The Labors of Hercules - Agatha Christie [41]
Hercule Poirot said:
“These so-called revelations are to appear in the X-ray News?”
“Yes.”
“What steps do you propose to take about them?”
Ferrier said slowly:
“They constitute a private attack on John Hammett. It is open to him to sue the paper for libel.”
“Will he do that?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Ferrier said:
“It is probable that there is nothing the X-ray News would like better. The publicity given them would be enormous. Their defence would be fair comment and that the statements complained of were true. The whole business would be exhaustively held up to view in a blaze of limelight.”
“Still, if the case went against them, the damages would be extremely heavy.”
Ferrier said slowly: “It might not go against them.”
“Why?”
Sir George said primly: “I really think that—”
But Edward Ferrier was already speaking.
“Because what they intend to print is—the truth.”
A groan burst from Sir George Conway, outraged at such un-Parliamentary frankness. He cried out:
“Edward, my dear fellow. We don’t admit, surely—”
The ghost of a smile passed over Edward Ferrier’s tired face. He said:
“Unfortunately, George, there are times when the stark truth has got to be told. This is one of them.”
Sir George exclaimed:
“You understand, M. Poirot, all this is strictly in confidence. Not one word—”
Ferrier interrupted him. He said:
“M. Poirot understands that.” He went on slowly, “What he may not understand is this: the whole future of the People’s Party is at stake. John Hammett, M. Poirot, was the People’s Party. He stood for what it represents to the people of England—he stood for Decency and Honesty. No one has ever thought us brilliant. We have muddled and blundered. But we have stood for the tradition of doing one’s best—and we have stood, too, for fundamental honesty. Our disaster is this—that the man who was our figurehead, the Honest Man of the People, par excellence—turns out to have been one of the worst crooks of this generation.”
Another groan burst from Sir George.
Poirot asked:
“You knew nothing of all this?”
Again the smile flashed across the weary face. Ferrier said:
“You may not believe me, M. Poirot, but like everyone else, I was completely deceived. I never understood my wife’s curious attitude of reserve towards her father. I understand it now. She knew his essential character.”
He paused and then said:
“When the truth began to leak out, I was horrified, incredulous. We insisted on my father-in-law’s resignation on the grounds of ill-health and we set to work to—to clean up the mess, shall I say?”
Sir George groaned.
“The Augean Stables!”
Poirot started.
Ferrier said:
“It will prove, I fear, too Herculean a task for us. Once the facts become public, there will be a wave of reaction all over the country. The Government will fall. There will be a General Election and in all probability Everhard and his party will be returned to power. You know Everhard’s policy.”
Sir George spluttered.
“A firebrand—a complete firebrand.”
Ferrier said gravely:
“Everhard has ability—but he is reckless, belligerent and utterly tactless. His supporters are inept and vacillating—it would be practically a Dictatorship.”
Hercule Poirot nodded.
Sir George bleated out:
“If only the whole thing can be hushed up. . . .”
Slowly, the Premier shook his head. It was a movement of defeat.
Poirot said:
“You do not believe that it can be hushed up?”
Ferrier said:
“I sent for you, M. Poirot, as a last hope. In my opinion this business is too big, too many people know about it, for it to be successfully concealed. The only two methods open to us which are, to put it bluntly, the use of force, or the adoption of bribery—cannot really hope to succeed. The Home Secretary compared our troubles with the cleansing of the Augean Stables. It needs, M. Poirot, the violence of a river in spate, the disruption of the great natural forces in Nature—nothing less, in fact, than a miracle.”
“It needs, in fact, a Hercules,” said Poirot, nodding his head with a pleased expression.
He added: “My name, remember, is Hercule.