Poirot's Early Cases - Christie Agatha - Страница 26

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'Convincing Inspector Millerl What an animal, thatl Both obstinate and imbecile. And in the end he took all the credit?

'Too bad,' I cried.

'Ah, well, I had my compensations. The other director of the Burma Mines Ltd awarded me fourteen thousand shares as a small recompense for my services. Not so bad, eh? But when investing money, keep, I beg of you, Hastings, strictly to the conservative. The things you. read in the paper, they may not be true. The directors of the Porcupine - they may be so many Mr Pearsons!'

Alee Simpson, RN, stepped from the platform at Newton Abbot into a first-class compartment of the Plymouth Express. A porter followed him with a heavy suitcase. He was about to swing it up to the rack, but the young sailor stopped him.

'No - leave it on the seat. I'll put it up later. Here you are.' 'Thank you, sir.' The porter, generously tipped, withdrew.

Doors banged; a stentorian voice shouted: 'Plymouth only.

Change for Torquay. Plymouth next stop.' Then a whistle blew, and the train drew slowly out of the station.

Lieutenant Simpson had the carriage to himself. The December air was chilly, and he pulled up the window. Then he sniffed vaguely, and frowned. What a smell there wasl Reminded him of that time in hospital, and the operation on his leg. Yes, chloroform; that was it!

He let the window down again, changing his seat to one with its back to the engine. He pulled a pipe out of his pocket and lit it.

For a little time he sat inactive, looking out into the night and smoking.

At last he roused himself, and opening the suitcase, took out some papers and magazines, then closed the suitcase again and endeavoured to shove it under the opposite seat - without success.

Some hidden obstacle resisted it. He shoved harder with rising impatience, but it still stuck out half-way into the carriage.

'Why the devil won't it go in?' he muttered, and hauling it out completely, he stooped down and peered under the seat o o.

A moment later a cry rang out into the night, and the great train came to an unwilling halt in obedience to the imperative jerking of the communication cord.

'Mon ami,' said Poirot, 'you have, I know, been deeply inter106 ested in this mystery of the Plymouth Express. Read this.'

I picked up the note he flicked across the table to me. It was brief and to the point.

Dear Sir,

I shall be obliged if you will call upon me at your earliest convenience.

Yours faithfully,

EBENEZER HALLIDAY

The connection was not clear to my mind, and I looked in-quiringly at Poirot.

For answer he took up the newspaper and read alohd: '"A sensational discovery was made last night. A young naval officer returning to Plymouth found under the seat of his compartment the body of a woman, stabbed through the heart. The officer at once pulled the communication cord, and the train was brought to a Standstill. The woman, who was about thirty years of age, and richly dressed, has not yet been identified."

'And later we have this: "The woman found dead in tl,e Plymouth Express has been identified as the Honourable Mrs Rupert Carrington." You see now, my friend? Or if you do not, I will add this - Mrs Rupert Carrington was, before her marriage, Flossie Halliday, daughter of old man Halliday, the steel king of America.'

'And he has sent for you? Splendidl'

'I did him a little service in the past - an affair of bearer bonds.

And once, when I was in Paris for a royal visit, I had Mademoiselle Flossie pointed out to me. Lajolie petite pensionnairel She had the joli dot too! It caused trouble. She nearly made a bad affair.' 'How was that?'

'A certain Count de la Rochefour. Un bien tnauvais sujet! A bad hat, as you would say. An adventurer pure and simple, who knew how to appeal to a romantic young girl. Luckily her father got wind cfi it in time. He took her back to America in haste. I heard of her marriage some years later, but I know nothing of her husband.'

'H'm,' I said. 'The Honourable Rupert Carrington is no beauty, by all accounts. He'd pretty well run through his own money on the turf, and I should imagine old man Halliday's dollars came along in the nick of time. I should say that for a good-looking, well-mannered, utterly unscrupulous young scoundrel, it would be hard to find his match?

'Ah, the poor little lady! Elle n'est pas bien tombde!' 'I fancy he made it pretty obvious at once that it was her money, snd not she, that had attracted him. I believe they drifted apart almost at once. I have heard turnouts lately that there was to be a definite legal separation.' 'Old man Halliday is no fool. He would tie up her money pretty tight.' 'I dare say. Anyway, I know as a fact that the Honourable Rupert is said to be extremely hard-up.' 'Aha! I wonder ' 'You wonder what?' 'My good friend, do not jump down my throat like that. You are interested, I see. Supposing you accompany me to see Mr Halliday. There is a taxi-stand at the corner.'

A few minutes sufficed to whirl us to the superb house in Park Lane rented by the American magnate. We were shown into the library, and almost immediately we were joined by a large, stout man, with piercing eyes and an aggressive chin.

'M. Poirot?' said Mr Halliday. 'I guess I don't need to tell you what I want you for. You've read the papers, and I'm never one to let the grass grow under my feet. I happened to hear you were in London, and I remembered the good work you did over those bonds. Never forget a name. I've got the pick of Scotland Yard, but I'll have my own man as well. Money no object. All the dollars were made for my little girl - and now she's gone, I'll spend my last cent to catch the damned scoundrel that did it! See? So it's up to you to deliver the goods.' Poirot bowed.

'I accept, monsieur, all the more willingly that I saw your daughter in Paris several times. And now I will ask you to tell me the circumstances of her journey to Plymouth and any other detaih that seem to you to bear upon the case.'

'Well, to begin with,' responded Halliday, 'she wasn't going to Plymouth. She was going to join a house-party at Avonmead Court, the Duchess of Swansea's place. She left London by the twelve-fourteen from Paddington, arriving at Bristol (where she had to change) at two-fifty. The principal Plymouth expresses, of course, run via Westbury, and do not go near Bristol at all. The twelve-fourteen does a non-stop run to Bristol, afterwards stopping at Weston, Taunton, Exeter and Newton Abbot. My daughter travelled alone in her carriage, which was reserved as far as Bristol, her maid being in a third-class carriage in the next coach.' Poirot nodded, and Mr Halliday went on: 'The party at Avon-mead Court was to be a very gay one, with several balls, and in consequence my daughter had with her nearly all her jewels amounting in value, perhaps, to about a hundred thousand dollars.' 'Un moment,' interrupted Poirot. 'Who had charge of the jewels?

Your daughter, or the maid?' 'My daughter always took charge of them herself, carrying them in a small blue morocco case.' 'Continue, monsieur.' 'At Bristol the maid, Jane Mason, collected her mistress's dressing-bag and wraps, which were with her, and came to the door of Flossie's compartment. To her intense surprise, my daughter told her that she was not getting out at Bristol, but wa going on farther. She directed Mason to get out the luggage and put it in the cloakroom. She could have tea in the refreshment-room, but she was to wait at the station for her mistress, who would return to Bristol by an up-train in the course of the afternoon.

The maid, although very much astonished, did as she wa told. She put the luggage in the cloakroom and had some tea.

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