‘What?’
I concealed my surprise as best as I could.
‘She’s very anxious to see you.
She’s been here half an hour.’
Caroline led the way into our small sitting-room, and I followed. Flora was sitting on the sofa by the window.
She was in black and she sat nervously twisting her hands together.
I was shocked by the sight of her face. All the colour had faded away from it.
But when she spoke her manner was as composed and resolute as possible.
‘Dr Sheppard, I have come to ask you to help me?’
‘Of course he’ll help you, my dear,’ said Caroline.
I don’t think Flora really wished Caroline to be present at the interview.
She would, I am sure, have infinitely preferred to speak to me privately. But she also wanted to waste no time, so she made the best of it.
‘I want you to come to The Larches with me.’
‘The Larches?’ I queried, surprised.
‘To see that funny little man?’ exclaimed Caroline. ‘Yes. You know who he is, don’t you?’
‘We fancied,’ I said, ‘that he might be a retired hairdresser.’
Flora’s blue eyes opened very wide.
‘Why, he’s Hercule Poirot!
You know who I mean - the private detective.
They say he’s done the most wonderful things - just like detectives do in books.
A year ago he retired and came to live down here.
Uncle knew who he was, but he promised not to tell anyone, because M. Poirot wanted to live quietly without being bothered by people.’
‘So that’s who he is,’ I said slowly.
‘You’ve heard of him, of course?’
‘I’m rather an old fogey, as Caroline tells me,’ I said,’ but I have just heard of him.’
‘Extraordinary!’ commented Caroline.
I don’t know what she was referring to - possibly her own failure to discover the truth.
‘You want to go and see him?’ I asked slowly.
‘Now why?’
‘To get him to investigate this murder, of course,’ said Caroline sharply.
‘Don’t be so stupid, James.’
I was not really being stupid.
Caroline does not always understand what I am driving at.
‘You haven’t got confidence in Inspector Davis?’ I went on.
‘Of course she hasn’t,’ said Caroline.
‘I haven’t either.’
Anyone would have thought it was Caroline’s uncle who had been murdered.
‘And how do you know he would take up the case?’ I asked.
‘Remember he has retired from active work.’
‘That’s just it,’ said Flora simply.
‘I’ve got to persuade him.’
‘You are sure you are doing wisely?’ I asked gravely.
‘Of course she is,’ said Caroline.
‘I’ll go with her myself if she likes.’
‘I’d rather the doctor came with me, if you don’t mind, Miss Sheppard,’ said Flora.
She knows the value of being direct on certain occasions. Any hints would certainly have been wasted on Caroline.
‘You see,’ she explained, following directness with tact, ‘Dr Sheppard being the doctor, and having found the body, he would be able to give all the details to M. Poirot.’
‘Yes,’ said Caroline grudgingly,
‘I see that.’
I took a turn or two up and down the room.