Three Character Girl

Daily Newsmonger Report

That's your storytelling wits or the Daily Newsmonger report?" ask Poirot.

"Daily Newsmonger is printed hastily and is satisfied with mere facts. But, the dramatic possibilities of the incident instantly caught my attention." Poirot nodded seriously.

"Wherever there is human nature, there is drama. But - not always just where you think. Remember this. Anyway, I'm also interested because it's very likely that I should be in touch with this case."

"Really?"

"Yes. A man called me this morning and made a pact with me on behalf of Prince Paul of Maurania."

"But what does this have to do with the case?"

"You don't read gossipy newspapers, newspapers that contain witty stories and phrases 'someone hears.' or 'someone wants to know if....'. Look at this." I followed his short, fat fingers moving along the paragraph - 'are the foreign prince and the famous dancer really tied to the wedding ropes! And does the dancer like her new diamond ring!'

"Well, to sum up your dramatic story, Mademoiselle Saintclair passed out on the carpet of the living room in Daisymead. You remember?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"As a result of the words first muttered by Mademoiselle as she staggered in, the two Oglander family men immediately acted. Who picked up the doctor to help the clearly shaken woman, and the other to the police station - who, after recounting the incident, accompanied the police to Mon D?sir, Mr. Reedburn's villa is amazingly beautiful, not far from Daisymead. There they got that big fellow, whose reputation was bad, lying in the library with the back of his head gaping like a broken egg shell!" "I have cut your story," said Poirot kindly.

"I ask you to forgive me.... Ah, here comes M. le Prince!" Our distinguished guest is called Count Feodor. He was a strange-faced, tall, feisty young man, with an unwieldy chin, a mouth like the famous Mauranberg, and a dark eyeball as fiery as the eyes of a fanatic.

"M. Poirot?" My best friend bowed.

"Monsieur, I'm in deep trouble. Bigger than I can express." Poirot waved his hand. "I understand your anxiety. Mademoiselle Saintclair is your very dear friend, don't you think?" The prince replied briefly,

"I wish I could get her married." Poirot sat up straight in his chair. Both of his eyes were wide open. The prince continued speaking.

"I am not the first person in the family to marry an ordinary person and my children will lose the privileges of being princely children. My brother, Alexander, was also against the emperor. Now we live in a wider world, free from the prejudices of the social class. Besides, actually Mademoiselle Saintclair is truly on par with me. Have you heard of his story?"

"Many romantic stories about her - not something strange in the lives of famous dancers. I heard she was the daughter of an Irish woman who worked in the cleaning department of the office; also the story that made her mother a great Russian nobleman."

"The first story is of course bullshit," the prince said.

"But the second story is true. Despite keeping her origins secret, Valerie let me guess that far. After all, he subconsciously proved it in various ways. I believe in origins, M Poirot."

"I did too" Poirot chimed in earnestly.

I'm allowed to speak freely or not" Is there anything that connects Mademoiselle Saintclair to this criminal act" Surely she knows Reedburn?" "Yes, the deceased claimed to love Valerie."

"And the lady?"

"He didn't say anything to the deceased." Poirot looked at the prince sharply. "Is there a reason for Mademoiselle Saintclair to fear the deceased?" The prince looked doubtful.

"There's incident. You know Zara, the weasel?"

"No."

"He's terrific. Once upon a time you need to consult him. Last week Valerie and I went there. Zara read the cards to us. To Valerie he spoke of difficulties - of the clouds piling up; then the opening of the last card - the closing card, as the name implies. King klaver. Then Zara said to Valerie, Be careful. There are men who rule over you. You fear him - you are in great danger, danger through that person. You understand the person I mean"' Valerie's lips were pale-pale.

He nodded and said, 'Yes, yes, I know.' Shortly after, we left the place. Zara's last words to Valerie were, 'Be careful of the king of the clavers. Danger is threatening you!' I asked Valerie, but she didn't want to say anything - instead she assured me that everything was fine. Now, after last night's events, I'm increasingly convinced that Valerie saw Reedburn on the card and she's the one Valerie was afraid of." Suddenly the prince stopped.

"Now you understand my inner upheaval when I opened the newspaper this morning. Suppose Valerie, in a sudden outburst of emotion - Oh, no way!" Poirot stood up and gently pressed the young prince's shoulder.

"Don't let yourself suffer. Leave this in my hands." "You're going to Streatham" I think Valerie is still there, in Daisymead helpless because her mind is shaking."

"I'll be there soon." First Case Poirot Poirot Early Cases by Agatha Christie at http://ceritasilat-novel.blogspot.com by Saiful Bahri Situbondo "I've arranged everything - through the embassy. You're allowed to go anywhere." "Then we're leaving Hastings, will you accompany me" Goodbye, M. le Prince."

*** Mon Desir is an amazingly beautiful villa, completely modern and comfortable. There is a short road that connects the highway with the building and a beautiful garden, which runs behind a house of several acres. As soon as we mentioned the name of Prince Paul, the butler who opened the door immediately led us to the place where the tragedy took place. The library was truly magnificent, extending from the front to the back of the building, with windows at each end, one facing the road in front and the other facing the garden. It was in the recess of the garden window that the victim's body lay. The bodies were recently removed and police have concluded their examination. "Absolutely," I grumbled to Poirot. "Who knew there was a lead they had torn apart?" Poirot smiled. "Eh uh! How many times do I have to tell you that the clues come from within" That is from within the tiny cells of our brain, that's where lies the answer to every mystery." Poirot turned to the butler. "I think this room has not been touched, except for the purpose of moving the body. Right so?"

"Yes, Sir. The state of this room is exactly the same as when the police came last night."

"These curtains - I see drawn right across the recesses of the wall. Same in the other window. Last night, were the curtains closed?" "Yes, Sir. I shut it down every night."

"Then, surely Reedburn pulled him back?" "I think so, sir."

"Do you know that your employer was expecting guests last night?" "Master didn't say that. But, sir told him not to be disturbed after dinner. You know, there's an exit from the library to the terrace next to the house. You can take guests through that door." "Does your employer usually do it?" The butler coughed silently. "I think so." Poirot stepped into the door he was talking about. Not locked. He walked towards the terrace, which corresponded to the carriageway on the right; to the left of the terrace was a brick wall.

"Fruit garden, sir. There's an entrance, but it's always locked at six o'clock." Poirot nodded and walked into the library again. The butler followed. "You didn't hear anything last night?" "Well, sir, we heard voices in the library, moments before 21:00. But, this incident was not strange, especially since it was a female voice. However, once we were all in the waiter room, right on the other side, of course we heard nothing. Then, about 23:00 the police came." "How many sounds do you hear?" "I can't be sure, sir. All I caught was the woman's voice." "Aah!" "Sorry, Sir. Dr. Ryan is still inside. Maybe you want to find him?" We take good advice. Within a few minutes the doctor, who was middle-aged and carefree-faced, joined us and gave all the information Poirot needed. Reedburn was lying by the window, his head lying near the marble seat under the window. There were two wounds on his body; one between his eyes and the other - the deadly one - on the back of the head. "He's lying in a supine position?" "Yes, there's a trace." Dr. Ryan pointed at the small, dark-colored stain on the floor. "Can't it be that the blow to the back of the head was caused by the impact with the floor?" "Impossible. Whatever weapon was used, it pierced through the skull a little." Poirot seems to think in front of Dr. Ryan. At the elbow corner of each window lies a carved marble chair, whose backrest is modernized in the form of a lion's head. A speck of light appeared in Poirot's eyes. "If only he had fallen flat on the head of this protruding lion and fell to the floor. Isn't this likely to cause injuries like you described earlier?" "Indeed. But, his lying position made that theory impossible. Besides, there must be blood stains on the chair." "If the bloodstains have been washed?" Dr. Ryan shrugged his shoulders. "It seems impossible. Making an accident look like murder doesn't benefit anyone." "That's right," Poirot asserted without refuting. "Could both attacks have been carried out by a woman" What do you think?" "Oh, very unlikely I suppose. You think about Mademoiselle Saintclair?" "I don't think of anyone in particular until I'm absolutely sure" Poirot replied softly. Poirot turned his attention to a window that doubles as a door that is found open. Dr Ryan continued his statement. "It was through this window that Mademoiselle Saintclair escaped. You can instantly catch a glimpse of Daisymead among the trees. There are many houses in front of him. But, in fact Daisymead is the only house visible from here, even if it's a little far away."