Three Character Girl

Meeting Point

It's been this grim. He had no reason to kidnap his son and pay his money to himself.

Instead, her husband's position was different. His wife is rich, and this is by no means the same as being rich by itself actually I think that Mrs Waverly does not really like to lose money, except under very reasonable pretext.

But Mr. Waverly, you may soon find out, is a bon viveur. He likes to live well." "No way," I said. "It's not possible at all. Who told the servants to leave" Mr. Waverly.

 He could write those canned letters, poison his wife, speed up the clock, and give an incredible alibi to his faithful servant, Tredwell. Tredwell never liked Mrs Waverly. He served his master and was willing to obey his master's orders absolutely.

Three parties involved. Waverly, Tredwell, and some of Waverly's friends. This is the police's fault. They did not further investigate the driver of the grey car with the child inside.

 The driver was the third. He took a child in a neighboring village, a boy with blond hair and curls. He entered through the east door and exited through the south door at the right time, waved his hand, and shouted. His face and car number could not be seen. So, clearly the child's face was also invisible. Then, he gave a false trail to London.

Meanwhile Tredwell had completed his task of arranging the handover of parcels and letters to be delivered by a young man who looked rough. His master could have given him an alibi had the young man recognized Tredwell - regardless of the fake mustache the butler wore. Immediately after a commotion outside and the Inspector barges outside, Mr. Waverly quickly hides his son in the foxhole and follows the Inspector.

Once the Inspector leaves and Miss Collins is out of sight, it's not hard to get Johnnie to safety in his own car." "Then, what about the dog?" my many.

 "And Miss Collins' lie?" "That's my little joke. I asked her in case there was a toy dog in the house and she replied that there was no - but, obviously, there were some - in the children's room! You know, Mr. Waverly put some toys in the foxhole to keep Johnnie calm and fun playing."

"M. Poirot" - Mr. Waverly entered the room where we were talking - "have you found anything" Have you found any clues as to where my son was taken?" Poirot handed me a piece of paper. "This is the address." "But this paper is empty."

"Because I'm waiting for you to write down that address for me." "What?"" mr. Waverly's face turned red-faced.

"I know everything, Monsieur. I'll give you twenty-four hours to get the boy back. Your cleverness is comparable to the task of returning the child. Otherwise, your wife will be told the exact order of events." Mr. Waverly submerged his body into the chair and covered his face with both hands. "Johnnie's with my old nanny, ten miles from here. He's happy and well taken care of." "I don't doubt it. If I didn't trust you as a real good father, I wouldn't give you a chance."

 "The scandal - "

 "Exactly. Your name has long been known and honored. Don't risk it again. Good night, Mr. Waverly. Ah, by the way, I have one piece of advice. Always clean the corners of the room!"

In this way, she became rather famous and her profession was a stylish life. The man was rich, but not very rich, and spent his money boldly in pursuit of social pleasures. Collecting antiques is his favorite. He is a collector's soul. Ancient badges, old-fashioned fans, antique gems - no simple or modern item has Marcus Hardman.

Poirot and I came to fulfill an important call and found the man suffering from uncertainty. Under such circumstances, calling the police was a disgusting act for him. On the other hand, not calling the police meant he secretly approved the disappearance of some gems from his collection. Poirot considered it a middle ground.

"My pomegranate stone, Monsieur Poirot, and my jamrud necklace - said the old man belonged to Catherine de' Medici. Oh, that jamrud necklace!" "How about you tell me about the disappearance of those jewels?" Poirot suggested gently.

"I'll try. Yesterday afternoon I had a small tea banquet - not very formal in nature. There were about six people I invited. This season I have invited them twice. Although I may not have to tell you this, the banquets were very successful. Fun music - Nacora the pianist, and Katherine Bird, a low-voiced Australian singer - in the big studio.

Early that afternoon I showed my collection of medieval gems to the guests. The gems I kept in a small vault on the wall over there. The inside of the cabinet was arranged like a wall cabinet with a colored velvet background to show off its contents.

After that we looked at the fan - in a box on that wall. We went back to the studio to listen to music. Only after all the guests came home did I get the vault dismantled! For sure I didn't close it properly and someone took advantage of the opportunity to drain the contents.

 Those pomegranate stones, Monsieur Poirot, that jamrud necklace - that collection - a collection of a lifetime! Anything I would give to restore those gems! But there can be no press coverage! You understand completely no, Monsieur Poirot" My own guests. My personal friends! This incident will cause a terrible scandal!"

"Who was the last person to leave this room when you headed to the studio?"

"Johnston. Maybe you know him. South African Billionaire. He just rented Abbotbury's home on Park Lane. He was slow for a while behind, I remember this. But, for sure, there was no way he would take it!" "During that afternoon, did any of your guests return to this room for some reason?"

 "I am ready to answer this question, Monsieur Poirot. Three people came back here. Countess Vera Rossakoff, Bernard Parker, and Lady Runcorn."

"Let's talk about them." "Countess Vera Rossakoff was a very charming Russian woman, including the old regime. He just came to England. Actually Countess Rossakoff was already saying goodbye, therefore it was a bit of a shock that I found her in this room and looked at my fan box with an enchanted look. You see, Monsieur Poirot, the more I think about it, the more suspicious it feels. Don't you agree?" "Very suspicious; but let us hear about the others." "Well, Parker came just to pick up the miniature boxes I wanted to show Lady Runcorn."

 "And Lady Runcorn herself?" "I'm sure you know. Lady Runcorn was middle-aged, very steady, and devoted most of her time to various social activities. He came back solely to take his handbag."