The Monogram Murders(85)

Poirot proceeded with his explanations. “Reflect, ladies and gentlemen, upon the munificence, the largesse, of Mr. Richard Negus. Ah, how generous he was, insisting on paying for the food and the tea, also paying for Harriet and Ida each to travel alone to the hotel in a car. Why would they not come by train together and share a car to the hotel? And why should Richard Negus care so passionately about making sure that the bill for the food and beverages was sent to him, when he knew that he, Harriet Sippel and Ida Gransbury were all about to die?”

It was a very good question. All the points that Poirot was making were pertinent, and, moreover, were things I should have thought of myself. Somehow, I had failed to notice that so many aspects of Jennie Hobbs’s story did not fit with the facts of the case. How could I have missed such glaring inconsistencies?

Poirot said, “The man who impersonated Richard Negus at fifteen minutes past seven for the benefit of Rafal Bobak, and again at half past for the benefit of Mr. Thomas Brignell, did not care about any bill! He knew that neither he nor his accomplices would have to pay it. He had been outside to dispose of the food. How did he transport it? In a suitcase! Catchpool—do you remember the tramp you saw near the hotel, when we took our trip on a bus? A tramp eating food from a suitcase, non? You described him as ‘the tramp that got the cream.’ Tell me, did you see him eating cream specifically?”

“Oh, my goodness. Yes, I did! He was eating a . . . a cake, with cream in it.”

Poirot nodded. “From the suitcase he found discarded near the Bloxham Hotel, pleasingly full of afternoon tea for three! Now, here is another test for your memory, mon ami: do you remember telling me, on my first visit to the Bloxham, that Ida Gransbury had brought enough clothes with her to fill an entire wardrobe? And yet she had only one suitcase in her room—the same number as Richard Negus and Harriet Sippel, who had brought considerably fewer clothes with them. This afternoon, I asked you to pack Miss Gransbury’s garments into her case, and what did you find?”

“They wouldn’t fit,” I said, feeling like a prize chump. It seemed that I was doomed to feel idiotic in relation to Ida Gransbury’s suitcase, but now for a different reason from before.

“You blamed yourself,” said Poirot. “It is your preference to do so always, but in fact it was impossible for all the clothes to fit in, because they had been brought to the Bloxham in two suitcases. Even Hercule Poirot, he could not have made them fit!”

To the assembled hotel staff, he said, “It was on his way back from disposing of the suitcase full of food that this man met the Bloxham’s assistant clerk, Thomas Brignell, near the door to this room in which we are gathered. Why did he engage Brignell in discussion about the bill? For one reason only: to impress upon Brignell that Richard Negus was still alive at half past seven. Playing the role of Mr. Negus, he said something inaccurate: that Negus could afford to pay, whereas Harriet Sippel and Ida Gransbury could not. This was not true! Henry Negus, Richard’s brother, can confirm that Richard had no income and very little family money left. But the man impersonating Richard Negus did not know this. He assumed that since Richard Negus was a gentleman, once a lawyer by profession, he was bound to have plenty of money.

“When Henry Negus first spoke to Catchpool and myself, he told us that since moving to Devon, his brother Richard had been morose and doom laden. He was a recluse with no appetite for life—correct, Mr. Negus?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” said Henry Negus.

“A recluse! I ask you, does this sound like a man who would indulge himself in sherry and cake, and gossip in a cavalier fashion with two women in a fancy London hotel? No! The man who received the afternoon tea from Rafal Bobak, and for whom Thomas Brignell fetched the sherry, was not Richard Negus. This man, he complimented Mr. Brignell on his efficiency and said something approximating the following: ‘I know I can rely on you to sort this out, since you are so efficient—bill the food and beverages to me, Richard Negus, Room 238.’ His words were calculated to make Thomas Brignell believe that this man, this Richard Negus, was familiar with his level of efficiency, and that therefore they must have encountered one another before. Mr. Brignell might feel a little guilty, perhaps, because he does not remember his previous dealings with Mr. Negus—and he will resolve not to forget him again. He will remember from now on this man whom he has met twice. Naturally, working in a large London hotel, he meets people all the time, hundreds every day! It often happens, I am sure, that guests know his name and face while he has forgotten theirs—after all, they are simply, en masse, ‘the guests’!”

“Excuse me, Monsieur Poirot, I beg your pardon.” Luca Lazzari hurried forward. “Broadly speaking, you are quite right, but not, as chance would have it, in the case of Thomas Brignell. He has an exceptional memory for faces and names. Exceptional!”

Poirot smiled appreciatively. “Is that so? Bon. Then I am right.”

“About what?” I asked.

“Be patient and listen, Catchpool. I will explain the sequence of events. The man impersonating Richard Negus was in the lobby of the hotel when Mr. Negus checked in on Wednesday, the day before the murders. Probably he wanted to survey the territory in preparation for the role he was to play later. In any case, he saw Richard Negus arrive. How did he know it was Richard Negus? I will come back to that point. Suffice to say, he knew. He saw Thomas Brignell undertake the necessary paperwork and then hand Mr. Negus the key to his room. The following evening, after posing as Mr. Negus to receive the afternoon tea and then going outside to dispose of it, this man is on his way back to Room 317 and he passes Thomas Brignell. He is a quick-thinking individual, and he sees a superb opportunity to consolidate the misleading of the police. He approaches Brignell and addresses him as if he, this impostor, were Richard Negus. He reminds Brignell of his name and alludes to a previous meeting.