Parker Pyne Investigates - Agatha Christie [37]
These matters settled, he withdrew and almost immediately the restaurant man came rushing down the corridor ringing his little bell frantically, and bawling out, ‘Premier service. Premier service.’
Elsie rose, divested herself of the heavy fur coat, took a brief glance at herself in the little mirror, and picking up her handbag and jewel case stepped out into the corridor. She had gone only a few steps when the restaurant man came rushing along on his return journey. To avoid him, Elsie stepped back for a moment into the doorway of the adjoining compartment, which was now empty. As the man passed and she prepared to continue her journey to the dining car, her glance fell idly on the label of a suitcase which was lying on the seat.
It was a stout pigskin case, somewhat worn. On the label were the words: ‘J. Parker Pyne, passenger to Stamboul.’ The suitcase itself bore the initials ‘P.P.’
A startled expression came over the girl’s face. She hesitated a moment in the corridor, then going back to her own compartment she picked up a copy of The Times which she had laid down on the table with some magazines and books.
She ran her eye down the advertisement columns on the front page, but what she was looking for was not there. A slight frown on her face, she made her way to the restaurant car.
The attendant allotted her a seat at a small table already tenanted by one person–the man with whom she had nearly collided in the corridor. In fact, the owner of the pigskin suitcase.
Elsie looked at him without appearing to do so. He seemed very bland, very benevolent, and in some way impossible to explain, delightfully reassuring. He behaved in reserved British fashion, and it was not until the fruit was on the table that he spoke.
‘They keep these places terribly hot,’ he said.
‘I know,’ said Elsie. ‘I wish one could have the window open.’
He gave a rueful smile. ‘Impossible! Every person present except ourselves would protest.’
She gave an answering smile. Neither said any more.
Coffee was brought and the usual indecipherable bill. Having laid some notes upon it, Elsie suddenly took her courage in both hands.
‘Excuse me,’ she murmured. ‘I saw your name upon your suitcase–Parker Pyne. Are you–are you, by any chance–?’
She hesitated and he came quickly to her rescue.
‘I believe I am. That is’–he quoted from the advertisement which Elsie had noticed more than once in The Times, and for which she had searched vainly just now: ‘“Are you happy? If not, consult Mr Parker Pyne.” Yes, I’m that one, all right.’
‘I see,’ said Elsie. ‘How–how extraordinary!’
He shook his head. ‘Not really. Extraordinary from your point of view, but not from mine.’ He smiled reassuringly, then leaned forward. Most of the other diners had left the car. ‘So you are unhappy?’ he said.
‘I–’ began Elsie, and stopped.
‘You would not have said “How extraordinary” otherwise,’ he pointed out.
Elsie was silent for a minute. She felt strangely soothed by the mere presence of Mr Parker Pyne. ‘Ye–es,’ she admitted at last. ‘I am–unhappy. At least, I am worried.’
He nodded sympathetically.
‘You see,’ she continued, ‘a very curious thing has happened–and I don’t know the least what to make of it.’
‘Suppose you tell me about it,’ suggested Mr Pyne.
Elsie thought of the advertisement. She and Edward had often commented on it and laughed. She had never thought that she…perhaps she had better not…if Mr Parker Pyne were a charlatan…but he looked–nice!
Elsie made her decision. Anything to get this worry off her mind.
‘I’ll tell you. I’m going to Constantinople to join my husband. He does a lot of Oriental business, and this year he found it necessary to go there. He went a fortnight ago. He was to get things ready for me to join him. I’ve been very excited at the thought of it. You see, I’ve never been abroad before. We’ve been in England six months.’
‘You and your husband are both American?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you have not, perhaps, been married very long?’
‘We’ve been married a year and a half.’
‘Happily?’
‘Oh, yes! Edward’s a perfect angel.’ She hesitated.