LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

And, of course, she was an old lady and— well—that’s how it was.’

      ‘In any case I suppose there was just the house and not much money?’

      I have often had occasion to notice how, where a direct question would fail to elicit a response, a false assumption brings instant information in the form of a contradiction.

      ‘Very far from that, sir. Very far indeed. Everyone was surprised at the amount the old lady left. The will was in the paper and the amount and everything. It seems she hadn’t lived up to her income[158] for many a long year. Something like three or four hundred thousand pounds she left.’

      ‘You astonish me,’ cried Poirot. ‘It is like a fairy tale— eh? The poor companion suddenly becomes unbelievably wealthy. Is she still young, this Miss Lawson? Can she enjoy her newfound wealth?’

      ‘Oh, no, sir, she’s a middle-aged person, sir.’

      His enunciation of the word person was quite an artistic performance. It was clear that Miss Lawson, ex-companion, had cut no kind of a figure[159] in Market Basing.

      ‘It must have been disappointing for the nephews and nieces,’ mused Poirot.

      ‘Yes, sir, I believe it came as somewhat of a shock to them. Very unexpected. There’s been feeling over it here in Market Basing. There are those who hold it isn’t right to leave things away from your own flesh and blood[160]. But, of course, there’s others as hold that everyone’s got a right to do as they like with their own. There’s something to be said for both points of view, of course.’

      ‘Miss Arundell had lived for many years here, had she not?’

      ‘Yes, sir. She and her sisters and old General Arundell, their father, before them. Not that I remember him, naturally, but I believe he was quite a character[161]. Was in the Indian Mutiny.’

      ‘There were several daughters?’

      ‘Three of them that I remember, and I believe there was one that married. Yes, Miss Matilda, Miss Agnes, and Miss Emily. Miss Matilda, she died first, and then Miss Agnes, and finally Miss Emily.’

      ‘That was quite recently?’

      ‘Beginning of May—or it may have been the end of April.’

      ‘Had she been ill some time?’

      ‘On and off[162]—on and off. She was on the sickly side[163]. Nearly went off[164] a year ago with that there jaundice. Yellow as an orange she was for some time after. Yes, she’d had poor health for the last five years of her life.’

      ‘I suppose you have some good doctors down here?’

      ‘Well, there’s Dr Grainger. Been here close on forty years, he has, and folks mostly go to him. He’s a bit crotchety and he has his fancies but he’s a good doctor, none better. He’s got a young partner, Dr Donaldson. He’s more the new-fangled kind. Some folk prefer him. Then, of course, there’s Dr Harding, but he doesn’t do much.’

      ‘Dr Grainger was Miss Arundell’s doctor, I suppose?’

      ‘Oh, yes. He’s pulled her through[165] many a bad turn. He’s the kind that fair bullies you into[166] living whether you want to or not.’

      Poirot nodded.

      ‘One should learn a little about a place before one comes to settle in it,’ he remarked. ‘A good doctor is one of the most important people.’

      ‘That’s very true, sir.’

      Poirot then asked for his bill to which he added a substantial tip.

      ‘Thank you, sir. Thank you very much, sir. I’m sure I hope you’ll settle here, sir.’

      ‘I hope so, too,’ said Poirot mendaciously.

      We set forth from the George.

      ‘Satisfied yet, Poirot?’ I asked as we emerged into the street.

      ‘Not in the least, my friend.’

      He turned in an unexpected direction.

      ‘Where are you off to now[167], Poirot?’

      ‘The church, my friend. It may be interesting. Some brasses—an old monument.’

      I shook my head doubtfully.

      Poirot’s scrutiny of the interior of the church was brief. Though an attractive specimen of what the guidebook calls Early Perp.[168], it had been so conscientiously restored in Victorian vandal days that little of interest remained.

      Poirot next wandered seemingly aimlessly about the churchyard reading some of the epitaphs, commenting on the number of deaths in certain families, occasionally exclaiming over the quaintness of a name.

      I was not surprised, however, when he finally halted before what I was pretty sure had been his objective from the beginning.

      An imposing marble slab bore a partly-effaced[169] inscription:

      SACRED

      TO THE MEMORY OF

      JOHN LAVERTON ARUNDELL

      GENERAL 24TH SIKHS

      WHO FELL ASLEEP IN CHRIST MAY 19TH 1888

      AGED 69

      ‘FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT[170]

      WITH ALL THY[171] MIGHT’

      ALSO OF

      MATILDA ANN ARUNDELL

      DIED MARCH 10TH 1912

      ‘I WILL ARISE AND GO TO MY FATHER’

      ALSO OF

      AGNES GEORGINA MARY ARUNDELL

      DIED NOVEMBER 20TH 1921

      ‘ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE[172]’

      Then came a brand new piece of lettering, evidently just done:

      ALSO OF

      EMILY HARRIET LAVERTON ARUNDELL

      DIED MAY 1ST 1936

      ‘THY WILL BE DONE’

      Poirot stood looking for some time.

      He murmured softly:

      ‘May 1st… May 1st… And today, June 28th, I receive her letter. You see, do you not, Hastings, that that fact has got to be explained?’

      I saw that it had.

      That is to say, I saw that Poirot was determined that it should be explained.

      CHAPTER 8. Interior of Littlegreen House

      On leaving the churchyard, Poirot led the way briskly in the direction of Littlegreen House. I gathered that his role was still that of the prospective purchaser. Carefully holding the various orders to view in his hand, with the Littlegreen House one uppermost, he pushed open the gate and walked up the path to the front door.

      On this occasion our friend the terrier was not to be seen, but the sound of barking could be heard inside the house, though at some distance—I guessed in the kitchen quarters.

      Presently we heard footsteps

Скачать книгу