Chapter 19 Chapter 18 Negotiation

Hercule Poirot was prepared to fight back against the possible intolerance of a headmistress against an elderly foreigner with a beard and pointed shoes.But he was surprised and delighted, and Miss Bulstrode received him with a cosmopolitan spirit and composure.And she knew everything about him to his satisfaction. "It's very kind of you, M. Poirot," she said, "to call so soon and to ease our worries. Especially since you called before we had time to worry about it. You know, Julie Kie, There was no sense of your absence at lunch." Turning to the girl, she added, "So many girls were picked up this morning, so many empty seats at the table. Even half the school was absent, I think. Nor is it alarming. This is not a normal situation," she said, turning to Poirot. "I assure you, we are not usually so disorganized. When I got your call, I went to Juliet's room. , found the note she left behind."

"Miss Bulstrode. I don't want you to think I've been kidnapped," said Julie Kee. "I understand that, but. Julia, you should have told me what you were going to do." "I think I'd better not do it," said Juliet, and added, out of the blue, "Everything we say and do is watched. (in French)" "Miss Blanche doesn't seem to have managed to improve your accent. said Miss Bulstrode cheerfully, "but I don't blame you, Julia." She turned to Poirot. "If you like, I would like to hear what happened now." "Will you allow it?" said Hercule Poirot.He walked across the room, opened the door to look out, made a dramatic closing motion, then turned back, smiling.

"We're not bothered now," he said cryptically, "and we can start talking." Miss Bulstrode looked at Poirot, then at the door, then at Poirot.She raised her eyebrows.He met her gaze firmly.Miss Bulstrode turned her head slowly.Then, returning to her breezy demeanor, she said, "Well, Juliet, let us hear you tell the whole story." Julia immediately began her retelling.The exchange of tennis rackets, the mysterious woman.Finally she found something hidden in the tennis racket.Miss Bulstrode turned to Poirot. "Miss Julia is right about everything," said he. "I am in charge of what she brings to me. I have deposited them safely in the bank. I think, therefore, that you may foresee that your here Nothing unpleasant will happen again."

"I understand," said Miss Bulstrode, "yes, I understand--" She was silent for a while, and then she said, "Do you think it wise for Julia to stay here, or for her to go to her aunt in London?" "Ah, please let me stay here," said Julie Ji. "And are you happy here?" said Miss Bulstrode. "I like it here," said Julie Ji, "and there are exciting things going on here." "That's not a peculiarity of the meadow itself," said Miss Bulstrode dryly. "I think Leah is in no danger here now," said Hercule Poirot.She glanced at the door again.

"I think I can understand," said Miss Bulstrode. "Nevertheless," said Poirot, "care must be exercised. Do you know how to be cautious?" he added, looking at Julie Kie. "What M. Poirot means," said Miss Bulstrode, "is that you can keep silent?" "Yes." Julie said. "What you find in a tennis racket in the middle of the night is indeed a pleasant story to tell a friend," said Poirot, "but it is important that the story cannot be told, and there is a very important reason why it is so. .” "I understand," Julia said.

"Can I trust you, Juliet?" said Miss Bulstrode. "You can trust me," said Julie. "By God." Miss Burroughs smiled. "I hope your mother will be home soon." "Mom? Ah, I hope so too." "I understand from Inspector Kelsey," said Miss Bulstrode, "that every effort has been made to get in touch with your mother. Unfortunately there are frequent traffic accidents on Anatolian buses. Unexpected delays, often driving off schedule." "Can I tell Mom?" Julia asked. "Of course. Well, Julia, it's settled. You may go now."

Julia left.She closed the door casually.Miss Bulstrode fixed her eyes on Poirot. "I think I understand you correctly," she said. "You pretended to close that door just now, but in fact—you left it slightly open on purpose. .” Poirot nodded. "So that what we're talking about can be overheard, isn't it?" "Yes—if anyone wants to eavesdrop. It's a precaution for the girl's safety. To get word out that what she found is safely in the bank, not hers." Miss Bulstrode looked at him for a moment—then pursed her lips grimly. "There must be an end to this," she said.

"Our idea is," said the Chief Constable, "that we have tried to gather my views and information. We would be glad to have you with us, M. Poirot." He added, "Inspector Kelsey. I still remember you clearly." "That was many years ago," said Inspector Kelsey. "Inspector Warlund was in charge of that case. I was an inexperienced sergeant and had a lot of thoughts about myself." "This gentleman is—for convenience, we'll call him Adam Goodman. You don't know him, M. Poirot, but I'm sure you know one of his—his—well—superior. Especially Ko," he added.

"Colonel Pikeway?" said Hercule Poirot thoughtfully. "Ah, yes, it has been quite some time since I last saw him. Is he still as sleepy-eyed as he used to be? ' he asked Adam. Adam laughed. "I think you know him pretty well, M. Poirot. I've never seen him fully sober. If I've ever seen him sober, I know he's not paying attention to what's going on in front of him." "You have a point, my friend, and a good observation." "Okay," said the Attorney General. "Let's talk business. I don't want everyone to listen to me, or to impose my opinion on others. I'm here to find out, and I'm working on this case." What one knows, what one thinks. There are many sides to everything, but one thing I should probably mention first, which I say is prompted by some clarifications given to me from - well - the various departments above ’ He looked at Poirot. ‘A heap of colorful stones, artificial gems, fine imitations—things like that—or even less precious gems, which always look like real gems. Attractive. Anyway, something a child would be very excited to find out. She might even exaggerate its value. It's quite possible, don't you think?" He stared at Hercule Poe Luo said.

"It seems quite probable to me," said Hercule Poirot. "Okay," said the Chief of Police, "because the people who brought these—well—colored stones into this country did so unwittingly and unintentionally, we don't want any problems of illegal smuggling to arise. " "And then there's the matter of our foreign policy," he went on, "but so far there hasn't been a connection between murder and jewelry or anything like that. For the time being, there's no need to do that anyway." "I agree," said Poirot, "that we must always take into account international complexities."

"Exactly," said the Superintendent of Police, "I think I am right in saying that the late ruler of Ramat was regarded as a friend of our country, and that he may have property in our country and have had his plans , and those in power at present always want their plans to be carried out. What exactly that means, I suspect, is unknown. If Ramat's new government claims a right to certain property they believe is theirs, It would be much easier if we knew nothing about these properties now in our country. But it would be untactful to say no outright now." "In diplomacy there is no frank refusal," said Hercule Poirot. "On the contrary, it is said that the matter is receiving the greatest attention, but there is no question of any nuances which the late ruler of Ramat had. things—for example, nest eggs—have not been confirmed at this time. It may still be in Ramat, it may be in the custody of a loyal friend of the late Prince Ali Yusuf, it may It has been taken abroad by five or six people, and it may also be hidden somewhere in Ramat." He shrugged, "In short, I just don't know." The police chief sighed. "Thank you. That's exactly what I meant," he went on. "Mr. Poirot, you have friends among the upper classes of this country. They have a lot of confidence in you. They may be willing to leave certain items with you in private." hand, if you have no objection." "I have no objection," said Poirot. "Let us stop here. We have more serious things to think about, don't we?" He looked around. "Perhaps you don't think so? But in the final analysis, seventy-five Or what are such numbers compared with human lives?" "Monsieur Poirot, you are right," said the prefect. "You're right every time," said Inspector Kelsey. "All we want is a murderer. We'd be glad to hear from you, Mr. Poirot. Because it's mostly a matter of guessing and guessing." , your conjectures are as good as anyone else's, and sometimes better. The whole thing is a mess of wool." "Excellent," said Poirot. "One has to take this ball of wool and pull out one of the colors we're looking for, the color of a murderer, isn't it?" "correct." "If it doesn't tire you out to repeat it, tell me everything you know so far." He settled down and listened. He listened to Kelsey, then to Adam Goodman, and then to a curt talk from the chief of police.Then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and nodded slowly. "Two murders," he said, "occurred in the same place and under almost the same circumstances. Both kidnapped a girl who was probably the central figure in the whole affair. Let us first establish why she was kidnapped." .” "I can tell you what she said herself," Kelsey said. Poirot listened carefully as he repeated the girl's words. "It doesn't make sense," he complained. "That's exactly what I thought. I actually thought she was just trying to elevate herself..." "But in fact she was still kidnapped. Why?" "There was a ransom offer," Kelsey said slowly, "but..." He paused. "But do you think this claim is nothing more than false? That it was made only to support the claim of kidnapping?" "Exactly. What was promised was not fulfilled." "So Shesta was kidnapped for other reasons. For what?" "To get her to tell—well—where those valuables are hidden?" Adam asked suspiciously. Poirot shook his head. "She doesn't know where those things are hidden," he pointed out. "At least that's clear. No, there must be a reason..." His voice became lower and lower, and he did not continue.For a moment he was silent, frowning.Then he sat up straight and asked a question. "Her knees," he said. "Have you ever noticed her knees?" Adam stared at him in surprise. "No," he said. "Why should I pay attention to her knees?" "A man has many reasons for noticing a girl's knees," said Poirot gravely. "Unfortunately, you do not." "Is there anything odd about her knees? A scar? Or something like that? I don't know. They wear stockings most of the time, and their skirts go right down to the knees." "Perhaps, in the swimming pool?" Poirot suggested with a glimmer of hope. "Never seen her in the pool," Adam said. "A scar? Or something like that?" "No, no, none of these at all. Ah, pity." He turned to the chief of police. "If you agree, I'd like to write to my old friend in Geneva, the chief of police there. I thought he might be able to help us." "Is it about her school days there?" "Yes, it's possible. You really agree? That's good. It's just a little idea of ​​mine." He paused and continued: "By the way, there's nothing in the papers about this kidnapping, right?" "Prince Ibrahim insists on not appearing in the newspapers." "But I noticed a little passage in the gossip column. It was about a certain young peripheral lady leaving school suddenly. The column implied that this was a - budding romance. If possible it had to be guarded against Not yet." "That was my idea," Adam said. "It seems like a good way of writing it." "Good idea. Let's move from kidnapping to something more serious now. Murder. Two murders at Yerba Meadow Girls' School."