‘You make me feel afraid.’
‘I’m a little afraid myself,’ said Gale.
Chapter 6
Consultation
Hercule Poirot rejoined his friend Inspector Japp. The latter had a grin on his face.
‘Hullo, old boy,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a pretty near squeak of being locked up in a police cell.’
‘I fear,’ said Poirot gravely, ‘that such an occurrence might have damaged me professionally.’
‘Well,’ said Japp with a grin, ‘detectives do turn out to be criminals sometimes—in story books.’
A tall thin man with an intelligent, melancholy face joined them, and Japp introduced him.
‘This is Monsieur Fournier of the Sûreté. He has come over to collaborate with us about this business.’
‘I think I have had the pleasure of meeting you once some years ago, M. Poirot,’ said Fournier, bowing and shaking hands. ‘I have also heard of you from M. Giraud.’
A very faint smile seemed to hover on his lips. AndPoirot, who could well imagine the terms in which Giraud (whom he himself had been in the habit of referring to disparagingly as the ‘human fox-hound’) had spoken of him, permitted himself a small discreet smile in reply.
‘I suggest,’ said Poirot, ‘that both you gentlemen should dine with me at my rooms. I have already invited Maître Thibault. That is, if you and my friend Japp do not object to my collaboration.’
‘That’s all right, old cock,’ said Japp, slapping him heartily on the back. ‘You’re in on this on the ground floor.’
‘We shall be indeed honoured,’ murmured the Frenchman ceremoniously.
‘You see,’ said Poirot, ‘as I said to a very charming young lady just now, I am anxious to clear my character.’
‘That jury certainly didn’t like the look of you,’ agreed Japp with a renewal of his grin. ‘Best joke I’ve heard for a long time.’
By common consent no mention of the case was made during the very excellent meal which the little Belgian provided for his friends.
‘After all, it is possible to eat well in England,’ murmured Fournier appreciatively as he made delicate use of a thoughtfully provided toothpick.
‘A delicious meal, M. Poirot,’ said Thibault.
‘Bit Frenchified, but damn good,’ pronounced Japp.
‘A meal should always lie lightly on the estomac ,’ said Poirot. ‘It should not be so heavy as to paralyse thought.’
‘I can’t say my stomach ever gives me much trouble,’ said Japp. ‘But I won’t argue the point. Well, we’d better get down to business. I know that M. Thibault has got an appointment this evening, so I suggest that we should start by consulting him on any point that seems likely to be useful.’
‘I am at your service, gentlemen. Naturally I can speak more freely here than in a coroner’s court. I had a hurried conversation with Inspector Japp before the inquest, and he indicated a policy of reticence—the bare necessary facts.’
‘Quite right,’ said Japp. ‘Don’t ever spill the beans too soon. But now let’s hear all you can tell us of this Giselle woman.’
‘To speak the truth, I know very little. I know her as the world knew her—as a public character. Of her private life as an individual I know very little. Probably M. Fournier here can tell you more than I can. But I will say to you this: Madame Giselle was what you call in this country “a character”. She was unique. Of her antecedents nothing is known. I have an idea that as a young woman she was good-looking. I believe that as a result of smallpox she lost her looks. Shewas—I am giving you my impressions—a woman who enjoyed power; she had power. She was a keen woman of business. She was the type of hard-headed Frenchwoman who would never allow sentiment to affect her business interests; but she had the reputation of carrying on her profession with scrupulous honesty.’
He looked for assent to Fournier. That gentleman nodded his dark melancholic head.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She was honest—according to her lights. Yet
‘I’m a little afraid myself,’ said Gale.
Chapter 6
Consultation
Hercule Poirot rejoined his friend Inspector Japp. The latter had a grin on his face.
‘Hullo, old boy,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a pretty near squeak of being locked up in a police cell.’
‘I fear,’ said Poirot gravely, ‘that such an occurrence might have damaged me professionally.’
‘Well,’ said Japp with a grin, ‘detectives do turn out to be criminals sometimes—in story books.’
A tall thin man with an intelligent, melancholy face joined them, and Japp introduced him.
‘This is Monsieur Fournier of the Sûreté. He has come over to collaborate with us about this business.’
‘I think I have had the pleasure of meeting you once some years ago, M. Poirot,’ said Fournier, bowing and shaking hands. ‘I have also heard of you from M. Giraud.’
A very faint smile seemed to hover on his lips. AndPoirot, who could well imagine the terms in which Giraud (whom he himself had been in the habit of referring to disparagingly as the ‘human fox-hound’) had spoken of him, permitted himself a small discreet smile in reply.
‘I suggest,’ said Poirot, ‘that both you gentlemen should dine with me at my rooms. I have already invited Maître Thibault. That is, if you and my friend Japp do not object to my collaboration.’
‘That’s all right, old cock,’ said Japp, slapping him heartily on the back. ‘You’re in on this on the ground floor.’
‘We shall be indeed honoured,’ murmured the Frenchman ceremoniously.
‘You see,’ said Poirot, ‘as I said to a very charming young lady just now, I am anxious to clear my character.’
‘That jury certainly didn’t like the look of you,’ agreed Japp with a renewal of his grin. ‘Best joke I’ve heard for a long time.’
By common consent no mention of the case was made during the very excellent meal which the little Belgian provided for his friends.
‘After all, it is possible to eat well in England,’ murmured Fournier appreciatively as he made delicate use of a thoughtfully provided toothpick.
‘A delicious meal, M. Poirot,’ said Thibault.
‘Bit Frenchified, but damn good,’ pronounced Japp.
‘A meal should always lie lightly on the estomac ,’ said Poirot. ‘It should not be so heavy as to paralyse thought.’
‘I can’t say my stomach ever gives me much trouble,’ said Japp. ‘But I won’t argue the point. Well, we’d better get down to business. I know that M. Thibault has got an appointment this evening, so I suggest that we should start by consulting him on any point that seems likely to be useful.’
‘I am at your service, gentlemen. Naturally I can speak more freely here than in a coroner’s court. I had a hurried conversation with Inspector Japp before the inquest, and he indicated a policy of reticence—the bare necessary facts.’
‘Quite right,’ said Japp. ‘Don’t ever spill the beans too soon. But now let’s hear all you can tell us of this Giselle woman.’
‘To speak the truth, I know very little. I know her as the world knew her—as a public character. Of her private life as an individual I know very little. Probably M. Fournier here can tell you more than I can. But I will say to you this: Madame Giselle was what you call in this country “a character”. She was unique. Of her antecedents nothing is known. I have an idea that as a young woman she was good-looking. I believe that as a result of smallpox she lost her looks. Shewas—I am giving you my impressions—a woman who enjoyed power; she had power. She was a keen woman of business. She was the type of hard-headed Frenchwoman who would never allow sentiment to affect her business interests; but she had the reputation of carrying on her profession with scrupulous honesty.’
He looked for assent to Fournier. That gentleman nodded his dark melancholic head.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She was honest—according to her lights. Yet
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