INVESTIGATIONS 101
GUIDANCE FROM FIVE OF AGATHA CHRISTIE’S HERCULE POIROT ADVENTURES (March-April 1923)
Gilles Renaud | Ontario Court of Justice (Retired)
INTRODUCTION
The character of Hercule Poirot, Agatha Christie’s great Belgian detective, is well known and famous for his moustache and belief that all crime is solved by use of the “little grey cells”. He was seen at the start of his career as a charming and bon-vivant type of investigator, in stark contrast to Sherlock Holmes’ dark and brooding personality. His sidekick is Captain Hastings, and unlike Dr. Watson, Holmes’ confidant and partner, we often read some slight criticisms by Hercule of Hastings, leading to remarks such as we find in “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)”, “… Poirot is sometimes a little inclined to underestimate my mental capacities…” Nonetheless, together they solved numerous crimes in the context of forty short stories. This article seeks to examine five of the first such adventures, published over a century ago in March and April of 1923, and now in the public domain.
The short stories that I examine are as follows: “The Affair at the Victory Ball” (March 7, 1923); “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim” (March 28, 1923); “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan” (April 4, 1923); “The Plymouth Affairs Case“ (April 4, 1923); and “The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor” (April 18, 1923).
My objective is to provide guidance to investigators based on the writings of Dame Agatha, in the same way that I have examined the works of Shakespeare and of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.[1] As in the prior contributions, my objective is to set out valuable lessons grouped within thematic discussions involving demeanour evidence, human nature, interviewing skills, judgment and professionalism in investigations. In sum, I suggest that modern-day investigators can gain valuable insights from this great fictional investigator as to what to do and what not to do, as well as enjoying several good yarns.
DISCUSSION
Demeanour evidence
Introduction
I have written extensively, and critically, of demeanour evidence in other publications and little is gained by repeating those observations in this article.[2] It will suffice to point to an interesting passage in “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)[3]”: “Although this harangue was uttered in rapid and virulent French, Célestine had interlarded it with a wealth of gesture, and the chambermaid realized at least a part of her meaning. …” In effect, demeanour involves non-verbal communication, let us say the dragging of a finger horizontally across one’s throat, that is expressive and may denote thought, or betray it!
Elements of demeanour
Air
“Poirot shook his head with an air of finality”. See “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)”.
Anger
“Mr. Opalsen was striding up and down angrily…” See “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)”.
- Beaming
“The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (2)” includes this example: “The first sight that met my eyes was Poirot, looking even more diminutive than usual, sandwiched between the Opalsens, beaming in a state of placid satisfaction.”
- Brow
“The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim” includes this phrase: “By common consent we both turned and looked at Poirot. He seemed lost in reflection, his brow knitted, as though with some supreme mental effort. I felt that at last his keen intellect was asserting itself. What would his first words be? …”
- Chin
I have never considered a chin as aggressive, and most references I can think of are to a “glass chin” in boxing, but who am I to argue with Dame Agatha Christie who sold the most English language mystery books for many generations. Thus, she wrote in “The Plymouth Affairs Case (3) “… We were shown into the library, and almost immediately we were joined by a large, stout man, with piercing eyes and an aggressive chin.”
- Contempt
Contempt may be expressed by words, by actions notably by facial expressions, and by a mix, including defamatory writing. In this vein, note “The Plymouth Affairs Case (4)”: “Japp was an old friend of ours, and greeted Poirot with a sort of affectionate contempt.” I dare anyone to explain what that means should you select that expression in a report.
- Double or multiple elements in one second or so
One of the drawbacks in attempting to assess the demeanour of a witness during a police interview is that you may have to note, record, and make sense of two or more “elements” flashing before your eyes at once! In “The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor”, Dame Agatha wrote “He was staring down at her with a puzzled face, then shook his head.” I selected this example as both the actions would appear to require a few seconds each, as opposed to the immediate type of action in terms of a “wink” or “blinking”. Still, these are difficult to assess, and one may watch Paul Newman in the movie “Exodus” when he invites a fellow officer to stare at his eye for a few seconds to demonstrate the nonsense that you can tell information from merely looking at people.
- Eyes
“The Affair at the Victory Ball (1)” includes this phrase: “… his eyes shining with the green light …”
- Face
Here are two useful quotes from “The Affair at the Victory Ball (2)”: “… the detective put the best face he could upon the matter …” and “… with a handsome, dissolute face …”
- Feigning a precise look of expression
“The Affair at the Victory Ball (2)” includes an excellent illustration of a person’s ability to deceive a police officer during an interview: “… the detective put the best face he could upon the matter …” In other words, a huge drawback to demeanour is that one can “fake it”.
- Hand
“The Plymouth Affairs Case (6)” consigns this interesting description of non-verbal testimony: “’It was of the most simple.’ Poirot waved a deprecating hand, then helped himself to more caviar…”
- Indignation
Consider this example from “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (2)”: “Madame arrives, the theft is discovered. The chambermaid demands to be searched, with a good deal of righteous indignation, and leaves the room without a stain on her character. The imitation necklace with which they have provided themselves has been concealed in the French girl’s bed that morning by the chambermaid—a master stroke, ça!”
- Look
“The Plymouth Affairs Case (2)” includes this useful passage: “The connection was not clear to my mind, and I looked inquiringly at Poirot. For answer he took up the newspaper and read aloud …” In other words, this look was a form of effective communication.
- Smile
Consider this excellent example from “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)”: “The door shut behind him. With a smile, half of derision, half of affection, I picked up the coat …” See as well “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim”: “… I looked sidewise at Poirot. He was smiling in his most inscrutable fashion. I felt that, for the moment, it would be quite useless to question him further.”
- Strangers not being able to interpret demeanour as well as family
Quotes such as what follows show the background for this belief. Thus, “The Affair at the Victory Ball (1)” includes the passage, “… his eyes shining with the green light I had learned to recognize so well …” If this is correct, investigators must be more careful than otherwise in drawing any demeanour-based conclusions.
- Surprise
“The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor” records the following: “… But no—you observed Mrs. Maltravers’ face when she caught sight of this young [person]? She was clearly taken aback …” And, if a correct conclusion, what does it mean and is the meaning some objective evidence of a crime or of an attempt to conceal involvement?
- Tears and weeping
In “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)”, we read of the maid “… weeping and wringing her hands” and of acting generally as a distraught and defeated individual, incapable almost of answering questions at first.
Human nature
- “Emotion-free” persons who are grieving, notably servants
“The Plymouth Affairs Case (3)” includes this controversial, to my judgment, conclusion: “Halliday rang the bell, and gave a short order to the footman. A few minutes later Jane Mason entered the room, a respectable, hard-featured woman, as emotionless in the face of tragedy as only a good servant can be.” It is so difficult to judge how emotional a person ought to be in grieving, as we range from stoic to eternally crying. Prosecutions based upon the absence of expected emotion are susceptible of being upset when cultural or other subjective elements are the subject of argument.
In this regard, consider more fully “The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor” which includes Poirot’s sexist and ridiculous observation: “And lastly, although I know that convention decrees that a woman must make a decent pretence of mourning for her husband, I do not care for such heavily-rouged eyelids! …” Every person reacts differently to different stresses; of this I am convinced. My paternal grandmother lost a son in World War II. I am told that notification was by means of a formal attendance by certain Armed Forces officials and I can just imagine her fright when the vehicle came to her home. Let us change the facts and imagine that she received a telegram, something that probably never happened to a lower working-class woman who was a widow with many children. Months later, she receives the same type of visit or another telegram and is informed that my father is “missing in action”. My grandmother then has months to worry night and day over the fate of a second son. Later, she was informed that my father had not been killed but captured. Whether she received the news in person or by telegram, she must have been quite relieved and may have expressed emotion such as joy that would be puzzling to others who did not know of her prior anxiety and would be disturbed at the joy of finding her son in captivity. In brief, if you heard of a person expressing joy over this event, you might understand but you might misunderstand.
One last thought: I recall well an adult witness bursting out in a fit of laughter, in court, when asked by a prosecutor about seeing her mother’s wounds to the chest. Her mother had been hit by a metal bar by her father, which was admitted. The witness had been caught in an emotional whirlpool since the assault and hospitalization of her mother and arrest of her father, as can easily be imagined, and simply laughed while others would have burst out in tears.
- Forgiving those who have harmed us
Several persons will turn the other cheek, if they suffer harm at the hands of a loved one. “The Plymouth Affairs Case (5)” includes language to that effect, corrupted by inexcusable sexist language and totally discredited notions of inequality. Thus, I will only quote what is necessary to make the necessary point:
“Anyway, he must be followed, arrested! But what could be his motive?”
“One hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry is a very good motive for anyone. No, the question to my mind is: why kill her? Why not simply steal the jewels? She would not prosecute.”
“Why not?
“Because she … once loved this man. Therefore, she would suffer her loss in silence. And the Count, who is an extremely good psychologist where [persons] are concerned … would know that perfectly well! On the other hand, if Rupert Carrington killed her, why take the jewels, which would incriminate him fatally?”
In the final analysis, some persons who have been harmed have asked me as a judge not to punish those who made them suffer for a number of reasons, including religious beliefs and the conviction that reintegrative shaming was preferable to prison, etc., but I have no experience concerning victims who have been harmed by loved ones and who asked for leniency.
- General view that police are “flatfoots”
In some quarters, in some periods, a prejudice emerges to the effect that police officers are inept, the so-called “flatfoot” insult. In that respect, “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)” includes a mention by a member of staff that “… The police were well known to be of a stupidity incredible! …” Of course, this insult arose due to the suggestion that perhaps the person being questioned might have been complicit in the crime being investigated.
- Grudges
“The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim” includes this observation of Hercule Poirot, that I neither agree nor disagree with given my limited experience: “You say Lowen had a grudge against Mr. Davenheim. What you mean is that he had once or twice got the better of him. And presumably those transactions were entered into with the view of benefiting himself. In any case you do not as a rule bear a grudge against a man you have got the better of—it is more likely to be the other way about …” [Emphasis added]
- Hide in crowds
Consider this suggestion by Poirot in “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim”: “… ten to one I would never be recognized in a crowd. There is safety in a crowd…” You, as a detective, may follow this advice when searching for fugitives.
- Loyalty of co-criminals
I am not suggesting anything new to police officers who read this article when I suggest that it is difficult often to gather evidence implicating friends and family and that the information you do obtain might not be reliable or credible. Thus, “The Plymouth Affairs Case (5)” includes these remarks: “… He was the one who planned the job, right enough. But Narky won’t squeal on a pal.”
- Memory of quite generous tips and other sensational experiences
“The Plymouth Affairs Case (5)” includes an interesting scene in which a suspect wishes to set up an alibi and thus provides a huge tip to a young person and does other things to fix his memory upon her features and the time. There is no doubt that most of us would recall such an event if we are similarly situated. Thus:
- “Tell me, did she give the paper-boy a shilling for himself?”
- “No, it was half a crown!” Japp recovered his temper and grinned
- “Pretty extravagant, these rich Americans!”
- “And in consequence the boy did not forget her?”
- “Not he. Half-crowns don’t come his way every day. …
Later, we read about the victim, or one who died by suicide, having lost one boot, leading Poirot to comment on the oddity of this fact that I summarize as follows: If one committed suicide by pulling at a rifle’s trigger with a toe, then they would have a shoe removed but after their death, how would they have disposed of their shoe? Who would throw away a shoe prior to committing suicide. As we read, “To shoot himself in the way indicated, he would probably have had to pull the trigger with his toe—or at least so I imagine. Now if [the victim] had been found with one boot off, we should almost certainly have heard of it from some one. An odd detail like that would have been remembered.”
- Prejudice against certain classes due to looks
“The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)” includes this interesting and biased comment: “Monsieur would not stand by and see her falsely accused, while that infamous chambermaid was allowed to go scot-free. She had never liked her—a bold, red-faced thing—a born thief. She had said from the first that she was not honest. …”
- Scoundrel who is polite
Dame Agatha drew an interesting image of a gentleman-burglar along the lines of Arsène Lupin (by author Maurice Leblanc) in “The Plymouth Affairs Case (2) “H’m,” I said. “The Honorable Rupert Carrington is no beauty, by all accounts. He’d pretty well run through his own money on the turf, and I should imagine old man Halliday’s dollars came along in the nick of time. I should say that for a good-looking, well-mannered, utterly unscrupulous young scoundrel, it would be hard to find his match!” Detectives are warned to be careful not to be hoodwinked by this person’s charm or attacked by his evil side.
- Tendency to lie upon being told of investigation for fear truth will not be believed
This is a staple of fiction. I do not know if it happens in real life very often, but it does feature in some of the case law. In this context, note “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim”: “No. But he may have been frightened. Remember, the missing man’s clothes had just been discovered in the lake. Of course, as usual, he would have done better to speak the truth.”
“To Tell You the Truth…” – Don’t you always?
I am puzzled by those who preface or qualify what they are about to say with the words “To tell you the truth …”. This phrase is found in the early pages of “The Affair at the Victory Ball (1)”. Do these people tell the truth only in such circumstances? Do they lie the rest of the time? Detectives must be careful not to allow this type of phrase to slip into their statements or when testifying.
- Vivid clothes to fix the attention of memory of witnesses
In fiction, one often reads of a ploy of one wishing to be identified as being in one place at a precise time, while committing an offence elsewhere, by putting on clothes that are associated with the person sought to be impersonated when they are in the habit of wearing quite remarkable outfits. I recall seeing a fellow wearing a multi-coloured and immense wig in the end-zone of football games broadcast on television holding a sign. You could not help but notice him and to read the sign. In this vein, note what follows from “The Plymouth Affairs Case (6)”:
… But if so, then the maid must be an accomplice. And if she were an accomplice, she would not wish this point to rest on her evidence alone. The clothes Mrs. Carrington was wearing were of a striking nature. A maid usually has a good deal of choice as to what her mistress shall wear. Now if, after Bristol, anyone saw a lady in a bright blue coat and skirt, and a fur toque, he will be quite ready to swear he has seen Mrs. Carrington.
Interviewing suspects, witnesses and victims
- Atmosphere of oppression
Without reviewing the case law, due to limitations of space, it will suffice to say that coercion or an atmosphere of oppression will likely doom the admissibility voir dire regarding any statement received in such circumstances. As we read in “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim”: “… He’s sober enough now, and I don’t mind admitting we pretty well frightened the life out of him, hinting he might be charged with murder. …”
- Avoid trauma to those who speak to police
I suggest that every effort must be made by investigators to obtain needed information in a fashion that is supportive, respectful and seeks to minimize needless secondary harm. A simple illustration is consigned in the short story “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)“ in which Poirot states to a victim of a theft: “Seat yourself, madame, and recount to us the whole history without agitating yourself.”
- Explanations for any potentially unclear responses must be sought
This important lesson is illustrated in “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1): “Excuse me, madame, but what do you mean by ‘as usual?” It is repeated in “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim”: “Be exact, my friend. What do you mean by ‘disappear’? To which class of disappearance are you referring?”
- Instruct witnesses as to what is expected so that they may speak after some reflection
“The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)” includes a helpful illustration of what must be avoided: “’As usual, my friend, you speak without reflection …” By way of contrast, note what is consigned in “The Plymouth Affairs Case (3)”: “Mason considered….” in response to a serious question.
Judgment
- Continuity evidence may be inadequate or non-existent
“The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor” includes this passage: “… “Was he still lying where he had been found?” “Yes, the body had not been touched…” Of course, the police witness or witnesses would then describe how the scene and the remains were protected with documented and contemporary notes. By way of contrast, I know of a case from Ontario where the pathologist conducting an autopsy had shown no interest in ensuring that the body was protected from contamination or interference! The officer in charge testified that they wish they had been more assertive in ensuring the discharge of their precise responsibilities, and would no longer accept such directions.
- “Devil is in the details!”
You must understand that the self-proclaimed greatest detective in the world thinks little of turning over stones and getting dirty in the search for clues. Indeed, it is useful to point out his view in this regard: “By no means. These things are all good in their way. The danger is they may assume undue importance. Most details are insignificant; one or two are vital. It is the brain, the little grey cells”—he tapped his forehead — “on which one must rely. The senses mislead. One must seek the truth within—not without.” See “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim.” For my part, if I am murdered, I will pray from heaven (I hope) that those tasked to solve the crime will not follow Poirot’s example!
- Discrepancies and consistencies
“The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor” includes Poirot’s observation: “A slight discrepancy, that is all! You noticed it? You did not? Still, life is full of discrepancies …” Readers not familiar with the short story must know that the deceased was described as a Christian Scientist in one part and as a regular patient of a GP in another, bringing about a conflict of medical opinion. For our purposes, what matters is that the detectives must be wary of too “pat or perfect a crime scene” or too easily obtained a confession though the offence was carried out with the skill of a professional. In few words, is a clean scene or an easy confession a sign of something amiss? As for discrepancies, their presence may show that the accounts being put forward by two or more witnesses are not rehearsed. Of course, if you wish to deceive, you will include mistakes.
- Experiments
Offers of conducting experiments made by suspects might well be met with the type of answer noted next, as found in “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)” “’You permit, monsieur? A little experiment—purely for my own satisfaction.’ ‘Depends on what it is,’ replied the police officer non-committally.’”
- Hesitations and pauses prior to answering questions
Hercule Poirot’s detective adventure, “The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor”, provides quite detailed information on how to assess the veracity of suspects who are interviewed by the police from the perspective of pauses and hesitations. Of interest, the interview focused on word associations, in the sense of the detective said a word and the interviewee responded.
I will assist you. To begin with, Black answered well within the normal time limit, with no pauses, so we can take it that he himself has no guilty knowledge to conceal. ‘Day’ to ‘Night’ and ‘Place’ to ‘Name’ are normal associations. I began work with ‘Bernard’ which might have suggested the local doctor had he come across him at all. Evidently he had not. After our recent conversation, he gave ‘Dinner’ to my ‘Tuesday,’ but ‘Journey’ and ‘Country’ were answered by ‘Ship’ and ‘Uganda,’ showing clearly that it was his journey abroad that was important to him and not the one which brought him down here. ‘Story’ recalls to him one of the ‘Lion’ stories he told at dinner. I proceed to ‘Rook Rifle’ and he answered with the totally unexpected word ‘Farm.’ When I say ‘Shot,’ he answers at once ‘Suicide.’ The association seems clear. A man he knows committed suicide with a rook rifle on a farm somewhere. Remember, too, that his mind is still on the stories he told at dinner… [Emphasis added]
From my perspective, this is totally unhelpful to investigators and seems nothing but a mish mash of subjective impressions. Drawing precise attention to the issue of hesitations, a detective at the station (as a judge at trial) is entitled to consider how much time it takes to respond to evaluate if a person is searching their mind to come up with a “story” to cover up their wrongful actions or words. The difficulty is that it is quite challenging to say how much time is suitable, as does Poirot early in the underlined passage, and how much time indicates deception. The innocent person wrongly suspected of a crime may well be frozen, so to speak, as to what responses to give when they know nothing about the crime.
In this context, think of the movie, ”The Money Pit” with Tom Hanks, where he is having a house built and no matter what question he asks his contractor, the answer is “two weeks”, whether how long to install the electricity or the time it will take to paint one door! No hesitation in responding does not mean you received a quality response. The baseball player Rudy York was dragged from a burning hotel room in the 1940’s and was told point blank by a firefighter: “You drunk So and So, you fell asleep with a lit cigarette to which the star player responded immediately: “Bull, the bed was on fire when I lay down to sleep!” If no hesitation in responding brings about certain points in your mind as an investigator as no time to invent, how many points are deducted for providing a nonsense answer?
In addition, if the time to respond to a word association type of question is something you wish to experiment with in the future, please view the same type of psychological question and answer cession in the movies “The Dirty Dozen” and “Armageddon”. Entertaining but hardly objective or useful…
- “Inside jobs”
“The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim” provides an interesting comment in this regard: “… seems to put an ordinary burglary out of court, unless, of course, an accomplice within the house …” closed up the means of gaining entry subsequently.
- Jumping to conclusions
Part 3 of “The Plymouth Affairs Case” includes this passage: “According to Jane Mason, at Bristol, Flossie was no longer alone in her carriage. There was a man in it who stood looking out of the farther window so that she could not see his face.” Or, possibly, because that was the seat that corresponded to his ticket, or he wished to avoid her noting his flatulence or some other innocent reason. One must not jump to conclusions.
- Justice will prevail
Consult “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim”: “… You might lose your own memory, but some one would be sure to recognize you—especially in the case of a well-known man like Davenheim. Then ‘bodies’ can’t be made to vanish into thin air. Sooner or later they turn up, concealed in lonely places, or in trunks. Murder will out. … He’s [the criminal] up against civilization.” [Emphasis added] The sad reality is that certain murders, including that of countless women and children, notably from the Furst Nations, and peace officers remain unsolved! “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (3) is of assistance in that it shows Poirot is consistent: “As Hastings says, bodies have a habit of coming to light with fatal persistency.”
- Media accounts, concerns as to their accuracy
“The Affair at the Victory Ball (1)” includes language warning interested readers of the dangers of providing information to media that is not in written form – one cannot modify a press release without being shown to have done so. What you say may well be misunderstood or distorted. Thus, “… the imagination of the journalist is sometimes misleading…” but the situation may be explained by an honest mistake, possibly on the part of the briefing officer who chose an ambiguous word, etc.
- “Motion” in detective work
The passage that follows is interesting for its illustration of two types of detective work, the “officer in motion” versus the “tell me what you found, and I will tell you the guilty party!” As we read in “The Plymouth Affairs Case (4)”:
’That good Inspector believes in matter in motion,’ murmured Poirot as our friend departed. ‘He travels; he measures footprints; he collects mud and cigarette-ash! He is extremely busy! He is zealous beyond words! And if I mentioned psychology to him, do you know what he would do, my friend? He would smile! He would say to himself: ‘Poor old Poirot! He ages! He grows senile!’ Japp is the ‘younger generation knocking on the door.’ And ma foi! They are so busy knocking that they do not notice that the door is open!”
Section 5 includes these remarks: “’Morning, Poirot. Only just got back. I’ve done some good work! And you?’ ‘Me, I have arranged my ideas,’ replied Poirot placidly.”
- Note taking
In my opinion, what is described next is shoddy practice and will backfire on those investigators who mirror this way of doing things. As we read in “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim”: “I was jotting down what occurred to me as the main points of interest in this affair. … ‘You become methodical—at last!’ said Poirot.” There is nothing methodical in sloppy work as police officers must take careful and complete notes of everything that is not clearly irrelevant. A crime scene at night next to a Bingo Hall that has 120 bulbs well light is to be noted, as well as the fact that, let us say, one is burnt out. If you fail to so, you will be asked at trial about the lighting, and your answer will not be supported by any note.
- Open versus cover crime
Consider Poirot’s views on this subject: “… the open way in which he pawned the ring makes it unlikely that he did murder to get it…” See “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim.”
- Reasonable conclusions, always draw
“The Affair at the Victory Ball (1)” includes this phrase: “… And always one must be reasonable …” But what is “being” reasonable? In hundreds of negotiations that I conducted with prosecutors when I was a defence lawyer and later with defence lawyers when I worked as an Assistant Crown Attorney, the other party would say, “Gee, Gilles, be reasonable. Agree with me on this!” It is only when I became a judge that what I suggested during pre-trials was more likely, but not always, viewed as being reasonable.
Later one reads, “If you are thinking of poison, monsieur, who on earth would poison a man first and then stick a knife into him?” Poirot responded: “In truth, that would be ridiculous…” For my part, I see nothing ridiculous in that the stabbing might have been intended to hide the poisoning with a hope to avoid an autopsy thinking that it would be easier to link the murder with the culprit in the case of poison. What matters is not what I think, kin the final analysis, but whether different scenarios are reasonable.
- Reverse the proposition
In drawing coherent conclusions, it is always well to reverse any proposition. For example, the East Germans in Berlin in 1961 claimed that a wall was needed to stop the massive and furtive entry into the Communist heaven by those fleeing democracy and that this would stem the flood! In this kind of situation, investigators would examine the facts and find that the reverse was true. In this context, “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)” includes this passage: “As usual, my friend, you speak without reflection. How do you know that the pearls Mrs. Opalsen locked up so carefully to-night were not the false ones, and that the real robbery did not take place at a much earlier date?” In other words, the victim was the crook, and this was an “inside job” and police must always weigh this reversal angle in their analysis of the case.
Of interest, in “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim”, the offender got himself arrested under a false identity to be in jail while he was pursued, the last place Poirot opined anyone would look for him.
- Saying one thing, meaning another
Consider “The Affair at the Victory Ball (1)”: “… I considered that [Poirot’s] greatest talent lay in the gentle art of seeking favours under the guise of conferring them.
- Searches, on consent
Investigators must be careful when you hear words such as found below: “I’d be glad if the police would search me. I’ve nothing to be afraid of.” This phrase, from “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)” offers you a choice and both might be poor options. On the one hand, if you accept the invitation, nothing will be found as the person has had the opportunity to dispose of the item sought and only makes the offer well knowing that they are under no jeopardy. On the other, it might be a bluff, but you can only conduct a consent search of a person’s body after an extensive permission is obtained which is troublesome.
- Sexism and other biases are to be rooted out
“The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)” includes this example of what one hopes is a now long rejected perspective on human nature that can only serve to distort judgment during an investigation. “’I comprehend, madame,’ said Poirot soothingly. ‘I comprehend perfectly. To la femme, sentiment is everything—is it not so? But monsieur, who has not the so fine susceptibility, will doubtless find some slight consolation in the fact …’”
- Simple cases – no such thing!
“The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim” includes this suggestion by Hercule Poirot that I offer to real detectives for consideration. “I find it a good sign when a case is obscure. If a thing is clear as daylight— eh bien, mistrust it! Some one has made it so.”
- Speculation
“The Plymouth Affairs Case (3)” includes this interesting quote: “Well sir, I thought it was to do with the gentleman in the carriage. She didn’t speak to him, but she turned round once or twice as though to ask him if she was doing right.” This is not quite pure speculation but one must expect follow-up questions during the interview to ascertain what the gentleman did in response, such as an audible reply.
- Statistical support for your conclusions
The quote that is being highlighted is offered to illustrate how easily we tend to suggest such and such fact, but without bothering to provide any data, assuming any such information exists. Thus, “The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor” includes this phrase:
… sinister rumours as to Mr. Maltravers’ financial position have been in the air of late, and the Northern Union have ascertained beyond any possible doubt that the deceased gentleman stood upon the verge of bankruptcy. Now that alters matters considerably. Maltravers had a beautiful young wife, and it is suggested that he got together all the ready money he could for the purpose of paying the premiums on a life insurance for his wife’s benefit and then committed suicide. Such a thing is not uncommon… [Emphasis added]
For investigators, the lesson is that you must verify if any factual assertions can be established, assuming they are relevant. On the topic of this assumption, whether a statement is worth investigating, consider a very general type of comment found in the late Ken Dryden’s great book, Game Change The Life and death of Steve Montador and the Future of Hockey, Signal, Toronto, 2017, at pages 43-44: “… his son, Dan, was on the team – a good kid and, unlike many coaches’ sons, a good player as well.” How may one ever prove this statement and, if it was susceptible of proof, how would it matter in an investigation?
- Strong views on a precise subject
At times, one may deduce that fact “x” or “y” is totally consistent with or totally inconsistent with information collected about the case. A simple example will illustrate my thinking. Suppose the presumed knife wielding robber was described as wearing a Montreal Canadiens jersey and toque, and that all witnesses and social media information unanimously suggests that the suspect’s love for the Maple Leafs would make this totally impossible! What do you make of this? Detectives who look at both sides of the issue would begin by thinking: what better way to deflect future police scrutiny but to adopt a mode of dress totally foreign to the offender? Or, looking at the other end of the spectrum, people do wear the jersey of their despised rivals, as when they lose a bet about a playoff series, so that this is not impossible, and the robbery took place coincidentally at that time…
In few words, consider everything and do not adopt an inflexible approach that a person would never do such and such a thing. “The Affair at the Victory Ball (1)” includes language that is interesting but not suggesting an invariable response: “He held unusually strong views on the subject of dope.” Think of those friends of yours who used to mock tattoos and who now sport a “full sleeve”.
- Thieves do not murder?
Poirot stated in “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim”: “… your sneak thief is rarely a murderer…” My 43 years of viewing trials from many vantage points suggests that this staement is not true.
“Who benefits by the death?”
This is the question found in “The Affair at the Victory Ball (1)” and represents a staple of detective stories as well as the related question: “Cherchez la personne qu’elle (ou il) aime?” [Who was the love interest?]
Professionalism
- Blaming the medical profession for lack of evidence of foul play
The quote that follows makes plain a tendency in fiction to deflect blame for unpopular results after investigations. As we read in “The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor”: “… If the cause of the death had been heart failure, I should have been more sanguine. Heart failure may always be translated as the inability of the local G.P. to discover what his patient really did die of …” This type of confrontation was present of late as the Goudge Inquiry on Pediatric Forensic Pathology noted in Volume 3, Chapter 17, devoted to police interaction with coroners, pathologists and prosecutors, that there was at times “conclusion conflict”, my expression not the Commissioner’s. By this I mean that pathologists would report to the police that there was no medical information that was so clear cut as to explain what caused death such as trauma or petechial haemorrhage due to violent shaking in the case of babies, and thus no support for a prosecution was found in the autopsy report. By way of contrast, the Coroner’s Office might be informed of a confession of guilt by the suspect, leading that office to propose that the police charge the person investigated with murder.
- Method
“The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim” includes this interesting passage:
“Mon ami,” said Poirot, “you make one error. You do not allow for the fact that a man who had decided to make away with another man—or with himself in a figurative sense—might be that rare machine, a man of method. He might bring intelligence, talent, a careful calculation of detail to the task; and then I do not see why he should not be successful in baffling the police force.”
One hopes that the modern and sophisticated methods that police forces deploy to solve crimes will make such successes rare. In any event, we then read again in “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim”: “It is true that I approach such problems with an exact science, a mathematical precision, which seems, alas, only too rare in the new generation of detectives!” Later, in the same short story, we read “’I do not see,’ [in the sense of go out and observe the crime scene] murmured Poirot. ‘I shut my eyes—and think.’” Note as well “The Affair at the Victory Ball (1)”: “Poirot had a good opinion of [Scotland Yard’s Inspector] Japp’s abilities, though deploring his lamentable lack of method …” whatever that means… In my experience of folding laundry, and of dealing cards, et ainsi de suite, going back to my early childhood, if I do things differently from others, it is wrong…
- Modesty
Police officers must remain modest as the old sayings appear true, that “Pride cometh before the fall!” and that “When the Gods seek to destroy us, first they make us proud!” In this context, reference to a comic detective is not uncalled for: “Poirot endeavoured, with a marked lack of success, to look modest…” See “The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim.”
- Notebook to consign notes immediately
I appreciate that you are taught that notes ought to be consigned immediately upon witnessing the event or receiving information, or shortly thereafter. I wish that you were taught that there is no justification for not entering information immediately – why risk a less than perfect recall by reason of some intervening tasks that should be delayed? Your phones and the command centre recording equipment are to be resorted to if this will result in full notes faster.
And I urge you to always write down at what time and what second you began to write the notes and where, and what delays were encountered and for what reasons. Two examples found in “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (1)”, are instructive: “The inspector had been busy with his notebook…” And, as swell, “At the conclusion of the second performance, he made a note …” Perhaps, in the second example, it would have been wiser to make a note as soon as the event occurred or words were spoken, to avoid any possible mistake later.
Sparing victim from reliving their ordeal
This is always a fundamental concern in the criminal justice system, at all levels from the initial receipt of a complaint or information to the Parole Board hearing. That core philosophy is expressed in “The Affair at the Victory Ball (3)” as follows: “… What is it you want to ask me? Must I really go over all that dreadful evening again?”
- Suggesting that the medical evidence is incorrect
“The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor” includes the following information: “But, if my memory is not at fault, in the case of a recent murder, the doctor first gave a verdict of heart failure—altering it when the local constable pointed out that there was a bullet wound through the head!” In this context, I can inform the readers that a few police witnesses have testified in an inquiry that they had not thought it within their mandate to contradict certain findings by a pathologist that was contrary to what they had provided by way of background information. It is for the medical expert, of course, to opine as to the findings of a projectile within the brain together with “fresh” shrapnel but it is for the detective to note that the pathologist ignored the briefing notes that indicated World War II injuries to the same area of the brain, notably 70-year-old metal from a grenade.
- Tricking the suspect
One does not appear to require a warrant to “trick” a suspect by means of simple, day to day events. For example, if a ball cap is found at the scene of a crime and a witness agrees to attend at the station in response to a canvas for information from the neighbours, one may leave the cap in plain sight and wait to see who might retrieve it. That said, when physical evidence is sought, different considerations arise. Thus, it not lawful to emulate Poirot’s trick as set out in “The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan (2)”:
…The card was one with a specially prepared surface—for finger-prints. I went straight to Scotland Yard, asked for our old friend Inspector Japp, and laid the facts before him. As I had suspected, the finger-prints proved to be those of two well-known jewel thieves who have been ‘wanted’ for some time. …
- “Une belle affaire” – [What a great case!]
One must be cautious to never express any sentiment along these lines that will inevitably be understood, as well it should, by the public and by victims as satisfaction that someone’s tragedy is presenting a real challenge. In this context, “Poirot states in “The Affair at the Victory Ball (1)” “… ‘Une belle affaire!’ with the relish of the specialist.”
[1] Interested readers may consult the Index of my contributions in Mack’s Criminal Law and as well in Blue Line.
[2] Refer to Gilles Renaud, Demeanour Evidence on Trial: A Legal and Literary Criticism, Sandstone Academic Press, Melbourne, Australia, 2008.
[3] The inclusion of a number refers to a Part of the short story as noted by the author and is included for ease of cross-reference.