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Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of Poirot Investigates
Stats:
Published:
2019-05-27
Updated:
2019-05-27
Words:
420
Chapters:
1/25
Comments:
15
Kudos:
98
Bookmarks:
3
Hits:
623

The Curator of Time

Summary:

"Some points in time are fixed- the war for example- others are not- such as the loss of a valuable piece of art."

"Madame, I see it necessary to remind you that the other war has not yet started,"

"You mean you know? About..."

"The little grey cells... they tell me that you are indeed from another place... another time..."

Hercule Poirot sees himself hired by a prestigious London university, to solve a series of thefts. All of which involve valuable artwork. Meanwhile, the flat above Poirot's in Whitehaven Mansions has recently been occupied by a mysterious woman. One who speaks in a Yorkshire accent, and doesn't really fit in with the place. The two heroes shall unite forces in order to solve a case even Poirot could never have predicted.

Along the way we will encounter some of Poirot's old friends, Captain Hastings, Miss Lemon, and Chief Inspector Japp, Ariadne Oliver also makes a minor appearance. The Doctor currently has no companion(s), Ryan, Yaz, and Graham are mentioned a few times though. Donna and Agatha Christie (+ the events of The Unicorn and The Wasp) are also discussed by The Doctor more than once.

Notes:

Following the minor success of Murder On The Hogwarts Express, I decided it was time for a sequel! Unlike that story though, this is wholly original in narrative, and the suspects/victims of the case are entirely of my own creation. Chronologically speaking, this takes place a few months after the events of Murder On The Hogwarts Express, and it's mentioned in the first few chapters- but you do not need to read it to follow this fic.

I'm aiming for it to be shorter than MOTHE, and although there are still going to be around 25 chapters, they won't be as lengthy in word count. Hopefully this is just as enjoyable! My main reason for doing this is to have a bit of fun, and also introduce you to my view of The Doctor, and further explore how Poirot reacts to the possibilities of Magic/The Supernatural/Time and Space.

Updates will be slow on this fic- I'm working on a lot of original writing at the moment, and I'm also currently sorting finance and other things for university; I've seen the Kudos/Hits creeping up lately, and I just wanted to reaffirm that it will be worked on when I get the time.

(Originally uploaded November 3rd 2018, edited on July 22nd 2019).

Chapter 1: The Police Box Outside Whitehaven Mansions

Chapter Text

It was eight fifteen when Miss Lemon finally arrived at Poirot's apartment. It was not like her to be late, and Poirot was not at all impressed.

"Ah! Mon ami Madmoiselle Lemon! C'est unacceptable!"

"Oh I am sorry Monsieur, it's just I couldn't get in! Have you seen the great blue thing outside? They've put it right in front of the entrance!"

"Hein- 'the great blue thing'? Is this another one of your 'English idioms'?"

"No! There's a blue box outside- you know- a police one! I had to come in through the back, that, and with your new neighbour, I could hardly get in! I've never seen anything like it."

"Ah, yes, the Madame Smith I believe? Pleasant creature- though a curious one- most curious indeed. Never mind all that Miss Lemon, it is time for tea."

"Well that's just it-" Miss Lemon carried on emphatically, not making tea, nor readying herself for her other duties as Poirot's secretary, "I bumped into her, what a strange woman! Dressed in such a bizarre attire! How on Earth did a woman like that manage to get into this place? I would sooner-"

"Miss Lemon, I should like to think that it is I who should be judging my neighbours, oui? It is 1938, not 1838. What she would like to wear-"

"Oh- yes- quite right Poirot, as always. I'll go and make the tea shall I?"

By nine o'clock Poirot has finished his tea, and is opening the morning post. A letter with grandly styled cursive handwriting and a wax seal atop of the pile. it was from a Professor Bridget Hart. Commissioning him for some case at the New Arts University of London.

'Dear Mr. Hercule Poirot, I am writing to you on the advice of my good friend Ariadne Oliver- who says your little grey cells should be of great use at a case I have in Camberwell. A series of thefts you understand- invaluable masterpieces entrusted in our keeping- gone. It would be easier to explain everything in person. Please come at the soonest convenience. Reward on offer for the solution to this case. All the best, Bridget Hart, Professor of Fine Art.'

"Miss Lemon?"

"Yes Poirot?"

"Can you please call me the car, I have been summoned for a meeting most important."

"Aren't you supposed to be seeing Captain Hastings today?"

"Agh! Hein. You will telephone Hastings and say that he will meet me at the New Arts University in Camberwell. Tout de suit."

"Yes Monsieur Poirot."

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