'What do you make of it all, Hastings?' 'What do you?' I parried.
'How cautious you become. Never, never will the grey cells function unless you stimulate them. Ah, but I will not tease youl Let us make our deductions together. What points strike us specially as being difficult?' 'There is one thing that strikes me,' I said. 'Why did the man who kidnapped the child go out by the south lodge instead of by the east lodge where no one would see him?' 'That is a very good point, Hastings, an excellent one. I will match it with another. Why warn the Waverlys beforehand? Why not simply kidnap the child and hold him to ransom?' 'BeCause they hoped to get the money without being forced to actiol.'
'Surely it was very unlikely that the money would be paid on a mere threat?' 'Also they wanted to focus attention on twelve o'clock, so that when the tramp man' was seized, the other could emerge from his hiding-place and get away with the child unnoticed.' 'That does not alter the fact that they were making a thing difficult that was perfectly easy. If they do not specify a time or date, nothing would be easier than to wait their chance, and carry off the child in a motor one day when he is out with his nurse.' 'Ye - es,' I admitted doubtfully.
'In fact, there is a deliberate playing of the farce! Now let us approach the question from another side. Everything goes to show that there was an accomplice inside the house. Point number one, the mysterious poisoning of Mrs Waverly. Point number two, the letter pinned to the pillow. Point number three, the putting on of the clock ten minutes - all inside jobs. And an additional fact that you may not have noticed. There was no dust in the priest's hole. It had been swept out with a broom.
'Now then, we have four people in the house. We can exclude the nurse, since she could not have swept out the priest's hole, though she could have attended to the other three points. Four people, Mr and Mrs Waverly, Tredwell, the butler, and Miss Collins. We will take Miss Collins first. We have nothing much against her, except that we know very little about her, that she is obviously an intelligent young woman, and that she has only been here a year.' 'She lied about the dog, you said,' I reminded him.
'Ah, yes, the dog.' Poirot gave a peculiar smile. 'Now let us pass to Tredwell. There are several suspicious facts against him.
For one thing, the tramp declares that it was Tredwell who gave him the parcel in the village.' 'But Tredwell can prove an alibi on that point.' 'Even then, he could have poisoned Mrs Waverly, pinned the note to the pillow, put on the clock, and swept out the priest's hole. On the other hand, he has been born and bred in the service of the Waverlys. It seems unlikely in the last degree that he should connive at the abduction of the son of the house. It is not in the picturel'
'Well, then?'
'We must proceed logically - however absurd it may seem. We will briefly consider Mrs Waverly. But she is rich, the money is hers. It is her money which has restored this impoverished estate.
There would be no reason for her to kidnap her son and pay over her money to herself. Her husband, now, is in a different position.
He has a rich wife. It is not the same thing as being rich himself-in fact I have a little idea that the lady is not very fond of parting with her money, except on a very good pretext. But Mr Waverley, you can see at once, he is bon viveur.'
'Impossible,' I spluttered.
'Not at all. Who sends away the servants? Mr Waverly. He can write the notes, drug his wife, put on the hands of the clock, and establish an excellent alibi for his faithful retainer Tredwell.
Tredwell has never liked Mrs Waverley. He is devoted to his master and is willing to obey his orders implicitly. There were three of them in it. Waverly, Tredwell, and some friend of Waverly. That is the mistake the police made, they made no further inquiries about the man who drove the grey car with the wrong child in it. He was the third man. He picks up a child in a village near by, a boy with flaxen curls. He drives in through the east lodge and passes out through the south lodge just at the right moment, waving his hand and shouting. They cannot see his face or the number of the car, so obviously they cannot see the child's face, either. Then he lays a false trail to London. In the meantime, Tredwell has done his part in arranging for the parcel and note to be delivered by a rough-looking gentleman. His master can provide an alibi in the unlikely case of the man recognizing him, in spite of the false moustache he wore. As for Mr Waverly, as soon as the hullabaloo occurs outside, and the inspector rushes out, he quickly hides the child in the priest's hole, and follows him out. Later in the day, when the inspector is gone and Miss Collins is out of the way, it will be easy enough to drive him off to some safe place in his own car.'
'But what about the dog?' I asked. 'And Miss Collins lying?'
'That was my little joke. I asked her if there were any toy dog in the house, and she said no - but doubtless there are some - in the nurseryl You see, Mr Waverly placed some toys in the priest's hole to keep Johnnie amused and quiet.' 'M. Poirot - ' Mr Waverly entered the room - 'have you discovered anything? Have you any clue to where the boy has been taken?' Poirot handed him a piece of paper. 'Here is the address.' 'But this is a blank sheet.' 'Because I am waiting for you to write it down for me.' 'What the - ' Mr Waverly's face turned purple.
'I know everything, monsieur. I give you twenty-four hours to return the boy. Your ingenuity will be equal to the task of explaining his reappearance. Otherwise, Mrs Waverly will be informed of the exact sequence of events.' Mr Waverly sank down in a chair and buried his face in his hands. 'He is with my old nurse, ten miles away. He is happy and well cared for.' 'I have no doubt of that. If I did not believe you to be a good father at heart, I should not be willing to give you another chance:' 'The scandal ' 'Exactly. Your name is an old and honoured one. Do not jeopardize it again. Good evening, Mr Waverly. Ah, by the way, one word of advice. Always sweep in the cornersl'
Chapter V. The Double Clue
'But above everything - no publicity,' said Mr Marcus Hardman for perhaps the fourteenth time.
The word publicity occurred throughout his conversation with the regularity of a leitmotif. Mr Hardman was a small man, delicately plump, with exquisitely manicured hands and a plaintive tenor voice. In his way, he was somewhat of a celebrity and the fashionable life was his profession. He was rich, but not remarkably so, and he spent his money zealously in the pursuit of social pleasure. His hobby was collecting. He had the collector's soul.
Old lace, old fans, antique jewellery - nothing crude or modem for Marcus Hardman.
Poirot and I, obeying an urgent summons, had arrived to find the little man writhing in an agony of indecision. Under the circumstances, to call in the police was abhorrent to him. On the other hand, not to call them in was to acquiesce in the loss of some of the gems of his collection. He hit upon Poirot as a compromise.
'My rubies, Monsieur Poirot, and the emerald necklace - said to have belonged to Catherine de' Medici. Oh, the emerald necklace?
'If you will recount to me the circumstances of their dis-appearance?' suggested Poirot gently.
'I am endeavouring to do so. Yesterday afternoon I had a little tea party - quite an informal affair, some half a dozen people or so. I have given one or two of them during the season, and though perhaps I should not say so, they have been quite a success. Some good music - Nacora, the pianist, and Katherine Bird, the Austral-ian contralto - in the big studio. Well, early in the afternoon, I was showing my guests my collection of medieval jewels. I keep them in the small wall safe over there. It is arranged like a cabinet inside, with coloured velvet background, to display the stone.
Afterwards we inspected the fans - in that case on the wall. Then we all went to the studio for music. It was not until after everyone had gone that I discovered the safe rifledl I must have failed to shut it properly, and someone had seized the opportunity to denude it of its contents. The rubies, Monsieur Poirot, the emerald necklace - the collection of a lifetimel What would I not give to recover them! But there must be no publicity! You fully understand that, do you not, Monsieur Poirot? My own guests, my personal friends! It would be a horrible scandall'