Agatha Christie - Dead Man’s Folly

Dead Man's Folly

Lunch was an early and quickly snatched affair of a cold buffet. At two-thirty a minor film star was to open the fte. The weather, after looking ominously like rain, began to improve. By three o'clock the fte was in full swing. People were paying the admission charge of half a crown in large numbers, and cars were lining one side of the long drive. Students from the Youth Hostel arrived in batches conversing loudly in foreign tongues. True to Mrs Masterton's forecast, Lady Stubbs had emerged from her bedroom just before half-past two, dressed in a cyclamen dress with an enormous coolie-shaped hat of black straw. She wore large quantities of diamonds.

Miss Brewis murmured sardonically:

Thinks it's the Royal Enclosure at Ascot, evidently!

But Poirot complimented her gravely.

It is a beautiful creation that you have on, Madame.

It is nice, isn't it, said Hattie happily. I wore it for Ascot.

The minor film star was arriving and Hattie moved forward to greet her.

Poirot retreated into the background. He wandered around disconsolately - everything seemed to be proceeding in the normal fashion of ftes. There was a coconut shy, presided over by Sir George in his heartiest fahion, a skittle alley and a hoop-la. There were various stalls displaying local produce of fruit, vegetables, jams and cakes - and others displaying fancy objects. There were raffles of cakes, of baskets of fruit; even, it seemed, of a pig; and a Lucky Dip for children at twopence a go.

There was a good crowd of people by now and an Exhibition of Children's Dancing began. Poirot saw no sign of Mrs Oliver, but Lady Stubbs's cyclamen pink figure showed up amongst the crowd as she drifted rather vaguely about. The focus of attention, however, seemed to be Mrs Folliat. She was quite transformed in appearance - wearing a hydrangea-blue foulard frock and a smart grey hat, she appeared to preside over the proceedings, greeting new arrivals, and directing people to the various side shows.

Poirot lingered near her and listened to some of the conversations.

Amy, my dear, how are you?

Oh, Pamela, how nice of you and Edward to come. Such a long way from Tiverton.

The weather's held for you. Remember the year before the war? Cloudburst came down about four o'clock. Ruined the whole show.

But it's been a wonderful summer this year. Dorothy! It's ages since I've seen you.

We felt we had to come and see Nasse in its glory. I see you've cut back the berberis on the bank.

Yes, it shows the hydrangeas better, don't you think?

How wonderful they are. What a blue! But, my dear, you've done wonders in the last year. Nasse is really beginning to look like itself again.

Dorothy's husband boomed in a deep voice:

Came over to see the commandant here during the war. Nearly broke my heart.

Mrs Folliat turned to greet a humbler visitor.

Mrs Knapper, I am pleased to see you. Is this Lucy? How she's grown!

She'll be leaving school next year. Pleased to see you looking so well, ma'am.

I'm very well, thank you. You must go and try your luck at hoop-la, Lucy. See you in the tea tent later, Mrs Knapper. I shall be helping with the teas.

An elderly man, presumably Mr Knapper, said diffidently:

Pleased to have you back at Nasse, ma'am. Seems like old times.

Mrs Folliat's response was drowned as two women and a big beefy man rushed towards her.

Amy, dear, such ages. This looks the greatest success! Do tell me what you've done about the rose garden. Muriel told me that you're restocking it with all the new floribundas.

The beefy man chipped in.

Where's Marylin Gale -?

Reggie's just dying to meet her. He saw her last picture.

That her in the big hat? My word, that's some get-up.

Don't be stupid, darling. That's Hattie Stubbs. You know, Amy, you really shouldn't let her go round quite so like a mannequin.

Amy? Another friend claimed attention. This is Roger, Edward's boy. My dear, so nice to have you back at Nasse.

Poirot moved slowly away and absent-mindedly invested a shilling on a ticket that might win him the pig.

He heard faintly still, the So good of you to come refrain from behind him. He wondered whether Mrs Folliat realised how completely she had slipped into the role of hostess or whether it was entirely unconscious. She was, very definitely this afternoon, Mrs Folliat of Nasse House.

He was standing by the tent labelled Madame Zuleika will tell your fortune for 2s. 6d. Teas had just begun to be served and there was no longer a queue for the fortune telling. Poirot bowed his head, entered the tent and paid over his half-crown willingly for the privilege of sinking into a chair and resting his aching feet.

Madame Zuleika was wearing flowing black robes, a gold tinsel scarf wound round her head and a veil across the lower half of her face which slightly ruffled her remarks. A gold bracelet hung with lucky charms tinkled as she took Poirot's hand and gave him a rapid reading, agreeably full of money to come, success with a dark beauty and a miraculous escape from an accident.

It is very agreeable all that you tell me, Madame Legge. I only wish that it could come true.

Oh! said Sally. So you know me, do you?

I had advance information - Mrs Oliver told me that you were originally to be the 'victim' but that you had been snatched from her for the Occult.

I wish I was being the 'body,' said Sally. Much more peaceful. All Jim Warburton's fault. Is it four o'clock yet? I want my tea. I'm off duty from four to half-past.

Ten minutes to go, still, said Poirot, consulting his large old-fashioned watch. Shall I bring a cup of tea here?

No, no. I want the break. This tent is stifling. Are there a lot of people waiting still?

No, I think they are lining up for tea.

Good.

Poirot emerged from the tent and was immediately challenged by a determined woman and made to pay sixpence and guess the weight of a cake.

A hoop-la stall presided over by a fat motherly woman urged him to try his luck and, much to discomfiture, he immediately won a large Kewpie doll. Walking sheepishly along with this he encountered Michael Weyman who was standing gloomy on the outskirts near the top of a path that led down to the quay.

You seem to have been enjoying yourself, M. Poirot, he said, with a sardonic grin.

Poirot contemplated his prize.

It is truly horrible, is it not? he said sadly.

A small child near him suddenly burst out crying. Poirot stooped swiftly and tucked the doll into the child's arm.

Voil, it is for you.

The tears ceased abruptly.

There - Violet - isn't the gentleman kind? Say, Ta, ever so

Children's Fancy Dress, called out Captain Warburton through a megaphone. The first class - three to five. Form up, please.

Poirot moved towards the house, and was cannoned into by a young man who was stepping backwards to take a better aim at a coconut. The young man scowled and Poirot apologised, mechanically, his eye held fascinated by the varied pattern of the young man's shirt. He recognised it as the turtle shirt of Sir George's description. Every kind of turtle, tortoise and sea monster appeared to be writhing and crawling over it.

Poirot blinked and was accosted by the Dutch girl to whom he had given a lift the day before.

So you have come to the fte, he said. And your friend?

Oh, yes, she, too, comes here this afternoon. I have not seen her yet, but we shall leave together by the bus that goes from the gates at five-fifteen. We go to Torquay and there I change to another bus for Plymouth. It is convenient.

This explained what had puzzled Poirot, the fact that the Dutch girl was perspiring under the weight of a rucksack.