Hercule Poirot's Casebook

'Let's start at once. Thank goodness your hat's on your head.

Oh, gracious - your passport isn't in the cabin, is it?'

'As a matter of fact it's in my pocket -' began the Col,)nel.

Kitty squeezed his arm. 'Glory be!' she exclaimed. '?;ow,

come on.'

Leaning over the rail, Poirot watched the three of them ieave

the ship. He heard a faint intake of brea/h beside him and

turned to see Miss Henderson. Her eyes were fastened on the

three retreating figures.

'So they've gone ashore,' she said flatly.

'Yes. Are you going?'

She had a shade hat, he noticed, and a smart bag and shoes.

There was a shore-going appearance about her. Nevertheless

after the most infinitesimal of pauses, she shook her head.

'No,' she said. 'I think I'll stay on board. I have a lot of letters

to write.'

She turned and left him.

Puff'rog after his morning tour of forty-eight rounds of the

deck, General Forbes took her place. 'Aha!' he exclaimed as his

eyes noted the retreating figures of the Colonel and the two

girls. 'So that's the game! Where's the Madam?'

Poirot explained that Mrs Clapperton was having a quiet

day in bed.

'Don't you believe it!' the old warrior closed one knowing

eye. 'She'll be up for tiffin - and if the poor devil's found to be

absent without leave, there'll be ructions.'

But the General's prognostications were not fulfilled, b rs

Clapperton did not appear at lunch and by the time the Colocl

and his attendant damsels returned to the ship at four o'cl. ,

she had not shown herself.

Poirot was in his cabin and heard the husband's slighi'

guilty knock on his cabin door. Heard the knock repeated, ti.s

cabin door tried, and finally heard the Colonel's call to ,2

steward.

'Look here, I can't get an answer. Have you a key?'

196

poirot rose quickly from his bunk and came out into the

passage.

The news went like wildfire round the ship. With horrified

incredulity people heard that Mrs Clapperton had been found

dead in her bunk - a native dagger driven through her heart. A

string of amber beads was found on the floor of her cabin.

Rumour succeeded mmour. All bead sellers who had been

allowed on board that day were being rounded up and

questioned! A large sum in cash had disap from a drawer

in the cabin! The notes had been traced! They had not been

traced! Jewe!lery worth a fortune had been taken! No jewellery

had been taken at all! A steward had been arrested and had

confessed to the murder!

'What is the truth of it all?' demanded Miss Ellie Henderson

waylaying Poirot. Her face was pale and troubled.

'My dear lady, how should I know?'

'

you know' said Miss Henderson.

Of course ,

.

.

It was late in the evening. Most people had retired to.thetr

cabins. Miss Henderson led Poirot to a couple of deck chairs on

the sheltered side of the ship. 'Now tell me,' she commanded.

Poirot surveyed her thoughtfully. 'It's an interesting case,'

he said.

'Is it true that she had some very valuable iewellery stolen?'

Poirot shook his head. 'No. No jewellery was taken. A small

amount of loose cash that was in a drawer has disappeared,

though.'

'I'll never feel safe on a ship again,' said Miss Henderson

with a shiver. 'Any clue as to which of those coffee-coloured

brutes did it?'

'No,' said Hercule Poirot. 'The whole thing is rather strange.'

'What do you mean?' asked Eilie sharply.

Poirot spread out his hands. *Eh bien - take the facts. Mrs

CJapperton had been dead at least five hours when she was

found. Some money had disappeared. A string of beads was on

the floor by her bed. The door was locked and the key was

197

missing. The window - w/ndow, not port-hole - gives on the

deck and was open.'

'Well?' asked the woman impatiently.

'Do you not think it is curious for a murder to be committed

under those particular circumstances? Remember that the

postcard sellers, money changers and bead sellers who are

allowed on board are all well known to the police.'

'The stewards usually lock your cabin, all the same,' Ellie

pointed out.

'Yes, to prevent any chance of petty pilfering. But this - was

murder.

'What exactly are you thinking of, M. Poirot?' Her voice

sounded a little breathless.

'I am thinking of the locked door.'

Miss Henderson considered this. 'I don't see anything in

that. The man left by the door, locked it and took the key with

him so as to avoid having the murder discovered too soon.

Quite intelligent of him, for it wasn't discovered until four

o'clock in the afternoon.'

'No, no, mademoiselle, you don't appreciate the point I'm

trying to make. I'm not worried as to how he got out, but as to

how he got in.'

'The window of course.'

'C'est possible. But it would be a very narrow fit - and there

were people passing up and down the deck all the time,

remember.'

'Then through the door,' said Miss Henderson impatieiy.

'But you forget, mademoiselle. Mrs Clapperton had locke, ht

door on the inside. She had done so before Colonel Clappe. :n

left the boat this morning. He actually tried it- so we know that

is SO.'

Nonsense. It probably stuck - or he didn't turn the handle

properly.'

'But it does not rest on his word. We actually heard ;4rs