Chapter 21 Chapter 21

Mr. Entwhistle, after an hour of trouble with the switchboard, got through at last, and found Hercule Poirot on the line. "Thank God!" Mr. Entwhistle's passion was understandable. "The switchboard seemed to be having a hard time getting the call through." "It's no surprise. The receiver is off the hook." The dark undertone in Poirot's tone reached the ears of the listeners. Mr Entwhistle said sharply: "Did something happen?" "Yes. The maid found Mrs. Leo Abernethy lying by the extension in the study about twenty minutes ago. She was unconscious and severely concussed."

"You mean she was hit in the head?" "I think so. It's possible she fell and hit her head on the marble doorstop, but I don't think so, and neither do the doctors." "She was on the phone with me at the time. I wondered why the phone was cut off all of a sudden." "So she was on the phone with you. What did she say?" "She mentioned to me not long ago that when Cora Lansquenet suggested that her brother had been murdered, she had a feeling that something was wrong...strange...she couldn't say what it was... She couldn't recall why she had that impression."

"And all of a sudden, she remembered." "yes." "And call to tell you." "yes." "and then?" "There's no more," said Mr. Entwhistle irritably. "She was about to tell me when the call was cut off." "What did she say?" "It's all inconsequential." "I'm sorry, my friend, but that's for me to judge, not you. What did she say?" "She reminded me that I wanted her to tell me as soon as she remembered what she thought was weird. She said she remembered...but said it 'didn't make sense.'"

"I asked her if it was related to someone who was there that day, and she said, yes, it was related to someone. She said she remembered it when she looked in the mirror..." "What about again?" "And that's all." "She didn't hint... who is it?" "If she had told me, I wouldn't have told you," said Mr. Entwhistle acidly. "I apologize to you, my friend. Of course you will tell me." Mr Entwhistle said: "We'll only find out when she's sane." Poirot said gravely: "That could be a long time. Maybe... never sober."

"Is it that serious?" Mr. Entwhistle's voice trembled a little. "Yes, it is that serious." "But . . . that's terrible, Poirot." "Yes, it's terrible. That's why we can't wait! Because it shows that the man we have to deal with is either extremely cruel or terrified, and no matter what, we can't do it anymore. Waiting." "But listen first, Poirot, what about Helen? I am concerned. Are you sure she is safe at Enderby?" "No, it's not safe. So she's not in Enderby now. The ambulance has come and she's been taken to a nursing home where she's being looked after by special nurses and no one is allowed to see her, family or anyone else."

Mr Entwhistle sighed. "You've reassured me a lot. She could have been in danger." "Of course she was in danger!" Mr. Entwhistle said deeply: "I have great respect for Helen Abernether, always have. A very extraordinary woman. There may be some... how shall I put it?... secrets in her life?" "Huh? Is there something secret?" "I think so all the time." "That's why there are villas in Cyprus. Yes, that says a lot..." "I don't want you to start thinking about..." "You can't stop me from thinking. However, I have a small task for you now, wait a minute."

There was a pause, and then Poirot's voice came again. "I've got to make sure no one's listening. That's fine. Now let's talk about what I want you to do. You've got to get ready to travel." "Travel?" Mr. Entwhistle sounded a little panicked. "Oh, I see... you want me to come to Enderby?" "Not at all. I'm in charge here. No, you don't have to travel that far. Your journey won't be very far from London. You'll go to Berry St Edmunds. . . . Seriously!) When you get there, hire a car and go to Foddick House, which is a mental institution. Find Dr. Penrith, and ask him about a recently discharged patient."

"What patient? Anyway, of course..." Poirot interrupted him to say: "The patient's name is Greg Banks. Find out what psychosis he was treated for." "You mean Greg Banks is out of his mind?" "Shh...be careful what you say, come on...I haven't had breakfast yet, and I suppose you haven't either?" "Not yet. I'm too impatient..." "I know. Then, I ask you, have a good breakfast and calm down. There's a good train to Berry St Edmunds at twelve. If I have any more news, I'll call before you go Tell you."

"How careful you are, Poirot," said Mr. Entwhistle with some concern. "Oh, yes! I, I don't want to be knocked on the head with a marble doorstop. You can rest assured that I will take precautions. Well...for now...bye." Poirot heard the sound of the other party hanging up, and then he heard a very subtle second "click"... and smiled to himself.Someone dropped a receiver in the hall. He walks out into the hall.No one was there.He tiptoed to the closet under the stairs.At this moment Lanscamber came out with a tray of toast and a silver coffee jug, and was a little surprised to see Poirot emerging from the closet.

"Breakfast is ready in the dining room, sir," he said. Poirot studied him thoughtfully. The old servant was pale and frightened. "Be brave," said Poirot, patting him on the shoulder. "Everything will be all right. It won't be too much trouble for you to bring a cup of coffee to my bedroom?" "Of course not, sir. I'll send Jenny up, sir." Lanscomber looked after Hercule Poirot disapprovingly as he climbed the stairs.Poirot was wearing a strange silk gown with triangular and quadrangular patterns all over it. "Foreigners!" thought Lanscomber angrily. "The foreigner's in the house! And Mrs. Leo's got a concussion! I don't know what it's going to be like going down. Everything's changed since Mr. Richard died."

Hercule Poirot was already dressed when he took the coffee from Jenny.His sympathetic words were quite pleasing to Jenny, for he emphasized how frightened she must have been when she discovered Mrs. Leo. "Yes, you are right, sir, and I will never forget how I felt when I opened the study door and saw Mrs. Leo lying there. There she lay... I hurried over. And found she was not dead. She must have passed out while standing there talking on the phone... I can't believe she got up so early in the morning! I've never seen her get up so early." "Unexpectedly, yes!" He added casually: "I don't think anyone else got up at that time, right?" "Honestly, sir, Mrs. Timothy was up then. She's always an early riser . . . and often goes for a walk before breakfast." "She belongs to the early generation," said Poirot, nodding. "Young people nowadays...don't they get up so early?" "No, you're right, sir, I brought tea to them, and they were all still sound asleep--and I was already late, frightened, and I had to go to the doctor first. Drink a cup to calm yourself, and it took a lot of time." she leaves.Poirot recalled what she had said. "Moody Abernether is up, and the younger generation is still in bed... But that means nothing, thought Poirot. Anyone could have heard Helen's door open, and followed her to eavesdrop." ...then go back to bed and pretend to be asleep." "But if I'm right," thought Poirot. "And after all it is natural for me to infer correctly...it is my habit!...There is no need, then, to inquire who is here and who is there. First, I must find evidence for my inference. Then...I publish A little speech. Then sit back and see what happens..." As soon as Jenny left the room, Poirot drank his cup of coffee, put on his overcoat and hat, left his room, and jumped nimbly down the back stairs and out by the side door.He walked briskly for a quarter of a mile to the telegraph office to make a long-distance call.Soon he was on the phone again with Mr. Entwhistle. "Yes, it's me again! Ignore the original assignment I gave you. It was fake! Someone was bugging it. Now, my friend, talk about the real assignment. You must, as I said, Take the train, but not to Barry St. Edmunds. I want you to go to Timothy Abernethy's." "But Timothy and Moody are in Enderby now." "That's right. There's no one in his house except a woman named Jones, whom he's paid a lot of money to persuade to stay and look after their house. What I want you to do is, go out there and get something!" "My dear Poirot! I can't really be reduced to being a thief!" "It's not about stealing. Tell Jones, who knows you, that the Abernethians want you to help them bring something to London, and she won't be suspicious." "No, probably not. But I don't like it," said Mr. Entwhistle, very reluctantly. "Why can't you get it yourself." "Because, my friend, I am a strange foreigner, and Mrs. Jones's immediate suspicion upon seeing me creates difficulties! With you, she will not." "Yes, yes . . . I understand. But what would Timothy and Moody think? I've known them for over forty years." "You've known Richard Abernether for over forty years, too! And you've known Cora Lansquenet since she was a little girl!" Mr. Entwhistle said in the tone of "a strong man breaks his wrist": "Are you sure it is really necessary, Poirot?" "It's like the question on a wartime poster, 'Is your journey really necessary?' I tell you, it is. Very much!" "Then what do you want me to fetch?" Poirot told him. "But, seriously, Poirot, I don't understand..." "You don't have to understand. I'm the one to understand." "Then what the hell do you want me to do with that?" "You take it to London, take it to a place in Elm Park, and write down the address, if you have a pen." After Mr. Entwhistle wrote down the address, he still said in the tone of "heroic sacrifice": "I hope you know what you are doing, Poirot?" His tone was tinged with great suspicion... But Poirot's answer was firm. "Of course I know what I'm doing. We're going straight to the Dragon." Mr Entwhistle sighed. "If only we could guess what Helen was trying to tell me." "Don't guess, I know." "You know? But my good Poirot..." "I'll explain to you later. But let me assure you that I know what Helen Abernethie found when she looked in the mirror." The atmosphere at breakfast was not quite right.Neither Rosamund nor Timothy were at the table, but the others were in the dining room, talking in low voices and eating a little less than usual. George was the first to regain his usual look.He has a cheerful nature. "I think Aunt Helen will be all right," he said. "Doctors always like to put on a long face. After all, what's a concussion? It's often healed within a few days." "I knew a woman in the war who had a concussion," replied Miss Gilchrist. "She was walking down the road and a brick or something hit her in the head...it was the time of the air raids...she didn't feel a thing at all. Just kept doing her thing...and then twelve hours later all of a sudden in Passed out on the train to Liverpool. Believe it or not, she had no memory of being at the station, getting on the train, etc. She was in the hospital and couldn't think of it. She was in the hospital for almost three weeks .” "What I can't figure out," Susan said, "is why Helen is calling so early, and who is she calling?" "Not feeling well," Moody said affirmatively. "Maybe I woke up feeling weird and went downstairs to call the doctor. Then suddenly felt dizzy and fell to the floor. That's the only reasonable explanation." "Just hit my head on the doorstop," Mike said. "It'll be all right if she falls on the thick carpet." The dining room door opened, and Rosamund came in, frowning. "I couldn't find those wax flowers," she said. "I mean the ones on the malachite table at Uncle Richard's funeral." She looked at Susan reproachfully. "You didn't take it, did you?" "Of course not! Really, Rosamund, poor old Helen was dragged to the hospital with a concussion. You don't think about your malachite table anymore, do you?" "I don't see why I shouldn't think. It doesn't matter to you if you have a concussion and you don't know anything. There's no way. What can we do to help Aunt Helen? And Mike and I have to catch up before lunch tomorrow." Going back to London, because we have to meet with Jack Lego about a date for 'The Baron's Tour.' So I want to get that table out of the way. But I want to see the wax flowers again. On that table It's a Chinese vase now... nice... but not fitting. I really doubt they've gone there... maybe Lanscamber knows." Lan Scamber just came in to see if they had finished their breakfast. "We've used them all, Lanscomber," said George, rising. "What's the matter with our foreign friends?" "He's upstairs drinking coffee and eating toast." "Small breakfast for representatives of the United Nations Center for Elderly Refugees." "Lan Scamber, do you know what happened to those wax flowers that used to stand on the green table in the drawing room?" "As far as I know, Mrs. Leo dropped them by accident, ma'am. She's going to order a glass cover again, but I don't think she's done that yet." "So where is it now?" "Probably in the cupboard under the stairs, ma'am. That's where things are usually kept for repairs. Shall I go and look for you?" "I'll see for myself. Come with me, Mike. It's dark over there. I don't want to go anywhere dark by myself after what happened to Aunt Helen." Everyone looked shocked.Moody asked in her low voice: "What do you mean, Rosamund?" "Oh, she was attacked, wasn't she?" Greg Banks said suddenly: "She passed out suddenly." Rosamund laughed. "Did she tell you that? Don't be silly, Greg, of course she was knocked out." George said sharply: "You shouldn't say that, Rosamund." "A joke," said Rosamund. "She must be. I mean, of course. A detective was in the house looking for clues, Uncle Richard was poisoned. Aunt Cora was hacked to death with an axe. Miss Gilchrist received the following report. The poisoned wedding cake, and now Aunt Helen is knocked out with blunt force. You see, it will go on like this. One by one we will be killed and the last one left will be... I mean, the murderer. But it won't be me... I mean, the murderer." "Then why would anyone want to kill you, beautiful Rosamund?" George asked frivolously. Rosamund's eyes opened wide. "Oh," she said. "Of course because I know too much." "What do you know?" Moody Abernether and Greg Banks asked almost simultaneously. Rosamund showed a pure angelic smile. "Don't you all know that too?" she said kindly. "Come on, Mike."