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they admire it in themselves. But their training

  prevents them from saying so. Me, I am not like

  that. The talents that I possess--I would salute

  them in another. As it happens, in my own particular

  line, there is no one to touch me. C'est dornrnage,t As it is, I admit freely and without the hypocrisy

  that I am a great man. I have the order,

  the method and the psychology in an unusual de

  34

  Agatha Christie

  gree. I am, ir; fact, Hercule Poirot! Why should I

  turn red and stammer and mutter into my chin

  that really I am very stupid9. It would not be

  true."

  "There is certainly only one Hercule Poirot," I

  agreed--not without a spice of malice, of which,

  fortunately, Poirot remained quite oblivious.

  Lady Chatterton was one of Poirot's most ar-dent

  admirers. Starting from the mysterious con-duct

  of a Pekingese, he had unraveled a chain

  which led to a noted burglar and housebreaker.

  Lady Chatterton had been loud in his praises ever

  since.

  To see Poirot at a party was a great sight. His

  faultless evening clothes, the exquisite set of his

  white tie, the exact symmetry of his hair parting,

  the sheen of pomade on his hair, and the tortured

  splendor of his famous mustaches--all combined

  to paint the perfect picture of an inveterate dandy.

  It was hard, at these moments, to take the little

  man seriously.

  It was about half-past eleven when Lady Chat-terton,

  bearing down upon us, whisked Poirot

  neatly out of an admiring group, and carried him

  off--I need hardly say, with myself in tow.

  "I want you to go into my little room upstairs,"

  said Lady Chatterton rather breathlessly as soon

  as she was out of earshot of her other guests.

  "You know where it is, M. Poirot. You'll find

  someone there who needs your help very badly--and

  you will help her, I know. She's one of my

  dearest friends--so don't say no."

  Energetically leading the way as she talked,

  Lady Chatterton flung open a door, exclaiming

  THE MYSTERY OF THE I,GD.D CHEST 35

  as she 'did so, "I've got him, Maruerita darling.

  And he'll do anything you want. You ¢i!! help

  Mrs. Clayton, won't you, M. Poirct?"

  And taking the answer for grated, she with-drew

  with the same energy that characterized all

  her movements.

  Mrs. Clayton had been sitting in a chair by

  the window. She rose now and cme toward us.

  Dressed in deep mourning, the dull black showed

  up her fair coloring. She was a singularly lovely

  woman, and there was about her a aimple childlike

  candor which made her charm quit irresistible.

  "Alice Chatterton is so kind," she said. "She

  arranged this. She said you would help me, M.

  Poirot. Of course I don't know whether you will

  or not--but I hope you will."

  She had held out her hand and P oirot had taken

  it. He held it now for a moment cr two while he

  stood scrutinizing her closely. There was nothing

  ill-bred in his manner of doing it. It was more the

  kind but searching look that a fanaous consultant

  gives a new patient as the latter is shered into his

  presence.

  "Are you ,Jure, madame," he said at last, "that

  I can help you?"

  "Alice says so."

  "Yes, but I am asking you, madame."

  A little flush rose to her cheeks.

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "What is it, madame, that you want me to do?"

  "You--you--know who I am?" she asked.

  "Assuredly."

  "Then you can guess what it is I am asking

  you to do, M. Poirot--Captain Hastings"--I was

  36

  Agatha Christie

  gratified that she realized my identity--"Major

  Rich did not kill my husband."

  "Why not?"

  "I beg your pardon?"

  POirot smiled at her slight discomfiture.

  "I said, 'Why not?' "he repeated.

  "I'm not sure that I understand."

  "Yet it is very simple. The police--the lawyers

  --they will all ask the same question: Why did

  Major Rich kill M. Clayton? I ask the opposite. I

  ask you, madame, why did Major Rich not kill

  Major Clayton?"

  "You mean--why I'm so sure? Well, but I

  know. I know Major Rich so well."

  "You know Major Rich so well," repeated

  Poirot tonelessly.

  The color flamed into her cheeks.

  "Yes, that's what they'll say--what they'll

  think! Oh, I know!"

  "C'est vrai. That is what they will ask you

  about--how well you knew Major Rich. Perhaps

  you will speak the truth, perhaps you will lie. It is

  very necessary for a woman to lie sometimes.

  Women must defend themselves--and the lie, it is

  a good weapon. But there are three people, ma-dame,

  to whom a woman should speak the truth.

  To her father confessor, to her hairdresser and to

  her private detective--if she trusts him. Do you

  trust me, madame?"

  Marguerita Clayton drew a deep breath. "Yes,"

  she said. "I do. I must," she added rather child-ishly.

  "Then, how well do you know Major Rich?"

  THE MYSTERY OF THE BAGDAD CHEST 37

  She looked at him for a moment in silence, then

  she raised her chin defiantly.

  "I will answer your question. I loved Jack from

  the first moment I saw him--two years ago. Lately I think--I believe--he has come to love me. But he

  has never said so."

  "£patant.t'' said Poirot. "You have saved me a

  good quarter of an hour by coming to the point

  without beating the bush. You have the good

  sense. Now your husband--did he suspect your

  feelings?"

  "I don't know," Said Marguerita slowly. "I

  thoughtlately--that he might. His manner has

  been different But

  that may have been merely

  my

  fancy."

  "Nobody

  else knew?"

  "I do not think so."

  "And--pardon

  me, madame--you did not love your

  husband?"

  There

  were, I think, very few women who we

  ld have answered that question as simply

  as this woman did. They would have tried to

  explain their

  feelings.

  Maruerita Clayton said

  quite simply: "No." "Bien. Now we know where

  we are. According to you, madame, Major Rich did

  not kill your husband, but you realize that

  all the evidence points to his having done so.

  Are you aware,

  privately, of any flaw

  in that evidence?"

  "No.

  I know nothing."

  "When did your husband first

  inform you of his

  visit to Scotland?"

  "Just after lunch. He said it was

  a

  bore,

  but

  38

  Agatha Christie

  he'd have to go. Something to do with land values,

  he said it was."<
br />
  "And after that?"

  "He went out--to his club, I think. I--I didn't

  see him again."

  "Now as to Major Rich--what was his manner

  that evening? Just as usual?"

  "Yes, I think so."

  "You are not sure?"

  Marguerita wrinkled her brows.

  "He wasma little constrained. With me--not

  with the others. But I thought I knew why that

  was. You understand? I am sure the constraint

  or--or--absentmindedness perhaps describes it

  better--had nothing to do with Edward. He was

  surprised to hear that Edward had gone to Scot-land,

  but not unduly so."

  "And nothing else unusual occurs to you in

  connection with that evening?"

  Marguerita thought.

  "No, nothing whatever."

  "You--noticed the chest?"

  She shook her head with a little shiver.

  "I don't even remember it--or what it was like.

  We played poker most of the evening."

  "Who won?"

  "Major Rich. I had very bad luck, and so did

  Major Curtiss. The Spences won a little, but

  Major Rich was the chief winner."

  "The party broke up--when?"

  "About half-past twelve, I think. We all left

  together."

  "Ah!"

  THE MYSTERY OF THE BAGDAD CHEST

  39

  Poirot remained silent, lost in thought.

  "I wish I could be more helpful to you," said

  Mrs. Clayton. "I seem to be able to tell you so

  little."

  "About the present--yes. What about the past,

  madame?"

  "The past?"

  "Yes. Have there not been incidents?"

  She flushed.

  "You mean that dreadful little man who shot

  himself. It wasn't my fault, M. Poirot. Indeed it

  wasn't."

  "It was not precisely of that incident that I was

  thinking."

  "That ridiculous due!? But Italians do fight

  duels. I was so thankful the man wasn't killed."

  "It must have been a relief to you," agreed

  Poirot gravely.

  She was looking at him doubtfully. He rose and

  took her hand in his.

  "I shall not fight a duel for you, madame," he

  said. "But I will do what you have asked me. I will

  discover the truth. And let us hope that your in-stincts

  are correct--that the truth will help and not

  harm you."

  Our first interview was with Major Curtiss. He

  was a man of about forty, of soldierly build, with

  very dark hair and a bronzed face. He had known

  the Claytons for some years and Major Rich also.

  He confirmed the press reports.

  Clayton and he had had a drink together at the

  club just before half-past seven, and Clayton had

  then announced his intention of looking in on

  40

  Agath Christie

  Major Rich on lais waYlo Euston.

  "What was Mr. Claton's'manner? Was he de-pressed

  or cheerful?"

  The major C°nsiderd. He was a slow-spoken

  man.

  "Seemed in fairly g%d spirits," he said at last.

  "He said nothing bout being on bad terms

  with Major RicI?''

  "Good Lord, no. They were pals."

  "He didn't oIject t°'-his wife's friendship with

  Major Rich?"

  The major became Very red in the face.

  "You've been. r.ea. ding those damned news-papers,

  with tlaelr nm[s and lies. Of course he

  didn't object. Why, he said to me: 'Marguerita's

  going, of course""

  "I see. Now during the evening--the manner of

  Major Rich--Was that huch as usual?"

  "I didn't notice any qifference."

  "And madar0e? She, too, was as usual."

  "Well," he reflected, "now I come to think of

  it, she was a bit quiet. You know, thoughtful and

  faraway."

  "Who arrived first?"

  "The SpenceS' They were there when I got

  there. As a mStter of tact, I'd called round for

  Mrs. Clayton, Itt f°unl she'd already started. So

  I got there a bit late."

  "And how did you amuse yourselves? You

  danced? You pi$yed the cards?"

  "A bit of botl. Danced first of all."

  ' "There were five of Yu?"

  "Yes, but that's all right, because I don't dance.

  I put on the records and the others danced."

  THE MYSTERY OF THE BAGDAD CHEST

  41

  "Who danced most with whom?"

  "Well, as a matter of fact the Spences like danc-ing

  together. They've got a sort of craze on

  fancy steps and all that."

  "So that Mrs. Clayton danced mostly with

  Major Rich?"

  "That's about it."

  "And then you played poker?"

  "Yes."

  "And when did you leave?"

  "Oh, quite early. A little after midnight."

  "Did you all leave together?"

  "Yes. As a matter of fact, we shared a taxi,

  dropped Mrs. Clayton first, then me, and the

  Spences took it on to Kensington."

  Our next visit was to Mr. and Mrs. Spence.

  Only Mrs. Spence was at home, but her account of

  the evening tallied with that of Major Curtiss

  except that she displayed a slight acidity concern-ing

  Major Rich's luck at cards.

  Earlier in the morning Poirot had had a tele-phone

  conversation with Inspector Japp, of Scot-land

  Yard. As a result we arrived at Major Rich's

  rooms and found his manservant, Burgoyne, ex-pecting

  us.

  The valet's evidence was very precise and clear.

  Mr. Clayton had arrived at twenty minutes to

  eight. Unluckily Major Rich had just that very

  minute gone out. Mr. Clayton had said that he

  couldn't wait, as he had to catch a train, but he

  would just scrawl a note. He accordingly went into

  the sitting room to do so. Burgoyne had not ac-tually

  heard his master come in, as he was running

  the bath, and Major Rich, of course, let himself in

  42

  Agatha Crist.e

  with his own key. In his

  o.

  Inl

  minutes later that Major leh un it was about ten

  him out for cigarettes.

  .L .

  No,. tailed hi arid sent

  me stting room. Major ne , ....

  doorway. He had rf,,-'ich ':". " goe Into

  mi-,,,d, -'-"I

  ;r naa StOod in the

  .... a mtcr ana on ths h "" the cigarettes five

  into the sitting room wh; cc. .

  . ..

  , sq SlOR fie boa

  For fils master, who was studt

  tncn epty' save

  smoking. His master had inu?g by the window

  ready, and on being told it 3 a ;:. .

  ta,e ,,.--e. 'ur,o,ne. ,a:a'

  Clayton, as he assumed tha, n.

  . e

  ,. t mentioned Mr

  Mr. Clayton there and let ms

  i ,aa

  loun

  .master's

  manner had been 6re,.Ot h

  self. His

  usual. He had taken his

  ba?elth same as

  shortly

  after, Mr. and Mrs, q, cnan

  ed,

  and

&nb
sp; to be

  followed by Majo

  nce ha arrived,

  Clayton.

  'artiss and Mrs.

  It had not

  occurred

  to

  plained, that Mr. Clayton

  h

  his master's return. To do lg

  - u,

  , nave left before

  v have had

  to bang the front d 'qr

  .....

  mat te valet was sure

  he wou

  -ers Id h . nd ams

  and

  Still in the same imp one, -ave

  proceeded to his

  finding of thanner, '

  urgoyne

  time

  my attention was direct bdy. For the

  first

  It was a good-sized piece o if

  the fatal chest.

  against the

  wall next to the hbo rniture standing

  It

  was made

  of some dark w .ograph cabinet.

  studded with

  brass nails. Th

  °t and

  enough. I

  looked in

  and

  shik

  li

  Plentifully

  opene,

  simply

  scrubbed,

  ominous

  stains

  rem er t.