The Big Four
"You will sell me the Elixir of Life, perhaps? Come, I will make a
bargain with you. Once, I had a child. Find my child for me--and you
shall go free."
"Madame, I agree. It is a bargain. Your child shall be restored to you.
On the faith of--on the faith of Hercule Poirot himself."
Again that strange woman laughed--this time long and unrestrainedly.
"My dear M. Poirot, I am afraid I laid a little trap for you. It is
very kind of you to promise to find my child for me, but, you see, I
happen to know that you would not succeed, and so that would be a very
one-sided bargain, would it not?"
"Madame, I swear to you by the Holy Angels that I will restore your
child to you."
"I asked you before, M. Poirot, could you restore the dead to life?"
"Then the child is--"
"Dead? Yes."
He stepped forward and took her wrist.
"Madame, I--I who speak to you, swear once more. _I will bring the
dead to life._"
She stared at him as though fascinated.
"You do not believe me. I will prove my words. Get my pocket-book which
they took from me."
She went out of the room, and returned with it in her hand. Throughout
all she retained her grip on the revolver. I felt that Achille Poirot's
chances of bluffing her were very slight. The Countess Vera Rossakoff
was no fool.
"Open it, madame. The flap on the left-hand side. That is right. Now
take out that photograph and look at it."
Wonderingly, she took out what seemed to be a small snapshot. No sooner
had she looked at it than she uttered a cry and swayed as though about
to fall. Then she almost flew at my companion.
"Where? Where? You shall tell me. Where?"
"Remember your bargain, madame."
"Yes, yes, I will trust you. Quick, before they come back."
Catching him by the hand, she drew him quickly and silently out of
the room. I followed. From the outer room she led us into the tunnel
by which we had first entered, but a short way along this forked, and
she turned off to the right. Again and again the passage divided, but
she led us on, never faltering or seeming to doubt her way, and with
increasing speed.
"If only we are in time," she panted. "We must be out in the open
before the explosion occurs."
Still we went on. I understood that this tunnel led right through the
mountain and that we should finally emerge on the other side, facing a
different valley. The sweat streamed down my face, but I raced on.
And then, far away, I saw a gleam of daylight. Nearer and nearer. I saw
green bushes growing. We forced them aside, pushed our way through. We
were in the open again, with the faint light of dawn making everything
rosy.
Poirot's cordon was a reality. Even as we emerged, three men fell upon
us, but released us again with a cry of astonishment.
"Quick," cried my companion. "Quick--there is no time to lose--"
But he was not destined to finish. The earth shook and trembled under
our feet, there was a terrific roar and the whole mountain seemed to
dissolve. We were flung headlong through the air.
* * * * *
I came to myself at last. I was in a strange bed and a strange room.
Some one was sitting by the window. He turned and came and stood by me.
It was Achille Poirot--or, stay, was it--
The well-known ironical voice dispelled any doubts I might have had.
"But yes, my friend, it is I. Brother Achille has gone home again--to
the land of myths. It was I all the time. It is not only Number Four
who can act a part. Belladona in the eyes, the sacrifice of the
moustaches, and a real scar the inflicting of which caused me much pain
two months ago--but I could not risk a fake beneath the eagle eyes of
Number Four. And the final touch, your own knowledge and belief that
there was such a person as Achille Poirot! It was invaluable, the
assistance you rendered me, half the success of the coup is due to you!
The whole crux of the affair was to make them believe that Hercule
Poirot was still at large directing operations. Otherwise, everything
was true, the aniseed, the cordon, etc."
"But why not really send a substitute?"
"And let you go into danger without me by your side? You have a pretty
idea of me there! Besides, I always had a hope of finding a way out
through the countess."
"How on earth did you manage to convince her? It was a pretty thin
story to make her swallow--all that about a dead child."
"The countess has a great deal more perspicacity than you have, my dear
Hastings. She was taken in at first by my disguise; but she soon saw
through it. When she said, 'You are very clever, M. Achille Poirot,' I
knew that she had guessed the truth. It was then or never to play my
trump card."
"All that rigmarole about bringing the dead to life?"
"Exactly--but then, you see, I had the child all along."
"_What?_"
"But yes! You know my motto--Be prepared. As soon as I found that the
Countess Rossakoff was mixed up with the Big Four, I had every possible
inquiry made as to her antecedents. I learnt that she had had a child
who was reported to have been killed, and I also found that there were
discrepancies in the story which led me to wonder whether it might not,
after all, be alive. In the end, I succeeded in tracing the boy, and
by paying out a big sum I obtained possession of the child's person.
The poor little fellow was nearly dead of starvation. I placed him in a
safe place, with kindly people, and took a snapshot of him in his new
surroundings. And so, when the time came, I had my little _coup de
théâtre_ all ready!"
"You are wonderful, Poirot; absolutely wonderful!"
"I was glad to do it, too. For I had admired the countess. I should
have been sorry if she had perished in the explosion."
"I've been half afraid to ask you--what of the Big Four?"
"All the bodies have now been recovered. That of Number Four was quite
unrecognisable, the head blown to pieces. I wish--I rather wish it had
not been so. I should have liked to be _sure_--but no more of
that. Look at this."
He handed me a newspaper in which a paragraph was marked. It reported
the death, by suicide, of Li Chang Yen, who had engineered the recent
revolution which had failed so disastrously.
"My great opponent," said Poirot gravely. "It was fated that he and
I should never meet in the flesh. When he received the news of the
disaster here, he took the simplest way out. A great brain, my friend,
a great brain. But I wish I had seen the face of the man who was Number
Four.... Supposing that, after all--but I romance. He is dead. Yes,
_mon ami_, together we have faced and routed the Big Four; and now
you will return to your charming wife, and I--I shall retire. The great
case of my life is over. Anything else will seem tame after this. No,
I shall retire. Possibly I shall grow vegetable marrows! I might even
marry and range myself!"
He laughed heartily at the idea, but with a touch of embarrassment. I
hope ... small men always admire big, flamboyant women--
"Marry and range myself," he said again. "Who knows?"