Read Mrs McGinty's Dead / the Labours of Hercules (Agatha Christie Collected Works) Page 20

right when she was found, bitt there was a pair of shoes on the line, a

  signalman found them. Took'em home with him, as they seemed in good

  condition. Stout black laced walking-shoes."

  "Ah," said Poirot. He looked gratified.

  Insi.)ector Hearn said curiously, "I don't get the meaning of the shoes,

  sir? Do they mean anything?"

  "They confirm a theory," said Hercule Poirot. "A theory of how the

  conjuring trick was done."

  Miss Pope's establishment was, like many other establishnietits of the

  same kind, situated in Neuilly. Hercule

  Poirot, staring up at its respectable fasade, was suddenly submerged by

  a flow of girls emerging from its portals.

  He counted twenty-five of them, all dressed alike in dark blue coats and

  skirts with uncomfortable looking British hats of dark blue velour on

  their heads, round which was tied the distinctive purple and gold of

  Miss Pope's choice.

  They were of ages varying from fourteen to eighteen, thick and thin,

  fair and dark, awkward and graceful. At the end, walking with one of

  the younger girls, was a gray-haired, fussy-looking woman whom Poirot

  judged to be Miss Burshaw.

  Poirot stood looking after them a minute, then he rang the bell and

  asked for Miss Pope.

  Miss Lavinia Pope was a very different person from her second in

  command, Miss Burshaw. Miss Pope had personality. Miss Popq was

  awe-inspiring. Even should Miss Pope unbend graciously to parents, she

  would still retain that obvious superiority to the rest of the world

  which is such a powerful asset to a schoolmistress.

  Her gray hair was dressed with distinction, her costume was rather

  severe but chic. She was competent and omniscient.

  The room in which she received Poirot was the room of a woman of

  culture. It had graceful furniture, flowers, some framed signed

  photographs of those of Miss Pope's pupils who were of note in the

  world-many of them in their presentation gowns and feathers. On the

  walls hung reproductions of the world's artistic masterpieces and some

  good water-color sketches. The whole place was clean and polished to

  the last degree. No speck of dust, one felt, would have the temerity to

  deposit itself in such a shrine.

  Miss Pope received Poirot with the competence of one whose judgment

  seldom fails.

  "M. Hercule Poirot? I know your name, of course. I suppose you have

  come about this very unfortunate affair of Winnie King. A most

  distressing incident."

  Miss Pope did not look distressed. She took disaster as it should be

  taken, dealing with it competently and thereby reducing it almost to

  insignificance.

  "Such a thing," said Miss Pope, "has never occurred before."

  And ney)er will again! her manner seemed to say.

  Hercule Poirot said, "It was the girl's first term here, was it not?"

  "It was."

  "You had had a preliminary interview with Winnieand with her parents?"

  "Not recently. Two years ago, I was staying near Cranchester-with the

  Bishop, as a matter of fact-"

  Miss Pope's manner said, Mark this, ' please. I am the kind of pet-son

  who stays with bishops!

  "While I was there I Made the acquaintance of Canon and Mrs. King. Mrs.

  King, alas, is an invalid. I met Winnie then. A very well brought up

  girl, with a decided taste for art. I told Nirs. King that I should be

  happy to receive her here in a year or two-when her general studies were

  completed. We specialize here, M. Poirot, in art and music.

  The girls are taken to the Opera, to the Comddie Frangaise, they attend

  lectures at the Louvre. The very best masters come here to instruct

  them in music, singing, and painting. The broader culture, that is our

  aim."

  Miss Pope remembered suddenly tliat Poirot was not a parent and added

  abruptly, "What can I do for you, M.

  Poirot?"

  "I would be glad to know what is the present position regarding Winnie."

  "Canon Kin R has come over to Amiens and is taking Winnie back with him.

  The wisest thing to do after the shock the child has sustained."

  She went on: "We do not take delicate girls here. We have no special

  facilities for looking after inva(ts. I told the Canon that in my

  opinion he would do well to take the child home with him."

  Hercule I)oirot asked bluntly, "What, in your opinion, actually

  occurred, Miss Pope?"

  "I have not the slightest idea, M. Poirot. The whole thing, as

  reported to me, sounds quite iticredil)le. I really cannot see that the

  member of my staff who was in charge

  of the girls was in any way to blame-except tliat she might, perhaps,

  have discovered the girl's absence sooner."

  Poirot said, "You have received a visit, perhaps, from the police?"

  A faint shiver passed over Miss Pope's aristocratic form.

  She said glacially, "A Monsieur Lefai-ge of the Prdfecture called to see

  me, to see if I could throw any light upon the situation. Naturally I

  was unable to do so. He then demanded to inspect Winnie's trunk which

  had, of course, arrived here with those of the other girls. I told him

  that that had already been called for by another member of the police.

  Their departments, I fancy, mst overla]). I got a telephone call,

  shortly afterward, insisting that I had flot turned over all Winnie's

  possessions to them. I was extremely short with them over that. One

  must not submit to being bullied by officialdom."

  Poirot drew a long breath. He said, "You have a spirited nature. I

  admire you for it, Mademoiselle. I presume that Winnie's trunk had been

  unpacked on arrival?"

  14iss Pope looked a little put out of countenance.

  "Routine," she said. "We live strictly by routine. The girls are

  unpacked for on arrival and their things put away in the way I expect

  them to be kept. Winnie's things were unpacked with those of the other

  girls. Naturally, they were afterward repacked, so that her trunk was

  handed over exactly as it had arrived."

  Poirot said, "Exactly?"

  He strolled to the wall.

  "Surely this is a picture of the famous Cranchester Bridge with the

  Cathedral showing in the distance."

  "You are quite right, M. Poirot. Winnie had evidently painted that to

  bring to me as a surprise. It was in her trunk with a wrapper round it

  and For Miss Pope from Winnie written ozi it. Very charming of the

  child."

  "Ahl" said Poirot. "And what do you think of it-as a painting?"

  He himself had seen many pictures of Crancbester Bridge. It was a

  subject tliat could always be found represented at the Academy each

  year-sometimes as an oil

  painting-sometimes in the water-color room. He had seen it painted

  well-painted in a mediocre fashion, painted boringly. But he had never

  seen it quite as crudely represented as in the present example.

  Miss Pope was smiling indulgently.

  She said, "One must not discourage one's girls, M. Poirot. Winnie will

  be stimulated to do better work, of course."

  Poirot said thoughtfully, "It would have been more natur
al, would it

  not, for her to do a water-color?"

  "Yes. I did not know she was attempting to paint in oils."

  "Ah," said Hercule Poirot. "You will permit me, Mademoiselle?"

  He unhooked the picture and took it to the window.

  He examined it, then, looking up, he said:

  "I am going to ask you, Mademoiselle, to give me this picture."

  "Well, really, M. Poirot-"

  "You cannot pretend that you are very attached to it.

  The painting is abominable."

  "Oh, it has no artistic merit, I agree. But it is a pupil's work and-"

  "I assure you, Mademoiselle, that it is a most unsuitable picture to

  have hanging upon your wall."

  "I don't know why you should say that, M. Poirot."

  "I will prove it to you in a moment."

  He took a bottle, a sponge, and some rags from his pocket.

  He said, "First I am going to tell you a little story, Mademoiselle. It

  has a resemblance to the story of the Ugly Duckling that turned into a

  Swan."

  He was working busily as he talked. The odor of turpentine filled the

  room.

  "You do not perhaps go much to theatrical revues Mademoiselle?"

  "No, indeed, they seem to me so trivial."

  " Trivial, yes, but sometimes instructive. I have seen a clever revue

  artist change her personality in the most miraculous way. In one sketch

  she is a cabaret star, exquisite and glamorous. Ten minutes later, she

  is an undersized, anaemic clld with adenolds, dressed in a gym tunic-ten

  minutes later still, she is a ragged gypsy telling fortunes by a

  caravan.

  ::Very possible, no doubt, but I do not see-"

  But I am showing you how the conjuring trick was worked on the train.

  Winnie, the schoolgirl, with her fair plaits, her spectacles, her

  disfiguring dental plate-goes into the toilette. She emerges a quarter

  of an hour later-' to use the words of Detective Inspector Hearn-as 'a

  flashy piece of goods." Sheer silk stockings, high-heeled shoes-a mink

  coat Lo cover a school uniform, a daring little piece of velvet called a

  hat perched on her curls-and a face-oh, yes, a face. Rouge, powder,

  lipstick, mascaral What is the real face of that quick-change artiste

  really like? Probably only the good God knowsl But, you, Mademoiselle,

  you yourself, you have often seen how the awkward schoolgirl changes

  almost miraculously into the attractive and wellgroomed debutante."

  Miss Pope gasl.)ed.

  "Do you mean that Winnie King disguised herself as-"

  "Not Winnie King-no. Winnie was kidnaped on the way across London. Our

  quick-change artz'ste took her place. Miss Burshaw had never seen

  Winnie King. How was she to know that the schoolgirl with the lank

  plaits and the brace on her teeth was not Winnie King at all? So far,

  so good, but the impostor could not afford actually to arrive here,

  since you were acquainted with the real Winme. So hey presto, Winnie

  disappears in the toilette and emerges as wife to a man called Jim

  Elliot whose passport includes a wifel The fair plaits, the spectacles,

  the lisle thread stockings, the dental plate-all that can go into a

  small space. But the thick, unglamorous shoes and the hat -that very

  unyielding British hat-have to be disposed of elsewhere-they go out of

  the window. Later, the real Winme is brought across the channel-no one

  is looking for a sick, half-doped child being brought from England to

  France-and is quietly deposited from a car by the side of

  the main road. If she has been doped all along with scopolamine, she

  will remember very little of what has occurred."

  Miss Pope was staring at Poirot.

  She demanded, "But why? What would be the reason of such a senseless

  masquerade?"

  Poirot replied gravely, "Winnie's luggager These people wanted to

  smuggle something from England into France-something that every customs

  man was on the lookout for-in fact, stolen goods. But what place is

  safer than a schoolgirl's trunk? You are well known, Miss Pope, your

  establishment is justly famous. At the Gare (Iu Nord the trunks of

  Mesdemoiselles the little Pensionnaires are passed en bloc. It is the

  well-known English school of Miss Popel And then, after the kidnaping,

  what more natural than to send and collect the child's

  luggage-ostensibly from the Prefecture?"

  Hercule Poirot smiled.

  "But, fortunately, there was the school routine of unpacking trunks on

  arrival-and a present for you from Winnie-but not the same present that

  Winnie packed at Cranchester."

  He came toward her.

  "You have given this picture to me. Observe now, you must admit that it

  is not suitable for your select schooll"

  He held out the canvas.

  As though by magic Cranchester Bridge had disappeared. Instead was a

  classical scene in rich, dim colorings.

  Poirot said softly, "The Girdle of Hyppolita. Hyppolita gives her

  girdle to Hercules-painted by Rubens. A great work of art-mais tout de

  mime not quite suitable for your drawing-room."

  Miss Pope blushed slightly.

  Hyppolita's band was on her girdle-she was wearing nothing else.

  Hercules had a lion skin thrown lightly over one shoulder. The flesh of

  Rubens is rich, voluptuous flesh....

  Miss Pope said, regaining her poise, "A fine work of art.

  All the same-as you say-after all, one must consider the

  susceptibilities of parents. Some of them are inclined to be narrow-if

  you know what I mean."

  It was just as Poirot was leaving the house that the onslaught took

  place. He was surrounded, hemmed in, overwhelmed by a crowd of girls;

  thick, thin, dark, and fair.

  "Mon Dieu!" he murmured. "Here, indeed, is the attack by the Amazonsl"

  A tall, fair girl was crying out, "A rumor has gone round-"

  They surged closer. Hercule Poirot was surrounded. He disappeared in a

  wave of young, vigorous femininity.

  Twenty-five voices arose, pitched in various keys but all uttering the

  same momentous phrase:

  "M. Poirot, will you write your name in my autograph book?"

  "I REALLY DO APOLOGIZE for-intruding like this, M. Poirot."

  Miss Carnaby clasped her hands fervently round her handbag and leaned

  forward, peering anxiously into Poirot's face. As usual, she sounded

  breathless.

  Hercule Poirot's eyebrows rose.

  She said anxiously, "You do remember me, don't you?"

  Hercule Poirot's eyes twinkled.

  He said, "I remember you as one of the most successful criminals that I

  have ever encounteredl"

  "Oh, dear me, M. Poirot, must you really say such things? You were so

  kind to me. Emily and I often talk about you, and if we see anything

  about you in the paper we cut it out at oncq and paste it in a book. As

  for Augustus, we have taught him a new trick. We say, 'Die for Sherlock

  Holmes, die for Mr. Fortune, die for Sir Henry Merrivale, and then die

  for M. Hercule Poirot' and he goes down and lies like a log-lies

  absolutely still without moving until we say the wordl"

  "I am gratified," said Poirot. "And how is ce cher Auguste?"

  Miss Carn
aby clasped her hands and became eloquent in praise of

  her"Pekinese.

  "Oh, M. Poirot, he's cleverer than ever. He knows everything. Do you

  know, the other day I was just admiring a baby in a pram and suddenly I

  felt a tug and there was Augustus trying his hardest to bite through his

  lead.

  Wasn't that clever?"

  Poirot's eyes twinkled.

  He said, "It looks to me as though Augustus shared these criminal

  tendencies we were speaking of just now!"

  Miss Carnaby did not laugh. Instead, her nice plunil) face grew worried

  and sad.

  She said in a kind of gasp, "Oh, M. Poirot, I'm so worried."

  Poirot said kindly, "What is it?"

  "Do ybu know, M. Poirot, I'm afraid-I really am afraid -that I must be

  a hardened criminal-if I may use such a term. Ideas come to mel"

  "What kind of ideas?"

  "The most extraordinary ideasl For instance, yesterday, a really most

  practical scheme for robbing a post office came into my head. I wasn't

  thinking about it-it just camel And another very ingenious way for

  evading custorn duties. I feel convinced-quite convinced-that it would

  work."

  "It probably would," said Poirot dryly. "That is the danger of your

  ideas."

  "It has worried me, M. Poirot, very much. Having been brought up with

  strict principles, as I have been, it is most disturbing that such

  lawless-such really wicked-ideas should come to me. The trouble is

  partly, I think, that I have a good deal of leisure time now. I have

  left Lady Hoggin and I am engaged by an old lady to read to her and

  write her letters every day. The letters are soon done and the moment I

  begin reading she goes to sleep, so I am left just sitting there-with an

  idle mind-and we all know the use the devil has for idleness."

  "Teha, teha," said Poirot.

  "Recently I have read a book-a very modern book, translated from the

  German. It throws a most interesting light on criminal tendencies. One

  must, so I understand, sublimate one's impulsesl,That, really, is why I

  came to you."

  "Yes?" said Poirot.

  "You see, M. Poirot, I think that it is really not so much wickedness

  as a craving for excitementl My life has unfortunately been very

  humdrum. The-er-campaign of the Pekinese dogs, I sometimes feel, was

  the only time when I really lived. Very reprehensible, of course, but,

  as my book says, one must not turn one's back on the truth. I came to

  you, M. Poirot, because I hoped it might be possible to-t,>

  sublimate that craving for excitement by employing it, if I may put it

  that way, on the side of the ingels."

  "Aha," said Poirot. "It is then as a colleague that you present

  yourself?"

  Miss Carnaby blushed.

  "It is very presumptuous of me, I know. But you were so kind-"

  She stopped. Her eyes, faded blue eyes, had something in them of the

  pleading of a dog who hopes against hope that you will t:;ke him for a

  walk.

  "It is an idea," said Hercule Poirot slowly.

  "I am, of course, not at all clever," explained Miss Carnaby. "But my

  powers of-of dissimulation are good. They have to be-otherwise one

  would be discharged from the post of companion immediately. And I have

  always found that to appear even stupider than one is occasionally has

  good results."

  Hercule Poirot laughed. He said, "You enchant me, Mademoiselle."

  "Oh, dear, M. Poirot, what a very kind man you are.

  Then you do encourage me to hope? As it happens, I have just received a

  small legacy-a very small one-but it enables my sister and myself to