Free The Big Four by Agatha Christie

bonds.
    “Ah, yes!” she laughed. “You would like me to untie your hands, would you not? You are clever, M. Hercule Poirot, I know that. I shall not untie your hands - but I will find you a cigarette.”
    She knelt down by him, extracted his cigarette case, took out a cigarette, and placed it between his lips.
    “And now a match,” she said, rising.
    “It is not necessary, madame.” Something in his voice startled me. She, too, was arrested.
    “Do not move, I pray of you, madame. You will regret it if you do. Are you acquainted at all with the properties of curare? The South American Indians use it as an arrow poison. A scratch with it means death. Some tribes use a little blow-pipe - I, too, have a little blow-pipe constructed so as to look exactly like a cigarette. I have only to blow... Ah! you start. Do not move, madame. The mechanism of this cigarette is most ingenious. One blows - and a tiny dart resembling a fishbone flies through the air - to find its mark. You do not wish to die, madame. Therefore, I beg of you, release my friend Hastings from his bonds. I cannot use my hands, but I can turn my head - so - you are still covered, madame. Make no mistake, I beg of you.”
    Slowly, with shaking hands, and rage and hate convulsing her face, she bent down and did his bidding. I was free. Poirot's voice gave me instructions.
    “Your bonds will now do for the lady, Hastings. That is right. Is she securely fastened? Then release me, I pray of you. It is a fortunate circumstance she sent away her henchmen. With a little luck we may hope to find the way out unobstructed.”
    In another minute, Poirot stood by my side. He bowed to the lady.
    “Hercule Poirot is not killed so easily, madame. I wish you goodnight.”
    The gag prevented her from replying, but the murderous gleam in her eyes frightened me. I hoped devoutly that we should never fall into her power again.
    Three minutes later we were outside the villa, and hurriedly traversing the garden. The road outside was deserted, and we were soon clear of the neighbourhood.
    Then Poirot broke out.
    “I deserve all that that woman said to me. I am a triple imbecile, a miserable animal, thirty-six times an idiot. I was proud of myself for not falling into their trap. And it was not even meant as a trap - except exactly in the way in which I fell into it. They knew I would see through it - they counted on my seeing through it. This explains all - the ease with which they surrendered Halliday - everything. Madame Olivier was the ruling spirit - Vera Rossakoff only her lieutenant. Madame needed Halliday's ideas - she herself had the necessary genius to supply the gaps that perplexed him. Yes, Hastings, we know now who Number Three is - the woman who is probably the greatest scientist in the world! Think of it. The brain of the East, the science of the West - and two others whose identities we do not yet know. But we must find out. Tomorrow we will return to London and set about it.”
    “You are not going to denounce Madame Olivier to the police?”
    “I should not be believed. That woman is one of the idols of France. And we can prove nothing. We are lucky if she does not denounce us.”

The Big Four

Chapter 8
    IN THE HOUSE OF THE ENEMY
    After our adventures at the villa in Passywe returned immediately to London. There were some letters waiting for Poirot. He read one of them with a strange smile, and then handed it over.
    “Read this, mon ami.”
    I looked at the signature first - “Abe Ryland” - and remembered Poirot's words. The richest man in the world. Mr. Ryland's letter was short and direct. He said he was very insatisfied with the reasons Poirot had given for not following the South-America proposition at the last minute.
    “This makes us think, no?” said Poirot.
    “It's natural that he's a bit upset.”
    “No, you don't understand. Remeber Mayerling's words. 'Number 2 is represented by an S with two lines through it - the sign for a dollar, also by