弱者的愤怒6

"The crime was committed with one of these native clubs," he explained. "A tremendously heavything. Death must have been practically instantaneous.""That strengthens the conviction that the crime was not premeditated. A sharp quarrel, and aweapon snatched up almost unconsciously.""Yes, it does not look well for poor Leverson.""And the body was found fallen forward on the desk?""No, it had slipped sideways to the ground.""Ah," said Poirot, "that is curious."

"Why curious?" asked the secretary.

"Because of this."

Poirot pointed¹ to a round irregular stain on the polished surface of the writing table.

"That is a blood stain mon ami,"

"It may have splattered there," suggested Trefusis, "or it may have been made later, when theymoved the body.""Very possibly, very possibly," said the little man. "There is only the one door to this room?""There is a staircase here."Trefusis pulled aside a velvet² curtain in the corner of the room nearest the door, where a smallspiral staircase led upward.

"This place was originally built by an astronomer³. The stairs lead up to the tower where thetelescope was fixed⁴. Sir Reuben had the place fitted up as a bedroom, and sometimes slept there ifhe was working very late."Poirot went nimbly up the steps. The circular room upstairs was plainly furnished, with a campbed, a chair and dressing-table. Poirot satisfied himself that there was no other exit, and then camedown again to where Trefusis stood waiting for him.

"Did you hear Mr Leverson come in?" he asked.

Trefusis shook his head.

"I was fast asleep by that time."

Poirot nodded. He looked slowly round the room.

"Eh bien!" he said at last. "I do not think there is any thing further here, unless - perhaps youwould be so kind as to draw the curtains."Obediently Trefusis pulled the heavy black curtains across the window at the far end of the room.

Poirot switched on the light - which was masked by a big alabaster⁵ bowl hanging from the ceiling.

"There was a desk light?" he asked.

For reply the secretary clicked on a powerful green-shaded hand lamp, which stood on the writingtable. Poirot switched the other light off, then on, then off again.

"C'est bien! I have finished here."

"Dinner is at half-past seven," murmured the secretary.

"I thank you, M. Trefusis, for your many amiabilities.""Not at all."Poirot went thoughtfully along the corridor to the room appointed for him. The immovable Georgewas there laying out his master's things.

"My good George," he said presently, "I shall, I hope, meet at dinner a certain gentleman whobegins to intrigue⁶ me greatly. A man who has come home from the tropics, George. With atropical temper - so it is said. A man whom Parsons tries to tell me about, and whom LilyMargrave does not mention. The late Sir Reuben had a temper of his own, George. Supposingsuch a man to come into contact with a man whose temper was worse than his own - how do yousay it? The fur would jump about, eh?""'Would fly' is the correct expression, sir, and it is not always the case, sir, not by a long way.""No?""No, sir. There was my Aunt Jemima, sir, a most shrewish tongue she had, bullied⁷ a poor sister ofhers who lived with her, something shocking she did. Nearly worried the life out of her. But ifanyone came along who stood up to her, well, it was a very different thing. It was meekness⁸ shecouldn't bear.""Ha!" said Poirot, "it is suggestive - that."George coughed apologetically.

"Is there anything I can do in any way," he inquired delicately, "to - er - assist you, sir?""Certainly," said Poirot promptly⁹. "You can find out for me what color evening dress Miss LilyMargrave wore that night, and which housemaid attends her."George received these commands with his usual stolidity¹⁰.

"Very good. sir, I will have the information for you in the morning."Poirot rose from his seat and stood gazing into the fire.

"You are very useful to me, George," he murmured. "Do you know, I shall not forget your AuntJemima?"Poirot did not, after all, see Victor Astwell that night. A telephone message came from him that hewas detained in London.

"He attends to the affairs of your late husband's business, eh?" asked Poirot of Lady Astwell.

"Victor is a partner," she explained. "He went out to Africa to look into some mining concessionsfor the firm. It was mining, wasn't it, Lily?""Yes, Lady Astwell.""Gold mines, I think, or was it copper¹¹ or tin? You ought to know, Lily, you were always askingReuben questions about it all. Oh, do be careful, dear, you will have that vase over!""It is dreadfully hot in here with the fire," said the girl. "Shall I - shall I open the window a little?""If you like, dear," said Lady Astwell placidly¹².

Poirot watched while the girl went across to the window and opened it. She stood there a minuteor two breathing in the cool night air. When she returned and sat down in her seat, Poirot said toher politely:

"So Mademoiselle is interested in mines?"

"Oh, not really," said the girl indifferently, "I listened to Sir Reuben, but I don't know anythingabout the subject.""You pretended very well, then," said Lady Astwell. "Poor Reuben actually thought you had someulterior motive¹³ in asking all those questions."The little detective's eyes had not moved from the fire, into which he was steadily¹⁴ staring, butnevertheless, he did not miss the quick flush of vexation on Lily Margrave's face. Tactfully hechanged the conversation. When the hour for good nights came, Poirot said to his hostess:

"May I have just two little words with you, Madame?"Lily Margrave vanished discreetly¹⁶. Lady Astwell looked inquiringly at the detective.

"You were the last person to see Sir Reuben alive that night?"She nodded. Tears sprang into her eyes, and she hastily held a black-edged handkerchief to them.

"Ah, do not distress¹⁷ yourself, I beg of you do not distress yourself.""It's all very well, M. Poirot, but I can't help it.""I am a triple imbecile thus to vex¹⁵ you.""No, no, go on. What were you going to say?"

"It was about 11 o'clock, I fancy, when you went into the Tower room, and Sir Reuben dismissedMr Trefusis. Is that right?""It must have been about then."

"How long were you with him?"

"It was just a quarter to twelve when I got up to my room; I remember glancing at the clock.""Lady Astwell, will you tell me what your conversation with your husband was about?"Lady Astwell sank down on the sofa and broke down completely. Her sobs¹⁸ were vigorous.

"We - qua - qua - quarreled," she moaned.

"What about?" Poirot's voice was coaxing¹⁹, almost tender.

"L - l - lots of things. It b - b - began with L - Lily. Reuben took a dislike to her - for no reason,and said he had caught her interfering²⁰ with his papers. He wanted to send her away, and I said shewas a dear girl, and I would not have it. And then he s - s - started shouting me down, and Iwouldn't have that, so I just told him what I thought of him.

"Not that I really meant it, M. Poirot, and he said he had taken me out of the gutter²¹ to marry me,and I said - ah, but what does it all matter now? I shall never forgive myself. You know how it is,M Poirot, I always did say a good row clears the air, and how was I to know someone was goingto murder him that very night? Poor old Reuben."Poirot had listened sympathetically to all this outburst.

 

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