Lord Edgware Dies

‘Yes, you’re getting lazy. You just sit here and think! What you call employing the little grey cells. No good, you’ve got to go out to things. They won’t come to you.’

The little maidservant opened the door.

‘Mr Bryan Martin, sir. Are you busy or will you see him?’

‘I’m off, M. Poirot.’ Japp hoisted himself up. ‘All the stars of the theatrical world seem to consult you.’

Poirot shrugged a modest shoulder, and Japp laughed.

‘You must be a millionaire by now, M. Poirot. What do you do with the money? Save it?’

‘Assuredly I practise the thrift. And talking of the disposal of money, how did Lord Edgware dispose of his?’ 

‘Such property as wasn’t entailed he left to his daughter. Five hundred to Miss Carroll. No other bequests. Very simple will.’

‘And it was made-when?’

‘After his wife left him-just over two years ago. He expressly excludes her from participation, by the way.’

‘A vindictive man,’ murmured Poirot to himself.

With a cheerful ‘So long,’ Japp departed.

Bryan Martin entered. He was faultlessly attired and looked extremely handsome. Yet I thought that he looked haggard and not too happy.

‘I am afraid I have been a long time coming, M. Poirot,’ he said apologetically. ‘And, after all, I have been guilty of taking up your time for nothing.’

‘En verite?’

‘Yes. I have seen the lady in question. I’ve argued with her, pleaded with her, but all to no purpose. She won’t hear of my interesting you in the matter. So I’m afraid we’ll have to let the thing drop. I’m very sorry-very sorry to have bothered you-’

‘Du tout-du tout,’ said Poirot genially. ‘I expected this.’

‘Eh?’ The young man seemed taken aback.

‘You expected this?’ he asked in a puzzled way.

‘Mais oui. When you spoke of consulting your friend-I could have predicted that all would have arrived as it has done.’ 

‘You have a theory, then?’

‘A detective, M. Martin, always has a theory. It is expected of him. I do not call it a theory myself. I say that I have a little idea. That is the first stage.’

‘And the second stage?’

‘If the little idea turns out to be right-then I know! It is quite simple, you see.’

‘I wish you’d tell me what your theory-or your little idea-is?’

Poirot shook his head gently.

‘That is another rule. The detective never tells.’

‘Can’t you suggest it even?’

‘No. I will only say that I formed my theory as soon as you mentioned a gold tooth.’

Bryan Martin stared at him.

‘I’m absolutely bewildered,’ he declared. ‘I can’t make out what you are driving at. If you’d just give me a hint.’

Poirot smiled and shook his head.

‘Let us change the subject.’

‘Yes, but first-your fee-you must let me.’

Poirot waved an imperious hand.

‘Pas un sou! I have done nothing to aid you.’

‘I took up your time-’

‘When a case interests me, I do not touch money. Your case interested me very much.’

‘I’m glad,’ said the actor uneasily. 

He looked supremely unhappy.

‘Come,’ said Poirot kindly. ‘Let us talk of something else.’

‘Wasn’t that the Scotland Yard man whom I met on the stairs?’

‘Yes, Inspector Japp.’

‘The light was so dim, I wasn’t sure. By the way, he came round and asked me some questions about that poor girl, Carlotta Adams, who died of an overdose of veronal.’

‘You knew her well-Miss Adams?’

‘Not very well. I knew her as a child in America. I came across her here once or twice but I never saw very much of her. I was very sorry to hear of her death.’

‘You liked her?’

‘Yes. She was extraordinarily easy to talk to.’

‘A personality very sympathetic-yes, I found the same.’

‘I suppose they think it might be suicide? I knew nothing that could help the inspector. Carlotta was always very reserved about herself.’

‘I do not think it was suicide,’ said Poirot.

‘Far more likely to be an accident, I agree.’

There was a pause.

Then Poirot said with a smile:

‘The affair of Lord Edgware’s death becomes intriguing, does it not?’ 

‘Absolutely amazing. Do you know-have they any idea-who did it-now that Jane is definitely out of it?’

‘Mais oui-they have a very strong suspicion.’

Bryan Martin looked excited.

‘Really? Who?’

‘The butler has disappeared. You comprehend-flight is as good as a confession.’

‘The butler! Really, you surprise me.’

‘A singularly good-looking man. Il vous ressemble un peu.’ He bowed in a complimentary fashion.

Of course! I realized now why the butler’s face had struck me as being faintly familiar when I first saw it.

‘You flatter me,’ said Bryan Martin with a laugh.

‘No, no, no. Do not all the young girls, the servant girls, the flappers, the typists, the girls of society, do they not all adore M. Bryan Martin? Is there one who can resist you?’

‘A lot, I should think,’ said Martin. He got up abruptly.

‘Well, thank you very much, M. Poirot. Let me apologize again for having troubled you.’

He shook hands with us both. Suddenly, I noticed he looked much older. The haggard look was more apparent.

I was devoured with curiosity, and as soon as the door closed behind him, I burst out with what I wanted to know.