of her feelings. Conversation languished, and might have
ceased altogether but for the latter.
Mrs Macatta was a woman of great earnestness of purpose.
Mrs Vanderlyn she dismissed immediately as a useless and
parasitic type. Lady Julia she tried to interest in a forthcoming
charity entertainment which she was organizing. Lady Julia
answered vaguely, stifled a yawn or two and retired into her
own inner preoccupation. Why didn't Charles and George
come? How tiresome men were. Her comments became even
more perfunctory as she became absorbed in her (;wn thoughts
and worries.
The three women were sitting in silence when the men
finally entered the room.
Lord Mayfield thought to himself:
12
'Julia looks ill tonight. What a mass of nerves the woman is.'
Aloud he said:
'What about a rubber - eh?'
Lady Julia brightened at once. Bridge was as the breath of
life to her.
Reggie Carrington entered the room at that minute, and a
four was arranged. Lady Julia, Mrs Vanderlyn, Sir George and
young Reggie sat down to the card-table. Lord Mayfield
devoted himself to the task of entertaining Mrs Macatta.
When two rubbers had been played, Sir George looked
ostentatiously at the clock on the mantelpiece.
'Hardly worth while beginning another,' he remarked.
His wife looked annoyed.
'It's only a quarter to eleven. A short one.'
'They never are, my dear,' said Sir George good
temperedly.
'Anyway, Charles and I have some work to do.'
Mrs Vanderlyn murmured:
'How important that sounds! I suppose you clever men who
are at the top of things never get a real rest.'
'No forty-eight hour week for us,' said Sir George.
Mrs Vanderlyn murmured:
'You know, I feel rather ashamed of myself as a raw
American, but I do get so thrilled at meeting people who
control the destinies of a country. I expect that seems a very
crude point of view to you, Sir George.'
'My dear Mrs Vanderlyn, I should never think of you as
"crude" or "raw." '
He smiled into her eyes. There was, perhaps, a hint of irony
in the voice which she did not miss. Adroifiy she turned to
Reggie, smiling sweetly into his eyes.
'I'm sorry we're not continuing our partnership. That was a
frightfully clever four no-trump call of yours.'
Flushed and pleased, Reggie mumbled:
'Bit of a fluke that it came off.'
'Oh, no, it was really a clever bit of deduction on your part.
You'd deduced from the bidding exactly where the cards must
be, and you played accordingly. I thought it was brilliant.'
13
Lady Julia rose abruptly.
'The woman lays it on with a palette-knife,' she thought
disgustedly.
Then her eyes softened as they rested on her son. He
believed it all. How pathetically young and pleased he looked.
How incredibly niive he was. No wonder he got into scrapes.
He was too trusting. The truth of it was he had too sweet a
nature. George didn't tmderstand him in the least. Men were
so unsympathetic in their judgments. They forgot that they
had even been young themselves. George was much too harsh
with Reggie.
Mrs Macatta had risen. Goodnights were said.
The three women went out of the room. Lord Mayfield
helped himself to a drink after giving one to Sir George, then
he looked up as Mr Carlile appeared at the door.
'Get out the fries and all the papers, will you, Catlile?
Including the plans and the prints. The Air Marshal and I will
be along shortly. We'll just take a turn outside first, eh,
George? It's stopped raining.'
Mr Carlile, turning to depart, murmured an apology as he
almost collided with Mrs Vanderlyn.
She drifted towards them, murmuring:
'My book, I was reading it before dinner.'
Reggie sprang for'ward and held up a book.
'Is this it? On the sofa?'
'Oh, yes. Thank You so much.'
She smiled sweetly, said goodnight again andwent out of the
room.
Sir George had olaened one of the french windows.
'Beautiful night now,' he announced. 'Good idea of yours to
take a turn.'
Reggie said:
'Well, goodnight, sir. I'll be toddling off to bed.'
'Goodnight, my boy,' said Lord Mayfield.
Reggie picked uD a detective story which he had begun
earlier in the evening and left the room.
Lord Mayfield anl Sir George stepped out upon the terrace.
14
It was a beautiful night, with a clear sky studded with stars.
Sir George drew a deep breath.
'Phew, that woman uses a lot of scent,' he remarked.
Lord Mayfield laughed.
'Anyway, it's not cheap scent. One of the most expensive
brands on the market, I should say.'
Sir George gave a grimace.
'I suppose one should be thankful for that.'
'You should, indeed. I think a woman smothered in cheap
scent is one of the greatest abominations known to manldnd.'
Sir George glanced up at the sky.
'Extraordinary the way it's cleared. I heard the rain beating
down when we were at dinner.'
The two men strolled gently along the terrace.
The terrace ran the whole length of the house. Below it the
ground sloped gently away, permitting a magnificent view over
the Sussex weald.
Sir George lit a cigar.
'About this metal alloy -' he began.
The talk became technical.
As they approached the far end of the terrace for the fifth
time, Lord Mayfield said with a sigh:
'Oh, well, I suppose we'd better get down to it.'
'Yes, good bit of work to get through.'
The two men turned, and Lord Mayfield uttered a surprised
ejaculation.
'Hallo! See that?'
'See what?' asked Sir George.
'Thought I saw someone slip across the terrace from my
study window.'
'Nonsense, old boy. I didn't see anything.'
'Well, I did - or I thought I did.'
'Your eyes are playing nicks on you. I was looking straight
down the terrace, and I'd have seen anything there was to be
seen. There's precious little I don't see - even if I do have to
hold a newspaper at arm's length.'
Lord Mayfield chuckled.
15.
'I can put one over on you there, George. I read easily
without glasses.'
'But you can't always distinguish the fellow on the other side
of the House. Or is that eyeglass of yours sheer intimidation?'
Laughing, the two men entered Lord Mayfield's study, the
french window of which was open.
Mr Carlile was busy arranging some papers in a file by the
safe.
He looked up as they entered.
'Ha, Carlile, everything ready?'
'Yes, Lord Mayfield, all the papers are on your desk.'
The desk in question was a big important-looking wfiting-table
of mahogany set across a corner by the window. Lord
documents laid out.
'Lovely night now,' said Sir George.
Mr Carlile agreed.
'Yes, indeed. Remarkable the way it's cleared up after the
rain.'
Putting away his f'fle, Mr Carlile asked:
'Will you want me any more tonight, Lord Mayfield?'
'No, I don't think so, Carlile. I'll put all these away myself.
We shall probably be late. You'd better mm in.'
'Thank you. Goodnight, Lord Mayfield. Goodnight, Sir
George.'
'Goodnight, Carlile.'
As the secretary was about to leave the room, Lord Mayfield
said sharply:
'Just a minute, Carlile. You've forgotten the most important
of the lot.'
'I beg your pardon, Lord Mayfield.'
'The actual plans of the bomber, man.'
The secretary stared.
'They're fight on the top, sir.' 'They're nothing of the sort.'
'But I've just put them there.'
'Look for yourself, man.'
16
With a bewildered expression, the young man came forward
and joined Lord Mayfield at the desk.
Somewhat impatiently the Minister indicated the pile of
papers. Carlile sorted through them, his expression of bewil-derment
growing.
'You see, they're not there.'
The secretary stammered:
'But - but it's incredible. I laid them there not three minutes
ago.'
Lord Mayfield said good-humouredly:
'You must have made a mistake, they must be still in the
safe.'
'I don't see how - I know I put them there?
Lord Mayfield brushed past him to the open safe. Sir
George joined them. A very few minutes sufficed to show that
the plans of the bomber were not there.
Dazed and unbelieving, the three men returned to the desk
and once more turned over the papers.
'My God!' said Mayfield. 'They're gone!'
Mr Carlile cried:
'But it's impossible!'
'Who's been in this room?' snapped out the Minister.
'No one. No one at all.'
'Look here, Carlile, those plans haven't vanished into thin
air. Someone has taken them. Has Mrs Vanderlyn been in
here?'
'Mrs Vanderlyn? Oh, no, sir.'
'I'll back that,' said Carrington. He sniffed the air! 'You'd
soon smell if she had. That scent of hers.'
'Nobody has been in here,' insisted Carlile. 'I can't under-stand
it.'
'Look here, Carlile,' said Lord Mayfield. 'Pull yourself
together. We've got to get to the bottom of this. You're
absolutely sure the plans were in the safe?'
'Absolutely.'
'You actually saw them? You didn't just assume they were
among the others?'
17
'No, no, Lord Mayfield. I saw them. I put them on top of the
others on the desk.'
'And since then, you say, nobody has been in the room. Have
you been out of the room?'
'No - at least - yes.'
'Ah!' cried Sir George. 'Now we're getting at it!'
Lord Mayfield said sharply:
'What on earth -' when Carlile interrupted.
'In the normal course of events, Lord Mayfield, I should
not, of course, have dreamt of leaving the room when
important papers were lying about, but hearing a woman
scream '
'A woman scream?' ejaculated Lord Mayfield in a surprised
voice.
'Yes, Lord Mayfield. It startled me more than I can say. I
was just laying the papers on the desk when I heard it, and
naturally I ran out into the hall.'
'Who screamed?'
'Mrs Vanderlyn's French maid. She was standing halfway
up the stairs, looking very white and upset and shaking all over.
She said she had seen a ghost.'
'Seen a ghost?'
'Yes, a tall woman dressed all in white who moved without
a sound and floated in the air.'
'What a ridiculous story!'
'Yes, Lord Mayfield, that is what I told her. I must say she
seemed rather ashamed of herself. She went off upstairs and I
came back in here.'
'How long ago was this?'
'Just a minute or two before you and Sir George came in.'
'And you were out of the room - how long?'
The secretary considered.
'Two minutes - at the most three.'
'Long enough,' groaned Lord Mayfield. Suddenly he
clutched his friend's arm.
'George, that shadow I saw - slinking away from this
18
window. That was it! As soon as Carlile left the room, he
nipped in, seized the plans and made off.'
'Dirty work,' said Sir George.
Then he seized his friend by the arm.
'Look here, Charles, this is the devil of a business. What the
hell are we going to do about it?'
CHAPTER3
'At any rate give it a trial, Charles.'
It was half an hour later. The two men were in Lord
Mayfield's study, and Sir George had been expending a
considerable amount of persuasion to induce his friend to adopt
a certain course.
Lord Mayfield, at first most unwilling, was gradually
becoming less averse to the idea.
Sir George went on:
'Don't be so damned pig-headed, Charles.'
Lord Mayfield said slowly:
'Why drag in a wretched foreigner we know nothing about?'
'But I happen to know a lot about him. The man's a marvel.'
'Humph.'
'Look here, Charles. It's a chance! Discretion is the essence
of this business. If it leaks out '
'When it leaks out is what you mean!'
'Not necessarily. This man, Hercule Poirot '
'Will come down here and produce the plans like a conjurer
taking rabbits out of his hat, I suppose?'
'He'll get at the truth. And the truth is what we want. Look
here, Charles, I take all responsibility on myself.'
Lord Mayfield said slowly:
'Oh, well, have it your own way, but I don't see what the
fellow can do...'
19
Sir George picked up the phone.
'I'm going to get through to him - now.'
'He'll be in bed.'
'He can get up. Dash it all, Charles, you can't let that woman
get away with it.'
'Mrs Vandcrlyn, you mean?'
'Yes. You don't doubt, do you, that she's at the bottom of
this?'
'No, I don't. She's turned the tables on me with a vengeance.
I don't like admitting, George, that a woman's been too clever
for us. It goes against the grain. But it's true. We shan't be able
to prove anything against her, and yet we both know that she's
been the prime mover in the affair.'
'Women are the devil,' said Carrington with feeling.
'Nothing to connect her with it, damn it all! We may believe
that she put the girl up to that screaming trick, and that the man
lurking outside was her accomplice, but the devil of it is we
can't prove it.'
'Perhaps Hercule Poirot can.'
Suddenly Lord Mayfield laughed.
'By the Lord, George, I thought you were too much of an old
John Bull to put
your trust in a Frenchman, however clever.'
'He's not even a Frenchman, he's a Belgian,' said Sir George
in a rather shamefaced manner.
'Well, have your Belgian down. Let him try his wits on this
business. I'll bet he can't make more of it than we can.'
Without replying, Sir George stretched a hand to the telephone.
CHAPTER 4
Blinking a little, Hercule Poirot turned his head from one man
to the other. Very delicately he smothered a yawn.
20
It was half-past two in the morning. He had been roused
from sleep and rushed down through the darkness in a big
Rolls Royce. Now he had just f'mished hearing what the two
men had to tell him.
'Those are the facts, M. Poirot,' said Lord Mayfield.
He leaned back in his chair, and slowly f'med his monocle in
one eye. Through it a shrewd, pale-blue eye watched Poirot
attentively. Besides being shrewd the eye was def'mitely
sceptical. Poirot cast a swift glance at Sir George Carrington.
That gentleman was leaning forward with an expression of
almost childlike hopefulness on his face.
Poirot said slowly:
'I have the facts, yes. The maid screams, the secretary goes
out, the nameless watcher comes in, the plans are there on top
of the desk, he snatches them up and goes. The facts - they are
all very convenient.'
Something in the way he uttered the last phrase seemed to
AgathaChristie-HerculePoirotsCasebook Page 2