Labours Of Hercules By Agatha Christie

Yes that would not only be amusing it would be

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Unformatted text preview: n said last night as he left: '^Yours are not the Labours of Hercules. ..." Ah, but there he was wrong, the old fossil. There should be, once again, the Labours of Hercules -- a modem Hercules. An ingenious and amusing conceit! In the period before his final retirement he would accept twelve cases, no more, no less. And those twelve cases should be selected with special reference to the twelve labours of ancient Hercules. Yes, that would not only be amusing, it would be artistic, it would be spiritual. Poirot picked up the Classical Dictionary and immersed himself once more in classical lore. He did not intend to follow his prototype too closely. There should be no women, no shirt of Nessus. . . . The Labours and the Labours only. The first Labour, then, would be that of the Nemean Lion. "The Nemean Lion," he repeated, trying it over on his tongue. Naturally he did not expect a case to ll present itself actually involving a flesh and blood lion. It would be too much of a coincidence should he be approached by the Directors of the Zoological Gardens to solve a problem for them involving a real lion. No, here symbolism must be involved. The first case must concern some celebrated public figure, it must be sensational and of the first importance! Some master criminal -- or alternately someone who was a lion in the public eye. Some well-known writer, or politician, or painter -- or even Royalty ? He liked the idea of Royalty. . . . He would not be in a hurry. He would wait -- wait for that case of high importance that should be the first of his selfimposed Labours. 12 1 THE NEMEAN LION (c ANYTHING of interest this morning, j—\ Miss Lemon?" he asked as he JL centered the room the following morning. He trusted Miss Lemon. She was a woman without imagination, but she had an instinct. Anything that she mentioned as worth consideration usually was worth consideration. She was a born secretary. "Nothing much, M. Poirot. There is just one letter that I thought might interest you. I have put it on the top of the pile." "And what is that ?" he took an interested step forward. "It's from a man who wants you to investigate the disappearance of his wife's Pekinese dog." Poirot paused with his foot still in the air. He threw a glance of deep reproach at 13 Miss Lemon. She did not notice it. She had begun to type. She typed with the speed and precision of a quick-firing tank. Poirot was shaken; shaken and embittered. Miss Lemon, the efficient Miss Lemon, had let him down! A Pekinese dog. A Pekinese dog! And after the dream he had had last night. He had been leaving Buckingham Palace after being personally thanked when his valet had come in with his morning chocolate! Words trembled on his lips -- witty caustic words. He did not utter them because Miss Lemon, owing to the speed and efficiency of her typing, would not have heard them. With a grunt of disgust he picked up the topmost letter from the little pile on the side of his desk. Yes, it wa...
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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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