I
The Adventure of “The Western Star”
I was standing at the window of Poirot’s rooms looking out idly on
the street below.
“That’s queer,” I ejaculated suddenly beneath my breath.
“What is, _mon ami_?” asked Poirot placidly, from the depths of
his comfortable chair.
“Deduce, Poirot, from the following facts! Here is a young lady,
richly dressed—fashionable hat, magnificent furs. She is coming
along slowly, looking up at the houses as she goes. Unknown to her,
she is being shadowed by three men and a middle-aged woman. They
have just been joined by an errand boy who points after the girl,
gesticulating as he does so. What drama is this being played? Is
the girl a crook, and are the shadowers detectives preparing to
arrest her? Or are _they_ the scoundrels, and are they plotting to
attack an innocent victim? What does the great detective say?”
“The great detective, _mon ami_, chooses, as ever, the simplest
course. He rises to see for himself.” And my friend joined me at
the window.
In a minute he gave vent to an amused chuckle.
“As usual, your facts are tinged with your incurable romanticism.
That is Miss Mary Marvell, the film star. She is being followed by
a bevy of admirers who have recognized her. And, _en passant_, my
dear Hastings, she is quite aware of the fact!”