Hercule Poirot's Casebook

Poirot smiled.

'And yet you still in your heart of hearts believe in the evidence (the negative evidence) of your own eyes?'

'You're right, M. Poirot, I do.'

Poirot gave a sudden smile.

'How wise you are.'

Sir George said sharply:

'There were no footprints on the grass edge?'

Poirot nodded.

'Exactly. Lord Mayfield, he fancies he sees a shadow. Then there comes the robbery and he is sure - but sure! It is no longer a fancy - he actually saw the man. But that is not so. Me, I do not concern myself much with footprints and such things but for what it is worth we have that negative evidence. There were no footprints on the grass. It had rained heavily this evening. If a man had crossed the terrace to the grass this evening his footprints would have shown.'

Sir George said, staring: 'But then - but then '

'It brings us back to the house. To the people in the house.'

He broke off as the door opened and Lord Maytield entered with Mr Carlile.

Though still looking very pale and worried, the secretary had regained a certain composure of manner. Adjusting his pincenez he sat down and looked at Poirot inquiringly.

'How long had you been in this room when you heard the scream, monsieur?'

Carlile considered.

'Between five and' ten minutes, I should say.'

'And before that there had been no disturbance of any kind?'

'No.'

'I understand that the house-party had been in one room for the greater part of the evening.'

'Yes, the drawing-room.'

Poirot consulted his notebook.

'Sir George Carrington and his wife. Mrs Macatta. Mrs Vandedyn. Mr Reggie Carrington. Lord Mayfield and your-self. Is that right?'

'I myself was not in the drawing-room. I was working here the greater part of the evening.'

Poirot turned to Lord Mayfield.

'Who went up to bed first?'

'Lady Julia Carrington, I think. As a matter of fact, the three ladies went out together.'

'And then?'

'Mr Carlile came in and I told him to get out the papers as Sir George and I would be along in a minute.'

'It was then that you decided to take a turn on the terrace?'

'It was.'

'Was anything said in Mrs Vanderlyn's hearing as to your working in the study?'

'The matter was mentioned, yes.'

'But she was not in the room when you irtstnacted Mr Carlile to get out the papers?'

'No.'

'Excuse me, Lord Mayfield,' said Carlile. 'Just after you had said that, I collided with her in the doorway. She had come back for a book.'

'So you think she might have overheard?'

'I think it quite possible, yes.'

'She came back for a book,' mused Poirot, 'IDid you fred her her book, Lord Mayfield?'

'Yes, Reggie gave it to her.'

'Ah, yes, it is what you call the old gasp - no,, pardon, the old wheeze - that - to come back for a book. It is; often useful!'

'You think it was deliberate?'

Poirot shrugged his shoulders.

'And after that, you two gentlemen [go outr on the terrace.

And Mrs Vandedyn?'

'She went off with her book.'

'And the young M. Reggie. He went to bectt also?'

'Yes.'

'And Mr Carlile he comes here and smraetirme between five and ten minutes later he heard a scream. Continue, M. Carlile. You heard a scream and you went out into the hall. Ah, perhaps it would be simplest if you reproduced exactly your actions.'

Mr Carlile got up a little awkwardly.

'Here I scream,' said Poirot helpfully. He opened his mouth and emitted a shrill bleat. Lord Mayfield turn his head away to hide a smile and Mr Carlile looked extremely uncomfortable.

'Allez! Forward! March!' cried Poirot. 'It is your cue that I give you there.'

Mr Carlile walked stiffly to the door, opened it and went out.

Poirot followed him. The other two came behind.

'The door, did you close it after you or leave it open?'

'I can't really remember. I think I must have left it open.'

'No matter. Proceed.'

Still with extreme stiffness, ,Mr Carlile walked to the bottom of the staircase and stood there looking up.

Poirot said:

'The maid, you say, was on the stairs. Whereabouts?'

'About half-way up.'

'And she,was looking upset.'

'Definitely so.'

'Eh bien, me, I am the maid.' Poirot ran nimbly up the stairs.

'About here?'

'A step or two higher.'

'Like this?'

Poirot struck an attitude.

'Well - er - not quite like that.'

'How then?'

'Well, she had her hands to her head.'

'Ah, her hands to her lead. That is very interesting. Like this?' Poirot raised his arms, his hands rested on his head just above each ear.

'Yes that's it.'

'Aha! And tell me, M. Carlile, she was a pretty girl - yes?'

'Really, I didn't notice.'

Carlile's voice was repressive.

'Aha, you did not notice? But you are a young man. Does not a young man notice when a girl is pretty?'

'Really, M. Poirot, I can only repeat that I did not do so.)

Carlile cast an agonized glance at his employer. Sir Georg Carrington gave a sudden chuckle.

'M. Poirot seems determined to make you out a gay dog Carlile,' he remarked.

The, I always notice when a girl is pretty,' announced Poiro as he descended the stairs.

The silence with which Mr Carlile greeted this remark was, somewhat pointed. Poirot went on:

'And it was then she told this tale of having seen a ghost?'

'Yes.'

'Did you believe the story?'

'Well, hardly, M. Poirot?

'I do not mean, do you believe in ghosts. I mean, did it strike you that the girl herself really thought she had seen something?'

'Oh, as to that, I couldn't say. She was certainly breathing fast and seemed upset.'

'You did not see or hear anything of her mistress?'

'Yes, as a matter of fact I did. She came out of her room in the gallery above and called, "Leonie."'

'And then?'

'The girl ran up to her and I went back to the study.'

'Whilst you were standing at the foot of tile stairs here, could anyone have entered the study by the door you had left open?'

Carlile shook his head.

'Not without passing me. The study door is at the end of the passage, as you see.'

Poirot nodded thoughtfully. Mr Carlile went on in his careful, precise voice.

'I may say that I am very thankful that Lorel Mayfield actually saw the thief leaving the window. Otherwise I myself should be in a very unpleasant position.'

'Nonsense, my dear Carlile,' broke in Lord Mayfield impatiently. 'No suspicion could possibly attach to you.'

'It is very kind of you to say so, Lord Mayfield, but facts are facts, and I can quite see that it looks badly for me. In any case I hope that my belongings and myself may be searched.'

'Nonsense, my dear fellow,' said Mayfield.

Poirot murmured:

'You are serious in wishing that?'

'I should infinitely prefer it.'

Poirot looked at him thoughtfully for a minute or two and murmured, 'I see.'

Then he asked:

'Where is Mrs Vandedyn's room situated in regard to the study?'

'It is directly over it.'

'With a window looking out over the terrace?'

'Yes.'

Again Poirot nodded. Then he said:

'Let us go to the drawing-room.'

Here he wandered round the room, examined the fastenings of the windows, glanced at the scorers on the bridge table and then finally addressed Lord Mayfield.