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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #67173 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67173)
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-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 67173 ***
-
-
-
-
-                           The Missing Will
-
-             Hercule Poirot Solves an Extraordinary Case
-                          by Agatha Christie
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The problem presented to us by Miss Violet Marsh made a rather
-pleasant change from our usual routine work. Poirot had received a
-brisk and businesslike note from the lady asking for an appointment,
-and he had replied, asking her to call upon him at eleven o’clock the
-following day.
-
-She arrived punctually—a tall, handsome young woman, plainly but
-neatly dressed, with an assured and businesslike manner—clearly, a
-young woman who meant to get on in the world. I am not a great admirer
-of the so-called New Woman myself, and in spite of her good looks, I
-was not particularly prepossessed in her favor.
-
-“My business is of a somewhat unusual nature, M. Poirot,” she began,
-after she had accepted a chair. “I had better begin at the beginning
-and tell you the whole story.”
-
-“If you please, mademoiselle.”
-
-“I am an orphan. My father was one of two brothers, sons of a small
-yeoman farmer in Devonshire. The farm was a poor one, and the eldest
-brother, Andrew, emigrated to Australia, where he did very well
-indeed, and by means of successful speculation in land became a very
-rich man. The younger brother, Roger, my father, had no leanings
-toward the agricultural life. He managed to educate himself a little,
-and obtained a post as a clerk in a small firm. He married slightly
-above him; my mother was the daughter of a poor artist. My father died
-when I was six years old. When I was fourteen, my mother followed him
-to the grave. My only living relation then was my Uncle Andrew, who
-had recently returned from Australia and bought a small place in his
-native county, Crabtree Manor. He was exceedingly kind to his
-brother’s orphan child, took me to live with him, and treated me in
-every way as though I were his own daughter.
-
-“Crabtree Manor,” she pursued, “in spite of its name, is really only
-an old farmhouse. Farming was in my uncle’s blood, and he was
-intensely interested in various modern farming experiments. Although
-kindness itself to me, he had certain peculiar and deeply rooted ideas
-as to the upbringing of women. Himself a man of little or no
-education, though possessing remarkable shrewdness, he placed little
-value on what he called ‘book knowledge.’ He was especially opposed to
-the education of women. In his opinion, girls should learn practical
-housework and dairy work, be useful about the home, and have as little
-to do with book-learning as possible. He proposed to bring me up on
-these lines, to my bitter disappointment.
-
-“I rebelled frankly. I knew that I possessed a good brain, and had
-absolutely no talent for domestic duties. My uncle and I had many
-bitter arguments on the subject, for though much attached to each
-other, we were both self-willed. I was lucky enough to win a
-scholarship, and up to a certain point was successful in getting my
-own way. The crisis arose when I resolved to go to Girton. I had a
-little money of my own, left me by my mother, and I was quite
-determined to make the best use of the gifts God had given me. I had
-one long final argument with my uncle. He put the facts plainly before
-me. He had no other relations, and he had intended me to be his sole
-heiress. As I have told you, he was a very rich man. If I persisted in
-these ‘newfangled notions’ of mine, however, I need look for nothing
-from him. I remained polite, but firm. I should always be deeply
-attached to him, but I must lead my own life. We parted on that note.
-‘You fancy your brains, my girl,’ were his last words. ‘I’ve no
-book-learning, but for all that, I’ll pit mine against yours any day.
-We’ll see what we shall see.’
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-“That was nine years ago. I have stayed with him for a week-end
-occasionally, and our relations were perfectly amicable, though his
-views remained unaltered. He never referred to my having matriculated,
-nor to my B. Sc. For the last three years his health has been failing,
-and a month ago he died. I am now coming to the point of my visit. My
-uncle left a most extraordinary will. By its terms, Crabtree Manor and
-its contents are to be at my disposal for a year from his
-death—‘during which time my clever niece may prove her wits,’ the
-actual words run. At the end of that period, ‘my wits having proved
-better than hers,’ the house and all my uncle’s large fortune pass to
-various charitable institutions.”
-
-“That is a little hard on you, mademoiselle,” commented Poirot,
-“seeing that you were Mr. Marsh’s only blood relation.”
-
-“I do not look on it in that way. Uncle Andrew warned me fairly, and I
-chose my own path. Since I would not fall in with his wishes, he was
-at perfect liberty to leave his money to whom he pleased.”
-
-“Was the will drawn up by a lawyer?”
-
-“No; it was written on a printed will-form and witnessed by the man
-and his wife who lived in the house and looked after my uncle.”
-
-“There might be a possibility of upsetting such a will?”
-
-“I would not even attempt to do such a thing.”
-
-“You regard it, then, as a sporting challenge on the part of your
-uncle?”
-
-“That is exactly how I look upon it.”
-
-“It bears that interpretation, certainly,” said Poirot thoughtfully.
-“Somewhere in this rambling old manor house your uncle has concealed
-either a sum of money in notes, or possibly a second will, and has
-given you a year in which to exercise your ingenuity to find it.”
-
-“Exactly, M. Poirot, and I am paying you the compliment of assuming
-that your ingenuity will be greater than mine.”
-
-“Eh, eh! But that is very charming of you. My gray cells are at your
-disposal. You have made no search yourself?”
-
-“Only a cursory one, but I have too much respect for my uncle’s
-undoubted abilities to fancy that the task will be an easy one.”
-
-“Have you the will, or a copy of it with you?”
-
-Miss Marsh handed a document across the table. Poirot ran through it,
-nodding to himself.
-
-“Made three years ago. Dated March 25, and the time is given
-also—eleven a. m.—that is very suggestive. It narrows the field of
-search. Assuredly it is another will we have to seek for. A will made
-even half an hour later would upset this. _Eh bien_, mademoiselle, it
-is a problem charming and ingenious that you have presented to me
-here. I shall have all the pleasure in the world in solving it for
-you. Granted that your uncle was a man of ability, his gray cells
-cannot have been of the quality of Hercule Poirot’s!”
-
-(Really, Poirot’s vanity is blatant!)
-
-“Fortunately, I have nothing of moment on hand at the minute. Hastings
-and I will go down to Crabtree Manor tonight. The man and wife who
-attended on your uncle are still there, I presume?”
-
-“Yes, their name is Baker.”
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-The following morning saw us started on the hunt proper. We had
-arrived late the night before. Mr. and Mrs. Baker, having received a
-telegram from Miss Marsh, were expecting us. They were a pleasant
-couple, the man gnarled and pink-cheeked like a shriveled pippin, and
-his wife a woman of vast proportions and true Devonshire calm.
-
-Tired with our journey, including an eight-mile drive from the
-station, we had retired at once to bed after a supper of roast
-chicken, apple pie and Devonshire cream. We had now disposed of an
-excellent breakfast, and were sitting in a small paneled room which
-had been the late Mr. Marsh’s study and living-room. A roll-top desk
-stuffed with papers, all neatly docketed, stood against the wall, and
-a big leather armchair showed plainly that it had been its owner’s
-constant resting-place. A big chintz-covered settee ran along the
-opposite wall, and the deep low window-seats were covered with the
-same faded chintz of an old-fashioned pattern.
-
-“_Eh bien, mon ami_,” said Poirot, lighting one of his tiny
-cigarettes, “we must map out our plan of campaign. Already I have made
-a rough survey of the house, but I am of opinion that any clue will be
-found in this room. We shall have to go through the documents in the
-desk with meticulous care. Naturally I do not expect to find the will
-among them, but it is likely that some apparently innocent paper may
-conceal the clue to its hiding-place. But first we must have a little
-information. Ring the bell, I pray of you.”
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-I did so. While we were waiting for it to be answered, Poirot walked
-up and down, looking about him approvingly.
-
-“A man of method, this Mr. Marsh. See how neatly the packets of papers
-are docketed; and the key to each drawer has its ivory label—so has
-the key of the china-cabinet on the wall. And see with what precision
-the china within is arranged! It rejoices the heart. Nothing here
-offends the eye—”
-
-He came to an abrupt pause, as his eye was caught by the key of the
-desk itself, to which a dirty envelope was affixed. Poirot frowned at
-it, and withdrew it from the lock. On it were scrawled the words “_Key
-of Roll-top Desk_” in a crabbed handwriting quite unlike the neat
-superscriptures on the other keys.
-
-“An alien note,” said Poirot, frowning. “I could swear that here we
-have no longer the personality of Mr. Marsh. But who else has been in
-the house? Only Miss Marsh; and she, if I mistake not, is also a young
-lady of method and order.”
-
-Baker came in answer to the bell.
-
-“Will you fetch Madame your wife and answer a few questions?”
-
-Baker departed, and in a few moments returned with Mrs. Baker, wiping
-her hands on her apron and beaming all over her face.
-
-In a few clear words, Poirot set forth the object of his mission. The
-Bakers were immediately sympathetic.
-
-“Us don’t want to see Miss Violet done out of what’s hers,” declared
-the woman. “Cruel hard, ’twould be, for hospitals to get it all.”
-
-Poirot proceeded with his questions. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Baker
-remembered perfectly witnessing the will. Baker had previously been
-sent into the neighboring town to get two printed will-forms.
-
-“Two?” said Poirot sharply.
-
-“Yes sir, for safety like, I suppose, in case he should spoil one—and
-sure enough, so he did do. Us had signed one—”
-
-“What time of day was that?”
-
-Baker scratched his head, but his wife was quicker.
-
-“Why, to be sure, I’d just put the milk on for the cocoa at eleven.
-Don’t ee remember? It had all boiled over on the stove when us got
-back to kitchen.”
-
-“And afterward?”
-
-“’Twould be about an hour later. Us had to go in again. ‘I’ve made a
-mistake,’ says old Master, ‘—had to tear the whole thing up. I’ll
-trouble you to sign again.’ And us did. And afterward Master give us a
-tidy sum of money each. ‘I’ve left you nothing in my will,’ says he,
-‘but each year I live, you’ll have this to be a nest-egg when I’m
-gone;’ and sure enough, so he did.”
-
-Poirot reflected.
-
-“After you had signed the second time, what did Mr. Marsh do? Do you
-know?”
-
-“Went out to the village to pay tradesmen’s books.”
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-That did not seem very promising. Poirot tried another tack. He held
-out the key of the desk.
-
-“Is that your master’s writing?”
-
-I may have imagined it, but I fancied that a moment or two elapsed
-before Baker replied: “Yes sir, it is.”
-
-“He’s lying,” I thought. “But why?”
-
-“Has your master let the house? Have there been any strangers in it
-during the last three years?”
-
-“No sir.”
-
-“No visitors?”
-
-“Only Miss Violet.”
-
-“No strangers of any kind been inside this room?”
-
-“No sir.”
-
-“You forget the workmen, Jim,” his wife reminded him.
-
-“Workmen?” Poirot wheeled round on her. “What workmen?”
-
-The woman explained that about two years and a half ago workmen had
-been in the house to do certain repairs. She was quite vague as to
-what the repairs were. Her view seemed to be that the whole thing was
-a fad of her master’s, and quite unnecessary. Part of the time the
-workmen had been in the study, but what they had done there she could
-not say, as her master had not let either of them into the room while
-the work was in progress. Unfortunately they could not remember the
-name of the firm employed, beyond the fact that it was a Plymouth one.
-
-“We progress, Hastings,” said Poirot, rubbing his hands, as the Bakers
-left the room. “Clearly he made a second will, and then had workmen
-from Plymouth in to make a suitable hiding-place. Instead of wasting
-time, taking up the floor and tapping the walls, we will go to
-Plymouth.”
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-With a little trouble we were able to get the information we wanted.
-And after one or two essays, we found the firm employed by Mr. Marsh.
-
-Their employees had all been with them many years, and it was easy to
-find the two men who had worked under Mr. Marsh’s orders. They
-remembered the job perfectly. Among various other minor jobs, they had
-taken up one of the bricks of the old-fashioned fireplace, made a
-cavity beneath, and so cut the brick that it was impossible to see the
-joint. By pressing on the second brick from the end, the whole thing
-was raised. It had been quite a complicated piece of work, and the old
-gentleman had been very fussy about it. Our informant was a man called
-Coghan, a big, gaunt man with a grizzled mustache. He seemed an
-intelligent fellow.
-
-We returned to Crabtree Manor in high spirits, and locking the study
-door, proceeded to put our newly acquired knowledge into effect. It
-was impossible to see any sign on the bricks, but when we pressed in
-the manner indicated, a deep cavity was at once disclosed.
-
-Eagerly Poirot plunged in his hand. Suddenly his face fell from
-complacent elation to consternation. All he held was a charred
-fragment of stiff paper. But for it, the cavity was empty.
-
-“_Sacré_,” cried Poirot angrily. “Some one has been here before us!”
-
-We examined the scrap of paper anxiously. Clearly it was a fragment of
-what we sought. A portion of Baker’s signature remained, but no
-indication of what the terms of the will had been.
-
-Poirot sat back on his heels.
-
-“I understand it not,” he growled. “Who destroyed this? And what was
-their object?”
-
-“The Bakers?” I suggested.
-
-“_Pourquoi?_ Neither will makes any provision for them, and they are
-more likely to be kept on with Miss Marsh than if the place became the
-property of a hospital. How could it be to anyone’s advantage to
-destroy the will? The hospitals benefit, yes; but one cannot suspect
-institutions!”
-
-“Perhaps the old man changed his mind and destroyed it himself,” I
-suggested.
-
-Poirot rose to his feet, dusting his knees with his usual care.
-
-“That may be,” he admitted. “One of your more sensible observations,
-Hastings. Well, we can do no more here. We have done all that mortal
-man can do. We have successfully pitted our wits against the late
-Andrew Marsh, but unfortunately his niece is no better off for our
-success.”
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-By driving to the station at once, we were just able to catch a train
-to London, though not the principal express. Poirot was sad and
-dissatisfied. For my part, I was tired and dozed in a corner.
-Suddenly, as we were just moving out of Taunton, Poirot uttered a
-piercing squeal.
-
-“_Vite_, Hastings! Awake and jump. But jump, I say!”
-
-Before I knew where I was, we were standing on the platform,
-bareheaded and minus our valises, while the train disappeared into the
-night. I was furious, but Poirot paid no attention.
-
-“Imbecile that I have been!” he cried. “Triple imbecile! Not again
-will I vaunt my little gray cells!”
-
-“That’s a good job, at any rate,” I said grumpily. “But what is this
-all about?”
-
-As usual, when following out his own ideas, he paid absolutely no
-attention to me.
-
-“The tradesmen’s books, I have left them entirely out of account! Yes,
-but where? Where? Never mind, I cannot be mistaken. We must return at
-once.”
-
-Easier said than done. We managed to get a slow train to Exeter, and
-there Poirot hired a car. We arrived back at Crabtree Manor in the
-small hours of the morning. I pass over the bewilderment of the Bakers
-when we had at last aroused them. Paying no attention to anybody,
-Poirot strode at once to the study.
-
-“I have been, not a triple imbecile, but thirty-six times one, my
-friend,” he deigned to remark. “Now, behold!”
-
-Going straight to the desk, he drew out the key, and detached the
-envelope from it. I stared at him stupidly. How could he possibly hope
-to find a big will-form in that tiny envelope? With great care he cut
-open the envelope, laying it out flat. Then he lighted the fire and
-held the plain inside surface of the envelope to the flame. In a few
-minutes faint characters began to appear.
-
-“Look!” cried Poirot in triumph.
-
-I looked. There were just a few lines of faint writing stating briefly
-that he left everything to his niece Violet Marsh. It was dated March
-25, twelve-thirty p. m., and witnessed by Albert Pike, confectioner,
-and Jessie Pike, married woman.
-
-“But is it legal?” I gasped.
-
-“As far as I know, there is no law against writing your will in a
-blend of disappearing and sympathetic ink. The intention of the
-testator is clear, and the beneficiary is his only living relation.
-But the cleverness of him! He foresaw every step that a searcher would
-take, that I, miserable imbecile, took! He gets two will-forms, makes
-the servants sign twice, then sallies out with his will written on the
-inside of a dirty envelope, and a fountain pen containing his little
-ink-mixture. On some excuse he gets the confectioner and his wife to
-sign their names under his own signature; then he ties it to the key
-of his desk and chuckles to himself. If his niece sees through his
-little ruse, she will have justified her choice of life and elaborate
-education and be thoroughly welcome to his money.”
-
-“She didn’t see through it, did she?” I said slowly. “It seems rather
-unfair. The old man really won.”
-
-“But no, Hastings! It is _your_ wits that go astray. Miss Marsh proved
-the astuteness of her wits and the value of the higher education for
-women by at once putting the matter in _my_ hands. Always employ the
-expert! She has amply proved her right to the money.”
-
-I wonder—I very much wonder what old Andrew Marsh would have thought!
-
-
-[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the January, 1925 issue of
-The Blue Book Magazine.]
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 67173 ***
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-<!DOCTYPE html>
-<html lang="en">
-<head>
-  <meta charset="UTF-8">
-  <title>The Missing Will | Project Gutenberg</title>
-  <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover">
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-<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 67173 ***</div>
-<div class='ce'>
-<h1 style='margin-bottom:0em;'>The Missing Will </h1>
-<div style='font-size:0.9em;margin-bottom:0.5em;'>Hercule Poirot Solves an Extraordinary Case </div>
-<div style='font-size:1.1em;'>by Agatha Christie </div>
-</div>
-<div id='001' class='mt01 mb01 w001'>
-  <img src='images/illus-001.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%'>
-</div>
-<p>The problem presented to us by Miss Violet Marsh made a rather
-pleasant change from our usual routine work. Poirot had received a
-brisk and businesslike note from the lady asking for an appointment,
-and he had replied, asking her to call upon him at eleven o’clock the
-following day.</p>
-
-<p>She arrived punctually—a tall, handsome young woman, plainly but
-neatly dressed, with an assured and businesslike manner—clearly, a
-young woman who meant to get on in the world. I am not a great admirer
-of the so-called New Woman myself, and in spite of her good looks, I
-was not particularly prepossessed in her favor.</p>
-
-<p>“My business is of a somewhat unusual nature, M. Poirot,” she began,
-after she had accepted a chair. “I had better begin at the beginning
-and tell you the whole story.”</p>
-
-<p>“If you please, mademoiselle.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am an orphan. My father was one of two brothers, sons of a small
-yeoman farmer in Devonshire. The farm was a poor one, and the eldest
-brother, Andrew, emigrated to Australia, where he did very well
-indeed, and by means of successful speculation in land became a very
-rich man. The younger brother, Roger, my father, had no leanings
-toward the agricultural life. He managed to educate himself a little,
-and obtained a post as a clerk in a small firm. He married slightly
-above him; my mother was the daughter of a poor artist. My father died
-when I was six years old. When I was fourteen, my mother followed him
-to the grave. My only living relation then was my Uncle Andrew, who
-had recently returned from Australia and bought a small place in his
-native county, Crabtree Manor. He was exceedingly kind to his
-brother’s orphan child, took me to live with him, and treated me in
-every way as though I were his own daughter.</p>
-
-<p>“Crabtree Manor,” she pursued, “in spite of its name, is really only
-an old farmhouse. Farming was in my uncle’s blood, and he was
-intensely interested in various modern farming experiments. Although
-kindness itself to me, he had certain peculiar and deeply rooted ideas
-as to the upbringing of women. Himself a man of little or no
-education, though possessing remarkable shrewdness, he placed little
-value on what he called ‘book knowledge.’ He was especially opposed to
-the education of women. In his opinion, girls should learn practical
-housework and dairy work, be useful about the home, and have as little
-to do with book-learning as possible. He proposed to bring me up on
-these lines, to my bitter disappointment.</p>
-
-<p>“I rebelled frankly. I knew that I possessed a good brain, and had
-absolutely no talent for domestic duties. My uncle and I had many
-bitter arguments on the subject, for though much attached to each
-other, we were both self-willed. I was lucky enough to win a
-scholarship, and up to a certain point was successful in getting my
-own way. The crisis arose when I resolved to go to Girton. I had a
-little money of my own, left me by my mother, and I was quite
-determined to make the best use of the gifts God had given me. I had
-one long final argument with my uncle. He put the facts plainly before
-me. He had no other relations, and he had intended me to be his sole
-heiress. As I have told you, he was a very rich man. If I persisted in
-these ‘newfangled notions’ of mine, however, I need look for nothing
-from him. I remained polite, but firm. I should always be deeply
-attached to him, but I must lead my own life. We parted on that note.
-‘You fancy your brains, my girl,’ were his last words. ‘I’ve no
-book-learning, but for all that, I’ll pit mine against yours any day.
-We’ll see what we shall see.’</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>“That was nine years ago. I have stayed with him for a week-end
-occasionally, and our relations were perfectly amicable, though his
-views remained unaltered. He never referred to my having matriculated,
-nor to my B. Sc. For the last three years his health has been failing,
-and a month ago he died. I am now coming to the point of my visit. My
-uncle left a most extraordinary will. By its terms, Crabtree Manor and
-its contents are to be at my disposal for a year from his
-death—‘during which time my clever niece may prove her wits,’ the
-actual words run. At the end of that period, ‘my wits having proved
-better than hers,’ the house and all my uncle’s large fortune pass to
-various charitable institutions.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is a little hard on you, mademoiselle,” commented Poirot,
-“seeing that you were Mr. Marsh’s only blood relation.”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not look on it in that way. Uncle Andrew warned me fairly, and I
-chose my own path. Since I would not fall in with his wishes, he was
-at perfect liberty to leave his money to whom he pleased.”</p>
-
-<p>“Was the will drawn up by a lawyer?”</p>
-
-<p>“No; it was written on a printed will-form and witnessed by the man
-and his wife who lived in the house and looked after my uncle.”</p>
-
-<p>“There might be a possibility of upsetting such a will?”</p>
-
-<p>“I would not even attempt to do such a thing.”</p>
-
-<p>“You regard it, then, as a sporting challenge on the part of your
-uncle?”</p>
-
-<p>“That is exactly how I look upon it.”</p>
-
-<p>“It bears that interpretation, certainly,” said Poirot thoughtfully.
-“Somewhere in this rambling old manor house your uncle has concealed
-either a sum of money in notes, or possibly a second will, and has
-given you a year in which to exercise your ingenuity to find it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Exactly, M. Poirot, and I am paying you the compliment of assuming
-that your ingenuity will be greater than mine.”</p>
-
-<p>“Eh, eh! But that is very charming of you. My gray cells are at your
-disposal. You have made no search yourself?”</p>
-
-<p>“Only a cursory one, but I have too much respect for my uncle’s
-undoubted abilities to fancy that the task will be an easy one.”</p>
-
-<p>“Have you the will, or a copy of it with you?”</p>
-
-<p>Miss Marsh handed a document across the table. Poirot ran through it,
-nodding to himself.</p>
-
-<p>“Made three years ago. Dated March 25, and the time is given
-also—eleven a. m.—that is very suggestive. It narrows the field of
-search. Assuredly it is another will we have to seek for. A will made
-even half an hour later would upset this. <i>Eh bien</i>, mademoiselle, it
-is a problem charming and ingenious that you have presented to me
-here. I shall have all the pleasure in the world in solving it for
-you. Granted that your uncle was a man of ability, his gray cells
-cannot have been of the quality of Hercule Poirot’s!”</p>
-
-<p>(Really, Poirot’s vanity is blatant!)</p>
-
-<p>“Fortunately, I have nothing of moment on hand at the minute. Hastings
-and I will go down to Crabtree Manor tonight. The man and wife who
-attended on your uncle are still there, I presume?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, their name is Baker.”</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>The following morning saw us started on the hunt proper. We had
-arrived late the night before. Mr. and Mrs. Baker, having received a
-telegram from Miss Marsh, were expecting us. They were a pleasant
-couple, the man gnarled and pink-cheeked like a shriveled pippin, and
-his wife a woman of vast proportions and true Devonshire calm.</p>
-
-<p>Tired with our journey, including an eight-mile drive from the
-station, we had retired at once to bed after a supper of roast
-chicken, apple pie and Devonshire cream. We had now disposed of an
-excellent breakfast, and were sitting in a small paneled room which
-had been the late Mr. Marsh’s study and living-room. A roll-top desk
-stuffed with papers, all neatly docketed, stood against the wall, and
-a big leather armchair showed plainly that it had been its owner’s
-constant resting-place. A big chintz-covered settee ran along the
-opposite wall, and the deep low window-seats were covered with the
-same faded chintz of an old-fashioned pattern.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Eh bien, mon ami</i>,” said Poirot, lighting one of his tiny
-cigarettes, “we must map out our plan of campaign. Already I have made
-a rough survey of the house, but I am of opinion that any clue will be
-found in this room. We shall have to go through the documents in the
-desk with meticulous care. Naturally I do not expect to find the will
-among them, but it is likely that some apparently innocent paper may
-conceal the clue to its hiding-place. But first we must have a little
-information. Ring the bell, I pray of you.”</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>I did so. While we were waiting for it to be answered, Poirot walked
-up and down, looking about him approvingly.</p>
-
-<p>“A man of method, this Mr. Marsh. See how neatly the packets of papers
-are docketed; and the key to each drawer has its ivory label—so has
-the key of the china-cabinet on the wall. And see with what precision
-the china within is arranged! It rejoices the heart. Nothing here
-offends the eye—”</p>
-
-<p>He came to an abrupt pause, as his eye was caught by the key of the
-desk itself, to which a dirty envelope was affixed. Poirot frowned at
-it, and withdrew it from the lock. On it were scrawled the words “<i>Key
-of Roll-top Desk</i>” in a crabbed handwriting quite unlike the neat
-superscriptures on the other keys.</p>
-
-<p>“An alien note,” said Poirot, frowning. “I could swear that here we
-have no longer the personality of Mr. Marsh. But who else has been in
-the house? Only Miss Marsh; and she, if I mistake not, is also a young
-lady of method and order.”</p>
-
-<p>Baker came in answer to the bell.</p>
-
-<p>“Will you fetch Madame your wife and answer a few questions?”</p>
-
-<p>Baker departed, and in a few moments returned with Mrs. Baker, wiping
-her hands on her apron and beaming all over her face.</p>
-
-<p>In a few clear words, Poirot set forth the object of his mission. The
-Bakers were immediately sympathetic.</p>
-
-<p>“Us don’t want to see Miss Violet done out of what’s hers,” declared
-the woman. “Cruel hard, ’twould be, for hospitals to get it all.”</p>
-
-<p>Poirot proceeded with his questions. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Baker
-remembered perfectly witnessing the will. Baker had previously been
-sent into the neighboring town to get two printed will-forms.</p>
-
-<p>“Two?” said Poirot sharply.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes sir, for safety like, I suppose, in case he should spoil one—and
-sure enough, so he did do. Us had signed one—”</p>
-
-<p>“What time of day was that?”</p>
-
-<p>Baker scratched his head, but his wife was quicker.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, to be sure, I’d just put the milk on for the cocoa at eleven.
-Don’t ee remember? It had all boiled over on the stove when us got
-back to kitchen.”</p>
-
-<p>“And afterward?”</p>
-
-<p>“’Twould be about an hour later. Us had to go in again. ‘I’ve made a
-mistake,’ says old Master, ‘—had to tear the whole thing up. I’ll
-trouble you to sign again.’ And us did. And afterward Master give us a
-tidy sum of money each. ‘I’ve left you nothing in my will,’ says he,
-‘but each year I live, you’ll have this to be a nest-egg when I’m
-gone;’ and sure enough, so he did.”</p>
-
-<p>Poirot reflected.</p>
-
-<p>“After you had signed the second time, what did Mr. Marsh do? Do you
-know?”</p>
-
-<p>“Went out to the village to pay tradesmen’s books.”</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>That did not seem very promising. Poirot tried another tack. He held
-out the key of the desk.</p>
-
-<p>“Is that your master’s writing?”</p>
-
-<p>I may have imagined it, but I fancied that a moment or two elapsed
-before Baker replied: “Yes sir, it is.”</p>
-
-<p>“He’s lying,” I thought. “But why?”</p>
-
-<p>“Has your master let the house? Have there been any strangers in it
-during the last three years?”</p>
-
-<p>“No sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“No visitors?”</p>
-
-<p>“Only Miss Violet.”</p>
-
-<p>“No strangers of any kind been inside this room?”</p>
-
-<p>“No sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“You forget the workmen, Jim,” his wife reminded him.</p>
-
-<p>“Workmen?” Poirot wheeled round on her. “What workmen?”</p>
-
-<p>The woman explained that about two years and a half ago workmen had
-been in the house to do certain repairs. She was quite vague as to
-what the repairs were. Her view seemed to be that the whole thing was
-a fad of her master’s, and quite unnecessary. Part of the time the
-workmen had been in the study, but what they had done there she could
-not say, as her master had not let either of them into the room while
-the work was in progress. Unfortunately they could not remember the
-name of the firm employed, beyond the fact that it was a Plymouth one.</p>
-
-<p>“We progress, Hastings,” said Poirot, rubbing his hands, as the Bakers
-left the room. “Clearly he made a second will, and then had workmen
-from Plymouth in to make a suitable hiding-place. Instead of wasting
-time, taking up the floor and tapping the walls, we will go to
-Plymouth.”</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>With a little trouble we were able to get the information we wanted.
-And after one or two essays, we found the firm employed by Mr. Marsh.</p>
-
-<p>Their employees had all been with them many years, and it was easy to
-find the two men who had worked under Mr. Marsh’s orders. They
-remembered the job perfectly. Among various other minor jobs, they had
-taken up one of the bricks of the old-fashioned fireplace, made a
-cavity beneath, and so cut the brick that it was impossible to see the
-joint. By pressing on the second brick from the end, the whole thing
-was raised. It had been quite a complicated piece of work, and the old
-gentleman had been very fussy about it. Our informant was a man called
-Coghan, a big, gaunt man with a grizzled mustache. He seemed an
-intelligent fellow.</p>
-
-<p>We returned to Crabtree Manor in high spirits, and locking the study
-door, proceeded to put our newly acquired knowledge into effect. It
-was impossible to see any sign on the bricks, but when we pressed in
-the manner indicated, a deep cavity was at once disclosed.</p>
-
-<p>Eagerly Poirot plunged in his hand. Suddenly his face fell from
-complacent elation to consternation. All he held was a charred
-fragment of stiff paper. But for it, the cavity was empty.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Sacré</i>,” cried Poirot angrily. “Some one has been here before us!”</p>
-
-<p>We examined the scrap of paper anxiously. Clearly it was a fragment of
-what we sought. A portion of Baker’s signature remained, but no
-indication of what the terms of the will had been.</p>
-
-<p>Poirot sat back on his heels.</p>
-
-<p>“I understand it not,” he growled. “Who destroyed this? And what was
-their object?”</p>
-
-<p>“The Bakers?” I suggested.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Pourquoi?</i> Neither will makes any provision for them, and they are
-more likely to be kept on with Miss Marsh than if the place became the
-property of a hospital. How could it be to anyone’s advantage to
-destroy the will? The hospitals benefit, yes; but one cannot suspect
-institutions!”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps the old man changed his mind and destroyed it himself,” I
-suggested.</p>
-
-<p>Poirot rose to his feet, dusting his knees with his usual care.</p>
-
-<p>“That may be,” he admitted. “One of your more sensible observations,
-Hastings. Well, we can do no more here. We have done all that mortal
-man can do. We have successfully pitted our wits against the late
-Andrew Marsh, but unfortunately his niece is no better off for our
-success.”</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>By driving to the station at once, we were just able to catch a train
-to London, though not the principal express. Poirot was sad and
-dissatisfied. For my part, I was tired and dozed in a corner.
-Suddenly, as we were just moving out of Taunton, Poirot uttered a
-piercing squeal.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Vite</i>, Hastings! Awake and jump. But jump, I say!”</p>
-
-<p>Before I knew where I was, we were standing on the platform,
-bareheaded and minus our valises, while the train disappeared into the
-night. I was furious, but Poirot paid no attention.</p>
-
-<p>“Imbecile that I have been!” he cried. “Triple imbecile! Not again
-will I vaunt my little gray cells!”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s a good job, at any rate,” I said grumpily. “But what is this
-all about?”</p>
-
-<p>As usual, when following out his own ideas, he paid absolutely no
-attention to me.</p>
-
-<p>“The tradesmen’s books, I have left them entirely out of account! Yes,
-but where? Where? Never mind, I cannot be mistaken. We must return at
-once.”</p>
-
-<p>Easier said than done. We managed to get a slow train to Exeter, and
-there Poirot hired a car. We arrived back at Crabtree Manor in the
-small hours of the morning. I pass over the bewilderment of the Bakers
-when we had at last aroused them. Paying no attention to anybody,
-Poirot strode at once to the study.</p>
-
-<p>“I have been, not a triple imbecile, but thirty-six times one, my
-friend,” he deigned to remark. “Now, behold!”</p>
-
-<p>Going straight to the desk, he drew out the key, and detached the
-envelope from it. I stared at him stupidly. How could he possibly hope
-to find a big will-form in that tiny envelope? With great care he cut
-open the envelope, laying it out flat. Then he lighted the fire and
-held the plain inside surface of the envelope to the flame. In a few
-minutes faint characters began to appear.</p>
-
-<p>“Look!” cried Poirot in triumph.</p>
-
-<p>I looked. There were just a few lines of faint writing stating briefly
-that he left everything to his niece Violet Marsh. It was dated March
-25, twelve-thirty p. m., and witnessed by Albert Pike, confectioner,
-and Jessie Pike, married woman.</p>
-
-<p>“But is it legal?” I gasped.</p>
-
-<p>“As far as I know, there is no law against writing your will in a
-blend of disappearing and sympathetic ink. The intention of the
-testator is clear, and the beneficiary is his only living relation.
-But the cleverness of him! He foresaw every step that a searcher would
-take, that I, miserable imbecile, took! He gets two will-forms, makes
-the servants sign twice, then sallies out with his will written on the
-inside of a dirty envelope, and a fountain pen containing his little
-ink-mixture. On some excuse he gets the confectioner and his wife to
-sign their names under his own signature; then he ties it to the key
-of his desk and chuckles to himself. If his niece sees through his
-little ruse, she will have justified her choice of life and elaborate
-education and be thoroughly welcome to his money.”</p>
-
-<p>“She didn’t see through it, did she?” I said slowly. “It seems rather
-unfair. The old man really won.”</p>
-
-<p>“But no, Hastings! It is <i>your</i> wits that go astray. Miss Marsh proved
-the astuteness of her wits and the value of the higher education for
-women by at once putting the matter in <i>my</i> hands. Always employ the
-expert! She has amply proved her right to the money.”</p>
-
-<p>I wonder—I very much wonder what old Andrew Marsh would have thought!</p>
-
-<div class="tn">
-  <p style='text-indent:0'>Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in
-  the January, 1925 issue of <i>The Blue Book Magazine</i>.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 67173 ***</div>
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Missing Will, by Agatha Christie
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: The Missing Will
-
-Author: Agatha Christie
-
-Release Date: January 15, 2022 [eBook #67173]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MISSING WILL ***
-
-
-                           The Missing Will
-
-             Hercule Poirot Solves an Extraordinary Case
-                          by Agatha Christie
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The problem presented to us by Miss Violet Marsh made a rather
-pleasant change from our usual routine work. Poirot had received a
-brisk and businesslike note from the lady asking for an appointment,
-and he had replied, asking her to call upon him at eleven o’clock the
-following day.
-
-She arrived punctually—a tall, handsome young woman, plainly but
-neatly dressed, with an assured and businesslike manner—clearly, a
-young woman who meant to get on in the world. I am not a great admirer
-of the so-called New Woman myself, and in spite of her good looks, I
-was not particularly prepossessed in her favor.
-
-“My business is of a somewhat unusual nature, M. Poirot,” she began,
-after she had accepted a chair. “I had better begin at the beginning
-and tell you the whole story.”
-
-“If you please, mademoiselle.”
-
-“I am an orphan. My father was one of two brothers, sons of a small
-yeoman farmer in Devonshire. The farm was a poor one, and the eldest
-brother, Andrew, emigrated to Australia, where he did very well
-indeed, and by means of successful speculation in land became a very
-rich man. The younger brother, Roger, my father, had no leanings
-toward the agricultural life. He managed to educate himself a little,
-and obtained a post as a clerk in a small firm. He married slightly
-above him; my mother was the daughter of a poor artist. My father died
-when I was six years old. When I was fourteen, my mother followed him
-to the grave. My only living relation then was my Uncle Andrew, who
-had recently returned from Australia and bought a small place in his
-native county, Crabtree Manor. He was exceedingly kind to his
-brother’s orphan child, took me to live with him, and treated me in
-every way as though I were his own daughter.
-
-“Crabtree Manor,” she pursued, “in spite of its name, is really only
-an old farmhouse. Farming was in my uncle’s blood, and he was
-intensely interested in various modern farming experiments. Although
-kindness itself to me, he had certain peculiar and deeply rooted ideas
-as to the upbringing of women. Himself a man of little or no
-education, though possessing remarkable shrewdness, he placed little
-value on what he called ‘book knowledge.’ He was especially opposed to
-the education of women. In his opinion, girls should learn practical
-housework and dairy work, be useful about the home, and have as little
-to do with book-learning as possible. He proposed to bring me up on
-these lines, to my bitter disappointment.
-
-“I rebelled frankly. I knew that I possessed a good brain, and had
-absolutely no talent for domestic duties. My uncle and I had many
-bitter arguments on the subject, for though much attached to each
-other, we were both self-willed. I was lucky enough to win a
-scholarship, and up to a certain point was successful in getting my
-own way. The crisis arose when I resolved to go to Girton. I had a
-little money of my own, left me by my mother, and I was quite
-determined to make the best use of the gifts God had given me. I had
-one long final argument with my uncle. He put the facts plainly before
-me. He had no other relations, and he had intended me to be his sole
-heiress. As I have told you, he was a very rich man. If I persisted in
-these ‘newfangled notions’ of mine, however, I need look for nothing
-from him. I remained polite, but firm. I should always be deeply
-attached to him, but I must lead my own life. We parted on that note.
-‘You fancy your brains, my girl,’ were his last words. ‘I’ve no
-book-learning, but for all that, I’ll pit mine against yours any day.
-We’ll see what we shall see.’
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-“That was nine years ago. I have stayed with him for a week-end
-occasionally, and our relations were perfectly amicable, though his
-views remained unaltered. He never referred to my having matriculated,
-nor to my B. Sc. For the last three years his health has been failing,
-and a month ago he died. I am now coming to the point of my visit. My
-uncle left a most extraordinary will. By its terms, Crabtree Manor and
-its contents are to be at my disposal for a year from his
-death—‘during which time my clever niece may prove her wits,’ the
-actual words run. At the end of that period, ‘my wits having proved
-better than hers,’ the house and all my uncle’s large fortune pass to
-various charitable institutions.”
-
-“That is a little hard on you, mademoiselle,” commented Poirot,
-“seeing that you were Mr. Marsh’s only blood relation.”
-
-“I do not look on it in that way. Uncle Andrew warned me fairly, and I
-chose my own path. Since I would not fall in with his wishes, he was
-at perfect liberty to leave his money to whom he pleased.”
-
-“Was the will drawn up by a lawyer?”
-
-“No; it was written on a printed will-form and witnessed by the man
-and his wife who lived in the house and looked after my uncle.”
-
-“There might be a possibility of upsetting such a will?”
-
-“I would not even attempt to do such a thing.”
-
-“You regard it, then, as a sporting challenge on the part of your
-uncle?”
-
-“That is exactly how I look upon it.”
-
-“It bears that interpretation, certainly,” said Poirot thoughtfully.
-“Somewhere in this rambling old manor house your uncle has concealed
-either a sum of money in notes, or possibly a second will, and has
-given you a year in which to exercise your ingenuity to find it.”
-
-“Exactly, M. Poirot, and I am paying you the compliment of assuming
-that your ingenuity will be greater than mine.”
-
-“Eh, eh! But that is very charming of you. My gray cells are at your
-disposal. You have made no search yourself?”
-
-“Only a cursory one, but I have too much respect for my uncle’s
-undoubted abilities to fancy that the task will be an easy one.”
-
-“Have you the will, or a copy of it with you?”
-
-Miss Marsh handed a document across the table. Poirot ran through it,
-nodding to himself.
-
-“Made three years ago. Dated March 25, and the time is given
-also—eleven a. m.—that is very suggestive. It narrows the field of
-search. Assuredly it is another will we have to seek for. A will made
-even half an hour later would upset this. _Eh bien_, mademoiselle, it
-is a problem charming and ingenious that you have presented to me
-here. I shall have all the pleasure in the world in solving it for
-you. Granted that your uncle was a man of ability, his gray cells
-cannot have been of the quality of Hercule Poirot’s!”
-
-(Really, Poirot’s vanity is blatant!)
-
-“Fortunately, I have nothing of moment on hand at the minute. Hastings
-and I will go down to Crabtree Manor tonight. The man and wife who
-attended on your uncle are still there, I presume?”
-
-“Yes, their name is Baker.”
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-The following morning saw us started on the hunt proper. We had
-arrived late the night before. Mr. and Mrs. Baker, having received a
-telegram from Miss Marsh, were expecting us. They were a pleasant
-couple, the man gnarled and pink-cheeked like a shriveled pippin, and
-his wife a woman of vast proportions and true Devonshire calm.
-
-Tired with our journey, including an eight-mile drive from the
-station, we had retired at once to bed after a supper of roast
-chicken, apple pie and Devonshire cream. We had now disposed of an
-excellent breakfast, and were sitting in a small paneled room which
-had been the late Mr. Marsh’s study and living-room. A roll-top desk
-stuffed with papers, all neatly docketed, stood against the wall, and
-a big leather armchair showed plainly that it had been its owner’s
-constant resting-place. A big chintz-covered settee ran along the
-opposite wall, and the deep low window-seats were covered with the
-same faded chintz of an old-fashioned pattern.
-
-“_Eh bien, mon ami_,” said Poirot, lighting one of his tiny
-cigarettes, “we must map out our plan of campaign. Already I have made
-a rough survey of the house, but I am of opinion that any due will be
-found in this room. We shall have to go through the documents in the
-desk with meticulous care. Naturally I do not expect to find the will
-among them, but it is likely that some apparently innocent paper may
-conceal the clue to its hiding-place. But first we must have a little
-information. Ring the bell, I pray of you.”
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-I did so. While we were waiting for it to be answered, Poirot walked
-up and down, looking about him approvingly.
-
-“A man of method, this Mr. Marsh. See how neatly the packets of papers
-are docketed; and the key to each drawer has its ivory label—so has
-the key of the china-cabinet on the wall. And see with what precision
-the china within is arranged! It rejoices the heart. Nothing here
-offends the eye—”
-
-He came to an abrupt pause, as his eye was caught by the key of the
-desk itself, to which a dirty envelope was affixed. Poirot frowned at
-it, and withdrew it from the lock. On it were scrawled the words “_Key
-of Roll-top Desk_” in a crabbed handwriting quite unlike the neat
-superscriptures on the other keys.
-
-“An alien note,” said Poirot, frowning. “I could swear that here we
-have no longer the personality of Mr. Marsh. But who else has been in
-the house? Only Miss Marsh; and she, if I mistake not, is also a young
-lady of method and order.”
-
-Baker came in answer to the bell.
-
-“Will you fetch Madame your wife and answer a few questions?”
-
-Baker departed, and in a few moments returned with Mrs. Baker, wiping
-her hands on her apron and beaming all over her face.
-
-In a few clear words, Poirot set forth the object of his mission. The
-Bakers were immediately sympathetic.
-
-“Us don’t want to see Miss Violet done out of what’s hers,” declared
-the woman. “Cruel hard, ’twould be, for hospitals to get it all.”
-
-Poirot proceeded with his questions. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Baker
-remembered perfectly witnessing the will. Baker had previously been
-sent into the neighboring town to get two printed will-forms.
-
-“Two?” said Poirot sharply.
-
-“Yes sir, for safety like, I suppose, in case he should spoil one—and
-sure enough, so he did do. Us had signed one—”
-
-“What time of day was that?”
-
-Baker scratched his head, but his wife was quicker.
-
-“Why, to be sure, I’d just put the milk on for the cocoa at eleven.
-Don’t ee remember? It had all boiled over on the stove when us got
-back to kitchen.”
-
-“And afterward?”
-
-“’Twould be about an hour later. Us had to go in again. ‘I’ve made a
-mistake,’ says old Master, ‘—had to tear the whole thing up. I’ll
-trouble you to sign again.’ And us did. And afterward Master give us a
-tidy sum of money each. ‘I’ve left you nothing in my will,’ says he,
-‘but each year I live, you’ll have this to be a nest-egg when I’m
-gone;’ and sure enough, so he did.”
-
-Poirot reflected.
-
-“After you had signed the second time, what did Mr. Marsh do? Do you
-know?”
-
-“Went out to the village to pay tradesmen’s books.”
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-That did not seem very promising. Poirot tried another tack. He held
-out the key of the desk.
-
-“Is that your master’s writing?”
-
-I may have imagined it, but I fancied that a moment or two elapsed
-before Baker replied: “Yes sir, it is.”
-
-“He’s lying,” I thought. “But why?”
-
-“Has your master let the house? Have there been any strangers in it
-during the last three years?”
-
-“No sir.”
-
-“No visitors?”
-
-“Only Miss Violet.”
-
-“No strangers of any kind been inside this room?”
-
-“No sir.”
-
-“You forget the workmen, Jim,” his wife reminded him.
-
-“Workmen?” Poirot wheeled round on her. “What workmen?”
-
-The woman explained that about two years and a half ago workmen had
-been in the house to do certain repairs. She was quite vague as to
-what the repairs were. Her view seemed to be that the whole thing was
-a fad of her master’s, and quite unnecessary. Part of the time the
-workmen had been in the study, but what they had done there she could
-not say, as her master had not let either of them into the room while
-the work was in progress. Unfortunately they could not remember the
-name of the firm employed, beyond the fact that it was a Plymouth one.
-
-“We progress, Hastings,” said Poirot, rubbing his hands, as the Bakers
-left the room. “Clearly he made a second will, and then had workmen
-from Plymouth in to make a suitable hiding-place. Instead of wasting
-time, taking up the floor and tapping the walls, we will go to
-Plymouth.”
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-With a little trouble we were able to get the information we wanted.
-And after one or two essays, we found the firm employed by Mr. Marsh.
-
-Their employees had all been with them many years, and it was easy to
-find the two men who had worked under Mr. Marsh’s orders. They
-remembered the job perfectly. Among various other minor jobs, they had
-taken up one of the bricks of the old-fashioned fireplace, made a
-cavity beneath, and so cut the brick that it was impossible to see the
-joint. By pressing on the second brick from the end, the whole thing
-was raised. It had been quite a complicated piece of work, and the old
-gentleman had been very fussy about it. Our informant was a man called
-Coghan, a big, gaunt man with a grizzled mustache. He seemed an
-intelligent fellow.
-
-We returned to Crabtree Manor in high spirits, and locking the study
-door, proceeded to put our newly acquired knowledge into effect. It
-was impossible to see any sign on the bricks, but when we pressed in
-the manner indicated, a deep cavity was at once disclosed.
-
-Eagerly Poirot plunged in his hand. Suddenly his face fell from
-complacent elation to consternation. All he held was a charred
-fragment of stiff paper. But for it, the cavity was empty.
-
-“_Sacré_,” cried Poirot angrily. “Some one has been here before us!”
-
-We examined the scrap of paper anxiously. Clearly it was a fragment of
-what we sought. A portion of Baker’s signature remained, but no
-indication of what the terms of the will had been.
-
-Poirot sat back on his heels.
-
-“I understand it not,” he growled. “Who destroyed this? And what was
-their object?”
-
-“The Bakers?” I suggested.
-
-“_Pourquoi?_ Neither will makes any provision for them, and they are
-more likely to be kept on with Miss Marsh than if the place became the
-property of a hospital. How could it be to anyone’s advantage to
-destroy the will? The hospitals benefit, yes; but one cannot suspect
-institutions!”
-
-“Perhaps the old man changed his mind and destroyed it himself,” I
-suggested.
-
-Poirot rose to his feet, dusting his knees with his usual care.
-
-“That may be,” he admitted. “One of your more sensible observations,
-Hastings. Well, we can do no more here. We have done all that mortal
-man can do. We have successfully pitted our wits against the late
-Andrew Marsh, but unfortunately his niece is no better off for our
-success.”
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-By driving to the station at once, we were just able to catch a train
-to London, though not the principal express. Poirot was sad and
-dissatisfied. For my part, I was tired and dozed in a corner.
-Suddenly, as we were just moving out of Taunton, Poirot uttered a
-piercing squeal.
-
-“_Vite_, Hastings! Awake and jump. But jump, I say!”
-
-Before I knew where I was, we were standing on the platform,
-bareheaded and minus our valises, while the train disappeared into the
-night. I was furious, but Poirot paid no attention.
-
-“Imbecile that I have been!” he cried. “Triple imbecile! Not again
-will I vaunt my little gray cells!”
-
-“That’s a good job, at any rate,” I said grumpily. “But what is this
-all about?”
-
-As usual, when following out his own ideas, he paid absolutely no
-attention to me.
-
-“The tradesmen’s books, I have left them entirely out of account! Yes,
-but where? Where? Never mind, I cannot be mistaken. We must return at
-once.”
-
-Easier said than done. We managed to get a slow train to Exeter, and
-there Poirot hired a car. We arrived back at Crabtree Manor in the
-small hours of the morning. I pass over the bewilderment of the Bakers
-when we had at last aroused them. Paying no attention to anybody,
-Poirot strode at once to the study.
-
-“I have been, not a triple imbecile, but thirty-six times one, my
-friend,” he deigned to remark. “Now, behold!”
-
-Going straight to the desk, he drew out the key, and detached the
-envelope from it. I stared at him stupidly. How could he possibly hope
-to find a big will-form in that tiny envelope? With great care he cut
-open the envelope, laying it out flat. Then he lighted the fire and
-held the plain inside surface of the envelope to the flame. In a few
-minutes faint characters began to appear.
-
-“Look!” cried Poirot in triumph.
-
-I looked. There were just a few lines of faint writing stating briefly
-that he left everything to his niece Violet Marsh. It was dated March
-25, twelve-thirty p. m., and witnessed by Albert Pike, confectioner,
-and Jessie Pike, married woman.
-
-“But is it legal?” I gasped.
-
-“As far as I know, there is no law against writing your will in a
-blend of disappearing and sympathetic ink. The intention of the
-testator is clear, and the beneficiary is his only living relation.
-But the cleverness of him! He foresaw every step that a searcher would
-take, that I, miserable imbecile, took! He gets two will-forms, makes
-the servants sign twice, then sallies out with his will written on the
-inside of a dirty envelope, and a fountain pen containing his little
-ink-mixture. On some excuse he gets the confectioner and his wife to
-sign their names under his own signature; then he ties it to the key
-of his desk and chuckles to himself. If his niece sees through his
-little ruse, she will have justified her choice of life and elaborate
-education and be thoroughly welcome to his money.”
-
-“She didn’t see through it, did she?” I said slowly. “It seems rather
-unfair. The old man really won.”
-
-“But no, Hastings! It is _your_ wits that go astray. Miss Marsh proved
-the astuteness of her wits and the value of the higher education for
-women by at once putting the matter in _my_ hands. Always employ the
-expert! She has amply proved her right to the money.”
-
-I wonder—I very much wonder what old Andrew Marsh would have thought!
-
-
-[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the January, 1925 issue of
-The Blue Book Magazine.]
-
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-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Missing Will, by Agatha Christie</p>
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-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Missing Will</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Agatha Christie</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 15, 2022 [eBook #67173]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
-  <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MISSING WILL ***</div>
-<div class='ce'>
-<h1 style='margin-bottom:0em;'>The Missing Will </h1>
-<div style='font-size:0.9em;margin-bottom:0.5em;'>Hercule Poirot Solves an Extraordinary Case </div>
-<div style='font-size:1.1em;'>by Agatha Christie </div>
-</div>
-<div id='001' class='mt01 mb01 w001'>
-  <img src='images/illus-001.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-</div>
-<p>The problem presented to us by Miss Violet Marsh made a rather
-pleasant change from our usual routine work. Poirot had received a
-brisk and businesslike note from the lady asking for an appointment,
-and he had replied, asking her to call upon him at eleven o’clock the
-following day.</p>
-
-<p>She arrived punctually—a tall, handsome young woman, plainly but
-neatly dressed, with an assured and businesslike manner—clearly, a
-young woman who meant to get on in the world. I am not a great admirer
-of the so-called New Woman myself, and in spite of her good looks, I
-was not particularly prepossessed in her favor.</p>
-
-<p>“My business is of a somewhat unusual nature, M. Poirot,” she began,
-after she had accepted a chair. “I had better begin at the beginning
-and tell you the whole story.”</p>
-
-<p>“If you please, mademoiselle.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am an orphan. My father was one of two brothers, sons of a small
-yeoman farmer in Devonshire. The farm was a poor one, and the eldest
-brother, Andrew, emigrated to Australia, where he did very well
-indeed, and by means of successful speculation in land became a very
-rich man. The younger brother, Roger, my father, had no leanings
-toward the agricultural life. He managed to educate himself a little,
-and obtained a post as a clerk in a small firm. He married slightly
-above him; my mother was the daughter of a poor artist. My father died
-when I was six years old. When I was fourteen, my mother followed him
-to the grave. My only living relation then was my Uncle Andrew, who
-had recently returned from Australia and bought a small place in his
-native county, Crabtree Manor. He was exceedingly kind to his
-brother’s orphan child, took me to live with him, and treated me in
-every way as though I were his own daughter.</p>
-
-<p>“Crabtree Manor,” she pursued, “in spite of its name, is really only
-an old farmhouse. Farming was in my uncle’s blood, and he was
-intensely interested in various modern farming experiments. Although
-kindness itself to me, he had certain peculiar and deeply rooted ideas
-as to the upbringing of women. Himself a man of little or no
-education, though possessing remarkable shrewdness, he placed little
-value on what he called ‘book knowledge.’ He was especially opposed to
-the education of women. In his opinion, girls should learn practical
-housework and dairy work, be useful about the home, and have as little
-to do with book-learning as possible. He proposed to bring me up on
-these lines, to my bitter disappointment.</p>
-
-<p>“I rebelled frankly. I knew that I possessed a good brain, and had
-absolutely no talent for domestic duties. My uncle and I had many
-bitter arguments on the subject, for though much attached to each
-other, we were both self-willed. I was lucky enough to win a
-scholarship, and up to a certain point was successful in getting my
-own way. The crisis arose when I resolved to go to Girton. I had a
-little money of my own, left me by my mother, and I was quite
-determined to make the best use of the gifts God had given me. I had
-one long final argument with my uncle. He put the facts plainly before
-me. He had no other relations, and he had intended me to be his sole
-heiress. As I have told you, he was a very rich man. If I persisted in
-these ‘newfangled notions’ of mine, however, I need look for nothing
-from him. I remained polite, but firm. I should always be deeply
-attached to him, but I must lead my own life. We parted on that note.
-‘You fancy your brains, my girl,’ were his last words. ‘I’ve no
-book-learning, but for all that, I’ll pit mine against yours any day.
-We’ll see what we shall see.’</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>“That was nine years ago. I have stayed with him for a week-end
-occasionally, and our relations were perfectly amicable, though his
-views remained unaltered. He never referred to my having matriculated,
-nor to my B. Sc. For the last three years his health has been failing,
-and a month ago he died. I am now coming to the point of my visit. My
-uncle left a most extraordinary will. By its terms, Crabtree Manor and
-its contents are to be at my disposal for a year from his
-death—‘during which time my clever niece may prove her wits,’ the
-actual words run. At the end of that period, ‘my wits having proved
-better than hers,’ the house and all my uncle’s large fortune pass to
-various charitable institutions.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is a little hard on you, mademoiselle,” commented Poirot,
-“seeing that you were Mr. Marsh’s only blood relation.”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not look on it in that way. Uncle Andrew warned me fairly, and I
-chose my own path. Since I would not fall in with his wishes, he was
-at perfect liberty to leave his money to whom he pleased.”</p>
-
-<p>“Was the will drawn up by a lawyer?”</p>
-
-<p>“No; it was written on a printed will-form and witnessed by the man
-and his wife who lived in the house and looked after my uncle.”</p>
-
-<p>“There might be a possibility of upsetting such a will?”</p>
-
-<p>“I would not even attempt to do such a thing.”</p>
-
-<p>“You regard it, then, as a sporting challenge on the part of your
-uncle?”</p>
-
-<p>“That is exactly how I look upon it.”</p>
-
-<p>“It bears that interpretation, certainly,” said Poirot thoughtfully.
-“Somewhere in this rambling old manor house your uncle has concealed
-either a sum of money in notes, or possibly a second will, and has
-given you a year in which to exercise your ingenuity to find it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Exactly, M. Poirot, and I am paying you the compliment of assuming
-that your ingenuity will be greater than mine.”</p>
-
-<p>“Eh, eh! But that is very charming of you. My gray cells are at your
-disposal. You have made no search yourself?”</p>
-
-<p>“Only a cursory one, but I have too much respect for my uncle’s
-undoubted abilities to fancy that the task will be an easy one.”</p>
-
-<p>“Have you the will, or a copy of it with you?”</p>
-
-<p>Miss Marsh handed a document across the table. Poirot ran through it,
-nodding to himself.</p>
-
-<p>“Made three years ago. Dated March 25, and the time is given
-also—eleven a. m.—that is very suggestive. It narrows the field of
-search. Assuredly it is another will we have to seek for. A will made
-even half an hour later would upset this. <i>Eh bien</i>, mademoiselle, it
-is a problem charming and ingenious that you have presented to me
-here. I shall have all the pleasure in the world in solving it for
-you. Granted that your uncle was a man of ability, his gray cells
-cannot have been of the quality of Hercule Poirot’s!”</p>
-
-<p>(Really, Poirot’s vanity is blatant!)</p>
-
-<p>“Fortunately, I have nothing of moment on hand at the minute. Hastings
-and I will go down to Crabtree Manor tonight. The man and wife who
-attended on your uncle are still there, I presume?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, their name is Baker.”</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>The following morning saw us started on the hunt proper. We had
-arrived late the night before. Mr. and Mrs. Baker, having received a
-telegram from Miss Marsh, were expecting us. They were a pleasant
-couple, the man gnarled and pink-cheeked like a shriveled pippin, and
-his wife a woman of vast proportions and true Devonshire calm.</p>
-
-<p>Tired with our journey, including an eight-mile drive from the
-station, we had retired at once to bed after a supper of roast
-chicken, apple pie and Devonshire cream. We had now disposed of an
-excellent breakfast, and were sitting in a small paneled room which
-had been the late Mr. Marsh’s study and living-room. A roll-top desk
-stuffed with papers, all neatly docketed, stood against the wall, and
-a big leather armchair showed plainly that it had been its owner’s
-constant resting-place. A big chintz-covered settee ran along the
-opposite wall, and the deep low window-seats were covered with the
-same faded chintz of an old-fashioned pattern.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Eh bien, mon ami</i>,” said Poirot, lighting one of his tiny
-cigarettes, “we must map out our plan of campaign. Already I have made
-a rough survey of the house, but I am of opinion that any due will be
-found in this room. We shall have to go through the documents in the
-desk with meticulous care. Naturally I do not expect to find the will
-among them, but it is likely that some apparently innocent paper may
-conceal the clue to its hiding-place. But first we must have a little
-information. Ring the bell, I pray of you.”</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>I did so. While we were waiting for it to be answered, Poirot walked
-up and down, looking about him approvingly.</p>
-
-<p>“A man of method, this Mr. Marsh. See how neatly the packets of papers
-are docketed; and the key to each drawer has its ivory label—so has
-the key of the china-cabinet on the wall. And see with what precision
-the china within is arranged! It rejoices the heart. Nothing here
-offends the eye—”</p>
-
-<p>He came to an abrupt pause, as his eye was caught by the key of the
-desk itself, to which a dirty envelope was affixed. Poirot frowned at
-it, and withdrew it from the lock. On it were scrawled the words “<i>Key
-of Roll-top Desk</i>” in a crabbed handwriting quite unlike the neat
-superscriptures on the other keys.</p>
-
-<p>“An alien note,” said Poirot, frowning. “I could swear that here we
-have no longer the personality of Mr. Marsh. But who else has been in
-the house? Only Miss Marsh; and she, if I mistake not, is also a young
-lady of method and order.”</p>
-
-<p>Baker came in answer to the bell.</p>
-
-<p>“Will you fetch Madame your wife and answer a few questions?”</p>
-
-<p>Baker departed, and in a few moments returned with Mrs. Baker, wiping
-her hands on her apron and beaming all over her face.</p>
-
-<p>In a few clear words, Poirot set forth the object of his mission. The
-Bakers were immediately sympathetic.</p>
-
-<p>“Us don’t want to see Miss Violet done out of what’s hers,” declared
-the woman. “Cruel hard, ’twould be, for hospitals to get it all.”</p>
-
-<p>Poirot proceeded with his questions. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Baker
-remembered perfectly witnessing the will. Baker had previously been
-sent into the neighboring town to get two printed will-forms.</p>
-
-<p>“Two?” said Poirot sharply.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes sir, for safety like, I suppose, in case he should spoil one—and
-sure enough, so he did do. Us had signed one—”</p>
-
-<p>“What time of day was that?”</p>
-
-<p>Baker scratched his head, but his wife was quicker.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, to be sure, I’d just put the milk on for the cocoa at eleven.
-Don’t ee remember? It had all boiled over on the stove when us got
-back to kitchen.”</p>
-
-<p>“And afterward?”</p>
-
-<p>“’Twould be about an hour later. Us had to go in again. ‘I’ve made a
-mistake,’ says old Master, ‘—had to tear the whole thing up. I’ll
-trouble you to sign again.’ And us did. And afterward Master give us a
-tidy sum of money each. ‘I’ve left you nothing in my will,’ says he,
-‘but each year I live, you’ll have this to be a nest-egg when I’m
-gone;’ and sure enough, so he did.”</p>
-
-<p>Poirot reflected.</p>
-
-<p>“After you had signed the second time, what did Mr. Marsh do? Do you
-know?”</p>
-
-<p>“Went out to the village to pay tradesmen’s books.”</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>That did not seem very promising. Poirot tried another tack. He held
-out the key of the desk.</p>
-
-<p>“Is that your master’s writing?”</p>
-
-<p>I may have imagined it, but I fancied that a moment or two elapsed
-before Baker replied: “Yes sir, it is.”</p>
-
-<p>“He’s lying,” I thought. “But why?”</p>
-
-<p>“Has your master let the house? Have there been any strangers in it
-during the last three years?”</p>
-
-<p>“No sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“No visitors?”</p>
-
-<p>“Only Miss Violet.”</p>
-
-<p>“No strangers of any kind been inside this room?”</p>
-
-<p>“No sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“You forget the workmen, Jim,” his wife reminded him.</p>
-
-<p>“Workmen?” Poirot wheeled round on her. “What workmen?”</p>
-
-<p>The woman explained that about two years and a half ago workmen had
-been in the house to do certain repairs. She was quite vague as to
-what the repairs were. Her view seemed to be that the whole thing was
-a fad of her master’s, and quite unnecessary. Part of the time the
-workmen had been in the study, but what they had done there she could
-not say, as her master had not let either of them into the room while
-the work was in progress. Unfortunately they could not remember the
-name of the firm employed, beyond the fact that it was a Plymouth one.</p>
-
-<p>“We progress, Hastings,” said Poirot, rubbing his hands, as the Bakers
-left the room. “Clearly he made a second will, and then had workmen
-from Plymouth in to make a suitable hiding-place. Instead of wasting
-time, taking up the floor and tapping the walls, we will go to
-Plymouth.”</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>With a little trouble we were able to get the information we wanted.
-And after one or two essays, we found the firm employed by Mr. Marsh.</p>
-
-<p>Their employees had all been with them many years, and it was easy to
-find the two men who had worked under Mr. Marsh’s orders. They
-remembered the job perfectly. Among various other minor jobs, they had
-taken up one of the bricks of the old-fashioned fireplace, made a
-cavity beneath, and so cut the brick that it was impossible to see the
-joint. By pressing on the second brick from the end, the whole thing
-was raised. It had been quite a complicated piece of work, and the old
-gentleman had been very fussy about it. Our informant was a man called
-Coghan, a big, gaunt man with a grizzled mustache. He seemed an
-intelligent fellow.</p>
-
-<p>We returned to Crabtree Manor in high spirits, and locking the study
-door, proceeded to put our newly acquired knowledge into effect. It
-was impossible to see any sign on the bricks, but when we pressed in
-the manner indicated, a deep cavity was at once disclosed.</p>
-
-<p>Eagerly Poirot plunged in his hand. Suddenly his face fell from
-complacent elation to consternation. All he held was a charred
-fragment of stiff paper. But for it, the cavity was empty.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Sacré</i>,” cried Poirot angrily. “Some one has been here before us!”</p>
-
-<p>We examined the scrap of paper anxiously. Clearly it was a fragment of
-what we sought. A portion of Baker’s signature remained, but no
-indication of what the terms of the will had been.</p>
-
-<p>Poirot sat back on his heels.</p>
-
-<p>“I understand it not,” he growled. “Who destroyed this? And what was
-their object?”</p>
-
-<p>“The Bakers?” I suggested.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Pourquoi?</i> Neither will makes any provision for them, and they are
-more likely to be kept on with Miss Marsh than if the place became the
-property of a hospital. How could it be to anyone’s advantage to
-destroy the will? The hospitals benefit, yes; but one cannot suspect
-institutions!”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps the old man changed his mind and destroyed it himself,” I
-suggested.</p>
-
-<p>Poirot rose to his feet, dusting his knees with his usual care.</p>
-
-<p>“That may be,” he admitted. “One of your more sensible observations,
-Hastings. Well, we can do no more here. We have done all that mortal
-man can do. We have successfully pitted our wits against the late
-Andrew Marsh, but unfortunately his niece is no better off for our
-success.”</p>
-
-<div style='height:1em;'></div>
-<p>By driving to the station at once, we were just able to catch a train
-to London, though not the principal express. Poirot was sad and
-dissatisfied. For my part, I was tired and dozed in a corner.
-Suddenly, as we were just moving out of Taunton, Poirot uttered a
-piercing squeal.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Vite</i>, Hastings! Awake and jump. But jump, I say!”</p>
-
-<p>Before I knew where I was, we were standing on the platform,
-bareheaded and minus our valises, while the train disappeared into the
-night. I was furious, but Poirot paid no attention.</p>
-
-<p>“Imbecile that I have been!” he cried. “Triple imbecile! Not again
-will I vaunt my little gray cells!”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s a good job, at any rate,” I said grumpily. “But what is this
-all about?”</p>
-
-<p>As usual, when following out his own ideas, he paid absolutely no
-attention to me.</p>
-
-<p>“The tradesmen’s books, I have left them entirely out of account! Yes,
-but where? Where? Never mind, I cannot be mistaken. We must return at
-once.”</p>
-
-<p>Easier said than done. We managed to get a slow train to Exeter, and
-there Poirot hired a car. We arrived back at Crabtree Manor in the
-small hours of the morning. I pass over the bewilderment of the Bakers
-when we had at last aroused them. Paying no attention to anybody,
-Poirot strode at once to the study.</p>
-
-<p>“I have been, not a triple imbecile, but thirty-six times one, my
-friend,” he deigned to remark. “Now, behold!”</p>
-
-<p>Going straight to the desk, he drew out the key, and detached the
-envelope from it. I stared at him stupidly. How could he possibly hope
-to find a big will-form in that tiny envelope? With great care he cut
-open the envelope, laying it out flat. Then he lighted the fire and
-held the plain inside surface of the envelope to the flame. In a few
-minutes faint characters began to appear.</p>
-
-<p>“Look!” cried Poirot in triumph.</p>
-
-<p>I looked. There were just a few lines of faint writing stating briefly
-that he left everything to his niece Violet Marsh. It was dated March
-25, twelve-thirty p. m., and witnessed by Albert Pike, confectioner,
-and Jessie Pike, married woman.</p>
-
-<p>“But is it legal?” I gasped.</p>
-
-<p>“As far as I know, there is no law against writing your will in a
-blend of disappearing and sympathetic ink. The intention of the
-testator is clear, and the beneficiary is his only living relation.
-But the cleverness of him! He foresaw every step that a searcher would
-take, that I, miserable imbecile, took! He gets two will-forms, makes
-the servants sign twice, then sallies out with his will written on the
-inside of a dirty envelope, and a fountain pen containing his little
-ink-mixture. On some excuse he gets the confectioner and his wife to
-sign their names under his own signature; then he ties it to the key
-of his desk and chuckles to himself. If his niece sees through his
-little ruse, she will have justified her choice of life and elaborate
-education and be thoroughly welcome to his money.”</p>
-
-<p>“She didn’t see through it, did she?” I said slowly. “It seems rather
-unfair. The old man really won.”</p>
-
-<p>“But no, Hastings! It is <i>your</i> wits that go astray. Miss Marsh proved
-the astuteness of her wits and the value of the higher education for
-women by at once putting the matter in <i>my</i> hands. Always employ the
-expert! She has amply proved her right to the money.”</p>
-
-<p>I wonder—I very much wonder what old Andrew Marsh would have thought!</p>
-
-<div class="tn">
-  <p style='text-indent:0'>Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in
-  the January, 1925 issue of <i>The Blue Book Magazine</i>.</p>
-</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MISSING WILL ***</div>
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