Free The Big Four by Agatha Christie Page A

two stripes and a star. It may be conjectured therefore that he is an American subject, and that he represents the power of wealth.' Add to those words the fact that Ryland offered me a huge sum to tempt me out of England - and - and what about it, Hastings?”
    “You mean,” I said, staring, “that you suspect Abe Ryland, the multi-millionaire, of being Number Two of the Big Four.”
    “Your bright intellect has grasped the idea, Hastings. Yes, I do. The tone in which you said multimillionaire was eloquent - but let me impress upon you one fact - this thing is being run by men at the top - and Mr. Ryland has the reputation of being no beauty in his business dealings. An able, unscrupulous man, a man who has all the wealth that he needs, and is out for unlimited power.”
    There was undoubtedly something to be said for Poirot's view. I asked him when he had made up his mind definitely upon the point.
    “That is just it. I am not sure. I cannot be sure. Mon ami, I would give anything to know. Let me but place Number Two definitely as Abe Ryland, and we draw nearer to our goal.”
    “He has just arrived in London, I see by this,” I said, tapping the letter. “Shall you call upon him, and make your apologies in person?”
    “I might do so.”
    Two days later, Poirot returned to our rooms in a state of boundless excitement. He grasped me by both hands in his most impulsive manner.
    “My friend, an occasion stupendous, unprecedented, never to be repeated, has presented itself! But there is danger, grave danger. I should not even ask you to attempt it.”
    If Poirot was trying to frighten me, he was going the wrong way to work, and so I told him. Becoming less incoherent, he unfolded his plan.
    It seemed that Ryland was looking for an English secretary, one with a good social manner and presence. It was Poirot's suggestion that I should apply for the post.
    “I would do it, myself, mon ami,” he explained apologetically. “But, see you, it is almost impossible for me to disguise myself in the needful manner. I speak the English very well - except when I am excited - but hardly so as to deceive the ear; and even though I were to sacrifice my moustaches, I doubt not but that I should still be recognisable as Hercule Poirot.”
    I doubted it also, and declared myself ready and willing to take up the part and penetrate into Ryland's household.
    “Ten to one he won't engage me anyway,” I remarked.
    “Oh, yes, he will. I will arrange for you such testimonials as shall make him lick his lips. The Home Secretary himself shall recommend you.”
    This seemed to be carrying things a bit far, but Poirot waved aside my remonstrances.
    “Oh, yes, he will do it. I investigated for him a little matter which might have caused a grave scandal. All was solved with discretion and delicacy, and now, as you would say, he perches upon my hand like the little bird and pecks the crumbs.”
    Our first step was to engage the services of an artist in “make-up.” He was a little man, with a quaint birdlike turn of the head, not unlike Poirot's own. He considered me some time in silence, and then fell to work. When I looked at myself in the glass half an hour afterwards, I was amazed. Special shoes caused me to stand at least two inches taller, and the coat I wore was arranged so as to give me a long, lank, weedy look. My eyebrows had been cunningly altered, giving a totally different expression to my face, I wore pads in my cheeks, and the deep tan of my face was a thing of the past. My moustache had gone, and a gold tooth was prominent on one side of my mouth.
    “Your name,” said Poirot, “is Arthur Neville. God guard you, my friend - for I fear that you go into perilous places.”
    It was with a beating heart that I presented myself a the Savoy, at an hour named by Mr. Ryland, and asked to see the great man.
    After being kept waiting a minute or two, I was shown upstairs to his suite.
    Ryland was sitting at a table. Spread out in