AgathaChristie-ParkerPineDetective

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by Parker Pyne Detective (lit)


  Claude Luttrell was one of the handsomest specimens

  of lounge lizard to be found in England. Madeleine de

  Sara was the most seductive of vamps.

  Mr. Parker Pyne surveyed them with approval. "My

  children," he said, "I have a job for you. You are going

  to be internationally famous exhibition dancers. Now,

  attend to this carefully, Claude, and mind you get it

  right..."

  Lady Dortheimer was fully satisfied with 'the ar-rangements

  for her ball. She surveyed the floral decora-tions

  and approved, gave a few last orders to the butler,

  and remarked to her husband that so far nothing had

  gone wrong!

  It was a slight disappointment that Michael and

  Juanita, the dancers from the Red Admiral, had been

  unable to fulfill their contract at the last moment, owing

  THE CASE OF THE DISTRESSED LADY

  45

  tO Juanita's spraining her ankle, but instead, two new

  dancers were being sent (so ran the story over the

  telephone) who had created a furor in Paris.

  The dancers duly arrived and Lady Dortheimer approved.

  The evening went splendidly. Jules a-nd Sanchia

  did their turn, and most sensational it was. A wild

  Spanish Revolution dance. Then a dance called the

  Degenerate's Dream. Then an exquisite exhibition of

  modern dancing.

  The "cabaret" over, normal dancing was resumed.

  The handsome Jules requested a dance with Lady Dortheimer.

  They floated away. Never had Lady Dorthei-ruer

  had such a perfect partner.

  Sir Reuben was searching for the seductive Sanchia

  --in vain. She was not in the ballroom.

  She was, as a matter of fact, out in the deserted hall

  near a small box, with her eyes fixed on the jeweled

  watch which she wore round her wrist.

  "You are not Englishmyou cannot be Englishmto

  dance as you do," murmured Jules into Lady Dorthei-mer's

  ear. "You are the sprite, the spirit of the wind.

  Droushcka petrovka navarouchi. "

  "What is that language?"

  "Russian," said Jules mendaciously. "I say something

  to you in Russian that I dare not say in English."

  Lady Dortheimer closed her eyes. Jules pressed her

  closer to him.

  Suddenly the lights went out. In the darkness Jules

  bent and kissed the hand that lay on his shoulder. As she

  made to draw it away, he caught it, raised it to his lips

  again. Somehow, a ring slipped from her finger into his

  hand.

  To Lady Dortheimer it seemed only a second before

  the lights went on again. Jules was smiling at her.

  "Your ring," he said. "It slipped off. You permit?"

  46

  Agatha Christie

  He replaced it on her finger. His eyes said a number of

  things while he was doing it.

  Sir Reuben was talking about the main switch. "Some

  idiot. Practical joke, I suppose."

  Lady Dortheimer was not interested. Those few

  minutes of darkness had been very pleasant.

  Mr. Parker Pyne arrived at his office on Thursday

  morning to find Mrs. St. John already awaiting him.

  "Show her in," said Mr. Pyne.

  "Well?" She was all eagerness.

  "You look pale," he said accusingly.

  She shook her head. "I couldn't sleep last night. I was

  wondering--"

  "Now, here is the little bill for expenses. Train fares,

  costumes, and fifty pounds to Michael and Juanita.

  Sixty-five pounds, seventeen shillings."

  "Yes, yes! But about last night--was it all right? Did

  it happen?"

  Mr. Parker Pyne looked at her in surprise. "My dear

  young lady, naturally it is all right. I took it for granted

  that you understood that."

  "What a relief! I was afraid--"

  Mr. Parker Pyne shook his head reproachfully.

  "Failure is a word not tolerated in this establishment. If

  I do not think I can succeed I refuse to undertake a case.

  If I do take a case, its success is practically a foregone

  conclusion."

  "She's really got her ring back and suspects noth-ing?''

  "Nothing whatever. The operation was most deli-cately

  conducted."

  Daphne St. John sighed. "You don't know the load

  off my mind. What were you saying about expenses?"

  "Sixty-five pounds, seventeen shillings."

  THE CASE OF THE DISTRESSED LADY

  47

  Mrs. St. John opened her bag and 'counted out the

  money. Mr. Parker Pyne thanked her and wrote out a

  receipt.

  "But your fee?" murmured Daphne. "This is only

  for expenses."

  "In this case there is no fee."

  "Oh, Mr. Pyne! I couldn't, reall),!'

  "My dear young lady, I insist. I will not touch a

  penny. It would be against my principles. Here is your

  receipt. And now--"

  With the smile of a happy conjurer bringing off a successful

  trick, he drew a small box from his pocket and

  pushed it across the table. Daphne opened it. Inside, to

  all appearances, lay the identical diamond ring.

  "Brute!" said Mrs. St. John, making a face at it.

  "How I hate you! I've a good mind to throw you out of

  the window."

  "I shouldn't do that," said Mr. Pyne. "It might surprise

  people."

  "You're quite sure it isn't the real one?" said

  Daphne.

  "No, no! The one you showed me the other day is

  safely on Lady Dortheimer's finger."

  "Then that's all right." Daphne rose with a happy

  laugh.

  "Curious your asking me that," said Mr. Parker

  Pyne. "Of course Claude, poor fellow, hasn't many

  brains. He might easily have got muddled. So, to make

  sure, I had an expert look at this thing this morning."

  Mrs. St. John sat down again rather suddenly. "Oh! And he said?"

  "That it was an extraordinarily good imitation," said

  Mr. Parker Pyne, beaming. "First-class work. So that

  sets your mind at rest, doesn't it?"

  Mrs. St. John started to say something, then stopped.

  48

  Agatha Christie

  She was staring at Mr. Parker Pyne.

  The latter resumed his seat behind the desk and

  looked at her benevolently. "The cat who pulled the

  chestnuts out of the fire," he said dreamily. "Not a

  pleasant r61e. Not a rle I should care to have any of my

  staff undertake. Excuse me. Did you say anything?"

  "I--no, nothing."

  "Good. I want to tellyou a little story, Mrs. St. John.

  It concerns a young lady. A fair-haired young lady, I

  think. She is not married. Her name is not St. John. Her

  Christian name is not Daphne. On the contrary, her

  name is Ernestine Richards, and until recently she was

  secretary to Lady Dortheimer.

  "Well, one day the setting of Lady Dortheimer's dia-mond

  ring became loose and Miss Richards brought it

  up to town to have it fixed. Quite like your story here, is

  it not? The same idea occurred to Miss Richards that

  occurred to you. She had the ring copied. But she was a

  farsighted young lady. She saw
a day coming when

  Lady Dortheimer would discover the substitution.

  When that happened, she would remember who had

  taken the ring to town and Miss Richards would be in-stantly

  suspected.

  "So what happened? First, I fancy, Miss Richards in-vested

  in a La Merveilleuse transformation--Number

  Seven side parting, I think"--his eyes rested innocently

  on his client's wavy locks--"shade dark brown. Then

  she called on me. She showed me the ring, allowed me to

  satisfy myself that it was genuine, thereby disarming

  suspicion on my part. That done and a plan of substitu-tion

  arranged, the young lady took the ring to the

  jeweler who in due course returned it to 'Lady Dorthei-ruer.

  "Yesterday evening the other ring, the false ring, was

  THE CASE OF THE DISTRESSED LADY 43

  hurriedly handed over at the last minute at Waterlo,

  Station. Quite rightly, Miss Richards did not conside

  that Mr. Luttrell was likely to be an authority o

  diamonds. But just to satisfy myself that everything wa

  aboveboard I arranged for a friend of mine, a diamon

  merchant, to be on the train. He looked at the ring an,

  pronounced at once, 'This is not a real diamond; it is a:

  excellent paste replica.'

  "You see the point, of course, Mrs. St John? Whe

  Lady Dortheimer discovered her loss, what would sh

  remember? The charming young dancer who slipped th,

  ring off her finger when the lights went out! She woul(

  make inquiries and find that the dancers originall!

  engaged were bribed not to come. If matters were trace

  back to my office, my story of a Mrs. St. John woul¢

  seem feeble in the extreme. Lady Dortheimer neve

  knew a Mrs. St. John. The story would sound a Rims,.

  fabrication.

  "Now you see, don't you, that I could not allow that'

  And so my friend Claude replaced on Lady Dorthei

  ·

  mer's finger the same ring that he took off." Mr

  Parker Pyne's smile was less benevolent now.

  "You see why I could not take a fee? I guarantee t

  give happiness. Clearly I have not made you happy.

  will say just one thing more. You are young; possibl}

  this is your first attempt at anything of the kind. Now I,

  on the contrary, am comparatively advanced in years,

  and I have had a long experience in the compilation oi

  statistics. From that experience I can assure you that ir

  eighty-seven percent of cases dishonesty does not pay

  Eighty-seven percent. Think of it!"

  With a brusque movement the pseudo Mrs. St. Johr

  I

  rose. "You oily old brute!" she said. "Leading me onl

  Making me pay expenses! And all the time--" Sh

  50

  Agatha Christie

  choked, and rushed toward the door.

  "Your ring," said Mr. Parker Pyne, holding it out to

  her.

  She snatched it from him, looked at it and flung it out

  of the open window.

  A door banged and she was gone.

  Mr. Parker Pyne was looking out of the window with

  some interest. "As I thought," he said. "Considerable

  surprise has been created. The gentleman selling Dismal

  Desmonds does not know what to make of it."

  The Case of

  the Discontented Husband

  Undoubtedly one of Mr. Parker Pyne's greatest assets

  was his sympathetic manner. It was a manner that invited

  confidence. He was well acquainted with the kind

  of paralysis that descended on clients as soon as they got

  inside his office. It was Mr. Pyne's task to pave the way

  for the necessary disclosures.

  On this particular morning he sat facing a new client,

  a Mr. Reginald Wade. Mr. Wade, he deduced at once,

  was the inarticulate type. The type that finds it hard to

  put into words anything connected with the emotions.

  He was a tall, broadly built man with mild, pleasant

  blue eyes and a well-tanned complexion. He sat pulling

  absent-mindedly at a little mustache while he looked at

  Mr. Parker Pyne with all the pathos of a dumb animal.

  "Saw your advertisement, you know," he jerked.

  "Thought I might as well come along. Rum sort of

  show, but you never know, what?"

  Mr. Parker Pyne interpreted these cryptic remarks

  correctly. "When things go badly, one is willing to take

  a chance," he suggested.

  51

  52

  Agatha Christie

  chance--any chance. Things are in a bad way with me,

  Mr. Pyne. I don't know what to do about it. Difficult,

  you know; damned difficult."

  "That," said Mr. Pyne, "is where I come in. I do

  know what to do! I am a specialist in every kind of'

  human trouble."

  "Oh, I say--bit of a tall order, that!"

  "Not really. Human troubles are easily classified into

  a few main heads. There is ill health. There is boredom.

  There are wives who are in trouble over their husbands.

  There are husbands"--he paused--"who are in trouble

  over their wives."

  "Matter of fact, you've hit it. You've hit it abso-lutely.''

  "Tell me about it," said Mr. Pyne.

  "There's nothing much to tell. My wife wants me to

  give her a divorce so that she can marry another chap."

  "Very common indeed in these days. Now you, I

  gather, don't see eye to eye with her in this business?"

  "I'm fond of her," said Mr. Wade simply. "You

  see--well, I'm fond of her."

  A simple and somewhat tame statement, but if Mr.

  Wade had said, "I adore her. I worship the ground she

  walks on. I would cut myself into little pieces for her,"

  he could not have been more explicit to Mr. Parker

  Pyne.

  "All the same, you know," went on Mr. Wade,

  "what can I do? I mean, a fellow's so helpless. If she

  prefers this other fellow--well, one's got to play the

  game; stand aside and all that."

  "The proposal is that she should divorce you?"

  "Of course. I couldn't let her be dragged through the

  divorce court."

  Mr. Pyne looked at him thoughtfully. "But you come

  to me? Why?"

  THE CASE OF THE DISCONTENTED HUSBAND 53

  The other laughed in a shamefaced manner. "I don't

  know. You see, I'm not a clever chap. I can't think of

  things. I thought you might--well, suggest something.

  I've got six months, you see. She agreed to that. If at the

  end of six months she is still of the same mind--well,

  then, I get out. I thought you might give me a hint or

  two. At present everything I do annoys her.

  "You see, Mr. Pyne, what it comes to is this: I'm not

  a clever chap! I like knocking balls about. I like a round

  of golf and a good set of tennis. I'm no good at music

  and art and such things. My wife's clever. She likes pictures

  and the opera and concerts, and naturally she gets

  bored with me. This other fellow--nasty longhaired

  chap--he knows all about these things. He can talk

  about them. I can't. In a way, I can understand a clever,

  beautiful woman getting fed up with a
n ass like me."

  Mr. Parker Pyne groaned. "You have been mar-tied--how

  long? . . . Nine years? And I suppose you

  have adopted that attitude from the start. Wrong, my

  dear sir; disastrously wrong! Never adopt an apologetic

  attitude with a woman. She will take you at your own

  valuation--and you deserve it. You should have gloried

  in your athletic prowess. You should have spoken of art

  and music as 'all that nonsense my wife likes.' You

  should have condoled with her on not being able to play

  games better. The humble spirit, my dear sir, is a

  washout in matrimony! No woman can be expected to

  stand up against it. No wonder your wife has been

  unable to last the course."

  Mr. Wade was looking at him in bewilderment.

  "Well," he said, "what do you think I ought to do?"

  "That certainly is the question. Whatever you should

  have done nine years ago, it is too late now. New tactics

  must be adopted. Have you ever had any affairs with

  other women?"

  54

  Agatha Christie

  "Certainly not."

 

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