Book Four: Nina
When I first went to England, it was for my older sister's graduation. It wasn't Frances's graduation, I had been really sorry to miss that, but Judith's. I had missed my brother Charlie's graduation from medical school too, but that was nothing terrible. I didn't actually remember him very well because he left home when I was almost five. My only recollection of Charlie was of him standing in the middle of a jungle, half of his face ripped off, and the other half looking grey, as if he was about to be sick. Frances I remember perfectly well, even though she officially left two years before Charlie. Frances was my best friend and second mother growing up. I only saw Frances one time after she left for London. It was when my mother died. Mother doesn't have a body in my memories. She is a snatch of a song and a warm hug. I think that mother's death was the turning point of everything. Charlie went away, Frances left for good, my father started sighing, and Judith retreated a bit inside herself. I got the invitation when I came back from school.
dear all stop i'll be graduating in june stop please
come stop charlie, frances, and sandra will be there stop sincerely judith Once I had stopped reading I rushed out to tell Father at once. "Judith sent a telegram! She invited us to her graduation." "Oh, really?" Father took the paper out of my hand and read it over. I saw his grimace at the end, which meant that he didn't really appreciate Judith's formal signature. "Well, we'll have to start getting ready, won't we?"
We brought Pedro along on our trip. Judith and Charlie had always been his favorites. I was extremely excited during the whole voyage. It was my first overseas trip and what made it all the better for me was the unchecked excitement of my Father. He kept muttering and pacing all the while and when we finally docked at Plymouth he rushed as if with wings to get us on the train to London. The trip to London was amazing. I had never seen so much green in the same place. Also, it was fun to eavesdrop into other people's conversations to try and hear all the different British accents. I had assumed they were all like Father's but some were much more interesting. Father kept pointing out the window and murmuring things like, "Exeter! Went there once as a boy!" I think I must have fallen asleep, for when I woke up, Father was shaking me. "We've arrived Nina!" "Are we going to see Judith first?" "Ah, no. We're going to where we're staying and then we'll drop Pedro at his destination." "You'll be staying somewhere different?" I inquired of Pedro. "Yes senorita. I will be staying with your brother." Father's brow furrowed, but he found us a cab and soon we were pulling up in front of a rather tall, square building. I must have exclaimed something to the effect of, "What the.....?" for Father said, "This is Portland Place. I stayed here when I lived here and we'll be rooming with a friend of mine for our stay." I remembered a name that kept recurring in Judith's letters. "Mr. Poirot?" "I say! How did you know that?" "Judith wrote me about him. It seems that he scares Charlie a bit." "I don't doubt it," smiled Father. We left our bags at Portland Place to be sent up to Mr. Poirot's rooms, and then we drove to where Charlie was staying. The Crescent Hotel was an inexpensive, but truly pretty place. We asked for Charlie's room and were sent up because he was expecting us. I, on the other hand, didn't know what to expect. I really didn't think that his face would still be bleeding, but I had to keep down a shiver of horror when I thought of my brother. Father knocked. "Coming!" A wave of relief washed over me. His voice wasn't deep, or gravelly, instead in had a rather melodic ring to it that made me think of a crackling fire and someone reading out of a book. However, I still wondered what this brother of mine looked like. I expected that he would think me a spoiled brat; almost everyone did though I worked hard not to be one. The doorknob turning broke into my reverie, so slowly, it seemed, that he must have been doing it on purpose to frighten me. "Well, well, well! What have we here?" and he opened the door.
No monster stood there. It was only a tall, dark haired, young man with black eyes and a pleasing expression. The only thing that remained to remind me of that terrible day in the jungle was a thick red line that ran down the side of his face. His face broke into a large smile. "Pedro! Father! Nina! I didn't expect you for another day! Do come in! I'm sorry it took me so long to open the door, the hinges here are not the best and the filthy swine, sorry Nina, of a manager forgot to fix it before I arrived." He turned to me and looked me over. I felt like I did in Dr. Paldito's office, and then I recalled that Charlie too was a doctor. "My word! So it worked!" "What worked?" I asked. "Minime-frances-no-nyet-nine-non Syndrome. It's done you some good." "Excuse me?" I asked, somewhat baffled. Father was also looking at him with a puzzled expression, but Pedro was smiling indulgently. "I am pleased to see you again Mister Charlie." "And I you, Pedro old chap. You can sleep on the bed if you wish and I can take the couch. Where are you staying?" He turned towards Father and I with an inquisitive air. I wondered if he had learned all these flowery British phrases at Oxford. "At Poirot's," replied Father. "Ah ha." We told Charlie that we'd see him the next day for the pre-graduation festivities and then we took a cab back to Portland Place. "Are we going to see Frances after this?" I asked. Father had been looking out the window. "Hmmmm?" "I said.... never mind." "We're going to see Judith and Frances tomorrow at the picnic for the scientists at Reagent's Park." "I see." As the cabby parked the taxi in front of the apartments and said, "Four 'n six Guv," Father got out and went inside. I turned to the cabby and shrugged, handing him the money I kept in my sock. "Tha's only four luv." "I'm sorry. Does it matter?" "Not really. Ou' you get." I got out of the taxi and soon it sped away, leaving me alone on the sidewalk. A man in brown bumped into me going in to the building. "Sorry miss." He tipped his hat and looked down at me, puzzled. "'Aven't I seen you somewhere before?" "Not likely. I just arrived in England." Then, struck with a sudden idea, "Do you know which floor Mr. Hercule Poirot is on?" "I was just going up there myself." I followed the man into an elevator. I had read about them, of course, but to find myself in one was an odd feeling. I must have let out an exclamation or the like, for the man turned towards me to ask me something else. "From far away?" "As far as it gets." "Where exact..." But his words were cut off by the arrival of the elevator at its destination. I followed him out of the elevator. He knocked at the door and then, struck by a sudden thought, he whirled around. The door opened at that very moment. My father stood in the doorway, his face wearing such a look of complete elation that I almost didn't recognize him. I heard the man next to me whisper, "Blimey!" and then a rather incomprehensible babble broke out. "....thought you were sunk in the Amazon....." "That's in Brazil......" "...never writing, sending all your children to Poirot and not tellin' me..." "...been a bit busy..." All the mayhem was silenced by the arrival of a short, somewhat round little man, with an egg shaped head and the biggest moustache that I'm sure there ever was. "Mon ami Hastings, le bon Japp, are we going to make this lovely young lady stand out in the hallway all day? Non, you will both move aside and we will have a little tisane." Father pulled a face, but we all followed the little man, Mr. Poirot, quite willingly. Once we were inside, Mr. Poirot turned to the man in brown. "Chief Inspector Japp, this is the beautiful fourth daughter of the Hastings. Nina, is it not?" he inquired, glancing at me. "Y-yes," I stammered. "Pleasure," said Chief Inspector Japp, holding out his hand. At this point I left. I would be sleeping on a little cot in Father's room. As I unpacked my things, I wondered what my other siblings would be like. Would my reunion be as joyful as Poirot, Japp, and Father's?
"Nina!" A cry rang out across Reagent's Park. I turned around from my post at Father's side while we looked for my wayward relations. Frances was walking quickly across the grass. She was taller then she had been, with brownish blonde hair and astonishing blue eyes. I broke into a run. We hugged each other and then Frances said, "You're twelve now, right?" "A week ago, and you're twenty five." She laughed and we made our way over to Father. Frances's eyes, which were sparkling as she embraced Father, grew dark as she looked over his shoulder. Pedro and Charlie were walking towards us over the grass. I thought I heard Frances murmur, "What is he doing here?" under her breath, but I couldn't be sure. Outwardly, she was doing her best to compose her face, which had turned pale. "What..." but I was silenced by a motion from her hand. "Hello senorita Frances!" called Pedro. "Pedro," Frances coldly acknowledged him with a nod. She smiled at Charlie, but all greetings were cut short by the arrival of two girls. One of them was Judith. She was no taller. Her black hair was combed back from her face rather carelessly. Her face broke into a smile as she saw Charlie and Pedro. She also managed a smile for Frances, and she hugged Father and I, but they were hugs without warmth. The second girl was a stranger to me. Perhaps this was the Sandra mentioned in the telegram. Sandra, for Judith's introduction proved me right, was of medium height, with reddish auburn hair and rather sad eyes. These eyes lost some of their sadness when they beheld Charlie, and a grin spread across her face. She smiled warmly at Frances and shook Father, Pedro, and my hands. She seemed a thoroughly pleasant girl, and clearly Charlie was taken with her, for a brief flush spread across his face, followed by a not very convincing frown. "I'm very pleased to meet you Miss Kyte," said Father, sighing. "Oh, please call me Sandra." I thought she would say the accustomed "so-and-so has told me soooo much about you" but she did not. "Shall we go to the tents and get some lunch?" asked Charlie. "I'm devilishly hungry." "I'm under the impression that that's what we're here for," said Judith dryly. In the tents we met a rather round girl who Frances waylaid and introduced to us as Annie Fitzwalter, her former roommate. Apparently Annie's younger brother was graduating also. After lunch, which was rather late in the evening, it began to get dark, so Father suggested a walk. Pedro and Charlie went off with Sandra and Judith for a ramble, while Frances and Annie declined and said that they would go sit by the pond instead. Father and I strolled off. About a half an hour later, we headed back to the tents to collect our picnic basket and leave. I was a little way behind Father, sniffing the English air and feeling absolutely at peace with the world, when a bloodcurdling scream rent through the air. I started running towards Father. It died down, only to rise again in a piercing wail and disappear.
Father was already running in the direction of the screams, and soon I lost him in the crowd. I myself wanted to know the reason of these cries. I had only once before felt terror such as this, and that was when a fully-grown jaguar was looking at me and licking its lips. I followed the crowd of graduates and their families who were running in the same direction. Soon, the pond loomed ahead, its water black as the light failed. At the sight of the pond I was filled with an unreasonable terror. Hadn't Frances gone to the pond? Yes she had, but wasn't that Frances leaning against a tree? I started elbowing my way to her and soon stood before her. She was pale and shaking, her eyes darting back and forth, with a look of sublime fear. Her hands clutched her stomach and she looked as if she were going to be sick. "Frances, what...." I was cut off by Charlie, who had come from the woods. His sudden appearance caused Frances to jump. He also seemed shocked by her state and advanced towards her with his arms open. "What is it Franny?" Instead of telling him everything, Frances shrank away from his embrace and started crying, large tears rolling down her face. The mysterious way Frances was acting caused me to try to find out some more about what had gone on. I elbowed my way over to the edge of the pond. The first person I saw was Sandra. She too was looking rather queasy, but her scientist's training had her ready for anything. Judith was standing beside her, her face closed, her eyes dark, but her hands darting back and forth, back and forth like two nervous butterflies. Pedro and Father were bending down, looking at something. I got closer, and a shudder shook my frame. I would have fallen had Pedro not suddenly caught sight of me and caught me. Father turned towards us. His eyes were serious; none of the old vacancy was there. "Get Nina out of here Pedro, and get Mr. Poirot and the police." Pedro bore me away, but I had already seen it. Pedro and Father had been looking at a corpse. It was Annie, and she was stabbed with a butter knife.
I woke up the next morning with a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I rolled over on my cot and recalled the terrible events of the night before. At once I glanced at my father's bed. He was in it and snoring steadily, but he was fully dressed and didn't look as if he had been there long. I wrapped my dressing gown around me and entered the small sitting room. Mr. Poirot was there, looking as if he had slept well, just about to start tapping on a hard boiled egg. I had eaten nothing since about three the previous day, so the sight of the egg filled me with hunger. "May I join you?" "But of course ma petite." I sat down at the small coffee table right across from Mr. Poirot, and bit into a piece of toast. Mr. Poirot took no notice of me, but I just had to ask him something. "Who did it?" I blurted out, before I thought about what I was saying. "You speak of the unfortunate death of Mademoiselle Annie, no?" I choked out my answer, "Yes." Mr. Poirot's comical face sobered. He put aside the breakfast tray and looked me straight in the eye. "I was hoping you could aid me with that." After I told Mr. Poirot all of the events of the night before, he stood up and went over to the telephone. "Chief Inspector Japp please." He paused, waiting to be connected. "Japp?" Pause. "Ah, who?" Pause. "Yes, I have." Pause. "Who? Mais, repetez." Another pause, longer now, then all the others. "Oh mon Dieu." Poirot sat down heavily on the couch. "Very well then Japp. Yes I will. Good-bye." He hung up, and turned to me with an expression that already told me half of the truth. "Your brother Charlie has been arrested for the murder of Annie Fitzwalter."
Sitting in Chief Inspector Japp's office later that day, I ran over the events in my head. Charlie had appeared out of the woods, from the direction of the pond. He had left with Judith, Sandra, and Pedro, but he was not with them at the crime scene. Frances had shrunk away from him, as if he were a ghost. At the bottom of it all, was the butter knife, and the remembrance of the fearless and merciless way Charlie had killed that jaguar. Things looked very black for him, even if we could dig up something good for him, it still would be outweighed by negative charges. I bent my head to hide the wetness in my eyes. I didn't remember Charlie very well, but he was my brother. He had saved my life. I owed him as great a debt as there were stars in the sky, and this was the time to pay it back. I stood up. Father asked me where I was going and I mumbled something about the powder room. As I left the office, Japp entered it. To tell the honest truth, I didn't want to witness my father's grief anymore, and I thought that an awkward scene would arise with friend challenging friend. It the waiting room, Judith and Sandra were sitting side by side and Frances was a few chairs off. Pedro was sitting close to Judith, but as far away from Frances as possible. As soon as I entered the room, Sandra glanced up hurriedly, but said nothing. My guess was that she was a little nervous to say anything in front of everyone else, so I asked her if I could talk to her and we both entered the powder room. Once inside, Sandra imploded. She seemed to get shorter, and her face paled. She had to lean against the rim of the sink for support and when she spoke her voice was barely above a whisper. "He didn't do it." What she said was more than a wish, she seemed certain. "How do you know?" Sandra seemed reluctant to explain herself, when she did, and it was with much hesitation. "Charlie and I have had an affection for each other for a long time, so when we went off with Judith and Pedro, we let then wander ahead and we walked slowly, taking in the night. Soon we came upon the pond and Charlie told me to stop and sit down on a bench. We talked for a little bit, and then Charlie seemed to get preoccupied. He kept glancing at his watch and fidgeting. At about quarter to seven, he...." Sandra trailed off and a look of pain crossed her face. "At quarter to seven, he...." I prompted. "He got down on his knees and proposed to me. I said yes." All thought of the moment fled from my mind. "Congratulations!" I exclaimed, and then I could have bitten my tongue for the fresh look of suffering on Sandra's face. She went on, "We separated and on my way back I met Judith. Pedro had left to look for Frances earlier and..." I cut her off, "What? Pedro had left.... we've got to tell Japp!" I virtually dragged Sandra out of the powder room and we swept by an astonished waiting room and into Japp's office. "Listen to Sandra!" I exclaimed, thrusting her into my vacated seat. "I believe she has something to tell you."
That night, we congregated at Poirot's. Charlie joined us, sitting next to Sandra, a diamond sparkling on her finger, but Pedro wasn't one of our company. Poirot explained it all. "Pedro has killed a man. He thinks he is free-scot..." "Scot-free," murmured Charlie. "....but he is not," continued Poirot, not heeding Charlie, "for a young girl has seen the crime and sends him to prison for ten years." "Annie?" asked Frances. "Oui. Later, when he has the opportunity to come to England, and even more meets this same girl at a picnic, the temptation is too great. He seizes a butter knife, unconsciously copying Charlie, and waits for his chance. It comes, he strikes, and Mademoiselle Francis thinks it is Charlie in the poor light. Fin de l'histoire. Miss Nina's little grey cells come through. I believe," he added, seeing my father's look of pride, "I know which side of the family they came from."
The End
When I first went to England, it was for my older sister's graduation. It wasn't Frances's graduation, I had been really sorry to miss that, but Judith's. I had missed my brother Charlie's graduation from medical school too, but that was nothing terrible. I didn't actually remember him very well because he left home when I was almost five. My only recollection of Charlie was of him standing in the middle of a jungle, half of his face ripped off, and the other half looking grey, as if he was about to be sick. Frances I remember perfectly well, even though she officially left two years before Charlie. Frances was my best friend and second mother growing up. I only saw Frances one time after she left for London. It was when my mother died. Mother doesn't have a body in my memories. She is a snatch of a song and a warm hug. I think that mother's death was the turning point of everything. Charlie went away, Frances left for good, my father started sighing, and Judith retreated a bit inside herself. I got the invitation when I came back from school.
dear all stop i'll be graduating in june stop please
come stop charlie, frances, and sandra will be there stop sincerely judith Once I had stopped reading I rushed out to tell Father at once. "Judith sent a telegram! She invited us to her graduation." "Oh, really?" Father took the paper out of my hand and read it over. I saw his grimace at the end, which meant that he didn't really appreciate Judith's formal signature. "Well, we'll have to start getting ready, won't we?"
We brought Pedro along on our trip. Judith and Charlie had always been his favorites. I was extremely excited during the whole voyage. It was my first overseas trip and what made it all the better for me was the unchecked excitement of my Father. He kept muttering and pacing all the while and when we finally docked at Plymouth he rushed as if with wings to get us on the train to London. The trip to London was amazing. I had never seen so much green in the same place. Also, it was fun to eavesdrop into other people's conversations to try and hear all the different British accents. I had assumed they were all like Father's but some were much more interesting. Father kept pointing out the window and murmuring things like, "Exeter! Went there once as a boy!" I think I must have fallen asleep, for when I woke up, Father was shaking me. "We've arrived Nina!" "Are we going to see Judith first?" "Ah, no. We're going to where we're staying and then we'll drop Pedro at his destination." "You'll be staying somewhere different?" I inquired of Pedro. "Yes senorita. I will be staying with your brother." Father's brow furrowed, but he found us a cab and soon we were pulling up in front of a rather tall, square building. I must have exclaimed something to the effect of, "What the.....?" for Father said, "This is Portland Place. I stayed here when I lived here and we'll be rooming with a friend of mine for our stay." I remembered a name that kept recurring in Judith's letters. "Mr. Poirot?" "I say! How did you know that?" "Judith wrote me about him. It seems that he scares Charlie a bit." "I don't doubt it," smiled Father. We left our bags at Portland Place to be sent up to Mr. Poirot's rooms, and then we drove to where Charlie was staying. The Crescent Hotel was an inexpensive, but truly pretty place. We asked for Charlie's room and were sent up because he was expecting us. I, on the other hand, didn't know what to expect. I really didn't think that his face would still be bleeding, but I had to keep down a shiver of horror when I thought of my brother. Father knocked. "Coming!" A wave of relief washed over me. His voice wasn't deep, or gravelly, instead in had a rather melodic ring to it that made me think of a crackling fire and someone reading out of a book. However, I still wondered what this brother of mine looked like. I expected that he would think me a spoiled brat; almost everyone did though I worked hard not to be one. The doorknob turning broke into my reverie, so slowly, it seemed, that he must have been doing it on purpose to frighten me. "Well, well, well! What have we here?" and he opened the door.
No monster stood there. It was only a tall, dark haired, young man with black eyes and a pleasing expression. The only thing that remained to remind me of that terrible day in the jungle was a thick red line that ran down the side of his face. His face broke into a large smile. "Pedro! Father! Nina! I didn't expect you for another day! Do come in! I'm sorry it took me so long to open the door, the hinges here are not the best and the filthy swine, sorry Nina, of a manager forgot to fix it before I arrived." He turned to me and looked me over. I felt like I did in Dr. Paldito's office, and then I recalled that Charlie too was a doctor. "My word! So it worked!" "What worked?" I asked. "Minime-frances-no-nyet-nine-non Syndrome. It's done you some good." "Excuse me?" I asked, somewhat baffled. Father was also looking at him with a puzzled expression, but Pedro was smiling indulgently. "I am pleased to see you again Mister Charlie." "And I you, Pedro old chap. You can sleep on the bed if you wish and I can take the couch. Where are you staying?" He turned towards Father and I with an inquisitive air. I wondered if he had learned all these flowery British phrases at Oxford. "At Poirot's," replied Father. "Ah ha." We told Charlie that we'd see him the next day for the pre-graduation festivities and then we took a cab back to Portland Place. "Are we going to see Frances after this?" I asked. Father had been looking out the window. "Hmmmm?" "I said.... never mind." "We're going to see Judith and Frances tomorrow at the picnic for the scientists at Reagent's Park." "I see." As the cabby parked the taxi in front of the apartments and said, "Four 'n six Guv," Father got out and went inside. I turned to the cabby and shrugged, handing him the money I kept in my sock. "Tha's only four luv." "I'm sorry. Does it matter?" "Not really. Ou' you get." I got out of the taxi and soon it sped away, leaving me alone on the sidewalk. A man in brown bumped into me going in to the building. "Sorry miss." He tipped his hat and looked down at me, puzzled. "'Aven't I seen you somewhere before?" "Not likely. I just arrived in England." Then, struck with a sudden idea, "Do you know which floor Mr. Hercule Poirot is on?" "I was just going up there myself." I followed the man into an elevator. I had read about them, of course, but to find myself in one was an odd feeling. I must have let out an exclamation or the like, for the man turned towards me to ask me something else. "From far away?" "As far as it gets." "Where exact..." But his words were cut off by the arrival of the elevator at its destination. I followed him out of the elevator. He knocked at the door and then, struck by a sudden thought, he whirled around. The door opened at that very moment. My father stood in the doorway, his face wearing such a look of complete elation that I almost didn't recognize him. I heard the man next to me whisper, "Blimey!" and then a rather incomprehensible babble broke out. "....thought you were sunk in the Amazon....." "That's in Brazil......" "...never writing, sending all your children to Poirot and not tellin' me..." "...been a bit busy..." All the mayhem was silenced by the arrival of a short, somewhat round little man, with an egg shaped head and the biggest moustache that I'm sure there ever was. "Mon ami Hastings, le bon Japp, are we going to make this lovely young lady stand out in the hallway all day? Non, you will both move aside and we will have a little tisane." Father pulled a face, but we all followed the little man, Mr. Poirot, quite willingly. Once we were inside, Mr. Poirot turned to the man in brown. "Chief Inspector Japp, this is the beautiful fourth daughter of the Hastings. Nina, is it not?" he inquired, glancing at me. "Y-yes," I stammered. "Pleasure," said Chief Inspector Japp, holding out his hand. At this point I left. I would be sleeping on a little cot in Father's room. As I unpacked my things, I wondered what my other siblings would be like. Would my reunion be as joyful as Poirot, Japp, and Father's?
"Nina!" A cry rang out across Reagent's Park. I turned around from my post at Father's side while we looked for my wayward relations. Frances was walking quickly across the grass. She was taller then she had been, with brownish blonde hair and astonishing blue eyes. I broke into a run. We hugged each other and then Frances said, "You're twelve now, right?" "A week ago, and you're twenty five." She laughed and we made our way over to Father. Frances's eyes, which were sparkling as she embraced Father, grew dark as she looked over his shoulder. Pedro and Charlie were walking towards us over the grass. I thought I heard Frances murmur, "What is he doing here?" under her breath, but I couldn't be sure. Outwardly, she was doing her best to compose her face, which had turned pale. "What..." but I was silenced by a motion from her hand. "Hello senorita Frances!" called Pedro. "Pedro," Frances coldly acknowledged him with a nod. She smiled at Charlie, but all greetings were cut short by the arrival of two girls. One of them was Judith. She was no taller. Her black hair was combed back from her face rather carelessly. Her face broke into a smile as she saw Charlie and Pedro. She also managed a smile for Frances, and she hugged Father and I, but they were hugs without warmth. The second girl was a stranger to me. Perhaps this was the Sandra mentioned in the telegram. Sandra, for Judith's introduction proved me right, was of medium height, with reddish auburn hair and rather sad eyes. These eyes lost some of their sadness when they beheld Charlie, and a grin spread across her face. She smiled warmly at Frances and shook Father, Pedro, and my hands. She seemed a thoroughly pleasant girl, and clearly Charlie was taken with her, for a brief flush spread across his face, followed by a not very convincing frown. "I'm very pleased to meet you Miss Kyte," said Father, sighing. "Oh, please call me Sandra." I thought she would say the accustomed "so-and-so has told me soooo much about you" but she did not. "Shall we go to the tents and get some lunch?" asked Charlie. "I'm devilishly hungry." "I'm under the impression that that's what we're here for," said Judith dryly. In the tents we met a rather round girl who Frances waylaid and introduced to us as Annie Fitzwalter, her former roommate. Apparently Annie's younger brother was graduating also. After lunch, which was rather late in the evening, it began to get dark, so Father suggested a walk. Pedro and Charlie went off with Sandra and Judith for a ramble, while Frances and Annie declined and said that they would go sit by the pond instead. Father and I strolled off. About a half an hour later, we headed back to the tents to collect our picnic basket and leave. I was a little way behind Father, sniffing the English air and feeling absolutely at peace with the world, when a bloodcurdling scream rent through the air. I started running towards Father. It died down, only to rise again in a piercing wail and disappear.
Father was already running in the direction of the screams, and soon I lost him in the crowd. I myself wanted to know the reason of these cries. I had only once before felt terror such as this, and that was when a fully-grown jaguar was looking at me and licking its lips. I followed the crowd of graduates and their families who were running in the same direction. Soon, the pond loomed ahead, its water black as the light failed. At the sight of the pond I was filled with an unreasonable terror. Hadn't Frances gone to the pond? Yes she had, but wasn't that Frances leaning against a tree? I started elbowing my way to her and soon stood before her. She was pale and shaking, her eyes darting back and forth, with a look of sublime fear. Her hands clutched her stomach and she looked as if she were going to be sick. "Frances, what...." I was cut off by Charlie, who had come from the woods. His sudden appearance caused Frances to jump. He also seemed shocked by her state and advanced towards her with his arms open. "What is it Franny?" Instead of telling him everything, Frances shrank away from his embrace and started crying, large tears rolling down her face. The mysterious way Frances was acting caused me to try to find out some more about what had gone on. I elbowed my way over to the edge of the pond. The first person I saw was Sandra. She too was looking rather queasy, but her scientist's training had her ready for anything. Judith was standing beside her, her face closed, her eyes dark, but her hands darting back and forth, back and forth like two nervous butterflies. Pedro and Father were bending down, looking at something. I got closer, and a shudder shook my frame. I would have fallen had Pedro not suddenly caught sight of me and caught me. Father turned towards us. His eyes were serious; none of the old vacancy was there. "Get Nina out of here Pedro, and get Mr. Poirot and the police." Pedro bore me away, but I had already seen it. Pedro and Father had been looking at a corpse. It was Annie, and she was stabbed with a butter knife.
I woke up the next morning with a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I rolled over on my cot and recalled the terrible events of the night before. At once I glanced at my father's bed. He was in it and snoring steadily, but he was fully dressed and didn't look as if he had been there long. I wrapped my dressing gown around me and entered the small sitting room. Mr. Poirot was there, looking as if he had slept well, just about to start tapping on a hard boiled egg. I had eaten nothing since about three the previous day, so the sight of the egg filled me with hunger. "May I join you?" "But of course ma petite." I sat down at the small coffee table right across from Mr. Poirot, and bit into a piece of toast. Mr. Poirot took no notice of me, but I just had to ask him something. "Who did it?" I blurted out, before I thought about what I was saying. "You speak of the unfortunate death of Mademoiselle Annie, no?" I choked out my answer, "Yes." Mr. Poirot's comical face sobered. He put aside the breakfast tray and looked me straight in the eye. "I was hoping you could aid me with that." After I told Mr. Poirot all of the events of the night before, he stood up and went over to the telephone. "Chief Inspector Japp please." He paused, waiting to be connected. "Japp?" Pause. "Ah, who?" Pause. "Yes, I have." Pause. "Who? Mais, repetez." Another pause, longer now, then all the others. "Oh mon Dieu." Poirot sat down heavily on the couch. "Very well then Japp. Yes I will. Good-bye." He hung up, and turned to me with an expression that already told me half of the truth. "Your brother Charlie has been arrested for the murder of Annie Fitzwalter."
Sitting in Chief Inspector Japp's office later that day, I ran over the events in my head. Charlie had appeared out of the woods, from the direction of the pond. He had left with Judith, Sandra, and Pedro, but he was not with them at the crime scene. Frances had shrunk away from him, as if he were a ghost. At the bottom of it all, was the butter knife, and the remembrance of the fearless and merciless way Charlie had killed that jaguar. Things looked very black for him, even if we could dig up something good for him, it still would be outweighed by negative charges. I bent my head to hide the wetness in my eyes. I didn't remember Charlie very well, but he was my brother. He had saved my life. I owed him as great a debt as there were stars in the sky, and this was the time to pay it back. I stood up. Father asked me where I was going and I mumbled something about the powder room. As I left the office, Japp entered it. To tell the honest truth, I didn't want to witness my father's grief anymore, and I thought that an awkward scene would arise with friend challenging friend. It the waiting room, Judith and Sandra were sitting side by side and Frances was a few chairs off. Pedro was sitting close to Judith, but as far away from Frances as possible. As soon as I entered the room, Sandra glanced up hurriedly, but said nothing. My guess was that she was a little nervous to say anything in front of everyone else, so I asked her if I could talk to her and we both entered the powder room. Once inside, Sandra imploded. She seemed to get shorter, and her face paled. She had to lean against the rim of the sink for support and when she spoke her voice was barely above a whisper. "He didn't do it." What she said was more than a wish, she seemed certain. "How do you know?" Sandra seemed reluctant to explain herself, when she did, and it was with much hesitation. "Charlie and I have had an affection for each other for a long time, so when we went off with Judith and Pedro, we let then wander ahead and we walked slowly, taking in the night. Soon we came upon the pond and Charlie told me to stop and sit down on a bench. We talked for a little bit, and then Charlie seemed to get preoccupied. He kept glancing at his watch and fidgeting. At about quarter to seven, he...." Sandra trailed off and a look of pain crossed her face. "At quarter to seven, he...." I prompted. "He got down on his knees and proposed to me. I said yes." All thought of the moment fled from my mind. "Congratulations!" I exclaimed, and then I could have bitten my tongue for the fresh look of suffering on Sandra's face. She went on, "We separated and on my way back I met Judith. Pedro had left to look for Frances earlier and..." I cut her off, "What? Pedro had left.... we've got to tell Japp!" I virtually dragged Sandra out of the powder room and we swept by an astonished waiting room and into Japp's office. "Listen to Sandra!" I exclaimed, thrusting her into my vacated seat. "I believe she has something to tell you."
That night, we congregated at Poirot's. Charlie joined us, sitting next to Sandra, a diamond sparkling on her finger, but Pedro wasn't one of our company. Poirot explained it all. "Pedro has killed a man. He thinks he is free-scot..." "Scot-free," murmured Charlie. "....but he is not," continued Poirot, not heeding Charlie, "for a young girl has seen the crime and sends him to prison for ten years." "Annie?" asked Frances. "Oui. Later, when he has the opportunity to come to England, and even more meets this same girl at a picnic, the temptation is too great. He seizes a butter knife, unconsciously copying Charlie, and waits for his chance. It comes, he strikes, and Mademoiselle Francis thinks it is Charlie in the poor light. Fin de l'histoire. Miss Nina's little grey cells come through. I believe," he added, seeing my father's look of pride, "I know which side of the family they came from."
The End