He was silent for a moment, then said quietly: 'She died just a week later. Mademoiselle Virginie passed through her novitiate, and duly took the veil. That, my friend, is the story. I must admit that I do not make a fine figure in it.' 'But that was hardly a failure,' I expostulated. 'What else could you have thought under the circumstances?' 'Ah, sacra, rnon ami,' cried Poirot, becoming suddenly animated.
'Is it that you do not see? But I was thirty-six times an idiotl My grey cells, they functioned not at all. The whole time I had the true clue in my hands.' 'What clue?' 'The chocolate boxl Do you not see? Would anyone in possession of their full eyesight make such a mistake? I knew Madame Droulard had cataract - the atropine drops told me that. There was only one person in the household whose eyesight was such that she could not see which lid to replace. It was the chocolate box that started me on the track, and yet up to the end I failed consistently to perceive its real significancel 'Also my psychology was at fault. Had M. de Saint Alard been the criminal, he would never have kept an incriminating bottle.
Finding it was a proof of his innocence. I had learned already from Mademoiselle Virginie that he was absent-minded. Altogether it was a miserable affair that I have recounted to you there! Only to you have I told the story. You comprehend, I do not figure well in it! An old lady commits a crime in such a simple and clever fashion that I, Hercule Poirot, am completely deceived. $apristi! It does not bear thinking of! Forget it. Or no - remember it, and if you think at any time that I am growing conceited - it is not likely, but it might arise.' I concealed a smile.
'Eh bien, my friend, you shall say to me, "Chocolate box". Is it agreed?' 'It's a bargainl' 'After all,' said Poirot reflectively, 'it was an experience! I, who have undoubtedly the finest brain in Europe at present, can afford to be magnanimousl' 'Chocolate box,' I murmured gently.
'Pardon, mon ami?'
I looked at Poirot's innocent face, as he bent forward inquiringly, and my heart smote me. I had suffered often at his hands, but I, too, though not possessing the finest brain in Europe, could afford to be magnanimous!
'Nothing,' I lied, and lit another pipe, smiling to myself.
Chapter XI. The Submarine Plans
A note had been brought by special messenger. Poirot read it, and a gleam of excitement and interest came into his eyes as he did so.
He dismissed the man with a few curt words and then turned to me.
'Pack a bag with all haste, my friend. We're going down to Sharpies.'
I started at the mention of the famous country place of Lord Alloway. Head of the newly formed Ministry of Defence, Lord Alloway was a prominent member of the Cabinet. As Sir Ralph Curtis, head of a great engineering firm, he had made his mark in the House of Commons, and he was now freely spoken of as the coming man, and the one most likely to be asked to form a ministry should the turnouts as to Mr David MacAdam's health prove well founded.
A big Rolls-Royce car was waiting for us below, and as we glided off into the darkness, I plied Poirot with questions.
'What on earth can they want us for at this time of night?' I demanded. It was past eleven.
Poirot shook his head. 'Something of the most urgent, without doubt.'
'I remember,' I said, 'that some years ago there was some rather ugly scandal about Ralph Curtis, as he then was - some jugglery with shares, I believe. In the end, he was completely exonerated; but perhaps something of the kind has arisen again?'
'It would hardly be necessary for him to send for me in the middle of the night, my friend.'
I was forced to agree, and the remainder of the journey was passed in silence. Once out of London, the powerful car forged rapidly ahead, and we arrived at Sharples in a little under the hour.
A pontifical butler conducted us at once to a small study where Lord Alloway was awaiting us. He sprang up to greet us - a tall,
spare man who seemed actually to radiate power and vitality.
'M. Poirot, I am delighted to see you. It is the second time the Government has demanded your services. I remember only too well what you did for us during the war, when the Prime Mini-ster was kidnapped in that astounding fashion. Your masterly deductions - and may I add, your discretion? - saved the situ-ation.'
Poirot's eyes twinkled a little.
'Do I gather then, milor', that this is another case for - dis-cretion?'
'Most emphatically. Sir Harry and I - oh, let me introduce you - Admiral Sir Harry Weardale, our First Sea Lord - M. Poirot and - let me see, Captain - '
'Hastings,' I supplied.
'I've often heard of you, M. Poirot,' said Sir Harry, shaking hands. 'This is a most unaccountable business, and if you can solve it, we'll be extremely grateful to you.'
I liked the First Sea Lord immediately, a square, bluff sailor of the good old-fashioned type.
Poirot looked inquiringly at them both, and Alloway took up the tale.
'Of course, you understand that all this is in confidence, M.
Poirot. We have had a most serious loss. The plans of the new g type of submarine have been stolen.'
'When was that?'
'Tonight - less than three hours ago. You can appreciate perhaps, M. Poirot,,.the magnitude of the disaster. It is essential that the loss should not be made public. I will give you the facts as briefly as possible. My guests over the week-end were the Admiral, here, his wife and son, and a Mrs Conrad, a lady well known in London society. The ladies retired to bed early - about ten o'clock; so did Mr Leonard Weardale. Sir Harry is down here partly for the purpose of discussing the construction of this new type of submarine with me. Accordingly, I asked Mr Fitzroy, my secretary, to get out the plans from the safe in the corner there, and to arrange them ready for me, as well as various other documents that bore upon the subject in hand. While he was doing this, the
Admiral and I strolled up and down the terrace, smoking cigars and enjoying the warm June air. We finished our smoke and our chat, and decided to get down to business. Just as we turned at the far end of the terrace, I fancied I saw a shadow slip out of the french window here, cross the terrace, and disappear. I paid very little attention, however. I knew Fitzroy to be in this room, and it never entered my head that anything might be amiss. There, of course, I am to blame. Well, we retraced our steps along the terrace and entered this room by the window just as Fitzroy entered it from the hall.
' "Got everything out we are likely to need, Fitzroy?" I asked.
' "I think so, Lord Alloway. The papers are all on your desk," he answered. And then he wished us both goodnight.
' "Just wait a minute," I said, going to the desk. "I may want something I haven't mentioned."
'I looked quickly through the papers that were lying there.
' "You've forgotten the most important of the lot, Fitzroy," I said. "The actual plans of the submarine!"
' "The plans are right on top, Lord Alloway."
' "Oh no, they're not," I said, turning over the papers.
' "But I put them there not a minute ago?' ' "Well, they're not here now," I said.
'Fitzroy advanced with a bewildered expression on his face.
The thing seemed incredible. We turned over the papers on the desk; we hunted through the safe; but at last we had to make up our minds to it'that the papers were gone - and gone within the short space of about three minutes while Fitzroy was absent from the room.'
'Why did he leave the room?' asked Poirot quickly.
'Just what I asked him,' exclaimed Sir Harry.
'It appears,' said Lord Alloway, 'that just when he had finished arranging the papers on my desk, he was startled by hearing a woman scream. He dashed out into the hall. On the stairs he discovered Mrs Conrad's French maid. The girl looked very white and upset, and declared that she had seen a ghost - a tall figure dressed all in white that moved without a sound. Fitzroy laughed at her fears and told her, in more or less polite language, not to be a fool. Then he returned to this room just as we entered from the window.' 'It all seems very clear,' said Poirot thoughtfully. 'The only question is, was the maid an accomplice? Did she scream by arrangement with her confederate lurking outside, or was he merely waiting there in the hope of an opportunity presenting itself? It was a man, I suppose - not a woman you saw?' 'I can't tell you, M. Poirot. It was just a - shadow.' The Admiral gave such a peculiar snort that it could not fail to attract attention.