Big Four - Agatha Christie [20]
‘Wait for what?’
‘Wait for them to make a move. See now, in England you all comprehend and adore la boxe. If one man does not make a move, the other must, and by permitting the adversary to make the attack one learns something about him. That is our part—to let the other side make the attack.’
‘You think they will?’ I said doubtfully.
‘I have no doubt whatever of it. To begin with, see, they try to get me out of England. That fails. Then, in the Dartmoor affair, we step in and save their victim from the gallows. And yesterday, once again, we interfere with their plans. Assuredly, they will not leave the matter there.’
As I reflected on this, there was a knock on the door. Without waiting for a reply, a man stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He was a tall, thin man, with a slightly hooked nose and a sallow complexion. He wore an overcoat buttoned up to his chin, and a soft hat well pulled down over his eyes.
‘Excuse me, gentlemen, for my somewhat unceremonious entry,’ he said in a soft voice, ‘but my business is of a rather unorthodox nature.’
Smiling, he advanced to the table and sat down by it. I was about to spring up, but Poirot restrained me with a gesture.
‘As you say, monsieur, your entry is somewhat unceremonious. Will you kindly state your business?’
‘My dear M. Poirot, it is very simple. You have been annoying my friends.’
‘In what way?’
‘Come, come, M. Poirot. You do not seriously ask me that? You know as well as I do.’
‘It depends, monsieur, upon who these friends of yours are.’
Without a word, the man drew from his pocket a cigarette case, and, opening it, took out four cigarettes and tossed them on the table. Then he picked them up and returned them to his case, which he replaced in his pocket.
‘Aha!’ said Poirot, ‘so it is like that, is it? And what do your friends suggest?’
‘They suggest, monsieur, that you should employ your talents—your very considerable talents—in the detection of legitimate crime—return to your former avocations, and solve the problems of London society ladies.’
‘A peaceful programme,’ said Poirot. ‘And supposing I do not agree?’
The man made an eloquent gesture.
‘We should regret it, of course, exceedingly,’ he said. ‘So would all the friends and admirers of the great M. Hercule Poirot. But regrets, however poignant, do not bring a man to life again.’
‘Put very delicately,’ said Poirot, nodding his head. ‘And supposing I—accept?’
‘In that case I am empowered to offer you—compensation.’
He drew out a pocketbook, and threw ten notes on the table. They were for ten thousand francs each.
‘That is merely a guarantee of our good faith,’ he said. ‘Ten times that amount will be paid you.’
‘Good God,’ I cried, springing up, ‘you dare to think—’
‘Sit down, Hastings,’ said Poirot autocratically. ‘Subdue your so beautiful and honest nature and sit down. To you, monsieur, I will say this. What is to prevent me ringing up the police and giving you into their custody, whilst my friend here prevents you from escaping?’
‘By all means do so if you think it advisable,’ said our visitor calmly.
‘Oh! look here, Poirot,’ I cried. ‘I can’t stand this. Ring up the police and have done with it.’
Rising swiftly, I strode to the door and stood with my back against it.
‘It seems the obvious course,’ murmured Poirot, as though debating with himself.
‘But you distrust the obvious, eh?’ said our visitor, smiling.
‘Go on, Poirot,’ I urged.
‘It will be your responsibility, mon ami.’
As he lifted the receiver, the man made a sudden, cat-like jump at me. I was ready for him. In another minute we were locked together, staggering round the room. Suddenly I felt him slip and falter. I pressed my advantage. He went down before me. And then, in the very flush of victory, an extraordinary thing happened. I felt myself flying forwards. Head first, I crashed into the wall in a complicated heap. I was up in a minute, but the door was already closing behind my late adversary. I rushed to it and shook it, it was locked on the outside. I