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.
‘Oh! it is not that at all.’ Poirot clicked his tongue with impatience. ‘I want no credit. And what is more, I tell you there will be no credit. It is a fiasco that you prepare for yourself, and I, Hercule Poirot, am the cause.’
Suddenly, at Poirot’s expression of extreme melancholy, Japp shouted with laughter. Poirot looked affronted.
‘Sorry, M. Poirot.’ He wiped his eyes. ‘But you did look for all the world like a dying duck in a thunder storm. Now look here, let’s forget all this. I’m willing to shoulder the credit or the blame of this affair. It will make a big noise – you’re right there. Well, I’m going all out to get a conviction. It may be that a clever Counsel will get his lordship off – you never know with a jury. But even so, it won’t do me any harm. It will be known that we caught the right man even if we couldn’t get a conviction. And if, by any chance, the third housemaid has hysterics and owns up she did it – well, I’ll take my medicine and I won’t complain you led me up the garden. That’s fair enough.’
Poirot gazed at him mildly and sadly.
‘You have the confidence – always the confidence! You never stop and say to yourself – can it be so? You never doubt – or wonder. You never think: This is too easy!’
‘You bet your life I don’t. And that’s just where, if you’ll excuse me saying so, you go off the rails every time. Why shouldn’t a thing be easy? What’s the harm in a thing being easy?’
Poirot looked at him, sighed, half threw up his arms, then shook his head.
‘C’est fini! I will say no more.’
‘Splendid,’ said Japp heartily. ‘Now let’s get down to brass tacks. You’d like to hear what I’ve been doing?’
‘Assuredly.’
‘Well, I saw the Honourable Geraldine, and her story tallied exactly with his lordship’s. They may both be in it together, but I think not. It’s my opinion he bluffed her – she’s three parts sweet on him anyway. Took on terribly when she found he was arrested.’
‘Did she now? And the secretary – Miss Carroll?’
‘Wasn’t too surprised, I fancy. However, that’s only my idea.’
‘What about the pearls?’ I asked. ‘Was that part of the story true?’
‘Absolutely. He raised the money on them early the following morning. But I don’t think that touches the main argument. As I see it, the plan came into his head when he came across his cousin at the opera. It came to him in a flash. He was desperate – here was a way out. I fancy he’d been meditating something of the kind – that’s why he had the key with him. I don’t believe that story of suddenly coming across it. Well, as he talks to his cousin, he sees that by involving her he gains additional security for himself. He plays on her feelings, hints at the pearls, she plays up, and off they go. As soon as she’s in the house he follows her in and goes along to the library. Maybe his lordship has dozed off in his chair. Anyway, in two seconds he’s done the trick and he’s out again. I don’t fancy he meant the girl to catch him in the house. He counted on being found pacing up and down near the taxi. And I don’t think the taxi-man was meant to see him go in. The impression was to be that he was walking up and down smoking whilst he waited for the girl. The taxi was facing the opposite direction, remember.