Agatha Christie

“ Always he has been very clever. He is suspected, yes, but nothing can be proved. It comes to my knowledge that this very clever gentleman, he is spending Christmas here in this house. It is important that the pretty young lady, once she has acquired the jewel, should disappear for a while from circulation, so that no pressure can be put upon her, no questions can be asked her. It is arranged, therefore, that she comes here to Kings Lacey, ostensibly as the sister of the clever gentleman–"
Sarah drew a sharp breath. "Oh, no. Oh, no, not here! Not with me here!"
"But so it is," said Poirot. ”

“ Sarah gave a gasp, then shot a quick suspicious glance at the two boys.
"You mean someone's killed the girl–what's-her-name–Bridget?" demanded Desmond. "Who on earth would want to kill her? It's unbelievable!"
"There are many things that are unbelievable," said Poirot. "Especially before breakfast, is it not? That is what one of your classics says. Six impossible things before breakfast." He added: "Please wait here, all of you."
Carefully making a circuit, he approached Bridget and bent for a moment down over the body. Colin and Michael were now both shaking with suppressed laughter. ”

“ I hope you will enjoy our Christmas party here, M. Poirot. It's only the family, you know. My granddaughter and a grandson and a friend of his and Bridget who's my great niece, and Diana who's a cousin and David Welwyn who is a very old friend. Just a family party. But Edwina Morecombe said that that's what you really wanted to see. An old-fashioned Christmas. Nothing could be more old-fashioned than we are! My husband, you know, absolutely lives in the past. He likes everything to be just as it was when he was a boy of twelve years old, and used to come here for his holidays. ”

“ Do you think he will really be taken in?"
"He will if we do it well enough," said Michael. "We'll have just your footprints in the snow and one other person's going to the body and coming away from it–a man's, of course. He won't want to disturb them, so he won't know that you're not really dead. You don't think," Michael stopped, struck by a sudden idea. The others looked at him. "You don't think he'll be annoyed about it?"
"Oh, I shouldn't think so," said Bridget, with facile optimism. "I'm sure he'll understand that we've just done it to entertain him. A sort of Christmas treat." ”

“ Mrs Lacey twinkled at him.
"Mrs Ross insists on having the best brandy, dear," she said. "She says it makes all the difference."
"Well, well," said Colonel Lacey, "Christmas comes but once a year and Mrs Ross is a great woman. A great woman and a great cook."
"She is indeed," said Colin. "Smashing plum pudding, this. Mmmm." He filled an appreciative mouth.
Gently, almost gingerly, Hercule Poirot attacked his portion of pudding. He ate a mouthful. It was delicious! He ate another. Something tinkled faintly on his plate. He investigated with a fork. Bridget, on his left, came to his aid. ”

“ After all, one does know children of that age each eat about as much as three strong men."
Poirot laughed and said, "It is most kind of you and your husband, Madame, to include me in this way in your family party."
"Oh, we're both delighted, I'm sure," said Mrs Lacey. "And if you find Horace a little gruff," she continued, "pay no attention. It's just his manner, you know."
What her husband, Colonel Lacey, had actually said was: "Can't think why you want one of these damned foreigners here cluttering up Christmas? Why can't we have him some other time? Can't stick foreigners! ”

“ There is to be education in my country. There are to be schools. There are to be many things. All in the name of progress, you understand, of democracy. It will not be, she says, like it was in my father"s time. Naturally she knows that I will have diversions in London, but not the scandal. No! It is the scandal that matters. You see it is very, very famous, this ruby. There is a long trail behind it, a history. Much bloodshed–many deaths!"
"Deaths," said Hercule Poirot thoughtfully. He looked at Mr Jesmond.
"One hopes," he said, "it will not come to that?" ”

“ We shall catch our deaths of cold here and there is nothing to be done until Mr Lee-Wortley returns with the police."
"But look here," said Colin, "we can't–we can't leave Bridget here alone."
"You can do her no good by remaining," said Poirot gently. "Come, it is a sad, a very sad tragedy, but there is nothing we can do any more to help Mademoiselle Bridget. So let us come in and get warm and have perhaps a cup of tea or of coffee."
They followed him obediently into the house. Peverell was just about to strike the gong. ”

“ The heart of woman does not change."
"Beg your pardon, sir?" said Annie.
"It is nothing," said Poirot. "I reflect. You shall have your vanity box, child."
"Oh thank you, sir. Oh thank you very much indeed, sir."
Annie departed ecstatically. Poirot looked after her, nodding his head in satisfaction.
"Ah," he said to himself. "And now–I go. There is nothing more to be done here."
A pair of arms slipped round his shoulders unexpectedly.
"If you will stand just under the mistletoe –" said Bridget. ”

“ She smiled to herself. "All the same old things, the Christmas tree and the stockings hung up and the oyster soup and the turkey–two turkeys, one boiled and one roast–and the plum pudding with the ring and the bachelor's button and all the rest of it in it. We can't have sixpences nowadays because they're not pure silver any more. ”

“ A very bad reputation! But that's no help so far as Sarah is concerned. It's never any good, is it, telling young girls that men have a bad reputation? It–it just spurs them on!"
"You are so very right," said Poirot.
"In my young day," went on Mrs Lacey. ("Oh dear, that's a very long time ago!) We used to be warned, you know, against certain young men, and of course it did heighten one's interest in them, and if one could possibly manage to dance with them, or to be alone with them in a dark conservatory–" She laughed. "That's why I wouldn't let Horace do any of the things he wanted to do." ”

“ At once she has what you call the wind up. She hides the ruby in the first place she can think of, and then very quickly she has a relapse and takes to her bed again. She does not want that I should see her, for doubtless I have a photograph and I shall recognize her. It is very boring for her, yes, but she has to stay in her room and her brother, he brings her up the trays."
"And the ruby?" demanded Michael.
"I think," said Poirot, "that at the moment it is mentioned I arrive, the young lady was in the kitchen with the rest of you, all laughing and talking and stirring the Christmas puddings. ”

“ Such excellent footprints, are they not–so very clear? The footprints of a man and a girl going out together to the place where she lies. And then the man's footsteps come back but the girl's–do not."
"They must be the footprints of the murderer," said Colin, with bated breath.
"Exactly," said Poirot. "The footprints of the murderer. A long narrow foot with rather a peculiar type of shoe. Very interesting. Easy, I think, to recognize. Yes, those footprints will be very important."
At that moment Desmond Lee-Wortley came out of the house with Sarah and joined them. ”

“ Overcome by mirth, Michael and Colin both turned away. In a choked voice Michael said:
"What–what must we do?"
"There is only one thing to do," said Poirot. "We must send for the police. Will one of you telephone or would you prefer me to do it?"
"I think," said Colin, "I think–what about it, Michael?"
"Yes," said Michael, "I think the jig's up now." He stepped forward. For the first time he seemed a little unsure of himself. "I'm awfully sorry," he said, "I hope you won't mind too much. It–er–it was a sort of joke for Christmas and all that, you know. ”

“ The good Mrs Ross, she takes the other pudding and sends it in."
"Good lord," said Colin, "do you mean that on Christmas Day when Grandfather was eating his pudding that that was a real ruby he'd got in his mouth?"
"Precisely," said Poirot, "and you can imagine the emotions of Mr Desmond Lee-Wortley when he saw that. Eh bien, what happens next? The ruby is passed round. I examine it and I manage unobtrusively to slip it in my pocket. In a careless way as though I were not interested. But one person at least observes what I have done. When I lie in bed that person searches my room. ”

“ Not a bought one?"
"Yes, indeed, sir. Of my own making and my own recipe such as I've made for many years. When I came here Mrs Lacey said that she'd ordered a pudding from a London store to save me the trouble. But no, Madam, I said, that may be kind of you but no bought pudding from a store can equal a home-made Christmas one. Mind you," said Mrs Ross, warming to her subject like the artist she was, "it was made too soon before the day. A good Christmas pudding should be made some weeks before and allowed to wait. The longer they're kept, within reason, the better they are. ”

“ Not skilled help, that is. The girls nowadays–" she lowered her voice slightly,"– they mean very well and they're very willing but they've not been trained, sir, if you understand what I mean."
"Times change, yes," said Hercule Poirot. "I too find it sad sometimes."
"This house, sir," said Mrs Ross, "it's too large, you know, for the mistress and the colonel. The mistress, she knows that. Living in a corner of it as they do, it's not the same thing at all. It only comes alive, as you might say, at Christmas time when all the family come." ”

“ You can have family affections at the same time as wishing to prey on a rich young girl. Sarah will be very rich, you know, not only with what we leave her–and of course that won't be very much because most of the money goes with the place to Colin, my grandson. But her mother was a very rich woman and Sarah will inherit all her money when she's twenty-one. She's only twenty now. No, I do think it was nice of Desmond to mind about his sister. ”

“ Why doesn't she have him for Christmas?"
"Because you know very well," Mrs Lacey had said, "that Edwina always goes to Claridge's."
Her husband had looked at her piercingly and said, "Not up to something, are you, Em?"
"Up to something?" said Em, opening very blue eyes. "Of course not. Why should I be?"
Old Colonel Lacey laughed, a deep, rumbling laugh. "I wouldn't put it past you, Em," he said. "When you look your most innocent is when you are up to something."
Revolving these things in her mind, Mrs Lacey went on: "Edwina said she thought perhaps you might help us . . . ”

“ Mr Jesmond began once more to talk about the delights of an English Christmas.
"It's dying out, you know," he said, "the real old-fashioned type of Christmas. People spend it at hotels nowadays. But an English Christmas with all the family gathered round, the children and their stockings, the Christmas tree, the turkey and plum pudding, the crackers. The snowman outside the window–"
In the interests of exactitude, Hercule Poirot intervened.
"To make a snowman one has to have the snow," he remarked severely. "And one cannot have snow to order, even for an English Christmas." ”

“ He brought with him a famous jewel which he was to have reset for the lady he was going to marry, but unfortunately before that he made friends with a very pretty young lady. This pretty young lady did not care very much for the man, but she did care for his jewel–so much so that one day she disappeared with this historic possession which had belonged to his house for generations. So the poor young man, he is in a quandary, you see. Above all he cannot have a scandal. Impossible to go to the police. Therefore he comes to me, to Hercule Poirot. “Recover for me,” he says, “my historic ruby.” ”

“ But we thought we ought always to leave her as free as possible."
"That is desirable, I think," said Poirot. "One cannot go against the spirit of the times."
"No," said Mrs Lacey, "that's just what I felt about it. And, of course, girls nowadays do these sort of things."
Poirot looked at her inquiringly.
"I think the way one expresses it," said Mrs Lacey, "is that Sarah has got in with what they call the coffee-bar set. She won't go to dances or come out properly or be a deb or anything of that kind. ”

“ When Desmond had gone to fetch his car, Sarah popped her head into the drawing-room again.
"We're going over to Market Ledbury," she said. "We thought we'd have a drink there at the White Hart."
There was a slight amount of defiance in her voice, but Mrs Lacey did not seem to notice it.
"Well, dear," she said. "I'm sure that will be very nice. David and Diana have gone for a walk, I see. I'm so glad. I really think it was a brainwave on my part to ask Diana here. So sad being left a widow so young–only twenty-two–I do hope she marries again soon." ”

“ She made the footprints with a pair of Mr Lee-Wortley"s shoes."
Sarah said in a harsh voice: "But what's the point of it all, M. Poirot? What's the point of sending Desmond off to fetch the police? They'll be very angry when they find out it's nothing but a hoax."
Poirot shook his head gently.
"But I do not think for one moment, Mademoiselle, that Mr Lee-Wortley went to fetch the police," he said. "Murder is a thing in which Mr Lee-Wortley does not want to be mixed up. He lost his nerve badly. All he could see was his chance to get the ruby. ”