they admire it in themselves. But their training
prevents them from saying so. Me, I am not like
that. The talents that I possess--I would salute
them in another. As it happens, in my own particular
line, there is no one to touch me. C'est dornrnage,t As it is, I admit freely and without the hypocrisy
that I am a great man. I have the order,
the method and the psychology in an unusual de
34
Agatha Christie
gree. I am, ir; fact, Hercule Poirot! Why should I
turn red and stammer and mutter into my chin
that really I am very stupid9. It would not be
true."
"There is certainly only one Hercule Poirot," I
agreed--not without a spice of malice, of which,
fortunately, Poirot remained quite oblivious.
Lady Chatterton was one of Poirot's most ar-dent
admirers. Starting from the mysterious con-duct
of a Pekingese, he had unraveled a chain
which led to a noted burglar and housebreaker.
Lady Chatterton had been loud in his praises ever
since.
To see Poirot at a party was a great sight. His
faultless evening clothes, the exquisite set of his
white tie, the exact symmetry of his hair parting,
the sheen of pomade on his hair, and the tortured
splendor of his famous mustaches--all combined
to paint the perfect picture of an inveterate dandy.
It was hard, at these moments, to take the little
man seriously.
It was about half-past eleven when Lady Chat-terton,
bearing down upon us, whisked Poirot
neatly out of an admiring group, and carried him
off--I need hardly say, with myself in tow.
"I want you to go into my little room upstairs,"
said Lady Chatterton rather breathlessly as soon
as she was out of earshot of her other guests.
"You know where it is, M. Poirot. You'll find
someone there who needs your help very badly--and
you will help her, I know. She's one of my
dearest friends--so don't say no."
Energetically leading the way as she talked,
Lady Chatterton flung open a door, exclaiming
THE MYSTERY OF THE I,GD.D CHEST 35
as she 'did so, "I've got him, Maruerita darling.
And he'll do anything you want. You ¢i!! help
Mrs. Clayton, won't you, M. Poirct?"
And taking the answer for grated, she with-drew
with the same energy that characterized all
her movements.
Mrs. Clayton had been sitting in a chair by
the window. She rose now and cme toward us.
Dressed in deep mourning, the dull black showed
up her fair coloring. She was a singularly lovely
woman, and there was about her a aimple childlike
candor which made her charm quit irresistible.
"Alice Chatterton is so kind," she said. "She
arranged this. She said you would help me, M.
Poirot. Of course I don't know whether you will
or not--but I hope you will."
She had held out her hand and P oirot had taken
it. He held it now for a moment cr two while he
stood scrutinizing her closely. There was nothing
ill-bred in his manner of doing it. It was more the
kind but searching look that a fanaous consultant
gives a new patient as the latter is shered into his
presence.
"Are you ,Jure, madame," he said at last, "that
I can help you?"
"Alice says so."
"Yes, but I am asking you, madame."
A little flush rose to her cheeks.
"I don't know what you mean."
"What is it, madame, that you want me to do?"
"You--you--know who I am?" she asked.
"Assuredly."
"Then you can guess what it is I am asking
you to do, M. Poirot--Captain Hastings"--I was
36
Agatha Christie
gratified that she realized my identity--"Major
Rich did not kill my husband."
"Why not?"
"I beg your pardon?"
POirot smiled at her slight discomfiture.
"I said, 'Why not?' "he repeated.
"I'm not sure that I understand."
"Yet it is very simple. The police--the lawyers
--they will all ask the same question: Why did
Major Rich kill M. Clayton? I ask the opposite. I
ask you, madame, why did Major Rich not kill
Major Clayton?"
"You mean--why I'm so sure? Well, but I
know. I know Major Rich so well."
"You know Major Rich so well," repeated
Poirot tonelessly.
The color flamed into her cheeks.
"Yes, that's what they'll say--what they'll
think! Oh, I know!"
"C'est vrai. That is what they will ask you
about--how well you knew Major Rich. Perhaps
you will speak the truth, perhaps you will lie. It is
very necessary for a woman to lie sometimes.
Women must defend themselves--and the lie, it is
a good weapon. But there are three people, ma-dame,
to whom a woman should speak the truth.
To her father confessor, to her hairdresser and to
her private detective--if she trusts him. Do you
trust me, madame?"
Marguerita Clayton drew a deep breath. "Yes,"
she said. "I do. I must," she added rather child-ishly.
"Then, how well do you know Major Rich?"
THE MYSTERY OF THE BAGDAD CHEST 37
She looked at him for a moment in silence, then
she raised her chin defiantly.
"I will answer your question. I loved Jack from
the first moment I saw him--two years ago. Lately I think--I believe--he has come to love me. But he
has never said so."
"£patant.t'' said Poirot. "You have saved me a
good quarter of an hour by coming to the point
without beating the bush. You have the good
sense. Now your husband--did he suspect your
feelings?"
"I don't know," Said Marguerita slowly. "I
thoughtlately--that he might. His manner has
been different But
that may have been merely
my
fancy."
"Nobody
else knew?"
"I do not think so."
"And--pardon
me, madame--you did not love your
husband?"
There
were, I think, very few women who we
ld have answered that question as simply
as this woman did. They would have tried to
explain their
feelings.
Maruerita Clayton said
quite simply: "No." "Bien. Now we know where
we are. According to you, madame, Major Rich did
not kill your husband, but you realize that
all the evidence points to his having done so.
Are you aware,
privately, of any flaw
in that evidence?"
"No.
I know nothing."
"When did your husband first
inform you of his
visit to Scotland?"
"Just after lunch. He said it was
a
bore,
but
38
Agatha Christie
he'd have to go. Something to do with land values,
he said it was."
"And after that?"
"He went out--to his club, I think. I--I didn't
see him again."
"Now as to Major Rich--what was his manner
that evening? Just as usual?"
"Yes, I think so."
"You are not sure?"
Marguerita wrinkled her brows.
"He wasma little constrained. With me--not
with the others. But I thought I knew why that
was. You understand? I am sure the constraint
or--or--absentmindedness perhaps describes it
better--had nothing to do with Edward. He was
surprised to hear that Edward had gone to Scot-land,
but not unduly so."
"And nothing else unusual occurs to you in
connection with that evening?"
Marguerita thought.
"No, nothing whatever."
"You--noticed the chest?"
She shook her head with a little shiver.
"I don't even remember it--or what it was like.
We played poker most of the evening."
"Who won?"
"Major Rich. I had very bad luck, and so did
Major Curtiss. The Spences won a little, but
Major Rich was the chief winner."
"The party broke up--when?"
"About half-past twelve, I think. We all left
together."
"Ah!"
THE MYSTERY OF THE BAGDAD CHEST
Poirot remained silent, lost in thought.
"I wish I could be more helpful to you," said
Mrs. Clayton. "I seem to be able to tell you so
little."
"About the present--yes. What about the past,
madame?"
"The past?"
"Yes. Have there not been incidents?"
She flushed.
"You mean that dreadful little man who shot
himself. It wasn't my fault, M. Poirot. Indeed it
wasn't."
"It was not precisely of that incident that I was
thinking."
"That ridiculous due!? But Italians do fight
duels. I was so thankful the man wasn't killed."
"It must have been a relief to you," agreed
Poirot gravely.
She was looking at him doubtfully. He rose and
took her hand in his.
"I shall not fight a duel for you, madame," he
said. "But I will do what you have asked me. I will
discover the truth. And let us hope that your in-stincts
are correct--that the truth will help and not
harm you."
Our first interview was with Major Curtiss. He
was a man of about forty, of soldierly build, with
very dark hair and a bronzed face. He had known
the Claytons for some years and Major Rich also.
He confirmed the press reports.
Clayton and he had had a drink together at the
club just before half-past seven, and Clayton had
then announced his intention of looking in on
40
Agath Christie
Major Rich on lais waYlo Euston.
"What was Mr. Claton's'manner? Was he de-pressed
or cheerful?"
The major C°nsiderd. He was a slow-spoken
man.
"Seemed in fairly g%d spirits," he said at last.
"He said nothing bout being on bad terms
with Major RicI?''
"Good Lord, no. They were pals."
"He didn't oIject t°'-his wife's friendship with
Major Rich?"
The major became Very red in the face.
"You've been. r.ea. ding those damned news-papers,
with tlaelr nm[s and lies. Of course he
didn't object. Why, he said to me: 'Marguerita's
going, of course""
"I see. Now during the evening--the manner of
Major Rich--Was that huch as usual?"
"I didn't notice any qifference."
"And madar0e? She, too, was as usual."
"Well," he reflected, "now I come to think of
it, she was a bit quiet. You know, thoughtful and
faraway."
"Who arrived first?"
"The SpenceS' They were there when I got
there. As a mStter of tact, I'd called round for
Mrs. Clayton, Itt f°unl she'd already started. So
I got there a bit late."
"And how did you amuse yourselves? You
danced? You pi$yed the cards?"
"A bit of botl. Danced first of all."
' "There were five of Yu?"
"Yes, but that's all right, because I don't dance.
I put on the records and the others danced."
THE MYSTERY OF THE BAGDAD CHEST
41
"Who danced most with whom?"
"Well, as a matter of fact the Spences like danc-ing
together. They've got a sort of craze on
fancy steps and all that."
"So that Mrs. Clayton danced mostly with
Major Rich?"
"That's about it."
"And then you played poker?"
"Yes."
"And when did you leave?"
"Oh, quite early. A little after midnight."
"Did you all leave together?"
"Yes. As a matter of fact, we shared a taxi,
dropped Mrs. Clayton first, then me, and the
Spences took it on to Kensington."
Our next visit was to Mr. and Mrs. Spence.
Only Mrs. Spence was at home, but her account of
the evening tallied with that of Major Curtiss
except that she displayed a slight acidity concern-ing
Major Rich's luck at cards.
Earlier in the morning Poirot had had a tele-phone
conversation with Inspector Japp, of Scot-land
Yard. As a result we arrived at Major Rich's
rooms and found his manservant, Burgoyne, ex-pecting
us.
Mr. Clayton had arrived at twenty minutes to
eight. Unluckily Major Rich had just that very
minute gone out. Mr. Clayton had said that he
couldn't wait, as he had to catch a train, but he
would just scrawl a note. He accordingly went into
the sitting room to do so. Burgoyne had not ac-tually
heard his master come in, as he was running
the bath, and Major Rich, of course, let himself in
42
Agatha Crist.e
with his own key. In his
o.
Inl
minutes later that Major leh un it was about ten
him out for cigarettes.
.L .
No,. tailed hi arid sent
me stting room. Major ne , ....
doorway. He had rf,,-'ich ':". " goe Into
mi-,,,d, -'-"I
;r naa StOod in the
.... a mtcr ana on ths h "" the cigarettes five
into the sitting room wh; cc. .
. ..
, sq SlOR fie boa
For fils master, who was studt
tncn epty' save
smoking. His master had inu?g by the window
ready, and on being told it 3 a ;:. .
ta,e ,,.--e. 'ur,o,ne. ,a:a'
Clayton, as he assumed tha, n.
. e
,. t mentioned Mr
Mr. Clayton there and let ms
i ,aa
loun
.master's
manner had been 6re,.Ot h
self. His
usual. He had taken his
ba?elth same as
shortly
after, Mr. and Mrs, q, cnan
ed,
and
&nb
sp; to be
followed by Majo
nce ha arrived,
Clayton.
'artiss and Mrs.
It had not
occurred
to
plained, that Mr. Clayton
h
his master's return. To do lg
- u,
, nave left before
v have had
to bang the front d 'qr
.....
mat te valet was sure
he wou
-ers Id h . nd ams
and
Still in the same imp one, -ave
proceeded to his
finding of thanner, '
urgoyne
time
my attention was direct bdy. For the
first
It was a good-sized piece o if
the fatal chest.
against the
wall next to the hbo rniture standing
It
was made
of some dark w .ograph cabinet.
studded with
brass nails. Th
°t and
enough. I
looked in
and
shik
li
Plentifully
opene,
simply
scrubbed,
ominous
stains
rem er t.