Read Online The Big Four by Agatha Christie - Free Book Online

“let us be up and at them.”
    â€œAdmirable, mon ami, admirable! Up where, and at whom? Be precise, I beg of you.”
    â€œAt the Big Four, of course.”
    â€œ Cela va sans dire . But how would you set about it?”
    â€œThe police,” I hazarded doubtfully.
    Poirot smiled.
    â€œThey would accuse us of romancing. We have nothing to go upon—nothing whatever. We must wait.”
    â€œWait for what?”
    â€œWait for them to make a move. See now, in England you all comprehend and adore la boxe . If one man does not make a move, the other must, and by permitting the adversary to make the attack one learns something about him. That is our part—to let the other side make the attack.”
    â€œYou think they will?” I said doubtfully.
    â€œI have no doubt whatever of it. To begin with, see, they try to get me out of England. That fails. Then, in the Dartmoor affair, we step in and save their victim from the gallows. And yesterday, once again, we interfere with their plans. Assuredly, they will not leave the matter there.”
    As I reflected on this, there was a knock on the door. Without waiting for a reply, a man stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He was a tall, thin man, with a slightly hooked nose and a sallow complexion. He wore an overcoat buttoned up to his chin, and a soft hat well pulled down over his eyes.
    â€œExcuse me, gentlemen, for my somewhat unceremonious entry,” he said in a soft voice, “but my business is of a rather unorthodox nature.”
    Smiling, he advanced to the table and sat down by it. I was about to spring up, but Poirot restrained me with a gesture.
    â€œAs you say, monsieur, your entry is somewhat unceremonious. Will you kindly state your business?”
    â€œMy dear M. Poirot, it is very simple. You have been annoying my friends.”
    â€œIn what way?”
    â€œCome, come, M. Poirot. You do not seriously ask me that? You know as well as I do.”
    â€œIt depends, monsieur, upon who these friends of yours are.”
    Without a word, the man drew from his pocket a cigarette case, and, opening it, took out four cigarettes and tossed them on the table. Then he picked them up and returned them to his case, which he replaced in his pocket.
    â€œAha!” said Poirot, “so it is like that, is it? And what do your friends suggest?”
    â€œThey suggest, monsieur, that you should employ your talents—your very considerable talents—in the detection of legitimate crime—return to your former avocations, and solve the problems of London society ladies.”
    â€œA peaceful programme,” said Poirot. “And supposing I do not agree?”
    The man made an eloquent gesture.
    â€œWe should regret it, of course, exceedingly,” he said. “So would all the friends and admirers of the great M. Hercule Poirot. But regrets, however poignant, do not bring a man to life again.”
    â€œPut very delicately,” said Poirot, nodding his head. “And supposing I—accept?”
    â€œIn that case I am empowered to offer you—compensation.”
    He drew out a pocketbook, and threw ten notes on the table. They were for ten thousand francs each.
    â€œThat is merely a guarantee of our good faith,” he said. “Ten times that amount will be paid you.”
    â€œGood God,” I cried, springing up, “you dare to think—”
    â€œSit down, Hastings,” said Poirot autocratically. “Subdue your so beautiful and honest nature and sit down. To you, monsieur, Iwill say this. What is to prevent me ringing up the police and giving you into their custody, whilst my friend here prevents you from escaping?”
    â€œBy all means do so if you think it advisable,” said our visitor calmly.
    â€œOh! look here, Poirot,” I cried. “I can’t stand this. Ring up the police and have done with it.”
    Rising swiftly, I strode to the