Poirot’s Early Cases by Agatha Christie

‘I dare say. It’ll have to get on without him. By the way things are going, it’s likely that there’ll be some urgent business down here for him to attend to! Send up the housekeeper, and don’t let either of the Parkers give you and Pollard the slip. Did any of the household come in here this morning?’

The doctor reflected.

‘No, they stood outside in the corridor while Pollard and I came in.’

‘Sure of that?’

‘Absolutely certain.’

The doctor departed on his mission.

‘Good man, that,’ said Japp approvingly. ‘Some of these sporting doctors are first-class fellows. Well, I wonder who shot this chap. It looks like one of the three in the house. I hardly suspect the housekeeper. She’s had eight years to shoot him in if she wanted to. I wonder who these Parkers are? They’re not a prepossessing-looking couple.’

Miss Clegg appeared at this juncture. She was a thin, gaunt woman with neat grey hair parted in the middle, very staid and calm in manner. Nevertheless there was an air of efficiency about her which commanded respect. In answer to Japp’s questions, she explained that she had been with the dead man for fourteen years. He had been a generous and considerate master. She had never seen Mr and Mrs Parker until three days ago, when they arrived unexpectedly to stay. She was of the opinion that they had asked themselves—the master had certainly not seemed pleased to see them. The cuff-links which Japp showed her had not belonged to Mr Protheroe—she was sure of that. Questioned about the pistol, she said that she believed her master had a weapon of that kind. He kept it locked up. She had seen it once some years ago, but could not say whether this was the same one. She had heard no shot last night, but that was not surprising, as it was a big, rambling house, and her rooms and those prepared for the Parkers were at the other end of the building. She did not know what time Mr Protheroe had gone to bed—he was still up when she retired at half past nine. It was not his habit to go at once to bed when he went to his room. Usually he would sit up half the night, reading and smoking. He was a great smoker.

Then Poirot interposed a question:

‘Did your master sleep with his window open or shut, as a rule?’

Miss Clegg considered.

‘It was usually open, at any rate at the top.’

‘Yet now it is closed. Can you explain that?’

‘No, unless he felt a draught and shut it.’

Japp asked her a few more questions and then dismissed her. Next he interviewed the Parkers separately. Mrs Parker was inclined to be hysterical and tearful; Mr Parker was full of bluster and abuse. He denied that the cuff-link was his, but as his wife had previously recognized it, this hardly improved matters for him; and as he had also denied ever having been in Protheroe’s room, Japp considered that he had sufficient evidence to apply for a warrant.

Leaving Pollard in charge, Japp bustled back to the village and got into telephonic communication with headquarters. Poirot and I strolled back to the inn.

‘You’re unusually quiet,’ I said. ‘Doesn’t the case interest you?’

‘Au contraire, it interests me enormously. But it puzzles me also.’

‘The motive is obscure,’ I said thoughtfully, ‘but I’m certain that Parker’s a bad lot. The case against him seems pretty clear but for the lack of motive, and that may come out later.’

‘Nothing struck you as being especially significant, although overlooked by Japp?’

I looked at him curiously.

‘What have you got up your sleeve, Poirot?’

‘What did the dead man have up his sleeve?’

‘Oh, that handkerchief!’

‘Exactly, that handkerchief.’

‘A sailor carries his handkerchief in his sleeve,’ I said thoughtfully.

‘An excellent point, Hastings, though not the one I had in mind.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Yes, over and over again I go back to the smell of cigarette-smoke.’

‘I didn’t smell any,’ I cried wonderingly.

‘No more did I, cher ami.’

I looked earnestly at him. It is so difficult to know when Poirot is pulling one’s leg, but he seemed thoroughly in earnest and was frowning to himself.