The King of Clubs: A Hercule Poirot Short Story

‘The first story is, of course, nonsense,’ said the young man. ‘But the second is true. Valerie, though bound to secrecy, has let me guess as much. Besides, she proves it unconsciously in a thousand ways. I believe in heredity, M. Poirot.’

‘I too believe in heredity,’ said Poirot thoughtfully. ‘I have seen some strange things in connection with it – moi qui vous parle … But to business, M. le Prince. What do you want of me? What do you fear? I may speak freely, may I not? Is there anything to connect Mademoiselle Saintclair with the crime? She knew Reedburn of course?’

‘Yes. He professed to be in love with her.’

‘And she?’

‘She would have nothing to say to him.’

Poirot looked at him keenly. ‘Had she any reason to fear him?’

The young man hesitated. ‘There was an incident. You know Zara, the clairvoyant?’

‘No.’

‘She is wonderful. You should consult her some time. Valerie and I went to see her last week. She read the cards for us. She spoke to Valerie of trouble – of gathering clouds; then she turned up the last card – the covering card, they call it. It was the king of clubs. She said to Valerie: “Beware. There is a man who holds you in his power. You fear him – you are in great danger through him. You know whom I mean?” Valerie was white to the lips. She nodded and said: “Yes, yes, I know.” Shortly afterwards we left. Zara’s last words to Valerie were: “Beware of the king of clubs. Danger threatens you!” I questioned Valerie. She would tell me nothing – assured me that all was well. But now, after last night, I am more sure than ever that in the king of clubs Valerie saw Reedburn, and that he was the man she feared.’