Hercule Poirot's Casebook

You'd deduced from the bidding exactly where the cards must

be, and you played accordingly. I thought it was brilliant.'

13

Lady Julia rose abruptly.

'The woman lays it on with a palette-knife,' she thought

disgustedly.

Then her eyes softened as they rested on her son. He

believed it all. How pathetically young and pleased he looked.

How incredibly niive he was. No wonder he got into scrapes.

He was too trusting. The truth of it was he had too sweet a

nature. George didn't tmderstand him in the least. Men were

so unsympathetic in their judgments. They forgot that they

had even been young themselves. George was much too harsh

with Reggie.

Mrs Macatta had risen. Goodnights were said.

The three women went out of the room. Lord Mayfield

helped himself to a drink after giving one to Sir George, then

he looked up as Mr Carlile appeared at the door.

'Get out the fries and all the papers, will you, Catlile?

Including the plans and the prints. The Air Marshal and I will

be along shortly. We'll just take a turn outside first, eh,

George? It's stopped raining.'

Mr Carlile, turning to depart, murmured an apology as he

almost collided with Mrs Vanderlyn.

She drifted towards them, murmuring:

'My book, I was reading it before dinner.'

Reggie sprang for'ward and held up a book.

'Is this it? On the sofa?'

'Oh, yes. Thank You so much.'

She smiled sweetly, said goodnight again andwent out of the

room.

Sir George had olaened one of the french windows.

'Beautiful night now,' he announced. 'Good idea of yours to

take a turn.'

Reggie said:

'Well, goodnight, sir. I'll be toddling off to bed.'

'Goodnight, my boy,' said Lord Mayfield.

Reggie picked uD a detective story which he had begun

earlier in the evening and left the room.

Lord Mayfield anl Sir George stepped out upon the terrace.

14

It was a beautiful night, with a clear sky studded with stars.

Sir George drew a deep breath.

'Phew, that woman uses a lot of scent,' he remarked.

Lord Mayfield laughed.

'Anyway, it's not cheap scent. One of the most expensive

brands on the market, I should say.'

Sir George gave a grimace.

'I suppose one should be thankful for that.'

'You should, indeed. I think a woman smothered in cheap

scent is one of the greatest abominations known to manldnd.'

Sir George glanced up at the sky.

'Extraordinary the way it's cleared. I heard the rain beating

down when we were at dinner.'

The two men strolled gently along the terrace.

The terrace ran the whole length of the house. Below it the

ground sloped gently away, permitting a magnificent view over

the Sussex weald.

Sir George lit a cigar.

'About this metal alloy -' he began.

The talk became technical.

As they approached the far end of the terrace for the fifth

time, Lord Mayfield said with a sigh:

'Oh, well, I suppose we'd better get down to it.'

'Yes, good bit of work to get through.'

The two men turned, and Lord Mayfield uttered a surprised

ejaculation.

'Hallo! See that?'

'See what?' asked Sir George.

'Thought I saw someone slip across the terrace from my

study window.'

'Nonsense, old boy. I didn't see anything.'

'Well, I did - or I thought I did.'

'Your eyes are playing nicks on you. I was looking straight

down the terrace, and I'd have seen anything there was to be

seen. There's precious little I don't see - even if I do have to

hold a newspaper at arm's length.'

Lord Mayfield chuckled.

15.

'I can put one over on you there, George. I read easily

without glasses.'

'But you can't always distinguish the fellow on the other side

of the House. Or is that eyeglass of yours sheer intimidation?'

Laughing, the two men entered Lord Mayfield's study, the

french window of which was open.

Mr Carlile was busy arranging some papers in a file by the

safe.

He looked up as they entered.

'Ha, Carlile, everything ready?'

'Yes, Lord Mayfield, all the papers are on your desk.'

The desk in question was a big important-looking wfiting-table

of mahogany set across a corner by the window. Lord

Mayfield went over to it, and began sorting through the various

documents laid out.

'Lovely night now,' said Sir George.

Mr Carlile agreed.

'Yes, indeed. Remarkable the way it's cleared up after the

rain.'

Putting away his f'fle, Mr Carlile asked:

'Will you want me any more tonight, Lord Mayfield?'

'No, I don't think so, Carlile. I'll put all these away myself.

We shall probably be late. You'd better mm in.'

'Thank you. Goodnight, Lord Mayfield. Goodnight, Sir

George.'

'Goodnight, Carlile.'

As the secretary was about to leave the room, Lord Mayfield

said sharply:

'Just a minute, Carlile. You've forgotten the most important

of the lot.'

'I beg your pardon, Lord Mayfield.'

'The actual plans of the bomber, man.'

The secretary stared.

'They're fight on the top, sir.' 'They're nothing of the sort.'

'But I've just put them there.'

'Look for yourself, man.'

16

With a bewildered expression, the young man came forward

and joined Lord Mayfield at the desk.

Somewhat impatiently the Minister indicated the pile of

papers. Carlile sorted through them, his expression of bewil-derment

growing.

'You see, they're not there.'

The secretary stammered: