Hercule Poirot's Casebook

'Oh, perhaps - perhaps. You asked me about Julia Carting-ton.

There's really not very much to say. I've never taken to he

very much, and I don't think she cares for me. She's one of

these restless, nervy women, recklessly extravagant and mad

about cards. She's old-fashioned enough, I think, to despise

me as being a self-made man.'

Poirot said:

'I looked you up in Who's Who before I came down. You

were the head of a famous engineering firm and you are

yourself a first-class engineer.'

'There's certainly nothing I don't know about the practical

side. I've worked my way up from the bottom.'

Lord Mayfield spoke rather grimly.

'Oh la la!' cried Poirot. 'I have been a fool - but a fool!'

3.

The other stared at him.

'I beg your pardon, M. Ioif°t' . .

.

' at

rtion of" uzzle nas oecome car to me

tism apo

tee

'

Something I did not see be£or··· But it all fits in. Yes - it

in' with beautiful precision.'

him in somewhat astonished

Lord Mayfield looked at

inquiry.

a slight smile P · at shook his head.

But with not now. I m]r'ange my ideas a little more

NO no

clearly.'

He rose.

'Goodnight, Lord MaYel/1' I think I know where those

plallS are.

LOrd Mayfield cried out:

'You know? Then let us gel hold of them at once!'

Poirot shook his head.

'No, no, that would not cio. recipitancy would be fatal. But

leave it all to Hercule Poirot,

He went out of the room. ord Mayfield raised his shoulders

in contempt.

, , o,,, t,

go,, ' hA -at;ttered. Then, putting

away

his

bed.

CHAPTER 6

'If there's been

a burul- - the devil doesn't

old Mayfield

1 a-W,

XvB

, · ' on

send for the

police?' demarlde."e,gg.e .,Cax,

..

.

.

He -ushed his chair sli-' "t}ac from me orearaast tao

e.

, ru

.

e wa

the

last down Hi u

st, Mrs Macatta and Sir George

................. 'ae

time

bef6re

His

mother

and

had

finished

their

breakfasta

se

'

Mrs

Vanderlyn

were

breakt?as

fi g

in

bed.

Sir

George,

repeating

his

st

tement

on

the

lines

agreed

upon

4O

between Lord Mayfield and Hercule Poirot, had a feeling tha

he was not managing it as well as he might have done.

'To send for a queer foreigner like this seems very odd tl

me,' said Reggie. 'What has been taken, Father?'

'I don't know exactly, my boy.'

Reggie got up. He looked rather nervy and on edge this

morlling.

'Nothing - important? No - papers or anything like that?'

'To tell you the truth, Reggie, I can't tell you exactly.'

'Very hush-hush, is it? I see.'

Reggie ran up the stairs, paused for a moment haft-way with

a frown on his face, and then continued his ascent ami tapped

on his mother's door. Her voice bade him enter.

Lady Julia was sitting up in bed, scribbling figures on the

back of an envelope.

'Good morning, darling.' She looked up, then said sharply:

'Reggie, is anything the matter?'

'Nothing much, but it seems there was a burglary last night.'

'A burglary? What was taken?'

'Oh, I don't know. It's all very hush hush. There's some odd

kind of private-inquiry agent downstairs asking everybody

questions.'

'How extraordinary?

'It's rather unpleasant,' said Reggie slowly, 'staying in a

house when that kind of thing happens.'

'What did happen exactly?'

'Don't know. It was some time after we all went to bed. Look

out, Mother, you'll have that tray off.'

He rescued the breakfast-tray and carried it to a table by the

window.

'Was money taken?'

'I tell you I don't know.'

Lady Julia said slowly:

'I suppose this inquiry man is asking everybody questions?'

'I suppose so.'

'Where they were last night? All that kind of thing?'

41

'Probably. Well, I can't tell him much. I went straight up to

bed and was asleep in next to no time.'

Lady Julia did not answer.

'I say, Mother, I suppose you couldn't let me have a spot of

cash. I'm absolutely broke.'

'No, I couldn't,' his mother replied decisively. 'I've got the

most frightful overdraft myself. I don't know what your father

will say when he hears about it.'

There was a tap at the door and Sir George entered.

'Ah, there you are, Reggie. Will you go down to the library?

M. Hercule Poirot wants to see you.'

Poirot had just concluded an interview with the redoubtable

Mrs Macatta.

A few brief questions had elicited the information that Mm

Macatta had gone up to bed just before eleven, and had heard

or seen nothing helpful.

Poirot slid gently from the topic of the burglary to more

personal matters. He himself had a great admiration for Lord

Mayfield. As a member of the general public he felt that Lord

Mayfield was a truly great man. Of course, Mrs Macatta, being

in the know, would have a far better means of estimating that

than himself.

'Lord Mayfield has brains,' allowed Mrs Macatta. 'And he

has carved his career out entirely for himself. He owes nothing

to hereditary influence. He has a certain lack of vision, perhaps.

In that I find all men sadly alike. They lack the breadth of a

woman's imagination. Woman, M. Poirot, is going to be the

great force in government in ten years' time.'

Poirot said that he was sure of it.

He slid to the topic of Mrs Vanderlyn. Was it true, as he had

heard hinted, that she and Lord Mayfield were very dose

friends?

'Not in the least. To tell you the truth I was very surprised

to meet her here. Very surprised indeed.'