Labours Of Hercules By Agatha Christie

He had always wished he said to be high up among snow

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Unformatted text preview: me now, Mademoiselle, be honest, was your father really a Prince or a Grand Duke, or even a General ?" She laughed suddenly. She said: "He drove a lorry in Leningrad!" "Very good! And why should you not be the wife of a garage hand in a country village ? And have children as beautiful as gods, and with feet, perhaps, that will dance as you once danced." 132 Katrina caught her breath. ^But the whole idea is fantastic!" Nevertheless," said Hercule Poirot with great self-satisfaction,cc! believe it is going to come true!" 133 4 THE ERYMANTHIAN BOAR ^ | ^HE accomplishment of the third | Labour of Hercules having brought JL him to Switzerland, Hercule Poirot decided that being there, he might take advantage of the fact and visit certain places which were up to now unknown to him. He passed an agreeable couple of days at Chamonix, lingered a day or two at Montreux and then went on to Aldermatt, a spot which he had heard various friends praise highly. Aldermatt, however, affected him unpleasantly. It was at the end of a valley with towering snow-peaked mountains shutting it in. He felt, unreasonably, that it was difficult to breathe. "Impossible to remain here," said Hercule Poirot to himself. It was at that 134 moment that he caught sight of a funicular railway. "Decidedly, I must mount.w The funicular, he discovered, ascended first to Les Avines, then to Caurouchet and finally to Rochers Neiges, ten thousand feet above sea level. Poirot did not propose mounting as high as all that. Les Avines, he thought, would be quite sufficiently his affair. But here he reckoned without that element of chance which plays so large a part in life. The funicular had started when the conductor approached Poirot and demanded his ticket. After he had inspected it and punched it with a fearsome pair of clippers, he returned it with a bow. At the same time Poirot felt a small wad of paper pressed into his hand with the ticket. The eyebrows of Hercule Poirot rose a little on his forehead. Presently, unostantatiously, without hurrying himself, he smoothed out the wad of paper. It proved to be a hurriedly scribbled note written in pencil. Impossible (it ran) to mistake those moustaches I I salute you, my dear colleague. If you are willing, you can be of great assistance LOH10 I3< to me. You have doubtless read of the ajfaire Salley? The killer--Marrascaud--is believed to have a rendezvous with some members of his gang at Rochers Neiges -- of all places in the world! Of course the whole thing may be a blague -- but our information is reliable -- there is always someone who squeals, is there not ? So keep your eyes open, my friend. Get in touch with Inspector Drouet who is on the spot. He is a sound man -- but he cannot pretend to the brilliance of Hercule Poirot. It is important, my friend, that Marrascaud should be taken -- and taken alive. He is not a man -- he is a wild boar -one of the most dangerous killers alive today. I did not risk...
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This note was uploaded on 07/28/2011 for the course LITERATURE 101 taught by Professor Agathachristie during the Spring '11 term at Heritage.

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