Chapter 5 chapter Five

Hercule Poirot looked over the gate into Pinecrown House, a lovely little house of the new style, well built.Hercule Poirot was a little out of breath. The neat little house before him lived up to its name.It is built on the top of the mountain, and a few pine trees are sparsely planted on the top of the mountain.There was a well-arranged small garden, and a tall old man pushed a tin watering can along the road to water it. Superintendent Spence, who had previously been only gray at the temples, was now full of silver hair.His waistline has not shrunk.He stopped what he was doing and looked at the guests at the door.Hercule Poirot stood motionless.

"By God," said Superintendent Spence, "it must be him, how could he come, but it is he, yes, it must be, Hercule Poirot, and I shall not be mistaken to the end of my life. " "Aha," cried Hercule Poirot, "I am delighted that you recognize me." "Blessings on your beard," Spence laughed. He put down the jug and went to the gate. "Wicked poisonous weed," he said, "what brought you here?" "The wind has carried me to many places," replied Hercule Poirot, "and it has carried you to me long, long ago. Murder."

"I've had nothing to do with murder," Spence said, "except for 'murder' weed. That's what I do now. Use a lawnmower every day. It's not as easy as you think, and there's always something wrong with it. , usually the weather. Not too wet, not too dry, and so on, how do you know to come here to see me?" he asked, opening the door, and Poirot entered. "You sent me a Christmas card with your new address on it." "Oh, yes, I did. You see, I'm quite old-fashioned. I always like to send cards to old friends at Christmas." "I like it very much," replied Poirot.

Spence sighed; "I'm old." "We are not young anymore." "You don't have a lot of gray hair," Spence said. "I have dyed it," replied Hercule Poirot. "There is no need to appear in public with white hair, unless you want to." "Well, I don't think the dark hair suits me," Spence said. "I also think," replied Poirot, "that having silver hair makes you more prestigious and distinguished." "What an outstanding person I am." "I think so. Why are you living in Woodley New Village?"

"I actually came here to 'join up' with a younger sister. Her husband passed away and the children were all married and living overseas, one in Australia and one in South Africa. I moved here. Pensions are not so good these days No, but it's much more comfortable for two people to live together, come, sit down and talk." He led Poirot out onto the little glassed-in balcony, where some chairs and a table or two were placed. "What?" Spence asked. "I'm afraid no hallucinogens, no black currant or rosehip syrup or any of your patented products. Would you like beer? How about I get Elspeth to make it for you?" A cup of tea? How about I get you a mix or a Coke. Cocoa? My sister Elspeth likes cocoa."

"Thank you very much. I'll just have a mix. Ginger beer and beer? Right?" "That's right." He went back into the house and quickly fetched two large glasses. "I'll have some too," he said. He moved a chair to the table and sat down, and put the two glasses of wine in front of him and Poirot. "What were you talking about?" he said, raising his glass. "There's another case. I don't care about any more cases. It's the one you're talking about. I guess you're going for it." Come, because I can't recall any other recent case, and I don't like the particular form of this case."

"Yes. I knew you wouldn't like it." "Are we talking about the kid whose head was put in the bucket?" "Yes," said Poirot, "that is the case I am talking about." "I don't understand why you came to me," Spence said. "I have nothing to do with the police today. I quit many years ago." "Once a policeman," said Hercule Poirot, "always a policeman. That is to say, in addition to being an ordinary person, you will always see things from the standpoint of a policeman, I tell you. I have personally experienced this. I also worked as a policeman in my motherland at first.”

"Yeah, that's right, I remember you telling me. Well, I think there's a certain bias in one's opinion, but I haven't had much real dealings with them in a long time." "But it is said," said Poirot, "that you have quite a few friends in your old trade. You can find out what they think, what they doubt, and what they really know." Spence sighed. "People know too much," he said, "and that's a big problem in today's society. If there's a crime and there's a common method of doing it, it means the police involved in the case knew it well enough to commit it. They don’t tell the newspaper reporters, they investigate themselves, and they figure out what’s going on, but whether they’re going to go ahead — it’s not that simple, though.”

"You mean wives, girlfriends, and the like?" "Partially true. In the end, maybe they can all get married. Sometimes a year or two goes by. I want to make a point, Poirot. In general, more girls nowadays are not married to decent people. I am the same as we were at that time. Compare." Hercule Poirot twisted his beard in thought. "Yes," he replied, "I think it may be, and I suspect, as you say, that girls have always been somewhat partial to bad boys, but in the past they had been guarded and watched over." "Exactly. People look after them, their mothers watch over them, aunts and sisters watch over them, brothers and sisters know everything, and their fathers have no objection to throwing an unsuitable young man out of the house." Also, of course, there have been cases where girls elope with some bad guy before, and now they don't even have to elope. Mothers have no idea who their daughters go out with, and fathers never tell who their daughters go out with Well, the brothers know but they're thinking more of 'make her a fool'. If the parents don't approve, the lovers can go to magistrates and try to get permission to marry, after which the known villain goes back to his old business and tells everyone , including her own wife fully proving that she is a villain, which is even worse! But love is love, and a girl does not want to admit that her favorite man has some bad habits, criminal tendencies, etc., she will lie for him, Reversing black and white, and so on. Yes, it's hard. I mean, it's hard for us. Oh, what's the use of talking about the past being better than the present. Maybe we'll just have to think about it. But, Poirot, How did you get into these things?

This is not your jurisdiction, is it?I always thought you lived in London.You used to live there when I knew you. " "I still live in London. I got involved in the case at the invitation of a friend, Mrs. Oliver. Do you remember Mrs. Oliver?" Spence looked up and closed his eyes as if remembering. "Mrs. Oliver? Can't remember." "She's a writer. She writes detective stories. Come to think of it, you met her when you persuaded me to investigate Mrs. McGinty's murder. You don't forget Mrs. McGinty, do you?" "My God, how could it be, but it was a long time ago. You did me a great favor, Poirot, you did me a great favor at that time, and you did not disappoint me when I turned to you."

"I was flattered then flattered that you should come to me for advice," said Poirot. "I must say that once or twice I despaired that the man we had to protect - was at that time Saved his life (how many years have passed) - is a very difficult man, does nothing to help himself, very typical." "Married the girl, huh? The timid one. Not the hot girl with the blonde hair, and don't know how they get on. Ever hear?" "No," replied Poirot, "I expect to be well off." "I don't know what she saw in him." "It's hard to say," replied Poirot, "but that's the greatest consolation. A man, no matter how unattractive he may be, is always attractive to some woman. It can only be said, or hoped, that they Live happily married." "It's hard to say if I have to live with my mother. Who knows if I can live happily ever after." "Yes, indeed," said Poirot, "or live with the stepfather," he added. "Look," Spence said, "we're talking about the old days again. It's the old stuff. I've always thought that guy (can't remember the name now) was the undertaker. His face, the way he looked That's the perfect fit. That's probably what it's for, and the girl has some money, doesn't she? Yeah, he'd make a pretty good undertaker, and I can see him all in black, waiting for an order. Maybe He'll also gush about what kind of elm (or teak or something) to use for coffins, but he'll never get insurance for good sales, and no real estate, ok, stop repeating It's gone." He suddenly changed the subject, "Mrs. Oliver, Ariadne Oliver, Apple, is that why she got involved in the case? The poor child had her head stuck in a floating apple She was at the party too, right? Is that what got her interested?" "I don't think she was interested solely in connection with the Apple," replied Poirot, "but she was there." "You mean her home is here?" "No, her family doesn't live here. She's staying with a friend. A Mrs. Butler." "Butler? Oh, I know her. She's a widow not far below the church, her husband's an aviator. Has a daughter who's pretty good and polite. Mrs. Butler's pretty charming, isn't she?" "I haven't met her yet, but, yes, I find her very attractive." "Then what does it matter to you, Poirot? You were not there?" "No, I'm not here. Mrs. Oliver has come to see me in London. She's very disturbed, rather disturbed. She wants me to do something." A slight smile crept across Superintendent Spence's face. "I see. It's strikingly similar. I went to you too, because I hoped you could do something." "And I have gone a step further," said Poirot. "I have come to you again." "Because you want me to do something? Tell you, I can't help you with anything." "Oh no, it can help. You can tell me about these people: the people who live here, the people who go to the party, the parents of the children who go to the party, and you can tell me about the teachers at this school, the lawyers And Dr. At a party, someone tricks a child into kneeling on the ground, maybe laughing and saying: I teach you the best way to hold an apple with your teeth, I know how to do it, and then he or she is that person Put one hand on the girl's head, the struggle won't be very long, and there won't be much noise." "It's vicious," Spence said, "and I thought to myself when I heard it, what do you want to know? I've been here for a year. My sister's been here longer—two or three years, this place Not too many people, not very regular, come and go, the husbands either work in Manchester or somewhere in Greater Canning or around. Their children go to school locally, and if the husband changes jobs, they may I moved to another place, the staff here is not fixed, some people have lived for a long time, like Miss Emlyn (teacher), and Doctor Ferguson, etc. But generally speaking, there have been changes.” Hercule Poirot said: "I agree with you very much. It is very vicious and despicable, but I want to ask you whether there are some very despicable people here." "Yeah," replied Spence, "that's the first thing that comes to mind, isn't it, and the next step is to ask if there are such vicious young men. Who would want to strangle, drown, or otherwise remove What about losing a girl who was only thirteen years old? No signs of sexual assault or anything like that (the first thing people would ask), there are quite a few of that happening in every small town or village these days. I can't help it Also, it seems that the crime rate is much higher than when I was young. There were also people with nerve stimulation back then, but not as many as now. Probably a lot of people who should have been under strict care were released. Our madhouse is overcrowded, So the doctors said... Let him (or her) live a normal life and go back to living with relatives. , and so on, and then these vicious people, you can also call them poor people, tortured people (it doesn't matter what they call them), and they are impulsive again.And a young woman out for a walk, either finds a dead body in a pit, or she foolishly gets into someone else's car, and some kids don't come home after school because they ride in a stranger's car, and despite repeated warnings It's not wrong, but it's not, there are too many such things nowadays. " "Does the case we speak of fall into this category?" "Hey, that's the first question people ask," Spence said. "Let's just say, someone at the party just got impulsive. Maybe he's got a previous conviction, maybe he hasn't. Maybe someone's told the kids somewhere The child has attacked. As far as I know, no one has ever had that experience, I mean publicized, well known, and there were two guys at the party who fit that age. Nicklas, Ransom was very handsome, Seventeen or eighteen years old, he is more suitable for his age, is he from the east coast or something, looks normal, but who knows? The other is Desmond, who was imprisoned once because of mental problems , but I don't want to emphasize how much it matters, someone at the party should have done it, although I think anyone could come in from the outside, the door is usually unlocked when the party is open. The side door may be open, or it may be The side french windows were open, and maybe some abnormal person sneaked in to watch the fun. A child going to a party, would she agree to play apple biting with an unfamiliar person? I think that would be a great risk, but, Poirot, you have not explained why you were involved. You said it was because of Mrs. Oliver, and did she have any bold assumptions?" "Not exactly a bold hypothesis," replied Poirot, "she is fond of bold imaginations. Perhaps, some completely improbable hypotheses, but this time she only heard the girl say it with her own ears. " "Did you hear that, Joyce?" "yes." Spence leaned forward and looked at Poirot, anxious to know what it was. "I'll tell you," said Poirot. He then succinctly repeated what Mrs. Oliver had said. "I see," Spence said, twirling his mustache. "That girl said it, didn't she? Said she saw a murder. Did she say when or how it was done?" "No," replied Poirot. "Why are you talking about it all of a sudden?" "I think it started with something about the murders in Mrs. Oliver's book, like a kid saying that there weren't enough bloody scenes in her book, and there weren't enough dead bodies. Then Joyce took up the subject and said , she witnessed a murder." "Are you bragging? How did you leave such an impression on me?" "That's the impression left on Mrs. Oliver. Yes, she's bragging." "It's unlikely to be true." "Yes, it can't be true at all," agreed Poirot. "Children tend to exaggerate or say such nonsense when they want to get attention or to achieve a certain effect, but on the other hand, it may be true, you don't think so ?" "I don't know," said Poirot, "that a child who boasts of having witnessed a murder dies only a few hours later. We have to admit that there is reason (perhaps a little absurdly) to believe it to be true, There may be a causal relationship. If so, the man was decisive and did not hesitate." "Exactly," Spence said. "Do you know exactly how many people were there when the girl talked about the murder?" "Mrs. Oliver only said there were about fourteen or five people, maybe more than that. Four or five children, and five or six helping adults, but it's all up to you for accurate information." "Oh, it's very simple," Spence said. "I don't know yet, but it's easy to find out from the locals. As for the party that day, I already know a lot. Generally speaking, it was mainly women. Yes, the fathers don't usually come to the kids' evenings, but sometimes they go to see them, or pick them up. Dr. Ferguson is there, and the priest is there. The other ones are the mothers, aunts, social workers . and two school teachers. Yes, I can give you a list—including about fourteen children, the youngest not more than ten years old—not yet juveniles.” "I suppose you'll figure out which of them are probable too?" asked Poirot. "However, if the situation you consider is true, it will not be easy." "Are you saying that you are no longer focusing on who might have committed a sexual assault, but are looking for someone who has killed someone and got away with it, never expected to be found, when Shocked." "God forbid, if only I could figure out who did it. Wherever the emphasis is," Spence said, "I shouldn't be talking about someone in this area who might be a murderer and kill someone." There was nothing special about the way the criminal behaved." "People who are considered likely to commit crimes are everywhere," replied Poirot. "It is not uncommon to see murderers who do not look like murderers, but they are still murderers. Such people are not easy to be suspected, and they are seldom left behind." No matter what clues, once he learned that there were people who witnessed his crime, he was of course extremely shocked." "Why didn't Joyce say it? I wondered, was someone trying to get her to keep silent? It was a bit too risky." "No," replied Poirot. "What I hear from Mrs. Oliver is that she didn't realize it was murder when she saw it." "Oh, that's just not possible," Spence said. "Not necessarily," replied Poirot. "The speaker is a thirteen-year-old girl, and she is remembering something that happened in the past. They don't know exactly when. Maybe three or four years ago, she saw something. It happened and didn't realize what it meant, many scenarios are possible, my dear, such as a very strange car accident, the driver drove the car straight towards a person, and the person was injured or killed. The child may not realize that it was deliberate murder, but a year or two later hearing someone say a certain sentence, or what she saw and heard may suddenly open the door of her memory, and she may think: "Zhang San, Li 4 or 5 did it on purpose, 'Maybe it's not just an accident, it's actually a murder.' There are many other possibilities, some of which I admit have been brought up by my friend Mrs. Oliver , for just one thing, she can easily think of a hundred thousand different explanations, most of which are unlikely, but each of which is somewhat similar. Drugging someone's tea or something Yes; maybe pushing someone in a dangerous spot, and there are no cliffs in this area, which is not a pity for a whimsical person. Yes, I think there may be multiple possibilities, maybe it is Some murder story she's watching reminds her of an accident, maybe an accident that's stuck with her, and when she reads that story she might say, 'Oh, that might be the case, I don't know Did he (or she) do it on purpose?' Yes, there are quite a few possibilities." "You're here to investigate the possibilities?" "That is what everyone wants, don't you think?" said Poirot. "Ah, we're in the public interest." "You can at least give me some information," said Poirot. "You know the inhabitants." "I'll do my best," Spence said, "and I'll urge Elspeth to help. There's nothing she doesn't know about these people."