The intense interest aroused in public opinion by the events which, during that period, became known as the "Styles Affair" has now somewhat subsided. Nevertheless, given that this case caused a sensation internationally, I was asked, both by my friend Poirot and by the family itself, to record what happened and concerned this particular case. In this way, we hope to put an end to the completely unfounded rumors that persistently continue to circulate.
Therefore, I will briefly describe the circumstances that led to my involvement in this case. I had been sent home, wounded, from the Front; there, after spending a few months in a rather depressing sanatorium, I was granted a month's sick leave. As I had no relatives or friends nearby, I was trying to decide what to do, when by chance I met John Cavendish. I had seen little of him in recent years. In fact, we had never been close friends. He was over fifteen years older than me, although he certainly did not look forty-five. However, when I was a child, I had often stayed at Styles, his mother's house in Essex.
We talked for a while, reminisced about old times, and eventually he invited me to Styles to spend my leave there. "Mother will be thrilled to see you again... after all these years," he added. "Is your mother in good health?" I asked. "Ah, yes. I suppose you've heard that she remarried." I'm afraid I couldn't hide my surprise. Mrs. Cavendish, who had married John's father when he was already a widower with two sons, was at that time a middle-aged, charming woman, as I remembered her. Certainly, by now it would be impossible for her to be less than seventy years old.