CHAPTER 6. We Go to Littlegreen House
I dont know what Poirot felt like in his coat and muffler but I myself felt roasted before we got out of London. An open car in traffic is far from being a refreshing place on a hot summers day.
Once we were outside London, however, and getting a bit of pace on the Great West Road my spirits rose[111].
Our drive took us about an hour and a half, and it was close upon twelve oclock when we came into the little town of Market Basing. Originally on the main road, a modern by-pass now left it some three miles to the north of the main stream of traffic and in consequence it had kept an air of old-fashioned dignity and quietude about it. Its one wide street and ample market square seemed to say, I was a place of importance once and to any person of sense and breeding I am still the same. Let this modern speeding world dash along their new-fangled road; I was built to endure in a day when solidarity and beauty went hand in hand.
There was a parking area in the middle of the big square, though there were only a few cars occupying it. I duly parked the Austin, Poirot divested himself of his superfluous garments, assured himself that his moustaches were in their proper condition of symmetrical flamboyance and we were then ready to proceed.
For once in a way our first tentative inquiry did not meet with the usual response, Sorry, but Im a stranger in these parts. It would seem indeed probable that there were no strangers in Market Basing! It had that effect! Already, I felt, Poirot and myself (and especially Poirot) were somewhat noticeable. We tended to stick out from the mellow background of an English market town secure in its traditions.
Littlegreen House? The man, a burly, ox-eyed fellow, looked us over thoughtfully. You go straight up the High Street and you cant miss it. On your left. Theres no name on the gate, but its the first big house after the bank. He repeated again, You cant miss it.
His eyes followed us as we started on our course.
Dear me[112], I complained. There is something about this place that makes me feel extremely conspicuous. As for you, Poirot, you look positively exotic.
You think it is noticed that I am a foreigneryes? The fact cries aloud to heaven, I assured him.
And yet my clothes are made by an English tailor, mused Poirot.
Clothes are not everything, I said. It cannot be denied, Poirot, that you have a noticeable personality. I have often wondered that it has not hindered you in your career.
Poirot sighed.
That is because you have the mistaken idea implanted in your head that a detective is necessarily a man who puts on a false beard and hides behind a pillar! The false beard, it is vieux jeu[113], and shadowing is only done by the lowest branch of my profession. The Hercule Poirots, my friend, need only to sit back in a chair and think.
Which explains why we are walking along this exceedingly hot street on an exceedingly hot morning.
That is very neatly replied, Hastings. For once, I admit, you have made the score off me.[114]
We found Littlegreen House easily enough, but a shock awaited usa house-agents board.
As we were staring at it, a dogs bark attracted my attention.
The bushes were thin at that point and the dog could be easily seen. He was a wire-haired terrier, somewhat shaggy as to coat. His feet were planted wide apart, slightly to one side, and he barked with an obvious enjoyment of his own performance that showed him to be actuated by the most amiable motives.
Good watchdog, arent I? he seemed to be saying. Dont mind me![115] This is just my fun! My duty too, of course. Just have to let em[116] know theres a dog about the place! Deadly dull morning. Quite a blessing to have something to do. Coming into our place? Hope so. Its darned dull. I could do with[117] a little conversation.
Hallo[118], old man, I said and shoved forward a fist.
Craning his neck through the railings he sniffed suspiciously, then gently wagged his tail, uttering a few short staccato barks.
Not been properly introduced, of course, have to keep this up! But I see you know the proper advances to make.
Good old boy, I said.
Wuff, said the terrier amiably.
Well, Poirot? I said, desisting from this conversation and turning to my friend.
There was an odd expression on his faceone that I could not quite fathom. A kind of deliberately suppressed excitement seems to describe it best.
The Incident of the Dogs Ball, he murmured. Well, at least, we have here a dog.
Wuff, observed our new friend. Then he sat down, yawned widely and looked at us hopefully.
What next? I asked.
The dog seemed to be asking the same question.
Parbleu[119], to Messrswhat is itMessrs Gabler and Stretcher.
That does seem indicated, I agreed.
We turned and retraced our steps, our canine acquaintance sending a few disgusted barks after us.
The premises of Messrs Gabler and Stretcher were situated in the Market Square. We entered a dim outer office where we were received by a young woman with adenoids and a lack-lustre eye[120].
Good morning, said Poirot politely.
The young woman was at the moment speaking into a telephone but she indicated a chair and Poirot sat down. I found another and brought it forward.
I couldnt say, Im sure, said the young woman into the telephone vacantly. No, I dont know what the rates would be Pardon? Oh, main water, I think, but, of course, I couldnt be certain Im very sorry, Im sure No, hes out No, I couldnt say Yes, of course Ill ask him Yes8135? Im afraid I havent quite got it[121]. Oh893539 Oh, 5135 Yes, Ill ask him to ring youafter six Oh, pardon, before six Thank you so much.
She replaced the receiver, scribbled 5319 on the blotting-pad and turned a mildly inquiring but uninterested gaze on Poirot.
Poirot began briskly.
I observe that there is a house to be sold just on the outskirts of this town. Littlegreen House, I think is the name.
Pardon?
A house to be let or sold, said Poirot slowly and distinctly. Littlegreen House.
Oh, Littlegreen House, said the young woman vaguely. Littlegreen House, did you say?
That is what I said.
Littlegreen House, said the young woman, making a tremendous mental effort. Oh, well, I expect Mr Gabler would know about that.
Can I see Mr Gabler?
Hes out, said the young woman with a kind of faint, anaemic satisfaction as of one who says, A point to me.
Do you know when he will be in?
I couldnt say, Im sure, said the young woman.
You comprehend, I am looking for a house in this neighbourhood, said Poirot.
Oh, yes, said the young woman, uninterested.
And Littlegreen House seems to me just what I am looking for. Can you give me particulars?
Particulars? The young woman seemed startled.
Particulars of Littlegreen House.
Particulars of Littlegreen House.
Unwillingly she opened a drawer and took out an untidy file of papers.
Then she called, John.
A lanky youth sitting in a corner looked up.
Yes, miss.
Have we got any particulars ofwhat did you say?
Littlegreen House, said Poirot distinctly.
Youve got a large bill of it here, I remarked, pointing to the wall.
She looked at me coldly. Two to one, she seemed to think, was an unfair way of playing the game. She called up her own reinforcements.
You dont know anything about Littlegreen House, do you, John?
No, miss. Should be in the file.
Im sorry, said the young woman without looking so in the least[122]. I rather fancy we must have sent all the particulars out.
Cest dommage.[123]
Pardon?
A pity.
Weve a nice bungalow at Hemel End, two bed., one sitt.[124]
She spoke without enthusiasm, but with the air of one willing to do her duty by her employer.
I thank you, no.
And a semi-detached[125] with small conservatory. I could give you particulars of that.
No, thank you. I desired to know what rent you were asking for Littlegreen House.
Its not to be rented, said the young woman, abandoning her position of complete ignorance of anything to do with Littlegreen House in the pleasure of scoring a point. Only to be sold outright.
The board says, To be Let or Sold.
I couldnt say as to that, but its for sale only.
At this stage in the battle the door opened and a greyhaired, middle-aged man entered with a rush. His eye, a militant one, swept over us with a gleam. His eyebrows asked a question of his employee.
This is Mr Gabler, said the young woman.
Mr Gabler opened the door of an inner sanctum with a flourish[126].
Step in here, gentlemen. He ushered us in, an ample gesture swept us into chairs and he himself was facing us across a flat-topped desk.
And now what can I do for you?
Poirot began again perseveringly.
I desired a few particulars of Littlegreen House
He got no further. Mr Gabler took command[127].
Ah! Littlegreen Housetheres a property! An absolute bargain. Only just come into the market. I can tell you gentlemen, we dont often get a house of that class going at the price. Tastes swinging round. People are fed up with[128] jerry-building[129]. They want sound stuff. Good, honest building. A beautiful propertycharacterfeelingGeorgian[130] throughout. Thats what people want nowadaystheres a feeling for period houses[131] if you understand what I mean. Ah, yes, Littlegreen House wont be long in the market. Itll be snapped up[132]. Snapped up! A member of Parliament came to look at it only last Saturday. Liked it so much hes coming down again this weekend. And theres a stock exchange[133] gentleman after it too. People want quiet nowadays when they come to the country, want to be well away from main roads. Thats all very well for some people, but we attract class here. And thats what that house has got. Class! Youve got to admit, they knew how to build for gentlemen in those days. Yes, we shant have Littlegreen long on our books.
Mr Gabler, who, it occurred to me, lived up to his name[134] very happily, paused for breath.
Has it changed hands often in the last few years? inquired Poirot.
On the contrary. Been in one family over fifty years. Name of Arundell. Very much respected in the town. Ladies of the old school.
He shot up, opened the door and called:
Particulars of Littlegreen House, Miss Jenkins. Quickly now.