“Anything interesting come by the post?”
Poirot shook his head with a dissatisfied air.
“I have not yet examined my letters, but nothing of interest arrives
nowadays. The great criminals, the criminals of method, they do not
exist. The cases I have been employed upon lately were _banal___ to the
last degree. In verity I am reduced to recovering lost lap-dogs for
fashionable ladies! The last problem that presented any interest was
that intricate little affair of the Yardly diamond, and that was—how
many months ago, my friend?”
He shook his head despondently, and I roared with laughter.
“Cheer up, Poirot, the luck will change. Open your letters. For all you
know, there may be a great Case looming on the horizon.”
Poirot smiled, and taking up the neat little letter opener with which
he opened his correspondence he slit the tops of the several envelopes
that lay by his plate.
“A bill. Another bill. It is that I grow extravagant in my old age.
Aha! a note from Japp.”
“Yes?” pricked up my ears. The Scotland Yard Inspector had more than
once introduced us to an interesting case.
“He merely thanks me (in his fashion) for a little point in the
Aberystwyth Case on which I was able to set him right. I am delighted
to have been of service to him.”
“How does he thank you?” I asked curiously, for I knew my Japp.
“He is kind enough to say that I am a wonderful sport for my age, and
that he was glad to have had the chance of letting me in on the case.”
This was so typical of Japp, that I could not forbear a chuckle. Poirot
continued to read his correspondence placidly.
“A suggestion that I should give a lecture to our local boy scouts. The
Countess of Forfanock will be obliged if I will call and see her.
Another lap-dog without doubt! And now for the last. Ah—”
I looked up, quick to notice the change of tone. Poirot was reading
attentively. In a minute he tossed the sheet over to me.
“This is out of the ordinary, _mon ami___. Read for yourself.”
The letter was written on a foreign type of paper, in a bold
characteristic hand:
“Villa Geneviève
Merlinville-sur-Mer
France
“_Dear Sir___,
“I am in need of the services of a detective and, for reasons which I
will give you later, do not wish to call in the official police. I have
heard of you from several quarters, and all reports go to show that you
are not only a man of decided ability, but one who also knows how to be
discreet. I do not wish to trust details to the post, but, on account
of a secret I possess, I go in daily fear of my life. I am convinced
that the danger is imminent, and therefore I beg that you will lose no
time in crossing to France. I will send a car to meet you at Calais, if
you will wire me when you are arriving. I shall be obliged if you will
drop all cases you have on hand, and devote yourself solely to my
interests. I am prepared to pay any compensation necessary. I shall
probably need your services for a considerable period of time, as it
may be necessary for you to go out to Santiago, where I spent several
years of my life. I shall be content for you to name your own fee.
“Assuring you once more that the matter is _urgent___,
“Yours faithfully
“P. T. RENAULD.”
Below the signature was a hastily scrawled line, almost illegible: “For
God’s sake, come!”