Black Coffee hp-7 Read online

  Unnoticed by any of the company, Sir Claud emerged from his study, coffee-cup in hand, and stood for a moment or two observing the group clustered around the door to the hall.

  "What an extraordinary thing," Raynor exclaimed, abandoning his attempt to open the door, and turning to face the others. "It seems to have got stuck somehow."

  Sir Claud's voice rang across the room, startling them all. "Oh, no, it's not stuck. It's locked. Locked from the outside."

  His sister rose and approached Sir Claud. She was about to speak, but he forestalled her. "It was locked by my orders, Caroline," he told her.

  With all eyes upon him, Sir Claud walked across to the coffee-table, took a lump of sugar from the bowl, and dropped it into his cup. "I have something to say to you all," he announced to the assembled company. "Richard, would you be so kind as to ring for Tredwell?"

  His son looked as though he were about to make some reply. However, after a pause he went to the fireplace and pressed a bell in the wall nearby.

  "I suggest that you all sit down," Sir Claud continued, with a gesture towards the chairs.

  Dr Carelli, with raised eyebrows, crossed the room to sit on the stool. Edward Raynor and Lucia Amory found chairs for themselves, while Richard Amory chose to stand in front of the fireplace, looking puzzled. Caroline Amory and her niece Barbara occupied the settee.

  When all were comfortably seated, Sir Claud moved the arm-chair to a position where he could most easily observe all the others. He sat.

  The door on the left opened, and Tredwell entered. "You rang, Sir Claud?"

  "Yes, Tredwell. Did you call the number I gave you?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Was the answer satisfactory?"

  "Perfectly satisfactory, sir."

  "And a car has gone to the station?"

  "Yes, sir. A car has been ordered to meet the train."

  "Very well, Tredwell," said Sir Claud. "You may lock up now."

  "Yes, sir," replied Tredwell, as he withdrew.

  After the butler had closed the door behind him, the sound of a key turning in the lock could be heard.

  "Claud," Miss Amory exclaimed, "what on earth does Tredwell think -?"

  "Tredwell is acting on my instructions, Caroline," Sir Claud interrupted sharply.

  Richard Amory addressed his father. "May we ask the meaning of all this?" he inquired coldly.

  "I am about to explain," replied Sir Claud. "Please listen to me calmly, all of you. To begin with, as you now realize, those two doors -" he gestured towards the two doors on the hall side of the library – "are locked on the outside. From my study next door, there is no way out except through this room. The French windows in this room are locked." Swivelling around in his seat to Carelli, he explained, as though in parenthesis, "Locked, in fact, by a patent device of my own, which my family knows of, but which they do not know how to immobilize." Again addressing everyone, Sir Claud continued, "This place is a rat-trap." He looked at his watch. "It is now ten minutes to nine. At a few minutes past nine, the rat-catcher will arrive."

  "The rat-catcher?" Richard Amory's face was a study in perplexity. "What rat-catcher?"

  "A detective," explained the famous scientist drily as he sipped his coffee.

  Chapter 5

  Consternation greeted Sir Claud's announcement.

  Lucia uttered a low cry, and her husband stared at her intently. Miss Amory gave a shriek, Barbara exclaimed "Crikey!" and Edward Raynor contributed an ineffectual "Oh, I say, Sir Claud!" Only Dr Carelli seemed unaffected.

  Sir Claud settled in his arm-chair, holding his coffee-cup in his right hand and the saucer in his left. "I seem to have made my little effect," he observed with satisfaction.

  Finishing his coffee, he set the cup and saucer down on the table with a grimace. "The coffee is unusually bitter this evening," he complained.

  His sister's countenance registered a certain annoyance at the aspersion cast on the coffee, which she took as a direct criticism of her housekeeping. She was about to say something, when Richard Amory spoke. "What detective?" he asked his father.

  "His name is Hercule Poirot," replied Sir Claud. "He is a Belgian."

  "But why?" Richard persisted. "Why did you send for him?"

  "A leading question," said his father, with an unpleasantly grim smile. "Now we come to the point. For some time past, as most of you know, I have been engaged in atomic research. I have made a discovery of a new explosive. Its force is such that everything hitherto attempted in that line will be mere child's play beside it. Most of this you know already -"

  Carelli got to his feet quickly. "I did not know," he exclaimed eagerly. "I am much interested to hear of this."

  "Indeed, Dr Carelli?" Sir Claud invested the conventionally meaningless phrase with a curious significance, and Carelli, in some embarrassment, resumed his seat.

  "As I was saying," Sir Claud continued, "the force of Amorite, as I call it, is such that where we have hitherto killed by thousands, we can now kill by hundreds of thousands."

  "How horrible," exclaimed Lucia, with a shudder.

  "My dear Lucia -" her father-in-law smiled thinly at her as he spoke – "the truth is never horrible, only interesting."

  "But why -" asked Richard, "are you telling us all this?"

  "Because I have had occasion for some time to believe that a member of this household was attempting to steal the Amorite formula. I had asked Monsieur Poirot to join us tomorrow for the weekend, so that he could take the formula back to London with him on Monday, and deliver it personally to an official at the Ministry of Defence."

  "But, Claud, that's absurd. Indeed, it's highly offensive to all of us," Caroline Amory expostulated. "You can't seriously suspect -"

  "I have not finished, Caroline," her brother interrupted. "And I assure you there is nothing absurd about what I am saying. I repeat, I had invited Hercule Poirot to join us tomorrow, but I have had to change my plans and ask Monsieur Poirot to hurry down here from London this evening. I have taken this step because -"

  Sir Claud paused. When he resumed speaking, it was more slowly, and with a much more deliberate emphasis.

  "Because," he repeated, as his glance swept around the assembled company, "the formula, written on an ordinary sheet of notepaper and enclosed in a long envelope, was stolen from the safe in my study sometime before dinner this evening. It was stolen by someone in this room!"

  A chorus of shocked exclamations greeted the eminent scientist's announcement. Then everyone began to speak at once.

  "Stolen formula?" Caroline Amory began.

  "What? From the safe? Impossible!" Edward Raynor exclaimed.

  The babble of voices did not include that of Dr Carelli, who remained seated, with a thoughtful expression on his face. The others, however, were silenced only when Sir Claud raised his voice and continued.

  "I am in the habit of being certain of my facts," he assured his hearers. "At twenty minutes past seven exactly, I placed the formula in the safe. As I left the study, Raynor here entered it."

  Blushing either from embarrassment or from anger, the secretary began, "Sir Claud, really, I must protest -"

  Sir Claud raised a hand to silence him. "Raynor remained in the study," he went on, "and was still there, working, when Dr Carelli appeared at the door. After greeting him, Raynor left Carelli alone in the study while he went to let Lucia know -"

  "I protest – I -" Carelli began, but again Sir Claud raised his hand for silence, and continued his narrative. "Raynor, however," he said, "did not get further than the door of this room, where he met my sister Caroline, with Barbara. The three of them remained in this room, and Dr Carelli joined them. Caroline and Barbara were the only two members of the party who did not enter the study."

  Barbara glanced at her aunt, and then addressed Sir Claud. "I'm afraid your information about our movements isn't quite correct, Uncle Claud," she said. "I can't be excluded from your list of suspects. Do you remember, Aunt Caroline? You sent
me into the study to look for a knitting needle you said you'd mislaid. You wondered if it might be in there."

  Ignoring his niece's interruption, the scientist continued. "Richard came down next. He strolled into the study by himself and remained there for some minutes."

  "My God!" Richard exclaimed. "Really, Father, you surely don't suspect that I'd steal your wretched formula, do you?"

  Looking directly at his son, Sir Claud replied meaningfully, "That piece of paper was worth a great deal of money."

  "I see." His son regarded him steadily. "And I'm in debt. That's what you mean, isn't it?"

  Sir Claud made no reply to him. His gaze sweeping over the others, he continued. "As I was saying, Richard remained in the study for some minutes. He reappeared in this room just as Lucia came in. When dinner was announced, a few minutes later, Lucia was no longer with us. I found her in the study, standing by the safe."

  "Father!" exclaimed Richard, moving to his wife and putting an arm protectively about her.

  "I repeat, standing by the safe," Sir Claud insisted. "She seemed very much agitated, and when I asked what was the matter she told me she felt unwell. I suggested that a glass of wine might be good for her. She assured me, however, that she was quite all right again, and then left me to join the others. Instead of following Lucia immediately to the dining-room, I remained behind in my study. I don't know why, but some instinct urged me to look in the safe. The envelope with the formula in it had disappeared."

  Chapter 6

  There was a pause. No one spoke. The immense seriousness of the situation appeared to be dawning on everyone. Then Richard asked, "How have you assembled this information about our movements, Father?"

  "By taking thought, of course," Sir Claud replied. "By observation and deduction. By the evidence of my own eyes, and by what I learned from questioning Tredwell."

  "I notice you don't include Tredwell or any of the other servants among your suspects, Claud," Caroline Amory observed tartly. "Only your family."

  "My family – and our guest," her brother corrected her.

  "That is so, Caroline. I have established to my own satisfaction that neither Tredwell nor any of the domestics were in the study between the time I placed the formula in the safe and the time I opened the safe again to find it missing."

  He looked at each of them in turn, before adding, "I hope the position is clear to you all. Whoever took the formula must still have it. Since we returned here from dinner, the dining-room has been thoroughly searched. Tredwell would have informed me if the piece of paper had been found hidden there. And, as you now realize, I have seen to it that no one has had the opportunity to leave this room."

  For some moments there was a tense silence, broken only when Dr Carelli asked politely, "Is it your suggestion, then, Sir Claud, that we should all be searched?"

  "That is not my suggestion," replied Sir Claud, consulting his watch. "It is now two minutes to nine. Hercule Poirot will have arrived at Market Cleve, where he is being met. At nine o'clock precisely. Tredwell has orders to switch off the lights from the main switch in the basement. We shall be in complete darkness in this room for one minute, and one minute only. When the lights go on again, matters will be out of my hands. Hercule Poirot will be here shortly, and he will be in charge of the case. But if, under cover of darkness, the formula is placed here -" and Sir Claud slapped his hand down on the table – "then I shall inform Monsieur Poirot that I had made a mistake and that I have no need of his services."

  "That's an outrageous suggestion," Richard declared heatedly. He looked around at the others. "I say we should all be searched. I'm certainly willing."

  "So am I, of course," Edward Raynor made haste to announce.

  Richard Amory looked pointedly at Dr Carelli. The Italian smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "And I."

  Richard's glance moved to his aunt. "Very well, if we must, we must," Miss Amory grumbled.

  "Lucia?" Richard asked, turning to his wife.

  "No, no, Richard," Lucia replied breathily. "Your father's plan is best."

  Richard looked at her in silence for a moment.

  "Well, Richard?" queried Sir Claud.

  A heavy sigh was at first his only reply, and then, "Very well, I agree." He looked at his cousin Barbara, who gave a gesture of assent.

  Sir Claud leaned back in his chair wearily, and spoke in a slow, dragging voice. "The taste of that coffee is still in my mouth," he said, and then yawned.

  The clock on the mantelpiece began to strike, and there was complete silence as all turned to listen. Sir Claud turned slowly in his chair and looked steadily at his son, Richard. On the last stroke of nine, the lights suddenly went out and the room was plunged into darkness.

  There were a few gasps, and some stifled exclamations from the women, and then Miss Amory's voice rang out clearly. "I don't care for this at all."

  "Do be quiet, Aunt Caroline," Barbara ordered her. "I'm trying to listen."

  For a few seconds there was absolute silence, followed by the sounds of heavy breathing, and then a rustling of paper. Silence again, before they all heard a kind of metallic clink, the sound of something tearing, and a loud bang, which might have been a chair being knocked over.

  Suddenly, Lucia screamed. "Sir Claud! Sir Claud! I can't bear it. I must have light. Somebody, please!"

  The room remained in darkness. There was a sharp intake of breath, and then a loud knock at the door leading to the hall. Lucia screamed again. As though in response, the lights suddenly came on again.

  Richard was now standing by the door, apparently unable to decide whether or not to attempt to open it. Edward Raynor was on his feet by his chair, which had overturned. Lucia lay back in her chair, as though about to faint.

  Sir Claud sat absolutely still in his arm-chair, with his eyes closed. His secretary suddenly pointed to the table beside his employer. "Look," he exclaimed. "The formula."

  On the table beside Sir Claud was a long envelope of the type he had earlier described.

  "Thank God!" cried Lucia. "Thank God!"

  There was another knock at the door, which now opened slowly. Everyone's attention was fixed on the doorway as Tredwell ushered in a stranger and then withdrew.

  The assembled company stared at the stranger.

  What they saw was an extraordinary-looking little man, hardly more than five feet four inches in height, who carried himself with great dignity. His head was exactly the shape of an egg, and he carried it at a slight angle, like an inquiring terrier. His moustache was distinctly stiff and military. He was very neatly dressed.

  "Hercule Poirot, at your service," said the stranger, and bowed.

  Richard Amory held out a hand. "Monsieur Poirot," he said as they shook hands.

  "Sir Claud?" asked Poirot. "Ah, no, you are too young, of course. You are his son, perhaps?" He moved past Richard into the center of the room. Behind him, another man, tall, middle-aged and of military bearing, had unobtrusively entered. As he moved to Poirot's side, the detective announced, "My colleague, Captain Hastings."

  "What a delightful room," Hastings observed as he shook hands with Richard Amory.

  Richard turned back to Poirot. "I'm sorry, Monsieur Poirot," he said, "but I fear we have brought you down here under a misapprehension. The need for your services has passed."

  "Indeed?" replied Poirot.

  "Yes, I'm sorry," Richard continued. "It's too bad, dragging you all the way down here from London. Of course, your fee – and expenses – I mean – er, that'll be all right, of course -"

  "I comprehend perfectly," said Poirot, "but for the moment it is neither my fee nor my expenses which interests me."

  "No? Then what – er -?"

  "What does interest me, Mr Amory? I will tell you. It is just a little point, of no consequence, of course. But it was your father who sent for me to come. Why is it not he who tells me to go?"

  "Oh, of course. I'm sorry," said Richard, turning towards Sir Claud. "Father, woul
d you please tell Monsieur Poirot that we no longer have any need of his services?"

  Sir Claud did not answer.

  "Father!" Richard exclaimed, moving quickly to Sir Claud's arm-chair. He bent over his father, and then turned around wildly. "Dr Carelli," he called.

  Miss Amory rose, white-faced. Carelli swiftly crossed to Sir Claud and felt his pulse. Frowning, he placed his hand over Sir Claud's heart, and then shook his head.

  Poirot moved slowly to the arm-chair and stood looking down at the motionless body of the scientist. "Yes – I fear -" he murmured, as though to himself, "I very much fear -"

  "What do you fear?" asked Barbara, moving towards him.

  Poirot looked at her. "I fear that Sir Claud has sent for me too late, mademoiselle."

  Consternation followed Hercule Poirot's statement. Dr Carelli continued his examination of Sir Claud for a few moments before straightening himself and turning to the others. Addressing Richard Amory, "I am afraid your father is dead," he confirmed.

  Richard stared at him in disbelief, as though he were unable to take the Italian doctor's words in. Then, "My God – what was it? Heart failure?" he asked.

  "I – I suppose so," replied Carelli somewhat doubtfully.

  Barbara moved to her aunt to comfort her, for Miss Amory seemed about to faint. Edward Raynor joined them, helping to support Miss Amory, and whispering to Barbara as he did so, "I suppose that fellow is a real doctor?"

  "Yes, but only an Italian one," Barbara murmured in reply, as between them they settled Miss Amory into a chair. Overhearing Barbara's remark, Poirot shook his head energetically. Then, stroking his luxuriant moustache with exquisite care, he smiled as he commented softly, "Me, I am a detective – but only a Belgian one. Nevertheless, madame, we foreigners do arrive at the correct answer occasionally."

  Barbara had the grace to look at least a trifle embarrassed. She and Raynor remained in conversation for a few moments, but then Lucia approached Poirot, taking his arm and drawing him aside from the others.