The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories

"Ugh," she shivered, "you give me the creeps." He said gently:

"It was you who telephoned me, was it not?" "Yes." "Why?"

"I don't know. I was worried and--frightened without knowing quite why I was frightened Bar-ton told me he was having this party to com-memorate Iris' death. I realized he had some scheme on--but he wouldn't tell me what it was. He looked so--so queer and so excited that I felt something terrible might happen--only of course I never dreamed that he meant to--to get rid of me."

"And so, Mademoiselle?"

"I'd heard people talking about you. I thought if I could only get you here perhaps it would stop anything happening. I thought that being foreigner--if I rang up and pretended to be in danger and--and made it sound mysterious--"

"You thought the melodrama, it would attract me? That is what puzzled me. The message itself --definitely it was what you call 'bogus'--it did not ring true. But the fear in the voice--that was. real. Then I came--and you denied very cate-gorically having sent me a message." 124

Agatha Christie

"I had to. Besides, I didn't want you to know it was me."

"Ah, but I was fairly sure of that! Not at first. But I soon realized that the only two people Who could know about the yellow irises on the table

were you or Mr. Barton Russell."

Pauline nodded.

"I heard him ordering them to be put on the table," she explained. "That, and his ordering a table for six when I knew only five were coming, made me suspectw''

She stopped, biting her lip.

"What did you suspect, Mademoiselle?"

She said slowly: "I was afraid--of something haPpening-..to Mr. Carter."

Stephen Carter cleared his throat. Unhurrielly

but quite decisively he rose from the table.

"Er--h'm--I have to--er--thank you, IMr'

Poirot. I owe you a great deal. You'll excuse

I'm sure, if I leave you. Tonight's happenings

have beenwrather upsetting."

Looking after his retreating figure, Pauline Said

violently:

"I hate him. I've always thought it was because of him that Iris killed herself. Or perhaps

--Barton killed her. Oh, it's all so hateful ,,

Poirot said gently:

"Forget, Mademoiselle.. · forget Let the

past go

Think only of the present "

Pauline murmured, "Yes--you're right ',

Poirot turned to Lola Valdez.

"Sefiora, as the evening advances I become more brave. If you would dance with me

"Oh, yes, indeed. You are--you are ze cat's

YELLOq

whilers, M. Poirot. I ioseest on dancing witla yo ,, ,,' ora." ¥ou are too kind, Sei left. They leant towar6s

)ny and Pauline were

eac,!ther across the table'

: , barling Pauline." .,c a nasty spiteful spit " )h, Tony, I've been s.v Can you ever forgiW

r little cat to you all d rile'?,, · ,, . : j)e

again. Let's dance."

&ngel! Thssuru,:no at each other and

· they danced off, smi

nuntaing softly:

T .........Love for making here s nothing lli(.o yOU .miser. a.b?Love for making There's notlfing tike

you blue

Depressed

Possessed

Sentimental

Temperamen. tal . Love

ho re r;i tt hy ':ug ok ft

Love for driving

There's nothing like

you crazy Love for making

There's nothing like you mad

Abusive

Allusive

Suicidal Homicidal owe There's nothing like Love ....

There's nothing like

Miss Marple

Tells a Story

I don't think I've ever told you, rny dears--you, Raymond, and you, Joan, about rather curious little business that happened some years ago now. I don't want to seem vain in any Way-of course I know that in comparison with yoa young people. I'm not clever at all--Raymond w rites those very

modern books all about rather un. pleasant young

men and women--and Joan paint those very remarkable pictures of square peOPle with curious bulges on themmvery clever of yoh, my dear, but as Raymond always says (only qhite kindly, because he is the kindest of nephews) I am hopelessly Victorian. I admire Mr. Alma-Tdema and Mr. Frederic Leighton and I suppose to you they seem hopelessly vieux jeu. Now let me ee, what was I saying? Oh, yes--that I didn't Want to appear vain--but I couldn't help being just a teeny weeny

129

130 Agatha Christie

bit pleased with myself, because, just by applying a little common sense, I believe I really did solve a problem that had baffled cleverer heads than mine. Though really I should have thought the whole thing was obvious from the beginning ....

Well, I'll tell you my little story, and if you

think I'm inclined to be conceited about it, you

must remember that I did at least help a fellow creature who was in very grave distress.

The first I knew of this business was one eve-ning about nine o'clock when Gwen--(you member Gwen? My little maid with red hair) well --Gwen came in and told me that Mr. Petherick and a gentleman had called to see me. Gwen had showed them into the drawing-room--quite rightly. I was sitting in the dining-room because in early spring I think it is so wasteful to have two fires going.