Death in the Clouds (Hercule Poirot 12)

She shrugged her shoulders.

‘I know nothing, Monsieur—nothing at all.’

‘You knew enough to burn Madame’s papers.’

‘I was following her instructions. If ever, she said, she were to meet with an accident, or if she were taken ill and died somewhere away from home, I was to destroy her business papers.’

‘The papers in the safe downstairs?’ asked Poirot.

‘That is right. Her business papers.’

‘And they were in the safe downstairs?’

His persistence brought the red up in Elise’s cheeks.

‘I obeyed Madame’s instructions,’ she said.

‘I know that,’ said Poirot, smiling. ‘But the papers were not in the safe. That is so, is it not? That safe, it is far too old-fashioned—quite an amateur might have opened it. The papers were kept elsewhere—in Madame’s bedroom, perhaps?’

Elise paused a moment and then answered:

‘Yes, that is so. Madame always pretended to clients that papers were kept in the safe, but in reality the safe was a blind. Everything was in Madame’s bedroom.’

‘Will you show us where?’

Elise rose and the two men followed her. The bedroom was a fair-sized room, but was so full of ornate heavy furniture that it was hard to move about freely in it. In one corner was a large old-fashioned trunk. Elise lifted the lid and took out an old-fashioned alpaca dress with a silk underskirt. On the inside of the dress was a deep pocket.

‘The papers were in this, Monsieur,’ she said. ‘They were kept in a large sealed envelope.’

‘You told me nothing of this,’ said Fournier sharply, ‘when I questioned you three days ago.’

‘I ask pardon, Monsieur. You asked me where were the papers that should be in the safe. I told you I had burned them. That was true. Exactly where the papers were kept seemed unimportant.’

‘True,’ said Fournier. ‘You understand, Mademoiselle Grandier, that those papers should not have been burnt.’

‘I obeyed Madame’s orders,’ said Elise sullenly.

‘You acted, I know, for the best,’ said Fournier soothingly. ‘Now I want you to listen to me very c

losely, Mademoiselle: Madame was murdered. It is possible that she was murdered by a person or persons about whom she held certain damaging knowledge. That knowledge was in those papers you burnt. I am going to ask you a question, Mademoiselle, and do not reply too quickly without reflection. It is possible—indeed in my view it is probable and quite understandable—that you glanced through those papers before committing them to the flames. If that is the case, no blame will be attached to you for so doing. On the contrary, any information you have acquired may be of the greatest service to the police, and may be of material service in bringing the murderer to justice. Therefore, Mademoiselle, have no fear in answering truthfully. Did you, before burning the papers, glance over them?’

Elise breathed hard. She leant forward and spoke emphatically.

‘No, Monsieur,’ she said. ‘I looked at nothing. I read nothing. I burnt the envelope without undoing the seal.’

Chapter 10

The Little Black Book

Fournier stared hard at her for a moment or two, then, satisfied that she was speaking the truth, he turned away with a gesture of discouragement.

‘It is a pity,’ he said. ‘You acted honourably, Mademoiselle, but it is a pity.’

‘I cannot help, Monsieur. I am sorry.’

Fournier sat down and drew a notebook from his pocket.

‘When I questioned you before, you told me, Mademoiselle, that you did not know the names of Madame’s clients. Yet just now you speak of them whining and asking for mercy. You did, therefore, know something about these clients of Madame Giselle’s?’