Free Curtain: Poirot's Last Case by Agatha Christie

Europe, it means what? It means war! If doctors come from all over the world to a certain city, it shows what? That there is to be there a medical conference. Where you see a vulture hovering, there will be a carcass. If you see beaters walking up a moor, there will be a shoot. If you see a man stop suddenly, tear off his coat and plunge into the sea, it means that there, there will be a rescue from drowning.
    ‘If you see ladies of middle age and respectable appearance peering through a hedge, you may deduce that there is there an impropriety of some kind! And finally, if you smell a succulent smell and observe several people all walking along a corridor in the same direction you may safely assume that a meal is about to be served!’
    I considered these analogies for a minute or two, then I said, taking the first one: ‘All the same, one war correspondent does not make a war!’
    ‘Certainly not. And one swallow does not make a summer. But one murderer, Hastings, does make a murder.’
    That, of course, was undeniable. But it still occurred to me, as it did not seem to have occurred to Poirot, that even a murderer has his off times. X might be at Styles simply for a holiday with no lethal intent. Poirot was so worked up, however, that I dared not propound this suggestion. I merely said that the whole thing seemed to me hopeless. We must wait –
    ‘And see,’ finished Poirot. ‘Like your Mr Asquith in the last war. That, mon cher , is just what we must not do. I do not say, mark you, that we shall succeed, for as I have told you before, when a killer has determined to kill, it is not easy to circumvent him. But we can at least try. Figure to yourself, Hastings, that you have here the bridge problem in the paper. You can see all the cards. What you are asked to do is “Forecast the result of the deal”.’
    I shook my head. ‘It’s no good, Poirot, I haven’t the least idea. If I knew who X was –’
    Poirot howled at me again. He howled so loud that Curtiss came running in from the next room looking quite frightened. Poirot waved him away and when he had gone out again, my friend spoke in a more controlled manner.
    ‘Come, Hastings, you are not so stupid as you like to pretend. You have studied those cases I gave you to read. You may not know who X is, but you know X’s technique for committing a crime.’
    ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I see.’
    ‘Of course you see. The trouble with you is that you are mentally lazy. You like to play games and guess. You do not like to work with your head. What is the essential element of X’s technique? Is it not that the crime, when committed, is complete ? That is to say, there is a motive for the crime, there is an opportunity, there is means and there is, last and most important, the guilty person all ready for the dock.’
    At once I grasped the essential point and realized what a fool I had been not to see it sooner.
    ‘I see,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to look round for somebody who – who answers to those requirements – the potential victim.’
    Poirot leaned back with a sigh. ‘ Enfin ! I am very tired. Send Curtiss to me. You understand your job now. You are active, you can get about, you can follow people about, talk to them, spy upon them unobserved –’ (I nearly uttered an indignant protest, but quelled it. It was too old an argument) – ‘You can listen to conversations, you have knees that will bend and permit you to kneel and look through keyholes –’
    ‘I will not look through keyholes,’ I interrupted hotly.
    Poirot closed his eyes. ‘Very well, then. You will not look through keyholes. You will remain the English gentleman and someone will be killed. It does not matter, that. Honour comes first with an Englishman. Your honour is more important than somebody else’s life. Bien ! It is understood.’
    ‘No, but dash it all, Poirot –’
    Poirot said coldly: ‘Send Curtiss to me. Go away. You are obstinate and extremely stupid and I wish that there