Free Poirot's Early Cases by Agatha Christie

resemble that of Tredwell in any way?’
    ‘It was too far away for me to see his face.’
    ‘Has Tredwell a brother, do you know?’
    ‘He had several, but they are all dead. The last one was killed in the war.’
    ‘I am not yet clear as to the grounds of WaverlyCourt. The car was heading for the south lodge. Is there another entrance?’
    ‘Yes, what we call the east lodge. It can be seen from the other side of the house.’
    ‘It seems to me strange that nobody saw the car entering the grounds.’
    ‘There is a right of way through, and access to a small chapel. A good many cars pass through. The man must have stopped the car in a convenient place and run up to the house just as the alarm was given and attention attracted elsewhere.’
    ‘Unless he was already inside the house,’ mused Poirot. ‘Is there any place where he could have hidden?’
    ‘Well, we certainly didn’t make a thorough search of the house beforehand. There seemed no need. I suppose he might have hidden himself somewhere, but who would have let him in?’
    ‘We shall come to that later. One thing at a time—let us be methodical. There is no special hiding-place in the house? Waverly Court is an old place, and there are sometimes “priests’ holes”, as they call them.’
    ‘By gad, there is a priest’s hole. It opens from one of the panels in the hall.’
    ‘Near the council chamber?’
    ‘Just outside the door.’
    ‘ Voilà !’
    ‘But nobody knows of its existence except my wife and myself.’
    ‘Tredwell?’
    ‘Well—he might have heard of it.’
    ‘Miss Collins?’
    ‘I have never mentioned it to her.’
    Poirot reflected for a minute.
    ‘Well, monsieur, the next thing is for me to come down to Waverly Court. If I arrive this afternoon, will it suit you?’
    ‘Oh, as soon as possible, please, Monsieur Poirot!’ cried Mrs Waverly. ‘Read this once more.’
    She thrust into his hands the last missive from the enemy which had reached the Waverlys that morning and which had sent her post-haste to Poirot. It gave clever and explicit directions for the paying over of the money, and ended with a threat that the boy’s life would pay for any treachery. It was clear that a love of money warred with the essential mother love of Mrs Waverly, and that the latter was at last gaining the day.
    Poirot detained Mrs Waverly for a minute behind her husband.
    ‘Madame, the truth, if you please. Do you share your husband’s faith in the butler, Tredwell?’
    ‘I have nothing against him, Monsieur Poirot, Icannot see how he can have been concerned in this, but—well, I have never liked him—never!’
    ‘One other thing, madame, can you give me the address of the child’s nurse?’
    ‘149 Netherall Road, Hammersmith. You don’t imagine—’
    ‘Never do I imagine. Only—I employ the little grey cells. And sometimes, just sometimes, I have a little idea.’
    Poirot came back to me as the door closed.
    ‘So madame has never liked the butler. It is interesting, that, eh, Hastings?’
    I refused to be drawn. Poirot has deceived me so often that I now go warily. There is always a catch somewhere.
    After completing an elaborate outdoor toilet, we set off for Netherall Road. We were fortunate enough to find Miss Jessie Withers at home. She was a pleasant-faced woman of thirty-five, capable and superior. I could not believe that she could be mixed up in the affair. She was bitterly resentful of the way she had been dismissed, but admitted that she had been in the wrong. She was engaged to be married to a painter and decorator who happened to be in the neighbourhood, and she had run out to meet him. The thing seemed natural enough. I could not quite understand Poirot. All his questions seemed to me quite irrelevant. Theywere concerned mainly with the daily routine of her life at Waverly Court. I was frankly bored and glad when Poirot took his departure.
    ‘Kidnapping is an easy job, mon ami ,’ he observed, as he hailed a taxi in