Mon Post Ultime

Bonsoir, mes amis.

I would that you know that my time is coming soon.

I will admit that I was false to you, ought of necessity, when I said that I was not concerned where Dom Juan would go when I released him. I used the opportunity to follow him, believing, rightly that he may go back to the Cabal from which he came. I was eager to find this Moriarty and, as you say, return the favor.

However, in the middle of mon espionnage I was made aware that this same professeur was refictionalized. Moreover, he was refictionalized by his very own in this Cabal, and for the same deed of his against Holmes. This came as something of a surprise, you could say. It deprived me of an opportunity to obtain this justice myself. It also made me wonder about the character of the other members of this Cabal, who would so punish one of their own for his violence and manipulation.

C’est la vie. Que reste-t-il à faire?

Well, I have found something still; with little left to do I continued to follow Dom Juan to this Morgan Le Fay. Mademoiselle Le Fay confided that it was she that sent Professeur Moriarty back to his origin, and that her concern at the moment was “neutralizing”, as she said, un monstre: Cthulhu, as he is known.

I wished to be angry still at her, for being in this Cabal; to be bitter for stealing my lightning in refictionalizing Moriarty herself. I wished to continue in mourning for my partner, Monsieur Holmes. But I have mourned once already. Anything further would be… improductif. Mademoiselle Le Fay already removed one monster from the world. Why not let her remove another?

After all, was not Monsieur Holmes my enemy once?

I have also since been contacted by Monsieur Administrateur, telling me that a “metaguard” — an associate volunteer of his — is in serious trouble in his home in the state of Nebraska. Another fictional character, “une sorcière méchante“, is threatening him with her “magic”. Monsieur Administrateur has requested that I intercept her, and protect this metaguard, the best that I can.

He has named this metaguard as “Sicon”. It is a name that I recognize well and fondly. I remember Sicon wishing me good fortune when I was hiding in London. As such, I will be sure to return the favor of goodwill and protect Sicon with my life.

Et qu’en suit-il alors?

I have told Monsieur Administrateur that I believe this to be my last assignment with him as mon bienfaiteur. I have spent myself to my limit of my usefulness in this world, and the time for me to return is coming. On this there is little to be said; I have learned much from my experience the last several months. I have accumulated many memories, many of them fond; of Madame Widdecombe and her Lionel, of la famille Cavaignac, of Daniel and Esteban, of Monsieur Barker (ou Todd) and then of Monsieur Holmes and, yes, even of Dom Juan. But most of all I have fond memories of you all, for your persistent monitoring of my exploit, your frequent help, and most of all of your sincere concern for me, a concern which, as I will prove with Sicon, is mutual. I do not know if, in returning, I will keep any of these memories. I may only hope that you have the care to keep them yourselves, but I have faith that you shall. I have always been un homme de foi.

In my time here in this world, I have seen much evil under the sun. Yet I have also seen much warmth and kindness in this world as well. What comes of it I shall leave to you.

Le soleil se couche. Je dois y aller.

Merci beaucoup.

Hercule Poirot, nom de plume Reynald Saint-Jerome”


Dear readers and all who care about Monsieur Sherlock Holmes;

It is with a heavy heart that I announce to you that my partnership with Sherlock Holmes has come to an abrupt end; for as of 12:08pm today he left this world and has been, as you say, refictionalized.

Mon Dieu. I do not know where to begin.

I suppose it began with the proposition by Mademoiselle Qara that Holmes make an attempt to refictionalize this Professeur Moriarty, so that we may be rid of him. Holmes, driven out of his personal, as you say, vendetta against this Moriarty, Holmes agreed in the belief that he could lure Moriarty into a trap without him realizing it. And because he regarded this vendetta as his own, he kept his silence with me.

It was for this reason that he allowed his recording device to be “lost”, or so he wished it to appear. Our reading helpers around us then attempted to return the device, and in doing so alerted the attention of Moriarty, as Monsieur Holmes also intended. Moriarty understood the meeting address and time as a result of what appeared to be a mistake; using it so he could approach Holmes personally. Holmes had little reason to suspect he wouldn’t, since their vendetta was personal and Holmes believed none of the other associates in this Cabal would be willing to act on Moriarty’s behalf.

However, I caught wise. Holmes knew his attempt to set a trap and likewise packed his bags, against his usual style de vie Bohème. Further he gave his instructions to me for his long term departure should he not come back. Deducing as I am apt to do that something was not right, I confronted Holmes and forced him to speak to me by any means I could. Finally, after I seemed to blow his cover on the website, he decided that he should tell me and not reveal his little scheme. He insisted I not interfere, saying this fight of his was personal, with Moriarty and him.

Oh, courage insensé!

He believed Moriarty was too much like himself, and in doing so underestimated him. Quelle ironie.

But Holmes underestimated me, and my desire to be involved.

For Moriarty had one that would involve himself; a Monsieur “Long John Silver”. Silver was led to believe falsely that helping Moriarty would be repaid, as you say, quid pro quo, and Moriarty would in return Gulliver back into the real world. This, I have come to learn, was something Moriarty could not actually do.

Understanding Holmes’ wishes, I nevertheless ignored them. I followed him to the Bibliothèque and, hiding myself among, les étagères, was able to listen in on their meeting. But the voice I listened to on the other side was not the refined Oxonian accent of a professeur but the vulgar trudge befitting a sailor of the old seas. Knowing that something had gone wrong I tried to intervene. I called up nos bienfaiteur, Monsieur l’Administrateur, and requested to obtain the materials to reficionalize this Monsieur Silver immédiatement, and he hurriedly elevated it to Canon.

But it was too late. Holmes was refictionalized.

I cornered this culprit, this swine in the media room where the met, and after cursory questioning of his identity and motive I sent him back, in a fit of vengeance. I was tempted to change the story en mon cruauté but it was no use; this Silver was a pawn, moved like a marionnette by the true villain, this Moriarty. I respected the author’s wishes and allow the poor man to have the bittersweet ending he was originally afforded and which in honesty he deserved.

I give this to you for your review:

With a heavy heart I returned back to our base and found Don Juan waiting patiently in his binds with a look of confusion. He asked what had happened and, refusing to answer, en silence I printed out the story that Holmes had compiled from the website. I can hardly tell you the passionate rage that was running through my veins, and the begs of Don Juan for an explanation only drove me further. With the pages out I began to read them allowed and Don Juan cried in desperation. “NO! This isn’t right! What have I done to deserve this?” And his asking of this drove me off the edge.

“What haven’t you done to deserve this, you filth! You are as much a swine today as you ever were!” I took him by the scruff of the neck. “I have already put one of your friends back where he belonged today; and I would do just the same to you!” But I halted. “But I would not betray Holmes’ wishes twice in one day either; they were his last after all!” Hence I slashed his bonds. “Monsieur Juan, I still refuse to look on your face another day, so for the sake of the fallen, GET OUT MY SIGHT!”

Hence I have released Don Juan from his custody, albeit in a manner of rage that frightened him (though he deserved no better). Where he goes concerns me little. I would grieve for Holmes but I know that is not what he would wish me to do; he would wish me to finish what he started. Therefore, I offer myself to any and all who would go after this Cabal – quelle que soit la distance, de l’énergie, ou du coût!


Don Juan’s Information

Don Juan has agreed to the terms, and he has given us the information that he knows. Since getting the information, the confidence in his value may have diminished slightly, but perhaps you will find it useful.

For Moriarty and Morgan, he explained that he believed their echoes would most likely be in California. He believes that Moriarty took out an apartment in San Francisco for a little while that he eventually left, located in 1472 Filbert St., and that Morgan used to visit it frequently as well. He had an idea that maybe one of their echoes was located at the apartments for the time they spent.

Not the confidence I hoped for.

But, far from being the weak point of his knowledge, at least his was well thought out and had the benefit of time. He recommended that we further search a location in Los Angeles – specifically, the Omni Hotel, on 251 S Olive St. This was the location for a… let us say, eventful meeting between all the Cabal members.

As for LeRoux, Don Juan again believes that the Phantoms echo is in New York, and knew of at least one clue to suggest its location: a tabloid article that indicated the Phantom’s activity in Central Park, along with the knowledge that the Phantom had engaged in these vigilante activities. He gave us a copy, which we showed below.

My only recommendation is that you go forth immediately and see if you can find anything at these locations, and start to prepare refictionalization materials. If he has truly given us what we want, jubilations. Otherwise…

As for the other conditions, Jack Vincent has called his family and he has made arrangements for transportation. Don Juan has also given us the painting in fair condition and we have shipped it to the Denver Art Museum. We included a note with our contact information so that we will know immediately when the painting has returned.

We will have to wait and see what else will come of Don Juan.


Our Decision

Dear Readers;

This afternoon, Poirot and I have come had a difficult talk, and after considerable confrontation we have come an agreement. We want the information from Don Juan; we want it to be true; we want as much of it as possible; and we want it as soon as possible. However, Poirot and I both have concerns about the character of Don Juan, and we would be most regretful to give mercy to a character that did not deserve it. So we have determined a scenario to make sure that Don Juan will tell us as much as he knows, or otherwise suffer for it, though we will require your help, and we will be most grateful for it.

First, we ask that you create mateials that would allow us to refictionalize Don Juan as soon as possible. This may seem unnecessary, since we do not intend to use it, but this is essential. You see, we are going to demand Don Juan’s full cooperation; we wish his painting to be returned to the museum in Denver; we wish for Jack Vincent to return to his wife and children in Boulder, Colorado; and most pertinently, we wish for as much of the location of the three other other echoes. So until he gives this infomation he will remain in our custody. It will be in his favor ultimately to give us as much information about the echoes as possible so that you will be able to find it faster, and for him to provide any information that could be asked of him. And if he so much as makes a misstep, gives any wrong information, or does something uncooperative such as attempt to escape, I will hand him over to Poirot and let him do what he wished in the first place.

We hope this arrangement is to your liking. We will bring the message to him shortly.


Don Juan est capturé!


Permettez-moi de me presenter encore. I am Hercule Poirot, detective of literary fame; many of you I have already spoken to before, but to the rest of you, c’est un plaisir!

Now, with the polite expressions out of the way, let us move forward with the important news: Don Juan is captured! And I was the one to act upon it!

I will admit, I have been frustrated with Holmes in this long wait for our move (and, indeed, I still am – but more on that later); he has been keen to hesitate, contemplate the best course of action, whether it be to capture Don Juan and send him to jail, or to approach him with an interest of compromise for information. To me, I must say, there was NO choice; perhaps if Sherlock Holmes were strung up by the boots and hung in a utility closet in the museum, he would be less open to mercy and more keen to proper justice!

But I digress; we spent the time trying to, as you say, rehabilitate Jack Vincent, and through our humble efforts he has recovered somewhat from his former infatuation in duress with Don Juan. He gave us the right information to, as you say, meet Don Juan and his new wife, Melissa Glaser. Holmes wished as compromise that he be allowed to meet Melissa Glaser and understand Don Juan from her perspective, and if his character had any sign that it could not be reconciled, we would send him off to jail. Out of a great deal of tolerance, I accepted the deal, and I waited idly by as I saw Holmes go into the Juan-Glaser residence to meet Don Juan.

But who should show up while they are meeting with each other? Don Juan himself! Luckily I obscured my face so that he would not see me, then, knowing he would likely try to run upon seeing Holmes, I set up a quick… I believe the phrase is trip wire with some string on the posts of the stairs to the front porch of the house. And, as you say, like clockwork, Don Juan came running out, and I snuck behind the porch. He tripped all the way onto his face and with the chance I tackled him with my full gerth! (and a substantial gerth, I might add; I am man of appetites!)

Holmes caught up with me, and we apprehended and secured the criminal. Yet Don Juan tempts us with promises of kindness and cooperation. Finally, when he said that he could give us the location of all the Cabal ‘echoes’ if we released him, this made Holmes interested enough to tell me that we should wait and think over our options. Pourquoi? Why do you insist on making this longer than this needs to be? Let us say that he even knows where these ‘echoes’ are, or have been. This man is a criminal, he broke the law, and he must pay for his crime. Even Holmes’ ‘fans’ acknowledge it!

We will continue to update you when we have made our decision; in the meantime I could use your input once again.


Jack Vincent Found (?!)

For your information, I would wish you to know that I have discovered the location of Jack Vincent, the missing restoration painter whose disappearance caused all the kerfuffle. In fact, Poirot and I have taken possession of him, and he is under our complete supervision. This was why I went to Denver, and from Denver to Austin and teamed up with Poirot in the after all.

So what, you might ask, is the problem?

Perhaps you might wish to know that in our investigation of the location of Don Juan we were being followed by some figure who was apparently amateurish in his method of disguise. When we had the opportunity we managed to isolate him and take him into our custody in order to interrogate him about who he was and what he wished from us. Only who was our follower?

None other – Jack Vincent!

And if you thought perhaps this was some misunderstanding, that perhaps this was a different Mr. Vincent or that he simply wished to speak with us, I’ll have you know that in the interrogation he confirmed himself to be the Jack Vincent we were looking for, and that despite this he had no intention of cooperating with us so that we could send him back home to his wife and family. He confirmed this with a good description of some detail that led us to identify him as the man in question. And furthermore, when we asked why he was following us, he said he was doing it for the protection of Mr. Don Juan!

I ponder how this must have happened; could it have been that Mr. Vincent was a confidante the entire time? That he had conspired in this for the entirety? Surely that could be the only logical answer!

Except it was very clear that Mr. Vincent had in the process of his disappearance had developed some psychoses. By his account, he was apprehended and kidnapped by Don Juan, as Poirot and I were to expect. However, in being held captive by Don Juan, and being shown considerable kindness and impressed by his ‘wit and charm’ (his words) that he became quickly sympathetic to the man. Then, when hearing that Don Juan was keen to marry his love interest in Melissa, Mr. Vincent was keen to help, initiating a relationship best described as ‘willing subordination’.

It’s hard to fathom the psychoanalysis of a man who is mad if capably so, but that is another matter. What is most pressing to me is the crossroads that I face ahead.

You see, I have managed to obtain the location of Don Juan, if I wished to proceed against him. But by one conception my motivation to do so is to find what is already found, Jack Vincent (again, under surveillance). On the other hand, I could proceed against Don Juan, if I decide that although Vincent’s detention from his wife was largely willing, I still must seek some justice against him. This could either be jail, or re-fictionalization, if I were provided the right materials to do so within a week.

There is, however, a third consideration; for I may meet with Don Juan and as it were, earn his cooperation. That is, a life lived tranquilly in this world, where he may live out his days with his new wife Melissa (assuming they may overcome their marital problems). Yet for this prize I will demand from him nothing less than his full cooperation. I see the demands as so:

1) Command that the servantile Jack Vincent to return to his family, with compensation to them for the troubles he has laid on them.

2) Return of the true “Portrait of the Magnificent Don Juan” to the Denver Art Museum, anonymously if need be.

3) Most importantly, give us the location of the Cabal members.

I stand at a crossroads because I must decide between closing the case before me with integrity, or perhaps even conspiring with the unsavory that I may achieve a greater prize. I will leave your world soon, but in doing so I will leave a legacy, and I must consider what that legacy shall be. For this, I ask for your swift input.

Sherlock Holmes

P.S. I hear that my old friend – the other Don – Don Quixote is healing from yet… another tragic incident on his life. But I hear it will be last, for which I am glad.

I wish him well, whatever his next adventure is.

The Solution to the Verhaeren Murder; the Truth Emerges

I am aware that Poirot has told you that I was silent the day before; I wish you to know that there is no cause for concern; rather for my silence, we know have cause for satisfaction.

Ever since James emerged with his contribution for the murder of Les Okokogwu, I was in aware in the back of my mind that I hadn’t figured out the first true case I was hired to solve, which is cause for embarrassment. I was so busy with the case of the painting that I hadn’t the proper time to give it my full method, but yesterday I gave myself the time to think; and think I did.

I know how Pieter Verhaeren was killed.

I despise myself for not realizing it before; the details were before but I was so unnerved coming to this new time that I failed to take note of the *trifles* I had so spoken to Watson of. Convinced by my employer so of the guilt of Poirot, that I was willing to neglect how unlikely it was that Poirot could have done so. For even if the testimony of the receptionist was true, if Poirot was false to me, if Verhaeren had gone up to his room, Poirot had murdered the man and used two and a half hours to remove the body, Poirot *still* would have had to drag the body all the way down to the furnace room, publicly. For him to have chosen to do so would have been an act of obscene boldness, and to have succeeded, nothing short of miraculous. He would have at least had to know that the receptionist would be unaware from sleep – but how could he have known such a thing? Did he conspire with someone in the hotel to drug her? Even so, with an assumption of conspiracy, he could not have possibly known that the hotel would not have some witness; and considering the care with which this murder was taken, such an act of boldness seems impossible. Furhter, what is true for Poirot is true for anyone; nobody could have murdered Verhaeren in such a way if Verhaeren had gone up to his room, per the promise of Poirot. There is only one solution to this problem, as strange as it may seem.

Verhaeren had gone down to the furnace room by his own volition!

What? you may ask; why would he have done so. Indeed, I could scaracely fathom it, in its improbability. But once I have eliminated the impossibile, the improbable that remains must be true by the principle of my method. And upon realizing this, what happened at the hotel began to unravel.

You’ll remember that Verhaeren had approached the sleeping receptionist and woke her to ask what time it was. A strange act, I thought, but little to think of – until I discovered he had gone to the boiler room by his own voilition. If his intention was truly to know the time, he should have had his own device to read it by. But even if he didn’t, to think that he would have gone out of his way to wake a sleeping receptionist, before taking a brief look around himself, would have been uncanny. Indeed, he didn’t want to observe the time himself; he wanted the receptionist to observe the time. But why would he have done so? Then, I posited that Pieter was unwittingly a co-conspirator in his own murder; his act to tell the receptionist to look at the time was merely a ploy for his murderer to use the time as a way of implicating Mr. Poirot.

As you’ll remember, the receptionist’s testimony, upon observing the clock, indicated that Poirot had two and some hours to commit the murder and dispose of the body, but by Poirot’s account he stayed at the hotel no more than three quarters of an hour. The focus on the clock was merely a way to make Poirot’s guilt seem plausible; and with the information before, with the revelation of Poirot’s innocence the clock seems to have been tampered in order that the murder had taken place. And, indeed, tampering with the clock was practical, given that it was being renovated.

But then again, only one person would have had the opportunity to change the clock. Observe that it was also the same man who had an opportunity to get close enough to the receptionist to drug her, that it was the same man who had the right placement to commit awaken the receptionist when he needed her to observe the clock again and witness Poirot enter and leave the hotel.

The clock’s restoration artist!

Consider this: a murderer had called Pieter Verhaeren and told him that he had an opportunity to enact revenge on Poirot (or Saint-Jerome, as he was then). What Pieter had to do was call Poirot and ask him over to the hotel that day at just the right time; then, not ten minutes before, Verhaeren would enter, ask the receptionist what time it was as a signal to the ‘conspirator’, and then, instead of going up to his room, going down to the furnace room instead, where he would rendezvous with the conspirator in the next step in a plot against Poirot. Meanwhile the murderer had refashioned himself as a restoration artist, and used the large early part of the day to flirt with the receptionist, get close to her, and drug her lunch. The receptionist fell asleep, and the restoration artist had the opportunity to change the clock back a little more than an hour and a half the actual time; then he prepared for the murder. Verhaeren enters, and awakens the receptionist to do as he was instructed; she gave him the wrong time, and noticed it herself. He thanked her and moved to the stairs – but not to his room; rather to the furnace. Ten minutes later, Poirot enters and asks the receptionist where Verhaeren’s room is, and she obligingly tells him. He then moves up to the room, which is empty.

Meanwhile, the restoration artist takes off his trade uniform and moves down to the boiler room. Verhaeren meets the conspirator face to face for the first time, and for his final act; for the artist murdered Verhaeren. But with little time, he washed his face and hands, and covered his bloodstained clothes with his uniform again. He goes back upstairs, changes the clock back to the normal time, and waits for Poirot to leave in frustration – which he does, forty minutes later. Then, when Poirot is about to leave, the restoration artist contrives an noise, an accident perhaps, to wake the receptionist up, just in time for her to see Poirot walk out the door, late in the afternoon around 4:30pm. Then, the restoration artist goes back down to the furnace remove, prepares the body in the appropriate sizes to fit, and places the parts in the furnace. How he did this without such a ghastly mess I do not know; however, I believe perhaps he laid down some plastic wrap per the renovation, used it to cover up the murder, and was able to move it in and out discretely in a large trade canvas bag. With a bloody shirt covered by his uniform, and the bloody plastic hidden in the bag, he left calmly that day, with a smirk on his face, waiting for the true horror to come to the knowledge of everyone else.

What is perhaps most frightening is that this crime could have been committed by one person and one person only; and that this crime was made with such effort to implicate Poirot, and further that it seems to have been committed by a man either unknown or trusted by Verhaeren, that only one motive seems truly fallible: to frame Poirot, and put me on the case to investigate him.

To see it so matched with Poirot, that I too seem to have been framed for a murder that Poirot was put on the case of, makes clear that this is the act of no ordinary person, but a man who had malice and fear of Poirot and I. And I believe we all know who that person is.

And if it is so, that this same person now is associated with and/or leads an organization whose members are dedicated to establishing their validity as peace-loving fictional characters living in the non-fictional world, I trust they will be most dissatisfied to hear the truth of their associate is a vile man, willing to lie, cheat and murder the innocent* for his own purpose. And to those who distrust him, you will be satisfied to know your distrust was not in vain.

Now onto find this Don Juan.

Sherlock Holmes

*It is true that Pieter Verhaeren, as a cruel conniving politician, is not the form of an innocent man. However, no act deserves a most unusual, violent death beyond jurisdiciton of the law. Justice must be served.

Return of James

It’s me again!

First of all, Hugh (like old times), let me just say I’m glad to see you’re safe and that you’ve kept yourself busy. I wish I could speak to you personally so I could hear more of your exploits than you write on your blog, but alas! I will have to keep with only what you tell me.

Second of all, I want to reassure that I am doing well, and that I am safe. You should know that your involvement in the Leslie Okogwu murder was resolved by DNA evidence linking the murder to someone else, and my connection to you, once grounds for investigation, no longer makes it viable. However, since you have been away, I have done my best to do some sleuthing (surely not as good as you, though) so I could figure out, if it wasn’t you, who killed Leslie Okogwu and why. For a while I had no leads, until two days ago when – by an incredible stroke of luck – I stumbled upon someone who reminds me of a sort of knobhead version of you. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he stumbled onto me, or that his wardrobe stumbled onto my foot, but likewise it is perfectly accurate to say, he is a knobhead.

But onto the dire matter at hand: speaking of knobheads, this man was on route to deliver a rather dull wardrobe with unmatching doorknob – and one of them struck my immediate interest. You see, I remembered even after these weeks that Les was bludgeoned the use of a blunt ornate object that greatly resembled the particular make of your cane, a cane which, my research has revealed, replicates a Victorian orb cane or knob cane. I’m sure you can already tell where this was going, but I must go on: the door knob of the wardrobe matched, almost exactly, the style of your cane’s head, only older and tarnished over. And to make matters more interesting, the doorknob fell of the door because it was not secured with a screw but rather was adhered on with glue!

Taking the clue I immediately asked where he got this wardrobe, and he led me to the old lady he was delivering it to, which led me to, of all people, my old Aunt Claire! Of course, we had a quick recap about this Belgian person who was staying with her (and with whom you are apparently well acquainted) but I immediately moved to the subject of the wardrobe and exactly where she got it. She related to me that she got it from some nice gentleman who came to the old community centre where the nan went with other pensioners to play bingo and bridge – he only came twice, and by the second time he apparently had to leave for the States and needed to give his larger items away. She obligingly took the wardrobe from him, even though she regarded it as rather ugly.

Claire indicated that she didn’t remember much, but I pressed her on.Finally she relented that the only other thing that she remembered about the man was his insistence on getting her to play a game of chess. Claire agreed, since she fancied herself a good chess player though she hadn’t played for years. She played white, and he black; she did not remember the details except that the a game was incredibly short, and the beginning was superficially dull, and despite his (rather attractive) confidence they appeared tied. Then he said something about how “sometimes the best way to win a game of chess is to appear predictable, uninspired and formulaic, and thus lull your enemy into the same behavior. Then, when the enemy has let down their guard and everything is place, you then do something unexpected.” With this, after appearing on the defensive for most of the game, he suddenly used his black knight to attack the center white pawn. Care to guess what square the second white pawn was located, Holmes? And within no more than four moves all of the sudden, the man pinned and checkmated Claire.

Seems like we’re dealing with something of a chess player, aren’t we?

More importantly, if this cane head ends up being actual head used to kill Les, then the murderer is connected directly to the effort of framing you for this crime, as early as his effort to get you to meet Les; furthermore this vindicates Poirot, since Claire would have recognized this person as Poirot; and finally it implies that this person was trying to set up both you and Poirot! I haven’t figured everything out, but that isn’t bad for an amateur, is it? :)

James Raikes

Poirot Found

Oh nevermind; Poirot has been found and safe, albeit in a precarious situation. Wandering late in the museum I heard a noise coming from a utility closet; I opened it up and I found Poirot – I profess it is true – bound, tied at the boot and hung upside. Slyly he tried to shrug off his dire circumstance, but ultimately he asked for my service, and I obliging liberated him. According to him he must have been knocked out and bound up in such a way, though he never saw who; which begs the question: who bound up Poirot, and more importantly, why?

Further as we spoke to each other we agreed that our cases had become common and that perhaps it would be best for us to work together. Poirot’s complaint was enough to get the painting professionally analyzed for its forgery; we will return to the scene tomorrow to find the results, and if they are as I believe, we will both consult further with the curator and put the pieces together. I only hope that soon it will bring us to Mr. Vincent.


Poirot Missing?

I confess that I am very worried about Hercule Poirot; his research of the audio tape has, though I pain to admit it, apparently revealed a pernicious plot. He came into the museum today and revealed his claim that the painting “Portrait of the Magnificent Don Juan” hanging in the exhibit is in fact a forgery. I asked him about it, and he wished to discuss it more with me personally, once he got some piece of information he was looking for. I was supposed to meet him in the cafe; alas, he did not show up. Where did that damn Belgian go?