Hercule Poirot's Casebook

'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.

'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 Mayfield went over to it, and began sorting through the various 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.'

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 bewilderment 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?'

'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 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?'

CHAPTER 3

'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...'

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 Vanderlyn, 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.'