"Well that didn't go too well." Luna Lovegood raised an eyebrow calmly, but the Cadets were saved from answering by the arrival of Christopher Kennedy.

"What've I missed?" he panted, clutching a stitch in his side.

"Monsieur, I think you'd better see this," Hercule Poirot stepped aside so Christopher Kennedy could have a better view of what everyone was staring at. Abbie Hughes had turned startlingly pale; Greg Knight was clearly trying not to cry; and all in all the general assemblage of Cadets looked absolutely horrified.

"Is she –"

Poirot nodded gravely as Christopher Kennedy looked down at the lacklustre corpse of Polly Pattinson.

"But how, I mean, why Polly?"

"I'm afraid," Mike Walsh said, his voice quivering, "that's what we'd all like to know."

"Ah, oui. One would, wouldn't they? Perhaps ..." Hercule Poirot frowned and rubbed his temple furiously.

"Are the – police coming?" Christopher was doing his best to remain calm, but his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

"Ah, non. Mademoiselle, please go and inform that man in charge," Poirot said at once to Luna, who nodded and swiftly walked away.

"None of you are to move, enfants, because this is an official crime scene. But I can assure you that I will give this case my upmost attention."

"Isn't it possible, monsieur," Michael Szuplewski sneered despite himself. "That it was an accident?"

"Non!" Hercule Poirot roared, frightening the lives out of the Cadets. "Monsieur," Poirot's beady eyes glistened furiously, "it was not an accident. I saw the entire display! I saw myself who cut Polly's rope –"

"It was cut?" Polly's friend Rachel interrupted, her eyes red.

"Oui! The murderer is standing among us right now!"

"Well, that's fairly preposterous. If you know who 'murdered' Polly, then it would be in your best interests to tell us before someone else gets killed!" Michael Szuplewski's expression was crazed. Poirot stared at him.

"You think, monsieur, that there will be another murder?" Poirot's voice turned dangerously quiet.

"I know there'll be another murder, you are Poirot after all."

Everyone stared at Michael Szuplewski.

"What?!" he cried, throwing his hands up in surrender. "For starters, don't you think it's just slightly odd that two characters from fictional books waltz in here and murders just happen to begin?"

"Murders?" Vanessa wrinkled her nose. "Only one person's been killed, right?"

"Précisément. M. Szuplewski, you're acting very suspicious. Mademoiselle will see to that," Poirot narrowed his eyes at Michael as Luna Lovegood came skipping into view.

"Who, her?" Michael laughed humourlessly. "Loony Lovegood? Yeah, right."

"Is there a problem ...? Oh, hello!" Luna waved at Christopher Kennedy happily. Immediately he blushed.


After the Polly Pattinson abseiling catastrophe, a unanimous vote was passed that the Cadets remained inside for the rest of the day.

"So," Christopher Kennedy held his Agatha Christie book in the air. "Poirot entered the room to find ... her body lying by the fireplace."

Rachel and Vanessa both burst into hysterical tears.

"Stop it!" Abbie Hughes cried, wiping her eyes. "It's bad enough that Polly died, but I doubt any of us want to hear a murder story!"

Luna Lovegood raised her hand.

"I do," she said, raising an eyebrow at the Cadets. "Poirot is my absolute favourite Muggle character ..."

"Yeah, well," Mike Walsh glared at her. "That may be, but he's none of ours."

Luna sighed heavily, rolling her eyes in despair.

"Honestly, how can you like Poirot at a time like this?" Abbie Hughes asked incredulously, gesturing around her at the depressed Cadets.

"Oh you know …" Luna shrugged distantly and twirled her dirty-blonde hair around her finger.

"No, we don't," George Clark muttered under his breath, glaring at her.