Lord Edgware Dies

‘Yes,’ said Poirot quietly. ‘She is dead.’

Ronald turned his eyes from one to the other of us. He had been debonair before. Now his face had whitened. His eyes looked frightened.

‘I don’t understand all this,’ he said. ‘It’s true what I told you. I suppose you don’t believe me-any of you.’

And then, to my amazement, Poirot stepped forward.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I believe you.’

Chapter 22. Strange Behaviour of Hercule Poirot

We were in our rooms.

‘What on earth-’ I began.

Poirot stopped me with a gesture more extravagant than any gesture I had ever seen him make. Both arms whirled in the air.

‘I implore you, Hastings! Not now. Not now.’

And upon that he seized his hat, clapped it on his head as though he had never heard of order and method, and rushed headlong from the room. He had not returned when, about an hour later, Japp appeared.

‘Little man gone out?’ he inquired.

I nodded.

Japp sank into a seat. He dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief. The day was warm.

‘What the devil took him?’ he inquired. ‘I can tell you, Captain Hastings, you could have knocked me down with a feather when he stepped up to the man and said: “I believe you.” For all the world as though he were acting in a romantic melodrama. It beats me.’

It beat me also, and I said so.

‘And then he marches out of the house,’ said Japp.

‘What did he say about it to you?’

‘Nothing,’ I replied.

‘Nothing at all?’

‘Absolutely nothing. When I was going to speak to him he waved me aside. I thought it best to leave him alone. When we got back here I started to question him. He waved his arms, seized his hat and rushed out again.’

We looked at each other. Japp tapped his forehead significantly.

‘Must be,’ he said.

For once I was disposed to agree. Japp had often suggested before that Poirot was what he called ‘touched’. In those cases he had simply not understood what Poirot was driving at. Here, I was forced to confess, I could not understand Poirot’s attitude. If not touched, he was, at any rate, suspiciously changeable. Here was his own private theory triumphantly confirmed and straight away he went back on it.

It was enough to dismay and distress his warmest supporters. I shook my head in a discouraged fashion.

‘He’s always been what I call peculiar,’ said Japp. ‘Got his own particular angle of looking at things-and a very queer one it is. He’s a kind of genius, I admit that. But they always say that geniuses are very near the border line and liable to slip over any minute. He’s always been fond of having things difficult. A straightforward case is never good enough for him. No, it’s got to be tortuous. He’s got away from real life. He plays a game of his own. It’s like an old lady playing at patience. If it doesn’t come out, she cheats. Well, it’s the other way round with him. If it’s coming out too easily, he cheats to make it more difficult! That’s the way I look at it.’

I found it difficult to answer him. I, also, found Poirot’s behaviour unaccountable. And since I was very attached to my strange little friend, it worried me more than I cared to express.

In the middle of a gloomy silence, Poirot walked into the room.

He was, I was thankful to see, quite calm now.

Very carefully he removed his hat, placed it with his stick on the table, and sat down in his accustomed chair.

‘So you are here, my good Japp. I am glad. It was on my mind that I must see you as soon as possible.’

Japp looked at him without replying. He saw that this was only the beginning. He waited for Poirot to explain himself. 

This my friend did, speaking slowly and carefully.

‘Ecoutez, Japp. We are wrong. We are all wrong. It is grievous to admit it, but we have made a mistake.’

‘That’s all right,’ said Japp confidently.

‘But it is not all right. It is deplorable. It grieves me to the heart.’

‘You needn’t be grieved about that young man. He richly deserves all he gets.’

‘It is not he I am grieving about-it is you.’

‘Me? You needn’t worry about me.’

‘But I do. See you, who was it set you on this course? It was Hercule Poirot. Mais oui, I set you on the trail. I direct your attention to Carlotta Adams, I mention to you the matter of the letter to America. Every step of the way it is I who point it!’

‘I was bound to get there anyway,’ said Japp coldly. ‘You got a bit ahead of me, that’s all.’

‘Cela ce peut. But it does not console me. If harm-if loss of prestige comes to you through listening to my little ideas-I shall blame myself bitterly.’

Japp merely looked amused. I think he credited Poirot with motives that were none too pure. He fancied that Poirot grudged him the credit resulting from the successful elucidation of the affair.

‘That’s all right,’ he said. ‘I shan’t forget to let it be known that I owe something to you over this business.’ 

He winked at me.