"Handel's Largo," and a "_carrozza_." If I remembered rightly, a
_carrozza_ was a carriage. What possible meaning could lie behind
those simple words. The man was a Chinaman, not an Italian, why should
he speak in Italian? Surely, if he were indeed Ingles's servant, he
must know English? The whole thing was profoundly mystifying. I puzzled
over it all the way home. Oh, if only Poirot had been there to solve
the problem with his lightning ingenuity!
I let myself in with my latch-key and went slowly up to my room. A
letter was lying on the table, and I tore it open carelessly enough.
But in a minute I stood rooted to the ground whilst I read.
It was a communication from a firm of solicitors.
"DEAR SIR (it ran),--As instructed by our late client, M.
Hercule Poirot, we forward you the enclosed letter. This letter was
placed in our hands a week before his death, with instructions that
in the event of his demise, it should be sent to you at a certain
date after his death.
"Yours faithfully, etc."
I turned the enclosed missive over and over. It was undoubtedly from
Poirot. I knew that familiar writing only too well. With a heavy heart,
yet a certain eagerness, I tore it open.
"MON CHER AMI (it began),--When you receive this I shall be
no more. Do not shed tears about me, but follow my orders.
Immediately upon receipt of this, return to South America. Do
not be pig-headed about this. It is not for sentimental reasons
that I bid you undertake the journey. _It is necessary._ It is
part of the plan of Hercule Poirot! To say more is unnecessary,
to any one who has the acute intelligence of my friend Hastings.
"_A bas_ the Big Four! I salute you, my friend, from beyond the
grave.
"Ever thine,
"HERCULE POIROT."
I read and re-read this astonishing communication. One thing was
evident. This amazing man had so provided for every eventuality that
even his own death did not upset the sequence of his plans! Mine was
to be the active part--his the directing genius. Doubtless I should
find full instructions awaiting me beyond the seas. In the meantime my
enemies, convinced that I was obeying their warning, would cease to
trouble their heads about me. I could return, unsuspected, and work
havoc in their midst.
There was now nothing to hinder my immediate departure. I sent off
cables, booked my passage, and one week later found me embarking in
the _Ansonia_ en route for Buenos Ayres.
Just as the boat left the quay, a steward brought me a note. It had
been given him, so he explained, by a big gentleman in a fur coat who
had left the boat last thing before the gangway planks were lifted.