The Captain, the Detective and the Chief Inspector
by austenfan1990
The sight might be a commonplace one: the shorter man with a taller companion at his side. But there is something quite different about the two men as they are led by the Chief Inspector to interrogate a suspect who has been detained on suspicion. The short one is dapper, neat and organised and it is even reflected in his speech as he calmly confronts the suspect who is throwing him an extremely ugly look.
His companion is less neat in attire but is equally well-dressed in an up-to-date style. There is something in his bearing which suggests a military man and this is proven seconds later when his lean frame straightens even further and he is at his fullest and considerable height, his voice too rising a little as he verbally leaps to the defence of his friend as the suspect hurls an insult to the latter. Evidently he feels the insult more keenly than his companion and it takes a while for him to regain his composure, a process which is sped up by a touch, a barely perceptible one, to the arm as the shorter man lays a gloved hand on it.
The effect is immediate and the taller man seems to relax at once. His blue eyes, recently blazing with outrage, soften considerably and he appears to recollect himself. A small smile of bashful embarrassment flashes across his face as his eyes glance towards his friend while the other responds with a warm smile of his own, his brown eyes bestowing him a look of immense gratefulness. They hold the other's gaze briefly before turning to the Chief Inspector who is ordering the closest constable to hand to march the culprit off to the car which will take him away.
'Well, Poirot…Hastings,' says James Japp warmly, turning around to look at his colleagues in crime. 'Fancy having a pint down at the pub? I'll treat you both. We could all do with a drink after a month of our man – ' he jabs his thumb sharply in the direction of car which is just driving off – 'giving us the slip one too many times.'
The taller man – though the inspector matches him almost equally in height in his solid brown suit and mackintosh – lets out a very English sound of appreciation. His shorter companion likewise makes a similar outburst but it is one which is foreign and in the negative.
'Ah, non, merci, Chief Inspector,' says Hercule Poirot. 'Alas, we must refuse.'
'I say, Poirot,' says Hastings, reproach and embarrassment mingling in his voice as he glances at Japp whose face has fallen a little.
Brown eyes briefly study the two men in front of them before the detective's face crinkles into a smile.
'Only because Hastings and I insist that we invite you for the rafraîchissement at Whitehaven Mansions, my dear Japp.'
'I say!' This time it is not a expression of reproach but surprised (and much relieved) approval and Japp smiles broadly for a great many reasons, one of them partially being that the Belgian detective is known for keeping nothing but the finest liquor in London, even the country.
'Always the one for little surprises, Monsieur Poirot?' says Japp as the three of them walk companionably into the rapidly descending fog.
'Oui, bien sûr,' smiles Hercule Poirot. 'And that is how it always should be.'
A/N: I actually started this four years ago but never got round to finishing it until now (I confess that this may have been spurred on by my meeting David Suchet the other night after seeing him in The Importance of Being Earnest...he is a superb Lady Bracknell, by the way).
I can't quite remember whether it was my intention for this to be an oneshot or a longer piece but I don't think I would have managed to write in the third person present tense for long. All in all, I suppose this is me having a go (successfully or unsuccessfully) at trying to convey the essence of the relationship these three have together and their different personalities in less than 600 words. Hopefully you've enjoyed it!