akorn - Mighty Old Tales Retold

The Murder on the Links - Chapter 27

Jack Renauld’s Story
“Congratulations, M. Jack,” said Poirot, wringing the lad warmly by the hand.
Young Renauld had come to us as soon as he was liberated—before starting for Merlinville to rejoin Marthe and his mother. Stonor accompanied him. His heartiness was in strong contrast to the lad’s wan looks. It was plain that the boy was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Although delivered from the immediate peril that was hanging over him, the circumstances of his release were too painful to let him feel full relief. He smiled mournfully at Poirot, and said in a low voice:
“I went through it to protect her, and now it’s all no use!”

The Murder on the Links - Chapter 26

I Receive a Letter
“My Friend:    “You will know all when you get this. Nothing that I can say will move Bella. She has gone out to give herself up. I am tired out with struggling.    “You will know now that I deceived you, that where you gave me trust I repaid you with lies. It will seem, perhaps, indefensible to you, but I should like, before I go out of your life for ever, to show you just how it all came about. If I knew that you forgave me, it would make life easier for me. It wasn’t for myself I did it—that’s the only thing I can put forward to say for myself.    “I’ll begin from the day I met you in the boat train from Paris. 

The Murder on the Links - Chapter 25

An Unexpected Dénouement
We were present the following morning at the examination of Jack Renauld. Short as the time had been, I was shocked at the change that had taken place in the young prisoner. His cheeks had fallen in, there were deep black circles round his eyes, and he looked haggard and distraught, as one who had wooed sleep in vain for several nights. He betrayed no emotion at seeing us.
The prisoner and his counsel, Maître Grosíer, were accommodated with chairs. A formidable guard with resplendent sabre stood before the door. The patient greffier sat at his desk. The examination began.
“Renauld,” began the magistrate, “do you deny that you were in Merlinville on the night of the crime?”

The Murder on the Links - Chapter 24

“Save Him!”
We crossed from England by the evening boat, and the following morning saw us in Saint-Omer, whither Jack Renauld had been taken. Poirot lost no time in visiting M. Hautet. As he did not seem disposed to make any objections to my accompanying him, I bore him company.
After various formalities and preliminaries, we were conducted to the examining magistrate’s room. He greeted us cordially.
“I was told that you had returned to England, M. Poirot. I am glad to find that such is not the case.”
“It is true that I went there, M. le juge, but it was only for a flying visit. A side issue, but one that I fancied might repay investigation.”
“And it did—eh?”
Poirot shrugged his shoulders. M. Hautet nodded, sighing.

The Murder on the Links - Chapter 23

Difficulties Ahead
After a moment of stress, such as I have just described, reaction is bound to set in. I retired to rest that night on a note of triumph, but I awoke to realize that I was by no means out of the wood. True, I could see no flaw in the alibi I had so suddenly conceived. I had but to stick to my story, and I failed to see how Bella could be convicted in face of it. It was not as though there was any old friendship between us that could be raked up, and which might lead them to suspect that I was committing perjury. It could be proved that in actual fact I had only seen the girl on three occasions. No, I was still satisfied with my idea—had not even Poirot admitted that it defeated him?

The Murder on the Links - Chapter 22

I Find Love
For a moment or two I sat as though frozen, the photograph still in my hand. Then, summoning all my courage to appear unmoved, I handed it back. At the same time, I stole a quick glance at Poirot. Had he noticed anything? But to my relief he did not seem to be observing me. Anything unusual in my manner had certainly escaped him.
He rose briskly to his feet.
“We have no time to lose. We must make our departure with all despatch. All is well—the sea it will be calm!”

The Murder on the Links - Chapter 21

Hercule Poirot on the Case!
In a measured voice, Poirot began his exposition.
“It seems strange to you, mon ami, that a man should plan his own death? So strange, that you prefer to reject the truth as fantastic, and to revert to a story that is in reality ten times more impossible. Yes, M. Renauld planned his own death, but there is one detail that perhaps escapes you—he did not intend to die.”

The Murder on the Links - Chapter 20

An Amazing Statement
The next moment Poirot embraced me warmly. “Enfin! You have arrived. And all by yourself. It is superb! Continue your reasoning. You are right. Decidedly we have done wrong to forget Georges Conneau.”
I was so flattered by the little man’s approval that I could hardly continue. But at last I collected my thoughts and went on.
“Georges Conneau disappeared twenty years ago, but we have no reason to believe that he is dead.”
“Aucunement,” agreed Poirot. “Proceed.”
“Therefore we will assume that he is alive.”

The Murder on the Links - Chapter 19

I Use My Grey Cells
I was dumbfounded. Up to the last, I had not been able bring myself to believe Jack Renauld guilty. I had expected a ringing proclamation of his innocence when Poirot challenged him. But now, watching him as he stood, white and limp against the wall, and hearing the damning admission fall from his lips, I doubted no longer.
But Poirot had turned to Giraud.
“What are your grounds for arresting him?”
“Do you expect me to give them to you?”
“As a matter of courtesy, yes.”

The Murder on the Links - Chapter 18

Giraud Acts
“By the way, Poirot,” I said, as we walked along the hot white road, “I’ve got a bone to pick with you. I dare say you meant well, but really it was no business of yours to go mouching round to the Hôtel du Phare without letting me know.”
Poirot shot a quick sidelong glance at me.
“And how did you know I had been there?” he inquired.
Much to my annoyance I felt the colour rising in my cheeks.
“I happened to look in in passing,” I explained with as much dignity as I could muster.
I rather feared Poirot’s banter, but to my relief, and somewhat to my surprise, he only shook his head with a rather unusual gravity.
“If I have offended your susceptibilities in any way, I demand pardon of you. You will understand better soon. But, believe me, I have striven to concentrate all my energies on the case.”