Twenty-four

ELIMINATION¹ OF THREE MURDERERS?

On arrival in London, Superintendent² Battle came straight to Poirot. Anne and Rhoda had thenbeen gone an hour or more.

Without more ado, the superintendent recounted the result of his researches in Devonshire.

“We’re onto it—not a doubt of it,” he finished. “That’s what Shaitana was aiming at—with his‘domestic accident’ business. But what gets me is the motive³. Why did she want to kill thewoman?”

“I think I can help you there, my friend.”

“Go ahead, M. Poirot.”

“This afternoon I conducted a little experiment. I induced mademoiselle and her friend to comehere. I put to them my usual questions as to what there was in the room that night.”

Battle looked at him curiously⁴.

“You’re very keen on that question.”

“Yes, it’s useful. It tells me a good deal. Mademoiselle Meredith was suspicious — verysuspicious. She takes nothing for granted, that young lady. So that good dog, Hercule Poirot, hedoes one of his best tricks. He lays a clumsy amateurish⁵ trap. Mademoiselle mentions a case ofjewellery. I say was not that at the opposite end of the room from the table with the dagger⁶.

Mademoiselle does not fall into the trap. She avoids it cleverly. And after that she is pleased withherself, and her vigilance relaxes. So that is the object of this visit—to get her to admit that sheknew where the dagger was, and that she noticed it! Her spirits rise when she has, as she thinks,defeated me. She talked quite freely about the jewellery. She has noticed many details of it. Thereis nothing else in the room that she remembers—except that a vase of chrysanthemums⁷ needed itswater changing.”

“Well?” said Battle.

“Well, it is significant, that. Suppose we knew nothing about this girl. Her word would give us aclue to her character. She notices flowers. She is, then, fond of flowers? No, since she does notmention a very big bowl of early tulips which would at once have attracted the attention of aflower lover. No, it is the paid companion who speaks—the girl whose duty it has been to putfresh water in the vases—and, allied⁸ to that, there is a girl who loves and notices jewellery. Is notthat, at least, suggestive?”

“Ah,” said Battle. “I’m beginning to see what you’re driving at.”

“Precisely. As I told you the other day, I place my cards on the table. When you recounted herhistory the other day, and Mrs. Oliver made her startling announcement, my mind went at once toan important point. The murder could not have been committed for gain, since Miss Meredith hadstill to earn her living after it happened. Why, then? I considered Miss Meredith’s temperament⁹ asit appeared superficially. A rather timid young girl, poor, but well-dressed, fond of pretty things …The temperament, is it not, of a thief, rather than a murderer. And I asked immediately if Mrs.

Eldon had been a tidy woman. You replied that no, she had not been tidy. I formed a hypothesis.

Supposing that Anne Meredith was a girl with a weak streak¹⁰ in her character—the kind of girl whotakes little things from the big shops. Supposing that, poor, and yet loving pretty things, she helpedherself once or twice to things from her employer. A brooch, perhaps, an odd half crown or two, astring of beads¹¹. Mrs. Eldon, careless, untidy, would put down these disappearances¹² to her owncarelessness. She would not suspect her gentle little mother’s help. But, now, suppose a differenttype of employer—an employer who did notice—accused Anne Meredith of theft. That would bea possible motive for murder. As I said the other evening, Miss Meredith would only commit amurder through fear. She knows that her employer will be able to prove the theft. There is onlyone thing that can save her: her employer must die. And so she changes the bottles, and Mrs.

Benson dies—ironically enough convinced that the mistake is her own, and not suspecting for aminute that the cowed, frightened girl has had a hand in it.”

“It’s possible,” said Superintendent Battle. “It’s only a hypothesis, but it’s possible.”

“It is a little more than possible, my friend—it is also probable. For this afternoon I laid a littletrap nicely baited—the real trap—after the sham¹³ one had been circumvented¹⁴. If what I suspect istrue, Anne Meredith will never, never be able to resist a really expensive pair of stockings! I askher to aid me. I let her know carefully that I am not sure exactly how many stockings there are, Igo out of the room, leaving her alone—and the result, my friend, is that I have now seventeenpairs of stockings, instead of nineteen, and that two pairs have gone away in Anne Meredith’shandbag.”

“Whew!” Superintendent Battle whistled. “What a risk to take, though.”

“Pas du tout¹⁵. What does she think I suspect her of? Murder. What is the risk, then, in stealing apair, or two pairs, of silk stockings? I am not looking for a thief. And, besides, the thief, or thekleptomaniac, is always the same—convinced that she can get away with it.”

Battle nodded his head.

“That’s true enough. Incredibly stupid. The pitcher¹⁶ goes to the well time after time. Well, Ithink between us we’ve arrived fairly clearly at the truth. Anne Meredith was caught stealing.

Anne Meredith changed a bottle from one shelf to another. We know that was murder—but I’mdamned if we could ever prove it. Successful crime No. 2. Roberts gets away with it. AnneMeredith gets away with it. But what about Shaitana? Did Anne Meredith kill Shaitana?”

He remained silent for a moment or two, then he shook his head.

“It doesn’t work out right,” he said reluctantly. “She’s not one to take a risk. Change a couple ofbottles, yes. She knew no one could fasten that on her. It was absolutely safe—because anyonemight have done it! Of course, it mightn’t have worked. Mrs. Benson might have noticed beforeshe drank the stuff, or she mightn’t have died from it. It was what I call a hopeful kind of murder.

It might work or it mightn’t. Actually, it did. But Shaitana was a very different pair of shoes. Thatwas deliberate, audacious, purposeful murder.”

Poirot nodded his head.

“I agree with you. The two types of crime are not the same.”

Battle rubbed his nose.

“So that seems to wipe her out as far as he’s concerned. Roberts and the girl, both crossed offour list. What about Despard? Any luck with the Luxmore woman?”

Poirot narrated¹⁷ his adventures of the preceding afternoon.

Battle grinned.

“I know that type. You can’t disentangle what they remember from what they invent.”

Poirot went on. He described Despard’s visit, and the story the latter had told.

“Believe him?” Battle asked abruptly¹⁸.

“Yes, I do.”

Battle sighed.

“So do I. Not the type to shoot a man because he wanted the man’s wife. Anyway, what’swrong with the divorce court? Everyone flocks there. And he’s not a professional man; it wouldn’truin him, or anything like that. No, I’m of the opinion that our late lamented¹⁹ Mr. Shaitana struck asnag there. Murderer No. 3. wasn’t a murderer, after all.”

He looked at Poirot.

“That leaves—”

“Mrs. Lorrimer,” said Poirot.

The telephone rang. Poirot got up and answered it. He spoke²⁰ a few words, waited, spoke again.

Then he hung up the receiver and returned to Battle.

His face was very grave.

“That was Mrs. Lorrimer speaking,” he said. “She wants me to come round and see her—now.”

He and Battle looked at each other. The latter shook his head slowly.

“Am I wrong?” he said. “Or were you expecting something of the kind?”

“I wondered,” said Hercule Poirot. “That was all. I wondered.”

“You’d better get along,” said Battle. “Perhaps you’ll manage to get at the truth at last.”

 

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