Hercule Poirot's Casebook

She gave a gasp.

'Oh! what do you mean? You're frightening me - you're

frightening me.'

'Yes,' said Poirot gravely, 'that is my intention.'

She sank down, her face in her hands.

'But I can't! He wouldn't come! Douglas wouldn't, I mean.

She wouldn't let him. She's got hold of him - body and soul.

He won't listen to anything against her... He's crazy about her

... He believes everything she tells him - that her husband ill-treats

her - that she's an injured innocent - that nobody has

ever understood her ... He doesn't even think about me any

more - I don't count - I'm not real to him. He wants me to give

him his fdom - to divorce him. He believes that she'll

divorce her husband and marry him. But I'm afraid ...

Chantry won't give her up. He's'hot that kind of fium. Last

night she showed Douglas braises on her arm - said her

husband had done it. It made Douglas wild..He's so chivalrous

... Oh! I'm afraid! What will come of it all? Tell me what to

do!'

133

Hercule Poirot stood looking straight across the water to the

blue line of hills on the mainland of Asia. He said:

'I have told you. Leave the island before it is too late...' She shook her head.

'I can't - I can't - unless Douglas...'

Poirot sighed.

He shrugged his shoulders.

CHAPTER 4

Hercule Poirot sat with Pamela Lyall on the beach.

She said with a certain amount of gusto, 'The triangle's

going strong! They sat one each side of her last night glowering

at each other! Chantry had had too much to drink.

He was positively insulting to Douglas Gold. Gold behaved

very well. Kept his temper. The Valentine woman enjoyed it,

of course. Purred like the man-eating tiger she is. What do you

think will happen?'

Poirot shook his head.

'I am afraid. I am very much afraid...'

'Oh, we all are,' said Miss Lyall hypocritically. She added,

'This business is rather inyourline. Or it may come to be. Can't

you do anything?'

'I have done what I could.'

Miss Lyall leaned forward eagerly.

'What have you done?' she asked with pleasurable

excitement.

'I advised Mrs Gold to leave the island before it was too late.'

'Oo-er - so you think -' she stopped.

'Yes, mademoiselle?'

'So that's what you think is going to happen!' said Pamela

slowly. 'But he couldn't - he'd never do a thing like that ...

134

He's so nice really. It's all that Chantry woman. He wouldn't He

wouldn't - do '

She stopped - then she said softly:

'Murder? Is that - is that really the word that's in your

mind?'

'It is in someone's mind, mademoiselle. I will tell you that.'

Pamela gave a sudden shiver.

'I don't believe it,' she declared.

CHAPTER5

The sequence of events on the night of October the twenty-ninth

was perfectly clear.

To begin with, there was a scene between the two men Gold

and Chantry. Chantry's voice rose louder and louder and

his last words were overheard by four persons - the cashier at

the desk, the manager, General Barnes and Pamela Lyall.

'You god-damned swine! If you and my wife think you can

put this over on me, you're mistaken! As long as I'm alive, Valentine will remain my wife.'

Then he had flung out of the hotel, his face livid with rage.

That was before dinner. After dinner (how arranged no one

knew) a reconciliation took place. Valentine asked Marjorie

Gold to come out for a moonlight drive. Pamela and Sarah

went with them. Gold and Chantry played billiards together.

Afterwards they joined Hercule Poirot and General Barnes in

the lounge.

For the fn, st time almost, Chantry's face was smiling and

good-tempered.

'Have a good game?' asked the General.

The Commander said:

'This fellow's too good for me! Ran out with a break of forty-six.'

135

Douglas Gold deprecated this modesfiy.

'Pure fluke. I assure you it was. What'll you have? I'll go and

get hold of a waiter.'

'Pink gin for me, thanks.'

'Right. General?'

'Thanks. I'll have a whisky and soda.'

'Same for me. What about you, M. Poirot?'

'You are most amiable. I should like a sirop de cassis.'

'A sirop - excuse me?'

'Sirop de cassis. The syrup of blackcurrants.'

'Oh, a liqueur! I see. I suppose they have it here? I never

heard of it.'

'They have it, yes. But it is not a liqueur.'

Douglas Gold said, laughing:

'Sounds a funny taste to me - but every man his own poison!

I'll go and order them.'

Commander Chantry sat down. Though not by nature a

talkative or a social man, he was clearly doing his best to be

genial.

'Odd how one gets used to doing without any news,' he

remarked.

The General grunted.

'Can't say the Continental Daily Mail four days old is much

use to me. Of course I get The Times sent to me and Punch every

week, but they're a devilish long time in coming.'

'Wonder if we'll have a general election over this Palestine

business?'

'Whole thing's been badly mismanaged,' declared the

General just as Douglas Gold reappeared followed by a walter

with the drinks.

The General had just begun on an anecdote of his military

career in India in the year 1905. The two Englishmen were

listening politely, if without great interest. Hercule Poirot was

sipping his sirop de cassis.

The General reached the point of his narrative and there was