Hercule Poirot's Casebook

Poirot invited Mrs Macatta's opinion of Mrs Vanderlyn and got it.

'One of those absolutely useless women, M. Poirot. Women

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that make one despair of one's own sex! A parasite, first and last

a parasite.'

Then admired her?'

Then? Mrs Macatta spoke the word with contempt. Then

are always taken in by those very Obvious good looks. That boy,

now, young Reggie Carrington, flushing up every time she

spoke to him, absurdly flattered by being taken notice of by

her. And the silly way she flattered him too. Praising his bridge

- which actually was far from brilliant.'

'He is not a good player?'

'He made all sorts of mistakes last night.'

'Lady Julia is a good player, is she not?'

'Much too good in my opinion,' said Mrs Macatta. 'It's

almost a profession with her. She plays morning, noon, and

night.'

'For high stakes?'

'Yes, indeed, much higher than I would care to play. Indeed

I shouldn't consider it right.'

'She makes a good deal of money at the game?'

Mrs.Macatta gave a loud and virtuous snort.

'She reckons on paying her debts that way. But she's been

having a run of bad luck lately, so I've heard. She looked last

night as though she had something on her mind. The evils of

gambling, M. Po[rot, are only slightly less than the evils caused

by drink. If I had my way this country should be purified -'

Poirot was forced to listen to a somewhat lengthy discussion

on the purification of England's morals. Then he closed the

conversation adroitly and sent for Reggie Carrington.

He summed the young man up carefully as he entered the

room, the weak mouth camouflaged by the rather charming

smile, the indecisive chin, the eyes set far apart, the rather

narrow head. He thought that he knew Reggie Carrington's

type fairly well.

'Mr Reggie Carrington?'

'Yes. Anything I can do?'

'Just tell me what you can about last night?'

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'Well, let me see, we played bridge - in the drawing-room.

After that I went up to bed.'

'That was at what time?'

'Just before eleven. I suppose the robbery took place after

that?'

'Yes, after that. You did not hear or see anything?'

Reggie shook his head regretfully.

'I'm afraid not. I went straight to bed and I sleep pretty

soundly.'

'You went straight up from the drawing-room to your

bedroom and remained there until the morning?'

'That's right.'

'Curious,' said Poirot.

Reggie said sharply:

'What do you mean, curious?'

'You did not, for instance, hear a scream?'

'No, I didn't.'

'Ah, very curious.'

'Look here, I don't know what you mean.'

'You are, perhaps, slightly deaf?.'

'Certainly not.'

Poirot's lips moved. It was possible that he was repeating the

word curious for the third time. Then he said:

'Well, thank you, Mr Carrington, that is all.'

Reggie got up and stood rather irresolutely.

'You know,' he said, 'now you come to mention it, I believe

I did hear something of the kind.'

'Ah, you did hear something?'

'Yes, but you see, I was reading a book - a detective story as

a matter of fact - and I - well, I didn't really quite take it in.? 'Ah,' said Poirot, 'a most satisfying explanation.'

His face was quite impassive.

Reggie still hesitated, then he turned and walked slowly to

the door. There he paused and asked:

'I say, what was stolen?'

'Something of great value, Mr Carfington. That is all I am

at liberty to say.'

'Oh,' said Reggie rather blankly.

He went out.

Poirot nodded his head.

'It fits,' he murmured. 'It fits very nicely.'

He touched a bell and inquired courteously if Mrs Vanderlyn

was up yet.

CHAPTER 7

Mrs Vanderlyn swept into the room looking very handsome.

She was swearing an artfully-cut russet sports-suit that showed

up the warm lights of her hair. She swept to a chair and smiled

in a dazzling fashion at the little man in front of her.

For a moment something showed through the smile. It

might have been triumph, it might almost have been mockery.

It was gone almost immediately, but it had been there. Poirot

found the suggestion of it interesting.

'Burglars? Last night? But how dreadful! Why no, I never

heard a thing. What about the police? Can't they do anything?'

Again, just for a moment, the mockery showed in her eyes.

Hercule Poirot thought:

'It is very clear thatyou are not afraid of the police, my lady.

You know very well that they are not going to be called in.'

And from that followed - what?

He said soberly:

'You comprehend, madame, it is an affair of the most

discreet.'

'Why, naturally, M. - Poirot - isn't it? - I shouldn't dream

of breathing a word. I'm much too great an admirer of dear

Lord Mayfield's to do anything to cause him the least little bit

of worry.'

She crossed her knees. A highly-polished slipper of brown

leather dangled on the tip of her silk-shod foot.

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She smiled, a warm, compelling smile of perfect health and

deep satisfaction.

'Do tell me if there's anything at all I can do?'

'I thank you, madame. You played bridge in the drawing

room last night?'

'Yes.'

'I understand that then all the ladies went up to bed?'

'That is right.'

'But someone came back to fetch a book. That was you, was

it not, Mrs Vanderlyn?'

'I was the first one to come back - yes.'