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Chapter 6
‘I fear,’ said Poirot gravely, ‘that such an occurrence might have damaged me professionally.’
‘Well,’ said Japp with a grin, ‘detectives do turn out to be criminals sometimes—in storybooks.’
A tall thin man with an intelligent, melancholy4 face joined them, and Japp introduced him.
‘This is Monsieur Fournier of the S?reté. He has come over to collaborate5 with us about thisbusiness.’
‘I think I have had the pleasure of meeting you once some years ago, M. Poirot,’ said Fournier,bowing and shaking hands. ‘I have also heard of you from M. Giraud.’
A very faint smile seemed to hover6 on his lips. And Poirot, who could well imagine the terms inwhich Giraud (whom he himself had been in the habit of referring to disparagingly7 as the ‘humanfox-hound’) had spoken of him, permitted himself a small discreet8 smile in reply.
‘I suggest,’ said Poirot, ‘that both you gentlemen should dine with me at my rooms. I havealready invited Ma?tre Thibault. That is, if you and my friend Japp do not object to mycollaboration.’
‘That’s all right, old cock,’ said Japp, slapping him heartily9 on the back. ‘You’re in on this onthe ground floor.’
‘We shall be indeed honoured,’ murmured the Frenchman ceremoniously.
‘You see,’ said Poirot, ‘as I said to a very charming young lady just now, I am anxious to clearmy character.’
‘That jury certainly didn’t like the look of you,’ agreed Japp with a renewal10 of his grin. ‘Bestjoke I’ve heard for a long time.’
By common consent no mention of the case was made during the very excellent meal which thelittle Belgian provided for his friends.
‘After all, it is possible to eat well in England,’ murmured Fournier appreciatively as he madedelicate use of a thoughtfully provided toothpick.
‘A delicious meal, M. Poirot,’ said Thibault.
‘Bit Frenchified, but damn good,’ pronounced Japp.
‘A meal should always lie lightly on the estomac,’ said Poirot. ‘It should not be so heavy as toparalyse thought.’
‘I can’t say my stomach ever gives me much trouble,’ said Japp. ‘But I won’t argue the point.
Well, we’d better get down to business. I know that M. Thibault has got an appointment thisevening, so I suggest that we should start by consulting him on any point that seems likely to beuseful.’
‘I am at your service, gentlemen. Naturally I can speak more freely here than in a coroner’scourt. I had a hurried conversation with Inspector Japp before the inquest, and he indicated apolicy of reticence—the bare necessary facts.’
‘Quite right,’ said Japp. ‘Don’t ever spill the beans too soon. But now let’s hear all you can tellus of this Giselle woman.’
‘To speak the truth, I know very little. I know her as the world knew her—as a public character.
Of her private life as an individual I know very little. Probably M. Fournier here can tell you morethan I can. But I will say to you this: Madame Giselle was what you call in this country “acharacter”. She was unique. Of her antecedents nothing is known. I have an idea that as a youngwoman she was good-looking. I believe that as a result of smallpox11 she lost her looks. She was—Iam giving you my impressions—a woman who enjoyed power; she had power. She was a keenwoman of business. She was the type of hard-headed Frenchwoman who would never allowsentiment to affect her business interests; but she had the reputation of carrying on her professionwith scrupulous12 honesty.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She was honest—according to her lights. Yet the law could have called her toaccount if only evidence had been forthcoming; but that —’ He shrugged15 his shouldersdespondently. ‘It is too much to ask, with human nature what it is.’
‘You mean?’
‘Chantage.’
‘Yes, blackmail of a peculiar17 and specialized18 kind. It was Madame Giselle’s custom to lendmoney on what I think you call in this country “note of hand alone”. She used her discretion19 as tothe sums she lent and the methods of repayment20; but I may tell you that she had her own methodsof getting paid.’
Poirot leaned forward interestedly.
‘As Ma?tre Thibault said today, Madame Giselle’s clientèle lay amongst the upper andprofessional classes. Those classes are particularly vulnerable to the force of public opinion.
Madame Giselle had her own intelligence service…It was her custom before lending money (thatis, in the case of a large sum) to collect as many facts as possible about the client in question; andher intelligence system, I may say, was an extraordinarily21 good one. I will echo what our friendhas said: according to her lights Madame Giselle was scrupulously22 honest. She kept faith withthose who kept faith with her. I honestly believe that she has never made use of her secretknowledge to obtain money from anyone unless that money was already owed to her.’
‘You mean,’ said Poirot, ‘that this secret knowledge was her form of security?’
‘Exactly; and in using it she was perfectly23 ruthless and deaf to any finer shades of feeling; and Iwill tell you this, gentlemen: her system paid! Very, very rarely did she have to write off a baddebt. A man or woman in a prominent position would go to desperate lengths to obtain the moneywhich would obviate24 a public scandal. As I say, we knew of her activities; but as for prosecution—’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘That is a more difficult matter. Human nature is human nature.’
‘And supposing,’ said Poirot, ‘that she did, as you say happened occasionally, have to write offa bad debt—what then?’
‘In that case,’ said Fournier slowly, ‘the information she held was published, or was given to theperson concerned in the matter.’
There was a moment’s silence. Then Poirot said:
‘Financially, that did not benefit her?’
‘No,’ said Fournier—‘not directly, that is.’
‘But indirectly25?’
‘Indirectly,’ said Japp, ‘it made the others pay up, eh?’
‘Exactly,’ said Fournier. ‘It was valuable for what you call the moral effect.’
‘Immoral effect, I should call it,’ said Japp. ‘Well’—he rubbed his nose thoughtfully—‘it opensup a very pretty line in motives26 for murder—a very pretty line. Then there’s the question of who isgoing to come into her money.’ He appealed to Thibault. ‘Can you help us there at all?’
‘There was a daughter,’ said the lawyer. ‘She did not live with her mother—indeed I fancy thather mother has never seen her since she was a tiny child; but she made a will many years ago nowleaving everything, with the exception of a small legacy27 to her maid, to her daughter AnneMorisot. As far as I know she has never made another.’
‘And her fortune is large?’ asked Poirot.
The lawyer shrugged his shoulders.
‘At a guess eight or nine million francs.’
Poirot pursed his lips to a whistle. Japp said, ‘Lord, she didn’t look it. Let me see, what’s theexchange—that’s—why, that must be well over a hundred thousand pounds. Whew!’
‘Mademoiselle Anne Morisot will be a very wealthy young woman,’ said Poirot.
‘Just as well she wasn’t on that plane,’ said Japp drily. ‘She might have been suspected ofbumping off her mother to get the dibs. How old would she be?’
‘I really cannot say. I should imagine about twenty-four or five.’
‘Well, there doesn’t seem anything to connect her with the crime. We’ll have to get down to thisblackmailing business. Everyone on that plane denies knowing Madame Giselle. One of them islying. We’ve got to find out which. An examination of her private papers might help, eh,Fournier?’
‘My friend,’ said the Frenchman, ‘immediately the news came through, after I had conversedwith Scotland Yard on the telephone, I went straight to her house. There was a safe therecontaining papers. All those papers had been burnt.’
‘Burnt? Who by? Why?’
‘Madame Giselle had a confidential28 maid, Elise. Elise had instructions in the event of anythinghappening to her mistress to open the safe (the combination of which she knew) and burn thecontents.’
‘What? But that’s amazing!’ Japp stared.
‘You see,’ said Fournier, ‘Madame Giselle had her own code. She kept faith with those whokept faith with her. She gave her promise to her clients that she would deal honestly with them.
She was ruthless, but she was also a woman of her word.’
Japp shook his head dumbly. The four men were silent, ruminating29 on the strange character ofthe dead woman…
Ma?tre Thibault rose.
‘I must leave you, Messieurs. I have to keep an appointment. If there is any further informationI can give you at any time, you know my address.’
He shook hands with them ceremoniously and left the apartment.
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