Chapter 3
I rushed along the hallway and skidded to a halt outside the door. There were raised voices inside. I knew that one of them was Poirot, his rapid tone and the way he mixes English and French when he becomes excited is as recognisable to me as my own reflection. The other turned out to be Inspector Japp. I threw open the door and barged inside. Unusually for them, they were having a row. I bit my tongue, preferring to catch up to them before telling them all I had discovered. Japp was being typically unhelpful. "Poirot, she's a grown woman perfectly able to look after herself. Also, you've got no reason to imagine she's come to harm. I can't investigate a disappearance when there's no evidence to say that anybody has disappeared." I cleared my throat to speak, and my two friends suddenly became aware that I was there.
"Hastings, where did you rush off to in such a hurry?"
I hastily filled them in on my efforts, trying to speak calmly.
"I went to the Corner House. She was there, with her friend, until a little before one. The waitress heard her say she needed to go to the Post Office before coming back to work. So I checked there, but the clerk was working a half day, so I agreed to return tomorrow morning to speak with her."
"Mon ami, you have done admirably, just as I would have done. Your little grey cells are improving today."
"There's more. I walked the journey between the Post Office and here. I found this on the street." I pulled the heel out of my pocket to show him. He visibly paled. "I spoke to a few shopkeepers. There were no accidents of any kind on that street all day. Somehow, within ten minutes walk of here, two hours ago, she vanished." I decided to sit down before I fell down. Collapsing into the nearest chair, I looked up at them both expectantly. "What now?"
Japp rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, this broken shoe does change things somewhat. Even if she had stopped at a shoe shop or a cobblers, she'd never be this long, not on office time, and I find hard to believe she wouldn't call if she had been delayed. And she's not going to go far with a broken shoe. Not by choice anyway…" I shuddered at the mental image, unaware that Poirot was watching me intently. "I'll get some men out searching the area, and I'll call the hospitals. Let me know if you hear anything. If you have a picture of her, it'll expedite matters." Wordlessly, I took out my wallet and pulled out the photograph. I handed it to him and turned away from him so he wouldn't see me start to lose what little grip I had on my sanity. I certainly didn't see the look he shared with Poirot.
The door shut behind him. I hadn't been aware of him leaving. The next thing I knew, Poirot was sitting next to me, holding out a large brandy.
"Mon cher ami, I had no idea, the depth of your feelings. After all, she is not the young girl with the auburn hair."
I stared at him. "Is that what you think of me? You think me so shallow that I can't value loyalty and goodness and honesty as equally as beauty. Maybe when I was younger, but now…I don't pretend to understand why, but I love her. However many girls I meet, yes, they may be beautiful, but there just not…not her." I drained my brandy in one mouthful and dropped the glass, my head dropping into my hands. I felt a comforting hand on my shaking shoulder.
"And Poirot will bring her home. That is a promise. For you"