnestly and then

  lay them down with a sigh.

  259

  But our patience was rewarded at last. On the

  following Mrs Todd's visit, our landlady informed friar a

  person of the name of Eliza Dunn had called.

  'Enfin!' cried Poirot. 'But make her mount thenf At 'race.

  Immediately.'

  .

  Thus admonished, our landlady hurried out and returned

  moment or two later, ushering in Miss Duma. Our quarry was

  much as described: tall, stout, and eminently respectable.

  'I came in answer to the advertisement,, she explained.

  thought there must be some muddle or other, and that perhaps

  you didn't know I'd already got my legacy.'

  Poirot was studying her attentively. He drew forward a cair

  with a flourish.

  'The truth of the matter is,' he explained, 'that your late

  mistress, Mrs Todd, was much concerned about you. She

  feared some accident might have befallen you.'

  Eliza Dunn seemed very much surprised.

  'Didn't she get my letter then?'

  'She got no word of any kind.' He paused, and then said

  persuasively: 'Recount to me the whole story, wi you not.)'

  Eliza Dunn needed no encouragement. She plunged at once

  into a lengthy narrative.

  'I was just coming home on Wednesday night and had near!y

  got to the house, when a gentleman stopped me. A tag

  gentleman he was, with a beard and a big hat. "Miss ElV:a

  Dunn?" he said. "Yes," I said. "I've been inquiring for you at

  No. 88," he .said. "They told me I might meet you coming

  along here. Miss Dunn, I have come from Australia specially to

  find you. Do you happen to know th -

  c

  mmaen name oI your

  maternal

  grandmother? lane Emmott,"

  I said. "Exactly,"

  he said.

  "Now, Miss Dunn, although you may never have

  heard of

  the fact, your grandmother had a great friend, El/za

  Leech. This

  friend ·

  went

  to

  Australia where she married a very

  wealthy

  rtler. Her two children died in infancy, and she

  '--' all her husband's property. She died a few months

  It her will you inherit a house in

  ,

  le sum of money."

  figs country and a

  258

  ,Id have knocked wp down with a feather,' con

  t/hued Miss Duma. 'For a minute, I was suspicious, and he

  must have seen it, for he smiled. "Quite right to be on your

  guard, Miss Dunn," he said. "Here are my credentials." He

  handed me a letter from some lawyers in Melbourne, Hurst

  and Crotchet, and a card. He was Mr Crotchet. "There are one

  or two conditions," he said. "Our client was a little eccentric,

  you know. The bequest is conditional on your taking posses-sion

  of the house (it is in Cumberland) before twelve o'clock

  tomorrow. The other condition is of no importance - it is

  merely a stipulation that you should not be in domestic

  service." My face fell. "Oh, Mr Crotchet," I said. "I'm a cook.

  Didn't they tell you at the house?" "Dear, dear," he said. "I

  had no idea of such a thing. I thought you might possibly be a

  companion or governess there. This is very unfortunate - very

  unfortunate indeed."

  ' "Shall I have to lose all the money?" I said, anxious like. He'

  thought for a minute or two. "There are always ways of getting

  round the law, Miss Duma," he said at last. "We as lawyers

  know that. The way out here is for you to have left your

  employment this afternoon." "But my month?" I said. "My

  dear Miss Durra,' he said with a smile. "You can leave an.

  employer any minute by forfeiting a month's wages. Your

  mistress will understand in view of the circum.tances. The

  difficulty is time! It is/mperative that you should catch the 11.5

  from King's Cross to the north. I can advance you ten pounds

  or so for the fare, and you can write a note at the station to your

  employer. I will take it to her myself and explain the whole

  circumstances." I agreed, of course, and an hour later I was in

  the train, so flustered that I didn't know whether I was on my

  head or heels. Indeed by the time I got to Carlisle, I was half

  inclined to think the whole thing was one of those confidence

  tri 'cks you read about. But I went to the address he had given

  me - solidtors they were, and it was all right. A nice little

  house, and an income of tlu'ee hundred a year. These lawyers

  knew very little, they'd just got a letter from a gentleman in

  London instructing them to hand over the house to me and

  150 pounds for the first six months. Mr Crotchet sent up my things

  to me, but there was no word from Missus. I supposed she was

  261

  angry and grudged me my bit of luck. She kept back my box

  too, and sent my clothes in paper parcels. But there, of coucs¢

  if she never had my letter, she might think it a bit cool of me.'

  Poirot had listened attentively to this long history. Now he

  nodded his head as though completely satisfied.

  'Thank you, mademoiselle. There had been, as you say, a

  little muddle. Permit me to recompense you for your trouble.'

  He handed her an envelope. 'You return to Cumberland

  immediately? A little word in your ear. Do not forget h to

  cook. It is always useful to have something to fall back upon in

  'Credulous,' he murmured, as our visitor departed, 'but

  perhaps not more than most of her cls.' His face grew grave.

  'Come, Hastings, there is no time to be lost. Get a taxi while I

  write a note to Japp.'

  Poirot was waiting on the doorstep when I returned with e

  taxi.

  'Where are we going?' I asked anxiously.

  'First, to despatch this note by spec/al .',

  This was done, and re-entering the taxi Poirot gave the

  address to the driver.

  'Eighty-eight Prince Albert Road, Clapham.'

  'So we are going there?'

  'Mais oui. Though frankly I fear we shall be too late. Our

  bird will have flown, Hastings.'

  'Who is our bird?'

  Poirot smiled.

  'The inconspicuous Mr Simpson.'

  'What?' I exclaimed.

  'Oh, come now, Hastings, do not tell me that all is not dear

  to you now?

  'The cook --s got out of the Way, I realize that,' I said,

 
sI;'''

  'But why? Why should Simpson wish to get

  se? Did she know something about him?'

  258

  'No, my friend - something quite different.' He paused a and then said gravely: 'A battered tin trunk...'

  I looked sideways at him. His statement seemed so fantastic

  I suspected him of pulling my leg, but he was perfectly

  i'$rave and serious.

  'Surely he could buy a trunk if he wanted one,' I cried.

  'He did not want a new trunk. He wanted a trunk of

  pedigree. A trunk of assured respectability.'

  'Look here, Poitot,' I cried, 'this really is a bit thick. You're

  pulling my leg.'

  He looked at me.

  'You lack the brains and the imagination of Mr Simpson,

  Hastings. See here: On Wednesday evening, Simpson decoys

  away the cook. A printed card and a printed sheet of notepaper

  are simple matters to obtain, and he is willing to pay £150 and

  a year's house rem to assure the success of his plan. Miss Dunn

  does not recognize him - the beard the hat and the slight

  colonial accent completely deceive her. That is the end of

  Wednesday - except for the trifling fact that Simpson has

  helped himself to fty thousand pounds' worth of negotiable

  securities.'

  'Simpson - but it was Dads '

  'If you will kindly permit me to continue, Hastings!

  Simpson knows that the theft will be discovered on Thursday

  afternoon. He does not go to the bank on Thursday, but he lies

  in wait for Davis when he comes out to lunch, perhaps he

  admits the theft and tells Davis he will return the securities to

  him - anyhow he succeeds .in getting Davis to come to