Hercule Poirot's Christmas

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Hercule Poirot's Christmas Page 19

by Agatha Christie


  Poirot looked crestfallen. He murmured:

  ‘True…it was foolish…We must go at once.’

  He hurried out of the room. Lydia and Alfred were at the foot of the stairs peering up—George came out of the library to join them, and Pilar came running, a passport held in her hand.

  Poirot cried:

  ‘It is nothing—nothing. Do not be alarmed. A little experiment that I make. That was all.’

  Alfred looked annoyed and George indignant. Poirot left Stephen to explain and he hurriedly slipped away along the passage to the other end of the house.

  At the end of the passage Superintendent Sugden came quietly out of Pilar’s door and met Poirot.

  ‘Eh bien?’ asked Poirot.

  The superintendent shook his head.

  ‘Not a sound.’

  His eyes met Poirot’s appreciatively and he nodded.

  V

  Alfred Lee said: ‘Then you accept, M. Poirot?’

  His hand, as it went to his mouth, shook slightly. His mild brown eyes were alight with a new and feverish expression. He stammered slightly in his speech. Lydia, standing silently by, looked at him with some anxiety.

  Alfred said:

  ‘You don’t know—you c-c-can’t imagine—what it m-m-means to me…My father’s murderer must be f-f-found.’

  Poirot said:

  ‘Since you have assured me that you have reflected long and carefully—yes, I accept. But you comprehend, Mr Lee, there can be no drawing back. I am not the dog one sets on to hunt and then recalls because you do not like the game he puts up!’

  ‘Of course…of course…Everything is ready. Your bedroom is prepared. Stay as long as you like—’

  Poirot said gravely: ‘It will not be long.’

  ‘Eh? What’s that?’

  ‘I said it will not be long. There is in this crime such a restricted circle that it cannot possibly take long to arrive at the truth. Already, I think, the end draws near.’

  Alfred stared at him, ‘Impossible!’ he said.

  ‘Not at all. The facts all point more or less clearly in one direction. There is just some irrelevant matter to be cleared out of the way. When this is done the truth will appear.’

  Alfred said incredulously:

  ‘You mean you know?’

  Poirot smiled. ‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘I know.’

  Alfred said:

  ‘My father—my father—’ He turned away.

  Poirot said briskly:

  ‘There are, M. Lee, two requests that I have to make.’

  Alfred said in a muffled voice:

  ‘Anything—anything.’

  ‘Then, in the first place, I would like the portrait of M. Lee as a young man placed in the bedroom you are good enough to allot to me.’

  Alfred and Lydia stared at him.

  The former said: ‘My father’s portrait—but why?’

  Poirot said with a wave of the hand:

  ‘It will—how shall I say—inspire me.’

  Lydia said sharply:

  ‘Do you propose, M. Poirot, to solve a crime by clairvoyance?’

  ‘Let us say, madame, that I intend to use not only the eyes of the body, but the eyes of the mind.’

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  Poirot continued:

  ‘Next, M. Lee, I should like to know of the true circumstances attending the death of your sister’s husband, Juan Estravados.’

  Lydia said: ‘Is that necessary?’

  ‘I want all the facts, madame.’

  Alfred said:

  ‘Juan Estravados, as the result of a quarrel about a woman, killed another man in a café.’

  ‘How did he kill him?’

  Alfred looked appealingly at Lydia. She said evenly:

  ‘He stabbed him. Juan Estravados was not condemned to death, as there had been provocation. He was sentenced to a term of imprisonment and died in prison.’

  ‘Does his daughter know about her father?’

  ‘I think not.’

  Alfred said:

  ‘No, Jennifer never told her.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Lydia said:

  ‘You don’t think that Pilar—Oh, it’s absurd!’

  Poirot said:

  ‘Now, M. Lee, will you give me some facts about your brother, M. Harry Lee?’

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘I understand that he was considered somewhat of a disgrace to the family. Why?’

  Lydia said:

  ‘It is so long ago…’

  Alfred said, the colour coming up in his face:

  ‘If you want to know, M. Poirot, he stole a large sum of money by forging my father’s name to a cheque. Naturally my father didn’t prosecute. Harry’s always been crooked. He’s been in trouble all over the world. Always cabling for money to get out of a scrape. He’s been in and out of gaol here, there and everywhere.’

  Lydia said:

  ‘You don’t really know all this, Alfred.’

  Alfred said angrily, his hands shaking:

  ‘Harry’s no good—no good whatever! He never has been!’

  Poirot said:

  ‘There is, I see, no love lost between you?’

  Alfred said:

  ‘He victimized my father—victimized him shamefully!’

  Lydia sighed—a quick, impatient sigh. Poirot heard it and gave her a sharp glance.

  She said:

  ‘If only those diamonds could be found. I’m sure the solution lies there.’

  Poirot said:

  ‘They have been found, madame.’

  ‘What?’

  Poirot said gently:

  ‘They were found in your little garden of the Dead Sea…’

  Lydia cried:

  ‘In my garden? How—how extraordinary!’

  Poirot said softly:

  ‘Is it not, madame?’

  Part 6

  December 27th

  Alfred Lee said with a sigh:

  ‘That was better than I feared!’

  They had just returned from the inquest.

  Mr Charlton, an old-fashioned type of solicitor with a cautious blue eye, had been present and had returned with them. He said:

  ‘Ah—I told you the proceedings would be purely formal—purely formal—there was bound to be an adjournment—to enable the police to gather up additional evidence.’

  George Lee said vexedly:

  ‘It is all most unpleasant—really most unpleasant—a terrible position in which to be placed! I myself am quite convinced that this crime was done by a maniac who somehow or other gained admittance to the house. That man Sugden is as obstinate as a mule. Colonel Johnson should enlist the aid of Scotland Yard. These local police are no good. Thick-headed. What about this man Horbury, for instance? I hear his past is definitely unsatisfactory but the police do nothing whatever about it.’

  Mr Charlton said:

  ‘Ah—I believe the man Horbury has a satisfactory alibi covering the period of time in question. The police have accepted it.’

  ‘Why should they?’ George fumed. ‘If I were they, I should accept such an alibi with reserve—with great reserve. Naturally, a criminal always provides himself with an alibi! It is the duty of the police to break down the alibi—that is, if they know their job.’

  ‘Well, well,’ said Mr Charlton. ‘I don’t think it’s quite our business to teach the police their jobs, eh? Pretty competent body of men on the whole.’

  George shook his head darkly.

  ‘Scotland Yard should be called in. I’m not at all satisfied with Superintendent Sugden—he may be painstaking—but he is certainly far from brilliant.’

  Mr Charlton said:

  ‘I don’t agree with you, you know. Sugden’s a good man. Doesn’t throw his weight about, but he gets there.’

  Lydia said:

  ‘I’m sure the police are doing their best. Mr Charlton, will you have a glass of sherry?’

  Mr Charlton thanked h
er politely, but declined. Then, clearing his throat, he proceeded to the reading of the will, all members of the family being assembled.

  He read it with a certain relish, lingering over its more obscure phraseology, and savouring its legal technicalities.

  He came to the end, took off his glasses, wiped them, and looked round on the assembled company inquiringly.

  Harry Lee said:

  ‘All this legal stuff’s a bit hard to follow. Give us the bare bones of it, will you?’

  ‘Really,’ said Mr Charlton. ‘It’s a perfectly simple will.’

  Harry said:

  ‘My God, what’s a difficult will like then?’

  Mr Charlton rebuked him with a cold glance. He said:

  ‘The main provisions of the will are quite simple. Half Mr Lee’s property goes to his son, Mr Alfred Lee, the remainder is divided between his other children.’

  Harry laughed unpleasantly. He said:

  ‘As usual, Alfred’s struck lucky! Half my father’s fortune! Lucky dog, aren’t you, Alfred?’

  Alfred flushed. Lydia said sharply:

  ‘Alfred was a loyal and devoted son to his father. He’s managed the works for years and has had all the responsibility.’

  Harry said: ‘Oh, yes, Alfred was always the good boy.’

  Alfred said sharply:

  ‘You may consider yourself lucky, I think, Harry, that my father left you anything at all!’

  Harry laughed, throwing his head back. He said:

  ‘You’d have liked it better if he’d cut me right out, wouldn’t you? You’ve always disliked me.’

  Mr Charlton coughed. He was used—only too well used—to the painful scenes that succeeded the reading of a will. He was anxious to get away before the usual family quarrel got too well under way.

  He murmured:

  ‘I think—er—that that is all that I need—er—’

  Harry said sharply: ‘What about Pilar?’

  Mr Charlton coughed again, this time apologetically.

  ‘Er—Miss Estravados is not mentioned in the will.’

  Harry said: Doesn’t she get her mother’s share?’

  Mr Charlton explained.

  ‘Sen˜ora Estravados, if she had lived, would of course have received an equal share with the rest of you, but as she is dead, the portion that would have been hers goes back into the estate to be shared out between you.’

  Pilar said slowly in her rich Southern voice:

  ‘Then—I have—nothing?’

  Lydia said quickly:

  ‘My dear, the family will see to that, of course.’

  George Lee said:

  ‘You will be able to make your home here with Alfred—eh, Alfred? We—er—you are our niece—it is our duty to look after you.’

  Hilda said: ‘We shall always be glad to have Pilar with us.’

  Harry said:

  ‘She ought to have her proper share. She ought to have Jennifer’s whack.’

  Mr Charlton murmured:

  ‘Must really—er—be going. Goodbye, Mrs Lee—anything I can do—er—consult me at any time…’

  He escaped quickly. His experience enabled him to predict that all the ingredients for a family row were present.

  As the door shut behind him Lydia said in her clear voice:

  ‘I agree with Harry. I think Pilar is entitled to a definite share. This will was made many years before Jennifer’s death.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said George. ‘Very slipshod and illegal way of thinking, Lydia. The law’s the law. We must abide by it.’

  Magdalene said:

  ‘It’s hard luck, of course, and we’re all very sorry for Pilar, but George is right. As he says, the law is the law.’

  Lydia got up. She took Pilar by the hand.

  ‘My dear,’ she said. ‘This must be very unpleasant for you. Will you please leave us while we discuss the question?’

  She led the girl to the door.

  ‘Don’t worry, Pilar, dear,’ she said. ‘Leave it to me.’

  Pilar went slowly out of the room. Lydia shut the door behind her and turned back.

  There was a moment’s pause while everyone drew breath and in another moment the battle was in full swing.

  Harry said:

  ‘You’ve always been a damned skinflint, George.’

  George retorted:

  ‘At any rate, I’ve not been a sponge and a rotter!’

  ‘You’ve been just as much of a sponge as I have! You’ve battened on Father all these years.’

  ‘You seem to forget that I hold a responsible and arduous position which—’

  Harry said:

  ‘Responsible and arduous my foot! You’re only an inflated gasbag!’

  Magdalene screamed: ‘How dare you?’

  Hilda’s calm voice, slightly raised, said:

  ‘Couldn’t we just discuss this quietly?’

  Lydia threw her a grateful glance.

  David said with sudden violence:

  ‘Must we have all this disgraceful fuss over money!’

  Magdalene said venomously to him:

  ‘It’s all very well to be so high-minded. You’re not going to refuse your legacy, are you? You want money just as much as the rest of us do! All this unworldliness is just a pose!’

  David said in a strangled voice:

  ‘You think I ought to refuse it? I wonder—’

  Hilda said sharply:

  ‘Of course you oughtn’t. Must we all behave like children? Alfred, you’re the head of the family—’

  Alfred seemed to wake out of a dream. He said:

  ‘I beg your pardon. All of you shouting at once. It—it confuses me.’

  Lydia said:

  ‘As Hilda has just pointed out, why must we behave like greedy children? Let us discuss this thing quietly and sanely and’—she added this quickly—‘one thing at a time. Alfred shall speak first because he is the eldest. What do you think, Alfred, we should do about Pilar?’

  He said slowly:

  ‘She must make her home here, certainly. And we should make her an allowance. I do not see she has any legal claim to the money which would have gone to her mother. She’s not a Lee, remember. She’s a Spanish subject.’

  ‘No legal claim, no,’ said Lydia. ‘But I think she has a moral claim. As I see it, your father, although his daughter had married a Spaniard against his wishes, recognized her to have an equal claim upon him. George, Harry, David, and Jennifer were to share equally. Jennifer only died last year. I am sure that when he sent for Mr Charlton, he meant to make ample provision for Pilar in a new will. He would have allotted her at least her mother’s share. It is possible that he might have done much more than that. She was the only grandchild, remember. I think the least we can do is to endeavour to remedy any injustice that your father himself was preparing to remedy.’

  Alfred said warmly:

  ‘Well put, Lydia! I was wrong. I agree with you that Pilar must be given Jennifer’s share of my father’s fortune.’

  Lydia said: ‘Your turn, Harry.’

  Harry said:

  ‘As you know, I agree. I think Lydia has put the case very well, and I’d like to say I admire her for it.’

  Lydia said:

  ‘George?’

  George was red in the face. He spluttered:

  ‘Certainly not! Whole thing’s preposterous! Give her a home and a decent dress allowance. Quite enough for her!’

  ‘Then you refuse to co-operate?’ asked Alfred.

 

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