XI
Edward Ferrier grasped Poirot warmly by the hand.
He said:
“I thank you, M. Poirot, a thousand times. Well, that finishes the X-ray News. Dirty little rag.
They’re wiped out completely. Serves them right for cooking up such a
scurrilous1 plot. Against
Dagmar, too, the kindliest creature in the world. Thank goodness you managed to expose the
whole thing for the wicked
ramp2 it was . . . What put you on to the idea that they might be using a
double?”
“It is not a new idea,” Poirot reminded him. “It was employed successfully in the case of
Jeanne de la Motte when she impersonated Marie Antoinette.”
“I know. I must re-read The Queen’s Necklace. But how did you actually find the woman
they were employing?”
“I looked for her in Denmark, and I found her there.”
“But why Denmark?”
“Because Mrs. Ferrier’s grandmother was a Dane, and she herself is a markedly Danish type.
And there were other reasons.”
“The resemblance is certainly striking. What a devilish idea! I wonder how the little rat came
to think of it?”
Poirot smiled.
“But he did not.”
He tapped himself on the chest.
“I thought of it!”
Edward Ferrier stared.
“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
Poirot said:
“We must go back to an older story than that of The Queen’s Necklace—to the
cleansing3 of
the Augean Stables. What Hercules used was a river—that is to say one of the great forces of
Nature.
Modernize4 that! What is a great force of Nature? Sex, is it not? It is the sex angle that sells
stories, that makes news. Give people scandal
allied5 to sex and it appeals far more than any
mere6
“Eh bien, that was my task! First to put my own hands in the mud like Hercules to build up a
dam that should turn the course of that river. A journalistic friend of mine aided me. He searched
Denmark until he found a suitable person to attempt the impersonation. He approached her,
casually8 mentioned the X-ray News to her, hoping she would remember it. She did.
“And so, what happened? Mud—a great deal of mud! Cæsar’s wife is bespattered with it. Far
more interesting to everybody than any political scandal. And the result—the “dénouement? Why,
“If all the newspapers in the country publish the news of John Hammett’s defalcations now,
no one will believe it. It will be put down as another political plot to
discredit12 the Government.”
Edward Ferrier took a deep breath. For a moment Hercule Poirot came nearer to being
physically13 assaulted than at any other time in his career.
“My wife! You dared to use her—”
Fortunately, perhaps, Mrs. Ferrier herself entered the room at this moment.
“Well,” she said. “That went off very well.”
“Dagmar, did you—know all along?”
“Of course, dear,” said Dagmar Ferrier.
“And you never told me!”
“But, Edward, you would never have let M. Poirot do it.”
“Indeed I would not!”
Dagmar smiled.
“That’s what we thought.”
“We?”
“I and M. Poirot.”
She smiled at Hercule Poirot and at her husband.
She added:
“I had a very restful time with the dear Bishop—I feel full of energy now. They want me to
christen the new battleship at Liverpool next month—I think it would be a popular thing to do.”
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