Death in the Clouds - Agatha Christie [74]
The others looked at him politely, if with, perhaps, a rather perfunctory interest.
Fournier thought:
‘I see now what the Englishman, Japp, meant. He makes difficulties, this old one. He tries to make an affair which is now simple sound complicated. He cannot accept a straightforward solution without pretending that it squares with his preconceived ideas.’
Jane thought:
‘I don’t see in the least what he means…Why couldn’t the girl be on the plane? She had to go wherever Lady Horbury wanted her to go…I think he’s rather a mountebank, really…’
Suddenly Poirot drew in his breath with a hiss.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘It is a possibility; and it ought to be very simple to find out.’
He rose.
‘What now, my friend?’ asked Fournier.
‘Again the telephone,’ said Poirot.
‘The transatlantic to Quebec?’
‘This time it is merely a call to London.’
‘To Scotland Yard?’
‘No, to Lord Horbury’s house in Grosvenor Square. If only I have the good fortune to find Lady Horbury at home.’
‘Be careful, my friend. If any suspicion gets round to Anne Morisot that we have been making inquiries about her it would not suit our affairs. Above all, we must not put her upon her guard.’
‘Have no fears. I will be discreet. I ask only one little question—a question of a most harmless nature.’ He smiled. ‘You shall come with me if you like.’
‘No, no.’
‘But yes. I insist.’
The two men went off, leaving Jane in the lounge.
It took some little time to put the call through; but Poirot’s luck was in. Lady Horbury was lunching at home.
‘Good. Will you tell Lady Horbury that it is M. Hercule Poirot speaking from Paris.’ There was a pause. ‘That is you, Lady Horbury? No, no, all is well. I assure you all is well. It is not that matter at all. I want you to answer me a question. Yes…When you go from Paris to England by air does your maid usually go with you, or does she go by train? By train…And so on that particular occasion…I see…You are sure? Ah, she has left you. I see. She left you very suddenly at a moment’s notice. Mais oui, base ingratitude. It is too true. A most ungrateful class! Yes, yes, exactly. No, no, you need not worry. Au revoir. Thank you.’
He replaced the receiver and turned to Fournier, his eyes green and shining.
‘Listen, my friend, Lady Horbury’s maid usually travelled by train and boat. On the occasion of Giselle’s murder Lady Horbury decided at the last moment that Madeleine had better go by air, too.’
He took the Frenchman by the arm.
‘Quick, my friend,’ he said. ‘We must go to her hotel. If my little idea is correct—and I think it is—there is no time to be lost.’
Fournier stared at him. But before he could frame a question Poirot had turned away and was heading for the revolving doors leading out of the hotel.
Fournier hastened after him.
‘But I do not understand. What is all this?’
The commissionaire was holding open the door of a taxi. Poirot jumped in and gave the address of Anne Morisot’s hotel.
‘And drive quickly, but quickly!’
Fournier jumped in after him.
‘What fly is this that has bitten you? Why this mad rush—this haste?’
‘Because, my friend, if, as I say, my little idea is correct—Anne Morisot is in imminent danger.’
‘You think so?’
Fournier could not help a sceptical tone creeping into his voice.
‘I am afraid,’ said Poirot. ‘Afraid. Bon Dieu—how this taxi crawls!’
The taxi at the moment was doing a good forty miles an hour and cutting in and out of traffic with a miraculous immunity due to the excellent eye of the driver.
‘It crawls to such an extent that we shall have an accident in a minute,’ said Fournier drily. ‘And Mademoiselle Grey, we have left her planted there awaiting our return from the telephone, and instead we leave the hotel without a word. It is not very polite, that!’
‘Politeness or impoliteness—what does it matter in an affair of life and death?’
‘Life or death?’ Fournier shrugged his shoulders.
He thought to himself:
‘It is all