西班牙箱子之谜6

"Anybody noticed anything at all odd about Rich's manner that evening?""Oh well, you know what people are. Once a thing has happened, people think they noticed a lotof things I bet they never saw at all. Mrs. Spence, now, she says he was distrait¹ all the evening.

Didn't always answer to the point. As though he had 'something on his mind.' I bet he had, too, ifhe had a body in the chest! Wondering how the hell to get rid of it!""Why didn't he get rid of it?""Beats me. Lost his nerve, perhaps. But it was madness to leave it until the next day. He had thebest chance he'd ever have that night. There's no night porter on. He could have got his car round,packed the body in the boot - it's a big boot - driven out in the country and parked it somewhere.

He might have been seen getting the body into the car, but the flats are in a side street and there's acourtyard you drive a car through. At, say, three in the morning, he had a reasonable chance. Andwhat does he do? Goes to bed, sleeps late the next morning and wakes up to find the police in theflat!""He went to bed and slept well as an innocent man might do.""Have it that way if you like. But do you really believe that yourself?""I shall have to leave that question until I have seen the man myself.""Think you know an innocent man when you see one? It's not so easy as that.""I know it is not easy - and I should not attempt to say I could do it. What I want to make up mymind about is whether the man is as stupid as he seems to be."Poirot had no intention of seeing Charles Rich until he had seen everyone else.

He started with Commander McLaren.

McLaren was a tall, swarthy, uncommunicative man. He had a rugged² but pleasant face. He was ashy man and not easy to talk to. But Poirot persevered³.

Fingering Margharita's note, McLaren said almost reluctantly:

"Well, if Margharita wants me to tell you all I can, of course I'll do so. Don't know what there is totell, though. You've heard it all already. But whatever Margharita wants - I've always done whatshe wanted - ever since she was sixteen. She's got a way with her, you know.""I know," said Poirot. He went on. "First I should like you to answer a question quite frankly⁴. Doyou think Major Rich is guilty?""Yes, I do. I wouldn't say so to Margharita if she wants to think he's innocent, but I simply can'tsee it any other way. Hang it all, the fellow's got to be guilty.""Was there bad feeling between him and Mr. Clayton?""Not in the least. Arnold and Charles were the best of friends. That's what makes the whole thingso extraordinary.""Perhaps Major Rich's friendship with Mrs. Clayton -"He was interrupted.

"Faugh! All that stuff. All the papers slyly hinting at it. Damned innuendoes⁵! Mrs. Clayton andRich were good friends and that's all! Margharita's got lots of friends. I'm her friend. Been one foryears. And nothing the whole world mightn't know about it. Same with Charles and Margharita.""You do not then consider that they were having an affair together?""Certainly not!" McLaren was wrathful. "Don't go listening to that hellcat Spence woman. She'dsay anything.""But perhaps Mr. Clayton suspected there might be something between his wife and Major Rich.""You can take it from me he did nothing of the sort! I'd have known if so. Arnold and I were veryclose.""What sort of man was he? You, if anyone, should know.""Well, Arnold was a quiet sort of chap. But he was clever - quite brilliant, I believe. What they calla first-class financial brain. He was quite high up in the Treasury⁶, you know.""So I have heard.""He read a good deal. And he collected stamps. And he was extremely fond of music. He didn'tdance, or care much for going out.""Was it, do you think, a happy marriage?"

Commander McLaren's answer did not come quickly. He seemed to be puzzling it out.

"That sort of thing's very hard to say... Yes, I think they were happy. He was devoted⁷ to her in hisquiet way. I'm sure she was fond of him. They weren't likely to split up, if that's what you'rethinking. They hadn't, perhaps, a lot in common."Poirot nodded. It was as much as he was likely to get. He said: "Now tell me about that lastevening. Mr. Clayton dined with you at the club. What did he say?""Told me he'd got to go to Scotland. Seemed vexed⁸ about it. We didn't have dinner, by the way.

No time. Just sandwiches and a drink. For him, that is. I had only the drink. I was going out to abuffet supper, remember.""Mr. Clayton mentioned a telegram?"

"Yes."

"He did not actually show you the telegram?"

"No."

"Did he say he was going to call on Rich?"

"Not definitely. In fact he said he doubted if he'd have time. He said, 'Margharita can explain oryou can,' And then he said, 'See she gets home all right, won't you?' Then he went off. It was allquite natural and easy.""He had no suspicion at all that the telegram wasn't genuine?""Wasn't it?" Commander McLaren looked startled.

"Apparently⁹ not."

"How very odd -" Commander McLaren went into a kind of coma¹⁰, emerging suddenly to say:

"But that really is odd. I mean, what's the point? Why should anybody want him to go toScotland?""It is a question that needs answering, certainly."Hercule Poirot left, leaving the commander apparently still puzzling on the matter.

The Spences lived in a minute house in Chelsea.

Linda Spence received Poirot with the utmost delight.

"Do tell me," she said. "Tell me all about Margharita! Where is she?""That I am not at liberty to state, madame.""She has hidden herself well! Margharita is very clever at that sort of thing. But she'll be called togive evidence at the trial, I suppose? She can't wiggle herself out of that."Poirot looked at her appraisingly¹¹. He decided¹² grudgingly¹³ that she was attractive in the modernstyle (which at that moment resembled an underfed orphan¹⁴ child). It was not a type he admired.

The artistically¹⁵ disordered hair fluffed out round her head, a pair of shrewd eyes watched him froma slightly dirty face devoid¹⁶ of makeup¹⁷ save for a vivid cerise mouth. She wore an enormous paleyellow sweater hanging almost to her knees, and tight black trousers.

"What's your part in all this?" demanded Mrs. Spence. "Get the boyfriend out of it somehow? Isthat it? What a hope!""You think then, that he is guilty?"

"Of course. Who else?"

That, Poirot thought, was very much the question. He parried it by asking another question.

"What did Major Rich seem like to you on that fatal evening? As usual? Or not as usual?"Linda Spence screwed up her eyes judicially¹⁸.

"No, he wasn't himself. He was - different."

"How different?"

"Well, surely, if you've just stabbed a man in cold blood -""But you were not aware at the time that he had just stabbed a man in cold blood, were you?""No, of course not.""So how did you account for his being 'different'? In what way?""Well - distrait. Oh, I don't know. But thinking it over afterwards I decided that there haddefinitely been something."Poirot sighed.

"Who arrived first?"

"We did, Jim and I. And then Jock. And finally Margharita.""When was Mr. Clayton's departure for Scotland first mentioned?""When Margharita came. She said to Charles: 'Arnold's terribly sorry. He's had to rush off toEdinburgh by the night train.' And Charles said: 'Oh, that's too bad.' And then Jock said: 'Sorry.

Thought you already knew.' And then we had drinks.""Major Rich at no time mentioned seeing Mr. Clayton that evening? He said nothing of his havingcalled in on his way to the station?""Not that I heard."

"It was strange, was it not," said Poirot, "about that telegram?""What was strange?""It was a fake. Nobody in Edinburgh knows anything about it.""So that's it. I wondered at the time.""You have an idea about the telegram?"

"I should say it rather leaps to the eye."

"How do you mean exactly?"

"My dear man," said Linda. "Don't play the innocent. Unknown hoaxer¹⁹ gets the husband out of theway! For that night, at all events, the coast is clear.""You mean that Major Rich and Mrs. Clayton planned to spend the night together.""You have heard of such things, haven't you?"Linda looked amused.

 

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