Lord Edgware Dies

Following is text to Lucie Adams, dated June 29th, 8 Rosedew Mansions, London, S.W.3. Begins, Dearest little Sister, I’m sorry I wrote such a scrappy bit last week but things were rather busy and there was a lot to see to. Well, darling, it’s been ever such a success! Notices splendid, box office good, and everybody most kind. I’ve got some real good friends over here and next year I’m thinking of taking a theatre for two months. The Russian dancer sketch went very well and the American woman in Paris too, but the Scenes at a Foreign Hotel are still the favourites, I think. I’m so excited that I hardly know what I’m writing, and you’ll see why in a minute, but first I must tell you what people have said. Mr Hergsheimer was ever so kind and he’s going to ask me to lunch to meet Sir Montagu Corner, who might do great things for me. The other night I met Jane Wilkinson and she was ever so sweet about my show and my take off of her, which brings me round to what I am going to tell you. I don’t really like her very much because I’ve been hearing a lot about her lately from someone I know and she’s behaved cruelly, I think, and in a very underhand way-but I won’t go into that now. You know that she really is Lady Edgware? I’ve heard a lot about him too lately, and he’s no beauty, I can tell you. He treated his nephew, the Captain Marsh I have mentioned to you, in the most shameful way-literally turned him out of the house and discontinued his allowance. He told me all about it and I felt awfully sorry for him. He enjoyed my show very much, he said. ‘I believe it would take in Lord Edgware himself. Look here, will you take something on for a bet?’ I laughed and said, ‘How much?’ Lucie darling, the answer fairly took my breath away. Ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand dollars, think of it-just to help someone win a silly bet. ‘Why,’ I said, ‘I’d play a joke on the King in Buckingham Palace and risk lese majeste for that.’ Well, then, we laid our heads together and got down to details.

I’ll tell you all about it next week-whether I’m spotted or not. But anyway, Lucie darling, whether I succeed or fail, I’m to have the ten thousand dollars. Oh! Lucie, little sister, what that’s going to mean to us. No time for more-just going off to do my ‘hoax’. Lots and lots and lots of love, little sister mine.

Yours,

Carlotta.

Poirot laid down the letter. It had touched him, I could see. 

Japp, however, reacted in quite a different way.

‘We’ve got him,’ said Japp exultantly.

‘Yes,’ said Poirot.

His voice sounded strangely flat.

Japp looked at him curiously.

‘What is it, M. Poirot?’

‘Nothing,’ said Poirot. ‘It is not, somehow, just as I thought. That is all.’

He looked acutely unhappy.

‘But still it must be so,’ he said as though to himself. ‘Yes, it must be so.’

‘Of course it is so. Why, you’ve said so all along!’

‘No, no. You misunderstand me.’

‘Didn’t you say there was someone back of all this who got the girl into doing it innocently?’

‘Yes, yes.’

‘Well, what more do you want?’

Poirot sighed and said nothing.

‘You are an odd sort of cove. Nothing ever satisfies you. I say, it was a piece of luck the girl wrote this letter.’

Poirot agreed with more vigour than he had yet shown.

‘Mais oui, that is what the murderer did not expect. When Miss Adams accepted that ten thousand dollars she signed her death warrant. The murderer thought he had taken all precautions-and yet in sheer innocence she outwitted him. The dead speak. Yes, sometimes the dead speak.’

‘I never thought she’d done it off her own bat,’ said Japp unblushingly.

‘No, no,’ said Poirot absently.

‘Well, I must get on with things.’

‘You are going to arrest Captain Marsh-Lord Edgware, I mean?’

‘Why not? The case against him seems proved up to the hilt.’

‘True.’

‘You seem very despondent about it, M. Poirot. The truth is, you like things to be difficult. Here’s your own theory proved and even that does not satisfy you. Can you see any flaw in the evidence we’ve got?’

Poirot shook his head.

‘Whether Miss Marsh was accessory or not, I don’t know,’ said Japp. ‘Seems as though she must have known about it, going there with him from the opera. If she wasn’t, why did he take her? Well, we’ll hear what they’ve both got to say.’

‘May I be present?’

Poirot spoke almost humbly.

‘Certainly you can. I owe the idea to you!’

He picked up the telegram on the table.

I drew Poirot aside.

‘What is the matter, Poirot?’ 

‘I am very unhappy, Hastings. This seems the plain sailing and the above board. But there is something wrong. Somewhere or other, Hastings, there is a fact that escapes us. It all fits together, it is as I imagined it, and yet, my friend, there is something wrong.’

He looked at me piteously.

I was at a loss what to say.

Chapter 21. Ronald’s Story

I found it hard to understand Poirot’s attitude. Surely this was what he had predicted all along?

All the way to Regent Gate, he sat perplexed and frowning, paying no attention to Japp’s self-congratulations.