大象的证词16

Chapter 16

Mr Goby Reports

Mr Goby came into the room and sat, as indicated by Poirot, in his usualchair. He glanced around him before choosing what particular piece offurniture or part of the room he was about to address. He settled, as oftenbefore, for the electric fire, not turned on at this time of year. Mr Goby hadnever been known to address the human being he was working for direc-tly. He selected always the cornice, a radiator, a television set, a clock,sometimes a carpet or a mat. Out of a briefcase he took a few papers.

‘Well,’ said Hercule Poirot, ‘you have something for me?’

‘I have collected various details,’ said Mr Goby.

Mr Goby was celebrated all over London, indeed possibly all over Eng-land and even further, as a great purveyor of information. How he per-formed these miracles nobody ever really quite knew. He employed a notexcessive staff. Sometimes he complained that his legs, as he sometimescalled them, were not as good as they used to be. But his results were stillable to astonish people who had commissioned them.

‘Mrs Burton-Cox,’ he said, announcing the name much as though he hadbeen the local churchwarden having his turn at reading the lessons. Hemight equally have been saying ‘Third verse, fourth chapter, the book ofIsaiah.’

‘Mrs Burton-Cox,’ he said again. ‘Married Mr Cecil Aldbury, manufac-turer of buttons on a large scale. Rich man. Entered politics, was MP forLittle Stansmere. Mr Cecil Aldbury was killed in a car accident four yearsafter their marriage. The only child of the marriage died in an accidentshortly afterwards. Mr Aldbury’s estate was inherited by his wife, but wasnot as much as had been expected since the firm had not been doing wellof late years. Mr Aldbury also left quite a considerable sum of money to aMiss Kathleen Fenn, with whom it seemed he had been having intimaterelations quite unknown to his wife. Mrs Burton-Cox continued her polit-ical career. Some three years after that she adopted a child which hadbeen born to Miss Kathleen Fenn. Miss Kathleen Fenn insisted that thechild was the son of the late Mr Aldbury. This, from what I have been ableto learn in my enquiries, is somewhat difficult to accept,’ continued MrGoby. ‘Miss Fenn had had many relationships, usually with gentlemen ofample means and generous dispositions, but after all, so many peoplehave their price, have they not? I’m afraid this is quite a serious bill I mayhave to send you in.’

‘Continue,’ said Hercule Poirot.

‘Mrs Aldbury, as she then was, agreed to adopt the child. A short whilelater she married Major Burton-Cox. Miss Kathleen Fenn became, I maysay, a most successful actress and pop singer and made a very largeamount of money. She then wrote to Mrs Burton-Cox saying she would bewilling to take back the adopted child. Mrs Burton-Cox refused. Mrs Bur-ton-Cox has been living quite comfortably since, I understand, Major Bur-ton-Cox was killed in Malaya. He left her moderately well off. A furtherpiece of information I have obtained is that Miss Kathleen Fenn, who dieda very short while ago – eighteen months, I think – left a Will by which herentire fortune, which amounted by then to a considerable sum of money,was left to her natural son Desmond, at present known under the name ofDesmond Burton-Cox.’

‘Very generous,’ said Poirot. ‘Of what did Miss Fenn die?’

‘My informant tells me that she contracted leukaemia.’

‘And the boy has inherited his mother’s money?’

‘It was left in trust for him to acquire at the age of twenty-five.’

‘So he will be independent, will have a substantial fortune? And MrsBurton-Cox?’

‘Has not been happy in her investments, it is understood. She has suffi-cient to live on but not much more.’

‘Has the boy Desmond made a Will?’ asked Poirot.

‘That,’ said Mr Goby, ‘I fear I do not know as yet. But I have certainmeans of finding out. If I do, I will acquaint you with the fact without lossof time.’

Mr Goby took his leave, absent-mindedly bowing a farewell to the elec-tric fire.

About an hour and a half later the telephone rang.

Hercule Poirot, with a sheet of paper in front of him, was making notes.

Now and then he frowned, twirled his moustaches, crossed something outand re-wrote it and then proceeded onward. When the telephone rang hepicked up the receiver and listened.

‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘that was quick work. Yes … yes, I’m grateful. Ireally do not know sometimes how you manage these things … Yes, thatsets out the position clearly. It makes sense of something that did notmake sense before … Yes … I gather … yes, I’m listening … you are prettysure that that is the case. He knows he is adopted … but he never has beentold who his real mother was … yes. Yes, I see … Very well. You will clearup the other point too? Thank you.’

He replaced the receiver and started once more writing down words. Inhalf an hour the telephone rang once more. Once again he picked up thephone.

‘I’m back from Cheltenham,’ said a voice which Poirot had no difficultyin recognizing.

‘Ah, chère madame, you have returned? You have seen Mrs Rosentelle?’

‘Yes. She is nice. Very nice. And you were quite right, you know, she isanother elephant.’

‘Meaning, chère madame?’

‘I mean that she remembered Molly Ravenscroft.’

‘And she remembered her wigs?’

‘Yes.’

Briefly she outlined what the retired hairdresser had told her about thewigs.

‘Yes,’ said Poirot, ‘that agrees. That is exactly what Superintendent Gar-roway mentioned to me. The four wigs that the police found. Curls, anevening type of head-dress, and two other plainer ones. Four.’

‘So I really only told you what you knew already?’

‘No, you told me something more than that. She said – that is what youtold me just now, is it not? – that Lady Ravenscroft wanted two extra wigsto add to the two that she already had and that this was about three weeksto six weeks before the suicide tragedy occurred. Yes, that is interesting, isit not?’

‘It’s very natural,’ said Mrs Oliver. ‘I mean, you know that people, wo-men, I mean, may do awful damage to things. To false hair and things ofthat kind. If it can’t be re-dressed and cleaned, if it’s got burnt or got stuffspilt on it you can’t get out, or it’s been dyed and dyed all wrong – some-thing like that – well then, of course you have to get two new wigs orswitches or whatever they are. I don’t see what makes you excited aboutthat.’

‘Not exactly excited,’ said Poirot, ‘no. It is a point, but the more interest-ing point is what you have just added. It was a French lady, was it not,who brought the wigs to be copied or matched?’

‘Yes. I gathered some kind of companion or something. LadyRavenscroft had been or was in hospital or in a nursing home somewhereand she was not in good health and she could not come herself to make achoice or anything of that kind.’

‘I see.’

‘And so her French companion came.’

‘Do you know the name of that companion by any chance?’

‘No. I don’t think Mrs Rosentelle mentioned it. In fact I don’t think sheknew. The appointment was made by Lady Ravenscroft and the Frenchgirl or woman just brought the wigs along for size and matching and allthe rest of it, I suppose.’

‘Well,’ said Poirot, ‘that helps me towards the further step that I amabout to take.’

‘What have you learnt?’ said Mrs Oliver. ‘Have you done anything?’

‘You are always so sceptical,’ said Poirot. ‘You always consider that I donothing, that I sit in a chair and repose myself.’

‘Well I think you sit in a chair and think,’ admitted Mrs Oliver, ‘but Iquite agree that you don’t often go out and do things.’

‘In the near future I think I may possibly go out and do things,’ said Her-cule Poirot, ‘and that will please you. I may even cross the Channel thoughcertainly not in a boat. A plane, I think is indicated.’

‘Oh,’ said Mrs Oliver. ‘Do you want me to come too?’

‘No,’ said Poirot, ‘I think it would be better if I went alone on this occa-sion.’

‘You really will go?’

‘Oh yes, oh yes. I will run about with all activity and so you should bepleased with me, madame.’

When he had rung off, he dialled another number which he looked upfrom a note he had made in his pocket-book. Presently he was connectedto the person whom he wished to speak to.

‘My dear Superintendent Garroway, it is Hercule Poirot who addressesyou. I do not derange you too much? You are not very busy at this mo-ment?’

‘No, I am not busy,’ said Superintendent Garroway. ‘I am pruning myroses, that’s all.’

‘There is something that I want to ask you. Quite a small thing.’

‘About our problem of the double suicide?’

‘Yes, about our problem. You said there was a dog in the house. You saidthat the dog went for walks with the family, or so you understood.’

‘Yes, there was some mention made of a dog. I think it may have beeneither the housekeeper or someone who said that they went for a walkwith the dog as usual that day.’

‘In examination of the body was there any sign that Lady Ravenscrofthad been bitten by a dog? Not necessarily very recently or on that particu-lar day?’

‘Well, it’s odd you should say that. I can’t say I’d have rememberedabout it if you hadn’t mentioned such a thing. But yes, there were a coupleof scars. Not bad ones. But again the housekeeper mentioned that the doghad attacked its mistress more than once and bitten her, though not veryseverely. Look here, Poirot, there was no rabies about, if that’s what youare thinking. There couldn’t have been anything of that kind. After all shewas shot – they were both shot. There was no question of any septic pois-oning or danger of tetanus.’

‘I do not blame the dog,’ said Poirot, ‘it was only something I wanted toknow.’

‘One dog bite was fairly recent, about a week before, I think, or twoweeks somebody said. There was no case of necessary injections or any-thing of that kind. It had healed quite well. What’s that quotation?’ wenton Superintendent Garroway. ‘“The dog it was that died.” I can’t rememberwhere it comes from but –’

‘Anyway, it wasn’t the dog that died,’ said Poirot. ‘That wasn’t the pointof my question. I would like to have known that dog. He was perhaps avery intelligent dog.’

After he had replaced the receiver with thanks to the Superintendent,Poirot murmured: ‘An intelligent dog. More intelligent perhaps than thepolice were.’

 

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