Death in the Clouds (Hercule Poirot 12)

The butler closed the door. Cicely took a step forward.

‘Mr Barraclough sent you—?’

‘Sit down, Madame.’ His tone was kindly but authoritative.

Mechanically she sat. He took a chair near her. His manner was fatherly and reassuring.

‘Madame, I entreat you, look upon me as a friend. I come to advise you. You are, I know, in grave trouble.’

She murmured faintly, ‘I don’t—’

‘Ecoutez, Madame, I do not ask you to give away your secrets. It is unnecessary. I know them beforehand. That is the essence of being a good detective—to know.’

‘A detective?’ Her eyes widened. ‘I remember—you were on the plane. It was you—’

‘Precisely, it was me. Now, Madame, let us get to business. As I said just now, I do not press you to confide in me. You shall not start by telling me things. I will tell to you. This morning, not an hour ago, you had a visitor. That visitor—his name was Brown, perhaps?’

‘Robinson,’ said Cicely faintly.

‘It is the same thing—Brown, Smith, Robinson—he uses them in turn. He came here to blackmail you, Madame. He has in his possession certain proofs of—shall we say—indiscretion? Those proofs were once in the keeping of Madame Giselle. Now this man has them. He offers them to you for, perhaps, seven thousand pounds.’

‘Eight.’

‘Eight, then. And you, Madame, will not find it easy to get that sum very quickly?’

‘I can’t do it—I simply can’t do it…I’m in debt already. I don’t know what to do…’

‘Calm yourself, Madame. I come to assist you.’

She stared at him.

‘How do you know all this?’

‘Simply, Madame, because I am Hercule Poirot. Eh bien, have no fears—place yourself in my hands—I will deal with this Mr Robinson.’

‘Yes,’ said Cicely sharply. ‘And how much will you want?’

Hercule Poirot bowed.

‘I shall ask only a photograph, signed, of a very beautiful lady…’

She cried out, ‘Oh, dear, I don’t know what to do…My nerves…I’m going mad.’

‘No, no, all is well. Trust Hercule Poirot. Only, Madame, I must have the truth—the whole truth—do not keep anything back or my hands will be tied.’

‘And you’ll get me out of this mess?’

‘I swear to you solemnly that you will never hear of Mr Robinson again.’

She said, ‘All right. I’ll tell you everything.’

‘Good. Now then, you borrowed money from this woman Giselle?’

Lady Horbury nodded.

‘When was that? When did it begin, I mean?’

‘Eighteen months ago. I was in a hole.’