Hercule Poirot and the case of the misleading testimonies

"One's actions cannot be popular unless someone knows about them. Cui bono, Mr Sixsmith?"

Her Majesty the Queen, disconcerted by the recent scandals afflicting her loyal government and her civil service, has requested the renowned detective Hercule Poirot to come out of retirement and investigate. Naturally, he obliges. M Poirot, his hair as black as ever, has now gathered together the principal protagonists in the Byers Affair, in the library at Sandringham.

"Your Majesty, ladies and gentlemen, this has been, from the outset, a baffling case," says Poirot, mopping his brow with his monogrammed silk handkerchief. "There has been general agreement that evil has been done," he nods towards a sallow-faced spectacled man sitting in the half-light of a standard lamp, "and yet, I ask myself, what exactly is the crime?

"Some say that this does not matter, that it is a question merely of the perception. But I, Hercule Poirot, say it does matter!" Poirot points his finger to the ceiling, as if connecting his sentiments directly to the divine will.

He continues. "We begin this story with reports in two English newspapers, couched in their usual deplorable vulgarity, that a Jo Moore has 'been at it again'. Mlle Moore has what I believe you call, 'form'. She has once wished to hide bad news under the cover of tragedy, et alors, despite an abject apology, she again wishes to do the same thing! This time using the funeral of your majesty's own dear departed sister."

Poirot's finger singles out a stony-looking young woman, wearing a cycle helmet. "If this is true, then it is curtains for Mlle Moore. And the evidence is the text of a telegram sent to her..."

"It was an e-mail, actually," interrupts the Queen.

"Tiens! An e-mail, sent to her by M Sixsmith, a civil servant. This communication says: 'There is no way I will allow this department to make any substantive announcements next Friday. Princess Margaret is being buried on that day. I will absolutely not allow anything else to be.' An admirable sentiment, no doubt, and one that casts favourable light on you, M Sixsmith..." – a lean figure holding a newspaper bows slightly – "...and suggests strongly that Mlle Moore has been at her old tricks again."

"But 10 Downing Street says that such an e-mail n'existe pas! The trusted M Smith has been in touch with M Sixsmith and has been told that there is no communication to the young lady. Yet within hours it transpires that a similar message has indeed been sent to M Byers, though the wording is slightly different."

"So has there been a crime, or not? M Sixsmith subsequently tells radio listeners that when the fateful Friday was suggested for the release of the news, he himself did not know that Princess Margaret was to be buried that day. So, is it not entirely possible that Mlle Moore did not know either? When M Sixsmith becomes aware of the truth, it is natural that he should warn his boss against this date. Bien sûr. But why, I ask myself, make two references to "burying"? Was it not enough to point out the difficulty and leave it at that? Unless, of course, the words were intended for some other purpose."

"M Sixsmith is newly arrived in the department. He finds that his staff are in a state of despair because of Mlle Moore. She is not, as you English say, "fragrant". What could be more popular than to take on this dragon, and win? Yet one's actions cannot be popular unless someone knows about them. Cui bono, M Sixsmith?"

"So now we come to the second crime. The papers are now calling for M Byers to be fired. He has been weak, he must do something. Yet Mlle Moore assures him she is innocent! It is the fault of the people who hate her! It is the fault of M Sixsmith! M Byers knows that she must go. Would it not be natural that he now harbours feelings of deep antagonism towards her assassins?"

"He talks with his permanent secretary, Sir Richard Mottram. Perhaps something comme ça: 'It is bad,' says M Byers. 'F...ing bad.' 'If I am going to lose Jo, then I want that bâtard Sixsmith gone as well.' 'Eh f...ing bien,' says Sir Richard. Later he calls to say that the deed is done. M Sixsmith will go. The double departure is announced to the press. A line is under the case.

"But a deal has not been done. A line has not been drawn. M Sixsmith wants a big job somewhere else. M Byers, however, will not quietly let M Sixsmith so much as clean the urinals in the whips' office! By the next Sunday M Sixsmith is still in office." Poirot pauses for effect. "And M Byers is on his way to the television studio.

"And here we encounter the second 'crime'. Does M Byers lie to the famous broadcaster, M Jonathan Dimbleby, and therefore to the entire nation, which is transfixed over its uneatable Sunday lunch? M Byers does clearly say: 'I also felt that in order to have a fresh start in the department... that it would be good if Martin Sixsmith went as well.' It would be useless to feel this and yet not to communicate it to Sir Richard. The clear implication is that M Byers did discuss with Sir Richard. Nor is there anything in the code of practice..." Poirot flourishes a large book, "which says that he should not.

"But M Dimbleby asks a different question. Il dit: 'Did you block a compromise that was apparently proposed by the Permanent Secretary... that Sixsmith could retrospectively resign and have another post in the Civil Service, as is alleged?' M Byers says: 'No. These are personnel issues... and they will be dealt with by Sir Richard Mottram as his employer.' Dimbleby: 'And you had no conversation about that with Sir Richard Mottram?' Byers: 'No. These are personnel matters.' Dimbleby: 'You are claiming that, beyond stating publicly that he had resigned, you had nothing more to do with that at all.' Byers: 'Oh, I was being kept informed of the developing situation, but I do not get involved with personnel matters.'

"Zut alors! He is being 'kept informed', but he has had no conversation? He is not 'involved'? Ah! But perhaps he has not 'spoken' to Sir Richard Mottram about the deal face-to-face? Perhaps he has sent a note? Or one of these e-mails?" The detective looks exasperated.

"We do not know. What we do know is that when M Byers comes to the House of Commons he wishes to make the clarification, the apology, 'if my answers on the programme gave the impression that I did not... make clear my views to others inside and outside the department'. And then he adds: 'I made it clear to Sir Richard Mottram, however, that in my view... Mr Sixsmith should not be given a job elsewhere in government.'

"So my question is this: did Sir Richard 'propose' a compromise? If he did, did M Byers 'block' it, as he says he had no power to do? Was there a 'conversation' to this effect? If the answer to all three questions is 'yes', then M Byers must be said to have lied to M Dimbleby. If not, then M Byers is, technically, innocent."

And Hercule Poirot, at last, turns to Her Majesty, triumphantly. To find that she is fast asleep.

David.Aaronovitch@btinternet.com