The Big Four
3.5/5
()
About this ebook
At home in London, detective Hercule Poirot is visited by a stranger whose repeated, incoherent ramblings and scribblings of the number four are most alarming—especially when the uninvited guest collapses to the floor. Grasping at the meaning behind his visitor’s words, Poirot soon puts his infamous “little grey cells” to work to track down four criminal masterminds intent on global domination. Reunited with his dear friend Captain Hastings, Poirot embarks on a journey that takes him from England to France and beyond. Suddenly submerged in a world of international espionage in the name of uncovering the dark truth about the Big Four, Poirot risks not just his self-proclaimed reputation as “the great mind in Europe,” but his life.
“It is always a delight to meet Hercule Poirot again. He is one of the few detectives with real charm.” —Dorothy L. Sayers, author of the Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries
“The acknowledged queen of detective fiction.” —The Observer
Agatha Christie
Agatha Christie is known throughout the world as the Queen of Crime. Her books have sold over a billion copies in English with another billion in over 70 foreign languages. She is the most widely published author of all time and in any language, outsold only by the Bible and Shakespeare. She is the author of 80 crime novels and short story collections, 20 plays, and six novels written under the name of Mary Westmacott.
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Titles in the series (7)
The Mysterious Affair at Styles: Poirot's First Case Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Poirot Investigates: Stories Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Murder on the Links Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Murder of Roger Ackroyd Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Big Four Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The Mysterious Affair at Styles: Poirot's First Case Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Double Sin: And Other Stories Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
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Reviews for The Big Four
873 ratings41 reviews
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Agatha Christie seems to have a legendary status as a mystery writer, but up until recently, I've read very few of her books.I took a long time in reading this one. I liked it better than the previous one I read which was a series of short stories--though a couple times in this one it felt like Christie had some short stories that she made fit the Big Four plot. I guessed a couple of the twists because they were also used by Conan Doyle in Sherlock Holmes books.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5A very odd Poirot novel. He & Hastings travel around trying to locate The Big Four supervillains who want to take over the world. Poirot comes across as a sub-standard James Bond. Give me a closed country house / train / ocean liner setting with a small group of suspects & a murder any day. NB. Reading other reviews I understand this was 12 short stories mashed together - and it shows in the disjointed novel.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Poirot was an extraordinary-looking little man. He was hardly more than five feet four inches, but carried himself with great dignity. His head was exactly the shape of an egg, and he always perched it a little on one side. His moustache was very stiff and military. The neatness of his attire was almost incredible; I believe a speck of dust would have caused him more pain than a bullet wound. Yet this quaint dandified little man who, I was sorry to see, now limped badly, had been in his time one of the most celebrated members of the Belgian police. As a detective, his flair had been extraordinary, and he had achieved triumphs by unravelling some of the most baffling cases of the day.Christie, Agatha. Hercule Poirot 3-Book Collection 1: The Mysterious Affair at Styles, The Murder on the Links, Poirot Investigates (Kindle Locations 308-313). HarperCollins Publishers. Kindle Edition.I love Hercule Poirot. Such a great detective. Such a character. There's always a great mystery with lots of twists and turns and red herrings, all of which keep me riveted. The characters are interesting and have complex motives for their actions. I've read many Agatha Christie books before but not all and not in order so I'm in the process of commencing a reread. Highly recommend to crime lovers.The Big Four was not my favourite. Was a bit too disjointed for my tastes. And Hastings is back. I don't understand why he gets married and then spends all his time away from her. Seems pointless to get married. I did enjoy the humor though. Particularly the cutting marks directed at Hastings by Poirot and Japp. And even the villains get in on it. “I should not advise it,” he remarked. “Remember what came of your hasty action in Paris. Let me assure you that my way of retreat is well assured. Your ideas are inclined to be a little crude, Captain Hastings, if I may say so.”Christie, Agatha. The Big Four: A Hercule Poirot Mystery (Hercule Poirot series Book 5) (p. 190). William Morrow Paperbacks. Kindle Edition. Hastings is always so offended which cracks me up. And Poirot's self confidence. My favourite was this; “You guessed this beforehand?” “‘Forecast the probable result of the deal,’” quoted Poirot from a recent bridge problem on which I had spent much time. “Mon ami, when you do that successfully, you do not call it guessing.”Christie, Agatha. The Big Four: A Hercule Poirot Mystery (Hercule Poirot series Book 5) (p. 124). William Morrow Paperbacks. Kindle Edition. Hastings is right - modesty is not his strong point. “And his mistake?” I asked, although I suspected the answer. “Mon ami, he overlooked the little grey cells of Hercule Poirot.” Poirot has his virtues, but modesty is not one of them.Christie, Agatha. The Big Four: A Hercule Poirot Mystery (Hercule Poirot series Book 5) (p. 130). William Morrow Paperbacks. Kindle Edition. But that's alright because it makes for great reading. For all that, with the mystery being so disjointed - investigating each of the Four individually - I just couldn't get into it. 2.5 stars, rounded down to 2.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Embarrassingly contrived, painfully racist and glaringly obvious, except to poor Hastings who’s even denser than usual.Hugh Fraser does a good job as usual on the audio book; his demeaning mock-Chinese accent is regrettable but in tune with the book itself.
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5Digital audiobook narrated by Hugh Fraser 1* Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings are on the trail of an evil syndicate trying to take over the world. That sounds like a James Bond novel synopsis more than a murder mystery featuring the famous Belgian detective and his “little grey cells,” and that is the crux of the problem. Originally these were short stories and Christie tried to weave them together into an espionage thriller, but without much success. The action takes place over several years. There are multiple attempts on Poirot’s and/or Hastings’s lives. I never really knew what this syndicate was after (other than world domination) or why. Most of the scenarios seemed incredibly far-fetched and unrealistic. And worse, they were under-developed. One thing that DID capture my attention (however briefly) was mention of Hastings’s wife. What? He’s married? I don’t recall any other mention of his beloved in any of the other books I’ve read, nor in the TV miniseries. And he’s always on about “auburn-haired” women and mooning over them in the other books..Skip this one and concentrate on the traditional mysteries.Hugh Fraser does a respectable job of narrating the audiobook. I like David Suchet’s interpretation of Poirot better, but that isn’t Fraser’s fault.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Hurcule Poirot finds himself involved in a case of international proportions involving multiple murders planned by four very powerful figures; a Chinese man, a French woman scientist, a wealthy American and a master of disguise, together known as the Big Four.Much to Poirot’s dislike, but a major requirement, he finds himself travelling to various locations in order to learn more about each of his adversaries. One thing that makes it bearable is having Hastings involved to assist him.This particular case runs over a number of months. Little by little, Poirot learns more about each of the Big Four and is able to come up with a solution to stopping the plans of the Four: plans that will affect the governments of the world.It is a bit different in that the time span is longer than usual for Poirot. Also he uses other identities in his sleuthing. The book felt like it was a collection of short stories or four novellas melded together to make a complete book — which I found out that it was comprised of a selection of short stories!I still enjoyed the read.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5So many spy thriller cliches! Evil geniuses, a master of disguise, sinister Chinamen who all look alike, an underground lair....In the best Poirot stories, he, and we, get to know the psychology of each suspect intimately, and they all come together in the solution of the case. In this, players rush on and off the stage so fast, and in such ludicrous get-ups, that we never get to know any of them. This was early in Christie's career, and she clearly hadn't quite found her way yet.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This was a bit different from the past mysteries I've read featuring Poirot. It's still good though, and although it can still be classified as a mystery, there's a lot more action in this one that I thought. The plot is a much faster pace that usual Poirot mysteries, it's read more like an old style movie where the villain thinks they got the best of the hero but he's always got a plan b (Poirot seems to never run out of these) it's an amusing, and fun read but there's plenty of intrigue.This one may be off putting to some as it's so uncharacteristic from Christie's other novels, I was not too crazy about the ending though. Rather cliche (although perhaps meant to be?) and very quick and abrupt.It's an entertaining read but one that definitely is out of the box for Agatha Christie.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5What a long list of characters and Agatha Christie gives vivid descriptions of each person. And so many stories with each of these characters. Hercule Poirot explains to Inspector Japp “and yet you drag the red kipper across the trail,” exactly as Agatha Christie drags the red kippers in the story. The story centers on “The Big Four” which is a group of four powerful individuals: Li Chang Yen from China, a dollar sign from America, a French woman, and “The Destroyer” England. Poirot races to identify and stop this deadly team. The mystery remains how Arthur Hastings spends so much time assisting Poirot in this lengthy hunt and ignoring his wife. Again, Agatha Christie explores the mistaken identity theme. The Destroyer, a master of disguise, approaches Poirot as an asylum keeper, a young butcher, a doctor, and a manservant. Poirot discovers each of the Big Four members and rushes to stop them. Agatha Christie plants hints of Poirot’s brother, Achille as resembling Sherlock Holmes’s brother Mycroft. This story borders on issues happening today.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Big Four (1927) (Poirot #5) by Agatha Christie. This is a rather unusual outing for Poirot. He normally disparages the comings and goings of the police as so many hounds chasing scents rather than sitting quietly and thinking. But in this book he is seldom in his apartments nor in one spot for long. To begin with, Poirot is on his way to South America when Captain Hastings surprisingly just arrives from there. Shortly Poirot realizes the promise of a job and an outrageous payment was just a way to dupe him into leaving the country.This is the work of the Big Four, a foursome of top international criminals. They are so good at the evil they do, no one suspects them. Except for Poirot that is. But even when he presents evidence to the proper authorities in the Home Office, he is only just believed.What follows is a series of near misses and almost total catastrophe for the Belgian sleuth. He and Hastings risk their lives repeatedly in various locations as they endeavor to uncover the true identities of the diabolical cadre.All that is know at the start of the journey is that one is Chinese, one French and one American. The fourth person is an unknown. All they do know is that he is called the “Destroyer”.Sax Rohmer had written about Fu Manchu and the Yellow Menace in 1916 and for the next two decades so and this may be Agatha Christie’s tip of the hat to him. Although, honestly, other than the mastermind being Chinese, according to rumor, there is nothing else here that is similar.And we discover that Poirot has a twin brother. Imagine that!In a nod to our current situation with being shut in away from the world, at one point Poirot and Hastings are doing a self-imposed exile of their ownIt was driving Hastings stir crazy. Imagine that!
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5A mildly amusing ripoff of Sherlock Holmes jousting with Moriarty.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Synopsis:This is book 5 in the Hercule Poirot Mystery Series. Poirot goes up against four super-villains. A Chinaman, a rich American, a French Woman, and "The Destroyer".My rating:2.5/5Of all the Hercule Poirot books, this has been my least favorite so far. I think that this book is one of those that either you love or you hate. It doesn't feel like a typical Poirot book. If you watch television series that do a musical episode or some other similar "artsy" episode that feels out of place in the series I think that is a comparison to this book.Typically, Poirot is solving mysteries involving people. He isn't wrapped up in conspiracies with people wanting to take over the world.Poirot also doesn't quite act like himself and things get zany. There were many times I felt like Poirot and Hastings were in a Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon.I know some people have said this book is amazing and was perhaps Christie's tribute/shout-out/etc to Sherlock Holmes. I haven't read Sherlock Holmes so I can't comment on that. Whatever her reasons for writing it were I can appreciate that it exists and that Poirot can even win against world power super-villains but honestly I just want him to solve small-town murders of rich ladies who just changed their wills.I will note that the David Suchet televised version of this story takes a twist that turns it back into a more typical Poirot mystery and I think I liked that version better than Christie's own.If you are starting in the Poirot series do not start here because this isn't a good example of what the Poirot books are. If you read it and love it you may be disappointed with future books where Poirot is at places like Styles solving the poisoning of an old woman. If you hate this book because it is so zany and more James Bond-esque you will be missing out on an amazing opportunity to determine if Poirot is a detective you can enjoy.If you are reading this book as part of a series read then I think you will either love the novelty of it, as some do with the musical episodes of television series, or, like me, you will roll your eyes, accept it exists, and hope that the Queen of Mystery got that out of her system and won't ruin another Poirot mystery by trying to turn it into a super-spy thriller story. Poirot isn't James Bond and I don't want him to be. I want to see Poirot being Poirot. That is what he is good at and that is why I keep coming back again and again for more.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Really more of a spy novel than a mystery, though there were some smaller murder mysteries in there (another reviewer says these started out as independent short stories that were stiched together with connections to the Big 4 bolted on--I don't know if that's true, but it certainly could be). I enjoyed it anyway, but the end in particular really wanted James Bond, not Poirot.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The Big Four by Agatha Christie was first published in 1927 and features Hercule Poirot with assistance from his friend Hastings and Inspector Japp. Instead of being a work of detective fiction, this story is much more about espionage and international intrigue.Poirot and Hasting become involved in tracking down a crime consortium that calls itself The Big Four and appears to be focused on “world domination”. Headed by four international criminals, Poirot must first uncover the identities of each of the four. As the hunt commences, the book becomes more of a sensational adventure piece with Poirot as the action hero and Hastings as his trusty sidekick. The Big Four was written during a difficult period in Ms. Christie’s life, and began as a series of stories that were then mashed together as one. She herself has called it “that rotten book”. The Big Four really has none of the qualities that I look for in a Poirot book. Instead of sitting back, examining the evidence and putting his “little grey cells” to work, in this book he is donning disguises, faking his death and detonating smoke bombs, entirely too much action for the little detective. Luckily this book with it’s silly plot was a quick read and now can be shoved to the back of my mind and forgotten about.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The eponymous Big Four are a global group of criminal masterminds, and Hercule Poirot is on their case. Through a series of short and largely independent mysteries (it turns out that they were all short stories originally, and then combined into the novel later on), Poirot and Hastings learn more about the bad guys and ultimately put them away. In many ways, this one has more in common with a Saturday adventure matinee or a pulp novel of the period than it has in common with the usual Christie cozy, but it's still a lot of fun, even as the reader continues to see the evolution of Christie's style and the genre home that she is slowly carving for herself. Where characterizations are concerned, this one also shows a Christie who is still learning her way, as the people we meet are largely cardboard stereotypes of their respective ethnicities and the like. In many ways, I could have easily seen this being an outing for the likes of The Shadow or Doc Savage instead of Poirot, but it was entertaining nonetheless.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Just as Poirot is about to leave for South America (and Hastings arrives from South America,) a man wanders into Poirot's office/apartment deliriously muttering something about "The Big Four"... International intrigue and homicides notwithstanding, absolutely ridiculous plot and characters. It's hard to believe that this came from the same author who gave is, 'The Murder of Roger Ackroyd'!
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I am a huge Agatha Christie fan and I absolutely adore Hercule Poirot, but this book fell flat for me. It seemed that Dame Agatha tried too much with this one. There were so many conspiracies going on and so many plot twists, that Hastings wasn't the only clueless person around. Plus all of the times that Poirot foiled the plots of the Big Four, but did not manage to capture them, made the story appear to drag on forever. However, it IS Agatha Christie and it IS Hercule Poirot, so I still enjoyed it nonetheless.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I read a few of Christie's detective series featuring Hercule Poirot in my wayward youth, but now I'm working my way through them in order. This entry finds the funny little Belgian with the "little gray cells" up against a vast international conspiracy called The Big Four. It takes all of Poirot's ingenuity and even a little help from the dim-witted Hastings (back in London for a visit, having left the wife he met and married in [Murder on the Links] back in Argentina). As usual, Christie's plotting is first-rate. I was intrigued by the structure of the book, which is almost a series of interconnected stories (more accurately nearly standalone chapters) leading up to the big denouement.
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5
- ?
Four unknown powerful people: A Chinese, a Frenchwoman, an American businessman, & an Assassin are bent on taking over the world....
As Hastings arrives on a surprise visit to his "bon ami" M. Poirot, he finds M. Poirot on his way to South America on "business". It all turns out to be a wild goose chase in order to get M. Poirot out of the way so that the BIG 4 may put a plan of diabolical intelligence into play. An unknown man is in one of M. Poirot's rooms and is ranting about,Li Chang Yan, Chinese man of great power who is about unleash a diabolical plan..... M. Poirot & Hastings depart in order to learn more about Li Chang Yan from a well known Chinese antiquities scholar, leaving the man resting safely...
Upon returning to Poirot's home, they find the man poisoned and an attendant of the local asylum knocking on the door asking about the dead man (an escapee).... Upon further investigation the "escapee" turns out to be Mayerling from the CID who has gone missing years before and the "attendant" #4, the assassin.
The book continues, ad nauseum, in this vein.... One mysterious death, kidnapping, attempt on M. Poirot's life after another.... Bad enough that Hastings is always such a proficient bumbler, but that M. Poirot should be too?
The dang book, just went on too long and it seemed to be more of a comédie noire, than a serious mystery..... Just a plain waste of time and a annoyance. - Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5This is, up to now, my least favourite in the Poirot series. Of course, it's fun to read as the writing style of Christie as such is as good as ever. However, The Big Four is more of a thriller story than a real detective narrative. Afterwards, I read that it was composed of separately published short stories and that Christie herself noted ``I have been, once, in a position where I wanted to write just for the sake of money coming in and when I felt I couldn't – it is a nerve wracking feeling. [...] That was the time I had to produce that rotten book The Big Four [...]''. One can tell. :-(
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Stealing a bit of a page from Doyle/Sherlock, perhaps? The detective's faked death, the dim-witted friend who can't be let in on the secret. (Hastings is an idiot)
I found the out/escape a little "too easy", and other than Hastings presence, the book was an enjoyable read. - Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5Like most of Christie's political suspense mysteries, The Big Four falls flat. The string of coincidences and lucky breaks would shame even Dickens, while the tricks and twists are so contrived that they're almost laughable. At one point Poirot and Hastings are captured and the criminal mastermind asks Poirot if he has any last requests. He asks to smoke a cigarette, which their captor places in Poirot's mouth. What do you know — the cigarette is actually a blowgun tipped with curare, allowing them to escape. And that's just one of the many impossibly silly moments in this story. Oy. The only redeeming feature of this novel is the humor. Poirot, as described by his friend Hastings, is quite funny. So is Hastings' own lack of self perception. Another comic bit comes in with the revelation that Poirot has a twin brother, Achille Poirot. "Do you not know that all celebrated detectives have brothers who would be even more celebrated than they are were it not for constitutional indolence?" Poirot asks the astonished Hastings. Hehe. I'm a Christie fan and enjoy most of her work, but I can't warm up to her efforts at international conspiracy stuff. Give me her country house, cozy mysteries any day — that's where she earns her reputation as one of the best-loved authors in the mystery genre.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I haven't read a lot of Agatha Christie but this was certainly the most clichéd mystery novel I have read. Hastings comes across as more dim-witted than usual and all the villains are stereotypes of 20s racial views. The story is certainly of its time but not the best of Christie from what I've read so far.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5An excellent Christie work. There are many small mysteries solved by the little grey-celled Belgian that all stack together to lead to the Big Four themselves and their crimes.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I love the Grand Dame of mystery, and Hercule Poirot is one of my favorites. His adventures can be quite different from each other, but this is the first Poirot book I've read where Christie indulged in her secret criminal conspiracy plot device. She clearly had a fondness for spy intrigue and shady evil organizations, and I've read some of her other books that develop this theme, but never with Poirot before. While I find her books in this vein entertaining, I do prefer her more pure mysteries. The evil masterminds strike me as cartoony and unbelievable. I am being harsh - I like Noir style mysteries, and the Thin Man series, and they have many traits in common, but I suppose I am happier when Christie is spinning out a web of lies and deceit in an intimate setting of family and friends, rather than crafting spy capers. To leave meandering, and address this particular book, I did enjoy it, and read through it in only two days. The story reunites Poirot with his old friend Hastings, who serves as a wonderful foil to his sleuthing. Hastings rightly points out Poirot's arrogance and finicky ways, but consistently overestimates his own talents and intelligence, and is righteously indignant when anyone points out his flaws (especially in comparison with Poirot). Nonetheless, the two men are close friends, and the story begins with Hastings embarked on a surprise visit. He lives in South America, but is in England for business. However, when he arrives at Poirot's flat, the Belgian is about to embark on a business trip to South America! Poirot is reluctant to go - he has been occupied with a mysterious organization called the Big Four, who he suspects are mastermind criminals. Poirot made a promise, though, and he intends to keep it. Until an unexpected visitor joins them, walking into the sitting room from Poirot's bedroom.The man is covered in mud and nearly catatonic. He keeps repeating the same phrases over and over. More unusual, of course, is the fact that he arrived from the bedroom of a flat on an upper story, where the only entry is a window, and that he is rambling about the Big Four. Poroit eventually realizes that his trip to South America was arranged by the mysterious 4, and he promptly heads back to his flat, but not in time to stop the bad guys from killing his visitor, who turns out to be a part of British secret intelligence. Now that Poirot's suspicions are confirmed, the hunt is on, and he will stop at nothing to track down and destroy the Big Four. Although the book is a novel, it often feels like a collection of short stories. In order to fight the Big Four, Poirot and Hastings follow every lead they find that is connected to the group. These nebulous connections lead into mini mysteries of their own, like the old man with his throat slit in his own house when no strangers visited the town, and the scientist who went missing in France. Some of the smaller episodes are more spy adventure, such as when Hastings goes undercover in the rich American's house to find out if he is one of the infamous four. Eventually, Poirot learns how to anticipate his opponents' moves, and puts all the random clues and leads together, planning a way to completely outmaneuver the Big Four and end their tyranny.While not my favorite Poirot adventure, this novel is still highly entertaining and readable. The relationship between Poirot and Hastings is precious. Several times I laughed aloud at things one of them said. The small mysteries are satisfying, and the ending is appropriately grand and melodramatic. I know not everyone likes Christie mysteries, but I don't understand why, because she is such fun. This is not one of her finest works, but it's still a good time.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Poirot is brought up against an international conspiracy headed by the melodramatically-named Big Four: four individuals from America, France, China, and England. Poirot faces each in a series of extremely contrived adventures. The story is extremely cheesy, but lots of fun. Not a story to be taken seriously, but an enjoyable romp.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5My least favorite Agatha Christie book...it just didn't work having Poirot take on "The Big Four". Poirot works better in a tradional mystery setting (someone dies, there are clues, people get questioned, mystery gets solved).
Characters are still amazing. The Plot just wasn't up to her usual quality. - Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Plot is a bit far-fetched, but good fun as I remember, though modern readers may be taken aback by some of Christie's obvious prejudices.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5A decent book that owes a lot to Arthur Conan Doyle. A lot. I prefer more character development than this, which is mainly a loose collection of short stories based around a central theme. Still, the relationship between Poirot and Hastings is well displayed.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Part of my mission to read all the Christie-books, this is a Poirot mystery. Here Hercule takes on a case which turns out to be of global importance. This makes this book somewhat different in style to the standard "a guy has been killed by poison in his hot chocolate" kind of story. Not one of my favourites by Christie, but still a worthwhile read.
Book preview
The Big Four - Agatha Christie
the big four
Agatha Christie
1.
the unexpected guest
I have met people who enjoy a channel crossing; men who can sit calmy in their deck-chairs and, on arrival, wait until the boat is moored, then gather their belongings together without fuss and disembark. Personally, I can never manager this. From the moment I get on board I feel that the time is too short to settle down to anything. I move my suit-cases from one spot to another, and if I go down to the saloon for a meal, I bolt my food with an uneasy feeling that the boat may arrive unexpectedly whilst I am below. Perhaps all this is merely a legacy from one’s short leaves in the war, when it seemed a matter of such importance to secure a place near the gangway, and to be amongst the first to disembark lest one should waste precious minutes of one’s three or five days’ leave.
On this particular July morning, as I stood by the rail and watched the white cliffs of Dover drawing nearer, I marvelled at the passengers who could sit calmly in their chairs and never even raise their eyes for the first sight of their native land. Yet perhaps their case was different from mine. Doubtless many of them had only crossed to Paris for the week-end, whereas I had spent the last year and a half on a ranch in the Argentine. I had prospered there, and my wife and I had both enjoyed the free and easy life of the South American continent, nevertheless it was with a lump in my throat that I watched the familiar shore draw nearer and nearer.
I had landed in France two days before, transacted some necessary business, and was now en route for London. I should be there some months—time enough to look up old friends, and one old friend in particular. A little man with an egg-shaped head and green eyes—Hercule Poirot! I proposed to take him completely by surprise. My last letter from the Argentine had given no hint of my intended voyage—indeed, that had been decided upon hurriedly as a result of certain business complications—and I spent many amused moments picturing to myself his delight and stupefaction on beholding me.
He, I knew, was not likely to be far from his headquarters. The time when his cases had drawn him from one end of England to the other was past. His fame had spread, and no longer would he allow one case to absorb all his time. He aimed more and more, as time went on, at being considered a consulting detective
—as much a specialist as a Harley Street physician. He had always scoffed at the popular idea of the human bloodhound who assumed wonderful disguises to track criminals, and who paused at every footprint to measure it.
No, my friend Hastings,
he would say; we leave that to Giraud and his friends. Hercule Poirot’s methods are his own. Order and method, and ‘the little gray cells.’ Sitting at ease in our own arm-chairs we see the things that these others overlook, and we do not jump to the conclusion like the worthy Japp.
No; there was little fear of finding Hercule Poirot far afield.
On arrival in London, I deposited my luggage at an hotel and drove straight on to the old address. What poignant memories it brought back to me! I hardly waited to greet my old landlady, but hurried up the stairs two at a time and rapped on Poirot’s door.
Enter, then,
cried a familiar voice from within.
I strode in. Poirot stood facing me. In his arms he carried a small valise, which he dropped with a crash on beholding me.
"Mon ami, Hastings! he cried.
Mon ami, Hastings!"
And, rushing forward, he enveloped me in a capacious embrace. Our conversation was incoherent and inconsequent. Ejaculations, eager questions, incomplete answers, messages from my wife, explanations as to my journey, were all jumbled up together.
I suppose there’s some one in my old rooms?
I asked at last, when we had calmed down somewhat. I’d love to put up here again with you.
Poirot’s face changed with startling suddenness.
"Mon Dieu! but what a chance épouvantable. Regard around you, my friend."
For the first time I took note of my surroundings. Against the wall stood a vast ark of a trunk of prehistoric design. Near to it were placed a number of suit-cases, ranged neatly in order of size from large to small. The inference was unmistakable.
You are going away?
Yes.
Where to?
South America.
"What?"
Yes, it is a droll farce, is it not? It is to Rio I go, and every day I say to myself, I will write nothing in my letters—but oh! the surprise of the good Hastings when he beholds me!
But when are you going?
Poirot looked at his watch.
In an hour’s time.
I thought you always said nothing would induce you to make a long sea voyage?
Poirot closed his eyes and shuddered.
Speak not of it to me, my friend. My doctor, he assures me that one dies not of it—and it is for the one time only; you understand, that never—never shall I return.
He pushed me into a chair.
Come, I will tell you how it all came about. Do you know who is the richest man in the world? Richer even than Rockefeller? Abe Ryland.
The American Soap King?
"Precisely. One of his secretaries approached me. There is some very considerable, as you would call it, hocus-pocus going on in connection with a big company in Rio. He wished me to investigate matters on the spot. I refused. I told him that if the facts were laid before me, I would give him my expert opinion. But that he professed himself unable to do. I was to be put in possession of the facts only on my arrival out there. Normally, that would have closed the matter. To dictate to Hercule Poirot is sheer impertinence. But the sum offered was so stupendous that for the first time in my life I was tempted by mere money. It was a competence—a fortune! And there was a second attraction—you, my friend. For this last year and a half I have been a very lonely old man. I thought to myself, Why not? I am beginning to weary of this unending solving of foolish problems. I have achieved sufficient fame. Let me take this money and settle down somewhere near my old friend."
I was quite affected by this token of Poirot’s regard.
So I accepted,
he continued, and in an hour’s time I must leave to catch the boat train. One of life’s little ironies, is it not? But I will admit to you, Hastings, that had not the money offered been so big, I might have hesitated, for just lately I have begun a little investigation of my own. Tell me, what is commonly meant by the phrase, ‘The Big Four’?
I suppose it had its origin at the Versailles Conference, and then there’s the famous ‘Big Four’ in the film world, and the term is used by hosts of smaller fry.
I see,
said Poirot thoughtfully. I have come across the phrase, you understand, under certain circumstances where none of those explanations would apply. It seems to refer to a gang of international criminals or something of that kind; only—
Only what?
I asked, as he hesitated.
Only that I fancy that it is something on a large scale. Just a little idea of mine, nothing more. Ah, but I must complete my packing. The time advances.
Don’t go,
I urged. Cancel your passage and come out on the same boat with me.
Poirot drew himself up and glanced at me reproachfully.
Ah, it is that you do not understand! I have passed my word, you comprehend—the word of Hercule Poirot. Nothing but a matter of life or death could detain me now.
And that’s not likely to occur,
I murmured ruefully. Unless at the eleventh hour ‘the door opens and the unexpected guest comes in.’
I quoted the old saw with a slight laugh, and then, in the pause that succeeded it, we both started as a sound came from the inner room.
What’s that?
I cried.
"Ma foi! retorted Poirot.
It sounds very like your ‘unexpected guest’ in my bedroom."
But how can any one be in there? There’s no door except into this room.
Your memory is excellent, Hastings. Now for the deductions.
The window! But it’s a burglar then? He must have had a stiff climb of it—I should say it was almost impossible.
I had risen to my feet and was striding in the direction of the door when the sound of a fumbling at the handle from the other side arrested me.
The door swung slowly open. Framed in the doorway stood a man. He was coated from head to foot with dust and mud; his face was thin and emaciated. He stared at us for a moment, and then swayed and fell. Poirot hurried to his side, then he looked up and spoke to me.
Brandy—quickly.
I dashed some brandy into a glass and brought it. Poirot managed to administer a little, and together we raised him and carried him to the couch. In a few minutes he opened his eyes and looked round him with an almost vacant stare.
What is it you want, monsieur?
said Poirot.
The man opened his lips and spoke in a queer mechanical voice.
M. Hercule Poirot, 14 Farraway Street.
Yes, yes; I am he.
The man did not seem to understand, and merely repeated in exactly the same tone:—
M. Hercule Poirot, 14 Farraway Street.
Poirot tried him with several questions. Sometimes the man did not answer at all; sometimes he repeated the same phrase. Poirot made a sign to me to ring up on the telephone.
Get Dr. Ridgeway to come round.
The doctor was in luckily; and as his house was only just round the corner, few minutes elapsed before he came bustling in.
What’s all this, eh?
Poirot gave a brief explanation, and the doctor started examining our strange visitor, who seemed quite unconscious of his presence or ours.
H’m!
said Dr. Ridgeway, when he had finished. Curious case.
Brain fever?
I suggested.
The doctor immediately snorted with contempt.
Brain fever! Brain fever! No such thing as brain fever. An invention of novelists. No; the man’s had a shock of some kind. He’s come here under the force of a persistent idea—to find M. Hercule Poirot, 14 Farraway Street—and he repeats those words mechanically without in the least knowing what they mean.
Aphasia?
I said eagerly.
This suggestion did not cause the doctor to snort quite as violently as my last one had done. He made no answer, but handed the man a sheet of paper and a pencil.
Let’s see what he’ll do with that,
he remarked.
The man did nothing with it for some moments, then he suddenly began to write feverishly. With equal suddenness he stopped and let both paper and pencil fall to the ground. The doctor picked it up, and shook his head.
Nothing here. Only the figure 4 scrawled a dozen times, each one bigger than the last. Wants to write 14 Farraway Street, I expect. It’s an interesting case—very interesting. Can you possibly keep him here until this afternoon? I’m due at the hospital now, but I’ll come back this afternoon and make all arrangements about him. It’s too interesting a case to be lost sight of.
I explained Poirot’s departure and the fact that I proposed to accompany him to Southampton.
That’s all right. Leave the man here. He won’t get into mischief. He’s suffering from complete exhaustion. Will probably sleep for eight hours on end. I’ll have a word with that excellent Mrs. Funnyface of yours, and tell her to keep an eye on him.
And Dr. Ridgeway bustled out with his usual celerity. Poirot hastily completed his packing, with one eye on the clock.
"The time, it marches with a rapidity unbelievable. Come now, Hastings, you cannot say that I have left you with nothing to do. A most sensational problem. The man from the unknown. Who is he? What is he? Ah, sapristi, but I would give two years of my life to have this boat go to-morrow instead of to-day. There is something here very curious—very interesting. But one must have time—time. It may be days—or even months—before he will be able to tell us what he came to tell."
I’ll do my best, Poirot,
I assured him. I’ll try to be an efficient substitute.
Ye-es.
His rejoinder struck me as being a shade doubtful. I picked up the sheet of paper.
If I were writing a story,
I said lightly, "I should weave this in with your latest idiosyncrasy and call it The Mystery of the Big Four." I tapped the pencilled figures as I spoke.
And then I started, for our invalid, roused suddenly from his stupor, sat up in his chair and said clearly and distinctly:
Li Chang Yen.
He had the look of a man suddenly awakened from sleep. Poirot made a sign to me not to speak. The man went on. He spoke in a clear, high voice, and something in his enunciation made me feel that he was quoting from some written report or lecture.
"Li Chang Yen may be regarded as representing the brains of the Big Four. He is the controlling and motive force. I have designated him, therefore, as Number One. Number Two is seldom mentioned by name. He is represented by an ‘S’ with two lines through it—the sign for a dollar; also by two stripes and a star. It may be conjectured, therefore, that he is an American subject, and that he represents the power of wealth. There seems no doubt that Number Three is a woman, and her nationality French. It is possible that she may be one of the sirens of the demi-monde but nothing is known definitely. Number Four—"
His voice faltered and broke. Poirot leant forward.
Yes,
he prompted eagerly. Number Four?
His eyes were fastened on the man’s face. Some overmastering terror seemed to be gaining the day; the features were distorted and twisted.
"The destroyer," gasped the man. Then, with a final convulsive movement, he fell back in a dead faint.
"Mon Dieu! whispered Poirot,
I was right then. I was right."
You think—?
He interrupted me.
Carry him on to the bed in my room. I have not a minute to lose if I would catch my train. Not that I want to catch it. Oh, that I could miss it with a clear conscience! But I gave my word. Come, Hastings!
Leaving our mysterious visitor in the charge of Mrs. Pearson, we drove away, and duly caught the train by the skin of our teeth. Poirot was alternately silent and loquacious. He would sit staring out of the window like a man lost in a dream, apparently not hearing a word that I said to him. Then, reverting to animation suddenly, he would shower injunctions and commands upon me, and urge the necessity of constant marconigrams.
We had a long fit of silence just after we passed Woking. The train, of course, did not stop anywhere until Southampton; but just here it happened to be held up by a signal.
"Ah! Sacré mille tonnerres! cried Poirot suddenly.
But I have been an imbecile. I see clearly at last. It is undoubtedly the blessed saints who stopped the train. Jump, Hastings, but jump, I tell you."
In an instant he had unfastened the carriage door, and jumped out on the line.
Throw out the suit-cases and jump yourself.
I obeyed him. Just in time. As I alighted beside him, the train moved on.
And now Poirot,
I said, in some exasperation, perhaps you will tell me what all this is about.
It is, my friend, that I have seen the light.
That,
I said, is very illuminating to me.
It should be,
said Poirot, but I fear—I very much fear that it is not. If you can carry two of these valises, I think I can manage the rest.
2.
the man from the asylum
Fortunately the train had stopped