Hallowe’en Party_ A Hercule Poirot Myste

AgathaChristie
Hallowe’enParty
AHerculePoirotMystery
ToP.G.Wodehousewhosebooksandstorieshavebrightenedmylifeformanyyears.Alsotoshowmypleasureinhishavingbeenkindenoughtotellmethatheenjoysmybooks.
Contents
Cover
TitlePage
Dedication
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
ChapterTwenty
ChapterTwenty-one
ChapterTwenty-two
ChapterTwenty-three
ChapterTwenty-four
ChapterTwenty-five
ChapterTwenty-six
ChapterTwenty-seven
AbouttheAuthor
OtherBooksbyTheAgathaChristie
Copyright
AboutthePublisher
One
Mrs.AriadneOliverhadgonewiththefriendwithwhomshewasstaying,JudithButler,tohelpwiththepreparationsforachildren’spartywhichwastotakeplacethatsameevening.
Atthemomentitwasasceneofchaoticactivity.Energeticwomencameinandoutofdoorsmovingchairs,smalltables,flowervases,andcarryinglargequantitiesofyellowpumpkinswhichtheydisposedstrategicallyinselectedspots
ItwastobeaHallowe’enpartyforinvitedguestsofanagegroupbetweentenandseventeenyearsold.
Mrs.Oliver,removingherselffromthemaingroup,leantagainstavacantbackgroundofwallandheldupalargeyellowpumpkin,lookingatitcritically—“ThelasttimeIsawoneofthese,”shesaid,sweepingbackhergreyhairfromherprominentforehead,“wasintheUnitedStateslastyear—hundredsofthem.Alloverthehouse.I’veneverseensomanypumpkins.Asamatteroffact,”sheaddedthoughtfully,“I’veneverreallyknownthedifferencebetweenapumpkinandavegetablemarrow.What’sthisone?”
“Sorry,dear,”saidMrs.Butler,asshefelloverherfriend’sfeet.
Mrs.Oliverpressedherselfcloseragainstthewall.
“Myfault,”shesaid.“I’mstandingaboutandgettingintheway.Butitwasratherremarkable,seeingsomanypumpkinsorvegetablemarrows,whatevertheyare.Theywereeverywhere,intheshops,andinpeople’shouses,withcandlesornightlightsinsidethemorstrungup.Veryinterestingreally.Butitwasn’tforaHallowe’enparty,itwasThanksgiving.NowI’vealwaysassociatedpumpkinswithHallowe’enandthat’stheendofOctober.Thanksgivingcomesmuchlater,doesn’tit?Isn’titNovember,aboutthethirdweekinNovember?Anyway,here,Hallowe’enisdefinitelythe31stofOctober,isn’tit?FirstHallowe’enandthen,whatcomesnext?AllSouls’Day?That’swheninParisyougotocemeteriesandputflowersongraves.Notasadsortoffeast.Imean,allthechildrengotoo,andenjoythemselves.Yougotoflowermarketsfirstandbuylotsandlotsoflovelyflowers.FlowersneverlooksolovelyastheydoinParisinthemarketthere.”
AlotofbusywomenwerefallingoverMrs.Oliveroccasionally,buttheywerenotlisteningtoher.Theywerealltoobusywithwhattheyweredoing.
Theyconsistedforthemostpartofmothers,oneortwocompetentspinsters;therewereusefulteenagers,boysofsixteenandseventeenclimbingupladdersorstandingonchairstoputdecorations,pumpkinsorvegetablemarrowsorbrightlycolouredwitch-ballsatasuitableelevation;girlsfromeleventofifteenhungaboutingroupsandgiggled.
“AndafterAllSouls’Dayandcemeteries,”wentonMrs.Oliver,loweringherbulkontothearmofasettee,“youhaveAllSaints’Day.IthinkI’mright?”
Nobodyrespondedtothisquestion.Mrs.Drake,ahandsomemiddle-agedwomanwhowasgivingtheparty,madeapronouncement.
“I’mnotcallingthisaHallowe’enparty,althoughofcourseitisonereally.I’mcallingittheElevenPlusparty.It’sthatsortofagegroup.MostlypeoplewhoareleavingtheElmsandgoingontootherschools.”
“Butthat’snotveryaccurate,Rowena,isit?”saidMissWhittaker,resettingherpince-nezonhernosedisapprovingly.
MissWhittakerasalocalschoolteacherwasalwaysfirmonaccuracy.
“Becausewe’veabolishedtheeleven-plussometimeago.”
Mrs.Oliverrosefromthesetteeapologetically.“Ihaven’tbeenmakingmyselfuseful.I’vejustbeensittingheresayingsillythingsaboutpumpkinsandvegetablemarrows’—Andrestingmyfeet,shethought,withaslightpangofconscience,butwithoutsufficientfeelingofguilttosayitaloud.
“NowwhatcanIdonext?”sheasked,andadded,“Whatlovelyapples!”
Someonehadjustbroughtalargebowlofapplesintotheroom.Mrs.Oliverwaspartialtoapples.
“Lovelyredones,”sheadded.
“They’renotreallyverygood,”saidRowenaDrake.“Buttheylookniceandpartified.That’sforbobbingforapples.They’rerathersoftapples,sopeoplewillbeabletogettheirteethintothembetter.Takethemintothelibrary,willyou,Beatrice?Bobbingforapplesalwaysmakesamesswiththewatersloppingover,butthatdoesn’tmatterwiththelibrarycarpet,it’ssoold.Oh!Thankyou,Joyce.”
Joyce,asturdythirteen-year-old,seizedthebowlofapples.Tworolledoffitandstopped,asthougharrestedbyawitch’swand,atMrs.Oliver’sfeet.
“Youlikeapples,don’tyou,”saidJoyce.“Ireadyoudid,orperhapsIhearditonthetelly.You’retheonewhowritesmurderstories,aren’tyou?”
“Yes,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Weoughttohavemadeyoudosomethingconnectedwithmurders.Haveamurderatthepartytonightandmakepeoplesolveit.”
“No,thankyou,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Neveragain.”
“Whatdoyoumean,neveragain?”
“Well,Ididonce,anditdidn’tturnoutmuchofasuccess,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Butyou’vewrittenlotsofbooks,”saidJoyce,“youmakealotofmoneyoutofthem,don’tyou?”
“Inaway,”saidMrs.Oliver,herthoughtsflyingtotheInlandRevenue.
“Andyou’vegotadetectivewho’saFinn.”
Mrs.Oliveradmittedthefact.Asmallstolidboynotyet,Mrs.Oliverwouldhavethought,arrivedattheseniorityoftheeleven-plus,saidsternly,“WhyaFinn?”
“I’veoftenwondered,”saidMrs.Olivertruthfully.
Mrs.Hargreaves,theorganist’swife,cameintotheroombreathingheavily,andbearingalargegreenplasticpail.
“Whataboutthis,”shesaid,“fortheapplebobbing?Kindofgay,Ithought.”
MissLee,thedoctor’sdispenser,said,“Galvanizedbucket’sbetter.Won’ttipoversoeasily.Whereareyougoingtohaveit,Mrs.Drake?”
“Ithoughtthebobbingforappleshadbetterbeinthelibrary.Thecarpet’soldthereandalotofwateralwaysgetsspilt,anyway.”
“Allright.We’lltakethemalong.Rowena,here’sanotherbasketofapples.”
“Letmehelp,”saidMrs.Oliver.
Shepickedupthetwoapplesatherfeet.Almostwithoutnoticingwhatshewasdoing,shesankherteethintooneofthemandbegantocrunchit.Mrs.Drakeabstractedthesecondapplefromherfirmlyandrestoredittothebasket.Abuzzofconversationbrokeout.
“Yes,butwherearewegoingtohavetheSnapdragon?”
“YououghttohavetheSnapdragoninthelibrary,it’smuchthedarkestroom.”
“No,we’regoingtohavethatinthediningroom.”
“We’llhavetoputsomethingonthetablefirst.”
“There’sagreenbaizetoputonthatandthentherubbersheetoverit.”
“Whataboutthelookingglasses?Shallwereallyseeourhusbandsinthem?”
Surreptitiouslyremovinghershoesandstillquietlychampingatherapple,Mrs.Oliverloweredherselfoncemoreontothesetteeandsurveyedtheroomfullofpeoplecritically.Shewasthinkinginherauthoress’smind:“Now,ifIwasgoingtomakeabookaboutallthesepeople,howshouldIdoit?They’renicepeople,Ishouldthink,onthewhole,butwhoknows?”
Inaway,shefelt,itwasratherfascinatingnottoknowanythingaboutthem.TheyalllivedinWoodleighCommon,someofthemhadfainttagsattachedtotheminhermemorybecauseofwhatJudithhadtoldher.MissJohnson—somethingtodowiththechurch,notthevicar’ssister.Ohno,itwastheorganist’ssister,ofcourse.RowenaDrake,whoseemedtorunthingsinWoodleighCommon.Thepuffingwomanwhohadbroughtinthepail,aparticularlyhideousplasticpail.ButthenMrs.Oliverhadneverbeenfondofplasticthings.Andthenthechildren,theteenagegirlsandboys.
SofartheywerereallyonlynamestoMrs.Oliver.TherewasaNanandaBeatriceandaCathie,aDianaandaJoyce,whowasboastfulandaskedquestions.Idon’tlikeJoycemuch,thoughtMrs.Oliver.AgirlcalledAnn,wholookedtallandsuperior.Thereweretwoadolescentboyswhoappearedtohavejustgotusedtotryingoutdifferenthairstyles,withratherunfortunateresults.
Asmallishboyenteredinsomeconditionofshyness.
“Mummysentthesemirrorstoseeifthey’ddo,”hesaidinaslightlybreathlessvoice.
Mrs.Draketookthemfromhim.
“Thankyousomuch,Eddy,”shesaid.
“They’rejustordinarylookinghandmirrors,”saidthegirlcalledAnn.“Shallwereallyseeourfuturehusbands’facesinthem?”
“Someofyoumayandsomemaynot,”saidJudithButler.
“Didyoueverseeyourhusband’sfacewhenyouwenttoaparty—Imeanthiskindofaparty?”
“Ofcourseshedidn’t,”saidJoyce.
“Shemighthave,”saidthesuperiorBeatrice.“E.S.P.theycallit.Extrasensoryperception,”sheaddedinthetoneofonepleasedwithbeingthoroughlyconversantwiththetermsofthetimes.
“Ireadoneofyourbooks,”saidAnntoMrs.Oliver.“TheDyingGoldfish.Itwasquitegood,”shesaidkindly.
“Ididn’tlikethatone,”saidJoyce.“Therewasn’tenoughbloodinit.Ilikemurderstohavelotsofblood.”
“Abitmessy,”saidMrs.Oliver,“don’tyouthink?”
“Butexciting,”saidJoyce.
“Notnecessarily,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Isawamurderonce,”saidJoyce.
“Don’tbesilly,Joyce,”saidMissWhittaker,theschoolteacher.
“Idid,”saidJoyce.
“Didyoureally?”askedCathie,gazingatJoycewithwideeyes,“reallyandtrulyseeamurder?”
“Ofcourseshedidn’t,”saidMrs.Drake.“Don’tsaysillythings,Joyce.”
“Ididseeamurder,”saidJoyce.“Idid.Idid.Idid.”
Aseventeen-year-oldboypoisedonaladderlookeddowninterestedly.
“Whatkindofamurder?”heasked.
“Idon’tbelieveit,”saidBeatrice.
“Ofcoursenot,”saidCathie’smother.“She’sjustmakingitup.”
“I’mnot.Isawit.”
“Whydidn’tyougotothepoliceaboutit?”askedCathie.
“BecauseIdidn’tknowitwasamurderwhenIsawit.Itwasn’treallytillalongtimeafterwards,Imean,thatIbegantoknowthatitwasamurder.Somethingthatsomebodysaidonlyaboutamonthortwoagosuddenlymademethink:Ofcourse,thatwasamurderIsaw.”
“Yousee,”saidAnn,“she’smakingitallup.It’snonsense.”
“Whendidithappen?”askedBeatrice.
“Yearsago,”saidJoyce.“Iwasquiteyoungatthetime,”sheadded.
“Whomurderedwho?”saidBeatrice.
“Ishan’ttellanyofyou,”saidJoyce.“You’reallsohorridaboutit.”
MissLeecameinwithanotherkindofbucket.Conversationshiftedtoacomparisonofbucketsorplasticpailsasmostsuitableforthesportofbobbingforapples.Themajorityofthehelpersrepairedtothelibraryforanappraisalonthespot.Someoftheyoungermembers,itmaybesaid,wereanxioustodemonstrate,byarehearsalofthedifficultiesandtheirownaccomplishmentinthesport.Hairgotwet,watergotspilt,towelsweresentfortomopitup.Intheenditwasdecidedthatagalvanizedbucketwaspreferabletothemoremeretriciouscharmsofaplasticpailwhichoverturnedrathertooeasily.
Mrs.Oliver,settingdownabowlofappleswhichshehadcarriedintoreplenishthestorerequiredfortomorrow,oncemorehelpedherselftoone.
“Ireadinthepaperthatyouwerefondofeatingapples,”theaccusingvoiceofAnnorSusan—shewasnotquitesurewhich—spoketoher.
“It’smybesettingsin,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Itwouldbemorefunifitwasmelons,”objectedoneoftheboys.“They’resojuicy.Thinkofthemessitwouldmake,”hesaid,surveyingthecarpetwithpleasurableanticipation.
Mrs.Oliver,feelingalittleguiltyatthepublicarraignmentofgreediness,lefttheroominsearchofaparticularapartment,thegeographyofwhichisusuallyfairlyeasilyidentified.Shewentupthestaircaseand,turningthecorneronthehalflanding,cannonedintoapair,agirlandaboy,claspedineachother’sarmsandleaningagainstthedoorwhichMrs.Oliverfeltfairlycertainwasthedoortotheroomtowhichsheherselfwasanxioustogainaccess.Thecouplepaidnoattentiontoher.Theysighedandtheysnuggled.Mrs.Oliverwonderedhowoldtheywere.Theboywasfifteen,perhaps,thegirllittlemorethantwelve,althoughthedevelopmentofherchestseemedcertainlyonthematureside.
AppleTreeswasahouseoffairsize.Ithad,shethought,severalagreeablenooksandcorners.Howselfishpeopleare,thoughtMrs.Oliver.Noconsiderationforothers.Thatwell-knowntagfromthepastcameintohermind.Ithadbeensaidtoherinsuccessionbyanursemaid,ananny,agoverness,hergrandmother,twogreat-aunts,hermotherandafewothers.
“Excuseme,”saidMrs.Oliverinaloud,clearvoice.
Theboyandthegirlclungcloserthanever,theirlipsfastenedoneachother’s.
“Excuseme,”saidMrs.Oliveragain,“doyoumindlettingmepass?Iwanttogetinatthisdoor.”
Unwillinglythecouplefellapart.Theylookedatherinanaggrievedfashion.Mrs.Oliverwentin,bangedthedoorandshotthebolt.
Itwasnotaveryclose-fittingdoor.Thefaintsoundofwordscametoherfromoutside.
“Isn’tthatlikepeople?”onevoicesaidinasomewhatuncertaintenor.“Theymightseewedidn’twanttobedisturbed.”
“Peoplearesoselfish,”pipedagirl’svoice.“Theyneverthinkofanyonebutthemselves.”
“Noconsiderationforothers,”saidtheboy’svoice.
Two
Preparationsforachildren’spartyusuallygivefarmoretroubletotheorganizersthananentertainmentdevisedforthoseofadultyears.Foodofgoodqualityandsuitablealcoholicrefreshment—withlemonadeontheside,that,totherightpeople,isquiteenoughtomakeapartygo.Itmaycostmorebutthetroubleisinfinitelyless.SoAriadneOliverandherfriendJudithButleragreedtogether.
“Whataboutteenageparties?”saidJudith.
“Idon’tknowmuchaboutthem,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Inoneway,”saidJudith,“Ithinkthey’reprobablyleasttroubleofall.Imean,theyjustthrowallofusadultsout.Andsaythey’lldoitallthemselves.”
“Anddothey?”
“Well,notinoursenseoftheword,”saidJudith.“Theyforgettoordersomeofthethings,andorderalotofotherthingsthatnobodylikes.Havingturfedusout,thentheysaytherewerethingsweoughttohaveprovidedforthemtofind.Theybreakalotofglasses,andotherthings,andthere’salwayssomebodyundesirableorwhobringsanundesirablefriend.Youknowthesortofthing.Peculiardrugsand—whatdotheycallit?—FlowerPotorPurpleHemporL.S.D.,whichIalwayshavethoughtjustmeantmoney;butapparentlyitdoesn’t.”
“Isupposeitcostsit,”suggestedAriadneOliver.
“It’sveryunpleasant,andHemphasanastysmell.”
“Itallsoundsverydepressing,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Anyway,thispartywillgoallright.TrustRowenaDrakeforthat.She’sawonderfulorganizer.You’llsee.”
“Idon’tfeelIevenwanttogotoaparty,”sighedMrs.Oliver.
“Yougoupandliedownforanhourorso.You’llsee.You’llenjoyitwhenyougetthere.IwishMirandahadn’tgotatemperature—she’ssodisappointedatnotbeingabletogo,poorchild.”
Thepartycameintobeingathalfpastseven.AriadneOliverhadtoadmitthatherfriendwasright.Arrivalswerepunctual.Everythingwentsplendidly.Itwaswell-imagined,well-runandranlikeclockwork.Therewereredandbluelightsonthestairsandyellowpumpkinsinprofusion.Thegirlsandboysarrivedholdingdecoratedbroomsticksforacompetition.Aftergreetings,RowenaDrakeannouncedtheprogrammefortheevening.“First,judgingofthebroomstickcompetition,”shesaid,“threeprizes,first,secondandthird.Thencomescuttingtheflourcake.That’llbeinthesmallconservatory.Thenbobbingforapples—there’salistpinneduponthewalloverthereofthepartnersforthatevent—thenthere’llbedancing.Everytimethelightsgooutyouchangepartners.Thengirlstothesmallstudywherethey’llbegiventheirmirrors.Afterthat,supper,Snapdragonandthenprizegiving.”
Likeallparties,itwentslightlystickilyatfirst.Thebroomswereadmired,theywereverysmallminiaturebrooms,andonthewholethedecoratingofthemhadnotreachedaveryhighstandardofmerit,“whichmakesiteasier,”saidMrs.Drakeinanasidetooneofherfriends.“Andit’saveryusefulthingbecauseImeantherearealwaysoneortwochildrenoneknowsonlytoowellwon’twinaprizeatanythingelse,soonecancheatalittleoverthis.”
“Sounscrupulous,Rowena.”
“I’mnotreally.Ijustarrangesothatthingsshouldbefairandevenlydivided.Thewholepointisthateveryonewantstowinsomething.”
“What’stheFlourGame?”askedAriadneOliver.
“Ohyes,ofcourse,youweren’therewhenweweredoingit.Well,youjustfillatumblerwithflour,pressitinwell,thenyouturnitoutinatrayandplaceasixpenceontopofit.Theneveryoneslicesasliceoffitverycarefullysoasnottotumblethesixpenceoff.Assoonassomeonetumblesthesixpenceoff,thatpersongoesout.It’sasortofelimination.Thelastoneleftingetsthesixpenceofcourse.Nowthen,awaywego.”
Andawaytheywent.Squealsofexcitementwereheardcomingfromthelibrarywherebobbingforappleswenton,andcompetitorsreturnedfromtherewithwetlocksandhavingdisposedagooddealofwaterabouttheirpersons.
Oneofthemostpopularcontests,atanyrateamongthegirls,wasthearrivaloftheHallowe’enwitchplayedbyMrs.Goodbody,alocalcleaningwomanwho,notonlyhavingthenecessaryhookednoseandchinwhichalmostmet,wasadmirablyproficientinproducingasemi-cooingvoicewhichhaddefinitelysinisterundertonesandalsoproducedmagicaldoggerelrhymes.
“Nowthen,comealong,Beatrice,isit?Ah,Beatrice.Averyinterestingname.Nowyouwanttoknowwhatyourhusbandisgoingtolooklike.Now,mydear,sithere.Yes,yes,underthislighthere.Sithereandholdthislittlemirrorinyourhand,andpresentlywhenthelightsgooutyou’llseehimappear.You’llseehimlookingoveryourshoulder.Nowholdthemirrorsteady.Abracadabra,whoshallsee?Thefaceofthemanwhowillmarryme.Beatrice,Beatrice,youshallfind,thefaceofthemanwhoshallpleaseyourmind.”
Asuddenshaftoflightshotacrosstheroomfromastep-ladder,placedbehindascreen.Ithittherightspotintheroom,whichwasreflectedinthemirrorgraspedinBeatrice’sexcitedhand.
“Oh!”criedBeatrice.“I’veseenhim.I’veseenhim!Icanseehiminmymirror!”
Thebeamwasshutoff,thelightscameonandacolouredphotographpastedonacardfloateddownfromtheceiling.Beatricedancedaboutexcitedly.
“Thatwashim!Thatwashim!Isawhim,”shecried.“Oh,he’sgotalovelygingerbeard.”
SherushedtoMrs.Oliver,whowasthenearestperson.
“Dolook,dolook.Don’tyouthinkhe’sratherwonderful?He’slikeEddiePresweight,thepopsinger.Don’tyouthinkso?”
Mrs.Oliverdidthinkhelookedlikeoneofthefacesshedailydeploredhavingtoseeinhermorningpaper.Thebeard,shethought,hadbeenanafterthoughtofgenius.
“Wheredoallthesethingscomefrom?”sheasked.
“Oh,RowenagetsNickytomakethem.AndhisfriendDesmondhelps.Heexperimentsagooddealwithphotography.Heandacoupleofpalsofhismadethemselvesup,withagreatdealofhairorsideburnsorbeardsandthings.Andthenwiththelightonhimandeverything,ofcourseitsendsthegirlswildwithdelight.”
“Ican’thelpthinking,”saidAriadneOliver,“thatgirlsarereallyverysillynowadays.”
“Don’tyouthinktheyalwayswere?”askedRowenaDrake.
Mrs.Oliverconsidered.
“Isupposeyou’reright,”sheadmitted.
“Nowthen,”criedMrs.Drake—“supper.”
Supperwentoffwell.Richicedcakes,savouries,prawns,cheeseandnutconfections.Theeleven-plusesstuffedthemselves.
“Andnow,”saidRowena,“thelastonefortheevening.Snapdragon.Acrossthere,throughthepantry.That’sright.Nowthen.Prizesfirst.”
Theprizeswerepresented,andthentherewasawailing,bansheecall.Thechildrenrushedacrossthehallbacktothediningroom.
Thefoodhadbeenclearedaway.Agreenbaizeclothwaslaidacrossthetableandherewasborneagreatdishofflamingraisins.Everybodyshrieked,rushingforward,snatchingtheblazingraisins,withcriesof“Ow,I’mburned!Isn’titlovely?”LittlebylittletheSnapdragonflickeredanddieddown.Thelightswentup.Thepartywasover.
“It’sbeenagreatsuccess,”saidRowena.
“Soitshouldbewithallthetroubleyou’vetaken.”
“Itwaslovely,”saidJudithquietly.“Lovely.”
“Andnow,”sheaddedruefully,“we’llhavetoclearupabit.Wecan’tleaveeverythingforthosepoorwomentomorrowmorning.”
Three
InaflatinLondonthetelephonebellrang.Theowneroftheflat,HerculePoirot,stirredinhischair.Disappointmentattackedhim.Heknewbeforeheanswereditwhatitmeant.HisfriendSolly,withwhomhehadbeengoingtospendtheevening,revivingtheirnever-endingcontroversyabouttherealculpritintheCanningRoadMunicipalBathsmurder,wasabouttosaythathecouldnotcome.Poirot,whohadcollectedcertainbitsofevidenceinfavourofhisownsomewhatfar-fetchedtheory,wasdeeplydisappointed.HedidnotthinkhisfriendSollywouldaccepthissuggestions,buthehadnodoubtthatwhenSollyinhisturnproducedhisownfantasticbeliefs,hehimself,HerculePoirot,wouldjustaseasilybeabletodemolishtheminthenameofsanity,logic,orderandmethod.Itwasannoying,tosaytheleastofit,ifSollydidnotcomethisevening.Butitistruethatwhentheyhadmetearlierintheday,Sollyhadbeenrackedwithachestycoughandwasinastateofhighlyinfectiouscatarrh.
“Hehadanastycold,”saidHerculePoirot,“andnodoubt,inspiteoftheremediesthatIhavehandyhere,hewouldprobablyhavegivenittome.Itisbetterthatheshouldnotcome.Toutdemême,”headded,withasigh,“itwillmeanthatnowIshallpassadullevening.”
Manyoftheeveningsweredullnow,HerculePoirotthought.Hismind,magnificentasitwas(forhehadneverdoubtedthatfact)requiredstimulationfromoutsidesources.Hehadneverbeenofaphilosophiccastofmind.Thereweretimeswhenhealmostregrettedthathehadnottakentothestudyoftheologyinsteadofgoingintothepoliceforceinhisearlydays.Thenumberofangelswhocoulddanceonthepointofaneedle;itwouldbeinterestingtofeelthatthatmatteredandtoarguepassionatelyonthepointwithone’scolleagues.
Hismanservant,George,enteredtheroom.
“ItwasMr.SolomonLevy,sir.”
“Ahyes,”saidHerculePoirot.
“Heverymuchregretsthathewillnotbeabletojoinyouthisevening.Heisinbedwithaseriousboutof’flu.”
“Hehasnotgot’flu,”saidHerculePoirot.“Hehasonlyanastycold.Everyonealwaysthinkstheyhave’flu.Itsoundsmoreimportant.Onegetsmoresympathy.Thetroublewithacatarrhalcoldisthatitishardtogleantheproperamountofsympatheticconsiderationfromone’sfriends.”
“Justaswellheisn’tcominghere,sir,really,”saidGeorge.“Thosecoldsintheheadareveryinfectious.Wouldn’tbegoodforyoutogodownwithoneofthose.”
“Itwouldbeextremelytedious,”Poirotagreed.
Thetelephonebellrangagain.
“Andnowwhohasacold?”hedemanded.“Ihavenotaskedanyoneelse.”
Georgecrossedtowardsthetelephone.
“Iwilltakethecallhere,”saidPoirot.“Ihavenodoubtthatitisnothingofinterest.Butatanyrate—”heshruggedhisshoulders“—itwillperhapspassthetime.Whoknows?”
Georgesaid,“Verygood,sir,”andlefttheroom.
Poirotstretchedoutahand,raisedthereceiver,thusstillingtheclamourofthebell.
“HerculePoirotspeaks,”hesaid,withacertaingrandeurofmannerdesignedtoimpresswhoeverwasattheotherendoftheline.
“That’swonderful,”saidaneagervoice.Afemalevoice,slightlyimpairedwithbreathlessness.“Ithoughtyou’dbesuretobeout,thatyouwouldn’tbethere.”
“Whyshouldyouthinkthat?”inquiredPoirot.
“BecauseIcan’thelpfeelingthatnowadaysthingsalwayshappentofrustrateone.Youwantsomeoneinaterriblehurry,youfeelyoucan’twait,andyouhavetowait.Iwantedtogetholdofyouurgently—absolutelyurgently.”
“Andwhoareyou?”askedHerculePoirot.
Thevoice,afemaleone,seemedsurprised.
“Don’tyouknow?”itsaidincredulously.
“Yes,Iknow,”saidHerculePoirot.“Youaremyfriend,Ariadne.”
“AndI’minaterriblestate,”saidAriadne.
“Yes,yes,Icanhearthat.Haveyoualsobeenrunning?Youareverybreathless,areyounot?”
“Ihaven’texactlybeenrunning.It’semotion.CanIcomeandseeyouatonce?”
Poirotletafewmomentselapsebeforeheanswered.Hisfriend,Mrs.Oliver,soundedinahighlyexcitablecondition.Whateverwasthematterwithher,shewouldnodoubtspendaverylongtimepouringouthergrievances,herwoes,herfrustrationsorwhateverwasailingher.OncehavingestablishedherselfwithinPoirot’ssanctum,itmightbehardtoinducehertogohomewithoutacertainamountofimpoliteness.ThethingsthatexcitedMrs.Oliverweresonumerousandfrequentlysounexpectedthatonehadtobecarefulhowoneembarkeduponadiscussionofthem.
“Somethinghasupsetyou?”
“Yes.OfcourseI’mupset.Idon’tknowwhattodo.Idon’tknow—oh,Idon’tknowanything.WhatIfeelisthatI’vegottocomeandtellyou—tellyoujustwhat’shappened,foryou’retheonlypersonwhomightknowwhattodo.WhomighttellmewhatIoughttodo.SocanIcome?”
“Butcertainly,butcertainly.Ishallbedelightedtoreceiveyou.”
ThereceiverwasthrowndownheavilyattheotherendandPoirotsummonedGeorge,reflectedafewminutes,thenorderedlemonbarleywater,bitterlemonandaglassofbrandyforhimself.
“Mrs.Oliverwillbehereinabouttenminutes,”hesaid.
Georgewithdrew.HereturnedwiththebrandyforPoirot,whoaccepteditwithanodofsatisfaction,andGeorgethenproceededtoprovidetheteetotalrefreshmentthatwastheonlythinglikelytoappealtoMrs.Oliver.Poirottookasipofbrandydelicately,fortifyinghimselffortheordealwhichwasabouttodescenduponhim.
“It’sapity,”hemurmuredtohimself,“thatsheissoscatty.Andyet,shehasoriginalityofmind.ItcouldbethatIamgoingtoenjoywhatsheiscomingtotellme.Itcouldbe—”hereflectedaminute“—thatitmaytakeagreatdealoftheeveningandthatitwillallbeexcessivelyfoolish.Ehbien,onemusttakeone’srisksinlife.”
Abellsounded.Abellontheoutsidedooroftheflatthistime.Itwasnotasinglepressureofthebutton.Itlastedforalongtimewithakindofsteadyactionthatwasveryeffective,thesheermakingofnoise.
“Assuredly,shehasexcitedherself,”saidPoirot.
HeheardGeorgegotothedoor,openit,andbeforeanydecorousannouncementcouldbemadethedoorofhissittingroomopenedandAriadneOliverchargedthroughit,withGeorgeintowbehindher,hangingontosomethingthatlookedlikeafisherman’ssou’westerandoilskins.
“Whatonearthareyouwearing?”saidHerculePoirot.“LetGeorgetakeitfromyou.It’sverywet.”
“Ofcourseit’swet,”saidMrs.Oliver.“It’sverywetout.Ineverthoughtaboutwaterbefore.It’saterriblethingtothinkof.”
Poirotlookedatherwithinterest.
“Willyouhavesomelemonbarleywater,”hesaid,“orcouldIpersuadeyoutoasmallglassofeaudevie?”
“Ihatewater,”saidMrs.Oliver.
Poirotlookedsurprised.
“Ihateit.I’veneverthoughtaboutitbefore.Whatitcando,andeverything.”
“Mydearfriend,”saidHerculePoirot,asGeorgeextricatedherfromtheflappingfoldsofwateryoilskin.“Comeandsitdownhere.LetGeorgefinallyrelieveyouof—whatisityouarewearing?”
“IgotitinCornwall,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Oilskins.Areal,properfisherman’soilskin.”
“Veryusefultohim,nodoubt,”saidPoirot,“butnot,Ithink,sosuitableforyou.Heavytowear.Butcome—sitdownandtellme.”
“Idon’tknowhow,”saidMrs.Oliver,sinkingintoachair.“Sometimes,youknow,Ican’tfeelit’sreallytrue.Butithappened.Itreallyhappened.”
“Tellme,”saidPoirot.
“That’swhatI’vecomefor.ButnowI’vegothere,it’ssodifficultbecauseIdon’tknowwheretobegin.”
“Atthebeginning?”suggestedPoirot,“oristhattooconventionalawayofacting?”
“Idon’tknowwhenthebeginningwas.Notreally.Itcouldhavebeenalongtimeago,youknow.”
“Calmyourself,”saidPoirot.“Gathertogetherthevariousthreadsofthismatterinyourmindandtellme.Whatisitthathassoupsetyou?”
“Itwouldhaveupsetyou,too,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Atleast,Isupposeitwould.”Shelookedratherdoubtful.“Onedoesn’tknow,really,whatdoesupsetyou.Youtakesomanythingswithalotofcalm.”
“Itisoftenthebestway,”saidPoirot.
“Allright,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Itbeganwithaparty.”
“Ahyes,”saidPoirot,relievedtohavesomethingasordinaryandsaneasapartypresentedtohim.“Aparty.Youwenttoapartyandsomethinghappened.”
“DoyouknowwhataHallowe’enpartyis?”saidMrs.Oliver.
“IknowwhatHallowe’enis,”saidPoirot.“The31stofOctober.”Hetwinkledslightlyashesaid,“Whenwitchesrideonbroomsticks.”
“Therewerebroomsticks,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Theygaveprizesforthem.”
“Prizes?”
“Yes,forwhobroughtthebestdecoratedones.”
Poirotlookedatherratherdoubtfully.Originallyrelievedatthementionofaparty,henowagainfeltslightlydoubtful.SinceheknewthatMrs.Oliverdidnotpartakeofspirituousliquor,hecouldnotmakeoneoftheassumptionsthathemighthavemadeinanyothercase.
“Achildren’sparty,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Orrather,aneleven-plusparty.”
“Eleven-plus?”
“Well,that’swhattheyusedtocallit,youknow,inschools.Imeantheyseehowbrightyouare,andifyou’rebrightenoughtopassyoureleven-plus,yougoontoagrammarschoolorsomething.Butifyou’renotbrightenough,yougotosomethingcalledaSecondaryModern.Asillyname.Itdoesn’tseemtomeananything.”
“Idonot,Iconfess,reallyunderstandwhatyouaretalkingabout,”saidPoirot.Theyseemedtohavegotawayfrompartiesandenteredintotherealmsofeducation.
Mrs.Olivertookadeepbreathandbeganagain.
“Itstartedreally,”shesaid,“withtheapples.”
“Ahyes,”saidPoirot,“itwould.Italwaysmightwithyou,mightn’tit?”
Hewasthinkingtohimselfofasmallcaronahillandalargewomangettingoutofit,andabagofapplesbreaking,andtheapplesrunningandcascadingdownthehill.
“Yes,”hesaidencouragingly,“apples.”
“Bobbingforapples,”saidMrs.Oliver.“That’soneofthethingsyoudoataHallowe’enparty.”
“Ahyes,IthinkIhaveheardofthat,yes.”
“Yousee,allsortsofthingswerebeingdone.Therewasbobbingforapples,andcuttingsixpenceoffatumblerfulofflour,andlookinginalookingglass—”
“Toseeyourtruelove’sface?”suggestedPoirotknowledgeably.
“Ah,”saidMrs.Oliver,“you’rebeginningtounderstandatlast.”
“Alotofoldfolklore,infact,”saidPoirot,“andthisalltookplaceatyourparty.”
“Yes,itwasallagreatsuccess.ItfinishedupwithSnapdragon.Youknow,burningraisinsinagreatdish.Isuppose—”hervoicefaltered,“—Isupposethatmustbetheactualtimewhenitwasdone.”
“Whenwhatwasdone?”
“Amurder.AftertheSnapdragoneveryonewenthome,”saidMrs.Oliver.“That,yousee,waswhentheycouldn’tfindher.”
“Findwhom?”
“Agirl.AgirlcalledJoyce.Everyonecalledhernameandlookedaroundandaskedifshe’dgonehomewithanyoneelse,andhermothergotratherannoyedandsaidthatJoycemusthavefelttiredorillorsomethingandgoneoffbyherself,andthatitwasverythoughtlessofhernottoleaveword.Allthesortofthingsthatmotherssaywhenthingslikethathappen.Butanyway,wecouldn’tfindJoyce.”
“Andhadshegonehomebyherself?”
“No,”saidMrs.Oliver,“shehadn’tgonehome…”Hervoicefaltered.“Wefoundherintheend—inthelibrary.That’swhere—wheresomeonedidit,youknow.Bobbingforapples.Thebucketwasthere.Abig,galvanizedbucket.Theywouldn’thavetheplasticone.Perhapsifthey’dhadtheplasticoneitwouldn’thavehappened.Itwouldn’thavebeenheavyenough.Itmighthavetippedover—”
“Whathappened?”saidPoirot.Hisvoicewassharp.
“That’swhereshewasfound,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Someone,youknow,someonehadshovedherheaddownintothewaterwiththeapples.Shovedherdownandheldhertheresothatshewasdead,ofcourse.Drowned.Drowned.Justinagalvanizedironbucketnearlyfullofwater.Kneelingthere,stickingherheaddowntobobatanapple.Ihateapples,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Ineverwanttoseeanappleagain.”
Poirotlookedather.Hestretchedoutahandandfilledasmallglasswithcognac.
“Drinkthis,”hesaid.“Itwilldoyougood.”
Four
Mrs.Oliverputdowntheglassandwipedherlips.
“Youwereright,”shesaid.“That—thathelped.Iwasgettinghysterical.”
“Youhavehadagreatshock,Iseenow.Whendidthishappen?”
“Lastnight.Wasitonlylastnight?Yes,yes,ofcourse.”
“Andyoucametome.”
Itwasnotquiteaquestion,butitdisplayedadesireformoreinformationthanPoirothadyethad.
“Youcametome—why?”
“Ithoughtyoucouldhelp,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Yousee,it’s—it’snotsimple.”
“Itcouldbeanditcouldnot,”saidPoirot.“Alotdepends.Youmusttellmemore,youknow.Thepolice,Ipresume,areincharge.Adoctorwas,nodoubt,called.Whatdidhesay?”
“There’stobeaninquest,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Naturally.”
“Tomorroworthenextday.”
“Thisgirl,Joyce,howoldwasshe?”
“Idon’tknowexactly.Ishouldthinkperhapstwelveorthirteen.”
“Smallforherage?”
“No,no,Ishouldthinkrathermature,perhaps.Lumpy,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Well-developed?Youmeansexy-looking?”
“Yes,thatiswhatImean.ButIdon’tthinkthatwasthekindofcrimeitwas—Imeanthatwouldhavebeenmoresimple,wouldn’tit?”
“Itisthekindofcrime,”saidPoirot,“ofwhichonereadseverydayinthepaper.Agirlwhoisattacked,aschoolchildwhoisassaulted—yes,everyday.Thishappenedinaprivatehousewhichmakesitdifferent,butperhapsnotsodifferentasallthat.Butallthesame,I’mnotsureyetthatyou’vetoldmeeverything.”
“No,Idon’tsupposeIhave,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Ihaven’ttoldyouthereason,Imean,whyIcametoyou.”
“YouknewthisJoyce,youknewherwell?”
“Ididn’tknowheratall.I’dbetterexplaintoyou,Ithink,justhowIcametobethere.”
“Thereiswhere?”
“Oh,aplacecalledWoodleighCommon.”
“WoodleighCommon,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.“Nowwherelately—”hebrokeoff.
“It’snotveryfarfromLondon.About—oh,thirtytofortymiles,Ithink.It’snearMedchester.It’soneofthoseplaceswherethereareafewnicehouses,butwhereacertainamountofnewbuildinghasbeendone.Residential.Agoodschoolnearby,andpeoplecancommutefromtheretoLondonorintoMedchester.It’squiteanordinarysortofplacewherepeoplewithwhatyoumightcalleverydayreasonableincomeslive.”
“WoodleighCommon,”saidPoirotagain,thoughtfully.
“Iwasstayingwithafriendthere.JudithButler.She’sawidow.IwentonaHelleniccruisethisyearandJudithwasonthecruiseandwebecamefriends.She’sgotadaughter.AgirlcalledMirandawhoistwelveorthirteen.Anyway,sheaskedmetocomeandstayandshesaidfriendsofhersweregivingthispartyforchildren,anditwastobeaHallowe’enparty.ShesaidperhapsIhadsomeinterestingideas.”
“Ah,”saidPoirot,“shedidnotsuggestthistimethatyoushouldarrangeamurderhuntoranythingofthatkind?”
“Goodgracious,no,”saidMrs.Oliver.“DoyouthinkIshouldeverconsidersuchathingagain?”
“Ishouldthinkitunlikely.”
“Butithappened,that’swhat’ssoawful,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Imean,itcouldn’thavehappenedjustbecauseIwasthere,couldit?”
“Idonotthinkso.Atleast—Didanyofthepeopleatthepartyknowwhoyouwere?”
“Yes,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Oneofthechildrensaidsomethingaboutmywritingbooksandthattheylikedmurders.That’showit—well—that’swhatledtothething—Imeantothethingthatmademecometoyou.”
“Whichyoustillhaven’ttoldme.”
“Well,yousee,atfirstIdidn’tthinkofit.Notstraightaway.Imean,childrendoqueerthingssometimes.Imeantherearequeerchildrenabout,childrenwho—well,onceIsupposetheywouldhavebeeninmentalhomesandthings,buttheysendthemhomenowandtellthemtoleadordinarylivesorsomething,andthentheygoanddosomethinglikethis.”
“Thereweresomeyoungadolescentsthere?”
“Thereweretwoboys,oryouthsastheyalwaysseemtocalltheminpolicereports.Aboutsixteentoeighteen.”
“Isupposeoneofthemmighthavedoneit.Isthatwhatthepolicethink?”
“Theydon’tsaywhattheythink,”saidMrs.Oliver,“buttheylookedasthoughtheymightthinkso.”
“WasthisJoyceanattractivegirl?”
“Idon’tthinkso,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Youmeanattractivetoboys,doyou?”
“No,”saidPoirot,“IthinkImeant—well,justtheplainsimplemeaningoftheword.”
“Idon’tthinkshewasaverynicegirl,”saidMrs.Oliver,“notoneyou’dwanttotalktomuch.Shewasthesortofgirlwhoshowsoffandboasts.It’sarathertiresomeage,Ithink.ItsoundsunkindwhatI’msaying,but—”
“Itisnotunkindinmurdertosaywhatthevictimwaslike,”saidPoirot.“Itisvery,verynecessary.Thepersonalityofthevictimisthecauseofmanyamurder.Howmanypeoplewerethereinthehouseatthetime?”
“Youmeanforthepartyandsoon?Well,Isupposetherewerefiveorsixwomen,somemothers,aschoolteacher,adoctor’swife,orsister,Ithink,acoupleofmiddle-agedmarriedpeople,thetwoboysofsixteentoeighteen,agirloffifteen,twoorthreeofelevenortwelve—wellthatsortofthing.Abouttwenty-fiveorthirtyinall,perhaps.”
“Anystrangers?”
“Theyallkneweachother,Ithink.Somebetterthanothers.Ithinkthegirlsweremostlyinthesameschool.Therewereacoupleofwomenwhohadcomeintohelpwiththefoodandthesupperandthingslikethat.Whenthepartyended,mostofthemotherswenthomewiththeirchildren.IstayedbehindwithJudithandacoupleofotherstohelpRowenaDrake,thewomanwhogavetheparty,toclearupabit,sothecleaningwomenwhocameinthemorningwouldn’thavesomuchmesstodealwith.Youknow,therewasalotofflourabout,andpapercapsoutofcrackersanddifferentthings.Sowesweptupabit,andwegottothelibrarylastofall.Andthat’swhen—whenwefoundher.AndthenIrememberedwhatshe’dsaid.”
“Whatwhohadsaid?”
“Joyce.”
“Whatdidshesay?Wearecomingtoitnow,arewenot?Wearecomingtothereasonwhyyouarehere?”
“Yes.Ithoughtitwouldn’tmeananythingto—oh,toadoctororthepoliceoranyone,butIthoughtitmightmeansomethingtoyou.”
“Ehbien,”saidPoirot,“tellme.WasthissomethingJoycesaidattheparty?”
“No—earlierintheday.Thatafternoonwhenwewerefixingthingsup.Itwasafterthey’dtalkedaboutmywritingmurderstoriesandJoycesaid‘Isawamurderonce’andhermotherorsomebodysaid‘Don’tbesilly,Joyce,sayingthingslikethat’andoneoftheoldergirlssaid‘You’rejustmakingitup’andJoycesaid‘Idid.IsawitItellyou.Idid.Isawsomeonedoamurder,’butnoonebelievedher.Theyjustlaughedandshegotveryangry.”
“Didyoubelieveher?”
“No,ofcoursenot.”
“Isee,”saidPoirot,“yes,Isee.”Hewassilentforsomemoments,tappingafingeronthetable.Thenhesaid:“Iwonder—shegavenodetails—nonames?”
“No.Shewentonboastingandshoutingabitandbeingangrybecausemostoftheothergirlswerelaughingather.Themothers,Ithink,andtheolderpeople,wererathercrosswithher.Butthegirlsandtheyoungerboysjustlaughedather!Theysaidthingslike‘Goon,Joyce,whenwasthis?Whydidyounevertellusaboutit?’AndJoycesaid,‘I’dforgottenallaboutit,itwassolongago.’”
“Aha!Didshesayhowlongago?”
“‘Yearsago,’”shesaid.Youknow,inratherawould-begrown-upway.
“‘Whydidn’tyougoandtellthepolicethen?’oneofthegirlssaid.Ann,Ithink,orBeatrice.Ratherasmug,superiorgirl.”
“Aha,andwhatdidshesaytothat?”
“Shesaid:‘BecauseIdidn’tknowatthetimeitwasamurder.’”
“Averyinterestingremark,”saidPoirot,sittingupratherstraighterinhischair.
“She’dgotabitmixedupbythen,Ithink,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Youknow,tryingtoexplainherselfandgettingangrybecausetheywereallteasingher.
“Theykeptaskingherwhyshehadn’tgonetothepolice,andshekeptonsaying‘BecauseIdidn’tknowthenthatitwasamurder.Itwasn’tuntilafterwardsthatitcametomequitesuddenlythatthatwaswhatIhadseen.’”
“Butnobodyshowedanysignsofbelievingher—andyouyourselfdidnotbelieveher—butwhenyoucameacrossherdeadyousuddenlyfeltthatshemighthavebeenspeakingthetruth?”
“Yes,justthat.Ididn’tknowwhatIoughttodo,orwhatIcoulddo.Butthen,later,Ithoughtofyou.”
Poirotbowedhisheadgravelyinacknowledgement.Hewassilentforamomentortwo,thenhesaid:
“Imustposetoyouaseriousquestion,andreflectbeforeyouanswerit.Doyouthinkthatthisgirlhadreallyseenamurder?Ordoyouthinkthatshemerelybelievedthatshehadseenamurder?”
“Thefirst,Ithink,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Ididn’tatthetime.Ijustthoughtthatshewasvaguelyrememberingsomethingshehadonceseenandwasworkingituptomakeitsoundimportantandexciting.Shebecameveryvehement,saying,‘Ididseeit,Itellyou.Ididseeithappen.’”
“Andso.”
“AndsoI’vecomealongtoyou,”saidMrs.Oliver,“becausetheonlywayherdeathmakessenseisthattherereallywasamurderandthatshewasawitnesstoit.”
“Thatwouldinvolvecertainthings.Itwouldinvolvethatoneofthepeoplewhowereatthepartycommittedthemurder,andthatthatsamepersonmustalsohavebeenthereearlierthatdayandhaveheardwhatJoycesaid.”
“Youdon’tthinkI’mjustimaginingthings,doyou?”saidMrs.Oliver.“Doyouthinkthatitisalljustmyveryfar-fetchedimagination?”
“Agirlwasmurdered,”saidPoirot.“Murderedbysomeonewhohadstrengthenoughtoholdherheaddowninabucketofwater.Anuglymurderandamurderthatwascommittedwithwhatwemightcall,notimetolose.Somebodywasthreatened,andwhoeveritwasstruckassoonasitwashumanlypossible.”
“Joycecouldnothaveknownwhoitwaswhodidthemurdershesaw,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Imeanshewouldn’thavesaidwhatshedidiftherewassomeoneactuallyintheroomwhowasconcerned.”
“No,”saidPoirot,“Ithinkyouarerightthere.Shesawamurder,butshedidnotseethemurderer’sface.Wehavetogobeyondthat.”
“Idon’tunderstandexactlywhatyoumean.”
“ItcouldbethatsomeonewhowasthereearlierinthedayandheardJoyce’saccusationknewaboutthemurder,knewwhocommittedthemurder,perhapswascloselyinvolvedwiththatperson.Itmayhavebeenthatsomeonethoughthewastheonlypersonwhoknewwhathiswifehaddone,orhismotherorhisdaughterorhisson.Oritmighthavebeenawomanwhoknewwhatherhusbandormotherordaughterorsonhaddone.Someonewhothoughtthatnooneelseknew.AndthenJoycebegantalking….”
“Andso—”
“Joycehadtodie?”
“Yes.Whatareyougoingtodo?”
“Ihavejustremembered,”saidHerculePoirot,“whythenameofWoodleighCommonwasfamiliartome.”
Five
HerculePoirotlookedoverthesmallgatewhichgaveadmissiontoPineCrest.Itwasamodern,perkylittlehouse,nicelybuilt.HerculePoirotwasslightlyoutofbreath.Thesmall,neathouseinfrontofhimwasverysuitablynamed.Itwasonahilltop,andthehilltopwasplantedwithafewsparsepines.Ithadasmallneatgardenandalargeelderlymanwastrundlingalongapathabigtingalvanizedwaterer.
SuperintendentSpence’shairwasnowgreyalloverinsteadofhavinganeattouchofgreyhairatthetemples.Hehadnotshrunkmuchingirth.Hestoppedtrundlinghiscanandlookedatthevisitoratthegate.HerculePoirotstoodtherewithoutmoving.
“Godblessmysoul,”saidSuperintendentSpence.“Itmustbe.Itcan’tbebutitis.Yes,itmustbe.HerculePoirot,asIlive.”
“Aha,”saidHerculePoirot,“youknowme.Thatisgratifying.”
“Mayyourmoustachesnevergrowless,”saidSpence.
Heabandonedthewateringcanandcamedowntothegate.
“Diabolicalweeds,”hesaid.“Andwhatbringsyoudownhere?”
“Whathasbroughtmetomanyplacesinmytime,”saidHerculePoirot,“andwhatonceagoodmanyyearsagobroughtyoutoseeme.Murder.”
“I’vedonewithmurder,”saidSpence,“exceptinthecaseofweeds.That’swhatI’mdoingnow.Applyingweedkiller.Neversoeasyasyouthink,something’salwayswrong,usuallytheweather.Mustn’tbetoowet,mustn’tbetoodryandalltherestofit.Howdidyouknowwheretofindme?”heaskedasheunlatchedthegateandPoirotpassedthrough
“YousentmeaChristmascard.Ithadyournewaddressnotifiedonit.”
“Ahyes,soIdid.I’mold-fashioned,youknow.IliketosendroundcardsatChristmastimetoafewoldfriends.”
“Iappreciatethat,”saidPoirot.
Spencesaid,“I’manoldmannow.”
“Wearebotholdmen.”
“Notmuchgreyinyourhair,”saidSpence.
“Iattendtothatwithabottle,”saidHerculePoirot.“Thereisnoneedtoappearinpublicwithgreyhairunlessyouwishtodoso.”
“Well,Idon’tthinkjetblackwouldsuitme,”saidSpence.
“Iagree,”saidPoirot.“Youlookmostdistinguishedwithgreyhair.”
“Ishouldneverthinkofmyselfasadistinguishedman.”
“Ithinkofyouassuch.WhyhaveyoucometoliveinWoodleighCommon?”
“Asamatteroffact,Icameheretojoinforceswithasisterofmine.Shelostherhusband,herchildrenaremarriedandlivingabroad,oneinAustraliaandtheotherinSouthAfrica.SoImovedinhere.Pensionsdon’tgofarnowadays,butwedoprettycomfortablylivingtogether.Comeandsitdown.”
Heledthewayontothesmallglazed-inverandahwheretherewerechairsandatableortwo.Theautumnsunfellpleasantlyuponthisretreat.
“WhatshallIgetyou?”saidSpence.“Nofancystuffhere,I’mafraid.Noblackcurrantorrosehipsyruporanyofyourpatentthings.Beer?OrshallIgetElspethtomakeyouacupoftea?OrIcandoyouashandyorCoca-Colaorsomecocoaifyoulikeit.Mysister,Elspeth,isacocoadrinker.”
“Youareverykind.Forme,Ithinkashandy.Thegingerbeerandthebeer?Thatisright,isitnot?”
“Absolutelyso.”
Hewentintothehouseandreturnedshortlyafterwardscarryingtwolargeglassmugs.“I’mjoiningyou,”hesaid.
Hedrewachairuptothetableandsatdown,placingthetwoglassesinfrontofhimselfandPoirot.
“Whatwasityousaidjustnow?”hesaid,raisinghisglass.“Wewon’tsay‘Here’stocrime.’I’vedonewithcrime,andifyoumeanthecrimeIthinkyoudo,infactwhichIthinkyouhavetodo,becauseIdon’trecallanyothercrimejustlately.Idon’tliketheparticularformofmurderwe’vejusthad.”
“No.Idonotthinkyouwoulddoso.”
“Wearetalkingaboutthechildwhohadherheadshovedintoabucket?”
“Yes,”saidPoirot,“thatiswhatIamtalkingabout.”
“Idon’tknowwhyyoucometome,”saidSpence.“I’mnothingtodowiththepolicenowadays.Allthat’sovermanyyearsago.”
“Onceapoliceman,”saidHerculePoirot,“alwaysapoliceman.Thatistosay,thereisalwaysthepointofviewofthepolicemanbehindthepointofviewoftheordinaryman.Iknow,Iwhotalktoyou.I,too,startedinthepoliceforceinmycountry.”
“Yes,soyoudid.Iremembernowyourtellingme.Well,Isupposeone’soutlookisabitslanted,butit’salongtimesinceI’vehadanyactiveconnection.”
“Butyouhearthegossip,”saidPoirot.“Youhavefriendsofyourowntrade.Youwillhearwhattheythinkorsuspectorwhattheyknow.”
Spencesighed.
“Oneknowstoomuch,”hesaid,“thatisoneofthetroublesnowadays.Thereisacrime,acrimeofwhichthepatternisfamiliar,andyouknow,thatistosaytheactivepoliceofficersknow,prettywellwho’sprobablydonethatcrime.Theydon’ttellthenewspapersbuttheymaketheirinquiries,andtheyknow.Butwhetherthey’regoingtogetanyfurtherthanthat—well,thingshavetheirdifficulties.”
“Youmeanthewivesandthegirlfriendsandtherestofit?”
“Partlythat,yes.Intheend,perhaps,onegetsone’sman.Sometimesayearortwopasses.I’dsay,youknow,roughly,Poirot,thatmoregirlsnowadaysmarrywrong’unsthantheyeverusedtoinmytime.”
HerculePoirotconsidered,pullinghismoustaches.
“Yes,”hesaid,“Icanseethatthatmightbeso.Isuspectthatgirlshavealwaysbeenpartialtothebadlots,asyousay,butinthepastthereweresafeguards.”
“That’sright.Peoplewerelookingafterthem.Theirmotherslookedafterthem.Theirauntsandtheiroldersisterslookedafterthem.Theiryoungersistersandbrothersknewwhatwasgoingon.Theirfatherswerenotaversetokickingthewrongyoungmenoutofthehouse.Sometimes,ofcourse,thegirlsusedtorunawaywithoneofthebadlots.Nowadaysthere’snoneedeventodothat.Motherdoesn’tknowwhothegirl’soutwith,father’snottoldwhothegirlisoutwith,brothersknowwhothegirlisoutwithbuttheythink‘morefoolher.’Iftheparentsrefuseconsent,thecouplegobeforeamagistrateandmanagetogetpermissiontomarry,andthenwhentheyoungmanwhoeveryoneknowsisabadlotproceedstoprovetoeverybody,includinghiswife,thatheisabadlot,thefat’sinthefire!Butlove’slove;thegirldoesn’twanttothinkthatherHenryhastheserevoltinghabits,thesecriminaltendencies,andalltherestofit.She’lllieforhim,swearblack’swhiteforhimandeverythingelse.Yes,it’sdifficult.Difficultforus,Imean.Well,there’snogoodgoingonsayingthingswerebetterintheolddays.Perhapsweonlythoughtso.Anyway,Poirot,howdidyougetyourselfmixedupinallthis?Thisisn’tyourpartofthecountry,isit?AlwaysthoughtyoulivedinLondon.YouusedtowhenIknewyou.”
“IstillliveinLondon.Iinvolvedmyselfhereattherequestofafriend,Mrs.Oliver.YourememberMrs.Oliver?”
Spenceraisedhishead,closedhiseyesandappearedtoreflect.
“Mrs.Oliver?Can’tsaythatIdo.”
“Shewritesbooks.Detectivestories.Youmether,ifyouwillthrowyourmindback,duringthetimethatyoupersuadedmetoinvestigatethemurderofMrs.McGinty.YouwillnothaveforgottenMrs.McGinty?”
“Goodlord,no.Butitwasalongtimeago.Youdidmeagoodturnthere,Poirot,averygoodturn.Iwenttoyouforhelpandyoudidn’tletmedown.”
“Iwashonoured—flattered—thatyoushouldcometoconsultme,”saidPoirot.“ImustsaythatIdespairedonceortwice.Themanwehadtosave—tosavehisneckinthosedaysIbelieve,itislongagoenoughforthat—wasamanwhowasexcessivelydifficulttodoanythingfor.Thekindofstandardexampleofhownottodoanythingusefulforhimself.”
“Marriedthatgirl,didn’the?Thewetone.Notthebrightonewiththeperoxidehair.Wonderhowtheygotontogether.Haveyoueverheardaboutit?”
“No,”saidPoirot.“Ipresumeallgoeswellwiththem.”
“Can’tseewhatshesawinhim.”
“Itisdifficult,”saidPoirot,“butitisoneofthegreatconsolationsinnaturethataman,howeverunattractive,willfindthatheisattractive—tosomewoman.Onecanonlysayorhopethattheymarriedandlivedhappilyeverafterwards.”
“Shouldn’tthinktheylivedhappilyeverafterwardsiftheyhadtohaveMothertolivewiththem.”
“No,indeed,”saidPoirot.“OrStepfather,”headded.
“Well,”saidSpence,“herewearetalkingofolddaysagain.Allthat’sover.Ialwaysthoughtthatman,can’trememberhisnamenow,oughttohaverunanundertakingparlour.Hadjustthefaceandmannerforit.Perhapshedid.Thegirlhadsomemoney,didn’tshe?Yes,he’dhavemadeaverygoodundertaker.Icanseehim,allinblack,callingforordersforthefuneral.Perhapshecanevenhavebeenenthusiasticovertherightkindofelmorteakorwhatevertheyuseforcoffins.Buthe’dneverhavemadegoodsellinginsuranceorrealestate.Anyway,don’tlet’sharpback.”Thenhesaidsuddenly,“Mrs.Oliver.AriadneOliver.Apples.Isthathowshe’sgotherselfmixedupinthis?Thatpoorchildgotherheadshovedunderwaterinabucketoffloatingapples,didn’tshe,ataparty?IsthatwhatinterestedMrs.Oliver?”
“Idon’tthinkshewasparticularlyattractedbecauseoftheapples,”saidPoirot,“butshewasattheparty.”
“Doyousayshelivedhere?”
“No,shedoesnotlivehere.Shewasstayingwithafriend,aMrs.Butler.”
“Butler?Yes,Iknowher.Livesdownnotfarfromthechurch.Widow.Husbandwasanairlinepilot.Hasadaughter.Rathernice-lookinggirl.Prettymanners.Mrs.Butler’sratheranattractivewoman,don’tyouthinkso?”
“Ihaveasyetbarelymether,but,yes,Ithoughtshewasveryattractive.”
“Andhowdoesthisconcernyou,Poirot?Youweren’therewhenithappened?”
“No.Mrs.OlivercametomeinLondon.Shewasupset,veryupset.Shewantedmetodosomething.”
AfaintsmileshowedonSuperintendentSpence’sface.
“Isee.Sameoldstory.Icameuptoyou,too,becauseIwantedyoutodosomething.”
“AndIhavecarriedthingsonestepfurther,”saidPoirot.“Ihavecometoyou.”
“Becauseyouwantmetodosomething?Itellyou,there’snothingIcando.”
“Ohyesthereis.Youcantellmeallaboutthepeople.Thepeoplewholivehere.Thepeoplewhowenttothatparty.Thefathersandmothersofthechildrenwhowereattheparty.Theschool,theteachers,thelawyers,thedoctors.Somebody,duringaparty,inducedachildtokneeldown,andperhaps,laughing,saying:‘I’llshowyouthebestwaytogetholdofanapplewithyourteeth.Iknowthetrickofit.’Andthenheorshe—whoeveritwas—putahandonthatgirl’shead.Therewouldn’thavebeenmuchstruggleornoiseoranythingofthatkind.”
“Anastybusiness,”saidSpence.“IthoughtsowhenIheardaboutit.Whatdoyouwanttoknow?I’vebeenhereayear.Mysister’sbeenherelonger—twoorthreeyears.It’snotabigcommunity.It’snotaparticularlysettledoneeither.Peoplecomeandgo.ThehusbandhasajobineitherMedchesterorGreatCanning,oroneoftheotherplacesroundabout.Theirchildrengotoschoolhere.Thenperhapsthehusbandchangeshisjobandtheygosomewhereelse.It’snotafixedcommunity.Someofthepeoplehavebeenherealongtime,MissEmlyn,theschoolmistress,has,Dr.Fergusonhas.Butonthewhole,itfluctuatesabit.”
“Onesupposes,”saidHerculePoirot,“thathavingagreedwithyouthatthiswasanastybusiness,Imighthopethatyouwouldknowwhoarethenastypeoplehere.”
“Yes,”saidSpence.“It’sthefirstthingonelooksfor,isn’tit?Andthenextthingonelooksforisanastyadolescentinathingofthiskind.Whowantstostrangleordrownorgetridofalumpofagirlofthirteen?Theredoesn’tseemtohavebeenanyevidenceofasexualassaultoranythingofthatkind,whichwouldbethefirstthingonelooksfor.Plentyofthatsortofthingineverysmalltownorvillagenowadays.Thereagain,Ithinkthere’smoreofitthanthereusedtobeinmyyoungday.Wehadourmentallydisturbed,orwhatevertheycallthem,butnotsomanyaswehavenow.Iexpecttherearemoreofthemletoutoftheplacetheyoughttobekeptsafein.Allourmentalhomesaretoofull;overcrowded,sodoctorssay‘Lethimor
“Doesthatquitefitthepatternwehavehere?”
“Well,it’sthefirstthingonethinksof,”saidSpence.“Somebodywasatthepartywhohadtheurge,shallwesay.Perhapshe’ddoneitbefore,perhapshe’donlywantedtodoit.I’dsayroughlythattheremightbesomepasthistoryofassaultingachildsomewhere.AsfarasIknow,nobody’scomeupwithanythingofthatkind.Notofficially,Imean.Thereweretwointherightagegroupattheparty.NicholasRansom,nicelookinglad,seventeenoreighteen.He’dbetherightage.ComesfromtheEastCoastorsomewherelikethat,Ithink.Seemsallright.Looksnormalenough,butwhoknows?Andthere’sDesmond,remandedonceforapsychiatricreport,butIwouldn’tsaytherewasmuchtoit.It’sgottobesomeoneattheparty,thoughofcourseIsupposeanyonecouldhavecomeinfromoutside.Ahouseisn’tusuallylockedupduringaparty.There’sasidedooropen,orasidewindow.Oneofourhalf-bakedpeople,Isupposecouldhavecomealongtoseewhatwasonandsneakedin.Aprettybigrisktotake.Wouldachildagree,achildwho’dgonetoaparty,togoplayingapplegameswithanyoneshedidn’tknow?Anyway,youhaven’texplainedyet,Poirot,whatbringsyouintoit.YousaiditwasMrs.Oliver.Somewildideaofhers?”
“Notexactlyawildidea,”saidPoirot.“Itistruethatwritersarepronetowildideas.Ideas,perhaps,whichareonthefarsideofprobability.Butthiswassimplysomethingthatsheheardthegirlsay.”
“What,thechildJoyce?”
“Yes.”
SpenceleantforwardandlookedatPoirotinquiringly.
“Iwilltellyou,”saidPoirot.
QuietlyandsuccinctlyherecountedthestoryasMrs.Oliverhadtoldittohim.
“Isee,”saidSpence.Herubbedhismoustache.“Thegirlsaidthat,didshe?Saidshe’dseenamurdercommitted.Didshesaywhenorhow?”
“No,”saidPoirot.
“Whatleduptoit?”
“Someremark,Ithink,aboutthemurdersinMrs.Oliver’sbooks.SomebodysaidsomethingaboutittoMrs.Oliver.Oneofthechildren,Ithink,totheeffectthattherewasn’tenoughbloodinherbooksorenoughbodies.AndthenJoycespokeupandsaidshe’dseenamurderonce.”
“Boastedofit?That’stheimpressionyou’regivingme.”
“That’stheimpressionMrs.Olivergot.Yes,sheboastedofit.”
“Itmightn’thavebeentrue.”
“No,itmightnothavebeentrueatall,”saidPoirot.
“Childrenoftenmaketheseextravagantstatementswhentheywishtocallattentiontothemselvesortomakeaneffect.Ontheotherhand,itmighthavebeentrue.Isthatwhatyouthink?”
“Idonotknow,”saidPoirot.“Achildboastsofhavingwitnessedamurder.Onlyafewhourslater,thatchildisdead.Youmustadmitthattherearegroundsforbelievingthatitmight—it’safar-fetchedideaperhaps—butitmighthavebeencauseandeffect.Ifso,somebodylostnotime.”
“Definitely,”saidSpence.“Howmanywerepresentatthetimethegirlmadeherstatementremurder,doyouknowexactly?”
“AllthatMrs.Oliversaidwasthatshethoughttherewereaboutfourteenorfifteenpeople,perhapsmore.Fiveorsixchildren,fiveorsixgrown-upswhowererunningtheshow.ButforexactinformationImustrelyonyou.”
“Well,thatwillbeeasyenough,”saidSpence.“Idon’tsayIknowoffhandatthemoment,butit’seasilyobtainedfromthelocals.Astothepartyitself,Iknowprettywellalready.Apreponderanceofwomen,onthewhole.Fathersdon’tturnupmuchatchildren’sparties.Buttheylookin,sometimes,orcometotaketheirchildrenhome.Dr.Fergusonwasthere,thevicarwasthere.Otherwise,mothers,aunts,socialworkers,twoteachersfromtheschool.Oh,Icangiveyoualist—androughlyaboutfourteenchildren.Theyoungestnotmorethanten—runningonintoteenagers.”
“AndIsupposeyouwouldknowthelistofprobablesamongstthem?”saidPoirot.
“Well,itwon’tbesoeasynowifwhatyouthinkistrue.”
“Youmeanyouarenolongerlookingforasexuallydisturbedpersonality.Youarelookinginsteadforsomebodywhohascommittedamurderandgotawaywithit,someonewhoneverexpectedittobefoundoutandwhosuddenlygotanastyshock.”
“BlestifIcanthinkwhoitcouldhavebeen,allthesame,”saidSpence.“Ishouldn’thavesaidwehadanylikelymurderersroundhere.Andcertainlynothingspectacularinthewayofmurders.”
“Onecanhavelikelymurderersanywhere,”saidPoirot,“orshallIsayunlikelymurderers,butneverthelessmurderers.Becauseunlikelymurderersarenotsopronetobesuspected.Thereisprobablynotverymuchevidenceagainstthem,anditwouldbearudeshocktosuchamurderertofindthattherehadactuallybeenaneyewitnesstohisorhercrime.”
“Whydidn’tJoycesayanythingatthetime?That’swhatI’dliketoknow.Wasshebribedtosilencebysomeone,doyouthink?Tooriskysurely.”
“No,”saidPoirot.“IgatherfromwhatMrs.Olivermentionedthatshedidn’trecognizethatitwasamurdershewaslookingatatthetime.”
“Oh,surelythat’smostunlikely,”saidSpence.
“Notnecessarily,”saidPoirot.“Achildofthirteenwasspeaking.Shewasrememberingsomethingshe’dseeninthepast.Wedon’tknowexactlywhen.Itmighthavebeenthreeorevenfouryearspreviously.Shesawsomethingbutshedidn’trealizeitstruesignificance.Thatmightapplytoalotofthingsyouknow,moncher.Someratherpeculiarcaraccident.Acarwhereitappearedthatthedriverdrovestraightatthepersonwhowasinjuredorperhapskilled.Achildmightnotrealizeitwasdeliberateatthetime.Butsomethingsomeonesaid,orsomethingshesaworheardayearortwolatermightawakenhermemoryandshe’dthinkperhaps:‘AorBorXdiditonpurpose.’‘Perhapsitwasreallyamurder,notjustanaccident.’Andthereareplentyofotherpossibilities.SomeofthemIwilladmitsuggestedbymyfriend,Mrs.Oliver,whocaneasilycomeupwithabouttwelvedifferentsolutionstoeverything,mostofthemnotveryprobablebutallofthemfaintlypossible.Tabletsaddedtoacupofteaadministeredtosomeone.Roughlythatsortofthing.Apushperhapsonadangerousspot.Youhavenocliffshere,whichisratherapityfromthepointofviewoflikelytheories.Yes,Ithinktherecouldbeplentyofpossibilities.Perhapsitissomemurderstorythatthegirlreadswhichrecallstoheranincident.Itmayhavebeenanincidentthatpuzzledheratthetime,andshemight,whenshereadsthestory,say:‘Well,thatmighthavebeenso-and-soandso-and-so.Iwonderifheorshediditonpurpose?’Yes,therearealotofpossibilities.”
“Andyouhavecomeheretoinquireintothem?”
“Itwouldbeinthepublicinterest,Ithink,don’tyou?”saidPoirot.
“Ah,we’retobepublicspirited,arewe,youandI?”
“Youcanatleastgivemeinformation,”saidPoirot.“Youknowthepeoplehere.”
“I’lldowhatIcan,”saidSpence.“AndI’llropeinElspeth.There’snotmuchaboutpeopleshedoesn’tknow.”
Six
Satisfiedwithwhathehadachieved,Poirottookleaveofhisfriend.
Theinformationhewantedwouldbeforthcoming—hehadnodoubtastothat.HehadgotSpenceinterested.AndSpence,oncesetuponatrail,wasnotonetorelinquishit.Hisreputationasaretiredhigh-rankingofficeroftheC.I.D.wouldhavewonhimfriendsinthelocalpolicedepartmentsconcerned.
Andnext—Poirotconsultedhiswatch—hewastomeetMrs.Oliverinexactlytenminutes’timeoutsideahousecalledAppleTrees.Really,thenameseemeduncannilyappropriate.
Really,thoughtPoirot,onedidn’tseemabletogetawayfromapples.NothingcouldbemoreagreeablethanajuicyEnglishapple—Andyetherewereapplesmixedupwithbroomsticks,andwitches,andold-fashionedfolklore,andamurderedchild.
Followingtherouteindicatedtohim,PoirotarrivedtotheminuteoutsidearedbrickGeorgianstylehousewithaneatbeechhedgeenclosingit,andapleasantgardenshowingbeyond.
Heputhishandout,raisedthelatchandenteredthroughthewroughtirongatewhichboreapaintedboardlabelled“AppleTrees.”Apathleduptothefrontdoor.LookingratherlikeoneofthoseSwissclockswherefigurescomeoutautomaticallyofadoorabovetheclockface,thefrontdooropenedandMrs.Oliveremergedonthesteps.
“You’reabsolutelypunctual,”shesaidbreathlessly.“Iwaswatchingforyoufromthewindow.”
Poirotturnedandclosedthegatecarefullybehindhim.PracticallyoneveryoccasionthathehadmetMrs.Oliver,whetherbyappointmentorbyaccident,amotifofapplesseemedtobeintroducedalmostimmediately.Shewaseithereatinganappleorhadbeeneatinganapple—witnessanapplecorenestlingonherbroadchest—orwascarryingabagofapples.Buttodaytherewasnoappleinevidenceatall.Verycorrect,Poirotthoughtapprovingly.Itwouldhavebeeninverybadtastetobegnawinganapplehere,onthesceneofwhathadbeennotonlyacrimebutatragedy.Forwhatelsecanitbebutthat?thoughtPoirot.Thesuddendeathofachildofonlythirteenyearsold.Hedidnotliketothinkofit,andbecausehedidnotliketothinkofithewasallthemoredecidedinhismindthatthatwasexactlywhathewasgoingtothinkofuntilbysomemeansorother,lightshouldshineoutofthedarknessandheshouldseeclearlywhathehadcomeheretosee.
“Ican’tthinkwhyyouwouldn’tcomeandstaywithJudithButler,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Insteadofgoingtoafifth-classguesthouse.”
“BecauseitisbetterthatIshouldsurveythingswithacertaindegreeofaloofness,”saidPoirot.“Onemustnotgetinvolved,youcomprehend.”
“Idon’tseehowyoucanavoidgettinginvolved,”saidMrs.Oliver.“You’vegottoseeeveryoneandtalktothem,haven’tyou?”
“Thatmostdecidedly,”saidPoirot.
“Whohaveyouseensofar?”
“Myfriend,SuperintendentSpence.”
“What’shelikenowadays?”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Agooddealolderthanhewas,”saidPoirot.
“Naturally,”saidMrs.Oliver,“whatelsewouldyouexpect?Ishedeaferorblinderorfatterorthinner?”
Poirotconsidered.
“Hehaslostalittleweight.Hewearsspectaclesforreadingthepaper.Idonotthinkheisdeaf,nottoanynoticeableextent.”
“Andwhatdoeshethinkaboutitall?”
“Yougotooquickly,”saidPoirot.
“Andwhatexactlyareyouandhegoingtodo?”
“Ihaveplannedmyprogramme,”saidPoirot.“FirstIhaveseenandconsultedwithmyoldfriend.Iaskedhimtogetme,perhaps,someinformationthatwouldnotbeeasytogetotherwise.”
“Youmeanthepoliceherewillbehisbuddiesandhe’llgetalotofinsidestufffromthem?”
“Well,Ishouldnotputitexactlylikethat,butyes,thosearethelinesalongwhichIhavebeenthinking.”
“Andafterthat?”
“Icometomeetyouhere,Madame.Ihavetoseejustwherethisthinghappened.”
Mrs.Oliverturnedherheadandlookedupatthehouse.
“Itdoesn’tlookthesortofhousethere’dbeamurderin,doesit?”shesaid.
Poirotthoughtagain:Whatanunerringinstinctshehas!
“No,”hesaid,“itdoesnotlookatallthatsortofahouse.AfterIhaveseenwhere,thenIgowithyoutoseethemotherofthedeadchild.Ihearwhatshecantellme.ThisafternoonmyfriendSpenceismakinganappointmentformetotalkwiththelocalinspectoratasuitablehour.Ishouldalsolikeatalkwiththedoctorhere.Andpossiblytheheadmistressattheschool.Atsixo’clockIdrinkteaandeatsausageswithmyfriendSpenceandhissisteragainintheirhouseandwediscuss.”
“Whatmoredoyouthinkhe’llbeabletotellyou?”
“Iwanttomeethissister.Shehaslivedherelongerthanhehas.Hecameheretojoinherwhenherhusbanddied.Shewillknow,perhaps,thepeopleherefairlywell.”
“Doyouknowwhatyousoundlike?”saidMrs.Oliver.“Acomputer.Youknow.You’reprogrammingyourself.That’swhattheycallit,isn’tit?Imeanyou’refeedingallthesethingsintoyourselfalldayandthenyou’regoingtoseewhatcomesout.”
“Itiscertainlyanideayouhavethere,”saidPoirot,withsomeinterest.“Yes,yes,Iplaythepartofthecomputer.Onefeedsintheinformation—”
“Andsupposingyoucomeupwithallthewronganswers?”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Thatwouldbeimpossible,”saidHerculePoirot.“Computersdonotdothatsortofathing.”
“They’renotsupposedto,”saidMrs.Oliver,“butyou’dbesurprisedatthethingsthathappensometimes.Mylastelectriclightbill,forinstance.Iknowthere’saproverbwhichsays‘Toerrishuman,’butahumanerrorisnothingtowhatacomputercandoifittries.ComeoninandmeetMrs.Drake.”
Mrs.Drakewascertainlysomething,Poirotthought.Shewasatall,handsomewomanofforty-odd,hergoldenhairwaslightlytingedwithgrey,hereyeswerebrilliantlyblue,sheoozedcompetencefromthefingertipsdownwards.Anypartyshehadarrangedwouldhavebeenasuccessfulone.Inthedrawingroomatrayofmorningcoffeewithtwosugaredbiscuitswasawaitingthem.
AppleTrees,hesaw,wasamostadmirablykepthouse.Itwaswellfurnished,ithadcarpetsofexcellentquality,everythingwasscrupulouslypolishedandcleaned,andthefactthatithadhardlyanyoutstandingobjectofinterestinitwasnotreadilynoticeable.Onewouldnothaveexpectedit.Thecoloursofthecurtainsandthecoverswerepleasantbutconventional.Itcouldhavebeenletfurnishedatanymomentforahighrenttoadesirabletenant,withouthavingtoputawayanytreasuresormakeanyalterationstothearrangementofthefurniture.
Mrs.DrakegreetedMrs.OliverandPoirotandconcealedalmostentirelywhatPoirotcouldnothelpsuspectingwasafeelingofvigorouslysuppressedannoyanceatthepositioninwhichshefoundherselfasthehostessatasocialoccasionatwhichsomethingasantisocialasmurderhadoccurred.AsaprominentmemberofthecommunityofWoodleighCommon,hesuspectedthatshefeltanunhappysenseofhavingherselfinsomewayprovedinadequate.Whathadoccurredshouldnothaveoccurred.Tosomeoneelseinsomeoneelse’shouse—yes.Butatapartyforchildren,arrangedbyher,givenbyher,organizedbyher,nothinglikethisoughttohavehappened.Somehoworothersheoughttohaveseentoitthatitdidnothappen.AndPoirotalsohadasuspicionthatshewasseekingroundirritablyinthebackofhermindforareason.Notsomuchareasonformurderhavingtakenplace,buttofindoutandpindownsomeinadequacyonthepartofsomeonewhohadbeenhelpingherandwhohadbysomemismanagementorsomelackofperceptionfailedtorealizethatsomethinglikethiscouldhappen.
“MonsieurPoirot,”saidMrs.Drake,inherfinespeakingvoice,whichPoirotthoughtwouldcomeoverexcellentlyinasmalllectureroomorthevillagehall,“Iamsopleasedyoucouldcomedownhere.Mrs.Oliverhasbeentellingmehowinvaluableyourhelpwillbetousinthisterriblecrisis.”
“Restassured,Madame,IshalldowhatIcan,butasyounodoubtrealizefromyourexperienceoflife,itisgoingtobeadifficultbusiness.”
“Difficult?”saidMrs.Drake.“Ofcourseit’sgoingtobedifficult.Itseemsincredible,absolutelyincredible,thatsuchanawfulthingshouldhavehappened.Isuppose,”sheadded,“thepolicemayknowsomething?InspectorRaglanhasaverygoodreputationlocally,Ibelieve.WhetherornottheyoughttocallScotlandYardin,Idon’tknow.Theideaseemstobethatthispoorchild’sdeathmusthavehadalocalsignificance.Ineedn’ttellyou,MonsieurPoirot—afterall,youreadthepapersasmuchasIdo—thattherehavebeenverymanysadfatalitieswithchildrenalloverthecountryside.Theyseemtobegettingmoreandmorefrequent.Mentalinstabilityseemstobeontheincrease,thoughImustsaythatmothersandfamiliesgenerallyarenotlookingaftertheirchildrenproperly,astheyusedtodo.Childrenaresenthomefromschoolalone,ondarkevenings,goaloneondarkearlymornings.Andchildren,howevermuchyouwarnthem,areunfortunatelyveryfoolishwhenitcomestobeingofferedaliftinasmart-lookingcar.Theybelievewhatthey’retold.Isupposeonecannothelpthat.”
“Butwhathappenedhere,Madame,wasofanentirelydifferentnature.”
“Oh,Iknow—Iknow.ThatiswhyIusedthetermincredible.Istillcannotquitebelieveit,”saidMrs.Drake.“Everythingwasentirelyundercontrol.Allthearrangementsweremade.Everythingwasgoingperfectly,allaccordingtoplan.Itjustseems—seemsincredible.PersonallyIconsidermyselfthattheremustbewhatIcallanoutsidesignificancetothis.Someonewalkedintothehouse—notadifficultthingtodounderthecircumstances—someoneofhighlydisturbedmentality,Isuppose,thekindofpeoplewhoareletoutofmentalhomessimplybecausethereisnoroomforthemthere,asfarasIcansee.Nowadays,roomhastobemadeforfreshpatientsallthetime.Anyonepeepinginthroughawindowcouldseeachildren’spartywasgoingon,andthispoorwretch—ifonecanreallyfeelpityforthesepeople,whichIreallymustsayIfinditveryhardtodomyselfsometimes—enticedthischildawaysomehowandkilledher.Youcan’tthinksuchathingcouldhappen,butitdidhappen.”
“Perhapsyouwouldshowmewhere—”
“Ofcourse.Nomorecoffee?”
“Ithankyou,no.”
Mrs.Drakegotup.“ThepoliceseemtothinkittookplacewhiletheSnapdragonwasgoingon.Thatwastakingplaceinthediningroom.”
Shewalkedacrossthehall,openedthedoorand,ratherinthemannerofsomeonedoingthehonoursofastatelyhometoapartyofcharabancgoers,indicatedthelargediningtableandtheheavyvelvetcurtains.
“Itwasdarkhere,ofcourse,exceptfortheblazingdish.Andnow—”
Sheledthemacrossthehallandopenedthedoorofasmallroomwitharmchairs,sportingprintsandbookshelves.
“Thelibrary,”saidMrs.Drake,andshiveredalittle.“Thebucketwashere.Onaplasticsheet,ofcourse—”
Mrs.Oliverhadnotaccompaniedthemintotheroom.Shewasstandingoutsideinthehall—
“Ican’tcomein,”shesaidtoPoirot.“Itmakesmethinkofittoomuch.”
“There’snothingtoseenow,”saidMrs.Drake.“Imean,I’mjustshowingyouwhere,asyouasked.”
“Isuppose,”saidPoirot,“therewaswater—agooddealofwater.”
“Therewaswaterinthebucket,ofcourse,”saidMrs.Drake.
ShelookedatPoirotasthoughshethoughtthathewasnotquiteallthere.”
“Andtherewaswateronthesheet.Imean,ifthechild’sheadwaspushedunderwater,therewouldbealotofwatersplashedabout.”
“Ohyes.Evenwhilethebobbingwasgoingon,thebuckethadtobefilleduponceortwice.”
“Sothepersonwhodidit?Thatpersonalsowouldhavegotwet,onewouldthink.”
“Yes,yes,Isupposeso.”
“Thatwasnotspeciallynoticed?”
“No,no,theInspectoraskedmeaboutthat.Yousee,bytheendoftheeveningnearlyeveryonewasabitdishevelledordamporfloury.Theredoesn’tseemtobeanyusefulcluesthereatall.Imean,thepolicedidn’tthinkso.”
“No,”saidPoirot.“Isupposetheonlycluewasthechildherself.Ihopeyouwilltellmeallyouknowabouther.”
“AboutJoyce?”
Mrs.Drakelookedslightlytakenaback.ItwasasthoughJoyceinhermindhadbynowretreatedsofaroutofthingsthatshewasquitesurprisedtoberemindedofher.
“Thevictimisalwaysimportant,”saidPoirot.“Thevictim,yousee,issooftenthecauseofthecrime.”
“Well,Isuppose,yes,Iseewhatyoumean,”saidMrs.Drake,whoquiteplainlydidnot.“Shallwecomebacktothedrawingroom?”
“AndthenyouwilltellmeaboutJoyce,”saidPoirot.
Theysettledthemselvesoncemoreinthedrawingroom.
Mrs.Drakewaslookinguncomfortable.
“Idon’tknowreallywhatyouexpectmetosay,MonsieurPoirot,”shesaid.“SurelyallinformationcanbeobtainedquiteeasilyfromthepoliceorfromJoyce’smother.Poorwoman,itwillbepainfulforher,nodoubt,but—”
“ButwhatIwant,”saidPoirot,“isnotamother’sestimateofadeaddaughter.Itisaclear,unbiasedopinionfromsomeonewhohasagoodknowledgeofhumannature.Ishouldsay,Madame,thatyouyourselfhavebeenanactiveworkerinmanywelfareandsocialfieldshere.Nobody,Iamsure,couldsumupmoreaptlythecharacteranddispositionofsomeonewhomyouknow.”
“Well—itisalittledifficult.Imean,childrenofthatage—shewasthirteen,Ithink,twelveorthirteen—areverymuchalikeatacertainage.”
“Ahno,surelynot,”saidPoirot.“Thereareverygreatdifferencesincharacter,indisposition.Didyoulikeher?”
Mrs.Drakeseemedtofindthequestionembarrassing.
“Well,ofcourseI—Ilikedher.Imean,well,Ilikeallchildren.Mostpeopledo.”
“Ah,thereIdonotagreewithyou,”saidPoirot.“SomechildrenIconsideraremostunattractive.”
“Well,Iagree,they’renotbroughtupverywellnowadays.Everythingseemslefttotheschool,andofcoursetheyleadverypermissivelives.Havetheirownchoiceoffriendsand—er—oh,really,MonsieurPoirot.”
“Wassheanicechildornotanicechild?”saidPoirotinsistently.
Mrs.Drakelookedathimandregisteredcensure.
“Youmustrealize,MonsieurPoirot,thatthepoorchildisdead.”
“Deadoralive,itmatters.Perhapsifshewasanicechild,nobodywouldhavewantedtokillher,butifshewasnotanicechild,somebodymighthavewantedtokillher,anddidso—”
“Well,Isuppose—Surelyitisn’taquestionofniceness,isit?”
“Itcouldbe.Ialsounderstandthatsheclaimedtohaveseenamurdercommitted.”
“Ohthat,”saidMrs.Drakecontemptuously.
“Youdidnottakethatstatementseriously?”
“Well,ofcourseIdidn’t.Itwasaverysillythingtosay.”
“Howdidshecometosayit?”
“Well,IthinkreallytheywereallratherexcitedaboutMrs.Oliverbeinghere.Youareaveryfamousperson,youmustremember,dear,”saidMrs.Drake,addressingMrs.Oliver.
Theword“dear”seemedincludedinherspeechwithoutanyaccompanyingenthusiasm.
“Idon’tsupposethesubjectwouldeverhavearisenotherwise,butthechildrenwereexcitedbymeetingafamousauthoress—”
“SoJoycesaidthatshehadseenamurdercommitted,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.
“Yes,shesaidsomethingofthekind.Iwasn’treallylistening.”
“Butyoudorememberthatshesaidit?”
“Ohyes,shesaidit.ButIdidn’tbelieveit,”saidMrs.Drake.“Hersisterhushedherupatonce,veryproperly.”
“Andshewasannoyedaboutthat,wasshe?”
“Yes,shewentonsayingthatitwastrue.”
“Infact,sheboastedaboutit.”
“Whenyouputitthatway,yes.”
“Itmighthavebeentrue,Isuppose,”saidPoirot.
“Nonsense!Idon’tbelieveitforoneminute,”saidMrs.Drake.“It’sthesortofstupidthingJoycewouldsay.”
“Shewasastupidgirl?”
“Well,shewasthekind,Ithink,wholikedtoshowoff,”saidMrs.Drake.“Youknow,shealwayswantedtohaveseenmoreordonemorethanothergirls.”
“Notaverylovablecharacter,”saidPoirot.
“Noindeed,”saidMrs.Drake.“Reallythekindthatyouhavetobeshuttingupallthetime.”
“Whatdidtheotherchildrenwhowereherehavetosayaboutit?Weretheyimpressed?”
“Theylaughedather,”saidMrs.Drake.“So,ofcourse,thatmadeherworse.”
“Well,”saidPoirot,asherose,“Iamgladtohaveyourpositiveassuranceonthatpoint.”Hebowedpolitelyoverherhand.“Goodbye,Madame,thankyousomuchforallowingmetoviewthesceneofthisveryunpleasantoccurrence.Ihopeithasnotrecalledunpleasantmemoriestoodefinitelytoyou.”
“Ofcourse,”saidMrs.Drake,“itisverypainfultorecallanythingofthiskind.Ihadsohopedourlittlepartywouldgooffwell.Indeed,itwasgoingoffwellandeveryoneseemedtobeenjoyingitsomuchtillthisterriblethinghappened.However,theonlythingonecandoistotryandforgetitall.Ofcourse,it’sveryunfortunatethatJoyceshouldhavemadethissillyremarkaboutseeingamurder.”
“HaveyoueverhadamurderinWoodleighCommon?”
“NotthatIcanremember,”saidMrs.Drakefirmly.
“Inthisageofincreasedcrimethatwelivein,”saidPoirot,“thatreallyseemssomewhatunusual,doesitnot?”
“Well,Ithinktherewasalorrydriverwhokilledapalofhis—somethinglikethat—andalittlegirlwhomtheyfoundburiedinagravelpitaboutfifteenmilesfromhere,butthatwasyearsago.Theywerebothrathersordidanduninterestingcrimes.Mainlytheresultofdrink,Ithink.”
“Infact,thekindofmurderunlikelytohavebeenwitnessedbyagirloftwelveorthirteen.”
“Mostunlikely,Ishouldsay.AndIcanassureyou,MonsieurPoirot,thisstatementthatthegirlmadewassolelyinordertoimpressfriendsandperhapsinterestafamouscharacter.”ShelookedrathercoldlyacrossatMrs.Oliver.
“Infact,”saidMrs.Oliver,“it’sallmyfaultforbeingattheparty,Isuppose.”
“Oh,ofcoursenot,mydear,ofcourseIdidn’tmeanitthatway.”
PoirotsighedashedepartedfromthehousewithMrs.Oliverbyhisside.
“Averyunsuitableplaceforamurder,”hesaid,astheywalkeddownthepathtothegate.“Noatmosphere,nohauntingsenseoftragedy,nocharacterworthmurdering,thoughIcouldn’thelpthinkingthatjustoccasionallysomeonemightfeellikemurderingMrs.Drake.”
“Iknowwhatyoumean.Shecanbeintenselyirritatingsometimes.Sopleasedwithherselfandsocomplacent.”
“Whatisherhusbandlike?”
“Oh,she’sawidow.Herhusbanddiedayearortwoago.Hegotpolioandhadbeenacrippleforyears.Hewasabankeroriginally,Ithink.Hewasverykeenongamesandsportandhatedhavingtogiveallthatupandbeaninvalid.”
“Yes,indeed.”HerevertedtothesubjectofthechildJoyce.“Justtellmethis.DidanyonewhowaslisteningtakethisassertionofthechildJoyceaboutmurderseriously?”
“Idon’tknow.Ishouldn’thavethoughtanyonedid.”
“Theotherchildren,forinstance?”
“Well,Iwasthinkingreallyofthem.No,Idon’tthinktheybelievedwhatJoycewassaying.Theythoughtshewasmakingupthings.”
“Didyouthinkthat,too?”
“Well,Ididreally,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Ofcourse,”sheadded,“Mrs.Drakewouldliketobelievethatthemurderneverreallyhappened,butshecan’tverywellgoasfarasthat,canshe?”
“Iunderstandthatthismaybepainfulforher.”
“Isupposeitisinaway,”saidMrs.Oliver,“butIthinkthatbynow,youknow,sheisactuallygettingquitepleasedtotalkaboutit.Idon’tthinkshelikestohavetobottleitupallthetime.”
“Doyoulikeher?”askedPoirot.“Doyouthinkshe’sanicewoman?”
“Youdoaskthemostdifficultquestions.Embarrassingones,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Itseemstheonlythingyouareinterestediniswhetherpeopleareniceornot.RowenaDrakeisthebossytype—likesrunningthingsandpeople.Sherunsthiswholeplacemoreorless,Ishouldthink.Butrunsitveryefficiently.Itdependsifyoulikebossywomen.Idon’tmuch—”
“WhataboutJoyce’smotherwhomweareonourwaytosee?”
“She’squiteanicewoman.Ratherstupid,Ishouldthink.I’msorryforher.It’sprettyawfultohaveyourdaughtermurdered,isn’tit?Andeveryoneherethinksitwasasexcrimewhichmakesitworse.”
“Buttherewasnoevidenceofsexualassault,orsoIunderstand?”
“No,butpeopleliketothinkthesethingshappen.Itmakesitmoreexciting.Youknowwhatpeoplearelike.”
“Onethinksonedoes—butsometimes—well—wedonotreallyknowatall.”
“Wouldn’titbebetterifmyfriendJudithButlerwastotakeyoutoseeMrs.Reynolds?Sheknowsherquitewell,andI’mastrangertoher.”
“Wewilldoasplanned.”
“TheComputerProgrammewillgoon,”murmuredMrs.Oliverrebelliously.
Seven
Mrs.ReynoldswasacompletecontrasttoMrs.Drake.Therewasnoairofpoisedcompetenceabouther,norindeedwasthereeverlikelytobe.
Shewaswearingconventionalblack,hadamoisthandkerchiefclaspedinherhandandwasclearlypreparedtodissolveintotearsatanymoment.
“It’sverykindofyou,I’msure,”shesaidtoMrs.Oliver,“tobringafriendofyoursdownheretohelpus.”SheputadamphandintoPoirot’sandlookedathimdoubtfully.“AndifhecanhelpinanywayI’msureI’llbeverygrateful,thoughIdon’tseewhatanyonecando.Nothingwillbringherback,poorchild.It’sawfultothinkof.Howanyonecoulddeliberatelykillanyoneofthatage.Ifshehadonlycriedout—thoughIsupposeherammedherheadunderwaterstraightawayandhelditthere.Oh,Ican’tbeartothinkofit.Ireallycan’t.”
“Indeed,Madame,Idonotwanttodistressyou.Pleasedonotthinkofit.Ionlywanttoaskyouafewquestionsthatmighthelp—help,thatis,tofindyourdaughter’smurderer.You’venoideayourself,Isuppose,whoitcanpossiblybe?”
“HowcouldIhaveanyidea?Ishouldn’thavethoughttherewasanyone,anyonelivinghere,Imean.Thisissuchaniceplace.Andthepeoplelivingherearesuchnicepeople.Isupposeitwasjustsomeone—someawfulmanwhocameinthroughoneofthewindows.Perhapshe’dtakendrugsorsomething.Hesawthelightandthatitwasaparty,sohegate-crashed.”
“Youarequitesurethattheassailantwasmale?”
“Oh,itmusthavebeen.”Mrs.Reynoldssoundedshocked.“I’msureitwas.Itcouldn’thavebeenawoman,couldit?”
“Awomanmighthavebeenstrongenough.”
“Well,IsupposeinawayIknowwhatyoumean.Youmeanwomenaremuchmoreathleticnowadaysandallthat.Buttheywouldn’tdoathinglikethis,I’msure.Joycewasonlyachild—thirteenyearsold.”
“Idon’twanttodistressyoubystayingheretoolong,Madame,ortoaskyoudifficultquestions.Thatalready,Iamsure,thepolicearedoingelsewhere,andIdon’twanttoupsetyoubydwellingonpainfulfacts.Itwasjustconcerningaremarkthatyourdaughtermadeattheparty.Youwerenotthereyourself,Ithink?”
“Well,no,Iwasn’t.Ihaven’tbeenverywelllatelyandchildren’spartiescanbeverytiring.Idrovethemthere,andthenlaterIcamebacktofetchthem.Thethreechildrenwenttogether,youknow.Ann,that’stheolderone,sheissixteen,andLeopoldwhoisnearlyeleven.WhatwasitJoycesaidthatyouwantedtoknowabout?”
“Mrs.Oliver,whowasthere,willtellyouwhatyourdaughter’swordswereexactly.Shesaid,Ibelieve,thatshehadonceseenamurdercommitted.”
“Joyce?Oh,shecouldn’thavesaidathinglikethat.Whatmurdercouldshepossiblyhaveseencommitted?”
“Well,everyoneseemstothinkitwasratherunlikely,”saidPoirot.“Ijustwonderedifyouthoughtitlikely.Didsheeverspeaktoyouaboutsuchathing?”
“Seeingamurder?Joyce?”
“Youmustremember,”saidPoirot,“thatthetermmurdermighthavebeenusedbysomeoneofJoyce’sageinaratherlooseway.Itmighthavebeenjustaquestionofsomebodybeingrunoverbyacar,orofchildrenfightingtogetherperhapsandonepushinganotherintoastreamoroverabridge.Somethingthatwasnotmeantseriously,butwhichhadanunfortunateresult.”
“Well,Ican’tthinkofanythinglikethathappeningherethatJoycecouldhaveseen,andshecertainlyneversaidanythingaboutittome.Shemusthavebeenjoking.”
“Shewasverypositive,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Shekeptonsayingthatitwastrueandthatshe’dseenit.”
“Didanyonebelieveher?”askedMrs.Reynolds.
“Idon’tknow,”saidPoirot.
“Idon’tthinktheydid,”saidMrs.Oliver,“orperhapstheydidn’twantto—er—well,encourageherbysayingtheybelievedit.”
“Theywereinclinedtojeeratherandsayshewasmakingitallup,”saidPoirot,lesskindheartedthanMrs.Oliver.
“Well,thatwasn’tveryniceofthem,”saidMrs.Reynolds.“AsthoughJoycewouldtellalotofliesaboutthingslikethat.”Shelookedflushedandindignant.
“Iknow.Itseemsunlikely,”saidPoirot.“Itwasmorepossible,wasitnot,thatshemighthavemadeamistake,thatshemighthaveseensomethingshedidthinkcouldhavebeendescribedasamurder.Someaccident,perhaps.”
“She’dhavesaidsomethingaboutittome,ifso,wouldn’tshe?”saidMrs.Reynolds,stillindignant.
“Onewouldthinkso,”saidPoirot.“Shedidnotsaysoatanytimeinthepast?Youmighthaveforgotten.Especiallyifitwasn’treallyimportant.”
“Whendoyoumean?”
“Wedon’tknow,”saidPoirot.“Thatisoneofthedifficulties.Itmighthavebeenthreeweeksago—orthreeyears.Shesaidshehadbeen‘quiteyoung’atthetime.Whatdoesathirteen-year-oldconsiderquiteyoung?Therewasnosensationalhappeningroundherethatyoucanrecall?”
“Oh,Idon’tthinkso.Imean,youdohearofthings.Orreadabouttheminthepapers.Youknow,Imeanwomenbeingattacked,oragirlandheryoungman,orthingslikethat.ButnothingimportantthatIcanremember,nothingthatJoycetookaninterestinoranythingofthatkind.”
“ButifJoycesaidpositivelyshesawamurder,wouldyouthinkshereallythoughtso?”
“Shewouldn’tsaysounlessshereallydidthinkso,wouldshe?”saidMrs.Reynolds.“Ithinkshemusthavegotsomethingmixedupreally.”
“Yes,itseemspossible.Iwonder,”heasked,“ifImightspeaktoyourtwochildrenwhowerealsoattheparty?”
“Well,ofcourse,thoughIdon’tknowwhatyoucanexpectthemtotellyou.Ann’sdoingherworkforher‘A’levelsupstairsandLeopold’sinthegardenassemblingamodelaeroplane.”
Leopoldwasasolid,pudgy-facedboyentirelyabsorbed,itseemed,inmechanicalconstruction.Itwassomefewmomentsbeforehecouldpayattentiontothequestionshewasbeingasked.
“Youwerethere,weren’tyou,Leopold?Youheardwhatyoursistersaid.Whatdidshesay?”
“Oh,youmeanaboutthemurder?”Hesoundedbored.
“Yes,that’swhatImean,”saidPoirot.“Shesaidshesawamurderonce.Didshereallyseesuchathing?”
“No,ofcourseshedidn’t,”saidLeopold.“Whoonearthwouldsheseemurdered?ItwasjustlikeJoyce,that.”
“Howdoyoumean,itwasjustlikeher?”
“Showingoff,”saidLeopold,windingroundapieceofwireandbreathingforcefullythroughhisnoseasheconcentrated.“Shewasanawfullystupidsortofgirl,”headded.“She’dsayanything,youknow,tomakepeoplesitupandtakenotice.”
“Soyoureallythinksheinventedthewholething?”
LeopoldshiftedhisgazetoMrs.Oliver
“Iexpectshewantedtoimpressyouabit,”hesaid.“Youwritedetectivestories,don’tyou?Ithinkshewasjustputtingitonsothatyoushouldtakemorenoticeofherthanyoudidoftheothers.”
“Thatwouldalsoberatherlikeher,wouldit?”saidPoirot.
“Oh,she’dsayanything,”saidLeopold.“Ibetnobodybelievedherthough.”
“Wereyoulistening?Doyouthinkanyonebelievedit?”
“Well,Iheardhersayit,butIdidn’treallylisten.BeatricelaughedatherandsodidCathie.Theysaid‘that’satallstory,’orsomething.”
ThereseemedlittlemoretobegotoutofLeopold.TheywentupstairstowhereAnn,lookingrathermorethanhersixteenyears,wasbendingoveratablewithvariousstudybooksspreadroundher.
“Yes,Iwasattheparty,”shesaid.
“Youheardyoursistersaysomethingabouthavingseenamurder?”
“Ohyes,Iheardher.Ididn’ttakeanynotice,though.”
“Youdidn’tthinkitwastrue?”
“Ofcourseitwasn’ttrue.Therehaven’tbeenanymurdershereforages.Idon’tthinkthere’sbeenapropermurderforyears.”
“Thenwhydoyouthinkshesaidso?”
“Oh,shelikesshowingoff.Imeansheusedtolikeshowingoff.ShehadawonderfulstoryonceabouthavingtravelledtoIndia.Myunclehadbeenonavoyagethereandshepretendedshewentwithhim.Lotsofgirlsatschoolactuallybelievedher.”
“Soyoudon’trememberanywhatyoucallmurderstakingplacehereinthelastthreeorfouryears?”
“No,onlytheusualkind,”saidAnn.“Imean,theonesyoureadeverydayinthenewspaper.Andtheyweren’tactuallyhereinWoodleighCommon.TheyweremostlyinMedchester,Ithink.”
“Whodoyouthinkkilledyoursister,Ann?Youmusthaveknownherfriends,youwouldknowanypeoplewhodidn’tlikeher.”
“Ican’timaginewho’dwanttokillher.Isupposesomeonewhowasjustbatty.Nobodyelsewould,wouldthey?”
“Therewasnoonewhohad—quarrelledwithherorwhodidnotgetonwithher?”
“Youmean,didshehaveanenemy?Ithinkthat’ssilly.Peopledon’thaveenemiesreally.Therearejustpeopleyoudon’tlike.”
Astheydepartedfromtheroom,Annsaid:
“Idon’twanttobenastyaboutJoyce,becauseshe’sdead,anditwouldn’tbekind,butshereallywasthemostawfulliar,youknow.Imean,I’msorrytosaythingsaboutmysister,butit’squitetrue.”
“Arewemakinganyprogress?”saidMrs.Oliverastheyleftthehouse.
“Nonewhatever,”saidHerculePoirot.“Thatisinteresting,”hesaidthoughtfully.
Mrs.Oliverlookedasthoughshedidn’tagreewithhim.
Eight
Itwassixo’clockatPineCrest.HerculePoirotputapieceofsausageintohismouthandfolloweditupwithasipoftea.TheteawasstrongandtoPoirotsingularlyunpalatable.Thesausage,ontheotherhand,wasdelicious.Cookedtoperfection.HelookedwithappreciationacrossthetabletowhereMrs.McKaypresidedoverthelargebrownteapot.
ElspethMcKaywasasunlikeherbrother,SuperintendentSpence,asshecouldbeineveryway.Wherehewasbroad,shewasangular.Hersharp,thinfacelookedoutontheworldwithshrewdappraisal.Shewasthinasathread,yettherewasacertainlikenessbetweenthem.Mainlytheeyesandthestronglymarkedlineofthejaw.Eitherofthem,Poirotthought,couldberelieduponforjudgementandgoodsense.Theywouldexpressthemselvesdifferently,butthatwasall.SuperintendentSpencewouldexpresshimselfslowlyandcarefullyastheresultofduethoughtanddeliberation.Mrs.McKaywouldpounce,quickandsharp,likeacatuponamouse.
“Alotdepends,”saidPoirot,“uponthecharacterofthischild.JoyceReynolds.Thisiswhatpuzzlesmemost.”
HelookedinquiringlyatSpence.
“Youcan’tgobyme,”saidSpence,“I’venotlivedherelongenough.BetteraskElspeth.”
Poirotlookedacrossthetable,hiseyebrowsraisedinquiringly.Mrs.McKaywassharpasusualinresponse.
“I’dsayshewasaproperlittleliar,”shesaid.
“Notagirlwhomyou’dtrustandbelievewhatshesaid?”
Elspethshookherheaddecidedly.
“No,indeed.Tellatalltale,shewould,andtellitwell,mindyou.ButI’dneverbelieveher.”
“Tellitwiththeobjectofshowingoff?”
“That’sright.TheytoldyoutheIndianstory,didn’tthey?There’smanyasbelievedthat,youknow.Beenawayfortheholidays,thefamilyhad.Goneabroadsomewhere.Idon’tknowifitwasherfatherandmotherorheruncleandaunt,buttheywenttoIndiaandshecamebackfromthoseholidayswithtalltalesofhowshe’dbeentakentherewiththem.Madeagoodstoryofit,shedid.AMaharajahandatigershootandelephants—ah,itwasfinehearingandalotofthosearoundherherebelievedit.ButIsaidstraightalong,she’stellingmorethaneverhappened.Couldbe,Ithoughtatfirst,shewasjustexaggerating.Butthestorygotaddedtoeverytime.Thereweremoretigers,ifyouknowwhatImean.Farmoretigersthancouldpossiblyhappen.Andelephants,too,forthatmatter.I’dknownherbefore,too,tellingtallstories.”
“Alwaystogetattention?”
“Aye,you’rerightthere.Shewasagreatoneforgettingattention.”
“Becauseachildtoldatallstoryaboutatraveltripshenevertook,”saidSuperintendentSpence,“youcan’tsaythateverytalltaleshetoldwasalie.”
“Itmightnotbe,”saidElspeth,“butI’dsaythelikelihoodwasthatitusuallywouldbe.”
“SoyouthinkthatifJoyceReynoldscameoutwithatalethatshe’dseenamurdercommitted,you’dsayshewasprobablylyingandyouwouldn’tbelievethestorywastrue?”
“That’swhatI’dthink,”saidMrs.McKay.
“Youmightbewrong,”saidherbrother.
“Yes,”saidMrs.McKay.“Anyonemaybewrong.It’sliketheoldstoryoftheboywhocried‘Wolf,wolf,’andhecrieditoncetoooften,whenitwasarealwolf,andnobodybelievedhim,andsothewolfgothim.”
“Soyou’dsumitup—”
“I’dstillsaytheprobabilitiesarethatshewasn’tspeakingthetruth.ButI’mafairwoman.Shemayhavebeen.Shemayhaveseensomething.Notquitesomuchasshesaidshesaw,butsomething.”
“Andsoshegotherselfkilled,”saidSuperintendentSpence.“You’vegottomindthat,Elspeth.Shegotherselfkilled.”
“That’strueenough,”saidMrs.McKay.“Andthat’swhyI’msayingmaybeI’vemisjudgedher.Andifso,I’msorry.Butaskanyonewhoknewherandthey’lltellyouthatliescamenaturaltoher.Itwasapartyshewasat,remember,andshewasexcited.She’dwanttomakeaneffect.”
“Indeed,theydidn’tbelieveher,”saidPoirot.
ElspethMcKayshookherheaddoubtfully
“Whocouldshehaveseenmurdered?”askedPoirot.
Helookedfrombrothertosister.
“Nobody,”saidMrs.McKaywithdecision.
“Theremusthavebeendeathshere,say,overthelastthreeyears.”
“Ohthat,naturally,”saidSpence.“Justtheusual—oldfolksorinvalidsorwhatyou’dexpect—ormaybeahit-and-runmotorist—”
“Nounusualorunexpecteddeaths?”
“Well—”Elspethhesitated.“Imean—”
Spencetookover.
“I’vejottedafewnamesdownhere.”HepushedthepaperovertoPoirot.“Saveyouabitoftrouble,askingquestionsaround.”
“Arethesesuggestedvictims?”
“Hardlyasmuchasthat.Saywithintherangeofpossibility.”
Poirotreadaloud.
“Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe.CharlotteBenfield.JanetWhite.LesleyFerrier—”Hebrokeoff,lookedacrossthetableandrepeatedthefirstname.Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe.
“Couldbe,”saidMrs.McKay.“Yes,youmighthavesomethingthere.”Sheaddedawordthatsoundedlike“opera.”
“Opera?”Poirotlookedpuzzled.Hehadheardofnoopera.
“Wentoffonenight,shedid,”saidElspeth,“wasneverheardofagain.”
“Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe?”
“No,no.Theoperagirl.Shecouldhaveputsomethinginthemedicineeasilyenough.Andshecameintoallthemoney,didn’tshe—orsoshethoughtatthetime?”
PoirotlookedatSpenceforenlightenment.
“Andneverbeenheardofsince,”saidMrs.McKay.“Theseforeigngirlsareallthesame.”
Thesignificanceoftheword“opera”cametoPoirot.
“Anaupairgirl,”hesaid.
“That’sright.Livedwiththeoldlady,andaweekortwoaftertheoldladydied,theaupairgirljustdisappeared.”
“Wentoffwithsomeman,I’dsay,”saidSpence.
“Well,nobodyknewofhimifso,”saidElspeth.“Andthere’susuallyplentytotalkabouthere.Usuallyknowjustwho’sgoingwithwho.”
“DidanybodythinktherehadbeenanythingwrongaboutMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’sdeath?”askedPoirot.
“No.She’dgothearttrouble.Doctorattendedherregularly.”
“Butyouheadedyourlistofpossiblevictimswithher,myfriend?”
“Well,shewasarichwoman,averyrichwoman.Herdeathwasnotunexpectedbutitwassudden.I’dsayoffhandthatDr.Fergusonwassurprised,evenifonlyslightlysurprised.Ithinkheexpectedhertolivelonger.Butdoctorsdohavethesesurprises.Shewasn’tonetodoasthedoctorordered.She’dbeentoldnottooverdothings,butshedidexactlyassheliked.Foronething,shewasapassionategardener,andthatdoesn’tdoheartcasesanygood.”
ElspethMcKaytookupthetale.
“Shecameherewhenherhealthfailed.Shewaslivingabroadbefore.Shecameheretobenearhernephewandniece,Mr.andMrs.Drake,andsheboughttheQuarryHouse.AbigVictorianhousewhichincludedadisusedquarrywhichattractedherashavingpossibilities.Shespentthousandsofpoundsonturningthatquarryintoasunkgardenorwhatevertheycallthething.HadalandscapegardenerdownfromWisleyoroneoftheseplacestodesignit.Oh,Icantellyou,it’ssomethingtolookat.”
“Ishallgoandlookatit,”saidPoirot.“Whoknows—itmightgivemeideas.”
“Yes,IwouldgoifIwereyou.It’sworthseeing.”
“Andshewasrich,yousay?”saidPoirot.
“Widowofabigshipbuilder.Shehadpacketsofmoney.”
“Herdeathwasnotunexpectedbecauseshehadaheartcondition,butitwassudden,”saidSpence.“Nodoubtsarosethatitwasduetoanythingbutnaturalcauses.Cardiacfailure,orwhateverthelongernameisthatdoctorsuse.Coronarysomething.”
“Noquestionofaninquesteverarose?”
Spenceshookhishead.
“Ithashappenedbefore,”saidPoirot.“Anelderlywomantoldtobecareful,nottorunupanddownstairs,nottodoanyintensivegardening,andsoonandsoon.Butifyougetanenergeticwomanwho’sbeenanenthusiasticgardenerallherlifeanddoneasshelikedinmostways,thenshedoesn’talwaystreattheserecommendationswithduerespect.”
“That’strueenough.Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythemadeawonderfulthingofthequarry—orrather,thelandscapeartistdid.Threeorfouryearstheyworkedatit,heandhisemployer.She’dseensomegarden,inIrelandIthinkitwas,whenshewentonaNationalTrusttourvisitinggardens.Withthatinmind,theyfairlytransformedtheplace.Ohyes,ithastobeseentobebelieved.”
“Hereisanaturaldeath,then,”saidPoirot,“certifiedassuchbythelocaldoctor.Isthatthesamedoctorwhoisherenow?AndwhomIamshortlygoingtosee?”
“Dr.Ferguson—yes.He’samanofaboutsixty,goodathisjobandwell-likedhere.”
“Butyoususpectthatherdeathmighthavebeenmurder?Foranyotherreasonthanthosethatyou’vealreadygivenme?”
“Theoperagirl,foronething,”saidElspeth.
“Why?”
“Well,shemusthaveforgedtheWill.WhoforgedtheWillifshedidn’t?”
“Youmusthavemoretotellme,”saidPoirot.“WhatisallthisaboutaforgedWill?”
“Well,therewasabitoffusswhenitcametoprobating,orwhateveryoucallit,theoldlady’sWill.”
“WasitanewWill?”
“Itwaswhattheycall—somethingthatsoundedlikefish—acodi—acodicil.”
ElspethlookedatPoirot,whonodded.
“She’dmadeWillsbefore,”saidSpence.“Allmuchthesame.Bequeststocharities,legaciestooldservants,butthebulkofherfortunealwayswenttohernephewandhiswife,whowerehernearrelatives.”
“Andthisparticularcodicil?”
“Lefteverythingtotheoperagirl,”saidElspeth,“becauseofherdevotedcareandkindness.Somethinglikethat.”
“Tellme,then,moreabouttheaupairgirl.”
“ShecamefromsomecountryinthemiddleofEurope.Somelongname.”
“Howlonghadshebeenwiththeoldlady?”
“Justoverayear.”
“Youcallhertheoldladyalways.Howoldwasshe?”
“Wellinthesixties.Sixty-fiveorsix,say.”
“Thatisnotsoveryold,”saidPoirotfeelingly.
“MadeseveralWills,shehad,byallaccounts,”saidElspeth.“AsBerthastoldyou,allofthemmuchthesame.Leavingmoneytooneortwocharitiesandthenperhapsshe’dchangethecharitiesandsomedifferentsouvenirstooldservantsandallthat.Butthebulkofthemoneyalwayswenttohernephewandhiswife,andIthinksomeotheroldcousinwhowasdead,though,bythetimeshedied.Sheleftthebungalowshe’dbuilttothelandscapeman,forhimtoliveinaslongasheliked,andsomekindofincomeforwhichhewastokeepupthequarrygardenandletitbewalkedinbythepublic.Somethinglikethat.”
“Isupposethefamilyclaimedthatthebalanceofhermindhadbeendisturbed,thattherehadbeenundueinfluence?”
“Ithinkprobablyitmighthavecometothat,”saidSpence.“Butthelawyers,asIsay,gotontotheforgerysharply.Itwasnotaveryconvincingforgery,apparently.Theyspotteditalmostatonce.”
“Thingscametolighttoshowthattheoperagirlcouldhavedoneitquiteeasily,”saidElspeth.“Yousee,shewroteagreatmanyofMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’slettersforheranditseemsMrs.Llewellyn-Smythehadagreatdislikeoftypedlettersbeingsenttofriendsoranythinglikethat.Ifitwasn’tabusinessletter,she’dalwayssay‘writeitinhandwritingandmakeitasmuchlikemineasyoucanandsignitwithmyname.’Mrs.Minden,thecleaningwoman,heardhersaythatoneday,andIsupposethegirlgotusedtodoingitandcopyingheremployer’shandwritingandthenitcametohersuddenlythatshecoulddothisandgetawaywithit.Andthat’showitallcameabout.ButasIsay,thelawyersweretoosharpandspottedit.”
“Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’sownlawyers?”
“Yes.Fullerton,HarrisonandLeadbetter.VeryrespectablefirminMedchester.They’dalwaysdoneallherlegalbusinessforher.Anyway,theygotexpertsontoitandquestionswereaskedandthegirlwasaskedquestionsandgotthewindup.Justwalkedoutonedayleavinghalfherthingsbehindher.Theywerepreparingtotakeproceedingsagainsther,butshedidn’twaitforthat.Shejustgotout.It’snotsodifficult,really,togetoutofthiscountry,ifyoudoitintime.Why,youcangoondaytripsontheContinentwithoutapassport,andifyou’vegotalittlearrangementwithsomeoneontheotherside,thingscanbearrangedlongbeforethereisanyrealhueandcry.She’sprobablygonebacktoherowncountryorchangedhernameorgonetofriends.”
“ButeveryonethoughtthatMrs.Llewellyn-Smythediedanaturaldeath?”askedPoirot.
“Yes,Idon’tthinktherewaseveranyquestionofthat.Ionlysayit’spossiblebecause,asIsay,thesethingshavehappenedbeforewherethedoctorhasnosuspicion.SupposingthatgirlJoycehadheardsomething,hadheardtheaupairgirlgivingmedicinestoMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe,andtheoldladysaying‘thismedicinetastesdifferenttotheusualone.’Or‘thishasgotabittertaste’or‘it’speculiar.’”
“Anyonewouldthinkyou’dbeentherelisteningtothingsyourself,Elspeth,”saidSuperintendentSpence.“Thisisallyourimagination.”
“Whendidshedie?”saidPoirot.“Morning,evening,indoors,outofdoors,athomeorawayfromhome?”
“Oh,athome.She’dcomeupfromdoingthingsinthegardenoneday,breathingratherheavily.Shesaidshewasverytiredandshewenttoliedownonherbed.Andtoputitinonesentence,sheneverwokeup.Whichisallverynatural,itseems,medicallyspeaking.”
Poirottookoutalittlenotebook.Thepagewasalreadyheaded“Victims.”Under,hewrote,“No.1.suggested,Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe.”OnthenextpagesofhisbookhewrotedowntheothernamesthatSpencehadgivenhim.Hesaid,inquiringly:
“CharlotteBenfield?”
Spencerepliedpromptly.“Sixteen-year-oldshopassistant.Multipleheadinjuries.FoundonafootpathneartheQuarryWood.Twoyoungmencameundersuspicion.Bothhadwalkedoutwithherfromtimetotime.Noevidence.”
“Theyassistedthepoliceintheirinquiries?”askedPoirot.
“Asyousay.It’stheusualphrase.Theydidn’tassistmuch.Theywerefrightened.Toldafewlies,contradictedthemselves.Theydidn’tcarryconvictionaslikelymurderers.Buteitherofthemmighthavebeen.”
“Whatweretheylike?”
“PeterGordon,twenty-one.Unemployed.Hadhadoneortwojobsbutneverkeptthem.Lazy.Quitegood-looking.Hadbeenonprobationonceortwiceforminorpilferings,thingsofthatkind.Norecordbeforeofviolence.Wasinwitharathernastylotoflikelyyoungcriminals,butusuallymanagedtokeepoutofserioustrouble.”
“Andtheotherone?”
“ThomasHudd.Twenty.Stammered.Shy.Neurotic.Wantedtobeateacher,butcouldn’tmakethegrade.Motherawidow.Thedotingmothertype.Didn’tencouragegirlfriends.Kepthimasclosetoherapronstringsasshecould.Hehadajobinastationer’s.Nothingcriminalknownagainsthim,butapossibilitypsychologically,soitseems.Thegirlplayedhimupagooddeal.Jealousyapossiblemotive,butnoevidencethatwecouldprosecuteon.Bothofthemhadalibis.Hudd’swashismother’s.Shewouldhavesworntokingdomcomethathewasindoorswithherallthatevening,andnobodycansayhewasn’torhadseenhimelsewhereorintheneighbourhoodofthemurder.YoungGordonwasgivenanalibibysomeofhislessreputablefriends.Notworthmuch,butyoucouldn’tdisproveit.”
“Thishappenedwhen?”
“Eighteenmonthsago.”
“Andwhere?”
“InafootpathinafieldnotfarfromWoodleighCommon.”
“Threequartersofamile,”saidElspeth.
“NearJoyce’shouse—theReynolds’house?”
“No,itwasontheothersideofthevillage.”
“ItseemsunlikelytohavebeenthemurderJoycewastalkingabout,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.“Ifyouseeagirlbeingbashedontheheadbyayoungmanyou’dbelikelytothinkofmurderstraightaway.Nottowaitforayearbeforeyoubegantothinkitwasmurder.”
Poirotreadanothername.
“LesleyFerrier.”
Spencespokeagain.“Lawyer’sclerk,twenty-eight,employedbyMessrsFullerton,HarrisonandLeadbetterofMarketStreet,Medchester.”
“ThosewereMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’ssolicitors,Ithinkyousaid.”
“Yes.Sameones.”
“AndwhathappenedtoLesleyFerrier?”
“Hewasstabbedintheback.NotfarfromtheGreenSwanPub.Hewassaidtohavebeenhavinganaffairwiththewifeofthelandlord,HarryGriffin.Handsomepiece,shewas,indeedstillis.Gettingperhapsabitlonginthetooth.Fiveorsixyearsolderthanhewas,butshelikedthemyoung.”
“Theweapon?”
“Theknifewasn’tfound.Leswassaidtohavebrokenwithherandtakenupwithsomeothergirl,butwhatgirlwasneversatisfactorilydiscovered.”
“Ah.Andwhowassuspectedinthiscase?Thelandlordorthewife?”
“Quiteright,”saidSpence.“Mighthavebeeneither.Thewifeseemedthemorelikely.Shewashalfgypsyandatemperamentalpiece.Buttherewereotherpossibilities.OurLesleyhadn’tledablamelesslife.Gotintotroubleinhisearlytwenties,falsifyinghisaccountssomewhere.Withaspotofforgery.Wassaidtohavecomefromabrokenhomeandalltherestofit.Employersspokeupforhim.HegotashortsentenceandwastakenonbyFullerton,HarrisonandLeadbetterwhenhecameoutofprison.”
“Andafterthathe’dgonestraight?”
“Well,nothingproved.Heappearedtodosoasfarashisemployerswereconcerned,buthehadbeenmixedupinafewquestionabletransactionswithhisfriends.He’swhatyoumightcallawrong’unbutacarefulone.”
“Sothealternativewas?”
“Thathemighthavebeenstabbedbyoneofhislessreputableassociates.Whenyou’reinwithanastycrowdyou’vegotitcomingtoyouwithaknifeifyouletthemdown.”
“Anythingelse?”
“Well,hehadagoodlotofmoneyinhisbankaccount.Paidinincash,ithadbeen.Nothingtoshowwhereitcamefrom.Thatwassuspiciousinitself.”
“PossiblypinchedfromFullerton,HarrisonandLeadbetter?”suggestedPoirot
“Theysaynot.Theyhadacharteredaccountanttoworkonitandlookintothings.”
“Andthepolicehadnoideawhereelseitmighthavecomefrom?”
“No.”
“Again,”saidPoirot,“notJoyce’smurder,Ishouldthink.”
Hereadthelastname,“JanetWhite.”
“Foundstrangledonafootpathwhichwasashortcutfromtheschoolhousetoherhome.Shesharedaflattherewithanotherteacher,NoraAmbrose.AccordingtoNoraAmbrose,JanetWhitehadoccasionallyspokenofbeingnervousaboutsomemanwithwhomshe’dbrokenoffrelationsayearago,butwhohadfrequentlysentherthreateningletters.Nothingwaseverfoundoutaboutthisman.NoraAmbrosedidn’tknowhisname,didn’tknowexactlywherehelived.”
“Aha,”saidPoirot,“Ilikethisbetter.”
Hemadeagood,thickblacktickagainstJanetWhite’sname.
“Forwhatreason?”askedSpence.
“ItisamorelikelymurderforagirlofJoyce’sagetohavewitnessed.Shecouldhaverecognizedthevictim,aschoolteacherwhomsheknewandwhoperhapstaughther.Possiblyshedidnotknowtheattacker.Shemighthaveseenastruggle,heardaquarrelbetweenagirlwhomsheknewandastrangeman.Butthoughtnomoreofitthanthatatthetime.WhenwasJanetWhitekilled?”
“Twoandahalfyearsago.”
“Thatagain,”saidPoirot,“isabouttherighttime.BothfornotrealizingthatthemanshemayhaveseenwithhishandsroundJanetWhite’sneckwasnotmerelyneckingher,butmighthavebeenkillingher.Butthenasshegrewmoremature,theproperexplanationcametoher.”
HelookedatElspeth.“Youagreewithmyreasoning?”
“Iseewhatyoumean,”saidElspeth.“Butaren’tyougoingatallthisthewrongwayround?LookingforavictimofapastmurderinsteadoflookingforamanwhokilledachildhereinWoodleighCommonnotmorethanthreedaysago?”
“Wegofromthepasttothefuture,”saidPoirot.“Wearrive,shallwesay,fromtwoandahalfyearsagotothreedaysago.And,therefore,wehavetoconsider—whatyou,nodoubt,havealreadyconsidered—whowasthereinWoodleighCommonamongstthepeoplewhowereatthepartywhomighthavebeenconnectedwithanoldercrime?”
“Onecannarrowitdownabitmorethanthatnow,”saidSpence.“ThatisifwearerightinacceptingyourassumptionthatJoycewaskilledbecauseofwhatsheclaimedearlierinthedayaboutseeingmurdercommitted.Shesaidthosewordsduringthetimethepreparationsforthepartyweregoingon.Mindyou,wemaybewronginbelievingthatthatwasthemotiveforkilling,butIdon’tthinkwearewrong.Soletussaysheclaimedtohaveseenamurder,andsomeonewhowaspresentduringthepreparationsforthepartythatafternooncouldhaveheardherandactedassoonaspossible.”
“Whowaspresent?”saidPoirot.“Youknow,Ipresume.”
“Yes,Ihavethelistforyouhere.”
“Youhavecheckeditcarefully?”
“Yes,I’vecheckedandre-checked,butit’sbeenquiteajob.Herearetheeighteennames.”
ListofpeoplepresentduringpreparationforHallowe’enPartyMrs.Drake(ownerofhouse)Mrs.ButlerMrs.OliverMissWhittaker(schoolteacher)Rev.CharlesCotterell(Vicar)SimonLampton(Curate)MissLee(Dr.Ferguson’sdispenser)AnnReynoldsJoyceReynoldsLeopoldReynoldsNicholasRansomDesmondHollandBeatriceArdleyCathieGrantDianaBrentMrs.Garlton(householdhelp)Mrs.Minden(cleaningwoman)Mrs.Goodbody(helper)
“Youaresuretheseareall?”
“No,”saidSpence.“I’mnotsure.Ican’treallybesure.Nobodycan.Yousee,oddpeoplebroughtthings.Somebodybroughtsomecolouredlightbulbs.Somebodyelsesuppliedsomemirrors.Thereweresomeextraplates.Someonelentaplasticpail.Peoplebroughtthings,exchangedawordortwoandwentawayagain.Theydidn’tremaintohelp.Thereforesuchapersoncouldhavebeenoverlookedandnotrememberedasbeingpresent.Butthatsomebody,eveniftheyhadonlyjustdepositedabucketinthehall,couldhaveoverheardwhatJoycewassayinginthesittingroom.Shewasshouting,youknow.Wecan’treallylimitittothislist,butit’sthebestwecando.Hereyouare.Takealookatit.I’vemadeabriefdescriptivenoteagainstthenames.”
“Ithankyou.Justonequestion.Youmusthaveinterrogatedsomeofthesepeople,thoseforinstancewhowerealsoattheparty.Didanyone,anyoneatall,mentionwhatJoycehadsaidaboutseeingamurder?”
“Ithinknot.Thereisnorecordofitofficially.ThefirstIheardofitiswhatyoutoldme.”
“Interesting,”saidPoirot.“Onemightalsosayremarkable.”
“Obviouslynoonetookitseriously,”saidSpence.
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.
“ImustgonowtokeepmyappointmentwithDr.Ferguson,afterhissurgery,”hesaid.
HefoldedupSpence’slistandputitinhispocket.
Nine
Dr.Fergusonwasamanofsixty,ofScottishextractionwithabrusquemanner.HelookedPoirotupanddownwithshrewdeyesunderbristlingeyebrows,andsaid:
“Well,what’sallthisabout?Sitdown.Mindthatchairleg.Thecastor’sloose.
“Ishouldperhapsexplain,”saidDr.Ferguson.“Everybodyknowseverythinginaplacelikethis.ThatauthoresswomanbroughtyoudownhereasGod’sgreatestdetectivetopuzzlepoliceofficers.That’smoreorlessright,isn’tit?”
“Inpart,”saidPoirot.“Icameheretovisitanoldfriendex-SuperintendentSpence,wholiveswithhissisterhere.”
“Spence?Hm.Goodtype,Spence.Bulldogbreed.Goodhonestpoliceofficeroftheoldtype.Nograft.Noviolence.Notstupideither.Straightasadie.”
“Youappraisehimcorrectly.”
“Well,”saidFerguson,“whatdidyoutellhimandwhatdidhetellyou?”
“BothheandInspectorRaglanhavebeenexceedinglykindtome.Ihopeyouwilllikewise.”
“I’venothingtobekindabout,”saidFerguson.“Idon’tknowwhathappened.Childgetsherheadshovedinabucketandisdrownedinthemiddleofaparty.Nastybusiness.Mindyou,doinginachildisn’tanythingtobestartledaboutnowadays.I’vebeencalledouttolookattoomanymurderedchildreninthelastseventotenyears—fartoomany.Alotofpeoplewhooughttobeundermentalrestraintaren’tundermentalrestraint.Noroomintheasylums.Theygoabout,nicelyspoken,nicelygotupandlookinglikeeverybodyelse,lookingforsomebodytheycandoin.Andenjoythemselves.Don’tusuallydoitataparty,though.Toomuchchanceofgettingcaught,Isuppose,butnoveltyappealseventoamentallydisturbedkiller.”
“Haveyouanyideawhokilledher?”
“Doyoureallysupposethat’saquestionIcananswerjustlikethat?I’dhavetohavesomeevidence,wouldn’tI?I’dhavetobesure.”
“Youcouldguess,”saidPoirot.
“Anyonecanguess.IfI’mcalledintoacaseIhavetoguesswhetherthechap’sgoingtohavemeaslesorwhetherit’sacaseofanallergytoshellfishortofeatherpillows.Ihavetoaskquestionstofindoutwhatthey’vebeeneating,ordrinking,orsleepingon,orwhatotherchildrenthey’vebeenmeeting.Whetherthey’vebeeninacrowdedbuswithMrs.Smith’sorMrs.Robinson’schildrenwho’veallgotthemeasles,andafewotherthings.ThenIadvanceatentativeopinionastowhichitisofthevariouspossibilities,andthat,letmetellyou,iswhat’scalleddiagnosis.Youdon’tdoitinahurryandyoumakesure.”
“Didyouknowthischild?”
“Ofcourse.Shewasoneofmypatients.Therearetwoofushere.MyselfandWorrall.IhappentobetheReynolds’doctor.Shewasquiteahealthychild,Joyce.Hadtheusualsmallchildishailments.Nothingpeculiaroroutoftheway.Atetoomuch,talkedtoomuch.Talkingtoomuchhadn’tdoneheranyharm.Eatingtoomuchgaveherwhatusedtobecalledintheolddaysabiliousattackfromtimetotime.She’dhadmumpsandchickenpox.Nothingelse.”
“Butshehadperhapstalkedtoomuchononeoccasion,asyousuggestshemightbeabletodo?”
“Sothat’sthetackyou’reon?Iheardsomerumourofthat.Onthelinesof‘whatthebutlersaw’—onlytragedyinsteadofcomedy.Isthatit?”
“Itcouldformamotive,areason.”
“Ohyes.Grantyouthat.Butthereareotherreasons.Mentallydisturbedseemstheusualanswernowadays.Atanyrate,itdoesalwaysintheMagistrates’courts.Nobodygainedbyherdeath,nobodyhatedher.Butitseemstomewithchildrennowadaysyoudon’tneedtolookforthereason.Thereason’sinanotherplace.Thereason’sinthekiller’smind.Hisdisturbedmindorhisevilmindorhiskinkymind.Anykindofmindyouliketocallit.I’mnotapsychiatrist.TherearetimeswhenIgettiredofhearingthosewords:‘Remandedforapsychiatrist’sreport,’afteraladhasbrokeninsomewhere,smashedthelookingglasses,pinchedthebottlesofwhisky,stolenthesilver,knockedanoldwomanonthehead.Doesn’tmattermuchwhatitisnow.Remandthemforthepsychiatrist’sreport.”
“Andwhowouldyoufavour,inthiscase,toremandforapsychiatrist’sreport?”
“Youmeanofthosethereatthe‘do’theothernight?”
“Yes.”
“Themurdererwouldhavehadtobethere,wouldn’the?Otherwisetherewouldn’thavebeenamurder.Right?Hewasamongtheguests,hewasamongthehelpersorhewalkedinthroughthewindowwithmaliceaforethought.Probablyheknewthefasteningsofthathouse.Mighthavebeenintherebefore,lookinground.Takeyourmanorboy.Hewantstokillsomeone.Notatallunusual.OverinMedchesterwehadacaseofthat.Cametolightafteraboutsixorsevenyears.Boyofthirteen.Wantedtokillsomeone,sohekilledachildofnine,pinchedacar,droveitsevenoreightmilesintoacopse,burnedherthere,wentaway,andasfarasweknowledablamelesslifeuntilhewastwenty-oneortwo.Mindyou,wehaveonlyhiswordforthat,hemayhavegoneondoingit.Probablydid.Foundhelikedkillingpeople.Don’tsupposehe’skilledtoomany,orsomepoliceforcewouldhavebeenontohimbeforenow.Buteverynowandthenhefelttheurge.Psychiatrist’sreport.Committedmurderwhilementallydisturbed.I’mtryingtosaymyselfthatthat’swhathappenedhere.Thatsortofthing,anyway.I’mnotapsychiatristmyself,thankgoodness.Ihaveafewpsychiatristfriends.Someofthemaresensiblechaps.Someofthem—well,I’llgoasfarassayingtheyoughttoberemandedforapsychiatrist’sreportthemselves.ThischapwhokilledJoyceprobablyhadniceparents,ordinarymanners,goodappearance.Nobody’ddreamanythingwaswrongwithhim.Everhadabiteataniceredjuicyappleandthere,downbythecore,somethingrathernastyrearsitselfupandwagsitsheadatyou?Plentyofhumanbeingsaboutlikethat.Morethanthereusedtobe,I’dsaynowadays.”
“Andyou’venosuspicionofyourown?”
“Ican’tstickmyneckoutanddiagnoseamurdererwithoutsomeevidence.”
“Still,youadmititmusthavebeensomeoneattheparty.Youcannothaveamurderwithoutamurderer.”
“Youcaneasilyinsomedetectivestoriesthatarewritten.Probablyyourpetauthoresswritesthemlikethat.ButinthiscaseIagree.Themurderermusthavebeenthere.Aguest,adomestichelp,someonewhowalkedinthroughthewindow.Easilydoneifhe’dstudiedthecatchofthewindowbeforehand.Itmighthavestrucksomecrazybrainthatit
UnderbushybrowsapairofeyestwinkledatPoirot.
“Iwastheremyself,”hesaid.“Cameinlate,justtoseewhatwasdoing.”
Henoddedhisheadvigorously.
“Yes,that’stheproblem,isn’tit?Likeasocialannouncementinthepapers:
‘Amongstthosepresentwas—
AMurderer.’”
Ten
PoirotlookedupatTheElmsandapprovedofit.
Hewasadmittedandtakenpromptlybywhathejudgedtobeasecretarytotheheadmistress’sstudy.MissEmlynrosefromherdesktogreethim.
“Iamdelightedtomeetyou,Mr.Poirot.I’veheardaboutyou.”
“Youaretookind,”saidPoirot.
“Fromaveryoldfriendofmine,MissBulstrode.FormerheadmistressofMeadowbank.YourememberMissBulstrode,perhaps?”
“Onewouldnotbelikelytoforgether.Agreatpersonality.”
“Yes,”saidMissEmlyn.“ShemadeMeadowbanktheschoolitis.”Shesighedslightlyandsaid,“Ithaschangedalittlenowadays.Differentaims,differentmethods,butitstillholdsitsownasaschoolofdistinction,ofprogress,andalsooftradition.Ahwell,wemustnotlivetoomuchinthepast.Youhavecometoseeme,nodoubt,aboutthedeathofJoyceReynolds.Idon’tknowifyouhaveanyparticularinterestinhercase.It’soutofyourusualrunofthings,Iimagine.Youknewherpersonally,orherfamilyperhaps?”
“No,”saidPoirot.“Icameattherequestofanoldfriend,Mrs.AriadneOliver,whowasstayingdownhereandwaspresentattheparty.”
“Shewritesdelightfulbooks,”saidMissEmlyn.“Ihavemetheronceortwice.Well,thatmakesthewholethingeasier,Ithink,todiscuss.Solongasnopersonalfeelingsareinvolved,onecangostraightahead.Itwasahorrifyingthingtohappen.IfImaysayso,itwasanunlikelythingtohappen.Thechildreninvolvedseemneitheroldenoughnoryoungenoughforittofallintoanyspecialclass.Apsychologicalcrimeisindicated.Doyouagree?”
“No,”saidPoirot.“Ithinkitwasamurder,likemostmurders,committedforamotive,possiblyasordidone.”
“Indeed.Andthereason?”
“ThereasonwasaremarkmadebyJoyce;notactuallyattheparty,Iunderstand,butearlierinthedaywhenpreparationswerebeingmadebysomeoftheolderchildrenandotherhelpers.Sheannouncedthatshehadonceseenamurdercommitted.”
“Wasshebelieved?”
“Onthewhole,Ithinkshewasnotbelieved.”
“Thatseemsthemostlikelyresponse.Joyce—Ispeakplainlytoyou,MonsieurPoirot,becausewedonotwantunnecessarysentimenttocloudmentalfaculties—shewasarathermediocrechild,neitherstupidnorparticularlyintellectual.Shewas,quitefrankly,acompulsiveliar.AndbythatIdonotmeanthatshewasspeciallydeceitful.Shewasnottryingtoavoidretributionortoavoidbeingfoundoutinsomepeccadillo.Sheboasted.Sheboastedofthingsthathadnothappened,butthatwouldimpressherfriendswhowerelisteningtoher.Asaresult,ofcourse,theyinclinednottobelievethetallstoriesshetold.”
“Youthinkthatsheboastedofhavingseenamurdercommittedinordertomakeherselfimportant,tointriguesomeone—?”
“Yes.AndIwouldsuggestthatAriadneOliverwasdoubtlessthepersonwhomshewantedtoimpress….”
“Soyoudon’tthinkJoycesawamurdercommittedatall?”
“Ishoulddoubtitverymuch.”
“Youareoftheopinionthatshemadethewholethingup?”
“Iwouldnotsaythat.Shedidwitness,perhaps,acaraccident,orsomeoneperhapswhowashitwithaballonthegolflinksandinjured—somethingthatshecouldworkupintoanimpressivehappeningthatmight,justconceivably,passasanattemptedmurder.”
“SotheonlyassumptionwecanmakewithanycertaintyisthattherewasamurdererpresentattheHallowe’enparty.”
“Certainly,”saidMissEmlyn,withoutturningagreyhair.“Certainly.Thatfollowsonlogically,doesitnot?”
“Wouldyouhaveanyideawhothatmurderermightbe?”
“Thatiscertainlyasensiblequestion,”saidMissEmlyn.“Afterall,themajorityofthechildrenatthepartywereagedbetweennineandfifteen,andIsupposenearlyallofthemhadbeenorwerepupilsatmyschool.Ioughttoknowsomethingaboutthem.Something,too,abouttheirfamiliesandtheirbackgrounds.”
“Ibelievethatoneofyourownteachers,ayearortwoago,wasstrangledbyanunknownkiller.”
“YouarereferringtoJanetWhite?Abouttwenty-fouryearsofage.Anemotionalgirl.Asfarasisknown,shewasoutwalkingalone.Shemay,ofcourse,havearrangedtomeetsomeyoungman.Shewasagirlwhowasquiteattractivetomeninamodestsortofway.Herkillerhasnotbeendiscovered.Thepolicequestionedvariousyoungmenoraskedthemtoassistthemintheirinquiries,asthetechniquegoes,buttheywerenotabletofindsufficientevidencetobringacaseagainstanyone.Anunsatisfactorybusinessfromtheirpointofview.And,Imaysay,frommine.”
“YouandIhaveaprincipleincommon.Wedonotapproveofmurder.”
MissEmlynlookedathimforamomentortwo.Herexpressiondidnotchange,butPoirothadanideathathewasbeingsizedupwithagreatdealofcare.
“Ilikethewayyouputit,”shesaid.“Fromwhatyoureadandhearnowadays,itseemsthatmurderundercertainaspectsisslowlybutsurelybeingmadeacceptabletoalargesectionofthecommunity.”
Shewassilentforafewminutes,andPoirotalsodidnotspeak.Shewas,hethought,consideringaplanofaction.
Sheroseandtouchedabell.
“Ithink,”shesaid,“thatyouhadbettertalktoMissWhittaker.”
SomefiveminutespassedafterMissEmlynhadlefttheroomandthenthedooropenedandawomanofaboutfortyentered.Shehadrusset-colouredhair,cutshort,andcameinwithabriskstep.
“MonsieurPoirot?”shesaid.“CanIhelpyou?MissEmlynseemstothinkthatthatmightbeso.”
“IfMissEmlynthinksso,thenitisalmostacertaintythatyoucan.Iwouldtakeherwordforit.”
“Youknowher?”
“Ihaveonlymetherthisafternoon.”
“Butyouhavemadeupyourmindquicklyabouther.”
“IhopeyouaregoingtotellmethatIamright.”
ElizabethWhittakergaveashort,quicksigh.
“Oh,yes,you’reright.IpresumethatthisisaboutthedeathofJoyceReynolds.Idon’tknowexactlyhowyoucomeintoit.Throughthepolice?”Sheshookherheadslightlyinadissatisfiedmanner.
“No,notthroughthepolice.Privately,throughafriend.”
Shetookachair,pushingitbackalittlesoastofacehim.
“Yes.Whatdoyouwanttoknow?”
“Idon’tthinkthereisanyneedtotellyou.Noneedtowastetimeaskingquestionsthatmaybeofnoimportance.SomethinghappenedthateveningatthepartywhichperhapsitiswellthatIshouldknowabout.Isthatit?”
“Yes.”
“Youwereattheparty?”
“Iwasattheparty.”Shereflectedaminuteortwo.“Itwasaverygoodparty.Well-run.Well-arranged.Aboutthirty-oddpeoplewerethere,thatis,countinghelpersofdifferentkinds.Children—teenagers—grown-ups—andafewcleaninganddomestichelpersinthebackground.”
“Didyoutakepartinthearrangementswhichweremade,Ibelieve,earlierthatafternoonorthatmorning?”
“Therewasnothingreallytodo.Mrs.Drakewasfullycompetenttodealwithallthevariouspreparationswithasmallnumberofpeopletohelpher.Itwasmoredomesticpreparationsthatwereneeded.”
“Isee.Butyoucametothepartyasoneoftheguests?”
“Thatisright.”
“Andwhathappened?”
“Theprogressoftheparty,Ihavenodoubt,youalreadyknow.YouwanttoknowifthereisanythingIcantellyouthatIspeciallynoticedorthatIthoughtmighthaveacertainsignificance?Idon’twanttowasteyourtimeunduly,youunderstand.”
“Iamsureyouwillnotwastemytime.Yes,MissWhittaker,tellmequitesimply.”
“Thevariouseventshappenedinthewayalreadyarrangedfor.ThelasteventwaswhatwasreallymoreaChristmasfestivityorassociatedwithChristmas,thanitwouldbewithHallowe’en.TheSnapdragon,aburningdishofraisinswithbrandypouredoverthem,andthoseroundsnatchattheraisins—therearesquealsoflaughterandexcitement.Itbecameveryhot,though,intheroom,withtheburningdish,andIleftitandcameoutinthehall.Itwasthen,asIstoodthere,thatIsawMrs.Drakecomingoutofthelavatoryonthefirstfloorlanding.Shewascarryingalargevaseofmixedautumnleavesandflowers.Shestoodattheangleofthestaircase,pausingforamomentbeforecomingdownstairs.Shewaslookingdownoverthewellofthestaircase.Notinmydirection.Shewaslookingtowardstheotherendofthehallwherethereisadoorleadingintothelibrary.Itissetjustacrossthehallfromthedoorintothediningroom.AsIsay,shewaslookingthatwayandpausingforamomentbeforecomingdownstairs.Shewasshiftingslightlytheangleofthevaseasitwasaratherawkwardthingtocarry,andweightyifitwas,asIpresumed,fullofwater.Shewasshiftingthepositionofitrathercarefullysothatshecouldholdittoherwithonearm,andputouttheotherarmtotherailofthestaircaseasshecameroundtheslightlyshapedcornerstairway.Shestoodthereforamomentortwo,stillnotlookingatwhatshewascarrying,buttowardsthehallbelow.Andsuddenlyshemadeasuddenmovement—astartIwoulddescribeitas—yes,definitelysomethinghadstartledher.Somuchsothatsherelinquishedherholdofthevaseanditfell,reversingitselfasitdidsosothatthewaterstreamedoverherandthevaseitselfcrasheddowntothehallbelow,whereitbrokeinsmithereensonthehallfloor.”
“Isee,”saidPoirot.Hepausedaminuteortwo,watchingher.Hereyes,henoticed,wereshrewdandknowledgeable.Theywereaskingnowhisopinionofwhatshewastellinghim.“Whatdidyouthinkhadhappenedtostartleher?”
“Onreflection,afterwards,Ithoughtshehadseensomething.”
“Youthoughtshehadseensomething,”repeatedPoirot,thoughtfully.“Suchas?”
“Thedirectionofhereyes,asIhavetoldyou,wastowardsthedoorofthelibrary.Itseemstomepossiblethatshemayhaveseenthatdooropenorthehandleturn,orindeedshemighthaveseensomethingslightlymorethanthat.Shemighthaveseensomebodywhowasopeningthatdoorandpreparingtocomeoutofit.Shemayhaveseensomeoneshedidnotexpecttosee.”
“Wereyoulookingatthedooryourself?”
“No.IwaslookingintheoppositedirectionupthestairstowardsMrs.Drake.”
“Andyouthinkdefinitelythatshesawsomethingthatstartledher?”
“Yes.Nomorethanthat,perhaps.Adooropening.Aperson,justpossiblyanunlikelyperson,emerging.Justsufficienttomakeherrelinquishhergraspontheveryheavyvasefullofwaterandflowers,sothatshedroppedit.”
“Didyouseeanyonecomeoutofthatdoor?”
“No.Iwasnotlookingthatway.Idonotthinkanyoneactuallydidcomeoutintothehall.Presumablywhoeveritwasdrewbackintotheroom.”
“WhatdidMrs.Drakedonext?”
“Shemadeasharpexclamationofvexation,camedownthestairsandsaidtome,‘LookwhatI’vedonenow!Whatamess!’Shekickedsomeofthebrokenglassaway.Ihelpedhersweepitinabrokenpileintoacorner.Itwasn’tpracticabletoclearitallupatthatmoment.ThechildrenwerebeginningtocomeoutoftheSnapdragonroom.Ifetchedaglassclothandmoppedherupabit,andshortlyafterthatthepartycametoanend.”
“Mrs.Drakedidnotsayanythingabouthavingbeenstartledormakeanyreferenceastowhatmighthavestartledher?”
“No.Nothingofthekind.”
“Butyouthinkshewasstartled.”
“Possibly,MonsieurPoirot,youthinkthatIammakingaratherunnecessaryfussaboutsomethingofnoimportancewhatever?”
“No,”saidPoirot,“Idonotthinkthatatall.IhaveonlymetMrs.Drakeonce,”headdedthoughtfully,“whenIwenttoherhousewithmyfriend,Mrs.Oliver,tovisit—asonemightsay,ifonewishestobemelodramatic—thesceneofthecrime.ItdidnotstrikemeduringthebriefperiodIhadforobservationthatMrs.Drakecouldbeawomanwhoiseasilystartled.Doyouagreewithmyview?”
“Certainly.ThatiswhyI,myself,sincehavewondered.”
“Youaskednospecialquestionsatthetime?”
“Ihadnoearthlyreasontodoso.Ifyourhostesshasbeenunfortunatetodroponeofherbestglassvases,andithassmashedtosmithereens,itishardlythepartofaguesttosay‘Whatonearthmadeyoudothat?’;therebyaccusingherofaclumsinesswhichIcanassureyouisnotoneofMrs.Drake’scharacteristics.”
“Andafterthat,asyouhavesaid,thepartycametoanend.Thechildrenandtheirmothersorfriendsleft,andJoycecouldnotbefound.WeknownowthatJoycewasbehindthelibrarydoorandthatJoycewasdead.Sowhocouldithavebeenwhowasabouttocomeoutofthelibrarydoor,alittlewhileearlier,shallwesay,andthenhearingvoicesinthehallshutthedooragainandmadeanexitlaterwhentherewerepeoplemillingaboutinthehallmakingtheirfarewells,puttingontheircoatsandalltherestofit?Itwasnotuntilafterthebodyhadbeenfound,Ipresume,MissWhittaker,thatyouhadtimetoreflectonwhatyouhadseen?”
“Thatisso.”MissWhittakerrosetoherfeet.“I’mafraidthere’snothingelsethatIcantellyou.Eventhismaybeaveryfoolishlittlematter.”
“Butnoticeable.Everythingnoticeableisworthremembering.Bytheway,thereisonequestionIshouldliketoaskyou.Two,asamatteroffact.”
ElizabethWhittakersatdownagain.“Goon,”shesaid,“askanythingyoulike.”
“Canyourememberexactlytheorderinwhichthevariouseventsoccurredattheparty?”
“Ithinkso.”ElizabethWhittakerreflectedforamomentortwo.“Itstartedwithabroomstickcompetition.Decoratedbroomsticks.Therewerethreeorfourdifferentsmallprizesforthat.Thentherewasakindofcontestwithballoons,punchingthemandbattingthemabout.Asortofmildhorseplaytogetthechildrenwarmedup.Therewasalookingglassbusinesswherethegirlswentintoasmallroomandheldamirrorwhereaboy’soryoungman’sfacereflectedinit.”
“Howwasthatmanaged?”
“Oh,verysimply.Thetransomofthedoorhadbeenremoved,andsodifferentfaceslookedthroughandwerereflectedinthemirroragirlwasholding.”
“Didthegirlsknowwhoitwastheysawreflectedintheglass?”
“Ipresumesomeofthemdidandsomeofthemdidn’t.Alittlemakeupwasemployedonthemalehalfofthearrangement.Youknow,amaskorawig,sideburns,abeard,somegreasepainteffects.Mostoftheboyswereprobablyknowntothegirlsalreadyandoneortwostrangersmighthavebeenincluded.Anyway,therewasalotofquitehappygiggling,”saidMissWhittaker,showingforamomentortwoakindofacademiccontemptforthiskindoffun.“Afterthattherewasanobstacleraceandthentherewasflourpackedintoaglasstumblerandreversed,sixpencelaidontopandeveryonetookasliceoff.Whentheflourcollapsedthatpersonwasoutofthecompetitionandtheothersremaineduntilthelastoneclaimedthesixpence.Afterthattherewasdancing,andthentherewassupper.Afterthat,asafinalclimax,cametheSnapdragon.”
“WhendidyouyourselfseethegirlJoycelast?”
“I’venoidea,”saidElizabethWhittaker.“Idon’tknowherverywell.She’snotinmyclass.Shewasn’taveryinterestinggirlsoIwouldn’thavebeenwatchingher.IdorememberIsawhercuttingtheflourbecauseshewassoclumsythatshecapsizeditalmostatonce.Soshewasalivethen—butthatwasquiteearlyon.”
“Youdidnotseehergointothelibrarywithanyone?”
“Certainlynot.IshouldhavementioneditbeforeifIhad.Thatatleastmighthavebeensignificantandimportant.”
“Andnow,”saidPoirot,“formysecondquestionorquestions.Howlonghaveyoubeenattheschoolhere?”
“Sixyearsthisnextautumn.”
“Andyouteach—?”
“MathematicsandLatin.”
“Doyourememberagirlwhowasteachingheretwoyearsago—JanetWhitebyname?”
ElizabethWhittakerstiffened.Shehalfrosefromherchair,thensatdownagain.
“Butthat—thathasnothingtodowithallthis,surely?”
“Itcouldhave,”saidPoirot.
“Buthow?Inwhatway?”
Scholasticcircleswerelesswell-informedthanvillagegossip,Poirotthought
“Joyceclaimedbeforewitnessestohaveseenamurderdonesomeyearsago.CouldthatpossiblyhavebeenthemurderofJanetWhite,doyouthink?HowdidJanetWhitedie?”
“Shewasstrangled,walkinghomefromschoolonenight.”
“Alone?”
“Probablynotalone.”
“ButnotwithNoraAmbrose?”
“WhatdoyouknowaboutNoraAmbrose?”
“Nothingasyet,”saidPoirot,“butIshouldliketo.Whatweretheylike,JanetWhiteandNoraAmbrose?”
“Oversexed,”saidElizabethWhittaker,“butindifferentways.HowcouldJoycehaveseenanythingofthekindorknowanythingaboutit?IttookplaceinalanenearQuarryWood.Shewouldn’thavebeenmorethantenorelevenyearsold.”
“Whichonehadtheboyfriend?”askedPoirot.“NoraorJanet?”
“Allthisispasthistory.”
“Oldsinshavelongshadows,”quotedPoirot.“Asweadvancethroughlife,welearnthetruthofthatsaying.WhereisNoraAmbrosenow?”
“ShelefttheschoolandtookanotherpostintheNorthofEngland—shewas,naturally,veryupset.Theywere—greatfriends.”
“Thepoliceneversolvedthecase?”
MissWhittakershookherhead.Shegotupandlookedatherwatch.
“Imustgonow.”
“Thankyouforwhatyouhavetoldme.”
Eleven
HerculePoirotlookedupatthefa?adeofQuarryHouse.Asolid,well-builtexampleofmid-Victorianarchitecture.Hehadavisionofitsinterior—aheavymahoganysideboard,acentralrectangulartablealsoofheavymahogany,abilliardroom,perhaps,alargekitchenwithadjacentscullery,stoneflagsonthefloor,amassivecoalrangenownodoubtreplacedbyelectricityorgas.
Henotedthatmostoftheupperwindowswerestillcurtained.Herangthefrontdoorbell.Itwasansweredbyathin,grey-hairedwomanwhotoldhimthatColonelandMrs.WestonwereawayinLondonandwouldnotbebackuntilnextweek
HeaskedabouttheQuarryWoodsandwastoldthattheywereopentothepublicwithoutcharge.Theentrancewasaboutfiveminutes’walkalongtheroad.Hewouldseeanoticeboardonanirongate.
Hefoundhiswaythereeasilyenough,andpassingthroughthegatebegantodescendapaththatleddownwardsthroughtreesandshrubs.
Presentlyhecametoahaltandstoodtherelostinthought.Hismindwasnotonlyonwhathesaw,onwhatlayaroundhim.Insteadhewasconningoveroneortwosentences,andreflectingoveroneortwofactsthathadgivenhimatthetime,asheexpressedittohimself,furiouslytothink.AforgedWill,aforgedWillandagirl.Agirlwhohaddisappeared,thegirlinwhosefavourtheWillhadbeenforged.Ayoungartistwhohadcomehereprofessionallytomakeoutofanabandonedquarryofroughstoneagarden,asunkgarden.Hereagain,Poirotlookedroundhimandnoddedhisheadwithapprovalofthephrase.AQuarryGardenwasanuglyterm.Itsuggestedthenoiseofblastingrock,thecarryingawaybylorriesofvastmassesofstoneforroadmaking.Ithadbehinditindustrialdemand.ButaSunkGarden—thatwasdifferent.Itbroughtwithitvagueremembrancesinhisownmind.SoMrs.Llewellyn-SmythehadgoneonaNationalTrusttourofgardensinIreland.Hehimself,heremembered,hadbeeninIrelandfiveorsixyearsago.Hehadgonetheretoinvestigatearobberyofoldfamilysilver.Therehadbeensomeinterestingpointsaboutthecasewhichhadarousedhiscuriosity,andhaving(asusual)—Poirotaddedthisbrackettohisthoughts—solvedhismissionwithfullsuccess,hehadputinafewdaystravellingaroundandseeingthesights.
Hecouldnotremembernowtheparticulargardenhehadbeentosee.Somewhere,hethought,notveryfarfromCork.Killarney?No,notKillarney.SomewherenotfarfromBantryBay.Andheremembereditbecauseithadbeenagardenquitedifferentfromthegardenswhichhehadsofaracclaimedasthegreatsuccessesofthisage,thegardensoftheChateauxinFrance,theformalbeautyofVersailles.Here,heremembered,hehadstartedwithalittlegroupofpeopleinaboat.Aboatdifficulttogetintoiftwostrongandableboatmenhadnotpracticallyliftedhimin.Theyhadrowedtowardsasmallisland,notaveryinterestingisland,Poirothadthought,andbegantowishthathehadnotcome.Hisfeetwerewetandcoldandthewindwasblowingthroughthecrevicesofhismackintosh.Whatbeauty,hehadthought,whatformality,whatsymmetricalarrangementofgreatbeautycouldtherebeonthisrockyislandwithitssparsetrees?Amistake—definitelyamistake.
Theyhadlandedatthelittlewharf.Thefishermenhadlandedhimwiththesameadroitnesstheyhadshownbefore.Theremainingmembersofthepartyhadgoneonahead,talkingandlaughing.Poirot,readjustinghismackintoshinpositionandtyinguphisshoesagain,hadfollowedthemuptheratherdullpathwithshrubsandbushesandafewsparsetreeseitherside.Amostuninterestingpark,hethought.
Andthen,rathersuddenly,theyhadcomeoutfromamongthescrubontoaterracewithstepsleadingdownfromit.Belowithehadlookeddownintowhatstruckhimatonceassomethingentirelymagical.SomethingasitmighthavebeenifelementalbeingssuchashebelievedwerecommoninIrishpoetry,hadcomeoutoftheirhollowhillsandhadcreatedthere,notsomuchbytoilandhardlabourasbywavingamagicwand,agarden.Youlookeddownintothegarden.Itsbeauty,theflowersandbushes,theartificialwaterbelowinthefountain,thepathroundit,enchanted,beautifulandentirelyunexpected.Hewonderedhowithadbeenoriginally.Itseemedtoosymmetricaltohavebeenaquarry.Adeephollowhereintheraisedgroundoftheisland,butbeyondityoucouldseethewatersoftheBayandthehillsrisingtheotherside,theirmistytopsanenchantingscene.HethoughtperhapsthatitmighthavebeenthatparticulargardenwhichhadstirredMrs.Llewellyn-Smythetopossesssuchagardenofherown,tohavethepleasureoftakinganunkemptquarrysetinthissmug,tidy,elementaryandessentiallyconventionalcountrysideofthatpartofEngland
Andsoshehadlookedaboutfortheproperkindofwell-paidslavetodoherbidding.AndshehadfoundtheprofessionallyqualifiedyoungmancalledMichaelGarfieldandhadbroughthimhereandhadpaidhimnodoubtalargefee,andhadinduecoursebuiltahouseforhim.MichaelGarfield,thoughtPoirot,hadnotfailedher.
Hewentandsatdownonabench,abenchwhichhadbeenstrategicallyplaced.Hepicturedtohimselfwhatthesunkenquarrywouldlooklikeinthespring.Therewereyoungbeechtreesandbircheswiththeirwhiteshiveringbarks.Bushesofthornandwhiterose,littlejunipertrees.Butnowitwasautumn,andautumnhadbeencateredforalso.Thegoldandredofacers,aparrotiaortwo,apaththatledalongawindingwaytofreshdelights.TherewerefloweringbushesofgorseorSpanishbroom—Poirotwasnotfamousforknowingthenamesofeitherflowersorshrubs—onlyrosesandtulipscouldheapproveandrecognize.
Buteverythingthatgrewherehadtheappearanceofhavinggrownbyitsownwill.Ithadnotbeenarrangedorforcedintosubmission.Andyet,thoughtPoirot,thatisnotreallyso.Allhasbeenarranged,allhasbeenplannedtothistinylittleplantthatgrowshereandtothatlargetoweringbushthatrisesupsofiercelywithitsgoldenandredleaves.Ohyes.Allhasbeenplannedhereandarranged.Whatismore,Iwouldsaythatithadobeyed.
Hewonderedthenwhomithadobeyed.Mrs.Llewellyn-SmytheorMichaelGarfield?Itmakesadifference,saidPoirottohimself,yes,itmakesadifference.Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythewasknowledgeable,hefeltsure.Shehadgardenedformanyyears,shewasnodoubtaFellowoftheRoyalHorticulturalSociety,shewenttoshows,sheconsultedcatalogues,shevisitedgardens.Shetookjourneysabroad,nodoubt,forbotanicalreasons.Shewouldknowwhatshewanted,shewouldsaywhatshewanted.Wasthatenough?Poirotthoughtitwasnotquiteenough.Shecouldhavegivenorderstogardenersandmadesureherorderswerecarriedout.Butdidsheknow—reallyknow—seeinhermind’seyeexactlywhatherorderswouldlooklikewhentheyhadbeencarriedout?Notinthefirstyearoftheirplanting,noteventhesecond,butthingsthatshewouldseetwoyearslater,threeyearslater,perhaps,evensixorsevenyearslater.MichaelGarfield,thoughtPoirot,MichaelGarfieldknowswhatshewantsbecauseshehastoldhimwhatshewants,andheknowshowtomakethisbarequarryofstoneandrockblossomasadesertcanblossom.Heplannedandhebroughtitabout;hehadnodoubttheintensepleasurethatcomestoanartistwhoiscommissionedbyaclientwithplentyofmoney.Herewashisconceptionofafairy-landtuckedawayinaconventionalandratherdullhillside,andhereitwouldgrowup.Expensiveshrubsforwhichlargechequeswouldhavetobewritten,andrareplantsthatperhapswouldonlybeobtainablethroughthegoodwillofafriend,andhere,too,thehumblethingsthatwereneededandwhichcostnexttonothingatall.Inspringonthebankjusttohislefttherewouldbeprimroses,theirmodestgreenleavesallbunchedtogetherupthesideofittoldhimthat.
“InEngland,”saidPoirot,“peopleshowyoutheirherbaceousbordersandtheytakeyoutoseetheirrosesandtheytalkatinordinatelengthabouttheiririsgardens,andtoshowtheyappreciateoneofthegreatbeautiesofEngland,theytakeyouonadaywhenthesunshinesandthebeechtreesareinleaf,andunderneaththemareallthebluebells.Yes,itisaverybeautifulsight,butIhavebeenshownit,Ithink,oncetoooften.Iprefer—”thethoughtbrokeoffinhismindashethoughtbacktowhathehadpreferred.AdrivethroughDevonlanes.Awindingroadwithgreatbanksupeachsideofit,andonthosebanksagreatcarpetandshowingofprimroses.Sopale,sosubtlyandtimidlyyellow,andcomingfromthemthatsweet,faint,elusivesmellthattheprimrosehasinlargequantities,whichisthesmellofspringalmostmorethananyothersmell.Andsoitwouldnotbeallrareshrubshere.Therewouldbespringandautumn,therewouldbelittlewildcyclamenandtherewouldbeautumncrocusheretoo.Itwasabeautifulplace.
HewonderedaboutthepeoplewholivedinQuarryHousenow.Hehadtheirnames,aretiredelderlyColonelandhiswife,butsurely,hethought,Spencemighthavetoldhimmoreaboutthem.HehadthefeelingthatwhoeverownedthisnowhadnotgottheloveofitthatdeadMrs.Llewellyn-Smythehadhad.Hegotupandwalkedalongthepathalittleway.Itwasaneasypath,carefullylevelled,designed,hethought,tobeeasyforanelderlypersontowalkwhereshewouldatwill,withoutundueamountofsteepsteps,andataconvenientangleandconvenientintervalsaseatthatlookedrusticbutwasmuchlessrusticthanitlooked.Infact,theangleforthebackandforone’sfeetwasremarkablycomfortable.Poirotthoughttohimself,I’dliketoseethisMichaelGarfield.Hemadeagoodthingofthis.Heknewhisjob,hewasagoodplannerandhegotexperiencedpeopletocarryhisplansout,andhemanaged,Ithink,togethispatron’splanssoarrangedthatshewouldthinkthatthewholeplanninghadbeenhers.ButIdon’tthinkitwasonlyhers.Itwasmostlyhis.Yes,I’dliketoseehim.Ifhe’sstillinthecottage—orthebungalow—thatwasbuiltforhim,Isuppose—histhoughtbrokeoff
Hestared.Staredacrossahollowthatlayathisfeetwherethepathranroundtheothersideofit.StaredatoneparticulargoldenredbranchingshrubwhichframedsomethingthatPoirotdidnotknowforamomentwasreallythereorwasamereeffectofshadowandsunshineandleaves.
WhatamIseeing?thoughtPoirot.Isthistheresultofenchantment?Itcouldbe.Inthisplacehere,itcouldbe.IsitahumanbeingIsee,orisit—whatcoulditbe?Hismindrevertedtosomeadventuresofhismanyyearsagowhichhehadchristened“TheLaboursofHercules.”Somehow,hethought,thiswasnotanEnglishgardeninwhichhewassitting.Therewasanatmospherehere.Hetriedtopinitdown.Ithadqualitiesofmagic,ofenchantment,certainlyofbeauty,bashfulbeauty,yetwild.Here,ifyouwerestagingasceneinthetheatre,youwouldhaveyournymphs,yourfauns,youwouldhaveGreekbeauty,youwouldhavefeartoo.Yes,hethought,inthissunkgardenthereisfear.WhatdidSpence’ssistersay?Somethingaboutamurderthattookplaceintheoriginalquarryyearsago?Bloodhadstainedtherockthere,andafterwards,deathhadbeenforgotten,allhadbeencoveredover,MichaelGarfieldhadcome,hadplannedandhadcreatedagardenofgreatbeauty,andanelderlywomanwhohadnotmanymoreyearstolivehadpaidoutmoneyforit.
Hesawnowitwasayoungmanwhostoodontheothersideofthehollow,framedbygoldenredleaves,andayoungman,soPoirotnowrecognized,ofanunusualbeauty.Onedidn’tthinkofyoungmenthatwaynowadays.Yousaidofayoungmanthathewassexyormadlyattractive,andtheseevidencesofpraiseareoftenquitejustlymade.Amanwithacraggyface,amanwithwildgreasyhairandwhosefeatureswerefarfromregular.Youdidn’tsayayoungmanwasbeautiful.Ifyoudidsayit,yousaiditapologeticallyasthoughyouwerepraisingsomequalitythathadbeenlongdead.Thesexygirlsdidn’twantOrpheuswithhislute,theywantedapopsingerwitharaucousvoice,expressiveeyesandlargemassesofunrulyhair
Poirotgotupandwalkedroundthepath.Ashegottotheothersideofthesteepdescent,theyoungmancameoutfromthetreestomeethim.Hisyouthseemedthemostcharacteristicthingabouthim,yet,asPoirotsaw,hewasnotreallyyoung.Hewaspastthirty,perhapsnearerforty.Thesmileonhisfacewasvery,veryfaint.Itwasnotquiteawelcomingsmile,itwasjustasmileofquietrecognition.Hewastall,slender,withfeaturesofgreatperfectionsuchasaclassicalsculptormighthaveproduced.Hiseyesweredark,hishairwasblackandfittedhimasawovenchainmailhelmetorcapmighthavedone.ForamomentPoirotwonderedwhetherheandthisyoungmanmightnotbemeetinginthecourseofsomepageantthatwasbeingrehearsed.Ifso,thoughtPoirot,lookingdownathisgaloshes,I,alas,shallhavetogotothewardrobemistresstogetmyselfbetterequipped.Hesaid:
“Iamperhapstrespassinghere.Ifso,Imustapologize.Iamastrangerinthispartoftheworld.Ionlyarrivedyesterday.”
“Idon’tthinkonecouldcallittrespassing.”Thevoicewasveryquiet;itwaspoliteyetinacuriouswayuninterested,asifthisman’sthoughtswerereallysomewherequitefaraway.“It’snotexactlyopentothepublic,butpeopledowalkroundhere.OldColonelWestonandhiswifedon’tmind.Theywouldmindiftherewasanydamagedone,butthat’snotreallyverylikely.”
“Novandalism,”saidPoirot,lookingroundhim.“Nolitterthatisnoticeable.Notevenalittlebasket.Thatisveryunusual,isitnot?Anditseemsdeserted—strange.Hereyouwouldthink,”hewenton,“therewouldbeloverswalking.”
“Loversdon’tcomehere,”saidtheyoungman.“It’ssupposedtobeunluckyforsomereason.”
“Areyou,Iwonder,thearchitect?ButperhapsI’mguessingwrong.”
“MynameisMichaelGarfield,”saidtheyoungman.
“Ithoughtitmightbe,”saidPoirot.Hegesticulatedwithahandaroundhim.“Youmadethis?”
“Yes,”saidMichaelGarfield.
“Itisbeautiful,”saidPoirot.“Somehowonefeelsitisalwaysratherunusualwhensomethingbeautifulismadein—well,frankly,whatisadullpartoftheEnglishlandscape.
“Icongratulateyou,”hesaid.“Youmustbesatisfiedwithwhatyouhavedonehere.”
“Isoneeversatisfied?Iwonder.”
“Youmadeit,Ithink,foraMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe.Nolongeralive,Ibelieve.ThereisaColonelandMrs.Weston,Ibelieve?Dotheyownitnow?”
“Yes.Theygotitcheap.It’sabig,ungainlyhouse—noteasytorun—notwhatmostpeoplewant.SheleftitinherWilltome.”
“Andyousoldit.”
“Isoldthehouse.”
“AndnottheQuarryGarden?”
“Ohyes.TheQuarryGardenwentwithit,practicallythrownin,asonemightsay.”
“Nowwhy?”saidPoirot.“Itisinteresting,that.YoudonotmindifIamperhapsalittlecurious?”
“Yourquestionsarenotquitetheusualones,”saidMichaelGarfield.
“Iasknotsomuchforfactsasforreasons.WhydidAdosoandso?WhydidBdosomethingelse?WhywasC’sbehaviourquitedifferentfromthatofAandB?”
“Youshouldbetalkingtoascientist,”saidMichael.“Itisamatter—orsowearetoldnowadays—ofgenesorchromosomes.Thearrangement,thepattern,andsoon.”
“Yousaidjustnowyouwerenotentirelysatisfiedbecausenooneeverwas.Wasyouremployer,yourpatron,whateveryouliketocallher—wasshesatisfied?Withthisthingofbeauty?”
“Uptoapoint,”saidMichael.“Isawtothat.Shewaseasytosatisfy.”
“Thatseemsmostunlikely,”saidHerculePoirot.“Shewas,Ihavelearned,oversixty.Sixty-fiveatleast.Arepeopleofthatageoftensatisfied?”
“ShewasassuredbymethatwhatIhadcarriedoutwastheexactcarryingoutofherinstructionsandimaginationandideas.”
“Andwasit?”
“Doyouaskmethatseriously?”
“No,”saidPoirot.“No.FranklyIdonot.”
“Forsuccessinlife,”saidMichaelGarfield,“onehastopursuethecareeronewants,onehastosatisfysuchartisticleaningsasonehasgot,butonehasaswelltobeatradesman.Youhavetosellyourwares.Otherwiseyouaretiedtocarryingoutotherpeople’sideasinawaywhichwillnotaccordwithone’sown.IcarriedoutmainlymyownideasandIsoldthem,marketedthemperhapsisabetterword,totheclientwhoemployedme,asadirectcarryingoutofherplansandschemes.Itisnotaverydifficultarttolearn.Thereisnomoretoitthansellingachildbrowneggsratherthanwhiteones.Thecustomerhastobeassuredtheyarethebestones,therightones.Theessenceofthecountryside.Shallwesay,thehen’sownpreference?Brown,farm,countryeggs.Onedoesnotsellthemifonesays‘theyarejusteggs.Thereisonlyonedifferenceineggs.Theyarenewlaidortheyarenot.’”
“Youareanunusualyoungman,”saidPoirot.“Arrogant,”hesaidthoughtfully.”
“Perhaps.”
“Youhavemadeheresomethingverybeautiful.Youhaveaddedvisionandplanningtotheroughmaterialofstonehollowedoutinthepursuitofindustry,withnothoughtofbeautyinthathackingout.Youhaveaddedimagination,aresultseeninthemind’seye,thatyouhavemanagedtoraisethemoneytofulfil.Icongratulateyou.Ipaymytribute
“Butatthemomentyouarestillcarryingiton?”
“YouknowwhoIam,then?”
Poirotwaspleasedindubitably.Helikedpeopletoknowwhohewas.Nowadays,hefeared,mostpeopledidnot.
“Youfollowthetrailofblood…Itisalreadyknownhere.Itisasmallcommunity,newstravels.Anotherpublicsuccessbroughtyouhere.”
“Ah,youmeanMrs.Oliver.”
“AriadneOliver.Abestseller.Peoplewishtointerviewher,toknowwhatshethinksaboutsuchsubjectsasstudentunrest,socialism,girls’clothing,shouldsexbepermissive,andmanyotherthingsthatarenoconcernofhers.”
“Yes,yes,”saidPoirot,“deplorable,Ithink.Theydonotlearnverymuch,Ihavenoticed,fromMrs.Oliver.Theylearnonlythatsheisfondofapples.Thathasnowbeenknownfortwentyyearsatleast,Ishouldthink,butshestillrepeatsitwithapleasantsmile.Althoughnow,Ifear,shenolongerlikesapples.”
“Itwasapplesthatbroughtyouhere,wasitnot?”
“ApplesataHallowe’enparty,”saidPoirot.“Youwereatthatparty?”
“No.”
“Youwerefortunate.”
“Fortunate?”MichaelGarfieldrepeatedtheword,somethingthatsoundedfaintlylikesurpriseinhisvoice.
“Tohavebeenoneoftheguestsatapartywheremurderiscommittedisnotapleasantexperience.Perhapsyouhavenotexperiencedit,butItellyou,youarefortunatebecause—”Poirotbecamealittlemoreforeign“—ilyadesennuis,vouscomprenez?Peopleaskyoutimes,dates,impertinentquestions.”Hewenton,“Youknewthechild?”
“Ohyes.TheReynoldsarewellknownhere.Iknowmostofthepeoplelivingroundhere.WeallknoweachotherinWoodleighCommon,thoughinvaryingdegrees.Thereissomeintimacy,somefriendships,somepeopleremainthemerestacquaintances,andsoon.”
“Whatwasshelike,thechildJoyce?”
“Shewas—howcanIputit?—notimportant.Shehadratheranuglyvoice.Shrill.Really,that’saboutallIrememberabouther.I’mnotparticularlyfondofchildren.Mostlytheyboreme.Joyceboredme.Whenshetalked,shetalkedaboutherself.”
“Shewasnotinteresting?”
MichaelGarfieldlookedslightlysurprised.
“Ishouldn’tthinkso,”hesaid.“Doesshehavetobe?”
“Itismyviewthatpeopledevoidofinterestareunlikelytobemurdered.Peoplearemurderedforgain,forfearorforlove.Onetakesone’schoice,butonehastohaveastartingpoint—”
Hebrokeoffandglancedathiswatch.
“Imustproceed.Ihaveanengagementtofulfil.Oncemore,myfelicitations.”
Hewentondown,followingthepathandpickinghiswaycarefully.Hewasgladthatforoncehewasnotwearinghistightpatentleathershoes.
MichaelGarfieldwasnottheonlypersonhewastomeetinthesunkgardenthatday.Ashereachedthebottomhenotedthatthreepathsledfromhereinslightlydifferentdirections.Attheentranceofthemiddlepath,sittingonafallentrunkofatree,achildwasawaitinghim.Shemadethisclearatonce.
“IexpectyouareMr.HerculePoirot,aren’tyou?”shesaid.
Hervoicewasclear,almostbell-likeintone.Shewasafragilecreature.Somethingabouthermatchedthesunkgarden.Adryadorsomeelf-likebeing.
“Thatismyname,”saidPoirot.
“Icametomeetyou,”saidthechild.“Youarecomingtoteawithus,aren’tyou?”
“WithMrs.ButlerandMrs.Oliver?Yes.”
“That’sright.That’sMummyandAuntAriadne.”Sheaddedwithanoteofcensure:“You’reratherlate.”
“Iamsorry.Istoppedtospeaktosomeone.”
“Yes,Isawyou.YouweretalkingtoMichael,weren’tyou?”
“Youknowhim?”
“Ofcourse.We’velivedherequitealongtime.Iknoweverybody.”
Poirotwonderedhowoldshewas.Heaskedher.Shesaid,
“I’mtwelveyearsold.I’mgoingtoboardingschoolnextyear.”
“Willyoubesorryorglad?”
“Idon’treallyknowtillIgetthere.Idon’tthinkIlikethisplaceverymuch,notasmuchasIdid.”Sheadded,“Ithinkyou’dbettercomewithmenow,please.”
“Butcertainly.Butcertainly.Iapologizeforbeinglate.”
“Oh,itdoesn’treallymatter.”
“What’syourname?”
“Miranda.”
“Ithinkitsuitsyou,”saidPoirot.
“AreyouthinkingofShakespeare?”
“Yes.Doyouhaveitinlessons?”
“Yes.MissEmlynreadussomeofit.IaskedMummytoreadsomemore.Ilikedit.Ithasawonderfulsound.Abravenewworld.Thereisn’tanythingreallylikethat,isthere?”
“Youdon’tbelieveinit?”
“Doyou?”
“Thereisalwaysabravenewworld,”saidPoirot,“butonly,youknow,forveryspecialpeople.Theluckyones.Theoneswhocarrythemakingofthatworldwithinthemselves.”
“Oh,Isee,”saidMiranda,withanairofapparentlyseeingwiththeutmostease,thoughwhatshesawPoirotratherwondered.
Sheturned,startedalongthepathandsaid,
“Wegothisway.It’snotveryfar.Youcangothroughthehedgeofourgarden.”
Thenshelookedbackoverhershoulderandpointed,saying:
“Inthemiddlethere,that’swherethefountainwas.”
“Afountain?”
“Oh,yearsago.Isupposeit’sstillthere,underneaththeshrubsandtheazaleasandtheotherthings.Itwasallbrokenup,yousee.Peopletookbitsofitawaybutnobodyhasputanewonethere.”
“Itseemsapity.”
“Idon’tknow.I’mnotsure.Doyoulikefountainsverymuch?”
“Cadépend,”saidPoirot.
“IknowsomeFrench,”saidMiranda.“That’sitdepends,isn’tit?”
“Youarequiteright.Youseemverywell-educated.”
“EveryonesaysMissEmlynisaveryfineteacher.She’sourheadmistress.She’sawfullystrictandabitstern,butshe’sterriblyinterestingsometimesinthethingsshetellsus.”
“Thensheiscertainlyagoodteacher,”saidHerculePoirot.“Youknowthisplaceverywell—youseemtoknowallthepaths.Doyoucomehereoften?”
“Ohyes,it’soneofmyfavouritewalks.NobodyknowswhereIam,yousee,whenIcomehere.Isitintrees—onthebranches,andwatchthings.Ilikethat.Watchingthingshappen.”
“Whatsortofthings?”
“Mostlybirdsandsquirrels.Birdsareveryquarrelsome,aren’tthey?Notlikeinthebitofpoetrythatsays‘birdsintheirlittlenestsagree.’Theydon’treally,dothey?AndIwatchsquirrels.”
“Andyouwatchpeople?”
“Sometimes.Buttherearen’tmanypeoplewhocomehere.”
“Whynot,Iwonder?”
“Isupposetheyareafraid.”
“Whyshouldtheybeafraid?”
“Becausesomeonewaskilledherelongago.Beforeitwasagarden,Imean.Itwasaquarryonceandthentherewasagravelpileorasandpileandthat’swheretheyfoundher.Inthat.Doyouthinktheoldsayingistrue—aboutyou’reborntobehangedorborntobedrowned?”
“Nobodyisborntobehangednowadays.Youdonothangpeopleanylongerinthiscountry.”
“Buttheyhangtheminsomeothercountries.Theyhangtheminthestreets.I’vereaditinthepapers.”
“Ah.Doyouthinkthatisagoodthingorabadthing?”
Miranda’sresponsewasnotstrictlyinanswertothequestion,butPoirotfeltthatitwasperhapsmeanttobe.
“Joycewasdrowned,”shesaid.“Mummydidn’twanttotellme,butthatwasrathersilly,Ithink,don’tyou?Imean,I’mtwelveyearsold.”
“WasJoyceafriendofyours?”
“Yes.Shewasagreatfriendinaway.Shetoldmeveryinterestingthingssometimes.Allaboutelephantsandrajahs.She’dbeentoIndiaonce.IwishI’dbeentoIndia.JoyceandIusedtotelleachotheralloursecrets.Ihaven’tsomuchtotellasMummy.Mummy’sbeentoGreece,youknow.That’swhereshemetAuntAriadne,butshedidn’ttakeme.”
“WhotoldyouaboutJoyce?”
“Mrs.Perring.That’sourcook.ShewastalkingtoMrs.Mindenwhocomesandcleans.Someoneheldherheaddowninabucketofwater.”
“Haveyouanyideawhothatsomeonewas?”
“Ishouldn’tthinkso.Theydidn’tseemtoknow,butthenthey’rebothratherstupidreally.”
“Doyouknow,Miranda?”
“Iwasn’tthere.IhadasorethroatandatemperaturesoMummywouldn’ttakemetotheparty.ButIthinkIcouldknow.Becauseshewasdrowned.That’swhyIaskedifyouthoughtpeoplewereborntobedrowned.Wegothroughthehedgehere.Becarefulofyourclothes.”
Poirotfollowedherlead.TheentrancethroughthehedgefromtheQuarryGardenwasmoresuitedtothebuildofhischildishguidewithherelfinslimness—itwaspracticallyahighwaytoher.ShewassolicitousforPoirot,however,warninghimofadjacentthornbushesandholdingbackthemorepricklycomponentsofthehedge.Theyemergedataspotinthegardenadjacenttoacompostheapandturnedacornerbyaderelictcucumberframetowheretwodustbinsstood.Fromthereonasmallneatgardenmostlyplantedwithrosesgaveeasyaccesstothesmallbungalowhouse.Mirandaledthewaythroughanopenfrenchwindow,announcingwiththemodestprideofacollectorwhohasjustsecuredasampleofararebeetle:
“I’vegothimallright.”
“Miranda,youdidn’tbringhimthroughthehedge,didyou?Yououghttohavegoneroundbythepathatthesidegate.”
“Thisisabetterway,”saidMiranda.“Quickerandshorter.”
“Andmuchmorepainful,Isuspect.”
“Iforget,”saidMrs.Oliver—“Ididintroduceyou,didn’tI,tomyfriendMrs.Butler?”
“Ofcourse.Inthepostoffice.”
Theintroductioninquestionhadbeenamatterofafewmomentswhiletherehadbeenaqueueinfrontofthecounter.PoirotwasbetterablenowtostudyMrs.Oliver’sfriendatclosequarters.Beforeithadbeenamatterofaslimwomaninadisguisingheadscarfandamackintosh.JudithButlerwasawomanofaboutthirty-five,andwhilstherdaughterresembledadryadorawoodnymph,Judithhadmoretheattributesofawater-spirit.ShecouldhavebeenaRhinemaiden.Herlongblondehairhunglimplyonhershoulders,shewasdelicatelymadewitharatherlongfaceandfaintlyhollowcheeks,whilstabovethemwerebigsea-greeneyesfringedwithlongeyelashes.
“I’mverygladtothankyouproperly,MonsieurPoirot,”saidMrs.Butler.“ItwasverygoodofyoutocomedownherewhenAriadneaskedyou.”
“Whenmyfriend,Mrs.Oliver,asksmetodoanythingIalwayshavetodoit,”saidPoirot.
“Whatnonsense,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Shewassure,quitesure,thatyouwouldbeabletofindoutallaboutthisbeastlything.Miranda,dear,willyougointothekitchen?You’llfindthesconesonthewiretrayabovetheoven.”
Mirandadisappeared.Shegave,asshewent,aknowledgeablesmiledirectedathermotherthatsaidasplainlyasasmilecouldsay,“She’sgettingmeoutofthewayforashorttime.”
“Itriednottoletherknow,”saidMiranda’smother,“aboutthis—thishorriblethingthathappened.ButIsupposethatwasaforlornchancefromthestart.”
“Yesindeed,”saidPoirot.“There’snothingthatgoesroundanyresidentialcentrewiththesamerapidityasnewsofadisaster,andparticularlyanunpleasantdisaster.Andanyway,”headded,“onecannotgolongthroughlifewithoutknowingwhatgoesonaroundone.Andchildrenseemparticularlyaptatthatsortofthing.”
“Idon’tknowifitwasBurnsorSirWalterScottwhosaid‘There’sachielamongyoutakingnotes,’”saidMrs.Oliver,“buthecertainlyknewwhathewastalkingabout.”
“JoyceReynoldscertainlyseemstohavenoticedsuchathingasamurder,”saidMrs.Butler.“Onecanhardlybelieveit.”
“BelievethatJoycenoticedit?”
“Imeantbelievethatifshesawsuchathingsheneverspokeaboutitearlier.ThatseemsveryunlikeJoyce.”
“Thefirstthingthateverybodyseemstotellmehere,”saidPoirot,inamildvoice,“isthatthisgirl,JoyceReynolds,wasaliar.”
“Isupposeit’spossible,”saidJudithButler,“thatachildmightmakeupathingandthenitmightturnouttobetrue?”
“Thatiscertainlythefocalpointfromwhichwestart,”saidPoirot.“JoyceReynoldswasunquestionablymurdered.”
“Andyouhavestarted.Probablyyouknowalreadyallaboutit,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Madame,donotaskimpossibilitiesofme.Youarealwaysinsuchahurry.”
“Whynot?”saidMrs.Oliver.“Nobodywouldevergetanythingdonenowadaysiftheyweren’tinahurry.”
Mirandareturnedatthismomentwithaplatefulofscones.
“ShallIputthemdownhere?”sheasked.“Iexpectyou’vefinishedtalkingbynow,haven’tyou?Oristhereanythingelseyouwouldlikemetogetfromthekitchen?”
Therewasagentlemaliceinhervoice.Mrs.ButlerloweredtheGeorgiansilverteapottothefender,switchedonanelectrickettlewhichhadbeenturnedoffjustbeforeitcametotheboil,dulyfilledtheteapotandservedthetea.Mirandahandedhotsconesandcucumbersandwicheswithaseriouseleganceofmanner.
“AriadneandImetinGreece,”saidJudith.
“Ifellintothesea,”saidMrs.Oliver,“whenwewerecomingbackfromoneoftheislands.Ithadgotratherroughandthesailorsalwayssay‘jump’and,ofcourse,theyalwayssayjumpjustwhenthething’satitsfurthestpointwhichmakesitcomerightforyou,butyoudon’tthinkthatcanpossiblyhappenandsoyouditherandyouloseyournerveandyoujumpwhenitlookscloseand,ofcourse,that’sthemomentwhenitgoesfaraway.”Shepausedforbreath.“Judithhelpedfishmeoutanditmadeakindofbondbetweenus,didn’tit?”
“Yes,indeed,”saidMrs.Butler.“Besides,IlikedyourChristianname,”sheadded.“Itseemedveryappropriate,somehow.”
“Yes,IsupposeitisaGreekname,”saidMrs.Oliver.“It’smyown,youknow.Ididn’tjustmakeitupforliterarypurposes.ButnothingAriadne-likehaseverhappenedtome.I’veneverbeendesertedonaGreekislandbymyowntrueloveoranythinglikethat.”
PoirotraisedahandtohismoustacheinordertohidetheslightsmilethathecouldnothelpcomingtohislipsasheenvisagedMrs.Oliverinther?leofadesertedGreekmaiden.
“Wecan’tallliveuptoournames,”saidMrs.Butler.
“No,indeed.Ican’tseeyouinther?leofcuttingoffyourlover’shead.Thatisthewayithappened,isn’tit,JudithandHolofernes,Imean?”
“Itwasherpatrioticduty,”saidMrs.Butler,“forwhich,ifIrememberrightly,shewashighlycommendedandrewarded.”
“I’mnotreallyverywellupinJudithandHolofernes.It’stheApocrypha,isn’tit?Still,ifonecomestothinkofit,peopledogiveotherpeople—theirchildren,Imean—someveryqueernames,don’tthey?Whowastheonewhohammeredsomenailsinsomeone’shead?JaelorSisera.Ineverrememberwhichisthemanorwhichisthewomanthere.Jael,Ithink.Idon’tthinkIrememberanychildhavingbeenchristenedJael.”
“Shelaidbutterbeforehiminalordlydish,”saidMirandaunexpectedly,pausingasshewasabouttoremovetheteatray.
“Don’tlookatme,”saidJudithButlertoherfriend,“itwasn’tIwhointroducedMirandatotheApocrypha.“That’sherschooltraining.”
“Ratherunusualforschoolsnowadays,isn’tit?”saidMrs.Oliver.“Theygivethemethicalideasinstead,don’tthey?”
“NotMissEmlyn,”saidMiranda.“ShesaysthatifwegotochurchnowadaysweonlygetthemodernversionoftheBiblereadtousinthelessonsandthings,andthatithasnoliterarymeritwhatsoever.WeshouldatleastknowthefineproseandblankversesometimesoftheAuthorizedVersion.IenjoyedthestoryofJaelandSiseraverymuch,”sheadded.“It’snotathing,”shesaidmeditatively,“thatIshouldeverhavethoughtofdoingmyself.Hammeringnails,Imean,intosomeone’sheadwhentheywereasleep.”
“Ihopenotindeed,”saidhermother.
“Andhowwouldyoudisposeofyourenemies,Miranda?”askedPoirot.
“Ishouldbeverykind,”saidMirandainagentlycontemplativetone.“Itwouldbemoredifficult,butI’dratherhaveitthatwaybecauseIdon’tlikehurtingthings.I’duseasortofdrugthatgivespeopleeuthanasia.Theywouldgotosleepandhavebeautifuldreamsandtheyjustwouldn’twakeup.”Sheliftedsometeacupsandthebreadandbutterplate.“I’llwashup,Mummy,”shesaid,“ifyouliketotakeMonsieurPoirottolookatthegarden.TherearestillsomeQueenElizabethrosesatthebackoftheborder.”
Shewentoutoftheroomcarefullycarryingtheteatray.
“She’sanastonishingchild,Miranda,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Youhaveaverybeautifuldaughter,Madame,”saidPoirot.
“Yes,Ithinksheisbeautifulnow.Onedoesn’tknowwhattheywilllooklikebythetimetheygrowup.Theyacquirepuppyfatandlooklikewell-fattenedpigssometimes.Butnow—nowsheislikeawoodnymph.”
“OnedoesnotwonderthatsheisfondoftheQuarryGardenwhichadjoinsyourhouse.”
“Iwishshewasn’tsofondofitsometimes.Onegetsnervousaboutpeoplewanderingaboutinisolatedplaces,eveniftheyarequitenearpeopleoravillage.One’s—oh,one’sveryfrightenedallthetimenowadays.That’swhy—whyyou’vegottofindoutwhythisawfulthinghappenedtoJoyce,MonsieurPoirot.Becauseuntilweknowwhothatwas,weshan’tfeelsafeforaminute—aboutourchildren,Imean.TakeMonsieurPoirotoutinthegarden,willyou,Ariadne?I’lljoinyouinaminuteortwo.”
Shetooktheremainingtwocupsandaplateandwentintothekitchen.PoirotandMrs.Oliverwentoutthroughthefrenchwindow.Thesmallgardenwaslikemostautumngardens.Itretainedafewcandlesofgoldenrodandmichaelmasdaisiesinaborder,andsomeQueenElizabethrosesheldtheirpinkstatuesqueheadsuphigh.Mrs.Oliverwalkedrapidlydowntowheretherewasastonebench,satdown,andmotionedPoirottositdownbesideher.
“YousaidyouthoughtMirandawaslikeawoodnymph,”shesaid.“WhatdoyouthinkofJudith?”
“IthinkJudith’snameoughttobeUndine,”saidPoirot.
“Awaterspirit,yes.Yes,shedoeslookasthoughshe’djustcomeoutoftheRhineortheseaoraforestpoolorsomething.Herhairlooksasthoughithadbeendippedinwater.Yetthere’snothinguntidyorscattyabouther,isthere?”
“She,too,isaverylovelywoman,”saidPoirot.
“Whatdoyouthinkabouther?”
“Ihavenothadtimetothinkasyet.Ijustthinkthatsheisbeautifulandattractiveandthatsomethingisgivinghergreatconcern.”
“Well,ofcourse,wouldn’tit?”
“WhatIwouldlike,Madame,isforyoutotellmewhatyouknoworthinkabouther.”
“Well,Igottoknowherverywellonthecruise.Youknow,onedoesmakequiteintimatefriends.Justoneortwopeople.Therestofthem,Imean,theylikeeachotherandallthat,butyoudon’treallygotoanytroubletoseethemagain.Butoneortwoyoudo.Well,JudithwasoneoftheonesIdidwanttoseeagain.”
“Youdidnotknowherbeforethecruise?”
“No.”
“Butyouknowsomethingabouther?”
“Well,justordinarythings.She’sawidow,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Herhusbanddiedagoodmanyyearsago—hewasanairpilot.Hewaskilledinacaraccident.Oneofthosepileupthings,Ithinkitwas,comingofftheMwhat-is-itthatrunsnearhereontotheordinaryroadoneevening,orsomethingofthatkind.Heleftherratherbadlyoff,Iimagine.Shewasverybrokenupaboutit,Ithink.Shedoesn’tliketalkingabouthim.”
“IsMirandaheronlychild?”
“Yes.Judithdoessomepart-timesecretarialworkintheneighbourhood,butshehasn’tgotafixedjob.”
“DidsheknowthepeoplewholivedattheQuarryHouse?”
“YoumeanoldColonelandMrs.Weston?”
“Imeantheformerowner,Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe,wasn’tit?”
“Ithinkso.IthinkI’veheardthatnamementioned.Butshediedtwoorthreeyearsago,soofcourseonedoesn’thearabouthermuch.Aren’tthepeoplewhoarealiveenoughforyou?”demandedMrs.Oliverwithsomeirritation.
“Certainlynot,”saidPoirot.“Ihavealsotoinquireintothosewhohavediedordisappearedfromthescene.”
“Who’sdisappeared?”
“Anaupairgirl,”saidPoirot.
“Ohwell,”saidMrs.Oliver,“they’realwaysdisappearing,aren’tthey?Imean,theycomeoverhereandgettheirfarepaidandthentheygostraightintohospitalbecausethey’repregnantandhaveababy,andcallitAuguste,orHansorBoris,orsomenamelikethat.Orthey’vecomeovertomarrysomeone,ortofollowupsomeyoungmanthey’reinlovewith.Youwouldn’tbelievethethingsfriendstellme!Thethingaboutaupairgirlsseemstobeeitherthey’reHeaven’sgifttooverworkedmothersandyouneverwanttopartwiththem,ortheypinchyourstockings—orgetthemselvesmurdered—”Shestopped.“Oh!”shesaid.
“Calmyourself,Madame,”saidPoirot.“Thereseemsnoreasontobelievethatanaupairgirlhasbeenmurdered—quitethecontrary.”
“Whatdoyoumeanbyquitethecontrary?Itdoesn’tmakesense.”
“Probablynot.Allthesame—”
Hetookouthisnotebookandmadeanentryinit.
“Whatareyouwritingdownthere?”
“Certainthingsthathaveoccurredinthepast.”
“Youseemtobeveryperturbedbythepastaltogether.”
“Thepastisthefatherofthepresent,”saidPoirotsententiously.
Heofferedherthenotebook.
“DoyouwishtoseewhatIhavewritten?”
“OfcourseIdo.Idaresayitwon’tmeananythingtome.Thethingsyouthinkimportanttowritedown,Ineverdo.”
Heheldoutthesmallblacknotebook.
“Deaths:e.g.Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe(Wealthy).JanetWhite(Schoolteacher).Lawyer’sclerk—Knifed,Formerprosecutionforforgery.”
Belowitwaswritten“Operagirldisappears.”
“Whatoperagirl?”
“Itisthewordmyfriend,Spence’ssister,usesforwhatyouandIcallanaupairgirl.”
“Whyshouldshedisappear?”
“Becauseshewaspossiblyabouttogetintosomeformoflegaltrouble.”
Poirot’sfingerwentdowntothenextentry.Thewordwassimply“Forgery,”withtwoquestionmarksafterit.
“Forgery?”saidMrs.Oliver.“Whyforgery?”
“ThatiswhatIasked.Whyforgery?”
“Whatkindofforgery?”
“AWillwasforged,orratheracodiciltoaWill.Acodicilintheaupairgirl’sfavour.”
“Undueinfluence?”suggestedMrs.Oliver.
“Forgeryissomethingrathermoreseriousthanundueinfluence,”saidPoirot
“Idon’tseewhatthat’sgottodowiththemurderofpoorJoyce.”
“NordoI,”saidPoirot.“But,therefore,itisinteresting.”
“Whatisthenextword?Ican’treadit.”
“Elephants.”
“Idon’tseewhatthat’sgottodowithanything.”
“Itmighthave,”saidPoirot,“believeme,itmighthave.”
Herose.
“Imustleaveyounow,”hesaid.“Apologize,please,tomyhostessformynotsayinggood-byetoher.Imuchenjoyedmeetingherandherlovelyandunusualdaughter.Tellhertotakecareofthatchild.”
“‘MymothersaidInevershould,playwiththechildreninthewood,’”quotedMrs.Oliver.“Well,good-bye.Ifyouliketobemysterious,Isupposeyouwillgoonbeingmysterious.Youdon’tevensaywhatyou’regoingtodonext.”
“IhavemadeanappointmentfortomorrowmorningwithMessrsFullerton,HarrisonandLeadbetterinMedchester.”
“Why?”
“Totalkaboutforgeryandothermatters.”
“Andafterthat?”
“Iwanttotalktocertainpeoplewhowerealsopresent.”
“Attheparty?”
“No—atthepreparationfortheparty.”
Twelve
ThepremisesofFullerton,HarrisonandLeadbetterweretypicalofanold-fashionedfirmoftheutmostrespectability.Thehandoftimehadmadeitselffelt.TherewerenomoreHarrisonsandnomoreLeadbetters.TherewasaMr.AtkinsonandayoungMr.Cole,andtherewasstillMr.JeremyFullerton,seniorpartner.
Alean,elderlyman,Mr.Fullerton,withanimpassiveface,adry,legalvoice,andeyesthatwereunexpectedlyshrewd.Beneathhishandrestedasheetofnotepaper,thefewwordsonwhichhehadjustread.Hereadthemonceagain,assessingtheirmeaningveryexactly.Thenhelookedatthemanwhomthenoteintroducedtohim.
“MonsieurHerculePoirot?”Hemadehisownassessmentofthevisitor.Anelderlyman,aforeigner,verydapperinhisdress,unsuitablyattiredastothefeetinpatentleathershoeswhichwere,soMr.Fullertonguessedshrewdly,tootightforhim.Faintlinesofpainwerealreadyetchingthemselvesroundthecornersofhiseyes.Adandy,afop,aforeignerandrecommendedtohimby,ofallpeople,InspectorHenryRaglan,C.I.D.,andalsovouchedforbySuperintendentSpence(retired),formerlyofScotlandYard.
“SuperintendentSpence,eh?”saidMr.Fullerton.
FullertonknewSpence.Amanwhohaddonegoodworkinhistime,hadbeenhighlythoughtofbyhissuperiors.Faintmemoriesflashedacrosshismind.Ratheracelebratedcase,morecelebratedactuallythanithadshowedanysignsofbeing,acasethathadseemedcutanddried.Ofcourse!ItcametohimthathisnephewRoberthadbeenconnectedwithit,hadbeenJuniorCounsel.Apsychopathickiller,ithadseemed,amanwhohadhardlybotheredtotryanddefendhimself,amanwhomyoumighthavethoughtreallywantedtobehanged(becauseithadmeanthangingatthattime).Nofifteenyears,orindefinitenumberofyearsinprison.No.Youpaidthefullpenalty—andmore’sthepitythey’vegivenitup,soMr.Fullertonthoughtinhisdrymind.Theyoungthugsnowadaysthoughttheydidn’triskmuchbyprolongingassaulttothepointwhereitbecamemortal.Onceyourmanwasdead,there’dbenowitnesstoidentifyyou.
Spencehadbeeninchargeofthecase,aquiet,doggedmanwhohadinsistedallalongthatthey’dgotthewrongman.Andtheyhadgotthewrongman,andthepersonwhofoundtheevidencethatthey’dgotthewrongmanwassomesortofanamateurishforeigner.SomeretireddetectivechapfromtheBelgianpoliceforce.Agoodagethen.Andnow—senile,probably,thoughtMr.Fullerton,butallthesamehehimselfwouldtaketheprudentcourse.Information,that’swhatwaswantedfromhim.Informationwhich,afterall,couldnotbeamistaketogive,sincehecouldnotseethathewaslikelytohaveanyinformationthatcouldbeusefulinthisparticularmatter.Acaseofchildhomicide.
Mr.Fullertonmightthinkhehadafairlyshrewdideaofwhohadcommittedthathomicide,buthewasnotsosureashewouldliketobe,becausetherewereatleastthreeclaimantsinthematter.Anyoneofthreeyoungne’er-do-wellsmighthavedoneit.Wordsfloatedthroughhishead.Mentallyretarded.Psychiatrist’sreport.That’showthewholematterwouldend,nodoubt.Allthesame,todrownachildduringaparty—thatwasratheradifferentcupofteafromoneoftheinnumerableschoolchildrenwhodidnotarrivehomeandwhohadacceptedaliftinacarafterhavingbeenrepeatedlywarnednottodoso,andwhohadbeenfoundinanearbycopseorgravelpit.Agravelpitnow.Whenwasthat?Many,manyyearsagonow.
Allthistookaboutfourminutes’timeandMr.Fullertonthenclearedhisthroatinaslightlyasthmaticfashion,andspoke.
“MonsieurHerculePoirot,”hesaidagain.“WhatcanIdoforyou?Isupposeit’sthebusinessofthisyounggirl,JoyceReynolds.Nastybusiness,verynastybusiness.Ican’tseeactuallywhereIcanassistyou.Iknowverylittleaboutitall.”
“Butyouare,Ibelieve,thelegaladvisertotheDrakefamily?”
“Ohyes,yes.HugoDrake,poorchap.Verynicefellow.I’veknownthemforyears,eversincetheyboughtAppleTreesandcameheretolive.Sadthing,polio—hecontracteditwhentheywereholidayingabroadoneyear.Mentally,ofcourse,hishealthwasquiteunimpaired.It’ssadwhenithappenstoamanwhohasbeenagoodathleteallhislife,asportsman,goodatgamesandalltherestofit.Yes.Sadbusinesstoknowyou’reacrippleforlife.”
“Youwerealso,Ibelieve,inchargeofthelegalaffairsofMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe?”
“Theaunt,yes.Remarkablewomanreally.Shecameheretoliveafterherhealthbrokedown,soastobenearhernephewandhiswife.Boughtthatwhiteelephantofaplace,QuarryHouse.Paidfarmorethanitwasworth—butmoneywasnoobjecttoher.Shewasverywelloff.Shecouldhavefoundamoreattractivehouse,butitwasthequarryitselfthatfascinatedher.Gotalandscapegardenerontoit,fellowquitehighupinhisprofession,Ibelieve.Oneofthosehandsome,long-hairedchaps,buthehadabilityallright.Hedidwellforhimselfinthisquarrygardenwork.Gothimselfquiteareputationoverit,illustratedinHomesandGardensandalltherestofit.Yes,Mrs.Llewellyn-Smytheknewhowtopickpeople.Itwasn’tjustaquestionofahandsomeyoungmanasaprotégé.Someelderlywomenarefoolishthatway,butthischaphadbrainsandwasatthetopofhisprofession.ButI’mwanderingonabit.Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythediednearlytwoyearsago.”
“Quitesuddenly.”
FullertonlookedatPoirotsharply.
“Well,no,Iwouldn’tsaythat.Shehadaheartconditionanddoctorstriedtokeepherfromdoingtoomuch,butshewasthesortofwomanthatyoucouldn’tdictateto.Shewasn’tahypochondriactype.”Hecoughedandsaid,“ButIexpectwearegettingawayfromthesubjectaboutwhichyoucametotalktome.”
“Notreally,”saidPoirot,“althoughIwouldlike,ifImay,toaskyouafewquestionsonacompletelydifferentmatter.Someinformationaboutoneofyouremployees,bynameLesleyFerrier.”
Mr.Fullertonlookedsomewhatsurprised.“LesleyFerrier?”hesaid.“LesleyFerrier.Letmesee.Reallyyouknow,I’dnearlyforgottenhisname.Yes,yes,ofcourse.Gothimselfknifed,didn’the?”
“ThatisthemanImean.”
“Well,Idon’treallyknowthatIcantellyoumuchabouthim.Ittookplacesomeyearsago.KnifedneartheGreenSwanonenight.Noarrestwasevermade.Idaresaythepolicehadsomeideawhowasresponsible,butitwasmainly,Ithink,amatterofgettingevidence.”
“Themotivewasemotional?”inquiredPoirot.
“Ohyes,Ishouldthinkcertainlyso.Jealousy,youknow.He’dbeengoingsteadywithamarriedwoman.Herhusbandhadapub.TheGreenSwanatWoodleighCommon.Unpretentiousplace.ThenitseemsyoungLesleystartedplayingaroundwithanotheryoungwoman—ormorethanone,itwassaid.Quiteaoneforthegirls,hewas.Therewasabitoftroubleonceortwice.”
“Youweresatisfiedwithhimasanemployee?”
“Iwouldratherdescribeitasnotdissatisfied.Hehadhispoints.Hehandledclientswellandwasstudyingforhisarticles,andifonlyhe’dpaidmoreattentiontohispositionandkeepingupagoodstandardofbehaviour,itwouldhavebeenbetterinsteadofmixinghimselfupwithonegirlafteranother,mostofwhomIamaptinmyold-fashionedwaytoconsiderasconsiderablybeneathhiminstation.TherewasarowonenightattheGreenSwan,andLesleyFerrierwasknifedonhiswayhome.”
“Wasoneofthegirlsresponsible,orwoulditbeMrs.GreenSwan,doyouthink?”
“Really,itisnotacaseofknowinganythingdefinite.Ibelievethepoliceconsidereditwasacaseofjealousy—but—”Heshruggedhisshoulders.
“Butyouarenotsure?”
“Oh,ithappens,”saidMr.Fullerton.“‘Hellhathnofurylikeawomanscorned.’ThatisalwaysbeingquotedinCourt.Sometimesit’strue.”
“ButIthinkIdiscernthatyouyourselfarenotatallsurethatthatwasthecasehere.”
“Well,Ishouldhavepreferredrathermoreevidence,shallwesay.Thepolicewouldhavepreferredrathermoreevidence,too.Publicprosecutorthrewitout,Ibelieve.”
“Itcouldhavebeensomethingquitedifferent?”
“Ohyes.Onecouldpropoundseveraltheories.Notaverystablecharacter,youngFerrier.Wellbroughtup.Nicemother—awidow.Fathernotsosatisfactory.Gothimselfoutofseveralscrapesbytheskinofhisteeth.Hardluckonhiswife.Ouryoungmaninsomewaysresembledhisfather.Hewasassociatedonceortwicewithratheradoubtfulcrowd
“Someonemighthavehaditinforhim,youthink?”
“Quitepossible.Theseassociations—gangsisarathermelodramaticword—butyourunacertaindangerwhenyougettangledupwiththem.Anyideathatyoumaysplitonthem,andaknifebetweenyourshoulderbladesisn’tanuncommonthingtohappen.”
“Nobodysawithappen?”
“No.Nobodysawithappen.Theywouldn’t,ofcourse.Whoevertookthejobonwouldhaveallthearrangementsnicelymade.Alibiattheproperplaceandtime,andsoonandsoon.”
“Yetsomebodymighthaveseenithappen.Somebodyquiteunlikely.Achild,forinstance.”
“Lateatnight?IntheneighbourhoodoftheGreenSwan?Hardlyaverycredibleidea,MonsieurPoirot.”
“Achild,”persistedPoirot,“whomightremember.Achildcominghomefromafriend’shouse.Atsomeshortdistance,perhaps,fromherownhome.Shemighthavebeencomingbyafootpathorseensomethingfrombehindahedge.”
“Really,MonsieurPoirot,whatanimaginationyouhavegot.Whatyouaresayingseemstomemostunlikely.”
“Itdoesnotseemsounlikelytome,”saidPoirot.“Childrendoseethings.Theyaresooften,yousee,notexpectedtobewheretheyare.”
“Butsurelywhentheygohomeandrelatewhattheyhaveseen?”
“Theymightnot,”saidPoirot.“Theymightnot,yousee,besureofwhattheyhadseen.Especiallyifwhattheyhadseenhadbeenfaintlyfrighteningtothem.Childrendonotalwaysgohomeandreportastreetaccidenttheyhaveseen,orsomeunexpectedviolence.Childrenkeeptheirsecretsverywell.Keepthemandthinkaboutthem.Sometimestheyliketofeelthattheyknowasecret,asecretwhichtheyarekeepingtothemselves.”
“They’dtelltheirmothers,”saidMr.Fullerton.
“Iamnotsosureofthat,”saidPoirot.“Inmyexperiencethethingsthatchildrendonottelltheirmothersarequitenumerous.”
“Whatinterestsyousomuch,mayIknow,aboutthiscaseofLesleyFerrier?Theregrettabledeathofayoungmanbyaviolencewhichissolamentablyoftenamongstusnowadays?”
“Iknownothingabouthim.ButIwantedtoknowsomethingabouthimbecausehisisaviolentdeaththatoccurrednotmanyyearsago.Thatmightbeimportanttome.”
“Youknow,Mr.Poirot,”saidMr.Fullerton,withsomeslightacerbity.“Ireallycannotquitemakeoutwhyyouhavecometome,andinwhatyouarereallyinterested.Youcannotsurelysuspectanytie-upbetweenthedeathofJoyceReynoldsandthedeathofayoungmanofpromisebutslightlycriminalactivitieswhohasbeendeadforsomeyears?”
“Onecansuspectanything,”saidPoirot.“Onehastofindoutmore.”
“Excuseme,whatonehastohaveinallmattersdealingwithcrime,isevidence.”
“YouhaveperhapsheardthatthedeadgirlJoycewasheardbyseveralwitnessestosaythatshehadwithherowneyeswitnessedamurder.”
“Inaplacelikethis,”saidMr.Fullerton,“oneusuallyhearsanyrumourthatmaybegoinground.Oneusuallyhearsit,too,ifImayaddthesewords,inasingularlyexaggeratedformnotusuallyworthyofcredence.”
“Thatalso,”saidPoirot,“isquitetrue.Joycewas,Igather,justthirteenyearsofage.Achildofninecouldremembersomethingshehadseen—ahit-and-runaccident,afightorastrugglewithknivesonadarkevening,oraschoolteacherwhowasstrangled,say—allthesethingsmightleaveaverystrongimpressiononachild’smindaboutwhichshewouldnotspeak,beinguncertain,perhaps,oftheactualfactsshehadseen,andmullingthemoverinherownmind.Forgettingaboutthemeven,possibly,untilsomethinghappenedtoremindher.Youagreethatthatisapossiblehappening?”
“Ohyes,yes,butIhardly—Ithinkitisanextremelyfar-fetchedsupposition.”
“Youhad,also,Ibelieve,adisappearancehereofaforeigngirl.Hername,Ibelieve,wasOlgaorSonia—Iamnotsureofthesurname.”
“OlgaSeminoff.Yes,indeed.”
“Not,Ifear,averyreliablecharacter?”
“No.”
“ShewascompanionornurseattendanttoMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe,wasshenot,whomyoudescribedtomejustnow?Mrs.Drake’saunt—”
“Yes.Shehadhadseveralgirlsinthatposition—twootherforeigngirls,Ithink,oneofthemwithwhomshequarrelledalmostimmediately,andanotheronewhowasnicebutpainfullystupid.Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythewasnotonetosufferfoolsgladly.Olga,herlastventure,seemstohavesuitedherverywell.Shewasnot,ifIrememberrightly,aparticularlyattractivegirl,”saidMr.Fullerton.“Shewasshort,ratherstocky,hadratheradourmanner,andpeopleintheneighbourhooddidnotlikeherverymuch.”
“ButMrs.Llewellyn-Smythedidlikeher,”suggestedPoirot.
“Shebecameverymuchattachedtoher—unwiselyso,itseemedatonemoment.”
“Ah,indeed.”
“Ihavenodoubt,”saidMr.Fullerton,“thatIamnottellingyouanythingthatyouhavenotheardalready.Thesethings,asIsay,goroundtheplacelikewildfire.”
“IunderstandthatMrs.Llewellyn-Smytheleftalargesumofmoneytothegirl.”
“Amostsurprisingthingtohappen,”saidMr.Fullerton.“Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythehadnotchangedherfundamentaltestamentarydispositionformanyyears,exceptforaddingnewcharitiesoralteringlegaciesleftvoidbydeath.PerhapsIamtellingyouwhatyouknowalready,ifyouareinterestedinthismatter.Hermoneyhadalwaysbeenleftjointlytohernephew,HugoDrake,andhiswife,whowasalsohisfirstcousin,andsoalsoniecetoMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe.Ifeitherofthempredeceasedherthemoneywenttothesurvivor.Agoodmanybequestswerelefttocharitiesandtooldservants.Butwhatwasallegedtobeherfinaldisposalofherpropertywasmadeaboutthreeweeksbeforeherdeath,andnot,asheretofore,drawnupbyourfirm.Itwasacodicilwritteninherownhandwriting.Itincludedoneortwocharities—notsomanyasbefore—theoldservantshadnolegaciesatall,andthewholeresidueofherconsiderablefortunewaslefttoOlgaSeminoffingratitudeforthedevotedserviceandaffectionshehadshownher.Amostastonishingdisposition,onethatseemedtotallyunlikeanythingMrs.Llewellyn-Smythehadeverdonebefore.”
“Andthen?”saidPoirot.
“Youhavepresumablyheardmoreorlessthedevelopments.Fromtheevidenceofhandwritingexperts,itbecameclearthatthecodicilwasacompleteforgery.ItboreonlyafaintresemblancetoMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’shandwriting,nomorethanthat.Mrs.SmythehaddislikedthetypewriterandhadfrequentlygotOlgatowritelettersofapersonalnature,asfaraspossiblecopyingheremployer’shandwriting—sometimes,even,signingtheletterwithheremployer’ssignature.Shehadhadplentyofpracticeindoingthis.ItseemsthatwhenMrs.Llewellyn-Smythediedthegirlwentonestepfurtherandthoughtthatshewasproficientenoughtomakethehandwritingacceptableasthatofheremployer.Butthatsortofthingwon’tdowithexperts.No,indeeditwon’t.”
“Proceedingswereabouttobetakentocontestthedocument?”
“Quiteso.Therewas,ofcourse,theusuallegaldelaybeforetheproceedingsactuallycametocourt.Duringthatperiodtheyoungladylosthernerveandwell,asyousaidyourselfjustnow,she—disappeared.”
Thirteen
WhenHerculePoirothadtakenhisleaveanddeparted,JeremyFullertonsatbeforehisdeskdrumminggentlywithhisfingertips.Hiseyes,however,werefaraway—lostinthought.
Hepickedupadocumentinfrontofhimanddroppedhiseyesdowntoit,butwithoutfocusinghisglance.Thediscreetbuzzofthehousetelephonecausedhimtopickupthereceiveronhisdesk.
“Yes,MissMiles?”
“Mr.Holdenishere,sir.”
“Yes.Yes,hisappointment,Ibelievewasfornearlythreequartersofanhourago.Didhegiveanyreasonforhavingbeensolate?…Yes,yes.Iquitesee.Ratherthesameexcusehegavelasttime.WillyoutellhimI’veseenanotherclient,andIamnowtooshortoftime.Makeanappointmentwithhimfornextweek,willyou?Wecan’thavethissortofthinggoingon.”
“Yes,Mr.Fullerton.”
Hereplacedthereceiverandsatlookingthoughtfullydownatthedocumentinfrontofhim.Hewasstillnotreadingit.Hismindwasgoingovereventsofthepast.Twoyears—closeontwoyearsago—andthatstrangelittlemanthismorningwithhispatentleathershoesandhisbigmoustaches,hadbroughtitbacktohim,askingallthosequestions.
Nowhewasgoingoverinhisownmindaconversationofnearlytwoyearsago.
Hesawagain,sittinginthechairoppositehim,agirl,ashort,stockyfigure—theolivebrownskin,thedarkredgenerousmouth,theheavycheekbonesandthefiercenessoftheblueeyesthatlookedintohisbeneaththeheavy,beetlingbrows.Apassionateface,afacefullofvitality,afacethathadknownsuffering—wouldprobablyalwaysknowsuffering—butwouldneverlearntoacceptsuffering.Thekindofwomanwhowouldfightandprotestuntiltheend.Wherewasshenow,hewondered?Somehoworothershehadmanaged—whathadshemanagedexactly?Whohadhelpedher?Hadanyonehelpedher?Somebodymusthavedoneso.
Shewasbackagain,hesupposed,insometrouble-strickenspotinCentralEuropewhereshehadcomefrom,whereshebelonged,whereshehadhadtogobacktobecausetherewasnoothercourseforhertotakeunlessshewascontenttoloseherliberty.
JeremyFullertonwasanupholderofthelaw.Hebelievedinthelaw,hewascontemptuousofmanyofthemagistratesoftodaywiththeirweaksentences,theiracceptanceofscholasticneeds.Thestudentswhostolebooks,theyoungmarriedwomenwhodenudedthesupermarkets,thegirlswhofilchedmoneyfromtheiremployers,theboyswhowreckedtelephoneboxes,noneoftheminrealneed,noneofthemdesperate,mostofthemhadknownnothingbutoverindulgenceinbringingupandaferventbeliefthatanythingtheycouldnotaffordtobuywastheirstotake.Yetalongwithhisintrinsicbeliefintheadministrationofthelawjustly,Mr.Fullertonwasamanwhohadcompassion.Hecouldbesorryforpeople.Hecouldbesorry,andwassorry,forOlgaSeminoffthoughhewasquiteunaffectedbythepassionateargumentssheadvancedforherself.
“Icametoyouforhelp.Ithoughtyouwouldhelpme.Youwerekindlastyear.YouhelpedmewithformssothatIcouldremainanotheryearinEngland.Sotheysaytome:‘Youneednotansweranyquestionsyoudonotwishto.Youcanberepresentedbyalawyer.’SoIcometoyou.”
“Thecircumstancesyouhaveinstanced—”andMr.Fullertonrememberedhowdrilyandcoldlyhehadsaidthat,allthemoredrilyandcoldlybecauseofthepitythatlaybehindthedrynessofthestatement“—donotapply.InthiscaseIamnotatlibertytoactforyoulegally.IamrepresentingalreadytheDrakefamily.Asyouknow,IwasMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’ssolicitor.”
“Butsheisdead.Shedoesnotwantasolicitorwhensheisdead.”
“Shewasfondofyou,”saidMr.Fullerton.
“Yes,shewasfondofme.ThatiswhatIamtellingyou.Thatiswhyshewantedtogivemethemoney.”
“Allhermoney?”
“Whynot?Whynot?Shedidnotlikeherrelations.”
“Youarewrong.Shewasveryfondofhernieceandnephew.”
“Well,then,shemayhavelikedMr.DrakebutshedidnotlikeMrs.Drake.Shefoundherverytiresome.Mrs.Drakeinterfered.ShewouldnotletMrs.Llewellyn-Smythedoalwayswhatsheliked.Shewouldnotlethereatthefoodsheliked.”
“Sheisaveryconscientiouswoman,andshetriedtogetheraunttoobeythedoctor’sordersastodietandnottoomuchexerciseandmanyotherthings.”
“Peopledonotalwayswanttoobeyadoctor’sorders.Theydonotwanttobeinterferedwithbyrelations.Theylikelivingtheirownlivesanddoingwhattheywantandhavingwhattheywant.Shehadplentyofmoney.Shecouldhavewhatshewanted!Shecouldhaveasmuchasshelikedofeverything.Shewasrich—rich—rich,andshecoulddowhatshelikedwithhermoney.Theyhavealreadyquiteenoughmoney,Mr.andMrs.Drake.Theyhaveafinehouseandclothesandtwocars.Theyareverywell-to-do.Whyshouldtheyhaveanymore?”
“Theywereheronlylivingrelations.”
“Shewantedmetohavethemoney.Shewassorryforme.SheknewwhatIhadbeenthrough.Sheknewaboutmyfather,arrestedbythepoliceandtakenaway.Weneversawhimagain,mymotherandI.Andthenmymotherandhowshedied.Allmyfamilydied.Itisterrible,whatIhaveendured.Youdonotknowwhatitisliketoliveinapolicestate,asIhavelivedinit.No,no.Youareonthesideofthepolice.Youarenotonmyside.”
“No,”Mr.Fullertonsaid,“Iamnotonyourside.Iamverysorryforwhathashappenedtoyou,butyou’vebroughtthistroubleaboutyourself.”
“Thatisnottrue!ItisnottruethatIhavedoneanythingIshouldnotdo.WhathaveIdone?Iwaskindtoher,Iwasnicetoher.Ibroughtherinlotsofthingsthatshewasnotsupposedtoeat.Chocolatesandbutter.Allthetimenothingbutvegetablefats.Shedidnotlikevegetablefats.Shewantedbutter.Shewantedlotsofbutter.”
“It’snotjustaquestionofbutter,”saidMr.Fullerton.
“Ilookedafterher,Iwasnicetoher!Andsoshewasgrateful.AndthenwhenshediedandIfindthatinherkindnessandheraffectionshehasleftasignedpaperleavingallhermoneytome,thenthoseDrakescomealongandsayIshallnothaveit.Theysayallsortsofthings.TheysayIhadabadinfluence.Andthentheysayworsethingsthanthat.Muchworse.TheysayIwrotetheWillmyself.ThatisnonsenseShewroteit.Shewroteit.Andthenshesentmeoutoftheroom.ShegotthecleaningwomanandJimthegardener.Shesaidtheyhadtosignthepaper,notme.BecauseIwasgoingtogetthemoney.WhyshouldnotIhavethemoney?WhyshouldInothavesomegoodluckinmylife,somehappiness?Itseemedsowonderful.AllthethingsIplannedtodowhenIknewaboutit.”
“Ihavenodoubt,yes,Ihavenodoubt.”
“Whyshouldn’tIhaveplans?WhyshouldnotIrejoice?IamgoingtobehappyandrichandhaveallthethingsIwant.WhatdidIdowrong?Nothing.Nothing,Itellyou.Nothing.”
“Ihavetriedtoexplaintoyou,”saidMr.Fullerton.
“Thatisalllies.YousayItelllies.YousayIwrotethepapermyself.Ididnotwriteitmyself.Shewroteit.Nobodycansayanythingdifferent.”
“Certainpeoplesayagoodmanythings,”saidMr.Fullerton.“Nowlisten.Stopprotestingandlistentome.Itistrue,isitnot,thatMrs.Llewellyn-Smytheinthelettersyouwroteforher,oftenaskedyoutocopyherhandwritingasnearlyasyoucould?Thatwasbecauseshehadanold-fashionedideathattowritetypewrittenletterstopeoplewhoarefriendsorwithwhomyouhaveapersonalacquaintance,isanactofrudeness.ThatisasurvivalfromVictoriandays.Nowadaysnobodycareswhethertheyreceivehandwrittenlettersortypewrittenones.ButtoMrs.Llewellyn-Smythethatwasdiscourtesy.YouunderstandwhatIamsaying?”
“Yes,Iunderstand.Andsosheasksme.Shesays,‘Now,Olga,’shesays.‘ThesefourlettersyouwillanswerasIhavetoldyouandthatyouhavetakendowninshorthand.Butyouwillwritetheminhandwritingandyouwillmakethehandwritingasclosetomineaspossible.’Andshetoldmetopractisewritingherhandwriting,tonoticehowshemadehera’s,andherb’sandherl’sandallthedifferentletters.‘Solongasitisreasonablylikemyhandwriting,’shesaid,‘thatwilldo,andthenyoucansignmyname.ButIdonotwantpeopletothinkthatIamnolongerabletowritemyownletters.Although,asyouknow,therheumatisminmywristisgettingworseandIfinditmoredifficult,butIdon’twantmypersonalletterstypewritten.’”
“Youcouldhavewrittentheminyourordinaryhandwriting,”saidMr.Fullerton,“andputanoteattheendsaying‘persecretary’orperinitialsifyouliked.”
“Shedidnotwantmetodothat.Shewantedittobethoughtthatshewrotethelettersherself.”
Andthat,Mr.Fullertonthought,couldbetrueenough.ItwasverylikeLouiseLlewellyn-Smythe.Shewasalwayspassionatelyresentfulofthefactthatshecouldnolongerdothethingssheusedtodo,thatshecouldnolongerwalkfarorgouphillsquicklyorperformcertainactionswithherhands,herrighthandespecially.Shewantedtobeabletosay“I’mperfectlywell,perfectlyallrightandthere’snothingIcan’tdoifIsetmymindtoit.”Yes,whatOlgawastellinghimnowwasperfectlytrue,andbecauseitwastrueitwasoneofthereasonswhythecodicilappendedtothelastWillproperlydrawnoutandsignedbyLouiseLlewellyn-Smythehadbeenacceptedatfirstwithoutsuspicion.Itwasinhisownoffice,Mr.Fullertonreflected,thatsuspicionshadarisenbecausebothheandhisyoungerpartnerknewMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’shandwritingverywell.ItwasyoungColewhohadfirstsaid,
“Youknow,Ireallycan’tbelievethatLouiseLlewellyn-Smythewrotethatcodicil.IknowshehadarthritislatelybutlookatthesespecimensofherownwritingthatI’vebroughtalongfromamongstherpaperstoshowyou.There’ssomethingwrongaboutthatcodicil.”
Mr.Fullertonhadagreedthattherewassomethingwrongaboutit.Hehadsaidtheywouldtakeexpertopiniononthishandwritingquestion.Theanswerhadbeenquitedefinite.Separateopinionshadnotvaried.ThehandwritingofthecodicilwasdefinitelynotthatofLouiseLlewellyn-Smythe.IfOlgahadbeenlessgreedy,Mr.Fullertonthought,ifshehadbeencontenttowriteacodicilbeginningasthisonehaddone—“Becauseofhergreatcareandattentiontomeandtheaffectionandkindnessshehasshownme,Ileave—”Thatwashowithadbegun,thatwashowitcouldhavebegun,andifithadgoneontospecifyagoodroundsumofmoneylefttothedevotedaupairgirl,therelationsmighthaveconsidereditoverdone,buttheywouldhaveaccepteditwithoutquestioning.Buttocutouttherelationsaltogether,thenephewwhohadbeenhisaunt’sresiduarylegateeinthelastfourwillsshehadmadeduringaperiodofnearlytwentyyears,toleaveeverythingtothestrangerOlgaSeminoff—thatwasnotinLouiseLlewellyn-Smythe’scharacter.Infact,apleaofundueinfluencecouldupsetsuchadocumentanyway.No.Shehadbeengreedy,thishot,passionatechild.PossiblyMrs.Llewellyn-Smythehadtoldherthatsomemoneywouldbelefttoherbecauseofherkindness,becauseofherattention,becauseofafondnesstheoldladywasbeginningtofeelforthisgirlwhofulfilledallherwhims,whodidwhateversheaskedher.AndthathadopenedupavistaforOlga.Shewouldhaveeverything.Theoldladyshouldleaveeverythingtoher,andshewouldhaveallthemoney.Allthemoneyandthehouseandtheclothesandthejewels.Everything.Agreedygirl.Andnowretributionhadcaughtupwithher.
AndMr.Fullerton,againsthiswill,againsthislegalinstinctsandagainstagooddealmore,feltsorryforher.Verysorryforher.Shehadknownsufferingsinceshewasachild,hadknowntherigoursofapolicestate,hadlostherparents,lostabrotherandasisterandknowninjusticeandfear,andithaddevelopedinheratraitthatshehadnodoubtbeenbornwithbutwhichshehadneverbeenablesofartoindulge.Ithaddevelopedachildishpassionategreed.
“Everyoneisagainstme,”saidOlga.“Everyone.Youareallagainstme.YouarenotfairbecauseIamaforeigner,becauseIdonotbelongtothiscountry,becauseIdonotknowwhattosay,whattodo.WhatcanIdo?WhydoyounottellmewhatIcando?”
“BecauseIdonotreallythinkthereisanythingmuchyoucando,”saidMr.Fullerton.“Yourbestchanceistomakeacleanbreastofthings.”
“IfIsaywhatyouwantmetosay,itwillbeallliesandnottrue.ShemadethatWill.Shewroteitdownthere.Shetoldmetogooutoftheroomwhiletheotherssignedit.”
“Thereisevidenceagainstyou,youknow.TherearepeoplewhowillsaythatMrs.Llewellyn-Smytheoftendidnotknowwhatshewassigning.Shehadseveraldocumentsofdifferentkinds,andshedidnotalwaysrereadwhatwasputbeforeher.”
“Well,thenshedidnotknowwhatshewassaying.”
“Mydearchild,”saidMr.Fullerton,“yourbesthopeisthefactthatyouareafirstoffender,thatyouareaforeigner,thatyouunderstandtheEnglishlanguageonlyinaratherrudimentaryform.Inthatcaseyoumaygetoffwithaminorsentence—oryoumay,indeed,getputonprobation.”
“Oh,words.Nothingbutwords.Ishallbeputinprisonandneverletoutagain.”
“Nowyouaretalkingnonsense,”Mr.Fullertonsaid.
“ItwouldbebetterifIranaway,ifIranawayandhidmyselfsothatnobodycouldfindme.”
“Oncethereisawarrantoutforyourarrest,youwouldbefound.”
“NotifIdiditquickly.NotifIwentatonce.Notifsomeonehelpedme.Icouldgetaway.GetawayfromEngland.Inaboatoraplane.Icouldfindsomeonewhoforgespassportsorvisas,orwhateveryouhavetohave.Someonewhowilldosomethingforme.Ihavefriends.Ihavepeoplewhoarefondofme.Somebodycouldhelpmetodisappear.ThatiswhatIneeded.Icouldputonawig.Icouldwalkaboutoncrutches.”
“Listen,”Mr.Fullertonhadsaid,andhehadspokenthenwithauthority,“Iamsorryforyou.Iwillrecommendyoutoalawyerwhowilldohisbestforyou.Youcan’thopetodisappear.Youaretalkinglikeachild.”
“Ihavegotenoughmoney.Ihavesavedmoney.”Andthenshehadsaid,“Youhavetriedtobekind.Yes,Ibelievethat.Butyouwillnotdoanythingbecauseitisallthelaw—thelaw.Butsomeonewillhelpme.Someonewill.AndIshallgetawaywherenobodywilleverfindme.”
Nobody,Mr.Fullertonthought,hadfoundher.Hewondered—yes;hewonderedverymuch—whereshewasorcouldbenow.
Fourteen
I
AdmittedtoAppleTrees,HerculePoirotwasshownintothedrawingroomandtoldthatMrs.Drakewouldnotbelong.
Inpassingthroughthehallheheardthehumoffemalevoicesbehindwhathetooktobethediningroomdoor.
Poirotcrossedtothedrawingroomwindowandsurveyedtheneatandpleasantgarden.Welllaidout,keptstudiouslyincontrol.Rampantautumnmichaelmasdaisiesstillsurvived,tiedupseverelytosticks;chrysanthemumshadnotyetrelinquishedlife.Therewerestillapersistentroseortwoscorningtheapproachofwinter.
Poirotcoulddiscernnosignasyetofthepreliminaryactivitiesofalandscapegardener.Allwascareandconvention.HewonderedifMrs.DrakehadbeenonetoomanyforMichaelGarfield.Hehadspreadhisluresinvain.Itshowedeverysignofremainingasplendidlykeptsuburbangarden.
Thedooropened.
“Iamsorrytohavekeptyouwaiting,MonsieurPoirot,”saidMrs.Drake.
Outsideinthehalltherewasadiminishinghumofvoicesasvariouspeopletooktheirleaveanddeparted.
“It’sourchurchChristmasfête,”explainedMrs.Drake.“ACommitteeMeetingforarrangementsforitandalltherestofit.Thesethingsalwaysgoonmuchlongerthantheyoughtto,ofcourse.Somebodyalwaysobjectstosomething,orhasagoodidea—thegoodideausuallybeingaperfectlyimpossibleone.”
Therewasaslightacerbityinhertone.PoirotcouldwellimaginethatRowenaDrakewouldputthingsdownasquiteabsurd,firmlyanddefinitely.HecouldunderstandwellenoughfromremarkshehadheardfromSpence’ssister,fromhintsofwhatotherpeoplehadsaidandfromvariousothersources,thatRowenaDrakewasthatdominanttypeofpersonalitywhomeveryoneexpectstoruntheshow,andwhomnobodyhasmuchaffectionforwhilesheisdoingit.Hecouldimagine,too,thatherconscientiousnesshadnotbeenthekindtobeappreciatedbyanelderlyrelativewhowasherselfofthesametype.Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe,hegathered,hadcomeheretolivesoastobeneartohernephewandhiswife,andthatthewifehadreadilyundertakenthesupervisionandcareofherhusband’sauntasfarasshecoulddosowithoutactuallylivinginthehouse.Mrs.Llewellyn-SmythehadprobablyacknowledgedinherownmindthatsheowedagreatdealtoRowena,andhadatthesametimeresentedwhatshehadnodoubtthoughtofasherbossyways.
“Well,they’veallgonenow,”saidRowenaDrake,hearingthefinalshuttingofthehalldoor.“NowwhatcanIdoforyou?Somethingmoreaboutthatdreadfulparty?IwishI’dneverhadithere.Butnootherhousereallyseemedsuitable.IsMrs.OliverstillstayingwithJudithButler?”
“Yes.Sheis,Ibelieve,returningtoLondoninadayortwo.Youhadnotmetherbefore?”
“No.Iloveherbooks.”
“Sheis,Ibelieve,consideredaverygoodwriter,”saidPoirot.
“Ohwell,sheisagoodwriter.Nodoubtofthat.She’saveryamusingpersontoo.Hassheanyideasherself—Imeanaboutwhomighthavedonethisdreadfulthing?”
“Ithinknot.Andyou,Madame?”
“I’vetoldyoualready.I’venoideawhatever.”
“Youwouldperhapssayso,andyet—youmight,mightyounot,have,perhaps,whatamountstoaverygoodidea,butonlyanidea.Ahalf-formedidea.Apossibleidea.”
“Whyshouldyouthinkthat?”
Shelookedathimcuriously.
“Youmighthaveseensomething—somethingquitesmallandunimportantbutwhichonreflectionmightseemmoresignificanttoyou,perhaps,thanithaddoneatfirst.”
“Youmusthavesomethinginyourmind,MonsieurPoirot,somedefiniteincident.”
“Well,Iadmitit.Itisbecauseofwhatsomeonesaidtome.”
“Indeed!Andwhowasthat?”
“AMissWhittaker.Aschoolteacher.”
“Ohyes,ofcourse.ElizabethWhittaker.She’sthemathematicsmistress,isn’tshe,atTheElms?Shewasattheparty,Iremember.Didsheseesomething?”
“Itwasnotsomuchthatshesawsomethingasshehadtheideathatyoumighthaveseensomething.”
Mrs.Drakelookedsurprisedandshookherhead.
“Ican’tthinkofanythingIcanpossiblyhaveseen,”saidRowenaDrake,“butoneneverknows.”
“Ithadtodowithavase,”saidPoirot.“Avaseofflowers.”
“Avaseofflowers?”RowenaDrakelookedpuzzled.Thenherbrowcleared.“Oh,ofcourse,Iknow.Yes,therewasabigvaseofautumnleavesandchrysanthemumsonthetableintheangleofthestairs.Averyniceglassvase.Oneofmyweddingpresents.Theleavesseemedtobedroopingandsodidoneortwooftheflowers.IremembernoticingitasIpassedthroughthehall—itwasneartheendoftheparty,Ithink,bythen,butI’mnotsure—Iwonderedwhyitlookedlikethat,andIwentupanddippedmyfingersintoitandfoundthatsomeidiotmusthaveforgottentoputanywaterintoitafterarrangingit.Itmademeveryangry.SoItookitintothebathroomandfilleditup.ButwhatcouldIhaveseeninthatbathroom?Therewasnobodyinit.Iamquitesureofthat.Ithinkoneortwooftheoldergirlsandboyshaddonealittleharmless,whattheAmericanscall‘necking,’thereduringthecourseoftheparty,buttherewascertainlynobodywhenIwentintoitwiththevase.”
“No,no,Idonotmeanthat,”saidPoirot.“ButIunderstoodthattherewasanaccident.Thatthevaseslippedoutofyourhandanditfelltothehallbelowandwasshatteredtopieces.”
“Ohyes,”saidRowena.“Brokentosmithereens.IwasratherupsetaboutitbecauseasI’vesaid,ithadbeenoneofourweddingpresents,anditwasreallyaperfectflowervase,heavyenoughtoholdbigautumnbouquetsandthingslikethat.Itwasverystupidofme.Myfingersjustslipped.Itwentoutofmyhandandcrashedonthehallfloorbelow.ElizabethWhittakerwasstandingthere.Shehelpedmetopickupthepiecesandsweepsomeofthebrokenglassoutofthewayincasesomeonesteppedonit.WejustsweptitintoacornerbytheGrandfatherclocktobecleareduplater.”
ShelookedinquiringlyatPoirot.
“Isthattheincidentyoumean?”sheasked.
“Yes,”saidPoirot.“MissWhittakerwondered,Ithink,howyouhadcometodropthevase.Shethoughtthatsomethingperhapshadstartledyou.”
“Startledme?”RowenaDrakelookedathim,thenfrownedasshetriedtothinkagain.“No,Idon’tthinkIwasstartled,anyway.Itwasjustoneofthosewaysthingsdoslipoutofyourhands.Sometimeswhenyou’rewashingup.Ithink,really,it’saresultofbeingtired.Iwasprettytiredbythattime,whatwiththepreparationsforthepartyandrunningthepartyandalltherestofit.Itwentverywell,Imustsay.Ithinkitwas—oh,justoneofthoseclumsyactionsthatyoucan’thelpwhenyou’retired.”
“Therewasnothing—youaresure—thatstartledyou?Somethingunexpectedthatyousaw?”
“Saw?Where?Inthehallbelow?Ididn’tseeanythinginthehallbelow.ItwasemptyatthemomentbecauseeveryonewasinattheSnapdragonexcepting,ofcourse,forMissWhittaker.AndIdon’tthinkIevennoticedheruntilshecameforwardtohelpwhenIrandown.”
“Didyouseesomeone,perhaps,leavingthelibrarydoor?”
“Thelibrarydoor…Iseewhatyoumean.Yes,Icouldhaveseenthat.”Shepausedforquitealongtime,thenshelookedatPoirotwithaverystraight,firmglance.“Ididn’tseeanyoneleavethelibrary,”shesaid.“Nobodyatall….”
Hewondered.Thewayinwhichshesaiditwaswhatarousedthebeliefinhismindthatshewasnotspeakingthetruth,thatinsteadshehadseensomeoneorsomething,perhapsthedoorjustopeningalittle,amereglanceperhapsofafigureinside.Butshewasquitefirminherdenial.Why,hewondered,hadshebeensofirm?Becausethepersonshehadseenwasapersonshedidnotwanttobelieveforonemomenthadhadanythingtodowiththecrimecommittedontheothersideofthedoor?Someoneshecaredabout,orsomeone—whichseemedmorelikely,hethought—someonewhomshewishedtoprotect.Someone,perhaps,whohadnotlongpassedbeyondchildhood,someonewhomshemightfeelwasnottrulyconsciousoftheawfulthingtheyhadjustdone.
Hethoughtherahardcreaturebutapersonofintegrity.Hethoughtthatshewas,likemanywomenofthesametype,womenwhowereoftenmagistrates,orwhorancouncilsorcharities,orinterestedthemselvesinwhatusedtobecalled“goodworks.”Womenwhohadaninordinatebeliefinextenuatingcircumstances,whowereready,strangelyenough,tomakeexcusesfortheyoungcriminal.Anadolescentboy,amentallyretardedgirl.Someoneperhapswhohadalreadybeen—whatisthephrase—“incare.”Ifthathadbeenthetypeofpersonshehadseencomingoutofthelibrary,thenhethoughtitpossiblethatRowenaDrake’sprotectiveinstinctmighthavecomeintoplay.Itwasnotunknowninthepresentageforchildrentocommitcrimes,quiteyoungchildren.Childrenofseven,ofnineandsoon,anditwasoftendifficulttoknowhowtodisposeofthesenatural,itseemed,youngcriminalswhocamebeforethejuvenilecourts.Excuseshadtobebroughtforthem.Brokenhomes.Negligentandunsuitableparents.Butthepeoplewhospokethemostvehementlyforthem,thepeoplewhosoughttobringfortheveryexcuseforthem,wereusuallythetypeofRowenaDrake.Asternandcensoriouswoman,exceptinsuchcases.
Forhimself,Poirotdidnotagree.Hewasamanwhothoughtfirstalwaysofjustice.Hewassuspicious,hadalwaysbeensuspicious,ofmercy—toomuchmercy,thatistosay.Toomuchmercy,asheknewfromformerexperiencebothinBelgiumandthiscountry,oftenresultedinfurthercrimeswhichwerefataltoinnocentvictimswhoneednothavebeenvictimsifjusticehadbeenputfirstandmercysecond.
“Isee,”saidPoirot.“Isee.”
“Youdon’tthinkit’spossiblethatMissWhittakermighthaveseensomeonegointothelibrary?”suggestedMrs.Drake.
Poirotwasinterested.
“Ah,youthinkthatthatmighthavebeenso?”
“Itseemedtomemerelyapossibility.Shemighthavecaughtsightofsomeonegoinginthroughthelibrary,say,perhapsfiveminutesorsoearlier,andthen,whenIdroppedthevaseitmighthavesuggestedtoherthatIcouldhavecaughtaglimpseofthesameperson.ThatImighthaveseenwhoitwas.Perhapsshedoesn’tliketosayanythingthat
“Youthink,doyounot,Madame,thatitwas—shallwesay,achild—aboyorgirl,amerechild,orayoungadolescent?Youthinkitwasnotanydefiniteoneofthesebut,shallwesay,youthinkthatthatisthemostlikelytypetohavecommittedthecrimewearediscussing?”
Sheconsideredthepointthoughtfully,turningitoverinhermind.
“Yes,”shesaidatlast,“IsupposeIdo.Ihaven’tthoughtitout.Itseemstomethatcrimesaresooftenassociatednowadayswiththeyoung.Peoplewhodon’treallyknowquitewhattheyaredoing,whowantsillyrevenges,whohaveaninstinctfordestruction.Eventhepeoplewhowrecktelephoneboxes,orwhoslashthetyresofcars,doallsortsofthingsjusttohurtpeople,justbecausetheyhate—notanyoneinparticular,butthewholeworld.It’sasortofsymptomofthisage.SoIsupposewhenonecomesacrosssomethinglikeachilddrownedatapartyfornoreasonreally,onedoesassumethatit’ssomeonewhoisnotyetfullyresponsiblefortheiractions.Don’tyouagreewithmethat—that—well,thatthatiscertainlythemostlikelypossibilityhere?”
“Thepolice,Ithink,shareyourpointofview—ordidshareit.”
“Well,theyshouldknow.Wehaveaverygoodclassofpolicemaninthisdistrict.They’vedonewellinseveralcrimes.Theyarepainstakingandtheynevergiveup.Ithinkprobablytheywillsolvethismurder,thoughIdon’tthinkitwillhappenveryquickly.Thesethingsseemtotakealongtime.Alongtimeofpatientgatheringofevidence.”
“Theevidenceinthiscasewillnotbeveryeasytogather,Madame.”
“No,Isupposeitwon’t.Whenmyhusbandwaskilled—Hewasacripple,youknow.Hewascrossingtheroadandacarranoverhimandknockedhimdown.Theyneverfoundthepersonwhowasresponsible.Asyouknow,myhusband—orperhapsyoudon’tknow—myhusbandwasapoliovictim.Hewaspartiallyparalyzedasaresultofpolio,sixyearsago.Hisconditionhadimproved,buthewasstillcrippled,anditwouldbedifficultforhimtogetoutofthewayifacarboredownuponhimquickly.IalmostfeltthatIhadbeentoblame,thoughhealwaysinsistedongoingoutwithoutmeorwithoutanyonewithhim,becausehewouldhaveresentedverymuchbeinginthecareofanurse,orawifewhotookthepartofanurse,andhewasalwayscarefulbeforecrossingaroad.Still,onedoesblameoneselfwhenaccidentshappen.”
“Thatcameontopofthedeathofyouraunt?”
“No.Shediednotlongafterwards.Everythingseemstocomeatonce,doesn’tit?”
“Thatisverytrue,”saidHerculePoirot.Hewenton:“Thepolicewerenotabletotracethecarthatrandownyourhusband?”
“ItwasaGrasshopperMark7,Ibelieve.EverythirdcaryounoticeontheroadisaGrasshopperMark7—orwasthen.It’sthemostpopularcaronthemarket,theytellme.TheybelieveitwaspinchedfromtheMarketPlaceinMedchester.Acarparkthere.ItbelongedtoaMr.Waterhouse,anelderlyseedmerchantinMedchester.Mr.Waterhousewasaslowandcarefuldriver.Itwascertainlynothewhocausedtheaccident.Itwasclearlyoneofthosecaseswhereirresponsibleyoungmenhelpthemselvestocars.Suchcareless,orshouldIsaysuchcallousyoungmen,shouldbetreated,onesometimesfeels,moreseverelythantheyarenow.”
“Alonggaolsentence,perhaps.Merelytobefined,andthefinepaidbyindulgentrelatives,makeslittleimpression.”
“Onehastoremember,”saidRowenaDrake,“thatthereareyoungpeopleatanagewhenitisvitalthattheyshouldcontinuewiththeirstudiesiftheyaretohavethechanceofdoingwellinlife.”
“Thesacredcowofeducation,”saidHerculePoirot.“ThatisaphraseIhavehearduttered,”headdedquickly,“bypeople—well,shouldIsaypeoplewhooughttoknow.Peoplewhothemselvesholdacademicpostsofsomeseniority.”
“Theydonotperhapsmakeenoughallowancesforyouth,forabadbringingup.Brokenhomes.”
“Soyouthinktheyneedsomethingotherthangaolsentences?”
“Properremedialtreatment,”saidRowenaDrakefirmly.
“Andthatwillmake—(anotherold-fashionedproverb)—asilkpurseoutofasow’sear?Youdonotbelieveinthemaxim‘thefateofeverymanhaveweboundabouthisneck?’”
Mrs.Drakelookedextremelydoubtfulandslightlydispleased.
“AnIslamicsaying,Ibelieve,”saidPoirot.Mrs.Drakelookedunimpressed.
“Ihope,”shesaid,“wedonottakeourideas—orperhapsIshouldsayourideals—fromtheMiddleEast.”
“Onemustacceptfacts,”saidPoirot,“andafactthatisexpressedbymodernbiologists—Westernbiologists—”hehastenedtoadd,“—seemstosuggestverystronglythattherootofaperson’sactionsliesinhisgeneticmakeup.Thatamurdereroftwenty-fourwasamurdererinpotentialattwoorthreeorfouryearsold.Orofcourseamathematicianoramusicalgenius.”
“Wearenotdiscussingmurderers,”saidMrs.Drake.“Myhusbanddiedasaresultofanaccident.Anaccidentcausedbyacarelessandbadlyadjustedpersonality.Whoevertheboyoryoungmanwas,thereisalwaysthehopeofeventualadjustmenttoabeliefandacceptancethatitisadutytoconsiderothers,tobetaughttofeelanabhorrenceifyouhavetakenlifeunawares,simplyoutofwhatmaybedescribedascriminalcarelessnessthatwasnotreallycriminalinintent?”
“Youarequitesure,therefore,thatitwasnotcriminalinintent?”
“Ishoulddoubtitverymuch.”Mrs.Drakelookedslightlysurprised.“Idonotthinkthatthepoliceeverseriouslyconsideredthatpossibility.Icertainlydidnot.Itwasanaccident.Averytragicaccidentwhichalteredthepatternofmanylives,includingmyown.”
“Yousaywearenotdiscussingmurderers,”saidPoirot.“ButinthecaseofJoycethatisjustwhatwearediscussing.Therewasnoaccidentaboutthat.Deliberatehandspushedthatchild’sheaddownintowater,holdinghertheretilldeathoccurred.Deliberateintent.”
“Iknow.Iknow.It’sterrible.Idon’tliketothinkofit,toberemindedofit.”
Shegotup,movingaboutrestlessly.Poirotpushedonrelentlessly.
“Wearestillpresentedwithachoicethere.Westillhavetofindthemotiveinvolved.”
“Itseemstomethatsuchacrimemusthavebeenquitemotiveless.”
“Youmeancommittedbysomeonementallydisturbedtotheextentofenjoyingkillingsomeone?Presumablykillingsomeoneyoungandimmature.”
“Onedoeshearofsuchcases.Whatistheoriginalcauseofthemisdifficulttofindout.Evenpsychiatristsdonotagree.”
“Yourefusetoacceptasimplerexplanation?”
Shelookedpuzzled.“Simpler?”
“Someonenotmentallydisturbed,notapossiblecaseforpsychiatriststodisagreeover.Somebodyperhapswhojustwantedtobesafe.”
“Safe?Oh,youmean—”
“Thegirlhadboastedthatsameday,somehourspreviously,thatshehadseensomeonecommitamurder.”
“Joyce,”saidMrs.Drake,withcalmcertainty,“wasreallyaverysillylittlegirl.Not,Iamafraid,alwaysverytruthful.”
“Soeveryonehastoldme,”saidHerculePoirot.“Iambeginningtobelieve,youknow,thatwhateverybodyhastoldmemustberight,”headdedwithasigh.“Itusuallyis.”
Herosetohisfeet,adoptingadifferentmanner.
“Imustapologize,Madame.Ihavetalkedofpainfulthingstoyou,thingsthatdonottrulyconcernmehere.ButitseemedfromwhatMissWhittakertoldme—”
“Whydon’tyoufindoutmorefromher?”
“Youmean—?”
“Sheisateacher.Sheknows,muchbetterthanIcan,whatpotentialities(asyouhavecalledthem)existamongstthechildrensheteaches.”
Shepausedandthensaid:
“MissEmlyn,too.”
“Theheadmistress?”Poirotlookedsurprised.
“Yes.Sheknowsthings.Imean,sheisanaturalpsychologist.YousaidImighthaveideas—half-formedones—astowhokilledJoyce.Ihaven’t—butIthinkMissEmlynmight.”
“Thisisinteresting….”
“Idon’tmeanhasevidence.Imeanshejustknows.Shecouldtellyou—butIdon’tthinkshewill.”
“Ibegintosee,”saidPoirot,“thatIhavestillalongwaytogo.Peopleknowthings—buttheywillnottellthemtome.”HelookedthoughtfullyatRowenaDrake.
“Youraunt,Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe,hadanaupairgirlwholookedafterher,aforeigngirl.”
“Youseemtohavegotholdofallthelocalgossip.”Rowenaspokedryly.“Yes,thatisso.Shelefthererathersuddenlysoonaftermyaunt’sdeath.”
“Forgoodreasons,itwouldseem.”
“Idon’tknowwhetherit’slibelorslandertosayso—butthereseemsnodoubtthatsheforgedacodiciltomyaunt’sWill—orthatsomeonehelpedhertodoso.”
“Someone?”
“Shewasfriendlywithayoungmanwhoworkedinasolicitor’sofficeinMedchester.Hehadbeenmixedupinaforgerycasebefore.Thecasenevercametocourtbecausethegirldisappeared.SherealizedtheWillwouldnotbeadmittedtoprobate,andthattherewasgoingtobeacourtcase.Shelefttheneighbourhoodandhasneverbeenheardofsince.”
“Shetoocame,Ihaveheard,fromabrokenhome,”saidPoirot.
RowenaDrakelookedathimsharplybuthewassmilingamiably.
“Thankyouforallyouhavetoldme,Madame,”hesaid.
II
WhenPoirothadleftthehouse,hewentforashortwalkalongaturningoffthemainroadwhichwaslabelled“HelpslyCemeteryRoad.”Thecemeteryinquestiondidnottakehimlongtoreach.Itwasatmosttenminutes’walk.Itwasobviouslyacemeterythathadbeenmadeinthelasttenyears,presumablytocopewiththerisingimportanceofWoodleighasaresidentialentity.Thechurch,achurchofreasonablesizedatingfromsometwoorthreecenturiesback,hadhadaverysmallenclosurerounditalreadywellfilled.Sothenewcemeteryhadcomeintobeingwithafootpathconnectingitacrosstwofields.Itwas,Poirotthought,abusinesslike,moderncemeterywithappropriatesentimentsonmarbleorgraniteslabs;ithadurns,chippings,smallplantationsofbushesorflowers.Nointerestingoldepitaphsorinscriptions.Nothingmuchforanantiquarian.Cleaned,neat,tidyandwithsuitablesentimentsexpressed.
Hecametoahalttoreadatableterectedonagravecontemporarywithseveralothersnearit,alldatingwithintwoorthreeyearsback.Itboreasimpleinscription,“SacredtotheMemoryofHugoEdmundDrake,belovedhusbandofRowenaArabellaDrake,whodepartedthislifeMarchthe20th19—”
Hegivethhisbelovedsleep
ItoccurredtoPoirot,freshfromtheimpactofthedynamicRowenaDrake,thatperhapssleepmighthavecomeinwelcomeguisetothelateMr.Drake.
Analabasterurnhadbeenfixedinpositionthereandcontainedtheremainsofflowers.Anelderlygardener,obviouslyemployedtotendthegravesofgoodcitizensdepartedthislife,approachedPoirotinthepleasurablehopesofafewminutes’conversationwhilehelaidhishoeandhisbroomaside.
“Strangerintheseparts,Ithink,”hesaid,“aren’tyou,sir?”
“Itisverytrue,”saidPoirot.“Iamastrangerwithyouasweremyfathersbeforeme.”
“Ah,aye.We’vegotthattextsomewhereorsummatverylikeit.Overdowntheothercorner,itis.”Hewenton,“Hewasanicegentleman,hewere,Mr.Drake.Acripple,youknow.Hehadthatinfantparalysis,astheycallit,thoughasoftenasnotitisn’tinfantsassufferfromit.It’sgrown-ups.Menandwomentoo.Mywife,shehadanaunt,whocaughtitinSpain,shedid.Wenttherewithatour,shedid,andbathedsomewhereinsomeriver.Andtheysaidafterwardsasitwasthewaterinfection,butIdon’tthinktheyknowmuch.Doctorsdon’t,ifyouaskme.Still,it’smadealotofdifferencenowadays.Allthisinoculationtheygivethechildren,andthat.Notnearlyasmanycasesastherewere.Yes,hewereanicegentlemananddidn’tcomplain,thoughhetookithard,beingacripple,Imean.He’dbeenagoodsportsman,hehad,inhistime.Usedtobatforushereinthevillageteam.Manyasixhe’shittotheboundary.Yes,hewereanicegentleman.”
“Hediedofanaccident,didhenot?”
“That’sright.Crossingtheroad,towardstwilightthiswas.Oneofthesecarscomealong,acoupleoftheseyoungthugsinitwithbeardsgrowinguptotheirears.That’swhattheysay.Didn’tstopeither.Wenton.Neverlookedtosee.Abandonedthecarsomewhereinacarparktwentymilesaway.Wasn’ttheirowncareither.Pinchedfromacarparksomewhere.Ah,it’sterrible,alotofthoseaccidentsnowadays.Andthepoliceoftencan’tdoanythingaboutthem.Verydevotedtohim,hiswifewas.Tookitveryhard,shedid.Shecomeshere,nearlyeveryweek,bringsflowersandputsthemhere.Yes,theywereaverydevotedcouple.Ifyouaskme,shewon’tstayheremuchlonger.”
“Really?Butshehasaverynicehousehere.”
“Yes,ohyes.Andshedoesalotinthevillage,youknow.Allthesethings—women’sinstitutesandteasandvarioussocietiesandalltherestofit.Runsalotofthings,shedoes.Runsabittoomanyforsomepeople.Bossy,youknow.Bossyandinterfering,somepeoplesay.Butthevicarreliesonher.Shestartsthings.Women’sactivitiesandalltherestofit.Getsuptoursandoutings.Ahyes.Oftenthoughtmyself,thoughIwouldn’tliketosayittomywife,thatallthesegoodworksasladiesdoes,doesn’tmakeyouanyfonderoftheladiesthemselves.Alwaysknowbest,theydo.Alwaystellingyouwhatyoushoulddoandwhatyoushouldn’tdo.Nofreedom.Notmuchfreedomanywherenowadays.”
“YetyouthinkMrs.Drakemayleavehere?”
“Ishouldn’twonderifshedidn’tgoawayandlivesomewhereabroad.Theylikedbeingabroad,usedtogothereforholidays.”
“Whydoyouthinkshewantstoleavehere?”
Asuddenratherroguishsmileappearedontheoldman’sface.
“Well,I’dsay,youknow,thatshe’sdoneallshecandohere.Toputitscriptural,sheneedsanothervineyardtoworkin.Sheneedsmoregoodworks.Aren’tnomoregoodworkstobedoneroundhere.She’sdoneallthereis,andevenmorethanthereneedbe,sosomethink.Yes.”
“Sheneedsanewfieldinwhichtolabour?”suggestedPoirot.
“You’vehitit.Bettersettlesomewhereelsewhereshecanputalotofthingsrightandbullyalotofotherpeople.She’dgotuswhereshewantsushereandthere’snotmuchmoreforhertodo.”
“Itmaybe,”saidPoirot.
“Hasn’tevengotherhusbandtolookafter.Shelookedafterhimagoodfewyears.Thatgaveherakindofobjectinlife,asyoumightsay.Whatwiththatandalotofoutsideactivities,shecouldbebusyallthetime.She’sthetypelikesbeingbusyallthetime.Andshe’snochildren,more’sthepity.Soit’smyviewasshe’llstartalloveragainsomewhereelse.”
“Youmayhavesomethingthere.Wherewouldshego?”
“Icouldn’tsayastothat.OneoftheseRivieryplaces,maybe—orthere’sthemasgoestoSpainorPortugal.OrGreece—I’veheardherspeakofGreece—Islands.Mrs.Butler,she’sbeentoGreeceononeofthemtours.Hellenic,theycallthem,whichsoundsmorelikefireandbrimstonetome.”
Poirotsmiled.
“TheislesofGreece,”hemurmured.Thenheasked:“Doyoulikeher?”
“Mrs.Drake?Iwouldn’tsayIexactlylikeher.She’sagoodwoman.Doesherdutytoherneighbourandallthat—butshe’llalwaysneedapowerofneighbourstodoherdutyto—andifyouaskme,nobodyreallylikespeoplewhoarealwaysdoingtheirduty.TellsmehowtoprunemyroseswhichIknowwellenoughmyself.Alwaysatmetogrowsomenewfangledkindofvegetable.Cabbageisgoodenoughforme,andI’mstickingtocabbage.”
Poirotsmiled.Hesaid,“Imustbeonmyway.CanyoutellmewhereNicholasRansomandDesmondHollandlive?”
“Pastthechurch,thirdhouseontheleft.TheyboardwithMrs.Brand,gointoMedchesterTechnicaleverydaytostudy.They’llbehomebynow.”
HegavePoirotaninterestedglance.
“Sothat’sthewayyourmindisworking,isit?There’ssomealreadyasthinksthesame.”
“No,Ithinknothingasyet.Buttheywereamongthosepresent—thatisall.”
Ashetookleaveandwalkedaway,hemused,“Amongthosepresent—Ihavecomenearlytotheendofmylist.”
Fifteen
TwopairsofeyeslookedatPoirotuneasily.
“Idon’tseewhatelsewecantellyou.We’vebothbeeninterviewedbythepolice,M.Poirot.”
Poirotlookedfromoneboytotheother.Theywouldnothavedescribedthemselvesasboys;theirmannerwascarefullyadult.Somuchsothatifoneshutone’seyes,theirconversationcouldhavepassedasthatofelderlyclubmen.Nicholaswaseighteen.Desmondwassixteen
“Toobligeafriend,Imakemyinquiriesofthosepresentonacertainoccasion.NottheHallowe’enpartyitself—thepreparationsforthatparty.Youwerebothactiveinthese.”
“Yes,wewere.”
“Sofar,”Poirotsaid,“Ihaveinterviewedcleaningwomen,Ihavehadthebenefitofpoliceviews,oftalkstoadoctor—thedoctorwhoexaminedthebodyfirst—havetalkedtoaschoolteacherwhowaspresent,totheheadmistressoftheschool,todistraughtrelatives,haveheardmuchofthevillagegossip—Bytheway,Iunderstandyouhavealocalwitchhere?”
Thetwoyoungmenconfrontinghimbothlaughed.
“YoumeanMotherGoodbody.Yes,shecametothepartyandplayedthepartofthewitch.”
“Ihavecomenow,”saidPoirot,“totheyoungergeneration,tothoseofacuteeyesightandacutehearingandwhohaveup-to-datescientificknowledgeandshrewdphilosophy.Iameager—veryeager—tohearyourviewsonthismatter.”
Eighteenandsixteen,hethoughttohimself,lookingatthetwoboysconfrontinghim.Youthstothepolice,boystohim,adolescentstonewspaperreporters.Callthemwhatyouwill.Productsoftoday.Neitherofthem,hejudged,atallstupid,eveniftheywerenotquiteofthehighmentalitythathehadjustsuggestedtothembywayofaflatteringsoptostarttheconversation.Theyhadbeenattheparty.TheyhadalsobeenthereearlierinthedaytodohelpfulofficesforMrs.Drake.
Theyhadclimbedupstepladders,theyhadplacedyellowpumpkinsinstrategicpositions,theyhaddonealittleelectricalworkonfairylights,oneorotherofthemhadproducedsomeclevereffectsinanicebatchofphoneyphotographsofpossiblehusbandsasimaginedhopefullybyteenagegirls.Theywerealso,incidentally,oftherightagetobeintheforefrontofsuspectsinthemindofInspectorRaglanand,itseemed,intheviewofanelderlygardener.Thepercentageofmurderscommittedbythisgrouphadbeenincreasinginthelastfewyears.NotthatPoirotinclinedtothatparticularsuspicionhimself,butanythingwaspossible.Itwasevenpossiblethatthekillingwhichhadoccurredtwoorthreeyearsagomighthavebeencommittedbyaboy,youth,oradolescentoffourteenortwelveyearsofage.Suchcaseshadoccurredinrecentnewspaperreports.
Keepingallthesepossibilitiesinmindhepushedthem,asitwere,behindacurtainforthemoment,andconcentratedinsteadonhisownappraisementofthesetwo,theirlooks,theirclothes,theirmanner,theirvoicesandsoonandsoforth,intheHerculePoirotmanner,maskedbehindaforeignshieldofflatteringwordsandmuchincreasedforeignmannerisms,sothattheythemselvesshouldfeelagreeablycontemptuousofhim,thoughhidingthatunderpolitenessandgoodmanners.Forbothofthemhadexcellentmanners.Nicholas,theeighteen-year-old,wasgood-looking,wearingsideburns,hairthatgrewfairlyfardownhisneck,andaratherfunerealoutfitofblack.Notasamourningfortherecenttragedy,butwhatwasobviouslyhispersonaltasteinmodernclothes.Theyoungeronewaswearingarose-colouredvelvetcoat,mauvetrousersandakindoffrilledshirting.Theybothobviouslyspentagooddealofmoneyontheirclotheswhichwerecertainlynotpurchasedlocallyandwereprobablypaidforbythemselvesandnotbytheirparentsorguardians.
Desmond’shairwasginger-colouredandtherewasagooddealoffluffyprofusionaboutit.
“Youwerethereinthemorningorafternoonoftheparty,Iunderstand,helpingwiththepreparationsforit?”
“Earlyafternoon,”correctedNicholas
“Whatsortofpreparationswereyouhelpingwith?Ihaveheardofpreparationfromseveralpeople,butIamnotquiteclear.Theydon’tallagree.”
“Agooddealofthelighting,foronething.”
“Gettinguponstepsforthingsthathadtobeputhighup.”
“Iunderstandthereweresomeverygoodphotographicresultstoo.”
Desmondimmediatelydippedintohispocketandtookoutafolderfromwhichheproudlybroughtcertaincards.
“Wefakedupthesebeforehand,”hesaid.“Husbandsforthegirls,”heexplained.“They’reallalike,birdsare.Theyallwantsomethingup-to-date.Notabadassortment,arethey?”
HehandedafewspecimenstoPoirotwholookedwithinterestataratherfuzzyreproductionofaginger-beardedyoungmanandanotheryoungmanwithanaureoleofhair,athirdonewhosehaircametohiskneesalmost,andtherewereafewassortedwhiskers,andotherfacialadornments.
“Made’emprettywellalldifferent.Itwasn’tbad,wasit?”
“Youhadmodels,Isuppose?”
“Oh,they’reallourselves.Justmakeup,youknow.NickandIgot’emdone.SomeNicktookofmeandsomeItookofhim.Justvariedwhatyoumightcallthehairmotif.”
“Veryclever,”saidPoirot.
“Wekept’emabitoutoffocus,youknow,sothatthey’dlookmorelikespiritpictures,asyoumightsay.”
Theotherboysaid,
“Mrs.Drakewasverypleasedwiththem.Shecongratulatedus.Theymadeherlaughtoo.Itwasmostlyelectricalworkwedidatthehouse.Youknow,fittingupalightortwosothatwhenthegirlssatwiththemirroroneorotherofuscouldtakeupaposition,you’donlytobobupoverascreenandthegirlwouldseeafaceinthemirrorwith,mindyou,therightkindofhair.Beardorwhiskersorsomethingorother.”
“Didtheyknowitwasyouandyourfriend?”
“Oh,Idon’tthinksoforamoment.Notattheparty,theydidn’t.Theyknewwehadbeenhelpingatthehousewithsomethings,butIdon’tthinktheyrecognizedusinthemirrors.Weren’tsmartenough,Ishouldsay.Besides,we’dgotsortofaninstantmakeuptochangetheimage.Firstme,thenNicholas.Thegirlssqueakedandshrieked.Damnedfunny.”
“Andthepeoplewhowerethereintheafternoon?Idonotaskyoutorememberwhowasattheparty.”
“Attheparty,theremusthavebeenaboutthirty,Isuppose,knockingabout.IntheafternoontherewasMrs.Drake,ofcourse,andMrs.Butler.Oneoftheschoolteachers,WhittakerIthinkhernameis.Mrs.Flatterbutorsomenamelikethat.She’stheorganist’ssisterorwife.Dr.Ferguson’sdispenser,MissLee;it’sherafternoonoffandshecamealongandhelpedtooandsomeofthekidscametomakethemselvesusefuliftheycould.NotthatIthinktheywereveryuseful.Thegirlsjusthungaboutandgiggled.”
“Ahyes.Doyourememberwhatgirlstherewerethere?”
“Well,theReynoldswerethere.PooroldJoyce,ofcourse.TheonewhogotdoneinandhereldersisterAnn.Frightfulgirl.Putsnoendofsideon.Thinksshe’sterriblyclever.Quitesureshe’sgoingtopassallher‘A’levels.Andthesmallkid,Leopold,he’sawful,”saidDesmond.“He’sasneak.Heeavesdrops.Tellstales.Realnastybitofgoods.AndtherewasBeatriceArdleyandCathieGrant,whoisdimastheymakeandacoupleofusefulwomen,ofcourse.Cleaningwomen,Imean.Andtheauthoresswoman—theonewhobroughtyoudownhere.”
“Anymen?”
“Oh,thevicarlookedinifyoucounthim.Niceoldboy,ratherdim.Andthenewcurate.Hestammerswhenhe’snervous.Hasn’tbeenherelong.That’sallIcanthinkofnow.”
“AndthenIunderstandyouheardthisgirl—JoyceReynolds—sayingsomethingabouthavingseenamurdercommitted.”
“Ineverheardthat,”saidDesmond.“Didshe?”
“Oh,they’resayingso,”saidNicholas.“Ididn’thearher,IsupposeIwasn’tintheroomwhenshesaidit.Wherewasshe—whenshesaidthat,Imean?”
“Inthedrawingroom.”
“Yes,well,mostofthepeoplewereinthereunlesstheyweredoingsomethingspecial.OfcourseNickandI,”saidDesmond,“weremostlyintheroomwherethegirlsweregoingtolookfortheirtruelovesinmirrors.Fixingupwiresandvariousthingslikethat.Orelsewewereoutonthestairsfixingfairylights.Wewereinthedrawingroomonceortwiceputtingthepumpkinsupandhanginguponeortwothathadbeenhollowedouttoholdlightsinthem.ButIdidn’thearanythingofthatkindwhenwewerethere.Whataboutyou,Nick?”
“Ididn’t,”saidNick.Headdedwithsomeinterest,“DidJoycereallysaythatshe’dseenamurdercommitted?Jollyinteresting,youknow,ifshedid,isn’tit?”
“Whyisitsointeresting?”askedDesmond.
“Well,it’sE.S.P.,isn’tit?Imeanthereyouare.Shesawamurdercommittedandwithinanhourortwosheherselfwasmurdered.Isupposeshehadasortofvisionofit.Makesyouthinkabit.Youknowtheselastexperimentsthey’vebeenhavingseemsasthoughthereissomethingyoucandotohelpitbygettinganelectrode,orsomethingofthatkind,fixeduptoyourjugularvein.I’vereadaboutitsomewhere.”
“They’venevergotveryfarwiththisE.S.P.stuff,”saidDesmond,scornfully.“Peoplesitindifferentroomslookingatcardsinapackorwordswithsquaresandgeometricalfiguresonthem.Buttheyneverseetherightthings,orhardlyever.”
“Well,you’vegottobeprettyyoungtodoit.Adolescentsaremuchbetterthanolderpeople.”
HerculePoirot,whohadnowishtolistentothishigh-levelscientificdiscussion,brokein.
“Asfarasyoucanremember,nothingoccurredduringyourpresenceinthehousewhichseemedtoyousinisterorsignificantinanyway.Somethingwhichprobablynobodyelsewouldhavenoticed,butwhichmighthavecometoyourattention.”
NicholasandDesmondfrownedhard,obviouslyrackingtheirbrainstoproducesomeincidentofimportance.
“No,itwasjustalotofclackingandarranginganddoingthings.”
“Haveyouanytheoriesyourself?”
PoirotaddressedhimselftoNicholas.
“What,theoriesastowhodidJoycein?”
“Yes.Imeansomethingthatyoumighthavenoticedthatcouldleadyoutoasuspiciononperhapspurelypsychologicalgrounds.”
“Yes,Icanseewhatyoumean.Theremightbesomethinginthat.”
“Whittakerformymoney,”saidDesmond,breakingintoNicholas’sabsorptioninthought.
“Theschoolmistress?”askedPoirot.
“Yes.Realoldspinster,youknow.Sex-starved.Andallthatteaching,bottledupamongalotofwomen.Youremember,oneoftheteachersgotstrangledayearortwoago.Shewasabitqueer,theysay.”
“Lesbian?”askedNicholas,inamanoftheworldvoice.
“Ishouldn’twonder.D’yourememberNoraAmbrose,thegirlshelivedwith?Shewasn’tabadlooker.Shehadaboyfriendortwo,sotheysaid,andthegirlshelivedwithgotmadwithheraboutit.Someonesaidshewasanunmarriedmother.Shewasawayfortwotermswithsomeillnessandthencameback.They’dsayanythinginthisnestofgossip.”
“Well,anyway,Whittakerwasinthedrawingroommostofthemorning.SheprobablyheardwhatJoycesaid.Mighthaveputitintoherhead,mightn’tit?”
“Lookhere,”saidNicholas,“supposingWhittaker—whatageisshe,doyouthink?Fortyodd?Gettingonforfifty—Womendogoabitqueeratthatage.”
TheybothlookedatPoirotwiththeairofcontenteddogswhohaveretrievedsomethingusefulwhichmasterhasaskedfor.
“IbetMissEmlynknowsifitisso.There’snotmuchshedoesn’tknow,aboutwhatgoesoninherschool.”
“Wouldn’tshesay?”
“Perhapsshefeelsshehastobeloyalandshieldher.”
“Oh,Idon’tthinkshe’ddothat.IfshethoughtElizabethWhittakerwasgoingoffherhead,wellthen,Imean,alotofthepupilsattheschoolmightgetdonein.”
“Whataboutthecurate?”saidDesmondhopefully.“Hemightbeabitoffhisnut.Youknow,originalsinperhaps,andallthat,andthewaterandtheapplesandthethingsandthen—lookhere,I’vegotagoodideanow.Supposeheisabitbarmy.Notbeenhereverylong.Nobodyknowsmuchabouthim.Supposingit’stheSnapdragonputitintohishead.Hellfire!Allthoseflamesgoingup!Then,yousee,hetookholdofJoyceandhesaid‘comealongwithmeandI’llshowyousomething,’andhetookhertotheappleroomandhesaid‘kneeldown.’Hesaid‘Thisisbaptism,’andpushedherheadin.See?Itwouldallfit.AdamandEveandtheappleandhellfireandtheSnapdragonandbeingbaptisedagaintocureyouofsin.”
“Perhapsheexposedhimselftoherfirst,”saidNicholashopefully.“Imean,there’salwaysgottobeasexbackgroundtoallthesethings.”
TheybothlookedwithsatisfiedfacestoPoirot.
“Well,”saidPoirot,“you’vecertainlygivenmesomethingtothinkabout.”
Sixteen
HerculePoirotlookedwithinterestatMrs.Goodbody’sface.Itwasindeedperfectasamodelforawitch.Thefactthatitalmostundoubtedlywentwithextremeamiabilityofcharacterdidnotdispeltheillusion.Shetalkedwithrelishandpleasure.
“Yes,Iwasupthererightenough,Iwas.Ialwaysdoesthewitchesroundhere.VicarhecomplimentedmelastyearandhesaidasI’ddonesuchagoodjobinthepageantashe’dgivemeanewsteeplehat.Awitch’shatwearsoutjustlikeanythingelsedoes.Yes,Iwasrightuptherethatday.Idoestherhymes,youknow.Imeantherhymesforthegirls,usingtheirownChristianname.OneforBeatrice,oneforAnnandalltherestofit.AndIgivesthemtowhoeverisdoingthespiritvoiceandtheyreciteitouttothegirlinthemirror,andtheboys,MasterNicholasandyoungDesmond,theysendthephoneyphotographsfloatingdown.Makemedieoflaughing,someofitdoes.Seethoseboysstickinghairallovertheirfacesandphotographingeachother.Andwhattheydressupin!IsawMasterDesmondtheotherday,andwhathewaswearingyou’dhardlybelieve.Rose-colouredcoatandfawnbreeches.Beatthegirlshollow,theydo.Allthegirlscanthinkofistopushtheirskirtshigherandhigher,andthat’snotmuchgoodtothembecausethey’vegottoputonmoreunderneath.Imeanwhatwiththethingstheycallbodystockingsandtights,whichusedtobeforchorusgirlsinmydayandnoneother—theyspendalltheirmoneyonthat.Buttheboys—myword,theylooklikekingfishersandpeacocksorbirdsofparadise.Well,IliketoseeabitofcolourandIalwaysthinkitmusthavebeenfuninthoseoldhistoricaldaysasyouseeonthepictures.Youknow,everybodywithlaceandcurlsandcavalierhatsandalltherestofit.Gavethegirlssomethingtolookat,theydid.Anddoubletandhose.Allthegirlscouldthinkofinhistoricaltimes,asfarasIcansee,wastoputgreatballoonskirtson,crinolinestheycalledthemlater,andgreatrufflesaroundtheirnecks!Mygrandmother,sheusedtotellmethatheryoungladies—shewasinservice,youknow,inagoodVictorianfamily—andheryoungladies(beforethetimeofVictoriaIthinkitwas)—itwasthetimetheKingwhathadaheadlikeapearwasonthethrone—SillyBilly,wasn’tit,WilliamIVth—wellthen,heryoungladies,Imeanmygrandmother’syoungladies,theyusedtohavemuslingownsverylongdowntotheirankles,veryprimbuttheyusedtodamptheirmuslinswithwatersotheystucktothem.Youknow,stucktothemsoitshowedeverythingtherewastoshow.Wentaboutlookingeversomodest,butittickledupthegentlemen,allright,itdid.
“IlentMrs.Drakemywitchballfortheparty.Boughtthatwitchballatajumblesalesomewhere.Thereitishanginguptherenowbythechimney,yousee?Nicebrightdarkblue.Ikeepitovermydoor.”
“Doyoutellfortunes?”
“Mustn’tsayIdo,mustI?”shechuckled.“Thepolicedon’tlikethat.NotthattheymindthekindoffortunesItell.Nothingtoit,asyoumightsay.Placelikethisyoualwaysknowwho’sgoingwithwho,andsothatmakesiteasy.”
“Canyoulookinyourwitchball,lookinthere,seewhokilledthatlittlegirl,Joyce?”
“Yougotmixedup,youhave,”saidMrs.Goodbody.“It’sacrystalballyoulookintoseethings,notawitchball.IfItoldyouwhoIthoughtitwasdidit,youwouldn’tlikeit.Sayitwasagainstnature,youwould.Butlotsofthingsgoonthatareagainstnature.”
“Youmayhavesomethingthere.”
“Thisisagoodplacetolive,onthewhole.Imean,peoplearedecent,mostofthem,butwhereveryougo,thedevil’salwaysgotsomeofhisown.Bornandbredtoit.”
“Youmean—blackmagic?”
“No,Idon’tmeanthat.”Mrs.Goodbodywasscornful.“That’snonsense,thatis.That’sforpeoplewholiketodressupanddoalotoftomfoolery.Sexandallthat.No,Imeanthosethatthedevilhastouchedwithhishand.They’rebornthatway.ThesonsofLucifer.They’rebornsothatkillingdon’tmeannothingtothem,notiftheyprofitbyit.Whentheywantathing,theywantit.Andthey’reruthlesstogetit.Beautifulasangels,theycanlooklike.Knewalittlegirlonce.Sevenyearsold.Killedherlittlebrotherandsister.Twinstheywere.Fiveorsixmonthsold,nomore.Stifledthemintheirprams.”
“ThattookplacehereinWoodleighCommon?”
“No,no,itwasn’tinWoodleighCommon.IcameacrossthatupinYorkshire,farasIremember.Nastycase.Beautifullittlecreatureshewas,too.Youcouldhavefastenedapairofwingsonher,lethergoonaplatformandsingChristmashymns,andshe’dhavelookedrightforthepart.Butshewasn’t.Shewasrotteninside.You’llknowwhatImean.You’renotayoungman.Youknowwhatwickednessthereisaboutintheworld.”
“Alas!”saidPoirot.“Youareright.Idoknowonlytoowell.IfJoycereallysawamurdercommitted—”
“Whosaysshedid?”saidMrs.Goodbody.
“Shesaidsoherself.”
“That’snoreasonforbelieving.She’salwaysbeenalittleliar.”Shegavehimasharpglance.“Youwon’tbelievethat,Isuppose?”
“Yes,”saidPoirot,“Idobelieveit.Toomanypeoplehavetoldmeso,formetocontinuedisbelievingit.”
“Oddthingscropupinfamilies,”saidMrs.Goodbody.“YoutaketheReynolds,forexample.There’sMr.Reynolds.Intheestatebusinessheis.Nevercutmuchiceatitandneverwill.Nevergotonmuch,asyou’dsay.AndMrs.Reynolds,alwaysgettingworriedandupsetaboutthings.Noneoftheirthreechildrentakeaftertheirparents.There’sAnn,now,she’sgotbrains.She’sgoingtodowellwithherschooling,sheis.She’llgotocollege,Ishouldn’twonder,maybegetherselftrainedasateacher.Mindyou,she’spleasedwithherself.She’ssopleasedwithherselfthatnobodycanstickher.Noneoftheboyslookathertwice.AndthentherewasJoyce.Shewasn’tcleverlikeAnn,norascleverasherlittlebrotherLeopold,either,butshewantedtobe.Shewantedalwaystoknowmorethanotherpeopleandtohavedonebetterthanotherpeopleandshe’dsayanythingtomakepeoplesitupandtakenotice.Butdon’tyoubelieveanysinglewordsheeversaidwastrue.Becauseninetimesoutoftenitwasn’t.”
“Andtheboy?”
“Leopold?Well,he’sonlynineorten,Ithink,buthe’scleverallright.Cleverwithhisfingersandotherways,too.Hewantstostudythingslikephysics.He’sgoodatmathematics,too.Quitesurprisedaboutittheywere,inschool.Yes,he’sclever.He’llbeoneofthesescientists,Iexpect.Ifyouaskme,thethingshedoeswhenhe’sascientistandthethingshe’llthinkof—they’llbenasty,likeatombombs!He’soneofthekindthatstudiesandareeversocleverandthinkupsomethingthat’lldestroyhalftheglobe,andalluspoorfolkwithit.YoubewareofLeopold.Heplaystricksonpeople,youknow,andeavesdrops.Findsoutalltheirsecrets.WherehegetsallhispocketmoneyfromI’dliketoknow.Itisn’tfromhismotherorhisfather.Theycan’taffordtogivehimmuch.He’sgotlotsofmoneyalways.Keepsitinadrawerunderhissocks.Hebuysthings.Quitealotofexpensivegadgets.Wheredoeshegetthemoneyfrom?That’swhatI’dliketoknow.Findspeople’ssecretsout,I’dsay,andmakesthempayhimforholdinghistongue.”
Shepausedforbreath.
“Well,Ican’thelpyou,I’mafraid,inanyway.”
“Youhavehelpedmeagreatdeal,”saidPoirot.“Whathappenedtotheforeigngirlwhoissaidtohaverunaway?”
“Didn’tgofar,inmyopinion.‘Dingdongdell,pussy’sinthewell.’That’swhatI’vealwaysthought,anyway.”
Seventeen
“Excuseme,Ma’am,IwonderifImightspeaktoyouaminute.”
Mrs.Oliver,whowasstandingontheverandahofherfriend’shouselookingouttoseeiftherewereanysignsofHerculePoirotapproaching—hehadnotifiedherbytelephonethathewouldbecomingroundtoseeheraboutnow—lookedround.
Aneatlyattiredwomanofmiddleagewasstanding,twistingherhandsnervouslyintheirneatcottongloves.
“Yes?”saidMrs.Oliver,addinganinterrogationpointbyherintonation.
“I’msorrytotroubleyou,I’msure,Madam,butIthought—well,Ithought….”
Mrs.Oliverlistenedbutdidnotattempttoprompther.Shewonderedwhatwasworryingthewomansomuch.
“Itakeitrightlyasyou’retheladywhowritesstories,don’tI?Storiesaboutcrimesandmurdersandthingsofthatkind.”
“Yes,”saidMrs.Oliver,“I’mtheone.”
Hercuriositywasnowaroused.Wasthisaprefaceforademandforanautographorevenasignedphotograph?Oneneverknew.Themostunlikelythingshappened.
“Ithoughtasyou’dbetherightonetotellme,”saidthewoman.
“You’dbettersitdown,”saidMrs.Oliver.
SheforesawthatMrs.Whoever-it-was—shewaswearingaweddingringsoshewasaMrs.—wasthetypewhotakessometimeingettingtothepoint.Thewomansatdownandwentontwistingherhandsintheirgloves.
“Somethingyou’reworriedabout?”saidMrs.Oliver,doingherbesttostarttheflow.
“Well,I’dlikeadvice,andit’strue.It’saboutsomethingthathappenedagoodwhileagoandIwasn’treallyworriedatthetime.Butyouknowhowitis.Youthinkthingsoverandyouwishyouknewsomeoneyoucouldgoandaskaboutit.”
“Isee,”saidMrs.Oliver,hopingtoinspireconfidencebythisentirelymeretriciousstatement.
“Seeingthethingswhathavehappenedlately,youneverdoknow,doyou?”
“Youmean—?”
“ImeanwhathappenedattheHallowe’enparty,orwhatevertheycalledit.Imeanitshowsyouthere’speoplewhoaren’tdependablehere,doesn’tit?Anditshowsyouthingsbeforethatweren’tasyouthoughttheywere.Imean,theymightn’thavebeenwhatyouthoughttheywere,ifyouunderstandwhatImean.”
“Yes?”saidMrs.Oliver,addinganevengreatertingeofinterrogationtothemonosyllable.“Idon’tthinkIknowyourname,”sheadded.
“Leaman.Mrs.Leaman.Igooutanddocleaningtoobligeladieshere.Eversincemyhusbanddied,andthatwasfiveyearsago.IusedtoworkforMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe,theladywholivedupattheQuarryHouse,beforeColonelandMrs.Westoncame.Idon’tknowifyoueverknewher.”
“No,”saidMrs.Oliver,“Ineverknewher.ThisisthefirsttimeIhavebeendowntoWoodleighCommon.”
“Isee.Well,youwouldn’tknowmuchaboutwhatwasgoingonperhapsatthattime,andwhatwassaidatthattime.”
“I’veheardacertainamountaboutitsinceI’vebeendownherethistime,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Yousee,Idon’tknowanythingaboutthelaw,andI’mworriedalwayswhenit’saquestionoflaw.Lawyers,Imean.TheymighttangleitupandIwouldn’tliketogotothepolice.Itwouldn’tbeanythingtodowiththepolice,beingalegalmatter,wouldit?”
“Perhapsnot,”saidMrs.Oliver,cautiously.
“Youknowperhapswhattheysaidatthetimeaboutthecodi—Idon’tknow,somewordlikecodi.LikethefishImean.”
“AcodiciltotheWill?”suggestedMrs.Oliver.
“Yes,that’sright.That’swhatI’mmeaning.Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe,yousee,madeoneofthesecod—codicilsandsheleftallhermoneytotheforeigngirlwhatlookedafterher.Anditwasasurprise,that,becauseshe’dgotrelationslivinghere,andshe’dcomehereanywaytolivenearthem.Shewasverydevotedtothem,Mr.Drake,inparticular.Anditstruckpeopleasprettyqueer,really.Andthenthelawyers,yousee,theybegansayingthings.TheysaidasMrs.Llewellyn-Smythehadn’twrittenthecodicilatall.Thattheforeignpairgirlhaddoneit,seeingasshegotallthemoneylefttoher.Andtheysaidastheyweregoingtolawaboutit.ThatMrs.DrakewasgoingtocountersettheWill—ifthatistherightword.”
“ThelawyersweregoingtocontesttheWill.Yes,IbelieveIdidhearsomethingaboutthat,”saidMrs.Oliverencouragingly.“Andyouknowsomethingaboutit,perhaps?”
“Ididn’tmeannoharm,”saidMrs.Leaman.Aslightwhinecameintohervoice,awhinewithwhichMrs.Oliverhadbeenacquaintedseveraltimesinthepast.
Mrs.Leaman,shethought,waspresumablyanunreliablewomaninsomeways,asnooperperhaps,alisteneratdoors.
“Ididn’tsaynothingatthetime,”saidMrs.Leaman,“becauseyouseeIdidn’trightlyknow.ButyouseeIthoughtitwasqueerandI’lladmittoaladylikeyou,whoknowswhatthesethingsare,thatIdidwanttoknowthetruthaboutit.I’dworkedforMrs.Llewellyn-Smytheforsometime,Ihad,andonewantstoknowhowthingshappened.”
“Quite,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“IfIthoughtI’ddonewhatIoughtn’ttohavedone,well,ofcourse,I’dhaveowneduptoit.ButIdidn’tthinkasI’ddoneanythingreallywrong,yousee.Notatthetime,ifyouunderstand,”sheadded.
“Ohyes,”saidMrs.Oliver,“I’msureIshallunderstand.Goon.Itwasaboutthiscodicil.”
“Yes,youseeonedayMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe—shehadn’tfelttoogoodthatdayandsosheaskedustocomein.Methatwas,andyoungJimwhohelpsdowninthegardenandbringsthesticksinandthecoals,andthingslikethat.Sowewentintoherroom,whereshewas,andshe’dgotpapersbeforeherthereonthedesk.Andsheturnstothisforeigngirl—MissOlgaweallcalledher—andsaid‘Yougooutoftheroomnow,dear,becauseyoumustn’tbemixedupinthispartofit,’orsomethinglikethat.SoMissOlga,shegoesoutoftheroomandMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe,shetellsustocomecloseandshesays‘ThisismyWill,thisis.’Shegotabitofblottingpaperoverthetoppartofitbutthebottomofit’squiteclear.Shesaid‘I’mwritingsomethinghereonthispieceofpaperandIwantyoutobeawitnessofwhatI’vewrittenandofmysignatureattheendofit.’Soshestartswritingalongthepage.Scratchypenshealwaysused,shewouldn’tuseBirosoranythinglikethat.Andshewritestwoorthreelinesofwritingandthenshesignedhername,andthenshesaystome,‘Now,Mrs.Leaman,youwriteyournamethere.Yournameandyouraddress’andthenshesaystoJim‘Andnowyouwriteyournameunderneaththere,andyouraddresstoo.There.That’lldo.Nowyou’veseenmewritethatandyou’veseenmysignatureandyou’vewrittenyournames,bothofyou,tosaythat’sthat.’Andthenshesays‘That’sall.Thankyouverymuch.’Sowegoesoutoftheroom.Well,Ididn’tthinknothingmoreofitatthetime,butIwonderedabit.AndithappenedasIturnsmyheadjustasIwasgoingoutoftheroom.Youseethedoordoesn’talwayslatchproperly.Youhavetogiveitapull,tomakeitclick.AndsoIwasdoingthat—Iwasn’treallylooking,ifyouknowwhatImean—”
“Iknowwhatyoumean,”saidMrs.Oliver,inanoncommittalvoice.
“AndsoIseesMrs.Llewellyn-Smythepullherselfupfromthechair—she’dgotarthritisandhadpainmovingaboutsometimes—andgoovertothebookcaseandshepulledoutabookandsheputsthatpieceofpapershe’djustsigned—inanenvelopeitwas—inoneofthebooks.Abigtallbookitwasinthebottomshelf.Andshesticksitbackinthebookcase.Well,Ineverthoughtofitagain,asyoumightsay.No,reallyIdidn’t.Butwhenallthisfusscameup,well,ofcourseIfelt—atleast,I—”Shecametoastop.
Mrs.Oliverhadoneofherusefulintuitions.
“Butsurely,”shesaid,“youdidn’twaitaslongasallthat—”
“Well,I’lltellyouthetruth,Iwill.I’lladmitIwascurious.Afterall,Imean,youwanttoknowwhenyou’vesignedanything,whatyou’vesigned,don’tyou?Imean,it’sonlyhumannature.”
“Yes,”saidMrs.Oliver,“it’sonlyhumannature.”
Curiosity,shethought,wasahighlycomponentpartinMrs.Leaman’shumannature.
“SoIwilladmitthatnextday,whenMrs.Llewellyn-SmythehaddrivenintoMedchesterandIwasdoingherbedroomasusual—abedsittingroomshehadbecauseshehadtorestalot.AndIthinks,‘Well,oneoughtreallytoknowwhenyou’vesignedathing,whatitisyou’vesigned.’Imeantheyalwayssaywiththesehirepurchasethings,youshouldreadthesmallprint.”
“Orinthiscase,thehandwriting,”suggestedMrs.Oliver.
“SoIthought,well,there’snoharm—it’snotasthoughIwastakinganything.ImeantosayI’dhadtosignmynamethere,andIthoughtIreallyoughttoknowwhatI’dsigned.SoIhadalookalongthebookshelves.Theyneededdustinganyway.AndIfoundtheone.Itwasonthebottomshelf.Itwasanoldbook,asortofQueenVictoria’skindofbook.AndIfoundthisenvelopewithafoldedpaperinitandthetitleofthebooksaidEnquireWithinuponEverything.Anditseemedthenasthoughitwas,sortofmeant,ifyouknowwhatImean?”
“Yes,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Itwasclearlymeant.Andsoyoutookoutthepaperandlookedatit.”
“That’sright,Madam.AndwhetherIdidwrongornotIdon’tknow.Butanyway,thereitwas.Itwasalegaldocumentallright.Onthelastpagetherewasthewritingwhatshe’dmadethemorningbefore.Newwritingwithanewscratchypenshewasusing.Itwasclearenoughtoread,though,althoughshehadaratherspikyhandwriting.”
“Andwhatdiditsay,”saidMrs.Oliver,hercuriositynowhavingjoineditselftothatpreviouslyfeltbyMrs.Leaman.
“Well,itsaidsomethinglike,asfarasIremember—theexactwordsI’mnotquitesureof—somethingaboutacodicilandthatafterthelegaciesmentionedinherWill,shebequeathedherentirefortunetoOlga—I’mnotsureofthesurname,itbeganwithanS.Seminoff,orsomethinglikethat—inconsiderationofhergreatkindnessandattentiontoherduringherillness.Andthereitwaswrittendownandshe’dsigneditandI’dsignedit,andJimhadsignedit.SoIputitbackwhereitwasbecauseIshouldn’tlikeMrs.Llewellyn-SmythetoknowthatI’dbeenpokingaboutinherthings.
“Butwell,Isaidtomyself,well,thisisasurprise.AndIthought,fancythatforeigngirlgettingallthatmoneybecauseweallknowasMrs.Llewellyn-Smythewasveryrich.Herhusbandhadbeeninshipbuildingandhe’dleftherabigfortune,andIthought,well,somepeoplehavealltheluck.Mindyou,Iwasn’tparticularlyfondofMissOlgamyself.Shehadasharpwaywithhersometimesandshehadquiteabadtemper.ButIwillsayasshewasalwaysveryattentiveandpoliteandallthat,totheoldlady.Lookingoutforherself,allright,shewas,andshegotawaywithit.AndIthought,well,leavingallthatmoneyawayfromherownfamily.ThenIthought,well,perhapsshe’shadatiffwiththemandlikelyasnotthatwillblowover,somaybeshe’lltearthisupandmakeanotherWillorcodicilafterall.Butanyway,thatwasthat,andIputitbackandIforgotaboutit,Isuppose.
“ButwhenallthefusscameupabouttheWill,andtherewastalkofhowithadbeenforgedandMrs.Llewellyn-Smythecouldneverhavewrittenthatcodicilherself—forthat’swhattheyweresaying,mindyou,asitwasn’ttheoldladywhohadwrittenthatatall,itwassomebodyelse—”
“Isee,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Andso,whatdidyoudo?”
“Ididn’tdoanything.Andthat’swhat’sworryingme…Ididn’tgetthehangofthingsatonce.AndwhenI’dthoughtthingsoverabitIdidn’tknowrightlywhatIoughttodoandIthought,well,itwasalltalkbecausethelawyerswereagainsttheforeigner,likepeoplealwaysare.I’mnotveryfondofforeignersmyself,I’lladmit.Atanyrate,thereitwas,andtheyoungladyherselfwasswankingabout,givingherselfairs,lookingaspleasedasPunchandIthought,well,maybeit’sallalegalthingofsomekindandthey’llsayshe’snorighttothemoneybecauseshewasn’trelatedtotheoldlady.Soeverythingwillbeallright.Anditwasinawaybecause,yousee,theygaveuptheideaofbringingthecase.Itdidn’tcometocourtatallandasfarasanyoneknew,MissOlgaranaway.WentoffbacktotheContinentsomewhere,whereshecamefrom.Soitlooksasthoughtheremusthavebeensomehocus-pocusofsomekindonherpart.Maybeshethreatenedtheoldladyandmadeherdoit.Youneverknow,doyou?Oneofmynephewswho’sgoingtobeadoctor,saysyoucandowonderfulthingswithhypnotism.Ithoughtperhapsshehypnotizedtheoldlady.”
“Thiswashowlongago?”
“Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’sbeendeadfor—letmesee,nearlytwoyears.”
“Anditdidn’tworryyou?”
“No,itdidn’tworryme.Notatthetime.Becauseyousee,Ididn’trightlyseethatitmattered.Everythingwasallright,therewasn’tanyquestionofthatMissOlgagettingawaywiththemoney,soIdidn’tseeasitwasanycallforme—”
“Butnowyoufeeldifferently?”
“It’sthatnastydeath—thechildthatwaspushedintoabucketofapples.Sayingthingsaboutamurder,sayingshe’dseensomethingorknownsomethingaboutamurder.AndIthoughtmaybeasMissOlgahadmurderedtheoldladybecausesheknewallthismoneywascomingtoherandthenshegotthewindupwhentherewasafussandlawyersandthepolice,maybe,andsosheranaway.SothenIthoughtwell,perhapsIoughtto—well,Ioughttotellsomeone,andIthoughtyou’dbealadyashasgotfriendsinlegaldepartments.Friendsinthepoliceperhaps,andyou’dexplaintothemthatIwasonlydustingabookshelf,andthispaperwasthereinabookandIputitbackwhereitbelonged.Ididn’ttakeitawayoranything.”
“Butthat’swhathappened,wasit,onthatoccasion?YousawMrs.Llewellyn-SmythewriteacodiciltoherWill.YousawherwritehernameandyouyourselfandthisJimsomeonewereboththereandyoubothwroteyourownnamesyourselves.That’sit,isn’tit?”
“That’sright.”
“SoifyoubothsawMrs.Llewellyn-Smythewritehername,thenthatsignaturecouldn’thavebeenaforgery,couldit?Notifyousawherwriteitherself.”
“Isawherwriteitherselfandthat’stheabsolutetruthI’mspeaking.AndJim’dsaysotooonlyhe’sgonetoAustralia,hehas.WentoverayearagoandIdon’tknowhisaddressoranything.Hedidn’tcomefromtheseparts,anyway.”
“Andwhatdoyouwantmetodo?”
“Well,Iwantyoutotellmeifthere’sanythingIoughttosay,ordo—now.Nobody’saskedme,mindyou.NobodyeveraskedmeifIknewanythingaboutaWill.”
“YournameisLeaman.WhatChristianname?”
“Harriet.”
“HarrietLeaman.AndJim,whatwashislastname?”
“Well,now,whatwasit?Jenkins.That’sright.JamesJenkins.I’dbemuchobligedifyoucouldhelpmebecauseitworriesme,yousee.AllthistroublecomingalongandifthatMissOlgadidit,murderedMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe,Imean,andyoungJoycesawherdoit…Shewaseversocock-a-hoopaboutitall,MissOlgawas,Imeanabouthearingfromthelawyersasshe’dcomeintoalotofmoney.Butitwasdifferentwhenthepolicecameroundaskingquestions,andshewentoffverysudden,shedid.Nobodyaskedmeanything,theydidn’t.ButnowIcan’thelpwonderingifIoughttohavesaidsomethingatthetime.”
“Ithink,”saidMrs.Oliver,“thatyouwillprobablyhavetotellthisstoryofyourstowhoeverrepresentedMrs.Llewellyn-Smytheasalawyer.I’msureagoodlawyerwillquiteunderstandyourfeelingsandyourmotive.”
“Well,I’msureifyou’dsayawordformeandtellthem,beingaladyasknowswhat’swhat,howitcameabout,andhowInevermeantto—well,nottodoanythingdishonestinanyway.Imean,allIdid—”
“Allyoudidwastosaynothing,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Itseemsquiteareasonableexplanation.”
“Andifitcouldcomefromyou—sayingawordformefirst,youknow,toexplain,I’dbeeversograteful.”
“I’lldowhatIcan,”saidMrs.Oliver.
Hereyesstrayedtothegardenpathwhereshesawaneatfigureapproaching.
“Well,thankseversomuch.Theysaidasyouwereaverynicelady,andI’msureI’mmuchobligedtoyou.”
Sherosetoherfeet,replacedthecottongloveswhichshehadtwistedentirelyoffinheranguish,madeakindofhalfnodorbob,andtrottedoff.Mrs.OliverwaiteduntilPoirotapproached.
“Comehere,”shesaid,“andsitdown.What’sthematterwithyou?Youlookupset.”
“Myfeetareextremelypainful,”saidHerculePoirot.
“It’sthoseawfultightpatentleathershoesofyours,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Sitdown.Tellmewhatyoucametotellme,andthenI’lltellyousomethingthatyoumaybesurprisedtohear!”
Eighteen
Poirotsatdown,stretchedouthislegsandsaid:“Ah!thatisbetter.”
“Takeyourshoesoff,”saidMrs.Oliver,“andrestyourfeet.”
“No,no,Icouldnotdothat.”Poirotsoundedshockedatthepossibility.
“Well,we’reoldfriendstogether,”saidMrs.Oliver,“andJudithwouldn’tmindifshecameoutofthehouse.Youknow,ifyou’llexcusemesayingso,yououghtn’ttowearpatentleathershoesinthecountry.Whydon’tyougetyourselfanicepairofsuèdeshoes?Orthethingsallthehippy-lookingboyswearnowadays?Youknow,thesortofshoesthatslipon,andyouneverhavetocleanthem—apparentlytheycleanthemselvesbysomeextraordinaryprocessorother.Oneoftheselaboursavinggimmicks.”
“Iwouldnotcareforthatatall,”saidPoirotseverely.“No,indeed!”
“Thetroublewithyouis,”saidMrs.Oliver,beginningtounwrapapackageonthetablewhichshehadobviouslyrecentlypurchased,“thetroublewithyouisthatyouinsistonbeingsmart.Youmindmoreaboutyourclothesandyourmoustachesandhowyoulookandwhatyouwearthancomfort.Nowcomfortisreallythegreatthing.Onceyou’vepassed,say,fifty,comfortistheonlythingthatmatters.”
“Madame,chèreMadame,IdonotknowthatIagreewithyou.”
“Well,you’dbetter,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Ifnot,youwillsufferagreatdeal,anditwillbeworseyearafteryear.”
Mrs.Oliverfishedagailycoveredboxfromitspaperbag.Removingthelidofthis,shepickedupasmallportionofitscontentsandtransferredittohermouth.Shethenlickedherfingers,wipedthemonahandkerchief,andmurmured,ratherindistinctly:
“Sticky.”
“Doyounolongereatapples?Ihavealwaysseenyouwithabagofapplesinyourhand,oreatingthem,oronoccasionsthebagbreaksandtheytumbleoutontheroad.”
“Itoldyou,”saidMrs.Oliver,“ItoldyouthatIneverwanttoseeanappleagain.No.Ihateapples.IsupposeIshallgetoveritsomedayandeatthemagain,but—well,Idon’tliketheassociationsofapples.”
“Andwhatisitthatyoueatnow?”Poirotpickedupthegailycolouredliddecoratedwithapictureofapalmtree.“Tunisdates,”heread.“Ah,datesnow.”
“That’sright,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Dates.”
Shetookanotherdateandputitinhermouth,removedastonewhichshethrewintoabushandcontinuedtomunch.
“Dates,”saidPoirot.“Itisextraordinary.”
“Whatisextraordinaryabouteatingdates?Peopledo.”
“No,no,Ididnotmeanthat.Noteatingthem.Itisextraordinarythatyoushouldsaytomelikethat—dates.”
“Why?”askedMrs.Oliver.
“Because,”saidPoirot,“againandagainyouindicatetomethepath,thehowdoyousay,thecheminthatIshouldtakeorthatIshouldhavealreadytaken.YoushowmethewaythatIshouldgo.Dates.TillthismomentIdidnotrealizehowimportantdateswere.”
“Ican’tseethatdateshaveanythingtodowithwhat’shappenedhere.Imean,there’snorealtimeinvolved.Thewholethingtookplacewhat—onlyfivedaysago.”
“Theeventtookplacefourdaysago.Yes,thatisverytrue.Buttoeverythingthathappenstherehastobeapast.Apastwhichisbynowincorporatedintoday,butwhichexistedyesterdayorlastmonthorlastyear.Thepresentisnearlyalwaysrootedinthepast.Ayear,twoyears,perhapseventhreeyearsago,amurderwascommitted.Achildsawthatmurder.Becausethatchildsawthatmurderonacertaindatenowlonggoneby,thatchilddiedfourdaysago.Isnotthatso?”
“Yes.That’sso.Atleast,Isupposeitis.Itmightn’thavebeenatall.Itmightbejustsomementallydisturbednutwholikedkillingpeopleandwhoseideaofplayingwithwateristopushsomebody’sheadunderitandholditthere.Itmighthavebeendescribedasamentaldelinquent’sbitoffunataparty.”
“Itwasnotthatbeliefthatbroughtyoutome,Madame.”
“No,”saidMrs.Oliver,“no,itwasn’t.Ididn’tlikethefeelofthings.Istilldon’tlikethefeelofthings.”
“AndIagreewithyou.Ithinkyouarequiteright.Ifonedoesnotlikethefeelofthings,onemustlearnwhy.Iamtryingveryhard,thoughyoumaynotthinkso,tolearnwhy.”
“Bygoingaroundandtalkingtopeople,findingoutiftheyareniceornotandthenaskingthemquestions?”
“Exactly.”
“Andwhathaveyoulearnt?”
“Facts,”saidPoirot.“Factswhichwillhaveinduecoursetobeanchoredintheirplacebydates,shallwesay.”
“Isthatall?Whatelsehaveyoulearnt?”
“ThatnobodybelievesintheveracityofJoyceReynolds.”
“Whenshesaidshesawsomeonekilled?ButIheardher.”
“Yes,shesaidit.Butnobodybelievesitistrue.Theprobabilityis,therefore,thatitwasnottrue.Thatshesawnosuchthing.”
“Itseemstome,”saidMrs.Oliver,“asthoughyourfactswereleadingyoubackwardsinsteadofremainingonthespotorgoingforward.”
“Thingshavetobemadetoaccord.Takeforgery,forinstance.Thefactofforgery.Everybodysaysthataforeigngirl,theaupairgirl,soendearedherselftoanelderlyandveryrichwidowthatthatrichwidowleftaWill,oracodiciltoaWill,leavingallhermoneytothisgirl.DidthegirlforgethatWillordidsomebodyelseforgeit?”
“Whoelsecouldhaveforgedit?”
“Therewasanotherforgerinthisvillage.Someone,thatis,whohadoncebeenaccusedofforgerybuthadgotofflightlyasafirstoffenderandwithextenuatingcircumstances.”
“Isthisanewcharacter?OneIknow?”
“No,youdonotknowhim.Heisdead.”
“Oh?Whendidhedie?”
“Abouttwoyearsago.TheexactdateIdonotasyetknow.ButIshallhavetoknow.Heissomeonewhohadpractisedforgeryandwholivedinthisplace.Andbecauseofalittlewhatyoumightcallgirltroublearousingjealousyandvariousemotions,hewasknifedonenightanddied.Ihavetheidea,yousee,thatalotofseparatedincidentsmighttieupmorecloselythananyonehasthought.Notanyofthem.Probablynotallofthem,butseveralofthem.”
“Itsoundsinteresting,”saidMrs.Oliver,“butIcan’tsee—”
“NorcanIasyet,”saidPoirot.“ButIthinkdatesmighthelp.Datesofcertainhappenings,wherepeoplewere,whathappenedtothem,whattheyweredoing.EverybodythinksthattheforeigngirlforgedtheWillandprobably,”saidPoirot,“everybodywasright.Shewastheonetogainbyit,wasshenot?Wait—wait—”
“Waitforwhat?”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Anideathatpassedthroughmyhead,”saidPoirot.
Mrs.Oliversighedandtookanotherdate.
“YoureturntoLondon,Madame?Orareyoumakingalongstayhere?”
“Dayaftertomorrow,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Ican’tstayanylonger.I’vegotagoodmanythingscroppingup.”
“Tellme,now—inyourflat,yourhouse,Icannotrememberwhichitisnow,youhavemovedsomanytimeslately,thereisroomtheretohaveguests?”
“Ineveradmitthatthereis,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Ifyoueveradmitthatyou’vegotafreeguestroominLondon,you’veaskedforit.Allyourfriends,andnotonlyyourfriends,youracquaintancesorindeedyouracquaintances’thirdcousinssometimes,writeyoulettersandsaywouldyoumindjustputtingthemupforanight.Well,Idomind.Whatwithsheetsandlaundry,pillowcasesandwantingearlymorningteaandveryoftenexpectingmealsservedtothem,peoplecome.SoIdon’tletonthatIhavegotanavailablespareroom.Myfriendscomeandstaywithme.ThepeopleIreallywanttosee,buttheothers—no,I’mnothelpful.Idon’tlikejustbeingmadeuseof.”
“Whodoes?”saidHerculePoirot.“Youareverywise.”
“Andanyway,what’sallthisabout?”
“Youcouldputuponeortwoguests,ifneedarose?”
“Icould,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Whodoyouwantmetoputup?Notyouyourself.You’vegotasplendidflatofyourown.Ultramodern,veryabstract,allsquaresandcubes.”
“Itisjustthattheremightbeawiseprecautiontotake.”
“Forwhom?Somebodyelsegoingtobekilled?”
“Itrustandpraynot,butitmightbewithintheboundofpossibility.”
“Butwho?Who?Ican’tunderstand.”
“Howwelldoyouknowyourfriend?”
“Knowher?Notwell.Imean,welikedeachotheronacruiseandgotinthehabitofpairingofftogether.Therewassomething—whatshallIsay?—excitingabouther.Different.”
“Didyouthinkyoumightputherinabooksomeday?”
“Idohatethatphrasebeingused.Peoplearealwayssayingittomeandit’snottrue.Notreally.Idon’tputpeopleinbooks.PeopleImeet,peopleIknow.”
“Isitperhapsnottruetosay,Madame,thatyoudoputpeopleinbookssometimes?Peoplethatyoumeet,butnot,Iagree,peoplethatyouknow.Therewouldbenofuninthat.”
“You’requiteright,”saidMrs.Oliver.“You’rereallyrathergoodatguessingthingssometimes.Itdoeshappenthatway.Imean,youseeafatwomansittinginabuseatingacurrantbunandherlipsaremovingaswellaseating,andyoucanseeshe’seithersayingsomethingtosomeoneorthinkingupatelephonecallthatshe’sgoingtomake,orperhapsalettershe’sgoingtowrite.Andyoulookatherandyoustudyhershoesandtheskirtshe’sgotonandherhatandguessherageandwhethershe’sgotaweddingringonandafewotherthings.Andthenyougetoutofthebus.Youdon’twantevertoseeheragain,butyou’vegotastoryinyourmindaboutsomebodycalledMrs.Carnabywhoisgoinghomeinabus,havinghadaverystrangeinterviewsomewherewhereshesawsomeoneinapastrycook’sandwasremindedofsomeoneshe’donlymetonceandwhoshehadheardwasdeadandapparentlyisn’tdead.Dearme,”saidMrs.Oliver,pausingforbreath.“Youknow,it’squitetrue.IdidsitacrossfromsomeoneinabusjustbeforeIleftLondon,andhereitisallworkingoutbeautifullyinsidemyhead.Ishallhavethewholestorysoon.Thewholesequence,whatshe’sgoingbacktosay,whetherit’llrunherintodangerorsomebodyelseintodanger.IthinkIevenknowhername.Hername’sConstance.ConstanceCarnaby.There’sonlyonethingwouldruinit.”
“Andwhatisthat?”
“Well,Imean,ifImetheragaininanotherbus,orspoketoherorshetalkedtomeorIbegantoknowsomethingabouther.Thatwouldruineverything,ofcourse.”
“Yes,yes.Thestorymustbeyours,thecharacterisyours.Sheisyourchild.Youhavemadeher,youbegintounderstandher,youknowhowshefeels,youknowwhereshelivesandyouknowwhatshedoes.Butthatallstartedwithareal,livehumanbeingandifyoufoundoutwhatthereallivehumanbeingwaslike—wellthen,therewouldbenostory,wouldthere?”
“Rightagain,”saidMrs.Oliver.“AstowhatyouweresayingaboutJudith,Ithinkthatistrue.Imean,weweretogetheralotonthecruise,andwewenttoseetheplacesbutIdidn’treallygettoknowherparticularlywell.She’sawidow,andherhusbanddiedandshewasleftbadlyoffwithonechild,Miranda,whomyou’veseen.Andit’struethatI’vegotratherafunnyfeelingaboutthem.Afeelingasthoughtheymattered,asthoughthey’remixedupinsomeinterestingdrama.Idon’twanttoknowwhatthedramais.Idon’twantthemtotellme.IwanttothinkofthesortofdramaIwouldlikethemtobein.”
“Yes.Yes,Icanseethattheyare—well,candidatesforinclusionforanotherbestsellerbyAriadneOliver.”
“Youreallyareabeastsometimes,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Youmakeitallsoundsovulgar.”Shepausedthoughtfully.“Perhapsitis.”
“No,no,itisnotvulgar.Itisjusthuman.”
“AndyouwantmetoinviteJudithandMirandatomyflatorhouseinLondon?”
“Notyet,”saidPoirot.“NotyetuntilIamsurethatoneofmylittleideasmightberight.”
“Youandyourlittleideas!NowI’vegotapieceofnewsforyou.”
“Madame,youdelightme.”
“Don’tbetoosure.Itwillprobablyupsetyourideas.SupposingItellyouthattheforgeryyouhavebeensobusytalkingaboutwasn’taforgeryatall.”
“Whatisthatyousay?”
“Mrs.ApJonesSmythe,orwhateverhernameis,didmakeacodiciltoherWillleavingallhermoneytotheaupairgirlandtwowitnessessawhersignit,andsigneditalsointhepresenceofeachother.Putthatinyourmoustacheandsmokeit.”
Nineteen
“Mrs.—Leaman—”saidPoirot,writingdownthename.
“That’sright.HarrietLeaman.AndtheotherwitnessseemstohavebeenaJamesJenkins.LastheardofgoingtoAustralia.AndMissOlgaSeminoffseemstohavebeenlastheardofreturningtoCzechoslovakia,orwherevershecamefrom.Everybodyseemstohavegonesomewhereelse.”
“HowreliabledoyouthinkthisMrs.Leamanis?”
“Idon’tthinkshemadeitallup,ifthat’swhatyoumean.Ithinkshesignedsomething,thatshewascuriousaboutit,andthatshetookthefirstopportunityshehadoffindingoutwhatshe’dsigned.”
“Shecanreadandwrite?”
“Isupposeso.ButIagreethatpeoplearen’tverygoodsometimes,atreadingoldladies’handwriting,whichisveryspikyandveryhardtoread.Iftherewereanyrumoursflyingaboutlater,aboutthisWillorcodicil,shemighthavethoughtthatthatwaswhatshe’dreadinthisratherundecipherablehandwriting.”
“Agenuinedocument,”saidPoirot.“Buttherewasalsoaforgedcodicil.”
“Whosaysso?”
“Lawyers.”
“Perhapsitwasn’tforgedatall.”
“Lawyersareveryparticularaboutthesematters.Theywerepreparedtocomeintocourtwithexpertwitnesses.”
“Ohwell,”saidMrs.Oliver,“thenit’seasytoseewhatmusthavehappened,isn’tit?”
“Whatiseasy?Whathappened?”
“Well,ofcourse,thenextdayorafewdayslater,orevenasmuchasaweeklater,Mrs.Llewellyn-Smytheeitherhadabitofatiffwithherdevotedaupairattendant,orshehadadeliciousreconciliationwithhernephew,Hugo,orhernieceRowena,andshetoreuptheWillorscratchedoutthecodicilorsomethinglikethat,orburntthewholething.”
“Andafterthat?”
“Well,afterthat,Isuppose,Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythedies,andthegirlseizesherchanceandwritesanewcodicilinroughlythesametermsinasneartoMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’shandwritingasshecan,andthetwowitnessingsignaturesasnearasshecan.SheprobablyknowsMrs.Leaman’swritingquitewell.Itwouldbeonnationalhealthcardsorsomethinglikethat,andsheproducesit,thinkingthatsomeonewillagreetohavingwitnessedtheWillandthatallwouldbewell.Butherforgeryisn’tgoodenoughandsotroublestarts.”
“Willyoupermitme,chèreMadame,touseyourtelephone?”
“IwillpermityoutouseJudithButler’stelephone,yes.”
“Whereisyourfriend?”
“Oh,she’sgonetogetherhairdone.AndMirandahasgoneforawalk.Goon,it’sintheroomthroughthewindowthere.”
Poirotwentinandreturnedabouttenminuteslater.
“Well?Whathaveyoubeendoing?”
“IrangupMr.Fullerton,thesolicitor.Iwillnowtellyousomething.Thecodicil,theforgedcodicilthatwasproducedforprobatewasnotwitnessedbyHarrietLeaman.ItwaswitnessedbyaMaryDoherty,deceased,whohadbeeninservicewithMrs.Llewellyn-Smythebuthadrecentlydied.TheotherwitnesswastheJamesJenkins,who,asyourfriendMrs.Leamanhastoldyou,departedforAustralia.”
“Sotherewasaforgedcodicil,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Andthereseemstohavebeenarealcodicilaswell.Lookhere,Poirot,isn’tthisallgettingalittletoocomplicated?”
“Itisgettingincrediblycomplicated,”saidHerculePoirot.“Thereis,ifImaymentionit,toomuchforgeryabout.”
“PerhapstherealoneisstillinthelibraryatQuarryHouse,withinthepagesofEnquireWithinuponEverything.”
“IunderstandalltheeffectsofthehouseweresoldupatMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’sdeath,exceptforafewpiecesoffamilyfurnitureandsomefamilypictures.”
“Whatweneed,”saidMrs.Oliver,“issomethinglikeEnquireWithinherenow.It’salovelytitle,isn’tit?Iremembermygrandmotherhadone.Youcould,youknow,inquirewithinabouteverything,too.Legalinformationandcookingrecipesandhowtotakeinkstainsoutoflinen.Howtomakehomemadefacepowderthatwouldnotdamagethecomplexion.Oh—andlotsmore.Yes,wouldn’tyouliketohaveabooklikethatnow?”
“Doubtless,”saidHerculePoirot,“itwouldgivetherecipefortreatmentoftiredfeet.”
“Plentyofthem,Ishouldthink.Butwhydon’tyouwearpropercountryshoes?”
“Madame,Iliketolooksoignéinmyappearance.”
“Well,thenyou’llhavetogoonwearingthingsthatarepainful,andgrinandbearit,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Allthesame,Idon’tunderstandanythingnow.WasthatLeamanwomantellingmeapackofliesjustnow?”
“Itisalwayspossible.”
“Didsomeonetellhertotellapackoflies?”
“Thattooispossible.”
“Didsomeonepayhertotellmeapackoflies?”
“Continue,”saidPoirot,“continue.Youaredoingverynicely.”
“Isuppose,”saidMrs.Oliverthoughtfully,“thatMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe,likemanyanotherrichwoman,enjoyedmakingWills.Iexpectshemadeagoodmanyduringherlife.Youknow;benefitingonepersonandthenanother.Changingabout.TheDrakeswerewelloff,anyway.Iexpectshealwaysleftthematleastahandsomelegacy,butIwonderifsheeverleftanyoneelseasmuchassheappears,accordingtoMrs.LeamanandaccordingtotheforgedWillaswell,tothatgirlOlga.I’dliketoknowabitmoreaboutthatgirl,Imustsay.Shecertainlyseemsaverysuccessfuldisappearess.”
“Ihopetoknowmoreabouthershortly,”saidHerculePoirot.
“How?”
“InformationthatIshallreceiveshortly.”
“Iknowyou’vebeenaskingforinformationdownhere.”
“Nothereonly.IhaveanagentinLondonwhoobtainsinformationformebothabroadandinthiscountry.IshouldhavesomenewspossiblysoonfromHerzogovinia.”
“Willyoufindoutifsheeverarrivedbackthere?”
“ThatmightbeonethingIshouldlearn,butitseemsmorelikelythatImaygetinformationofadifferentkind—lettersperhapswrittenduringhersojourninthiscountry,mentioningfriendsshemayhavemadehere,andbecomeintimatewith.”
“Whatabouttheschoolteacher?”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Whichonedoyoumean?”
“Imeantheonewhowasstrangled—theoneElizabethWhittakertoldyouabout?”Sheadded,“Idon’tlikeElizabethWhittakermuch.Tiresomesortofwoman,butclever,Ishouldthink.”Sheaddeddreamily,“Iwouldn’tputitpasthertohavethoughtupamurder.”
“Strangleanotherteacher,doyoumean?”
“Onehastoexhaustallthepossibilities.”
“Ishallrely,assooften,onyourintuition,Madame.”
Mrs.Oliverateanotherdatethoughtfully.
Twenty
WhenheleftMrs.Butler’shouse,PoirottookthesamewayashadbeenshownhimbyMiranda.Theapertureinthehedge,itseemedtohim,hadbeenslightlyenlargedsincelasttime.Somebody,perhaps,withslightlymorebulkthanMiranda,haduseditalso.Heascendedthepathinthequarry,noticingoncemorethebeautyofthescene.Alovelyspot,andyetinsomeway,Poirotfeltashehadfeltbefore,thatitcouldbeahauntedspot.Therewasakindofpaganruthlessnessaboutit.Itcouldbealongthesewindingpathsthatthefairieshuntedtheirvictimsdownoracoldgoddessdecreedthatsacrificeswouldhavetobeoffered.
Hecouldunderstandwhyithadnotbecomeapicnicspot.Onewouldnotwantforsomereasontobringyourhard-boiledeggsandyourlettuceandyourorangesandsitdownhereandcrackjokesandhaveajollification.Itwasdifferent,quitedifferent.Itwouldhavebeenbetter,perhaps,hethoughtsuddenly,ifMrs.Llewellyn-Smythehadnotwantedthisfairy-liketransformation.Quiteamodestsunkgardencouldhavebeenmadeoutofaquarrywithouttheatmosphere,butshehadbeenanambitiouswoman,ambitiousandaveryrichwoman.HethoughtforamomentortwoaboutWills,thekindofWillsmadebyrichwomen,thekindofliestoldaboutWillsmadebyrichwomen,theplacesinwhichtheWillsofrichwidowsweresometimeshidden,andhetriedtoputhimselfbackintothemindofaforger.UndoubtablytheWillofferedforprobatehadbeenaforgery.Mr.Fullertonwasacarefulandcompetentlawyer.Hewassureofthat.Thekindoflawyer,too,whowouldneveradviseaclienttobringacaseortotakelegalproceedingsunlesstherewasverygoodevidenceandjustificationforsodoing.
Heturnedacornerofthepathwayfeelingforthemomentthathisfeetweremuchmoreimportantthanhisspeculations.WashetakingashortcuttoSuperintendentSpence’sdwellingorwashenot?Asthecrowflies,perhaps,butthemainroadmighthavebeenmoregoodtohisfeet.Thispathwasnotagrassyormossyone,ithadthequarryhardnessofstone.Thenhepaused.
Infrontofhimweretwofigures.SittingonanoutcropofrockwasMichaelGarfield.Hehadasketchingblockonhiskneesandhewasdrawing,hisattentionfullyonwhathewasdoing.Alittlewayawayfromhim,standingclosebesideaminutebutmusicalstreamthatfloweddownfromabove,MirandaButlerwasstanding.HerculePoirotforgothisfeet,forgotthepainsandillsofthehumanbody,andconcentratedagainonthebeautythathumanbeingscouldattain.TherewasnodoubtthatMichaelGarfieldwasaverybeautifulyoungman.HefounditdifficulttoknowwhetherhehimselflikedMichaelGarfieldornot.Itisalwaysdifficulttoknowifyoulikeanyonebeautiful.Youlikebeautytolookat,atthesametimeyoudislikebeautyalmostonprinciple.Womencouldbebeautiful,butHerculePoirotwasnotatallsurethathelikedbeautyinmen.Hewouldnothavelikedtobeabeautifulyoungmanhimself,notthattherehadeverbeentheleastchanceofthat.TherewasonlyonethingabouthisownappearancewhichreallypleasedHerculePoirot,andthatwastheprofusionofhismoustaches,andthewaytheyrespondedtogroomingandtreatmentandtrimming.Theyweremagnificent.Heknewofnobodyelsewhohadanymoustachehalfasgood.Hehadneverbeenhandsomeorgood-looking.Certainlyneverbeautiful.
AndMiranda?Hethoughtagain,ashehadthoughtbefore,thatitwashergravitythatwassoattractive.Hewonderedwhatpassedthroughhermind.Itwasthesortofthingonewouldneverknow.Shewouldnotsaywhatshewasthinkingeasily.Hedoubtedifshewouldtellyouwhatshewasthinking,ifyouaskedher.Shehadanoriginalmind,hethought,areflectivemind.Hethoughttooshewasvulnerable.Veryvulnerable.Therewereotherthingsaboutherthatheknew,orthoughtheknew.Itwasonlythinkingsofar,butyethewasalmostsure.
MichaelGarfieldlookedupandsaid,
“Ha!Se?orMoustachios.Averygoodafternoontoyou,sir.”
“CanIlookatwhatyouaredoingorwoulditincommodeyou?Idonotwanttobeintrusive.”
“Youcanlook,”saidMichaelGarfield,“itmakesnodifferencetome.”Headdedgently,“I’menjoyingmyselfverymuch.”
Poirotcametostandbehindhisshoulder.Henodded.Itwasaverydelicatepencildrawing,thelinesalmostinvisible.Themancoulddraw,Poirotthought.Notonlydesigngardens.Hesaid,almostunderhisbreath:
“Exquisite!”
“Ithinksotoo,”saidMichaelGarfield.
Heletitbeleftdoubtfulwhetherhereferredtothedrawinghewasmaking,ortothesitter.
“Why?”askedPoirot.
“WhyamIdoingit?DoyouthinkIhaveareason?”
“Youmighthave.”
“You’requiteright.IfIgoawayfromhere,thereareoneortwothingsIwanttoremember.Mirandaisoneofthem.”
“Wouldyouforgethereasily?”
“Veryeasily.Iamlikethat.Buttohaveforgottensomethingorsomeone,tobeunabletobringaface,aturnofashoulder,agesture,atree,aflower,acontouroflandscape,toknowwhatitwasliketoseeitbutnottobeabletobringthatimageinfrontofone’seyes,thatsometimescauses—whatshallIsay—almostagony.Yousee,yourecord—anditallpassesaway.”
“NottheQuarryGardenorpark.Thathasnotpassedaway.”
“Don’tyouthinkso?Itsoonwill.Itsoonwillifnooneishere.Naturetakesover,youknow.Itneedsloveandattentionandcareandskill.IfaCounciltakesitover—andthat’swhathappensveryoftennowadays—thenitwillbewhattheycall‘keptup.’Thelatestsortofshrubsmaybeputin,extrapathswillbemade,seatswillbeputatcertaindistances.Litterbinsevenmaybeerected.Oh,theyaresocareful,sokindatpreserving.Youcan’tpreservethis.It’swild.Tokeepsomethingwildisfarmoredifficultthantopreserveit.”
“MonsieurPoirot.”Miranda’svoicecameacrossthestream.
Poirotmovedforward,sothathecamewithinearshotofher.
“SoIfindyouhere.Soyoucametositforyourportrait,didyou?”
Sheshookherhead.
“Ididn’tcomeforthat.Thatjusthappened.”
“Yes,”saidMichaelGarfield,“yes,itjusthappened.Apieceoflucksometimescomesone’sway.”
“Youwerejustwalkinginyourfavouritegarden?”
“Iwaslookingforthewell,really,”saidMiranda.
“Awell?”
“Therewasawishingwellonceinthiswood.”
“Inaformerquarry?Ididn’tknowtheykeptwellsinquarries.”
“Therewasalwaysawoodroundthequarry.Well,therewerealwaystreeshere.Michaelknowswherethewellisbuthewon’ttellme.”
“Itwillbemuchmorefunforyou,”saidMichaelGarfield,“togoonlookingforit.Especiallywhenyou’renotatallsureitreallyexists.”
“OldMrs.Goodbodyknowsallaboutit.”
Andadded:
“She’sawitch.”
“Quiteright,”saidMichael.“She’sthelocalwitch,MonsieurPoirot.There’salwaysalocalwitch,youknow,inmostplaces.Theydon’talwayscallthemselveswitches,buteveryoneknows.Theytellafortuneorputaspellonyourbegoniasorshrivelupyourpeoniesorstopafarmer’scowfromgivingmilkandprobablygivelovepotionsaswell.”
“Itwasawishingwell,”saidMiranda.“Peopleusedtocomehereandwish.Theyhadtogorounditthreetimesbackwardsanditwasonthesideofthehill,soitwasn’talwaysveryeasytodo.”
ShelookedpastPoirotatMichaelGarfield.“Ishallfinditoneday,”shesaid,“evenifyouwon’ttellme.It’sheresomewhere,butitwassealedup,Mrs.Goodbodysaid.Oh!yearsago.Sealedupbecauseitwassaidtobedangerous.Achildfellintoityearsago—KittySomebody.Someoneelsemighthavefallenintoit.”
“Well,goonthinkingso,”saidMichaelGarfield.“It’sagoodlocalstory,butthereisawishingwelloveratLittleBelling.”
“Ofcourse,”saidMiranda.“Iknowallaboutthatone.It’saverycommonone,”shesaid.“Everybodyknowsaboutit,andit’sverysilly.Peoplethrowpenniesintoitandthere’snotanywaterinitanymoresothere’snotevenasplash.”
“Well,I’msorry.”
“I’lltellyouwhenIfindit,”saidMiranda.
“Youmustn’talwaysbelieveeverythingawitchsays.Idon’tbelieveanychildeverfellintoit.Iexpectacatfellintoitonceandgotdrowned.”
“Dingdongdell,pussy’sinthewell,”saidMiranda.Shegotup.“Imustgonow,”shesaid.“Mummywillbeexpectingme.”
Shemovedcarefullyfromtheknobofrock,smiledatboththemenandwentoffdownanevenmoreintransigentpaththatrantheothersideofthewater.
“‘Dingdongdell,’”saidPoirot,thoughtfully.“Onebelieveswhatonewantstobelieve,MichaelGarfield.Wassherightorwasshenotright?”
MichaelGarfieldlookedathimthoughtfully,thenhesmiled.
“Sheisquiteright,”hesaid.“Thereisawell,anditisasshesayssealedup.Isupposeitmayhavebeendangerous.Idon’tthinkitwaseverawishingwell.Ithinkthat’sMrs.Goodbody’sownbitoffancytalk.There’sawishingtree,ortherewasonce.AbeechtreehalfwayupthehillsidethatIbelievepeopledidgoroundthreetimesbackwardsandwished.”
“What’shappenedtothat?Don’ttheygorounditanymore?”
“No.Ibelieveitwasstruckbylightningaboutsixyearsago.Splitintwo.Sothatprettystory’sgonewest.”
“HaveyoutoldMirandaaboutthat?”
“No.IthoughtI’dratherleaveherwithherwell.Ablastedbeechwouldn’tbemuchfunforher,wouldit?”
“Imustgoonmyway,”saidPoirot.
“Goingbacktoyourpolicefriend?”
“Yes.”
“Youlooktired.”
“Iamtired,”saidHerculePoirot.“Iamextremelytired.”
“You’dbemorecomfortableincanvasshoesorsandals.”
“Ah,?a,non.”
“Isee.Youaresartoriallyambitious.”HelookedatPoirot.“Thetoutensemble,itisverygoodandespecially,ifImaymentionit,yoursuperbmoustache.”
“Iamgratified,”saidPoirot,“thatyouhavenoticedit.”
“Thepointisrather,couldanyonenotnoticeit?”
Poirotputhisheadononeside.Thenhesaid:
“YouspokeofthedrawingyouaredoingbecauseyouwishtoremembertheyoungMiranda.Doesthatmeanyou’regoingawayfromhere?”
“Ihavethoughtofit,yes.”
“Yetyouare,itseemstome,bienplacéici.”
“Ohyes,eminentlyso.Ihaveahousetolivein,ahousesmallbutdesignedbymyself,andIhavemywork,butthatislesssatisfactorythanitusedtobe.Sorestlessnessiscomingoverme.”
“Whyisyourworklesssatisfactory?”
“Becausepeoplewishmetodothemostatrociousthings.Peoplewhowanttoimprovetheirgardens,peoplewhoboughtsomelandandthey’rebuildingahouseandwantthegardendesigned.”
“AreyounotdoinghergardenforMrs.Drake?”
“Shewantsmeto,yes.Imadesuggestionsforitandsheseemedtoagreewiththem.Idon’tthink,though,”headdedthoughtfully,“thatIreallytrusther.”
“Youmeanthatshewouldnotletyouhavewhatyouwanted?”
“ImeanthatshewouldcertainlyhavewhatshewantedherselfandthatthoughsheisattractedbytheideasIhavesetout,shewouldsuddenlydemandsomethingquitedifferent.Somethingutilitarian,expensiveandshowy,perhaps.Shewouldbullyme,Ithink.Shewouldinsistonherideasbeingcarriedout.Iwouldnotagree,andweshouldquarrel.SoonthewholeitisbetterIleaveherebeforeIquarrel.AndnotonlywithMrs.Drakebutmanyotherneighbours.Iamquitewell-known.Idon’tneedtostayinonespot.IcouldgoandfindsomeothercornerofEngland,oritcouldbesomecornerofNormandyorBrittany.”
“Somewherewhereyoucanimprove,orhelp,nature?Somewherewhereyoucanexperimentoryoucanputstrangethingswheretheyhavenevergrownbefore,whereneithersunwillblisternorfrostdestroy?SomegoodstretchofbarrenlandwhereyoucanhavethefunofplayingatbeingAdamalloveragain?Haveyoualwaysbeenrestless?”
“Ineverstayedanywhereverylong.”
“YouhavebeentoGreece?”
“Yes.IshouldliketogotoGreeceagain.Yes,youhavesomethingthere.AgardenonaGreekhillside.Theremaybecypressesthere,notmuchelse.Abarrenrock.Butifyouwished,whatcouldtherenotbe?”
“Agardenforgodstowalk—”
“Yes.You’requiteamindreader,aren’tyou,Mr.Poirot?”
“IwishIwere.TherearesomanythingsIwouldliketoknowanddonotknow.”
“Youaretalkingnowofsomethingquiteprosaic,areyounot?”
“Unfortunatelyso.”
“Arson,murderandsuddendeath?”
“Moreorless.IdonotknowthatIwasconsideringarson.Tellme,Mr.Garfield,youhavebeenheresomeconsiderabletime,didyouknowayoungmancalledLesleyFerrier?”
“Yes,Irememberhim.HewasinaMedchestersolicitor’soffice,wasn’the?Fullerton,HarrisonandLeadbetter.Juniorclerk,somethingofthatkind.Good-lookingchap.”
“Hecametoasuddenend,didhenot?”
“Yes.Gothimselfknifedoneevening.Womantrouble,Igather.Everyoneseemstothinkthatthepoliceknowquitewellwhodidit,buttheycan’tgettheevidencetheywant.HewasmoreorlesstiedupwithawomancalledSandra—can’trememberhernameforthemoment—SandraSomebody,yes.Herhusbandkeptthelocalpub.SheandyoungLesleywererunninganaffair,andthenLesleytookupwithanothergirl.Orthatwasthestory.”
“AndSandradidnotlikeit?”
“No,shedidnotlikeitatall.Mindyou,hewasagreatoneforthegirls.Thereweretwoorthreethathewentaroundwith.”
“WeretheyallEnglishgirls?”
“Whydoyouaskthat,Iwonder?No,Idon’tthinkheconfinedhimselftoEnglishgirls,solongastheycouldspeakenoughEnglishtounderstandmoreorlesswhathesaidtothem,andhecouldunderstandwhattheysaidtohim.”
“Therearedoubtlessfromtimetotimeforeigngirlsinthisneighbourhood?”
“Ofcoursethereare.Isthereanyneighbourhoodwheretherearen’t?Aupairgirls—they’reapartofdailylife.Uglyones,prettyones,honestones,dishonestones,onesthatdosomegoodtodistractedmothersandsomewhoarenouseatallandsomewhowalkoutofthehouse.”
“LikethegirlOlgadid?”
“Asyousay,likethegirlOlgadid.”
“WasLesleyafriendofOlga’s?”
“Oh,that’sthewayyourmindisrunning.Yes,hewas.Idon’tthinkMrs.Llewellyn-Smytheknewmuchaboutit.Olgawasrathercareful,Ithink.Shespokegravelyofsomeoneshehopedtomarrysomedayinherowncountry.Idon’tknowwhetherthatwastrueorwhethershemadeitup.YoungLesleywasanattractiveyoungman,asIsaid.Idon’tknowwhathesawinOlga—shewasn’tverybeautiful.Still—”heconsideredaminuteortwo“—shehadakindofintensityabouther.AyoungEnglishmanmighthavefoundthatattractive,Ithink.Anyway,Lesleydidallright,andhisothergirlfriendsweren’tpleased.”
“Thatisveryinteresting,”saidPoirot.“IthoughtyoumightgivemeinformationthatIwanted.”
MichaelGarfieldlookedathimcuriously.
“Why?What’sitallabout?WheredoesLesleycomein?Whythisrakingupofthepast?”
“Well,therearethingsonewantstoknow.Onewantstoknowhowthingscomeintobeing.Iamevenlookingfartherbackstill.Beforethetimethatthosetwo,OlgaSeminoffandLesleyFerrier,metsecretlywithoutMrs.Llewellyn-Smytheknowingaboutit.”
“Well,I’mnotsureaboutthat.That’sonlymy—well,it’sonlymyidea.IdidcomeacrossthemfairlyfrequentlybutOlganeverconfidedinme.AsforLesleyFerrier,Ihardlyknewhim.”
“Iwanttogobackbehindthat.Hehad,Igather,certaindisadvantagesinhispast.”
“Ibelieveso.Yes,well,anywayit’sbeensaidherelocally.Mr.Fullertontookhimonandhopedtomakeanhonestmanofhim.He’sagoodchap,oldFullerton.”
“Hisoffencehadbeen,Ibelieve,forgery?”
“Yes.”
“Itwasafirstoffence,andthereweresaidtobeextenuatingcircumstances.Hehadasickmotherordrunkenfatherorsomethingofthatkind.Anyway,hegotofflightly.”
“Ineverheardanyofthedetails.Itwassomethingthatheseemedtohavegotawaywithtobeginwith,thenaccountantscamealongandfoundhimout.I’mveryvague.It’sonlyhearsay.Forgery.Yes,thatwasthecharge.Forgery.”
“AndwhenMrs.Llewellyn-SmythediedandherWillwastobeadmittedtoprobate,itwasfoundtheWillwasforged.”
“Yes,Iseethewayyourmind’sworking.You’refittingthosetwothingsashavingaconnectionwitheachother.”
“Amanwhowasuptoapointsuccessfulinforging.Amanwhobecamefriendswiththegirl,agirlwho,ifaWillhadbeenacceptedwhensubmittedtoprobate,wouldhaveinheritedthelargerpartofavastfortune.”
“Yes,yes,that’sthewayitgoes.”
“Andthisgirlandthemanwhohadcommittedforgeryweregreatfriends.Hehadgivenuphisowngirlandhe’dtiedupwiththeforeigngirlinstead.”
“Whatyou’resuggestingisthatthatforgedWillwasforgedbyLesleyFerrier.”
“Thereseemsalikelihoodofit,doestherenot?”
“OlgawassupposedtohavebeenabletocopyMrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’shandwritingfairlywell,butitseemedtomealwaysthatthatwasratheradoubtfulpoint.ShewrotehandwrittenlettersforMrs.Llewellyn-SmythebutIdon’tsupposethattheywerereallyparticularlysimilar.Notenoughtopassmuster.ButifsheandLesleywereinittogether,that’sdifferent.Idaresayhecouldpassoffagoodenoughjobandhewasprobablyquitecocksurethatitwouldgothrough.Butthenhemusthavebeensureofthatwhenhecommittedhisoriginaloffence,andhewaswrongthere,andIsupposehewaswrongthistime.Isupposethatwhentheballoonwentup,whenthelawyersbeganmakingtroubleanddifficulties,andexpertswerecalledintoexaminethingsandstartedaskingquestions,itcouldbethatshelosthernerve,andhadarowwithLesley.Andthensheclearedout,hopinghe’dcarrythecan.”
Hegavehisheadasharpshake.“Whydoyoucomeandtalktomeaboutthingslikethathere,inmybeautifulwood?”
“Iwantedtoknow.”
“It’sbetternottoknow.It’sbetternevertoknow.Bettertoleavethingsastheyare.Notpushandpryandpoke.”
“Youwantbeauty,”saidHerculePoirot.“Beautyatanyprice.Forme,itistruthIwant.Alwaystruth.”
MichaelGarfieldlaughed.“Goonhometoyourpolicefriendsandleavemehereinmylocalparadise.Gettheebeyondme,Satan.”
Twenty-one
Poirotwentonupthehill.Suddenlyhenolongerfeltthepainofhisfeet.Somethinghadcometohim.Thefittingtogetherofthethingshehadthoughtandfelt,hadknowntheywereconnected,buthadnotseenhowtheywereconnected.Hewasconsciousnowofdanger—dangerthatmightcometosomeoneanyminutenowunlessstepsweretakentopreventit.Seriousdanger.
ElspethMcKaycameouttothedoortomeethim.“Youlookfaggedout,”shesaid.“Comeandsitdown.”
“Yourbrotherishere?”
“No.He’sgonedowntothestation.Something’shappened,Ibelieve.”
“Somethinghashappened?”Hewasstartled.“Sosoon?Notpossible.”
“Eh?”saidElspeth.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Nothing.Nothing.Somethinghashappenedtosomebody,doyoumean?”
“Yes,butIdon’tknowwhoexactly.Anyway,TimRaglanrangupandaskedforhimtogodownthere.I’llgetyouacupoftea,shallI?”
“No,”saidPoirot,“thankyouverymuch,butIthink—IthinkIwillgohome.”Hecouldnotfacetheprospectofblackbittertea.Hethoughtofagoodexcusethatwouldmaskanysignsofbadmanners.“Myfeet,”heexplained.“Myfeet.Iamnotverysuitablyattiredastofootwearforthecountry.Achangeofshoeswouldbedesirable.”
ElspethMcKaylookeddownatthem.“No,”shesaid.“Icanseethey’renot.Patentleatherdrawsthefeet.There’saletterforyou,bytheway.Foreignstampsonit.Comefromabroad—c/oSuperintendentSpence,PineCrest.I’llbringittoyou.”
Shecamebackinaminuteortwo,andhandedittohim.
“Ifyoudon’twanttheenvelope,I’dlikeitforoneofmynephews—hecollectsstamps.”
“Ofcourse.”Poirotopenedtheletterandhandedhertheenvelope.Shethankedhimandwentbackintothehouse.
Poirotunfoldedthesheetandread.
Mr.Goby’sforeignservicewasrunwiththesamecompetencethatheshowedinhisEnglishone.Hesparednoexpenseandgothisresultsquickly.
True,theresultsdidnotamounttomuch—Poirothadnotthoughtthattheywould.
OlgaSeminoffhadnotreturnedtoherhometown.Shehadhadnofamilystillliving.Shehadhadafriend,anelderlywoman,withwhomshehadcorrespondedintermittently,givingnewsofherlifeinEngland.Shehadbeenongoodtermswithheremployerwhohadbeenoccasionallyexacting,buthadalsobeengenerous.
ThelastlettersreceivedfromOlgahadbeendatedaboutayearandahalfago.Inthemtherehadbeenmentionofayoungman.Therewerehintsthattheywereconsideringmarriage,buttheyoungman,whosenameshedidnotmention,had,shesaid,hiswaytomake,sonothingcouldbesettledasyet.Inherlastlettershespokehappilyoftheirprospectsbeinggood.Whennomoreletterscame,theelderlyfriendassumedthatOlgahadmarriedherEnglishmanandchangedheraddress.SuchthingshappenedfrequentlywhengirlswenttoEngland.Iftheywerehappilymarriedtheyoftenneverwroteagain.
Shehadnotworried.
Itfitted,Poirotthought.Lesleyhadspokenofmarriage,butmightnothavemeantit.Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythehadbeenspokenofas“generous.”Lesleyhadbeengivenmoneybysomeone,Olgaperhaps(moneyoriginallygivenherbyheremployers),toinducehimtodoforgeryonherbehalf.
ElspethMcKaycameoutontheterraceagain.PoirotconsultedherastohissurmisesaboutapartnershipbetweenOlgaandLesley.
Sheconsideredamoment.Thentheoraclespoke.
“Keptveryquietaboutit,ifso.Neveranyrumoursaboutthosetwo.Thereusuallyisinaplacelikethisifthere’sanythinginit.”
“YoungFerrierwastieduptoamarriedwoman.Hemighthavewarnedthegirlnottosayanythingabouthimtoheremployer.”
“Likelyenough.Mrs.SmythewouldprobablyknowthatLesleyFerrierwasabadcharacter,andwouldwarnthegirltohavenothingtodowithhim.”
Poirotfoldeduptheletterandputitintohispocket.
“Iwishyou’dletmegetyouapotoftea.”
“No,no—Imustgobacktomyguesthouseandchangemyshoes.Youdonotknowwhenyourbrotherwillbeback?”
“I’venoidea.Theydidn’tsaywhattheywantedhimfor.”
Poirotwalkedalongtheroadtohisguesthouse.Itwasonlyafewhundredyards.Ashewalkeduptothefrontdooritwasopenedandhislandlady,acheerfulladyofthirtyodd,cameouttohim.
“There’saladyheretoseeyou,”shesaid.“Beenwaitingsometime.ItoldherIdidn’tknowwhereyou’dgoneexactlyorwhenyou’dbeback,butshesaidshe’dwait.”Sheadded,“It’sMrs.Drake.She’sinastate,I’dsay.She’susuallysocalmabouteverything,butreallyIthinkshe’shadashockofsomekind.She’sinthesittingroom.ShallIbringyouinsometeaandsomething?”
“No,”saidPoirot,“Ithinkitwillbebetternot.Iwillhearfirstwhatshehastosay.”
Heopenedthedoorandwentintothesittingroom.RowenaDrakehadbeenstandingbythewindow.Itwasnotthewindowoverlookingthefrontpathsoshehadnotseenhisapproach.Sheturnedabruptlyassheheardthesoundofthedoor
“MonsieurPoirot.Atlast.Itseemedsolong.”
“Iamsorry,Madame.IhavebeenintheQuarryWoodandalsotalkingtomyfriend,Mrs.Oliver.AndthenIhavebeentalkingtotwoboys.ToNicholasandDesmond.”
“NicholasandDesmond?Yes,Iknow.Iwonder—oh!onethinksallsortsofthings.”
“Youareupset,”saidPoirotgently.
Itwasnotathinghethoughthewouldeversee.RowenaDrakeupset,nolongermistressofevents,nolongerarrangingeverything,andenforcingherdecisionsonothers.
“You’veheard,haven’tyou?”sheasked.“Ohwell,perhapsyouhaven’t.”
“WhatshouldIhaveheard?”
“Somethingdreadful.He’s—he’sdead.Somebodykilledhim.”
“Whoisdead,Madame?”
“Thenyouhaven’treallyheard.Andhe’sonlyachild,too,andIthought—oh,whatafoolI’vebeen.Ishouldhavetoldyou.Ishouldhavetoldyouwhenyouaskedme.Itmakesmefeelterrible—terriblyguiltyforthinkingIknewbestandthinking—butIdidmeanitforthebest,MonsieurPoirot,indeedIdid.”
“Sitdown,Madame,sitdown.Calmyourselfandtellme.Thereisachilddead—anotherchild?”
“Herbrother,”saidMrs.Drake.“Leopold.”
“LeopoldReynolds?”
“Yes.Theyfoundhisbodyononeofthefieldpaths.Hemusthavebeencomingbackfromschoolandgoneoutofhiswaytoplayinthebrooknearhere.Somebodyheldhimdowninthebrook—heldhisheadunderwater.”
“ThesamekindofthingastheydidtothechildJoyce?”
“Yes,yes.Icanseeitmustbe—itmustbemadnessofsomekind.Andonedoesn’tknowwho,that’swhat’ssoawful.Onehasn’ttheleastidea.AndIthoughtIknew.Ireallythought—Isuppose,yes,itwasaverywickedthing.”
“Youmusttellme,Madame.”
“Yes,Iwanttotellyou.Icameheretotellyou.Because,yousee,youcametomeafteryou’dtalkedtoElizabethWhittaker.Aftershe’dtoldyouthatsomethinghadstartledme.ThatI’dseensomething.Somethinginthehallofthehouse,myhouse.IsaidthatIhadn’tseenanythingandthatnothinghadstartledmebecause,yousee,Ithought—”shestopped.
“Whatdidyousee?”
“Ioughttohavetoldyouthen.Isawthedoorofthelibraryopen,openrathercarefullyand—thenhecameout.Atleast,hedidn’tcomerightout.Hejuststoodinthedoorwayandthenpulledthedoorbackquicklyandwentbackinside.”
“Whowasthis?”
“Leopold.Leopold,thechildthat’sbeenkillednow.Andyousee,IthoughtI—oh,whatamistake,whatanawfulmistake.IfI’dtoldyou,perhaps—perhapsyou’dhavegotatwhatwasbehindit.”
“Youthought?”Poirotsaid.“YouthoughtthatLeopoldhadkilledhissister.Isthatwhatyouthought?”
“Yes,that’swhatIthought.Notthen,ofcourse,becauseIdidn’tknowshewasdead.Buthehadaqueerlookonhisface.He’salwaysbeenaqueerchild.Inawayyou’realittleafraidofhimbecauseyoufeelhe’snot—notquiteright.VerycleverandahighI.Q.,butallthesamenotallthere.
“AndIthought‘WhyisLeopoldcomingoutofthereinsteadofbeingattheSnapdragon?’andIthought‘What’shebeendoing—helookssoqueer?’Andthen,wellthenIdidn’tthinkofitagainafterthat,butIsuppose,thewayhelookedupsetme.Andthat’swhyIdroppedthevase.Elizabethhelpedmetopickuptheglasspieces,andIwentbacktotheSnapdragonandIdidn’tthinkofitagain.UntilwefoundJoyce.Andthat’swhenIthought—”
“YouthoughtthatLeopoldhaddoneit?”
“Yes.Yes,Ididthinkthat.Ithoughtitexplainedthewayhe’dlooked.IthoughtIknew.Ialwaysthink—I’vethoughttoomuchallmylifethatIknowthings,thatI’mrightaboutthings.AndIcanbeverywrong.Because,yousee,hisbeingkilledmustmeansomethingquitedifferent.Hemusthavegoneinthere,andhemusthavefoundherthere—dead—anditgavehimaterribleshockandhewasfrightened.AndsohewantedtocomeoutoftheroomwithoutanyoneseeinghimandIsupposehelookedupandsawmeandhegotbackintotheroomandshutthedoorandwaiteduntilthehallwasemptybeforecomingout.Butnotbecausehe’dkilledher.No.Justtheshockoffindingherdead.”
“Andyetyousaidnothing?Youdidn’tmentionwhoitwasyou’dseen,evenafterthedeathwasdiscovered?”
“No.I—oh,Icouldn’t.He’s—yousee,he’ssoyoung—wassoyoung,IsupposeIoughttosaynow.Ten.Ten—elevenatmostandImean—Ifelthecouldn’thaveknownwhathewasdoing,itcouldn’thavebeenhisfaultexactly.Hemusthavebeenmorallynotresponsible.He’salwaysbeenratherqueer,andIthoughtonecouldgettreatmentforhim.Notleaveitalltothepolice.Notsendhimtoapprovedplaces.Ithoughtonecouldgetspecialpsychologicaltreatmentforhim,ifnecessary.I—Imeantwell.Youmustbelievethat,Imeantwell.”
Suchsadwords,Poirotthought,someofthesaddestwordsintheworld.Mrs.Drakeseemedtoknowwhathewasthinking.
“Yes,”shesaid,“‘Ididitforthebest.’‘Imeantwell.’Onealwaysthinksoneknowswhatisbesttodoforotherpeople,butonedoesn’t.Because,yousee,thereasonhelookedsotakenabackmusthavebeenthatheeithersawwhothemurdererwas,orsawsomethingthatwouldgiveacluetowhothemurderermightbe.Somethingthatmadethemurdererfeelthathehimselfwasn’tsafe.Andso—andsohe’swaiteduntilhegottheboyaloneandthendrownedhiminthebrooksothatheshouldn’tspeak,sothatheshouldn’ttell.IfI’donlyspokenout,ifI’dtoldyou,ortoldthepolice,ortoldsomeone,butIthoughtIknewbest.”
“Onlytoday,”saidPoirot,afterhehadsatsilentforamomentortwo,watchingMrs.Drakewhereshesatcontrollinghersobs,“IwastoldthatLeopoldhadbeenveryflushofmoneylately.Somebodymusthavebeenpayinghimtokeepsilent.”
“Butwho—who?”
“Weshallfindout,”saidPoirot.“Itwillnotbelongnow.”
Twenty-two
ItwasnotverycharacteristicofHerculePoirottoasktheopinionsofothers.Hewasusuallyquitesatisfiedwithhisownopinions.Nevertheless,thereweretimeswhenhemadeexceptions.Thiswasoneofthem.HeandSpencehadhadabriefconversationtogetherandthenPoirothadgotintouchwithacarhireserviceandafteranothershortconversationwithhisfriendandwithInspectorRaglan,hedroveoff.HehadarrangedwiththecartodrivehimbacktoLondonbuthehadmadeonehaltonthewaythere.HedrovetoTheElms.Hetoldthedriverofthecarthathewouldnotbelong—aquarterofanhouratmost—andthenhesoughtaudiencewithMissEmlyn.
“Iamsorrytodisturbyouatthishour.Itisnodoubtthehourofyoursupperordinner.”
“Well,Idoyouatleastthecompliment,MonsieurPoirot,tothinkyouwouldnotdisturbmeateithersupperordinnerunlessyouhaveavalidreasonforsodoing.”
“Youareverykind.Tobefrank,Iwantyouradvice.”
“Indeed?”
MissEmlynlookedslightlysurprised.Shelookedmorethansurprised,shelookedsceptical.
“Thatdoesnotseemverycharacteristicofyou,MonsieurPoirot.Areyounotusuallysatisfiedwithyourownopinions?”
“Yes,Iamsatisfiedwithmyownopinions,butitwouldgivemesolaceandsupportifsomeonewhoseopinionIrespectedagreedwiththem.”
Shedidnotspeak,merelylookedathiminquiringly.
“IknowthekillerofJoyceReynolds,”hesaid.“Itismybeliefthatyouknowitalso.”
“Ihavenotsaidso,”saidMissEmlyn
“No.Youhavenotsaidso.Andthatmightleadmetobelievethatitisonyourpartanopiniononly.”
“Ahunch?”inquiredMissEmlyn,andhertonewascolderthanever.
“Iwouldprefernottousethatword.Iwouldprefertosaythatyouhadadefiniteopinion.”
“Verywellthen.IwilladmitthatIhaveadefiniteopinion.ThatdoesnotmeanthatIshallrepeattoyouwhatmyopinionis.”
“WhatIshouldliketodo,Mademoiselle,istowritedownfourwordsonapieceofpaper.IwillaskyouifyouagreewiththefourwordsIhavewritten.”
MissEmlynrose.Shecrossedtheroomtoherdesk,tookapieceofwritingpaperandcameacrosstoPoirotwithit.
“Youinterestme,”shesaid.“Fourwords.”
Poirothadtakenapenfromhispocket.Hewroteonthepaper,foldeditandhandedittoher.Shetookit,straightenedoutthepaperandhelditinherhand,lookingatit.
“Well?”saidPoirot.
“Astotwoofthewordsonthatpaper,Iagree,yes.Theothertwo,thatismoredifficult.Ihavenoevidenceand,indeed,theideashadnotenteredmyhead.”
“Butinthecaseofthefirsttwowords,youhavedefiniteevidence?”
“Iconsiderso,yes.”
“Water,”saidPoirot,thoughtfully.“Assoonasyouheardthat,youknew.AssoonasIheardthatIknew.Youaresure,andIamsure.Andnow,”saidPoirot,“aboyhasbeendrownedinabrook.Youhaveheardthat?”
“Yes.Someonerangmeuponthetelephoneandtoldme.Joyce’sbrother.Howwasheconcerned?”
“Hewantedmoney,”saidPoirot.“Hegotit.Andso,atasuitableopportunity,hewasdrownedinabrook.”
Hisvoicedidnotchange.Ithad,ifanything,notasoftened,butaharshernote,
“Thepersonwhotoldme,”hesaid,“wasriddledwithcompassion.Upsetemotionally.ButIamnotlikethat.Hewasyoung,thissecondchildwhodied,buthisdeathwasnotanaccident.Itwas,assomanythingsinlife,aresultofhisactions.Hewantedmoneyandhetookarisk.Hewascleverenough,astuteenoughtoknowhewastakingarisk,buthewantedthemoney.Hewastenyearsoldbutcauseandeffectismuchthesameatthatageasitwouldbeatthirtyorfiftyorninety.DoyouknowwhatIthinkoffirstinsuchacase?”
“Ishouldsay,”saidMissEmlyn,“thatyouaremoreconcernedwithjusticethanwithcompassion.”
“Compassion,”saidPoirot,“onmypartwoulddonothingtohelpLeopold.Heisbeyondhelp.Justice,ifweobtainjustice,youandI,forIthinkyouareofmywayofthinkingoverthis—justice,onecouldsay,willalsonothelpLeopold.ButitmighthelpsomeotherLeopold,itmighthelptokeepsomeotherchildalive,ifwecanreachjusticesoonenough.Itisnotasafething,akillerwhohaskilledmorethanonce,towhomkillinghasappealedasawayofsecurity.IamnowonmywaytoLondonwhereIammeetingwithcertainpeopletodiscussawayofapproach.Toconvertthem,perhaps,tomyowncertaintyinthiscase.”
“Youmayfindthatdifficult,”saidMissEmlyn.
“No,Idonotthinkso.ThewaysandmeanstoitmaybedifficultbutIthinkIcanconvertthemtomyknowledgeofwhathashappened.Becausetheyhavemindsthatunderstandthecriminalmind.ThereisonethingmoreIwouldaskyou.Iwantyouropinion.Youropiniononlythistime,notevidence.YouropinionofthecharacterofNicholasRansomandDesmondHolland.Wouldyouadvisemetotrustthem?”
“Ishouldsaythatbothofthemwerethoroughlytrustworthy.Thatismyopinion.Theyareinmanywaysextremelyfoolish,butthatisonlyintheephemeralthingsoflife.Fundamentally,theyaresound.Soundasanapplewithoutmaggotsinit.”
“Onealwayscomesbacktoapples,”saidHerculePoirotsadly.“Imustgonow.Mycariswaiting.Ihaveonemorecallstilltopay.”
Twenty-three
I
“Haveyouheardwhat’sonatQuarryWood?”saidMrs.Cartwright,puttingapacketofFluffyFlakeletsandWonderWhiteintohershoppingbag.
“QuarryWood?”saidElspethMcKay,towhomshewastalking.“No,Ihaven’theardanythingparticular.”Sheselectedapacketofcereal.Thetwowomenwereintherecentlyopenedsupermarketmakingtheirmorningpurchases.
“They’resayingthetreesaredangerousthere.Coupleofforestrymenarrivedthismorning.It’sthereonthesideofthehillwherethere’sasteepslopeandatreeleaningsideways.CouldbeIsuppose,thatatreecouldcomedownthere.Oneofthemwasstruckbylightninglastwinterbutthatwasfartherover,Ithink.Anyway,they’rediggingroundtherootsofthetreesabit,andabitfartherdowntoo.Pity.They’llmakeanawfulmessoftheplace.”
“Ohwell,”saidElspethMcKay,“Isupposetheyknowwhatthey’redoing.Somebody’scalledthemin,Isuppose.”
“They’vegotacoupleofthepolicethere,too,seeingthatpeopledon’tcomenear.Makingsuretheykeepawayfromthings.Theysaysomethingaboutfindingoutwhichthediseasedtreesarefirst.”
“Isee,”saidElspethMcKay.
Possiblyshedid.NotthatanyonehadtoldherbutthenElspethneverneededtelling.
II
AriadneOliversmoothedoutatelegramshehadjusttakenasdeliveredtoheratthedoor.Shewassousedtogettingtelegramsthroughthetelephone,makingfrenziedhuntsforapenciltotakethemdown,insistingfirmlythatshewantedaconfirmatorycopysenttoher,thatshewasquitestartledtoreceivewhatshecalledtoherselfa“realtelegram”again.
“PLEASEBRINGMRSBUTLERANDMIRANDATOYOURFLATATONCE.NOTIMETOLOSEIMPORTANTSEEDOCTORFOROPERATION.”
ShewentintothekitchenwhereJudithButlerwasmakingquincejelly.
“Judy,”saidMrs.Oliver,“goandpackafewthings,I’mgoingbacktoLondonandyou’recomingwithmeandMiranda,too.”
“It’sveryniceofyou,Ariadne,butI’vegotalotofthingsonhere.Anyway,youneedn’trushawaytoday,needyou?”
“Yes,Ineedto,I’vebeentoldto,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Who’stoldyou—yourhousekeeper?”
“No,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Somebodyelse.OneofthefewpeopleIobey.Comeon.Hurryup.”
“Idon’twanttoleavehomejustnow.Ican’t.”
“You’vegottocome,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Thecarisready.Ibroughtitroundtothefrontdoor.Wecangoatonce.”
“Idon’tthinkIwanttotakeMiranda.Icouldleaveherherewithsomeone,withtheReynoldsorRowenaDrake.”
“Miranda’scoming,too,”Mrs.Oliverinterrupteddefinitely.“Don’tmakedifficulties,Judy.Thisisserious.Idon’tseehowyoucanevenconsiderleavingherwiththeReynolds.TwooftheReynoldschildrenhavebeenkilled,haven’tthey?”
“Yes,yes,that’strueenough.Youthinkthere’ssomethingwrongwiththathouse.Imeanthere’ssomeonetherewho—oh,whatdoImean?”
“We’retalkingtoomuch,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Anyway,”sheadded,“ifanyoneisgoingtobekilled,itseemstomethatprobablythemostlikelyonewouldbeAnnReynolds.”
“What’sthematterwiththefamily?Whyshouldtheyallgetkilled,oneafteranother?Oh,Ariadne,it’sfrightening!”
“Yes,”saidMrs.Oliver,“buttherearetimeswhenit’squiterighttobefrightened.I’vejusthadatelegramandI’mactinguponit.”
“Oh,Ididn’thearthetelephone.”
“Itdidn’tcomethroughthetelephone.Itcametothedoor.”
Shehesitatedamoment,thenshehelditouttoherfriend.
“What’sthismean?Operation?”
“Tonsils,probably,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Mirandahadabadthroatlastweek,hadn’tshe?Well,whatmorelikelythanthatsheshouldbetakentoconsultathroatspecialistinLondon?”
“Areyouquitemad,Ariadne?”
“Probably,”saidMrs.Oliver,“ravingmad.Comeon.MirandawillenjoybeinginLondon.Youneedn’tworry.She’snotgoingtohaveanyoperation.That’swhat’scalled‘cover’inspystories.We’lltakehertoatheatre,oranoperaortheballet,whicheverwayhertasteslie.OnthewholeIthinkitwouldbebesttotakehertotheballet.”
“I’mfrightened,”saidJudith.
AriadneOliverlookedatherfriend.Shewastremblingslightly.Shelookedmorethanever,Mrs.Oliverthought,likeUndine.Shelookeddivorcedfromreality.
“Comeon,”saidMrs.Oliver,“IpromisedHerculePoirotI’dbringyouwhenhegavemetheword.Well,he’sgivenmetheword.”
“What’sgoingoninthisplace?”saidJudith.“Ican’tthinkwhyIevercamehere.”
“Isometimeswonderedwhyyoudid,”saidMrs.Oliver,“butthere’snoaccountingforwherepeoplegotolive.AfriendofminewenttoliveinMoreton-in-the-Marshtheotherday.Iaskedhimwhyhewantedtogoandlivethere.Hesaidhe’dalwayswantedtoandthoughtaboutit.Wheneverheretiredhemeanttogothere.IsaidthatIhadn’tbeentoitmyselfbutitsoundedtomeboundtobedamp.Whatwasitactuallylike?Hesaidhedidn’tknowwhatitwaslikebecausehe’dneverbeentherehimself.Buthehadalwayswantedtolivethere.Hewasquitesane,too.”
“Didhego?”
“Yes.”
“Didhelikeitwhenhegotthere?”
“Well,Ihaven’theardthatyet,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Butpeopleareveryodd,aren’tthey?Thethingstheywanttodo,thethingstheysimplyhavetodo…”Shewenttothegardenandcalled,“Miranda,we’regoingtoLondon.”
Mirandacameslowlytowardsthem.
“GoingtoLondon?”
“Ariadne’sgoingtodriveusthere,”saidhermother.“We’llgoandseeatheatrethere.Mrs.Oliverthinksperhapsshecangetticketsfortheballet.Wouldyouliketogototheballet?”
“I’dloveit,”saidMiranda.Hereyeslightedup.“Imustgoandsaygoodbyetooneofmyfriendsfirst.”
“We’regoingpracticallyatonce.”
“Oh,Ishan’tbeaslongasthat,butImustexplain.TherearethingsIpromisedtodo.”
Sherandownthegardenanddisappearedthroughthegate.
“WhoareMiranda’sfriends?”askedMrs.Oliver,withsomecuriosity.”
“Ineverreallyknow,”saidJudith.“Shenevertellsonethings,youknow.SometimesIthinkthattheonlythingsthatshereallyfeelsareherfriendsarethebirdsshelooksatinthewoods.Orsquirrelsorthingslikethat.IthinkeverybodylikesherbutIdon’tknowthatshehasanyparticularfriends.Imean,shedoesn’tbringbackgirlstoteaandthingslikethat.Notasmuchasothergirlsdo.IthinkherbestfriendreallywasJoyceReynolds.”Sheaddedvaguely:“Joyceusedtotellherfantasticthingsaboutelephantsandtigers.”Sherousedherself.“Well,Imustgoupandpack,Isuppose,asyouinsist.ButIdon’twanttoleavehere.TherearelotsofthingsI’minthemiddleofdoing,likethisjellyand—”
“You’vegottocome,”saidMrs.Oliver.Shewasquitefirmaboutit.
JudithcamedownstairsagainwithacoupleofsuitcasesjustasMirandaraninthroughthesidedoor,somewhatoutofbreath.
“Aren’twegoingtohavelunchfirst?”shedemanded.
Inspiteofherelfinwoodlandappearance,shewasahealthychildwholikedherfood.
“We’llstopforlunchontheway,”saidMrs.Oliver.“We’llstopatTheBlackBoyatHaversham.Thatwouldbeaboutright.It’saboutthree-quartersofanhourfromhereandtheygiveyouquiteagoodmeal.Comeon,Miranda,we’regoingtostartnow.”
“Ishan’thavetimetotellCathieIcan’tgotothepictureswithhertomorrow.Oh,perhapsIcouldringherup.”
“Well,hurryup,”saidhermother.
Mirandaranintothesittingroomwherethetelephonewassituated.JudithandMrs.Oliverputsuitcasesintothecar.Mirandacameoutofthesittingroom.
“Ileftamessage,”shesaidbreathlessly.“That’sallrightnow.”
“Ithinkyou’remad,Ariadne,”saidJudith,astheygotintothecar.“Quitemad.What’sitallabout?”
“Weshallknowinduecourse,Isuppose,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Idon’tknowifI’mmadorheis.”
“He?Who?”
“HerculePoirot,”saidMrs.Oliver.
III
InLondonHerculePoirotwassittinginaroomwithfourothermen.OnewasInspectorTimothyRaglan,lookingrespectfulandpoker-facedaswashisinvariablehabitwheninthepresenceofhissuperiors;thesecondwasSuperintendentSpence.ThethirdwasAlfredRichmond,ChiefConstableoftheCountyandthefourthwasamanwithasharp,legalfacefromthePublicProsecutor’soffice.TheylookedatHerculePoirotwithvaryingexpressions,orwhatonemightdescribeasnonexpressions.
“Youseemquitesure,MonsieurPoirot.”
“Iamquitesure,”saidHerculePoirot.“Whenathingarrangesitselfso,onerealizesthatitmustbeso,oneonlylooksforreasonswhyitshouldnotbeso.Ifonedoesnotfindthereasonswhyitshouldnotbeso,thenoneisstrengthenedinone’sopinion.”
“Themotivesseemsomewhatcomplex,ifImaysayso.”
“No,”saidPoirot,“notcomplexreally.Butsosimplethattheyareverydifficulttoseeclearly.”
Thelegalgentlemanlookedsceptical.
“Weshallhaveonepieceofdefiniteevidenceverysoonnow,”saidInspectorRaglan.“Ofcourse,iftherehasbeenamistakeonthatpoint….”
“Dingdongdell,nopussyinthewell?”saidHerculePoirot.“Thatiswhatyoumean?”
“Well,youmustagreeitisonlyasurmiseonyourpart.”
“Theevidencepointedtoitallalong.Whenagirldisappears,therearenotmanyreasons.Thefirstisthatshehasgoneawaywithaman.Thesecondisthatsheisdead.Anythingelseisveryfar-fetchedandpracticallyneverhappens.”
“Therearenospecialpointsthatyoucanbringtoourattention,MonsieurPoirot?”
“Yes.Ihavebeenintouchwithawell-knownfirmofestateagents.Friendsofmine,whospecializeinrealestateintheWestIndies,theAegean,theAdriatic,theMediterraneanandotherplaces.Theyspecializeinsunshineandtheirclientsareusuallywealthy.Hereisarecentpurchasethatmightinterestyou.”
Hehandedoverafoldedpaper.
“Youthinkthistiesup?”
“I’msureitdoes.”
“Ithoughtthesaleofislandswasprohibitedbythatparticulargovernment?”
“Moneycanusuallyfindaway.”
“Thereisnothingelsethatyouwouldcaretodwellupon?”
“Itispossiblethatwithintwenty-fourhoursIshallhaveforyousomethingthatwillmoreorlessclinchmatters.”
“Andwhatisthat?”
“Aneyewitness.”
“Youmean—”
“Aneyewitnesstoacrime.”
ThelegalmanlookedatPoirotwithmountingdisbelief.
“Whereisthiseyewitnessnow?”
“OnthewaytoLondon,Ihopeandtrust.”
“Yousound—disturbed.”
“Thatistrue.IhavedonewhatIcantotakecareofthings,butIwilladmittoyouthatIamfrightened.Yes,IamfrightenedinspiteoftheprotectivemeasureIhavetaken.Because,yousee,weare—howshallIdescribeit?—weareupagainstruthlessness,quickreactions,greedpushedbeyondanexpectablehumanlimitandperhaps—IamnotsurebutIthinkitpossible—atouch,shallwesay,ofmadness?Notthereoriginally,butcultivated.Aseedthattookrootandgrowsfast.Andnowperhapshastakencharge,inspiringaninhumanratherthanahumanattitudetolife.”
“We’llhavetohaveafewextraopinionsonthis,”saidthelegalman.“Wecan’trushintothings.Ofcourse,alotdependsonthe—er—forestrybusiness.Ifthat’spositive,we’dhavetothinkagain.”
HerculePoirotrosetohisfeet.
“Iwilltakemyleave.IhavetoldyouallthatIknowandallthatIfearandenvisageaspossible.Ishallremainintouchwithyou.”
Heshookhandsallroundwithforeignprecision,andwentout.
“Theman’sabitofamountebank,”saidthelegalman.“Youdon’tthinkhe’sabittouched,doyou?Touchedintheheadhimself,Imean?Anyway,he’saprettygoodage.Idon’tknowthatonecanrelyonthefacultiesofamanofthatage.”
“Ithinkyoucanrelyuponhim,”saidtheChiefConstable.“Atleast,thatismyimpression.Spence,I’veknownyouagoodmanyyears.You’reafriendofhis.Doyouthinkhe’sbecomealittlesenile?”
“No,Idon’t,”saidSuperintendentSpence.“What’syouropinion,Raglan?”
“I’veonlymethimrecently,sir.AtfirstIthoughthis—well,hiswayoftalking,hisideas,mightbefantastic.ButonthewholeI’mconverted.Ithinkhe’sgoingtobeprovedright.”
Twenty-four
I
Mrs.OliverhadensconcedherselfatatableinthewindowofTheBlackBoy.Itwasstillfairlyearly,sothediningroomwasnotveryfull.Presently,JudithButlerreturnedfrompowderinghernoseandsatdownoppositeherandexaminedthemenu.
“WhatdoesMirandalike?”askedMrs.Oliver.“Wemightaswellorderforheraswell.Isupposeshe’llbebackinaminute.”
“Shelikesroastchicken.”
“Well,that’seasythen.Whataboutyou?”
“I’llhavethesame.”
“Threeroastchickens,”Mrs.Oliverordered.
Sheleanedback,studyingherfriend.
“Whyareyoustaringatmeinthatway?”
“Iwasthinking,”saidMrs.Oliver.
“Thinkingwhat?”
“ThinkingreallyhowverylittleIknewaboutyou.”
“Well,that’sthesamewitheverybody,isn’tit?”
“Youmean,oneneverknowsallaboutanyone.”
“Ishouldn’tthinkso.”
“Perhapsyou’reright,”saidMrs.Oliver.
Bothwomenweresilentforsometime.
“They’reratherslowservingthingshere.”
“It’scomingnow,Ithink,”saidMrs.Oliver.
Awaitressarrivedwithatrayfullofdishes.
“Miranda’salongtime.Doessheknowwherethediningroomis?”
“Yes,ofcourseshedoes.Welookedinontheway.”Judithgotupimpatiently.“I’llhavetogoandfetchher.”
“Iwonderifperhapsshegetscarsick.”
“Sheusedtowhenshewasyounger.”
Shereturnedsomefourorfiveminuteslater.
“She’snotintheLadies’,”shesaid.“There’sadooroutsideitintothegarden.Perhapsshewentoutthatwaytolookatabirdorsomething.She’slikethat.”
“Notimetolookatbirdstoday,”saidMrs.Oliver.“Goandcallherorsomething.Wewanttogeton.”
II
ElspethMcKayprickedsomesausageswithafork,laidthemonabakingdish,putitintheFrigidairandstartedtopeelpotatoes.
Thetelephonerang.
“Mrs.McKay?SergeantGoodwinhere.Isyourbrotherthere?”
“No.He’sinLondontoday.”
“I’verunghimthere—he’sleft.Whenhegetsback,tellhimwe’vehadapositiveresult.”
“Youmeanyou’vefoundabodyinthewell?”
“Notmuchuseclammingupaboutit.Theword’sgotaroundalready.”
“Whoisit?Theaupairgirl?”
“Seemslikeit.”
“Poorgirl,”saidElspeth.“Didshethrowherselfin—orwhat?”
“Itwasn’tsuicide—shewasknifed.Itwasmurderallright.”
III
AfterhermotherhadlefttheLadies’Room,Mirandawaitedforaminuteortwo.Thensheopenedthedoor,cautiouslypeeredout,openedthesidedoortothegardenwhichwascloseathandandrandownthegardenpaththatledroundtothebackyardofwhathadoncebeenacoachinginnandwasnowagarage.Shewentoutatasmalldoorthatenabledpedestrianstogetintoalaneoutside.Alittlefartherdownthelaneacarwasparked.Amanwithbeetlinggreyeyebrowsandagreybeardwassittinginitreadinganewspaper.Mirandaopenedthedoorandclimbedinbesidethedrivingseat.Shelaughed.
“Youdolookfunny.”
“Haveaheartylaugh,there’snothingtostopyou.”
Thecarstarted,wentdownthelane,turnedright,turnedleft,turnedrightagainandcameoutonasecondaryroad.
“We’reallrightfortime,”saidthegrey-beardedman.“Attherightmomentyou’llseethedoubleaxeasitoughttobeseen.AndKilterburyDown,too.Wonderfulview.”
Acardashedpastthemsocloselythattheywerealmostforcedintothehedge.
“Youngidiots,”saidthegrey-beardedman.
Oneoftheyoungmenhadlonghairreachingoverhisshouldersandlarge,owlishspectacles.TheotheroneaffectedamoreSpanishappearancewithsideburns
“Youdon’tthinkMummywillworryaboutme?”askedMiranda.
“Shewon’thavetimetoworryaboutyou.Bythetimesheworriesaboutyou,you’llhavegotwhereyouwanttobe.”
IV
InLondon,HerculePoirotpickedupthetelephone.Mrs.Oliver’svoicecameover.
“We’velostMiranda.”
“Whatdoyoumean,losther?”
“WehadlunchatTheBlackBoy.Shewenttotheloo.Shedidn’tcomeback.Somebodysaidtheysawherdrivingawaywithanelderlyman.Butitmightn’thavebeenher.Itmighthavebeensomeoneelse.It—”
“Someoneshouldhavestayedwithher.Neitherofyououghttohaveletheroutofyoursight.Itoldyoutherewasdanger.IsMrs.Butlerveryworried?”
“Ofcourseshe’sworried.Whatdoyouthink?She’sfrantic.Sheinsistsonringingthepolice.”
“Yes,thatwouldbethenaturalthingtodo.Iwillringthemalso.”
“ButwhyshouldMirandabeindanger?”
“Don’tyouknow?Yououghttobynow.”Headded,“Thebody’sbeenfound.I’vejustheard—”
“Whatbody?”
“Abodyinawell.”
Twenty-five
“It’sbeautiful,”saidMiranda,lookingroundher.
KilterburyRingwasalocalbeautyspotthoughitsremainswerenotparticularlyfamous.Theyhadbeendismantledmanyhundredsofyearsago.Yethereandthereatallmegalithicstonestillstood,upright,tellingofalongpastritualworship.Mirandaaskedquestions.
“Whydidtheyhaveallthesestoneshere?”
“Forritual.Ritualworship.Ritualsacrifice.Youunderstandaboutsacrifice,don’tyou,Miranda?”
“Ithinkso.”
“Ithastobe,yousee.It’simportant.”
“Youmean,it’snotasortofpunishment?It’ssomethingelse?”
“Yes,it’ssomethingelse.Youdiesothatothersshouldlive.Youdiesothatbeautyshouldlive.Shouldcomeintobeing.That’stheimportantthing.”
“Ithoughtperhaps—”
“Yes,Miranda?”
“Ithoughtperhapsyououghttodiebecausewhatyou’vedonehaskilledsomeoneelse.”
“Whatputthatintoyourhead?”
“IwasthinkingofJoyce.IfIhadn’ttoldheraboutsomething,shewouldn’thavedied,wouldshe?”
“Perhapsnot.”
“I’vefeltworriedsinceJoycedied.Ineedn’thavetoldher,needI?ItoldherbecauseIwantedtohavesomethingworthwhiletellingher.She’dbeentoIndiaandshekepttalkingaboutit—aboutthetigersandabouttheelephantsandtheirgoldhangingsanddecorationsandtheirtrappings.AndIthink,too—suddenlyIwantedsomebodyelsetoknow,becauseyouseeIhadn’treallythoughtaboutitbefore.”Sheadded:“Was—wasthatasacrifice,too?”
“Inaway.”
Mirandaremainedcontemplative,thenshesaid,“Isn’tittimeyet?”
“Thesunisnotquiterightyet.Anotherfiveminutes,perhaps,andthenitwillfalldirectlyonthestone.”
Againtheysatsilent,besidethecar.
“Now,Ithink,”saidMiranda’scompanion,lookingupattheskywherethesunwasdippingtowardsthehorizon.“Nowisawonderfulmoment.Noonehere.NobodycomesupatthistimeofdayandwalksuptothetopofKilterburyDowntoseeKilterburyRing.ToocoldinNovemberandtheblackberriesareover.I’llshowyouthedoubleaxefirst.Thedoubleaxeonthestone.CarvedtherewhentheycamefromMycenaeorfromCretehundredsofyearsago.It’swonderful,Miranda,isn’tit?”
“Yes,it’sverywonderful,”saidMiranda.“Showitme.”
Theywalkeduptothetopmoststone.Besideitlayafallenoneandalittlefartherdowntheslopeaslightlyinclinedoneleantasthoughbentwiththewearinessofyears.
“Areyouhappy,Miranda?”
“Yes,I’mveryhappy.”
“There’sthesignhere.”
“Isthatreallythedoubleaxe?”
“Yes,it’swornwithtimebutthat’sit.That’sthesymbol.Putyourhandonit.Andnow—nowwewilldrinktothepastandthefutureandtobeauty.”
“Oh,howlovely,”saidMiranda.
Agoldencupwasputintoherhand,andfromaflaskhercompanionpouredagoldenliquidintoit.
“Ittastesoffruit,ofpeaches.Drinkit,Miranda,andyouwillbehappierstill.”
Mirandatookthegiltcup.Shesniffedatit.
“Yes.Yes,itdoessmellofpeaches.Ohlook,there’sthesun.Reallyredgold—lookingasthoughitwaslyingontheedgeoftheworld.”
Heturnedhertowardsit.
“Holdthecupanddrink.”
Sheturnedobediently.Onehandwasstillonthemegalithicstoneanditssemierasedsign.Hercompanionnowwasstandingbehindher.Frombelowtheinclinedstonedownthehill,twofiguresslippedout,benthalfdouble.Thoseonthesummithadtheirbackstothem,anddidnotevennoticethem.Quicklybutstealthilytheyranupthehill.
“Drinktobeauty,Miranda.”
“Likehellshedoes!”saidavoicebehindthem.
Arosevelvetcoatshotoverahead,aknifewasknockedfromthehandthatwasslowlyrising.NicholasRansomcaughtholdofMiranda,claspinghertightlyanddraggingherawayfromtheothertwowhowerestruggling.
“Youbloodylittleidiot,”saidNicholasRansom.“Comingupherewithabarmymurderer.Youshouldhaveknownwhatyouweredoing.”
“Ididinaway,”saidMiranda.“Iwasgoingtobeasacrifice,Ithink,becauseyouseeitwasallmyfault.ItwasbecauseofmethatJoycewaskilled.Soitwasrightformetobeasacrifice,wasn’tit?Itwouldbeakindofritualkilling.”
“Don’tstarttalkingnonsenseaboutritualkillings.They’vefoundthatothergirl.Youknow,theaupairgirlwhohasbeenmissingsolong.Acoupleofyearsorsomethinglikethat.Theyallthoughtshe’drunawaybecauseshe’dforgedaWill.Shehadn’trunaway.Herbodywasfoundinthewell.”
“Oh!”Mirandagaveasuddencryofanguish.“Notinthewishingwell?NotinthewishingwellthatIwantedtofindsobadly?Oh,Idon’twanthertobeinthewishingwell.Who—whoputherthere?”
“Thesamepersonwhobroughtyouhere.”
Twenty-six
OnceagainfourmensatlookingatPoirot.TimothyRaglan,SuperintendentSpenceandtheChiefConstablehadthepleasedexpectantlookofacatwhoiscountingonasaucerofcreamtomaterializeatanymoment.Thefourthmanstillhadtheexpressionofonewhosuspendsbelief.
“Well,MonsieurPoirot,”saidtheChiefConstable,takingchargeoftheproceedingsandleavingtheD.P.P.mantoholdawatchingbrief.“We’reallhere—”
Poirotmadeamotionwithhishand.InspectorRaglanlefttheroomandreturnedusheringinawomanofthirtyodd,agirl,andtwoadolescentyoungmen.
HeintroducedthemtotheChiefConstable.“Mrs.Butler,MissMirandaButler,Mr.NicholasRansomandMr.DesmondHolland.”
PoirotgotupandtookMiranda’shand.“Sitherebyyourmother,Miranda—Mr.RichmondherewhoiswhatiscalledaChiefConstable,wantstoaskyousomequestions.Hewantsyoutoanswerthem.Itconcernssomethingyousaw—overayearagonow,nearertwoyears.Youmentionedthistooneperson,and,soIunderstand,toonepersononly.Isthatcorrect?”
“ItoldJoyce.”
“AndwhatexactlydidyoutellJoyce?”
“ThatI’dseenamurder.”
“Didyoutellanyoneelse?”
“No.ButIthinkLeopoldguessed.Helistens,youknow.Atdoors.Thatsortofthing.Helikesknowingpeople’ssecrets.”
“YouhaveheardthatJoyceReynolds,ontheafternoonbeforetheHallowe’enparty,claimedthatsheherselfhadseenamurdercommitted.Wasthattrue?”
“No.ShewasjustrepeatingwhatI’dtoldher—butpretendingthatithadhappenedtoher.”
“Willyoutellusnowjustwhatyoudidsee.”
“Ididn’tknowatfirstthatitwasamurder.Ithoughttherehadbeenanaccident.Ithoughtshe’dfallenfromupabovesomewhere.”
“Wherewasthis?”
“IntheQuarryGarden—inthehollowwherethefountainusedtobe.Iwasupinthebranchesofatree.I’dbeenlookingatasquirrelandonehastokeepveryquiet,ortheyrushaway.Squirrelsareveryquick.”
“Telluswhatyousaw.”
“Amanandawomanliftedherupandwerecarryingherupthepath.IthoughttheyweretakinghertoahospitalortotheQuarryHouse.Thenthewomanstoppedsuddenlyandsaid,‘Someoneiswatchingus,’andstaredatmytree.Somehowitmademefeelfrightened.Ikeptverystill.Themansaid‘Nonsense,’andtheywenton.Isawtherewasbloodonascarfandtherewasaknifewithbloodonthat—andIthoughtperhapssomeonehadtriedtokillthemselves—andIwentonkeepingverystill.”
“Becauseyouwerefrightened?”
“Yes,butIdon’tknowwhy.”
“Youdidn’ttellyourmother?”
“No.IthoughtperhapsIoughtn’ttohavebeentherewatching.Andthenthenextdaynobodysaidanythingaboutanaccident,soIforgotaboutit.Ineverthoughtaboutitagainuntil—”
Shestoppedsuddenly.TheChiefConstableopenedhismouth—thenshutit.HelookedatPoirotandmadeaveryslightgesture.
“Yes,Miranda,”saidPoirot,“untilwhat?”
“Itwasasthoughitwashappeningalloveragain.Itwasagreenwoodpeckerthistime,andIwasbeingverystill,watchingitfrombehindsomebushes.Andthosetwoweresittingtheretalking—aboutanisland—aGreekisland.Shesaidsomethinglike,‘It’sallsignedup.It’sours,wecangotoitwheneverwelike.Butwe’dbettergoslowstill—notrushthings.’Andthenthewoodpeckerflewaway,andImoved.Andshesaid—‘Hush—bequiet—somebody’swatchingus.’Itwasjustthewayshe’dsaiditbefore,andshehadjustthesamelookonherface,andIwasfrightenedagain,andIremembered.AndthistimeIknew.IknewithadbeenamurderIhadseenandithadbeenadeadbodytheywerecarryingawaytohidesomewhere.Yousee,Iwasn’tachildanymore.Iknew—thingsandwhattheymustmean—thebloodandtheknifeandthedeadbodyalllimp—”
“Whenwasthis?”askedtheChiefConstable.“Howlongago?”
Mirandathoughtforamoment.
“LastMarch—justafterEaster.”
“Canyousaydefinitelywhothesepeoplewere,Miranda?”
“OfcourseIcan.”Mirandalookedbewildered.
“Yousawtheirfaces?”
“Ofcourse.”
“Whowerethey?”
“Mrs.DrakeandMichael….”
Itwasnotadramaticdenunciation.Hervoicewasquiet,withsomethinginitlikewonder,butitcarriedconviction.
TheChiefConstablesaid,“Youdidnottellanyone.Whynot?”
“Ithought—Ithoughtitmighthavebeenasacrifice.”
“Whotoldyouthat?”
“Michaeltoldme—hesaidsacrificeswerenecessary.”
Poirotsaidgently,“YoulovedMichael?”
“Ohyes,”saidMiranda,“Ilovedhimverymuch.”
Twenty-seven
“NowI’vegotyouhereatlast,”saidMrs.Oliver,“Iwanttoknowallabouteverything.”
ShelookedatPoirotwithdeterminationandaskedseverely:
“Whyhaven’tyoucomesooner?”
“Myexcuses,Madame,Ihavebeenmuchoccupiedassistingthepolicewiththeirinquiries.”
“It’scriminalswhodothat.WhatonearthmadeyouthinkofRowenaDrakebeingmixedupinamurder?Nobodyelsewouldhavedreamedofit?”
“ItwassimpleassoonasIgotthevitalclue.”
“Whatdoyoucallthevitalclue?”
“Water.Iwantedsomeonewhowasatthepartyandwhowaswet,andwhoshouldn’thavebeenwet.WhoeverkilledJoyceReynoldswouldnecessarilyhavegotwet.Youholddownavigorouschildwithitsheadinafullbucketofwater,andtherewillbestrugglingandsplashingandyouareboundtobewet.Sosomethinghasgottohappentoprovideaninnocentexplanationofhowyougotwet.WheneveryonecrowdedintothediningroomfortheSnapdragon,Mrs.DraketookJoycewithhertothelibrary.Ifyourhostessasksyoutocomewithher,naturallyyougo.AndcertainlyJoycehadnosuspicionofMrs.Drake.AllMirandahadtoldherwasthatshehadonceseenamurdercommitted.AndsoJoycewaskilledandhermurdererwasfairlywellsoakedwithwater.Theremustbeareasonforthatandshesetaboutcreatingareason.Shehadtogetawitnessastohowshegotwet.Shewaitedonthelandingwithanenormousvaseofflowersfilledwithwater.InduecourseMissWhittakercameoutfromtheSnapdragonroom—itwashotinthere.Mrs.Drakepretendedtostartnervously,andletthevasego,takingcarethatitfloodedherpersonasitcrasheddowntothehallbelow.SherandownthestairsandsheandMissWhittakerpickedupthepiecesandtheflowerswhileMrs.Drakecomplainedatthelossofherbeautifulvase.ShemanagedtogiveMissWhittakertheimpressionthatshehadseensomethingorsomeonecomingoutoftheroomwhereamurderhadbeencommitted.MissWhittakertookthestatementatitsfacevalue,butwhenshementionedittoMissEmlyn,MissEmlynrealizedthereallyinterestingthingaboutit.AndsosheurgedMissWhittakertotellmethestory
“Andso,”saidPoirot,twirlinghismoustaches,“I,too,knewwhothemurdererofJoycewas.”
“AndallthetimeJoycehadneverseenanymurdercommittedatall!”
“Mrs.Drakedidnotknowthat.ButshehadalwayssuspectedthatsomeonehadbeenthereintheQuarryWoodwhensheandMichaelGarfieldhadkilledOlgaSeminoff,andmighthaveseenithappen.”
“WhendidyouknowithadbeenMirandaandnotJoyce?”
“AssoonascommonsenseforcedmetoaccepttheuniversalverdictthatJoycewasaliar.ThenMirandawasclearlyindicated.ShewasfrequentlyintheQuarryWood,observingbirdsandsquirrels.Joycewas,asMirandatoldme,herbestfriend.Shesaid:‘Wetelleachothereverything.’Mirandawasnotattheparty,sothecompulsiveliarJoycecouldusethestoryherfriendhadtoldherofhavingonceseenamurdercommitted—probablyinordertoimpressyou,Madame,thewell-knowncrimewriter.”
“That’sright,blameitallonme.”
“No,no.”
“RowenaDrake,”musedMrs.Oliver.“Istillcan’tbelieveitofher.”
“Shehadallthequalitiesnecessary.Ihavealwayswondered,”headded,“exactlywhatsortofwomanLadyMacbethwas.Whatwouldshebelikeifyoumetherinreallife?Well,IthinkIhavemether.”
“AndMichaelGarfield?Theyseemsuchanunlikelypair.”
“Interesting—LadyMacbethandNarcissus,anunusualcombination.”
“LadyMacbeth,”Mrs.Olivermurmuredthoughtfully.
“Shewasahandsomewoman—efficientandcompetent—abornadministrator—anunexpectedlygoodactress.YoushouldhaveheardherlamentingoverthedeathofthelittleboyLeopoldandweepinglargesobsintoadryhandkerchief.”
“Disgusting.”
“YourememberIaskedyouwho,inyouropinion,wereorwerenotnicepeople.”
“WasMichaelGarfieldinlovewithher?”
“IdoubtifMichaelGarfieldhaseverlovedanyonebuthimself.Hewantedmoney—alotofmoney.PerhapshebelievedatfirsthecouldinfluenceMrs.Llewellyn-SmythetodoteuponhimtotheextentofmakingaWillinhisfavour—butMrs.Llewellyn-Smythewasnotthatkindofwoman.”
“Whatabouttheforgery?Istilldon’tunderstandthat.Whatwasthepointofitall?”
“Itwasconfusingatfirst.Toomuchforgery,onemightsay.Butifoneconsideredit,thepurposeofitwasclear.Youhadonlytoconsiderwhatactuallyhappened.
“Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythe’sfortuneallwenttoRowenaDrake.Thecodicilproducedwassoobviouslyforgedthatanylawyerwouldspotit.Itwouldbecontested,andtheevidenceofexpertswouldresultinitsbeingupset,andtheoriginalWillwouldstand.AsRowenaDrake’shusbandhadrecentlydiedshewouldinheriteverything.”
“Butwhataboutthecodicilthatthecleaningwomanwitnessed?”
“MysurmiseisthatMrs.Llewellyn-SmythediscoveredthatMichaelGarfieldandRowenaDrakewerehavinganaffair—probablybeforeherhusbanddied.InherangerMrs.Llewellyn-SmythemadeacodiciltoherWillleavingeverythingtoheraupairgirl.ProbablythegirltoldMichaelaboutthis—shewashopingtomarryhim.”
“IthoughtitwasyoungFerrier?”
“ThatwasaplausibletaletoldmebyMichael.Therewasnoconfirmationofit.”
“Thenifheknewtherewasarealcodicilwhydidn’themarryOlgaandgetholdofthemoneythatway?”
“Becausehedoubtedwhethershereallywouldgetthemoney.Thereissuchathingasundueinfluence.Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythewasanelderlywomanandasickwomanalso.AllherprecedingWillshadbeeninfavourofherownkithandkin—goodsensibleWillssuchaslawcourtsapproveof.Thisgirlfromforeignpartshadbeenknowntoheronlyayear—andhadnokindofclaimuponher.Thatcodicileventhoughgenuinecouldhavebeenupset.Besides,IdoubtifOlgacouldhaveputthroughthepurchaseofaGreekisland—orwouldevenhavebeenwillingtodoso.Shehadnoinfluentialfriends,orcontactsinbusinesscircles.ShewasattractedtoMichael,butshelookeduponhimasagoodprospectmatrimonially,whowouldenablehertoliveinEngland—whichiswhatshewantedtodo.”
“AndRowenaDrake?”
“Shewasinfatuated.Herhusbandhadbeenformanyyearsacrippledinvalid.Shewasmiddle-agedbutshewasapassionatewoman,andintoherorbitcameayoungmanofunusualbeauty.Womenfellforhimeasily—buthewanted—notthebeautyofwomen—buttheexerciseofhisowncreativeurgetomakebeauty.Forthathewantedmoney—alotofmoney.Asforlove—heonlylovedhimself.HewasNarcissus.ThereisanoldFrenchsongIheardmanyyearsago—”
Hehummedsoftly.
“Regarde,NarcisseRegardedansl’eauRegarde,Narcisse,quetuesbeauIln’yaaumondeQuelaBeautéEtlaJeunesse,Hélas!EtlaJeunesse…Regarde,Narcisse…Regardedansl’eau….”
“Ican’tbelieve—Isimplycan’tbelievethatanyonewoulddomurderjusttomakeagardenonaGreekisland,”saidMrs.Oliverunbelievingly.
“Can’tyou?Can’tyouvisualizehowhehelditinhismind?Barerock,perhaps,butsoshapedastoholdpossibilities.Earth,cargoesoffertileearthtoclothethebarebonesoftherocks—andthenplants,seeds,shrubs,trees.Perhapshereadinthepaperofashippingmillionairewhohadcreatedanislandgardenforthewomanheloved.Andsoitcametohim—hewouldmakeagarden,notforawoman,but—forhimself.”
“Itstillseemstomequitemad.”
“Yes.Thathappens.Idoubtifheeventhoughtofhismotiveassordid.Hethoughtofitonlyasnecessaryforthecreationofmorebeauty.He’dgonemadoncreation.ThebeautyoftheQuarryWood,thebeautyofothergardenshe’dlaidoutandmade—andnowheenvisagedevenmore—awholeislandofbeauty.AndtherewasRowenaDrake,infatuatedwithhim.Whatdidshemeantohimbutthesourceofmoneywithwhichhecouldcreatebeauty.Yes—hehadbecomemad,perhaps.Whomthegodsdestroy,theyfirstdrivemad.”
“Hereallywantedhisislandsomuch?EvenwithRowenaDraketiedroundhisneckaswell?Bossinghimthewholetime?”
“Accidentscanhappen.IthinkonemightpossiblyhavehappenedtoMrs.Drakeinduecourse.”
“Onemoremurder?”
“Yes.Itstartedsimply.Olgahadtoberemovedbecausesheknewaboutthecodicil—andshewasalsotobethescapegoat,brandedasaforger.Mrs.Llewellyn-Smythehadhiddentheoriginaldocument,soIthinkthatyoungFerrierwasgivenmoneytoproduceasimilarforgeddocument.Soobviouslyforgedthatitwouldarousesuspicionatonce.Thatsealedhisdeathwarrant.LesleyFerrier,Isoondecided,hadhadnoarrangementorloveaffairwithOlga.ThatwasasuggestionmadetomebyMichaelGarfield,butIthinkitwasMichaelwhopaidmoneytoLesley.ItwasMichaelGarfieldwhowaslayingsiegetotheaupairgirl’saffections,warninghertokeepquietaboutthisandnottellheremployer,speakingofpossiblemarriageinthefuturebutatthesametimemarkingherdowncold-bloodedlyasthevictimwhomheandRowenaDrakewouldneedifthemoneywastocometothem.ItwasnotnecessaryforOlgaSeminofftobeaccusedofforgery,orprosecuted.Sheneededonlytobesuspectedofit.Theforgeryappearedtobenefither.Itcouldhavebeendonebyherveryeasily,therewasevidencetotheeffectthatshedidcopyheremployer’shandwritingandifshewassuddenlytodisappear,itwouldbeassumedthatshehadbeennotonlyaforger,butquitepossiblymighthaveassistedheremployertodiesuddenly.SoonasuitableoccasionOlgaSeminoffdied.LesleyFerrierwaskilledinwhatispurportedtohavebeenagangknifingoraknifingbyajealouswoman.Buttheknifethatwasfoundinthewellcorrespondsverycloselywiththeknifewoundsthathesuffered.IknewthatOlga’sbodymustbehiddensomewhereinthisneighbourhood,butIhadnoideawhereuntilIheardMirandaonedayinquiringaboutawishingwell,urgingMichaelGarfieldtotakeherthere.Andhewasrefusing.ShortlyafterwardswhenIwastalkingtoMrs.Goodbody,IsaidIwonderedwherethatgirlhaddisappearedto,andshesaid‘Dingdongdell,pussy’sinthewell’andthenIwasquitesurethegirl’sbodywasinthewishingwell.Idiscovereditwasinthewood,intheQuarryWood,onaninclinenotfarfromMichaelGarfield’scottageandIthoughtthatMirandacouldhaveseeneithertheactualmurderorthedisposalofthebodylater.Mrs.DrakeandMichaelfearedthatsomeonehadbeenawitness—buttheyhadnoideawhoitwas—andasnothinghappenedtheywerelulledintosecurity.Theymadetheirplans—theywereinnohurry,buttheysetthingsinmotion.Shetalkedaboutbuyinglandabroad—gavepeopletheideashewantedtogetawayfromWoodleighCommon.Toomanysadassociations,referringalwaystohergriefoverherhusband’sdeath.EverythingwasnicelyintrainandthencametheshockofHallowe’enandJoyce’ssuddenassertionofhavingwitnessedamurder.SonowRowenaknew,orthoughtsheknew,whoithadbeeninthewoodthatday.Sosheactedquickly.Buttherewasmoretocome.YoungLeopoldaskedformoney—therewerethingshewantedtobuy,hesaid.Whatheguessedorknewisuncertain,buthewasJoyce’sbrother,andsotheyprobablythoughtheknewfarmorethanhereallydid.Andso—he,too,died.”
“Yoususpectedherbecauseofthewaterclue,”saidMrs.Oliver.“HowdidyoucometosuspectMichaelGarfield?”
“Hefitted,”saidPoirotsimply.“Andthen—thelasttimeIspoketoMichaelGarfield,Iwassure.Hesaidtome,laughing—‘Gettheebeyondme,Satan.Goandjoinyourpolicefriends.’AndIknewthen,quitecertainly.Itwastheotherwayround.Isaidtomyself:‘Iamleavingyoubehindme,Satan.’ASatansoyoungandbeautifulasLucifercanappeartomortals….”
Therewasanotherwomanintheroom—untilnowshehadnotspoken,butnowshestirredinherchair.
“Lucifer,”shesaid.“Yes,Iseenow.Hewasalwaysthat.”
“Hewasverybeautiful,”saidPoirot,“andhelovedbeauty.Thebeautythathemadewithhisbrainandhisimaginationandhishands.Toithewouldsacrificeeverything.Inhisownway,Ithink,helovedthechildMiranda—buthewasreadytosacrificeher—tosavehimself.Heplannedherdeathverycarefully—hemadeofitaritualand,asonemightputit,indoctrinatedherwiththeidea.ShewastolethimknowifshewereleavingWoodleighCommon—heinstructedhertomeethimattheInnwhereyouandMrs.Oliverlunched.ShewastohavebeenfoundonKilterburyRing—therebythesignofthedoubleaxe,withagoldengobletbyherside—aritualsacrifice.”
“Mad,”saidJudithButler.“Hemusthavebeenmad.”
“Madame,yourdaughterissafe—butthereissomethingIwouldliketoknowverymuch.”
“IthinkyoudeservetoknowanythingIcantellyou,MonsieurPoirot.”
“Sheisyourdaughter—wasshealsoMichaelGarfield’sdaughter?”
Judithwassilentforamoment,andthenshesaid,“Yes.”
“Butshedoesn’tknowthat?”
“No.Shehasnoidea.Meetinghimherewasapurecoincidence.IknewhimwhenIwasayounggirl.Ifellwildlyinlovewithhimandthen—andthenIgotafraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Yes.Idon’tknowwhy.Notofanythinghewoulddoorthatsortofthing,justafraidofhisnature.Hisgentleness,butbehindit,acoldnessandaruthlessness.Iwasevenafraidofhispassionforbeautyandforcreationinhiswork.Ididn’ttellhimIwasgoingtohaveachild.Ilefthim—Iwentawayandthebabywasborn.Iinventedthestoryofapilothusbandwhohadhadacrash.Imovedaboutratherrestlessly.IcametoWoodleighCommonmoreorlessbychance.IhadgotcontactsinMedchesterwhereIcouldfindsecretarialwork.
“AndthenonedayMichaelGarfieldcameheretoworkintheQuarryWood.Idon’tthinkIminded.Nordidhe.Allthatwasoverlongago,butlater,althoughIdidn’trealizehowoftenMirandawenttheretotheWood,Ididworry—”
“Yes,”saidPoirot,“therewasabondbetweenthem.Anaturalaffinity.Isawthelikenessbetweenthem—onlyMichaelGarfield,thefollowerofLuciferthebeautiful,wasevil,andyourdaughterhasinnocenceandwisdom,andthereisnoevilinher.”
Hewentovertohisdeskandbroughtbackanenvelope.Outofithedrewadelicatepencildrawing.
“Yourdaughter,”hesaid.
Judithlookedatit.Itwassigned“MichaelGarfield.”
“Hewasdrawingherbythestream,”saidPoirot,“intheQuarryWood.Hedrewit,hesaid,sothatheshouldnotforget.Hewasafraidofforgetting.Itwouldn’thavestoppedhimkillingher,though.”
Thenhepointedtoapencilledwordacrossthetoplefthandcorner.
“Canyoureadthat?”
Shespeltitoutslowly.
“Iphigenia.”
“Yes,”saidPoirot,“Iphigenia.Agamemnonsacrificedhisdaughter,sothatheshouldgetawindtotakehisshipstoTroy.MichaelwouldhavesacrificedhisdaughtersothatheshouldhaveanewGardenofEden.”
“Heknewwhathewasdoing,”saidJudith.“Iwonder—ifhewouldeverhavehadregrets?”
Poirotdidnotanswer.Apicturewasforminginhismindofayoungmanofsingularbeautylyingbythemegalithicstonemarkedwithadoubleaxe,andstillclaspinginhisdeadfingersthegoldengoblethehadseizedanddrainedwhenretributionhadcomesuddenlytosavehisvictimandtodeliverhimtojustice.
ItwassothatMichaelGarfieldhaddied—afittingdeath,Poirotthought—but,alas,therewouldbenogardenblossomingonanislandintheGrecianSeas…
InsteadtherewouldbeMiranda—aliveandyoungandbeautiful.
HeraisedJudith’shandandkissedit.
“Goodbye,Madame,andremembermetoyourdaughter.”
“Sheoughtalwaystorememberyouandwhatsheowesyou.”
“Betternot—somememoriesarebetterburied.”
HewentontoMrs.Oliver.
“Goodnight,chèreMadame.LadyMacbethandNarcissus.Ithasbeenremarkablyinteresting.Ihavetothankyouforbringingittomynotice—”
“That’sright,”saidMrs.Oliverinanexasperatedvoice,“blameitallonmeasusual!”
TheAgathaChristieCollection
THEHERCULEPOIROTMYSTERIES
MatchyourwitswiththefamousBelgiandetective.
TheMysteriousAffairatStylesTheMurderontheLinksPoirotInvestigatesTheMurderofRogerAckroydTheBigFourTheMysteryoftheBlueTrainPerilatEndHouseLordEdgwareDiesMurderontheOrientExpressThreeActTragedyDeathintheCloudsTheA.B.C.MurdersMurderinMesopotamiaCardsontheTableMurderintheMewsDumbWitnessDeathontheNileAppointmentwithDeathHerculePoirot’sChristmasSadCypressOne,Two,BuckleMyShoeEvilUndertheSunFiveLittlePigsTheHollowTheLaborsofHerculesTakenattheFloodTheUnderdogandOtherStoriesMrs.McGinty’sDeadAftertheFuneralHickoryDickoryDockDeadMan’sFollyCatAmongthePigeonsTheClocksThirdGirlHallowe’enPartyElephantsCanRememberCurtain:Poirot’sLastCase
Exploremoreatwww.AgathaChristie.com
TheAgathaChristieCollection
THEMISSMARPLEMYSTERIES
JointhelegendaryspinstersleuthfromSt.MaryMeadinsolvingmurdersfarandwide.
TheMurderattheVicarageTheBodyintheLibraryTheMovingFingerAMurderIsAnnouncedTheyDoItwithMirrorsAPocketFullofRye4:50FromPaddingtonTheMirrorCrack’dfromSidetoSideACaribbeanMysteryAtBertram’sHotelNemesisSleepingMurderMissMarple:TheCompleteShortStories
THETOMMYANDTUPPENCEMYSTERIES
Jumponboardwiththeentertainingcrime-solvingcouplefromYoungAdventurersLtd.
TheSecretAdversaryPartnersinCrimeNorM?BythePrickingofMyThumbsPosternofFate
Exploremoreatwww.AgathaChristie.com
TheAgathaChristieCollection
Don’tmissasingleoneofAgathaChristie’sstand-alonenovelsandshort-storycollections.
TheManintheBrownSuitTheSecretofChimneysTheSevenDialsMysteryTheMysteriousMr.QuinTheSittafordMysteryParkerPyneInvestigatesWhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?MurderIsEasyTheRegattaMysteryandOtherStoriesAndThenThereWereNoneTowardsZeroDeathComesastheEndSparklingCyanideTheWitnessfortheProsecutionandOtherStoriesCrookedHouseThreeBlindMiceandOtherStoriesTheyCametoBaghdadDestinationUnknownOrdealbyInnocenceDoubleSinandOtherStoriesThePaleHorseStaroverBethlehem:PoemsandHolidayStoriesEndlessNightPassengertoFrankfurtTheGoldenBallandOtherStoriesTheMousetrapandOtherPlaysTheHarlequinTeaSet
Exploremoreatwww.AgathaChristie.com
AbouttheAuthor
AgathaChristieisthemostwidelypublishedauthorofalltimeandinanylanguage,outsoldonlybytheBibleandShakespeare.HerbookshavesoldmorethanabillioncopiesinEnglishandanotherbillioninahundredforeignlanguages.Sheistheauthorofeightycrimenovelsandshort-storycollections,nineteenplays,twomemoirs,andsixnovelswrittenunderthenameMaryWestmacott.
ShefirsttriedherhandatdetectivefictionwhileworkinginahospitaldispensaryduringWorldWarI,creatingthenowlegendaryHerculePoirotwithherdebutnovelTheMysteriousAffairatStyles.WithTheMurderintheVicarage,publishedin1930,sheintroducedanotherbelovedsleuth,MissJaneMarple.Additionalseriescharactersincludethehusband-and-wifecrime-fightingteamofTommyandTuppenceBeresford,privateinvestigatorParkerPyne,andScotlandYarddetectivesSuperintendentBattleandInspectorJapp.
ManyofChristie’snovelsandshortstorieswereadaptedintoplays,films,andtelevisionseries.TheMousetrap,hermostfamousplayofall,openedin1952andisthelongest-runningplayinhistory.Amongherbest-knownfilmadaptationsareMurderontheOrientExpress(1974)andDeathontheNile(1978),withAlbertFinneyandPeterUstinovplayingHerculePoirot,respectively.OnthesmallscreenPoirothasbeenmostmemorablyportrayedbyDavidSuchet,andMissMarplebyJoanHicksonandsubsequentlyGeraldineMcEwanandJuliaMcKenzie.
ChristiewasfirstmarriedtoArchibaldChristieandthentoarchaeologistSirMaxMallowan,whomsheaccompaniedonexpeditionstocountriesthatwouldalsoserveasthesettingsformanyofhernovels.In1971sheachievedoneofBritain’shighesthonorswhenshewasmadeaDameoftheBritishEmpire.Shediedin1976attheageofeighty-five.Heronehundredandtwentiethanniversarywascelebratedaroundtheworldin2010.
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THEAGATHACHRISTIECOLLECTION
TheManintheBrownSuit
TheSecretofChimneys
TheSevenDialsMystery
TheMysteriousMr.Quin
TheSittafordMystery
ParkerPyneInvestigates
WhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?
MurderIsEasy
TheRegattaMysteryandOtherStories
AndThenThereWereNone
TowardsZero
DeathComesastheEnd
SparklingCyanide
TheWitnessfortheProsecutionandOtherStories
CrookedHouse
ThreeBlindMiceandOtherStories
TheyCametoBaghdad
DestinationUnknown
OrdealbyInnocence
DoubleSinandOtherStories
ThePaleHorse
StaroverBethlehem:PoemsandHolidayStories
EndlessNight
PassengertoFrankfurt
TheGoldenBallandOtherStories
TheMousetrapandOtherPlays
TheHarlequinTeaSet
TheHerculePoirotMysteries
TheMysteriousAffairatStyles
TheMurderontheLinks
PoirotInvestigates
TheMurderofRogerAckroyd
TheBigFour
TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain
PerilatEndHouse
LordEdgwareDies
MurderontheOrientExpress
ThreeActTragedy
DeathintheClouds
TheA.B.C.Murders
MurderinMesopotamia
CardsontheTable
MurderintheMews
DumbWitness
DeathontheNile
AppointmentwithDeath
HerculePoirot’sChristmas
SadCypress
One,Two,BuckleMyShoe
EvilUndertheSun
FiveLittlePigs
TheHollow
TheLaborsofHercules
TakenattheFlood
TheUnderdogandOtherStories
Mrs.McGinty’sDead
AftertheFuneral
HickoryDickoryDock
DeadMan’sFolly
CatAmongthePigeons
TheClocks
ThirdGirl
Hallowe’enParty
ElephantsCanRemember
Curtain:Poirot’sLastCase
TheMissMarpleMysteries
TheMurderattheVicarage
TheBodyintheLibrary
TheMovingFinger
AMurderIsAnnounced
TheyDoItwithMirrors
APocketFullofRye
4:50fromPaddington
TheMirrorCrack’dfromSidetoSide
ACaribbeanMystery
AtBertram’sHotel
Nemesis
SleepingMurder
MissMarple:TheCompleteShortStories
TheTommyandTuppenceMysteries
TheSecretAdversary
PartnersinCrime
NorM?
BythePrickingofMyThumbs
PosternofFate
Memoirs
AnAutobiography
Come,TellMeHowYouLive
Copyright
Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Thecharacters,incidents,anddialoguearedrawnfromtheauthor’simaginationandarenottobeconstruedasreal.Anyresemblancetoactualeventsorpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
AGATHACHRISTIE?POIROT?HALLOWE’ENPARTY?.Copyright?1969AgathaChristieLimited(aChorioncompany).Allrightsreserved.
HALLOWE’ENPARTY?1969.PublishedbypermissionofG.P.Putnam’sSons,amemberofPenguinGroup(USA)Inc.Allrightsreserved.PrintedintheUnitedStatesofAmerica.Nopartofthisbookmaybeusedorreproducedinanymannerwhatsoeverwithoutwrittenpermissionexceptinthecaseofbriefquotationsembodiedincriticalarticlesandreviews.Forinformation,addressHarperCollinsPublishers,10East53rdStreet,NewYork,NY10022.