Whalley was killed by order of the Big Four--but not by

Grant. A very clever man got Grant the post and deliberately planned to make him the scapegoat--an easy

matter with Grant's prison record. He gave him a pair

of boots, one of two duplicate pairs. The other he kept

himself. It was all so simple. When Grant is out of the

house, and Betsy is chatting in the village (which she

probably did everyday of her life), he drives up wearing the duplicate boots, enters the kitchen, goes through

into the living-room, fells the old man with a blow, and then cuts his throat. Then he returns to the kitchen,

removes the boots, puts on another pair, and, carrying

the first pair, goes out to his trap and drives off again." Ingles looked steadily at Poirot.

"There's a catch in it still. Why did nobody see

him?"

"Ah! That is where the cleverness of Number Four, I

THE BIG FOUR 39

am convinced, comes in. Everybody saw him—and yet

nobody saw him. You see, he drove up in a butcher's

cart!"

I uttered an exclamation.

"The leg of mutton?"

"Exactly, Hastings, the leg of mutton. Everybody

swore that no one had been to Granite Bungalow that

morning, but, nevertheless, I found in the larder a leg of mutton, still frozen. It was Monday, so the meat must

have been delivered that morning; for if on Saturday, in this hot weather, it would not have remained frozen

over Sunday. So some one had been to the Bungalow,

and a man on whom a trace of blood here and there

would attract no attention."

"Damned ingenious!" cried Ingles approvingly.

"Yes, he is clever. Number Four."

' 'As clever as Hercule Poirot?'' I murmured.

My friend threw me a glance of dignified reproach.

"There are some jests that you should not permit

yourself, Hastings," he said sententiously. "Have I not saved an innocent man from being sent to the gallows?

That is enough for one day."

^x«-«< "

5

^Disappearance

of a Scientist

Personally, I don't think that, even when a jury had acquitted Robert Grant, alias Biggs, of the murder of

Jonathan Whalley, Inspector Meadows was entirely

convinced of his innocence. The case which he had built

up against Grant--the man's record, the jade which he

had stolen, the boots which fitted the footprints so

exactly--was to his matter-of-fact mind too complete to

be easily upset; but Poirot, compelled much against his

inclination to give evidence, convinced the jury. Two

witnesses were produced who had seen a butcher's cart

drive up to the bungalow on that Monday morning, and

the local butcher testified that his cart only called there on Wednesdays and Fridays.

A woman was actually found who, when questioned,

remembered seeing the butcher's man leaving the bungalow, but she could furnish no useful description of

him. The only impression he seemed to have left on her

41

42 Agatha Christie

mind was that he was clean-shaven, of medium height,