lady who was in this country in the position of Caesar's wife. Sir Mortimer spoke with bitter disparagement of Fascists and Communists both of whom sought to undermine Democracy by every unfair machination known. He then proceeded to call witnesses.
The first was the Bishop of Northumbria.
Dr Henderson, the Bishop of Northumbria was one of the best-known figures in the English church, a man of great saintliness and integrity of character. He was broadminded, tolerant, and a fine preacher. He was loved and revered by all who knew him.
He went into the box and swore that between the dates mentioned Mrs Edward Ferrier had been staying in the Palace with himself and his wife. Worn out by her activities in good works, she had been recommended a thorough rest. Her visit had been kept a secret so as to obviate any worry from the Press.
An eminent doctor followed the Bishop and deposed to having ordered Mrs Ferrier rest and complete absence from worry.
A local general practitioner gave evidence to the effect that he had attended Mrs Ferrier at the Palace.
The next witness called was Thelma Andersen.
A thrill went round the Court when she entered the witness-box. Everyone realised at once what a strong resemblance the woman bore to Mrs Edward Ferrier.
'Your name is Thelma Andersen?'
'Yes.'
'You are a Danish subject?'
'Yes. Copenhagen is my home.'
'And you formerly worked at a cafe there?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Please tell us in your own words what happened on the 18th March last.'
'There is a gentleman who comes to my table there – an English gentleman. He tells me he works for an English paper – the X-ray News.'
'You are sure he mentioned that name – X-ray News?'
'Yes, I am sure – because, you see, I think at first it must be a medical paper. But no, it seems not so. Then he tells me there is an English film actress who wants to find a 'stand-in', and that I am just the type. I do not go to the pictures much, and I do not recognise the name he says, but he tells me, yes, she is very famous, and that she has not been well and so she wants someone to appear as her in public places, and for that she will pay very much money.'
'How much money did this gentleman offer you?'
'Five hundred pounds in English money. I do not at first believe – I think it is some trick, but he pays me at once half the money. So then, I give in my notice where I work.'
The tale went on. She had been taken to Paris, supplied with smart clothes, and had been provided with an 'escort'. 'A very nice Argentinian gentleman – very respectful, very polite.'
It was clear that the woman had thoroughly enjoyed herself. She had flown over to London and been taken there to certain 'Night Clubs' by her olive-skinned cavalier. She had been photographed in Paris with him. Some of the places to which she had gone were not, she admitted, quite nice… Indeed, they were not respectable! And some of the photographs taken, they too, had not been very nice. But these things, they had told her, were necessary for 'advertisement' – and Senor Ramon himself had always been most respectful.
In answer to questioning she declared that the name of Mrs Ferrier had never been mentioned and that she had had no idea that it was that lady she was supposed to be understudying. She had meant no harm. She identified certain photographs which were shown to her as having been taken of her in Paris and on the Riviera.
There was the hallmark of absolute honesty about Thelma Andersen. She was quite clearly a pleasant, but slightly stupid woman. Her distress at the whole thing, now that she understood it, was patent to everyone.
The defence was unconvincing. A frenzied denial of having any dealings with the woman Andersen. The photos in question had been brought to the London office and had been believed to be genuine. Sir Mortimer's closing speech roused enthusiasm. He described the whole thing as a dastardly political plot, formed to discredit the Prime Minister and his wife. All sympathy would be extended to the unfortunate Mrs Ferrier.
The verdict, a foregone conclusion, was given amidst unparallelled scenes. Damages were assessed at an enormous figure. As Mrs Ferrier and her husband and father left the court they were greeted by the appreciative roars of a vast crowd.
XI
Edward Ferrier grasped Poirot warmly by the hand.
He said: 'I thank you, M. Poirot, a thousand times. Well, that finishes the X-ray News. Dirty little rag. They're wiped out completely. Serves them right for cooking up such a scurrilous plot. Against Dagmar, too, the kindliest creature in the world. Thank goodness you managed to expose the whole thing for the wicked ramp it was… What put you on to the idea that they might be using a double?'
'It is not a new idea,' Poirot reminded him. 'It was employed successfully in the case of Jeanne de la Motte when she impersonated Marie Antoinette.'
'I know. I must re-read The Queen's Necklace. But how did you actually find the woman they were employing?'
'I looked for her in Denmark, and I found her there.'
'But why Denmark?'
'Because Mrs Ferrier's grandmother was a Dane, and she herself is a markedly Danish type. And there were other reasons.'
'The resemblance is certainly striking. What a devilish idea! I wonder how the little rat came to think of it?'
Poirot smiled.
'But he did not.'
He tapped himself on the chest.
'I thought of it!'
Edward Ferrier stared. 'I don't understand. What do you mean?'
Poirot said: 'We must go back to an older story than that of The Queen's Necklace – to the cleansing of the Augean Stables. What Hercules used was a river – that is to say one of the great forces of Nature. Modernise that! What is a great force of Nature? Sex, is it not? It is the sex angle that sells stories, that makes news. Give people scandal allied to sex and it appeals far more than any mere political chicanery or fraud.
'Eh bien, that was my task! First to put my own hands in the mud like Hercules to build up a dam that should turn the course of that river. A journalistic friend of mine aided me. He searched Denmark until he found a suitable person to attempt the impersonation. He approached her, casually mentioned the X-ray News to her, hoping she would remember it. She did.
'And so, what happened? Mud – a great deal of mud! Caesar's wife is bespattered with it. Far more interesting to everybody than any political scandal. And the result – the denouement? Why, Reaction! Virtue vindicated! The pure woman cleared! A great tide of Romance and Sentiment sweeping through the Augean Stables.
'If all the newspapers in the country publish the news of John Hammett's defalcations now, no one will believe it. It will be put down as another political plot to discredit the Government.'
Edward Ferrier took a deep breath. For a moment Hercule Poirot came nearer to being physically assaulted than at any other time in his career.
'My wife! You dared to use her -'
Fortunately, perhaps, Mrs Ferrier herself entered the room at this moment.
'Well,' she said. 'That went off very well.'
'Dagmar, did you – know all along?'
