The Labors of Hercules - Agatha Christie [44]
“Whole lot of ’em tarred with the same brush. Dirty crooks, every one of ’em.”
“You wouldn’t find Everhard doing that. He’s one of the old school.”
“Eh, but I can’t believe as John Hammett was a wrong ’un. You can’t believe all these papers say.”
“Ferrier’s wife was ’is daughter. Have you seen what it says about her?”
They pored over a much thumbed copy of the X-ray News:
Caesar’s wife? We hear that a certain highly placed political lady was seen in very strange surroundings the other day. Complete with her gigolo. Oh Dagmar, Dagmar, how could you be so naughty?
A rustic voice said slowly:
“Mrs. Ferrier’s not that kind. Gigolo? That’s one of these dago skunks.”
Another voice said:
“You never can tell with women. The whole bunch of ’em wrong ’uns if you ask me.”
VI
People were talking.
“But, darling, I believe it’s absolutely true. Naomi had it from Paul and he had it from Andy. She’s absolutely depraved.”
“But she was always so terribly dowdy and proper and opening bazaars.”
“Just camouflage, darling. They say she’s a nymphomaniac. Well, I mean! it’s all in the X-ray News. Oh, not right out, but you can read between the lines. I don’t know how they get hold of these things.”
“What do you think of all this political scandal touch? They say her father embezzled the Party funds.”
VII
People were talking.
“I don’t like to think of it, and that’s a fact, Mrs. Rogers. I mean, I always thought Mrs. Ferrier was a really nice woman.”
“Do you think all these awful things are true?”
“As I say, I don’t like to think it of her. Why, she opened a Bazaar in Pelchester only last June. I was as near to her as I am to that sofa. And she had such a pleasant smile.”
“Yes, but what I say is there’s no smoke without fire.”
“Well, of course that’s true. Oh dear, it seems as though you can’t believe in any one!”
VIII
Edward Ferrier, his face white and strained, said to Poirot:
“These attacks on my wife! They’re scurrilous—absolutely scurrilous! I’m bringing an action against that vile rag.”
Hercule Poirot said: “I do not advise you to do so.”
“But these damned lies have got to be stopped.”
“Are you sure they are lies?”
“God damn you, yes!”
Poirot said, his head held a little on one side:
“What does your wife say?”
For a moment Ferrier looked taken aback.
“She says it is best to take no notice . . . But I can’t do that—everybody is talking.”
Hercule Poirot said: “Yes, everybody is talking.”
IX
And then came the small bald announcement in all the papers.
Mrs. Ferrier has had a slight nervous breakdown. She has gone to Scotland to recuperate.
Conjectures, rumours—positive information that Mrs. Ferrier was not in Scotland, had never been to Scotland.
Stories, scandalous stories, of where Mrs. Ferrier really was. . . .
And again, people talking.
“I tell you Andy saw her. At that frightful place! She was drunk or doped and with an awful Argentine gigolo—Ramon. You know!”
More talking.
Mrs. Ferrier had gone off with an Argentine dancer. She had been seen in Paris, doped. She had been taking drugs for years. She drank like a fish.
Slowly the righteous mind of England, at first unbelieving, had hardened against Mrs. Ferrier. Seemed as though there must be something in it! That wasn’t the sort of woman to be the Prime Minister’s wife. “A Jezebel, that’s what she is, nothing better than a Jezebel!”
And then came the camera records.
Mrs. Ferrier, photographed in Paris—lying back in a night club, her arm twined familiarly over the shoulder of a dark, olive-skinned vicious-looking young man.
Other snapshots—half-naked on a beach—her head on the lounge lizard’s shoulder.
And underneath:
“Mrs. Ferrier has a good time . . .”
Two days later an action for libel was brought against the X-ray News.
X
The case for the prosecution was opened by Sir Mortimer Inglewood, K.C. He was dignified and full of righteous indignation. Mrs. Ferrier was the victim of an infamous plot—a plot only to be equalled by the famous case of the Queen