Chapter 21 Chapter 20 Dialogue

"Well - I don't know what to say," said Mrs Sutcliffe, "I really don't know what to say -" She looked at Hercule Poirot with evident disgust. "Of course," she said, "Henry isn't home." The significance of this statement was somewhat ambiguous, but Hercule Poirot felt that he knew what was on her mind.She was thinking that Henry could handle such things.Henry has many international contacts.He often flies to the Inner East, to Ghana, to South America, to Geneva, and sometimes to Paris, but not often. "The whole thing," said Mrs. Sutcliffe, "is very distressing. I'm glad Jennifer is home safe with me. But, I will say," she added, showing A bit annoying: "Jennifer is really annoying. First she clamored to go to Fangcaodi, and then said that she definitely didn't like this place, saying that it was a very snobby school, not the one she wanted to go to. Kind of school, and now, because I brought her back, she's just sulking all day. It's just too bad."

"It is undeniably a very good school," said Hercule Poirot. "Many say it is the best school in England." "It used to be, I daresay," said Mrs Sutcliffe. "It will be in the future," said Hercule Poirot. "You think so?" Mrs. Sutcliffe looked at him suspiciously.His sympathetic manner gradually disarmed her.She is freed from the difficulties, responsibilities, and frustrations of dealing with her children, and there is nothing that lightens a mother's burden in life more than that.Loyalty tends to make one suffer in silence.But for something like Hercule.A foreigner like Poirot, Mrs Sutcliffe felt that there was no question of loyalty, and she had no need to restrain herself silently.Talking to him was different from talking to another girl's mother.

"The Meadows is going through an unfortunate phase," said Hercule Poirot. It was the best thing he could think of to say at the moment.He felt the insufficiency of the statement, and Mrs Sutcliffe seized upon it at once to make a fuss. "It's not just misfortune!" she said. "Two murders! A girl is kidnapped. You can't send your daughter to a school where teachers are being murdered all the time." This seems like a very reasonable point of view. "If both murders," said Poirot, "turned out to be the work of one man, and that man was caught, then things would be different, wouldn't they?"

"Er—I think so. Yes," said Mrs. Sutcliffe, puzzled. "Clim? Neil Clim. He murdered an unfortunate woman. I suppose the murderer was for the murder of a governess. I wish you would catch him, put him in jail, and kill him, because a man is only allowed to commit one murder, isn't he?—like a dog is only allowed to bite once Man—what did I say? Oh, yes, if he could be caught. Well, I guess it'd be different. Of course, there aren't many of them, are there?" "One must hope so," said Hercule Poirot. "But there was the kidnapping," said Mrs. Sutcliffe. "You don't want to send your daughter to a school where she might be kidnapped?"

"Certainly not, ma'am. I can see you've thought the whole thing through. You're so right about everything." Mrs. Sutcliffe looked slightly pleased.No one had said anything like that to her in some time.Henry just said something like "What on earth are you sending her to Fang Meadow?", while Jennifer put on a sullen face and ignored people. "I've thought about it," she said. "A lot." "Then I shouldn't make you worry about the kidnapping, ma'am. Don't spread the word (the original is in French) and let me tell you privately about the Princess Shesta incident. It wasn't really a kidnapping—people Doubt is a romance."

"You mean that naughty girl just ran off to marry someone?" "I'm keeping my mouth shut," said Hercule Poirot. "You know, people don't want any scandal. It's a private thing, don't let it out. I know you won't say anything." "Of course not," said Mrs. Sutcliffe solemnly.She looked down at the letter Poirot had brought from the Chief Constable. "I don't quite know who you are, M. Poirot. Are you what the books call you a private detective?" "I am a consultant," said Poirot proudly. This breath encouraged Mrs. Sutcliffe greatly.

"What are you going to talk to Jennifer about?" she asked. "Just to see what impression she has of what happened," said Poirot. "She is very observant, isn't she?" "I can't say that," said Mrs. Sutcliffe. "She's not at all what I would call an observant child. I mean, she's often very practical." "It's better than making things out of nothing," said Poirot. "Oh, Jennifer wouldn't do that kind of thing," said Mrs. Sutcliffe firmly.She stood up, walked towards Zhou and shouted, "Jennifer."

"I hope," she said to Poirot, when she turned back, "that you will make her understand that her father and I are all for her good." Jennifer entered the room looking sullenly at Hercule Poirot with deep suspicion. "Hello!" said Poirot. "I am an old friend of Julie Upjohn. She has come to London to see me." "Julia has been to London?" Jennifer said, slightly surprised, "Why?" "Come for my advice," said Hercule Poirot. Jennifer didn't quite believe it. "I told her my opinion," said Poirot. "She has now returned to the Meadows."

"So her Aunt Isabel didn't take her back," Jennifer said, casting an exasperated glance at her mother. Poirot looked at Mrs Sutcliffe.But for some reason, perhaps because she was counting the laundry when Poirot arrived, or perhaps there was some unspecified urgency, she got up and left the room. "There's a lot of stuff going on there, and I feel a bit uncomfortable about being out of it," Jennifer said. "What a fuss! I told my mom it was stupid. After all, no students have been murdered yet." "Have you any opinion of your own concerning the two murders?" asked Poirot.

Jennifer shook her head. "Anyone out of sorts?" she offered her opinion, and then added thoughtfully, "I think Miss Bulstrode will have to get some new teachers now." "Yes, it seems possible," said Poirot. "Miss Jennifer, a woman came and gave you a new racket to exchange for your old one, do you remember? I am interested in this person. " "I do remember," Jennifer said. "To this day I haven't found out who gave the racket. It wasn't from Aunt Gena at all." "What does this woman look like?" said Poirot. "The one who brought the racket?" Jennifer seemed to be thinking with half-closed eyes. "Well, I don't know. She's wearing a fancy, tacky dress with a little cape and a floppy hat."

"Is that so?" said Poirot. "I don't necessarily mean her dress but her face." "I think she has a lot of makeup on her face," Jennifer said blankly. "I think she's an American." "Have you seen her before?" asked Poirot. "Oh no," Jennifer said. "I don't think she's from here. She says she's here for a lunch or a cocktail party or something." Poirot looked at her thoughtfully.He found it interesting that she accepted everything that was said to her.He said gently: "But maybe she wasn't telling the truth?" "Oh," Jennifer said, "yes, I don't think so." "Are you sure you haven't seen her before? Is it possible, for example, that she was a student at school in disguise? Or a teacher at school?" "Masquerade?" Jennifer was a little puzzled. Poirot put before her the sketch of Mademoiselle Blanche which Irene Rich had drawn for him. "It's not this woman, is it?" Jennifer looked at him suspiciously. "Kind of like her—but I don't think it's her." Poirot nodded, thinking of something. There was no indication that Jennifer could make out that this was actually a sketch of Mademoiselle Blanche. "Look," Jennifer said, "I didn't really pay attention to her. She's an American, she's a stranger, and she's talking to me about rackets..." It was clear that after that, Jennifer's eyes could see nothing but the new racket. "I see," said Poirot. "Did you ever see anyone in the Meadows that you saw in Ramat?" "In Ramat?" Jennifer mused. "Oh, no—at least—I don't think I've seen one." Poirot immediately caught her slightly suspicious expression: "But you can't be sure, Miss Jennifer." "Well," Jennifer scratched her forehead, worried, "I mean, you see people all the time and they look like somebody else. You can't remember who they look like. Sometimes you see people you've seen before. but you can't remember who they are. They say to you, 'You don't remember me', which is really embarrassing because you really can't remember. I mean, you see them The faces, you seem to know, but you can't remember their names, you can't remember where you saw them." "It's a fact," said Poirot. "Yes, it's a fact. People often feel that way." He paused for a moment, then went on, touching her gently. "For example, Sheth Princess Tower, you may know her when you see her, because you must have seen her when you were in Ramat." "Oh, was she in Ramat then?" "Very likely," said Poirot, "after all she is a relation of the royal family. You may have seen her there?" "I've never seen that," Jennifer said, frowning. "She doesn't show up and run around anyway. I mean, they all wear veils or something. Although I think in Paris and Cairo they all No veil. In London, of course not." "Anyway, don't you feel at all that you are seeing people you have met before in Fangcao Field?" "No, I'm sure I don't. Of course most people look the same, and you can see them everywhere. Some people have weird faces, like Miss Richie, and that's the only kind of person you'd go for." Notice." "I take it you've seen Miss Rich somewhere before?" "I haven't really seen one. There must have been someone who looked like her. But this one was much fatter than her." "Much fatter than she," said Poirot thoughtfully. "You can't imagine Miss Richie being fat," Jennifer said, giggling. "She's very small and elegant. Anyway, there's no way Miss Richie was in Ramat. She didn't get sick last term. Come to school." "And the other girls?" asked Poirot. "Have you ever met any of these students?" "Only people I knew before," Jennifer said. "I knew one or two of them before. You know, I've only been in school for three weeks after all, and I haven't even met half of them. If I met them tomorrow, I wouldn't know most of them." "You should pay more attention to what's going on around you," said Poirot gravely. "One cannot pay attention to everything," argued Jennifer.Then she added: "If Greenfields continues, I'd love to go back. You must speak for me in front of Mama. But it's Papa who actually wants to stop me. Living in the country is such a pain in the ass. No Opportunity to improve my tennis skills." "I assure you I will do my best," said Poirot.

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