Ratchett employed Edward Masterman as a personal servant.

Ratchett employed Edward Henry Masterman as his personal valet, a professional arrangement that placed Masterman in close daily proximity to his employer and made him a figure of immediate interest after the murder. Masterman, a thirty-nine-year-old Englishman from Clerkenwell, had been in Ratchett's service for just over nine months, having previously worked for Sir Henry Tomlinson in Grosvenor Square. His duties included folding and hanging Ratchett's clothes, placing his dental plate in water, and ensuring he had everything needed for the night—routine tasks that gave him intimate access to Ratchett's compartment and personal effects.

Nature of the Employment

Masterman's role was strictly professional and emotionally detached. He described Ratchett as "a generous employer" but admitted he did not like him, attributing his dislike to a general distaste for Americans rather than any specific grievance. He had never been to America and maintained a formal, inexpressive demeanor throughout his interactions. His employment was secured through Ratchett's need for a valet who could manage his travel requirements, and Masterman performed his duties with mechanical efficiency, showing no personal investment in his master's welfare beyond the contractual.

Key Actions and Objectives

On the night of the murder, Masterman attended to Ratchett at about nine o'clock, noting that his master was upset over a letter he had been reading. Ratchett accused Masterman of placing the letter in his compartment, swore at him, and found fault with everything he did—behavior Masterman described as not unusual when Ratchett was agitated. Masterman poured Ratchett's sleeping draught into a glass and placed it on the toilet table, though he did not see him drink it. He then informed Hector MacQueen that Ratchett wanted him, returned to his own second-class compartment (No. 4, lower berth), and read Love's Captive by Mrs. Arabella Richardson until the conductor made up the beds at about ten-thirty.

Relationships and Conflict

Masterman shared his compartment with Antonio Foscarelli, a voluble Italian-American whom he found unsympathetic. He preferred to read rather than converse, and his terse, dismissive responses to Foscarelli's overtures created a strained silence between them. His relationship with Ratchett was purely transactional; he expressed no affection or loyalty, only a grudging acknowledgment of Ratchett's generosity. When questioned about the Armstrong kidnapping case, Masterman showed genuine shock upon learning that Ratchett was Cassetti, the principal instigator, but this revelation did not alter his professional composure.

Change and Ending

Masterman's alibi for the time of the murder rested entirely on Foscarelli's testimony that he never left the compartment. He claimed to have suffered from toothache, applied oil of cloves, and read through the night, finally dropping off about four in the morning. He heard nothing unusual and did not leave the compartment. Later, he voluntarily confessed to Poirot that he had been Colonel Armstrong's batman in the War and later his valet in New York, a fact he had concealed during his initial interview. This admission, made to protect Foscarelli from suspicion, revealed his deeper connection to the Armstrong tragedy and his motive for participating in the conspiracy.

Narrative Role and Evaluation

Masterman functions as a quiet but essential cog in the elaborate plot to execute Ratchett. His role as the only passenger of the right height to have worn the Wagon Lit uniform made him a potential suspect, but his alibi and his later confession positioned him as one of the twelve conspirators rather than the sole murderer. His character remains flat in the Forsterian sense—built around a single idea of loyal service and quiet duty—yet his capacity to surprise (the concealed past, the voluntary confession) hints at a roundness that the narrative never fully develops. His presence underscores the theme of collective justice: even the most reserved and seemingly detached servant can be drawn into a moral crusade when personal history intersects with a shared grievance.