Hercule Poirot's Casebook

had no sense and oceans of money. Old Carrington had been in

munitions. She'd been a widow only six months. Tiffs fellow

snaps her up in no time. She wangled him a job at the War

Office. Colonel Clapperton! Pah!' he snorted.

'And before the war he was on the music hall stage,' mused

Miss Henderson, trying to reconcile the distinguished greyhaired

Colonel Clapperton with a red-nosed comedian singing

,firth-provoking songs.

'Fact!' said General Forbes. 'Heard it from old Bassingron.

ffrench. And he heard it from old Badger Cotterill who'd got it

from Snooks Parker.'

Miss Henderson nodded brightly. 'That does seem to settle

it!' she said.

lA fleeting smile showed for a minute on the face of a small

man sitting near them. Miss Henderson noticed the smile. She

was observant. It had shown appreciation of the

underlying her last remark - irony which the General new

a moment suspected.

The General himself did not notice the smile. He glanced at

his watch, rose and remarked: 'Exercise. Got to keep oneself fit

on a boat,' and passed out through the open door on to the

deck.

Miss Henderson glanced at the man who had smiled. It was a well-bred glance indicating that she was ready to enter '

conversation with a fellow traveller.

'He is energetic - yes?' said the little man.

'He goes round the deck forty-eight times exactly,' said Mis

Henderson. 'What an old gossip! And they say zve are the

scandal-loving sex.'

'What an impoliteness?

'Frenchmen me always polite,' said Miss Henderson

was the nuance of a question in her voice.

The little man responded promptly. 'Beigian,

moiselle.'

'Oh

'Hercule Poirot. At your service.'

The name aroused some memory. Surely she had heard

before -? 'Are you enjoying this trip, M. Poirot?'

'Frankly, no. It was an imbeciliv m allow myself to

persuaded to come. I detest la me. Never does it

tranquil - no, not for a lit-de minute.'

'Well, you admit it's quite calm now.'

M. Poirot admitted this grudgingly. 'A cm,, yes. T

is why I revive. I once more interest myself in what pass'

around me - your very adept handling of the General ForbeL

for instance.'

'You mean -' Miss Henderson paused.

Hcrcule Poirot bowed. 'Your methods of extracting

scandalous matter. Admirable!'

Miss Henderson laughed in an unashamed manner.

touch about the Guards? I knew that would bring

188

-, ..,4.o and asoing.' She leaned forward confidentially.

,Pdmit I liscandal - the more ill-natured, the better.

poirot looked thoughtfully at her - her slim well-preserved figure, her keen dark eyes, her grey hair; a woman of forty-five

who was content to look her age.

Ellie said abruptly: 'I have it! Aren't you the great

detective?' . ·· ,

Poirot bowed. 'You are too tamable, mademotselle. But he.

made no disclaimer.

'How thrilling,' said Miss Henderson. 'Are you "hot on the

trail" as they say in books? Have we a criminal secretly in our

midst? Or am I being indiscreet?'

'Not at all. Not at all. It pains me to disappoint your

expectations, but I am simply here, like everyone else, to amuse

myself.'

He said it in such a gloomy voice that Miss Henderson

laughed.

'0h! Well, you will be able to get ashore tomorrow at

Alexandria. You have been to Egypt before?'

'Never, mademoiselle.'

Miss Henderson rose somewhat abruptly.

'I think I shall join the General on his constitutional,' she

announced.

Poirot sprang politely to his feet.

She gave him a little nod and passed on to the deck.

A faint puzzled look showed for a moment in Poirot's eyes,

then, a little smile creasing his lips, he rose, put his head

through the door mad glanced down the deck. Miss Henderson

was leaning against the rail talking to a tall, soldierly-looking lllall.

Poirot's smile deepened. He drew himself back into the

smoking-room with the same exaggerated care with which a

tortoise withdraws itself into its shell. For the moment he had

the smoking-room to himself, though he rightly conjectured

that that would not last long.

It did not. Mrs Clapperton, her carefully waved platinum

head protected with a net, her massaged and dieted form

dressed in a smart sports suit, came through the door from the

bar with the purposeful air of a woman who has always 13een

able to pay top price for anything she needed.

She said: 'John - ? Oh! Good morning, M. Poirot - have you

seen John?'

'He's on the starboard deck, madame. Shall I - ?'

She arrested him with a gesture. 'I'll sit here a minute.' She

sat down in a regal fashion in the chair opposite him. From the

distance she had looked a possible twenty-eight. Now, in spite

of her exquisitely made-up face, her delicately plucked

eyebrows, she looked not her actual forty-nine years, but a

possible fifty-five. Her eyes were a hard pale blue with tiny

pupils.

'I was sorry not to have seen you at dinner last night,' she

said. 'It was just a shade choppy, of course -' 'Prdabnent,' said Poirot with feeling.

'Luckily, I am an excellent sailor,' said Mrs Clapperton. 'I

say luckily, because, with my weak heart,' seasickness would

probably be the death of me.'

'You have the weak heart, madame?'