Poirot's Early Cases - Agatha Christie [34]
‘I don’t believe a word of it,’ declared Mrs Waverly hotly. ‘It’s all a parcel of lies.’
‘En verité, it is a thin story,’ said Poirot reflectively. ‘But so far they have not shaken it. I understand, also, that he made a certain accusation?’
His glance interrogated Mr Waverly. The latter got rather red again.
‘The fellow had the impertinence to pretend that he recognized in Tredwell the man who gave him the parcel. “Only the bloke has shaved off his moustache.” Tredwell, who was born on the estate!’
Poirot smiled a little at the country gentleman’s indignation. ‘Yet you yourself suspect an inmate of the house to have been accessory to the abduction.’
‘Yes, but not Tredwell.’
‘And you, madame?’ asked Poirot, suddenly turning to her.
‘It could not have been Tredwell who gave this tramp the letter and parcel—if anybody ever did, which I don’t believe. It was given him at ten o’clock, he says. At ten o’clock Tredwell was with my husband in the smoking-room.’
‘Were you able to see the face of the man in the car, monsieur? Did it resemble that of Tredwell in any way?’
‘It was too far away for me to see his face.’
‘Has Tredwell a brother, do you know?’
‘He had several, but they are all dead. The last one was killed in the war.’
‘I am not yet clear as to the grounds of Waverly Court. The car was heading for the south lodge. Is there another entrance?’
‘Yes, what we call the east lodge. It can be seen from the other side of the house.’
‘It seems to me strange that nobody saw the car entering the grounds.’
‘There is a right of way through, and access to a small chapel. A good many cars pass through. The man must have stopped the car in a convenient place and run up to the house just as the alarm was given and attention attracted elsewhere.’
‘Unless he was already inside the house,’ mused Poirot. ‘Is there any place where he could have hidden?’
‘Well, we certainly didn’t make a thorough search of the house beforehand. There seemed no need. I suppose he might have hidden himself somewhere, but who would have let him in?’
‘We shall come to that later. One thing at a time—let us be methodical. There is no special hiding-place in the house? Waverly Court is an old place, and there are sometimes “priests’ holes”, as they call them.’
‘By gad, there is a priest’s hole. It opens from one of the panels in the hall.’
‘Near the council chamber?’
‘Just outside the door.’
‘Voilà!’
‘But nobody knows of its existence except my wife and myself.’
‘Tredwell?’
‘Well—he might have heard of it.’
‘Miss Collins?’
‘I have never mentioned it to her.’
Poirot reflected for a minute.
‘Well, monsieur, the next thing is for me to come down to Waverly Court. If I arrive this afternoon, will it suit you?’
‘Oh, as soon as possible, please, Monsieur Poirot!’ cried Mrs Waverly. ‘Read this once more.’
She thrust into his hands the last missive from the enemy which had reached the Waverlys that morning and which had sent her post-haste to Poirot. It gave clever and explicit directions for the paying over of the money, and ended with a threat that the boy’s life would pay for any treachery. It was clear that a love of money warred with the essential mother love of Mrs Waverly, and that the latter was at last gaining the day.
Poirot detained Mrs Waverly for a minute behind her husband.
‘Madame, the truth, if you please. Do you share your husband’s faith in the butler, Tredwell?’
‘I have nothing against him, Monsieur Poirot, I cannot see how he can have been concerned in this, but—well, I have never liked him—never!’
‘One other thing, madame, can you give me the address of the child’s nurse?’
‘149 Netherall Road, Hammersmith. You don’t imagine—’
‘Never do I imagine. Only—I employ the little grey cells. And sometimes, just sometimes, I have a little idea.’
Poirot came back to me as the door closed.
‘So madame has never liked the butler. It is interesting, that, eh, Hastings?’
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