And so we come to episode #3, The Adventure of Johnnie Waverly. And here I thought that intentionally misspelling your kid's name was a recent phenomenon.
For the record, this entire episode can bite me.
We open with an annoyingly cute little boy playing. Since I am completely immune to the charms of children, this does not bode well for my enjoyment of the episode. The boy is playing outside a huge, freaking house. Actually, "house" is probably not the right word; you'd have to go with "manor" or "estate". Anyway, it's probably bigger than my highschool. Inside, in a luxuriously appointed room, a man and a woman are discussing a letter that's demanding 50 000 pounds. Apparently, there have been several letters, with the amount to be paid going up with each one. The woman is quite distressed, while the man appears outraged.
Man: Damn it all, Ada, this is England. People don't go around kidnapping children!
I...am speechless.
The guy grabs the letter and storms off, while the woman goes outside to see the little blonde boy, who, it should be noted, is already under the supervision of a nurse. The kid really is cute. And that really does annoy me.
We then switch to Poirot in his office. He goes to remind Miss Lemon that his tisane (gag) needs to be served promptly at 11am. Miss Lemon is in the middle of organizing and cross-referencing all of his files. It appears that she does, after all, share book Lemon's obsession with the perfect filing system.
We then see the "this is England!" fellow arrive at Poirot's office where he is introduced as Mr. Waverly. He shows Poirot the letter from earlier, which turns out to be a ransom note...sort of. Apparently whoever wrote it hasn't really grasped the concept of kidnapping for ransom, because he's asking for the money before actually abducting anyone. Apparently the earlier letters demanded that Mr. Waverly pay money or his son would be taken. This letter says that since he has not paid, his son will be kidnapped at noon the next day and it will cost 50 000 pounds to get him back. Wow, the letter writer really doesn't understand kidnapping; you're not supposed to give away when the abduction will take place! Why doesn't he just say, "I'll be the guy in the trenchcoat lurking in the bushes"? Mr. Waverly's reaction to the whole thing?
Mr. Waverly: Damned impertinence.
Um...okay...
At this point, Hastings arrives and Poirot explains to him that someone is threatening to kidnap Mr. Waverly's son.
Hastings: Really? In England?
And...that should be a Shut the fuck up, Hastings moment, but it's so funny and well-delivered that I'll let it pass.
Hastings: Could be some band of foreigners, you know. Some gang.
Okay, that one I won't let pass. SHUT THE FUCK UP, HASTINGS!
Poirot seems a might taken aback by that comment as well and points out that there is no indication the letters were written by a foreigner. There's no indication they were written by an idiot either, which I suppose lets Hastings off the hook.
This is, in fact, the first glimpse we have in the tv series of something that was made very clear in the books: English people in the early 20th century were remarkably xenophobic. Actually, I suppose the first glimpse we got of it was back in The Adventure of the Clapham Cook when Annie suggested that Miss Dunn might have been abducted by white slavers, but Annie was clearly such a moron that it was easy to dismiss that prejudice as just personal stupidity. I can't recall off the top of my head how often this is going to come up in the series, but I can assure you it comes up constantly in the books and Poirot is quite often the target of it. In fact, in one book, he actually gets indicted for murder simply for having been in the vicinity when it occurred and for being foreign. On other occasions, he actually uses this prejudice to his advantage, allowing his quarry to underestimate him or dismiss him entirely.
At any rate, Poirot considers the letters to be a credible threat and asks Mr. Waverly if he has any enemies. Waverly can't think of a single one, though I'm willing to be that every non-English person he has ever met has found him a trifle annoying. Poirot decides that he should take on the case and informs Hastings that it is time to pay a visit to "the intrepid Chief Inspector Japp."
Poirot announces that he will take the next train to...wherever it is Waverly lives. I wasn't paying attention. Hastings offers to drive him down, but Poirot declines, preferring to meet him there.
Huh, I think I may have discovered the cause of Poirot's love affair with trains: if the alternative was getting into a car driven by Hastings, I'd spend my life travelling by rail too. Actually, I'd probably just throw myself onto the tracks and have done with it.
On the way to the train station, Poirot and Waverly stop off to see Japp, who is less than helpful. He points out that he doesn't have the manpower to investigate every threatening letter that's brought to his attention. Waverly deems the visit a waste of time, which is true enough, but then he lays into Japp, actually using the whole "my taxes pay your salary" bit, which I guess is an older complaint than I would have imagined. Just for the record, I'd like to point out that Japp also pays taxes so he is, in effect, paying his own salary. And if I seem just a little sensitive on this issue, it's because I'm also in a profession that gets this ridiculous accusation thrown at it and it's annoying as hell.
In the end, Japp pretty much tells Waverly to piss off and Waverly does so, though not without promising to have a talk with Japp's superior.
Japp: I hope he enjoys it as much as I have.
On the train, Waverly calls Japp a fool, but Poirot defends his friend, pointing out that it's difficult for the police to do anything before a crime has actually been committed. Actually, I'm pretty sure that sending threatening letters is a crime and seeing as how these particular letters were threatening a child, it does seem as though Japp could have taken them a bit more seriously. After all, how much manpower does it take to try to catch someone who's already told you exactly when he plans to strike? I like Japp, but he really is an idiot sometimes.
Waverly and Poirot eventually arrive at the ridiculously large home seen earlier. Waverly explains that it's "the new house" having only been built in 1760. He started renovating it five years earlier, but hasn't been able to finish. It's also revealed that most of the surrounding land used to belong to the Waverlys.
Waverly: As far as you could see from the roof. But not anymore.
My heart bleeds. Really.
Inside, they meet up with Waverly's wife, Ada, and Hastings. Ada is clearly concerned, but Hastings dismisses the letters as the works of a crank. Really, Hastings? I thought it was a gang of foreigners. Make up your mind, Hastings. And then shut the fuck up. Because nobody cares what you think.
Back outside, Poirot comments to Hastings that kidnapping is generally an easy crime, and he wonders why the kidnapper should choose to make it harder by sending the Waverlys a warning.
At dinner that night, Poirot is pontificating on about how all crimes are fascinating because they all hinge on the character of the participants. Ada Waverly is clearly distressed and points out that's it's a little difficult to participate in small talk when her son might be kidnapped the next day. Yeah, I'm kind of with her on that one. Poirot's smart, but he can be a pompous little shit when he puts his mind to it. Young Johnnie Waverly comes in to say goodnight to everyone and shows Hastings his toy car.
Hastings: I say, that's rather fine.
Just so you know, Hastings has been going on all episode about his car and some race he intends to enter. I haven't mentioned it because it's to do with Hastings and therefore boring.
Poirot: You see, Hastings, a fellow enthusiast.
Personally, I think Hastings is just glad to have found someone of a similar maturity level.
Thankfully, for those of us who are not child enthusiasts, young Johnnie quickly leaves. Naturally, his mother breaks down and Poirot reassures her that when the time for the kidnapping comes, Johnnie will be surrounded by people looking out for his safety.
Yeah, I'll take the odds on that one.
In the middle of the night, Poirot hears noise and upon going into the hall to investigate, discovers that Mrs. Waverly has been taken ill. Well, that's one less person who'll be watching over Johnnie on the morrow.
The next morning, Poirot joins Hastings for the buffet-style English breakfast. Unfortunately, Poirot finds the offerings a bit lacking. Hastings agrees and points out that dinner the night before wasn't much to write home about and the fire wasn't lit in his room. He wonders if the Waverlys might not be having financial difficulties. Huh, Hastings is making reasonable deductions. Things are serious.
Waverly joins them, after yelling at his staff for a bit. It turns out that he's received another letter and this one he found pinned to his pillow.
Pinned. To. His. Pillow.
sigh
Are we--the viewers--seriously not supposed to have figured it out by now?
Anyway, now that we totally know who's responsible for the letters, Poirot takes a look at this most recent one. It's to the point, containing only three words: At twelve o'clock.
Waverly asserts that the villain must be among his staff. And so he's going to fire them. All of them. Unless one of them owns up.
Say it with me everyone: ASS. HOLE.
Even Poirot and Hastings look a little bit shocked at this action.
Actually, Waverly isn't quite going to fire everybody. He figures the butler and his wife's secretary are both above reproach and can stay.
double sigh
Look, dude, if you're going to be a total asshole, at least commit to it. Firing your entire staff on suspicion alone only works if you fire the entire staff. Everyone knows that if you let one person stay because of loyalty or affection or what have you, that person will inevitably turn out to be the culprit. And you're letting two people stay. It's almost like you want your son to be kidnapped. Or you're looking for an excuse to fire your staff. Or, you know, both.
Poirot tries to get Waverly to reconsider, pointing out that the emptier the house is, the easier it will be for the kidnapper to grab the boy. Waverly, of course, having hired Poirot to keep his son from being kidnapped, doesn't bother to listen to a word the detective has to say.
Oh, that pain you're feeling? That's the episode whacking you over the head with the solution.
Stepping outside, Poirot and Hastings witness a most surprising sight: a police vehicle pulling up to the house. It's Japp with an absolute bevy of uniformed police officers. Poirot expresses his surprise at Japp's change of heart.
Japp: I don't want to see some poor amateur get himself in a fix.
SHUT THE FUCK UP, JAPP!
Seriously, don't mouth off to your intellectual betters.
We then cut to Waverly laying into his staff, a scene I rather wish they had spared us. You know, I'm REALLY starting to hate this guy. We do at least get to see one of the servants--Johnnie's nurse, I think--take umbrage at this shoddy treatment, but in the end, it's for naught as Waverly dismisses her and puts Johnnie's care into the hands of his wife's secretary, a Miss Collins. (I'm sure that's what she thought she was signing up for when she took the position of secretary.)
At this point, Japp comes in and offers to station officers around the house. And he is way too obsequious for my liking. I rather wonder if his superior did have a discussion with him.
Meanwhile, Poirot and Hastings have taken off in Hastings' car. Poirot urges Hastings to go slowly and Hastings promises not to go over 80 mph. They go to see the chap who was doing the renovations to the Waverly's house...and will be doing them again or so Mr. Waverly keeps claiming. Unfortunately, as the builder reveals, it's Waverly's wife who has the money and she apparently doesn't give a rat's ass about the house. That's rather odd when you think about it, seeing as she has to live there and, more importantly, so does her son. Half finished renovations can be a hazard to small children...as my family could unfortunately testify.
As the police disperse themselves around Waverly manor, Poirot and Hastings stop for breakfast. Complete with a couple of pints.
Poirot: Beer? For breakfast?
Yeah, even my family usually manages to wait until lunch.
The next thing we see is Poirot and Hastings driving back, just a little too....shall we say...happy? Put it this way, they're singing a song that makes "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" sound intellectual and Hastings is all over the road. Then again, this is Hastings. Anyway, I was expecting them to crash into something, but instead the car just...stops. In the middle of the road.
Back at Waverly Manor, Waverly and Japp are discussing where to post guards. Japp gives his opinion that when it comes to the rough stuff, Hastings is more likely to be of use than Poirot. Well, duh, why do you think Poirot keeps Hastings around? It's certainly not for the stimulating conversation!
Back on the road, Hastings is examining the car's engine and gives his opinion that someone must have tampered with it to keep him and Poirot away. That was my theory too, but Poirot doesn't see how anyone could have known they were going to use the car. Well, it damn well better have been tampered with, because otherwise it's just a coincidence and that's lazy writing.
We then switch back to Waverly Manor. (You know, this switching back and forth between the two locations may work well from a storystelling perspective, but it's a bitch and a half to recap!) The clock on the wall shows that it's about twenty to twelve and Johnnie's hanging out with his mom, who's still in bed, but looking much better. Miss Collins is sitting in the room with them. Mr. Waverly comes in to take Johnnie downstairs. Mrs. Waverly wants to know why he can't stay with her. Yeah, no kidding. It seems to me that'd be the safest place for him. It'd be a mite difficult for the kidnapper to grab the kid right out of his mother's lap. But Waverly claims that Johnnie will be happier with him and that Miss Collins can stay with Mrs. Waverly.
*whack* *whack* *whack*
Back on the road, Hastings is still trying to figure out what's wrong with the car and Poirot is bitching at him for taking too long. YOU'RE NOT FUCKING HELPING, POIROT!
Poirot starts walking back to Waverly Manor (and his boots are most definitely NOT made for walking) where the clock shows that it's quarter to twelve and people are starting to wonder where he is.
Twelve o'clock comes with Poirot still not back and Johnnie under the watchful eye of his father and Japp. The clock chimes...and there's a commotion outside. Turns out that the zillion and one police officers stationed outside the house have caught someone trying to sneak onto the grounds. Japp and Mr. Waverly run out. The culprit is a somewhat raggedy looking man carrying a sack containing chlorophorm, a cotton pad and yet another ransom note. That note states that Waverly should have paid and now it will cost him 70 000 pounds to get back his son who has--as promised--been abducted at twelve o'clock. The man in question claims not to know anything about anything; he says a man he met on the road gave him the bag to deliver to Waverly manor.
Just as Waverly is about to lay into him, a car honks behind him and the group turns to see young Johnnie Waverly in the backseat of a car as it goes driving off. Just then, the clock on a nearby building chimes noon and Japp takes out his pocket watch to see that it is indeed just now twelve o'clock. Everyone goes running inside--why I don't know since they just saw Johnnie being driven off, you'd think it would make more sense to jump in their cars and chase after him--and sure enough the room that Japp and Waverly just left is empty, Johnnie's toy car is abandoned on the floor and the clock says it's ten after twelve.
Sometime later, we see Poirot sitting and soaking his feet, which apparently are causing him agony. The kidnapping, he terms "pleasing" and "charming."
Poirot: Someone fools us all simply by putting the clock ahead ten minutes.
Yeah, it doesn't take much, does it.
Mrs. Waverly is not impressed and starts blathering on about her son having been kidnapped, but Poirot assures her that her son will be safe as the kidnappers would not dare harm the source of their income.
Yeah, Poirot, I'll remember that when we get to Murder on the Orient Express.
Japp comes in to update them on his progress, which is, needless to say, none. The guy they caught on the grounds is sticking to his story. Poirot decides that he should talk to him. On the way downstairs, they run into Hastings, who's figured out what made the car stop: it was out of gas. sigh Oh, Hastings! In all fairness to Hastings, the fuel gauge was stuck at full, making it a little more difficult to tell.
Anyway, the ruffian repeats his story: some geezer (his word) stopped him on the road and paid him to deliver the bag to Waverly manor at precisely ten to twelve. When asked to describe the guy, the ruffian says he was not tall, had a mustache, wore a grey uniform and had a queer voice. Apparently, he resembled the butler enough to be his son. Japp, however, alibis the butler, saying he was with Waverly all day and doesn't have a son.
Poirot seems to believe the ruffian, but Japp decides to arrest him anyway (the ruffian, that is, not Poirot) on a charge of vagrancy. Because in this episode he's being an officious asshole. He's also decided to return to London, which is where he's convinced the boy will be found.
So at least we can rule out one city.
Poirot interviews Tredwell, the butler, who it turns out has been working in the house for thirty years. He has a high opinion of Mr. Waverly, but clearly is not overly fond of Mrs. Waverly, who may be wealthy but apparently was not to the manor born if you get my drift. And, yes, some servants were every bit as snobby as their employers.
Meanwhile, Hastings is interviewing Miss Collins, asking her about Johnnie's recently fired nurse. It turns out that she'd only been there six months, but seemed perfectly trustworthy. And, anyway, she'd been sent packing by the time the kidnapping occurred.
Poirot interrupts and he and Hastings compare notes. Poirot considers the matter to be fairly clear, but there is one thing that he does not understand. (One thing!?) He can't figure out how the kidnapper escaped the house with Johnnie, since no matter what exit they used, they would have run into someone. Fortunately, Mrs. Waverly overhears and provides the answer: the tunnel! What tunnel, you ask? Well, it turns out that Waverly manner is old enough to have a priest hole. It's accessed through the library and comes out at a mausoleum a half mile away. Not too many people know about it, but enough do that you would think the Waverlys would have MENTIONED THIS TO THE POLICE!!! I mean, when your son is being threatened with kidnapping, you'd think you might want to inform the police that your house has a secret passageway!
Hastings and Poirot grap a couple of "torches" and head off into the tunnel. And I swear, for a moment, I feel like I'm watching an episode of Scooby Doo. The tunnel is dank and dark, but traversable enough and it comes out at a spot where it would be easy as pie to park a car and thus take off with the child, hitting the horn when they pass by the house.
Poirot: It is a farce! Nothing more!
Yeah, dude, that's what I've been saying!
Poirot reminds Hastings of the bleeding obvious: that there had to have been an accomplice inside the house. Someone to poison Mrs. Waverly...
Hastings: Poison!?
SHUT THE FUCK UP, HASTINGS!
Seriously, I've met kindergarteners who were less naive.
Anyway, as I was saying, someone in the house had to poison Mrs. Waverly, pin the note to Mr. Waverly's pillow and set the clock ahead ten minutes. At the time of the kidnapping, there were only four people (other than Japp who I guess is too dumb to be considered a suspect) in the house: Mrs. Waverly and Miss Collins, who alibi each other, and Mr. Waverly and Tredwell, who also alibi each other. Hmmm, I'm sensing a conspiracy afoot.
Back at the house, Poirot announces--and I'd say he speaks for all of us--that he is done with this case and taking the train back to London. Hastings, of course, offers to drive him, but...well, you can imagine Poirot's reaction.
Waverly comes in and when Poirot tells him he is leaving, starts to bluster about how Poirot hasn't done anything. Poirot tells him that he has done everything and will give him the address where he can find his son. He hands him a sheet of paper.
Waverly: It's a blank sheet.
Poirot: Because I am waiting for you to write it down.
Like I said, obvious.
Poirot then orders Waverly to take them to the boy or he will tell Mrs. Waverly what's been going on.
Um...shouldn't you do that anyway? Her husband poisoned her--granted, he wasn't trying to hurt her, just get her out of the way for a while--and kidnapped her son. He put her through both physical and mental torment and, personally, I think she has a right to know! The guy's an ass and if ths was today, she could divorce him and take him for everything he's worth. Okay, he's not actually worth anything, which is kind of the whole point, but she could take that stupid house and raze it to the ground. Back in the thirties, I'm not sure exactly what she would be able to do, but at the very least she should be given the opportunity to do something, not remain blissfully ignorant of the kind of man she married.
On the way to get Johnnie, Waverly assures Poirot that he is fine and being well taken care of, which Poirot believes. Yeah, but that's not the point! Well, okay, it's a little bit the point. But to my mind, the victim of this affair isn't Johnnie, but Ada Waverly.
They arrive at a little house, where they find Johnnie with his nurse, you know, the one who so vociferously protested her firing. She's wearing the grey uniform that the ruffian described. It turns out that she is Tredwell's niece, so I guess it's safe to assume that Tredwell was in on the whole thing. As was mentioned on The Tudors, some people turn loyalty into a vice.
Poirot tells Waverly, that he does not believe he is really a bad father and so he is giving him a second chance.
OH, SHUT THE FUCK UP, POIROT!
First of all, yes he is a bad father since he just used his son as a pawn to extort money from his wife. And, more to the point, he's a bad husband. And, while we're on the subject, what about all those poor servants who just got fired for no reason? The most charitable explanation is that Waverly could no longer afford to employ them and so this was a face-saving way of getting rid of his staff without having to admit his financial situation. But, if this is the case, it is never explicitly stated. I seem to be the only person who gives a crap about the fate of these servants and, as Tristam Shandy would say, I haven't even been born yet!
In all fairness, Poirot does read Waverly the riot act about being so obsessed with appearances that he couldn't tolerate his wife stopping renovations on the house. He also points out that being married to a rich woman is not the same as being rich. Ha! No shit, Sherlock. As the saying goes, people who marry for money end up earning every penny. Poirot also tells Waverly that he has an old and honoured name that he should not jeopardize. Ah, the good old Christie class bias rears its head. So, if Waverly was just some joe-bloe schmuck, it would be okay to expose him? Fuck off, Poirot.
Finally, Poirot informs Waverly that he will be sending him his bill. Which brings up the question: what the fuck was Waverly doing involving Poirot in this whole thing? Did he want to be caught. Oh wait, Poirot's a foreigner; a guy like Waverly probably just assumed he'd be useless. And I guess he kind of is, since he's letting Waverly get away with the whole thing. Geez, this is the second episode in a row where the criminal has been let off scott free because...well, just because. At least Japp isn't involved this time. In fact, I bet he'd be quite happy to throw Waverly into a cell after all that I pay your taxes, I'm going to talk to your superiors crap.
Hastings then drives Poirot to the train station where he asks him to let him in on the secret of how he figured the whole thing out.
Poirot: It was obvious.
Yes. Yes, it was.
Hastings tries to persuade Poirot to let him drive him back to London.
Poirot: Hastings, the train has one advantage over the car: it does not often run out of coal.
Nice one Poirot. BTW, I should probably mention that we never got an explanation for Hasting's faulty fuel gauge. There's no indication that Waverly or Tredwell tampered with it. So, we're back to the lazy writing explanation.
Bad morals, obvious villain, lazy writing....To paraphrase Bart Simpson: I didn't think it was possible, but this episode both sucks and blows.
