Strategic Reserve

"I say Poirot, have you seen this article in Time?

But when I looked up to see why he was silent, I saw him across the remains of breakfast, glaring at his phone, apparently very displeased with a text message.

"Hastings mon ami, these officials, their foolishness is a constant of the universe.  If I had a louis d'or for every time they were too late in consulting me, you would be visiting me at a chateau in the Loire, instead of this merely adequate Quebec locus operandi."

This was rough stuff from the normally imperturbable sleuth - that message must have touched a sore spot.  Pouring another café in hopes of mollifying my friend, I thought to distract him with the article I had just read.  Sliding the magazine across the table, I suggested, "Take a look at this.  How does this rank in your experience of government incompetence?"

He sighed and glanced over the page, but instead of the reaction I expected, his expression darkened.

"Mon Dieu, some person more foolish than usual has let slip the very secret of my own correspondent!  The tumbrils will surely clatter on the cobbles of Montreal before this sordid histoire is complete!"

Now I was really shocked.  What could it be?  There had been nothing in the article to arouse any emotion in me more violent than mild amusement and some traces of cynicism.  But there he was, thoughts of Capital Crimes obvious on his visage.

"We should make an immediate visit to my correspondent in the bureau, but as this is too confidential to risk even the cabbie overhearing, I must inform you of some vital facts here, now."

But just as Poirot was beginning his explanation, the maid entered.  Sitting back hastily, we watched impatiently as she cleared away the breakfast things: remains of fruits in bowls, the now empty coffee carafe, and toasts of pain de campagne.  Finally the door closed behind her.  Poirot went hastily to the door, opened it, peered up and down the corridor, then quietly closed and carefully locked it.

Returning to his seat and the last of his café, he began.  "My dear Captain Hastings, perhaps you are aware from your service that there are substances absolutely key to the effective functioning of certain military and even espionage devices?  Par example, everyone knows of the necessity for neodymium; that secret has been public knowledge, at least among the cognoscenti, for a decade at the minimum.  But there are substances even more vital, even more secret, and the foolish article in the Time magazine has, perhaps inadvertently, but perhaps deliberately, verged on revealing one of these to the up-to-now happily ignorant public."

"Poirot, I can't imaging what you could be referring to.  The article was a bit of fluff.  Except for the ludicrous cash value, it was about nothing more consequential than those remains of toast just carried off by the maid."

"Ah, but there you are sadly but understandably very wrong.  The consequences may be most dire, if the loss is not recovered instantly, and more vitally, if the persons responsible are not compelled to silence on the subject."   After a brief pause he continued, "Surely you have been curious about certain large sums in those Provincial Budget documents I asked you to assist me with over the last week?  Those items with the benign but vague identities?  Also, how they have increased in variety and value so dramatically in the last two years?  You know of course of the immense value to certain nations of their exports of natural products.  Crude oil, of course, not only from the Middle Eastern nations, but also from Norway, Brazil, and others.  Minerals, such as the vital neodymium already mentioned, from China and certain African countries.  What you are not aware of, and the thing which is the absolute fulcrum of Canada's entire economy, is the subject of that dangerous article.  And even the New York Times has discussed it!  So everyone on the Upper West Side now knows!  Quel désastre!"

"Ask yourself, Hastings, why certain items were not present at our otherwise delightful petit déjeuner?  What was missing?  You remember, I know.  It was not so long ago that every table held a chalice full.  Cast your mind back, and I know you will remember.  That, mon ami, is why the Strategic Reserve exists, and is not just a myth.  That is why the crime is so vile, a crime against humanity itself."

He stood.  "Let us go quickly.  We two, perhaps only we two, can save Canada."