Twenty-seven

BEGINNING OF A JOURNEY

“Bismillahi ar rahman ar rahim. That is the Arab phrase used before starting out on a journey. Ehbien, we too start on a journey. A journey into the past. A journey into the strange places of thehuman soul.”

I don’t think that up till that moment I’d ever felt any of the so-called “glamour of the East.”

Frankly¹, what had struck me was the mess everywhere. But suddenly, with M.?Poirot’s words, aqueer sort of vision seemed to grow up before my eyes. I thought of words like Samarkand andIspahan—and of merchants with long beards—and kneeling camels—and staggering porterscarrying great bales on their backs held by a rope round the forehead—and women with henna-stained hair and tattooed² faces kneeling by the Tigris and washing clothes, and I heard their queerwailing chants and the far-off groaning³ of the waterwheel.

They were mostly things I’d seen and heard and thought nothing much of. But now,somehow they seemed different — like a piece of fusty old stuff you take into the light andsuddenly see the rich colours of an old embroidery⁴. .?.?.

Then I looked round the room we were sitting in and I got a queer feeling that what M.?Poirotsaid was true—we were all starting on a journey. We were here together now, but we were allgoing our different ways.

And I looked at everyone as though, in a sort of way, I were seeing them for the first time—and for the last time—which sounds stupid, but it was what I felt all the same.

Mr.?Mercado was twisting his fingers nervously⁶ — his queer light eyes with their dilatedpupils were staring at Poirot. Mrs.?Mercado was looking at her husband. She had a strangewatchful look like a tigress waiting to spring. Dr.?Leidner seemed to have shrunk in some curiousfashion. This last blow had just crumpled⁷ him up. You might almost say he wasn’t in the room atall. He was somewhere far away in a place of his own. Mr.?Coleman was looking straight atPoirot. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes protruded⁸. He looked almost idiotic⁹. Mr.?Emmottwas looking down at his feet and I couldn’t see his face properly. Mr.?Reiter looked bewildered.

His mouth was pushed out in a pout¹⁰ and that made him look more like a nice clean pig than ever.

Miss?Reilly was looking steadily¹¹ out of the window. I don’t know what she was thinking orfeeling. Then I looked at Mr.?Carey, and somehow his face hurt me and I looked away. There wewere, all of us. And somehow I felt that when M.?Poirot had finished we’d all be somewhere quitedifferent. .?.?.

It was a queer feeling. .?.?.

Poirot’s voice went quietly on. It was like a river running evenly between its banks .?.?.

running to the sea. .?.?.

“From the very beginning I have felt that to understand this case one must seek not forexternal signs or clues, but for the truer clues of the clash of personalities¹² and the secrets of theheart.

“And I may say that though I have now arrived at what I believe to be the true solution of thecase, I have no material proof of it. I know it is so, because it must be so, because in no other waycan every single fact fit into its ordered and recognized place.

“And that, to my mind, is the most satisfying solution there can be.”

He paused and then went on:

“I will start my journey at the moment when I myself was brought into the case—when I hadit presented to me as an accomplished¹³ happening. Now, every case, in my opinion, has a definiteshape and form. The pattern of this case, to my mind, all revolved¹⁴ round the personality ofMrs.?Leidner. Until I knew exactly what kind of a woman Mrs.?Leidner was I should not be able toknow why she was murdered and who murdered her.

“That, then, was my starting point—the personality of Mrs. Leidner.

“There was also one other psychological point of interest — the curious state of tensiondescribed as existing amongst the members of the expedition. This was attested¹⁵ to by severaldifferent witnesses—some of them outsiders—and I made a note that although hardly a startingpoint, it should nevertheless be borne in mind during my investigations¹⁶.

“The accepted idea seemed to be that it was directly the result of Mrs.?Leidner’s influence onthe members of the expedition, but for reasons which I will outline to you later this did not seem tome entirely¹⁷ acceptable.

“To start with, as I say, I concentrated solely¹⁸ and entirely on the personality of Mrs.?Leidner.

I had various means of assessing that personality. There were the reactions she produced in anumber of people, all varying widely in character and temperament¹⁹, and there was what I couldglean by my own observation. The scope of the latter was naturally limited. But I did learn certainfacts.

“Mrs.?Leidner’s tastes were simple and even on the austere²⁰ side. She was clearly not aluxurious woman. On the other hand, some embroidery she had been doing was of an extremefineness and beauty. That indicated a woman of fastidious and artistic²¹ taste. From the observationof the books in her bedroom I formed a further estimate. She had brains, and I also fancied that shewas, essentially²², an egoist.

“It had been suggested to me that Mrs.?Leidner was a woman whose main preoccupation wasto attract the opposite sex—that she was, in fact, a sensual woman. This I did not believe to be thecase.

“In her bedroom I noticed the following books on a shelf: Who were the Greeks?,Introduction to Relativity, Life of Lady Hester Stanhope, Back to Methuselah, Linda Condon,Crewe Train.

“She had, to begin with, an interest in culture and in modern science—that is, a distinctintellectual side. Of the novels, Linda Condon, and in a lesser²³ degree Crewe Train, seemed toshow that Mrs.?Leidner had a sympathy and interest in the independent woman—unencumbered orentrapped by man. She was also obviously interested by the personality of Lady Hester Stanhope.

Linda Condon is an exquisite²⁴ study of the worship of her own beauty by a woman. Crewe Train isa study of a passionate²⁵ individualist, Back to Methuselah is in sympathy with the intellectual ratherthan the emotional attitude to life. I felt that I was beginning to understand the dead woman.

“I next studied the reactions of those who had formed Mrs.?Leidner’s immediate²⁶ circle—andmy picture of the dead woman grew more and more complete.

“It was quite clear to me from the accounts of Dr.?Reilly and others that Mrs.?Leidner wasone of those women who are endowed by Nature not only with beauty but with the kind ofcalamitous magic which sometimes accompanies beauty and can, indeed, exist independently of it.

Such women usually leave a trail of violent happenings behind them. They bring disaster —sometimes on others—sometimes on themselves.

“I was convinced that Mrs.?Leidner was a woman who essentially worshipped herself andwho enjoyed more than anything else the sense of power. Wherever she was, she must be thecentre of the universe. And everyone round her, man or woman, had got to acknowledge her sway.

With some people that was easy. Nurse Leatheran, for instance, a generous-natured woman with aromantic imagination, was captured instantly and gave in ungrudging manner full appreciation²⁸.

But there was a second way in which Mrs.?Leidner exercised her sway—the way of fear. Whereconquest was too easy she indulged a more cruel side to her nature—but I wish to reiterateemphatically that it was not what you might call conscious cruelty. It was as natural andunthinking as is the conduct of a cat with a mouse. Where consciousness came in, she wasessentially kind and would often go out of her way to do kind and thoughtful actions for otherpeople.

“Now of course the first and most important problem to solve was the problem of theanonymous letters. Who had written them and why? I asked myself: Had Mrs.?Leidner writtenthem herself?

“To answer this problem it was necessary to go back a long way—to go back, in fact, to thedate of Mrs.?Leidner’s first marriage. It is here we start on our journey proper. The journey ofMrs.?Leidner’s life.

“First of all we must realize that the Louise Leidner of all those years ago is essentially thesame Louise Leidner of the present time.

“She was young then, of remarkable³⁰ beauty—that same haunting beauty that affects a man’sspirit and senses as no mere³¹ material beauty can—and she was already essentially an egoist.

“Such women naturally revolt from the idea of marriage. They may be attracted by men, butthey prefer to belong to themselves. They are truly La Belle³² Dame³³ sans Merci of the legend.

Nevertheless Mrs.?Leidner did marry—and we can assume, I think, that her husband must havebeen a man of a certain force of character.

“Then the revelation of his traitorous³⁴ activities occurs and Mrs.?Leidner acts in the way shetold Nurse Leidner. She gave information to the Government.

“Now I submit that there was a psychological significance in her action. She told NurseLeatheran that she was a very patriotic³⁵ idealistic girl and that that feeling was the cause of heraction. But it is a well-known fact that we all tend to deceive ourselves as to the motives³⁷ for ourown actions. Instinctively³⁸ we select the best-sounding motive³⁶! Mrs.?Leidner may have believedherself that it was patriotism³⁹ that inspired her action, but I believe myself that it was really theoutcome of an unacknowledged desire to get rid of her husband! She disliked domination—shedisliked the feeling of belonging to someone else—in fact she disliked playing second fiddle⁴⁰. Shetook a patriotic way of regaining⁴¹ her freedom.

“But underneath⁴² her consciousness was a gnawing⁴³ sense of guilt⁴⁴ which was to play its part inher future destiny.

“We now come directly to the question of the letters. Mrs.?Leidner was highly attractive tothe male sex. On several occasions she was attracted by them—but in each case a threateningletter played its part and the affair came to nothing.

“Who wrote those letters? Frederick Bosner or his brother William or Mrs.?Leidner herself?

“There is a perfectly⁴⁵ good case for either theory. It seems clear to me that Mrs.?Leidner wasone of those women who do inspire devouring⁴⁶ devotions in men, the type of devotion which canbecome an obsession⁴⁷. I find it quite possible to believe in a Frederick Bosner to whom Louise, hiswife, mattered more than anything in the world! She had betrayed him once and he dared notapproach her openly, but he was determined⁴⁸ at least that she should be his or no one’s. Hepreferred her death to her belonging to another man.

“On the other hand, if Mrs.?Leidner had, deep down, a dislike of entering into the marriagebond, it is possible that she took this way of extricating⁴⁹ herself from difficult positions. She was ahuntress who, the prey⁵⁰ once attained⁵¹, had no further use for it! Craving⁵² drama in her life, sheinvented a highly satisfactory drama—a resurrected husband forbidding the banns! It satisfied herdeepest instincts. It made her a romantic figure, a tragic⁵³ heroine, and it enabled her not to marryagain.

“This state of affairs continued over a number of years. Every time there was any likelihoodof marriage—a threatening letter arrived.

“But now we come to a really interesting point. Dr.?Leidner came upon the scene—and noforbidding letter arrived! Nothing stood in the way of her becoming Mrs.?Leidner. Not until afterher marriage did a letter arrive.

“At once we ask ourselves—why?

“Let us take each theory in turn.

.?.?. “If Mrs.?Leidner wrote the letters herself the problem is easily explained. Mrs.?Leidnerreally wanted to marry Dr.?Leidner. And so she did marry him. But in that case, why did she writeherself a letter afterwards? Was her craving for drama too strong to be suppressed? And why onlythose two letters? After that no other letter was received until a year and a half later.

“Now take the other theory, that the letters were written by her first husband, FrederickBosner (or his brother). Why did the threatening letter arrive after the marriage? PresumablyFrederick could not have wanted her to marry Leidner. Why, then, did he not stop the marriage?

He had done so successfully on former occasions. And why, having waited till the marriage hadtaken place, did he then resume his threats?

“The answer, an unsatisfactory one, is that he was somehow or other unable to protest sooner.

He may have been in prison or he may have been abroad.

“There is next the attempted gas poisoning to consider. It seems extremely unlikely that itwas brought about by an outside agency. The likely persons to have staged it were Dr.?andMrs.?Leidner themselves. There seems no conceivable reason why Dr.?Leidner should do such athing, so we are brought to the conclusion that Mrs.?Leidner planned and carried it out herself.

“Why? More drama?

“After that Dr.?and Mrs.?Leidner go abroad and for eighteen months they lead a happy,peaceful life with no threats of death to disturb it. They put that down to having successfullycovered their traces, but such an explanation is quite absurd. In these days going abroad is quiteinadequate for that purpose. And especially was that so in the case of the Leidners. He was thedirector of a museum expedition. By inquiry⁵⁴ at the museum, Frederick Bosner could at once haveobtained his correct address. Even granting that he was in too reduced circumstances to pursue thecouple himself there would be no bar to his continuing his threatening letters. And it seems to methat a man with his obsession would certainly have done so.

“Instead nothing is heard of him until nearly two years later when the letters are resumed.

“Why were the letters resumed?

“A very difficult question—most easily answered by saying that Mrs.?Leidner was bored andwanted more drama. But I was not quite satisfied with that. This particular form of drama seemedto me a shade too vulgar and too crude to accord well with her fastidious personality.

“The only thing to do was to keep an open mind on the question.

“There were three definite possibilities: (1) the letters were written by Mrs.?Leidner herself;(2) they were written by Frederick Bosner (or young William Bosner); (3) they might have beenwritten originally by either Mrs.?Leidner or her first husband, but they were now forgeries—thatis, they were being written by a third person who was aware of the earlier letters.

“I now come to direct consideration of Mrs.?Leidner’s entourage.

“I examined first the actual opportunities that each member of the staff had had forcommitting the murder.

“Roughly, on the face of it, anyone might have committed it (as far as opportunity went),with the exception of three persons.

“Dr.?Leidner, by overwhelming testimony⁵⁶, had never left the roof. Mr.?Carey was on duty atthe mound⁵⁷. Mr.?Coleman was in Hassanieh.

“But those alibis⁵⁸, my friends, were not quite as good as they looked. I except Dr.?Leidner’s.

There is absolutely no doubt that he was on the roof all the time and did not come down until quitean hour and a quarter after the murder had happened.

“But was it quite certain that Mr.?Carey was on the mound all the time?

“And had Mr.?Coleman actually been in Hassanieh at the time the murder took place?”

Bill Coleman reddened, opened his mouth, shut it and looked round uneasily.

Mr.?Carey’s expression did not change.

Poirot went on smoothly⁶⁰.

“I also considered one other person who, I satisfied myself, would be perfectly capable ofcommitting murder if she felt strongly enough. Miss?Reilly has courage and brains and a certainquality of ruthlessness. When Miss?Reilly was speaking to me on the subject of the dead woman, Isaid to her, jokingly, that I hoped she had an alibi⁵⁹. I think Miss?Reilly was conscious then that shehad had in her heart the desire, at least, to kill. At any rate she immediately uttered a very silly andpurposeless lie. She said she had been playing tennis on that afternoon. The next day I learnedfrom a casual conversation with Miss?Johnson that far from playing tennis, Miss?Reilly hadactually been near this house at the time of the murder. It occurred to me that Miss?Reilly, if notguilty of the crime, might be able to tell me something useful.”

He stopped and then said quietly: “Will you tell us, Miss?Reilly, what you did see thatafternoon?”

The girl did not answer at once. She still looked out of the window without turning her head,and when she spoke⁶¹ it was in a detached and measured voice.

“I rode out to the dig after lunch. It must have been about a quarter to two when I got there.”

“Did you find any of your friends on the dig?”

“No, there seemed to be no one there but the Arab foreman.”

“You did not see Mr.?Carey?”

“No.”

“Curious,” said Poirot. “No more did M. Verrier when he went there that same afternoon.”

He looked invitingly⁶² at Carey, but the latter neither moved nor spoke.

“Have you any explanation, Mr.?Carey?”

“I went for a walk. There was nothing of interest turn-ing up.”

“In which direction did you go for a walk?”

“Down by the river.”

“Not back towards the house?”

“No.”

“I suppose,” said Miss?Reilly, “that you were waiting for someone who didn’t come.”

He looked at her but didn’t answer.

Poirot did not press the point. He spoke once more to the girl.

“Did you see anything else, mademoiselle?”

“Yes. I was not far from the expedition house when I noticed the expedition lorry drawn⁶³ upin a wadi. I thought it was rather queer. Then I saw Mr.?Coleman. He was walking along with hishead down as though he were searching for something.”

“Look here,” burst out Mr.?Coleman, “I—”

Poirot stopped him with an authoritative⁶⁴ gesture.

“Wait. Did you speak to him, Miss?Reilly?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Why?”

The girl said slowly: “Because, from time to time, he started and looked round with anextraordinary furtive⁶⁵ look. It—gave me an unpleasant feeling. I turned my horse’s head and rodeaway. I don’t think he saw me. I was not very near and he was absorbed in what he was doing.”

“Look here,” Mr.?Coleman was not to be hushed any longer. “I’ve got a perfectly goodexplanation for what—I admit—looks a bit fishy⁶⁶. As a matter of fact, the day before I had slippeda jolly fine cylinder⁶⁷ seal into my coat pocket instead of putting it in the antika room—forgot allabout it. And then I discovered I’d been and lost it out of my pocket—dropped it somewhere. Ididn’t want to get into a row about it so I decided⁶⁸ I’d have a jolly good search on the quiet. I waspretty sure I’d dropped it on the way to or from the dig. I rushed over my business in Hassanieh.

Sent a walad to do some of the shopping and got back early. I stuck the bus where it wouldn’tshow and had a jolly good hunt for over an hour. And didn’t find the damned thing at that! Then Igot into the bus and drove on to the house. Naturally, everyone thought I’d just got back.”

“And you did not undeceive them?” asked Poirot sweetly.

“Well, that was pretty natural under the circumstances, don’t you think?”

“I hardly agree,” said Poirot.

“Oh, come now — don’t go looking for trouble — that’s my motto! But you can’t fastenanything on me. I never went into the courtyard, and you can’t find anyone who’ll say I did.”

“That, of course, has been the difficulty,” said Poirot. “The evidence of the servants that noone entered the courtyard from outside. But it occurred to me, upon reflection, that that was reallynot what they had said. They had sworn that no stranger had entered the premises⁶⁹. They had notbeen asked if a member of the expedition had done so.”

“Well, you ask them,” said Coleman. “I’ll eat my hat if they saw me or Carey either.”

“Ah! but that raises rather an interesting question. They would notice a stranger undoubtedly⁷⁰—but would they have even noticed a member of the expedition? The members of the staff arepassing in and out all day. The servants would hardly notice their going and coming. It is possible,I think, that either Mr.?Carey or Mr.?Coleman might have entered and the servants’ minds wouldhave no remembrance of such an event.”

“Bunkum!” said Mr.?Coleman.

Poirot went on calmly: “Of the two, I think Mr.?Carey was the least likely to be noticed goingor coming. Mr.?Coleman had started to Hassanieh in the car that morning and he would beexpected to return in it. His arrival on foot would therefore be noticeable.”

“Of course it would!” said Coleman.

Richard Carey raised his head. His deep-blue eyes looked straight at Poirot.

“Are you accusing me of murder, M.?Poirot?” he asked.

His manner was quite quiet but his voice had a dangerous undertone.

Poirot bowed to him.

“As yet I am only taking you all on a journey—my journey towards the truth. I had nowestablished one fact—that all the members of the expedition staff, and also Nurse Leatheran, couldin actual fact have committed the murder. That there was very little likelihood of some of themhaving committed it was a secondary matter.

“I had examined means and opportunity. I next passed to motive. I discovered that one andall of you could be credited with a motive!”

“Oh! M.?Poirot,” I cried. “Not me! Why, I was a stranger. I’d only just come.”

“Eh bien, ma soeur, and was not that just what Mrs.?Leidner had been fearing? A strangerfrom outside?”

“But—but—Why, Dr.?Reilly knew all about me! He suggested my coming!”

“How much did he really know about you? Mostly what you yourself had told him. Impostershave passed themselves off as hospital nurses before now.”

“You can write to St. Christopher’s,” I began.

“For the moment will you silence yourself. Impossible to proceed while you conduct thisargument. I do not say I suspect you now. All I say is that, keeping the open mind, you might quiteeasily be someone other than you pretended to be. There are many successful femaleimpersonators, you know. Young William Bosner might be something of that kind.”

I was about to give him a further piece of my mind. Female impersonator indeed! But heraised his voice and hurried on with such an air of determination that I thought better of it.

“I am going now to be frank — brutally⁷¹ so. It is necessary. I am going to lay bare theunderlying structure of this place.

“I examined and considered every single soul here. To begin with Dr.?Leidner, I soonconvinced myself that his love for his wife was the mainspring of his existence. He was a man tornand ravaged⁷² with grief. Nurse Leatheran I have already mentioned. If she were a femaleimpersonator she was a most amazingly successful one, and I inclined to the belief that she wasexactly what she said she was—a thoroughly⁷³ competent hospital nurse.”

“Thank you for nothing,” I interposed.

“My attention was immediately attracted towards Mr.?and Mrs.?Mercado, who were both ofthem clearly in a state of great agitation⁷⁴ and unrest. I considered first Mrs.?Mercado. Was shecapable of murder, and if so for what reasons?

“Mrs.?Mercado’s physique was frail⁷⁵. At first sight it did not seem possible that she could havehad the physical strength to strike down a woman like Mrs.?Leidner with a heavy stone implement⁷⁶.

If, however, Mrs.?Leidner had been on her knees at the time, the thing would at least be physicallypossible. There are ways in which one woman can induce another to go down on her knees. Oh!

not emotional ways! For instance, a woman might be turning up the hem⁵ of a skirt and ask anotherwoman to put in the pins for her. The second woman would kneel on the ground quiteunsuspectingly.

“But the motive? Nurse Leatheran had told me of the angry glances she had seenMrs.?Mercado direct at Mrs.?Leidner. Mr.?Mercado had evidently succumbed⁷⁷ easily toMrs.?Leidner’s spell. But I did not think the solution was to be found in mere jealousy⁷⁸. I was sureMrs.?Leidner was not in the least interested really in Mr.?Mercado—and doubtless Mrs.?Mercadowas aware of the fact. She might be furious with her for the moment, but for murder there wouldhave to be greater provocation⁷⁹. But Mrs.?Mercado was essentially a fiercely maternal⁸⁰ type. Fromthe way she looked at her husband I realized, not only that she loved him, but that she would fightfor him tooth and nail—and more than that—that she envisaged⁸¹ the possibility of having to do so.

She was constantly on her guard and uneasy. The uneasiness was for him—not for herself. Andwhen I studied Mr.?Mercado I could make a fairly easy guess at what the trouble was. I tookmeans to assure myself of the truth of my guess. Mr.?Mercado was a drug addict—in an advancedstage of the craving.

“Now I need probably not tell you all that the taking of drugs over a long period has the resultof considerably⁸² blunting the moral sense.

“Under the influence of drugs a man commits actions that he would not have dreamed ofcommitting a few years earlier before he began the practice. In some cases a man has committedmurder—and it has been difficult to say whether he was wholly responsible for his actions or not.

The law of different countries varies slightly on that point. The chief characteristic of the drug-fiend criminal is overweening confidence in his own cleverness.

“I thought it possible that there was some discreditable incident, perhaps a criminal incident,in Mr.?Mercado’s past which his wife had somehow or other succeeded in hushing up.

Nevertheless his career hung on a thread. If anything of this past incident were bruited⁸⁴ about,Mr.?Mercado would be ruined. His wife was always on the watch. But there was Mrs.?Leidner tobe reckoned with. She had a sharp intelligence and a love of power. She might even induce thewretched man to confide⁸³ in her. It would just have suited her peculiar⁸⁵ temperament to feel sheknew a secret which she could reveal at any minute with disastrous⁸⁶ effects.

“Here, then, was a possible motive for murder on the part of the Mercados. To protect hermate, Mrs.?Mercado, I felt sure, would stick at nothing! Both she and her husband had had theopportunity—during that ten minutes when the courtyard was empty.”

Mrs.?Mercado cried out, “It’s not true!”

Poirot paid no attention.

“I next considered Miss?Johnson. Was she capable of murder?

“I thought she was. She was a person of strong will and iron self-control. Such people areconstantly repressing themselves — and one day the dam bursts! But if Miss?Johnson hadcommitted the crime it could only be for some reason connected with Dr.?Leidner. If in any wayshe felt convinced that Mrs.?Leidner was spoiling her husband’s life, then the deepunacknowledged jealousy far down in her would leap at the chance of a plausible⁸⁷ motive and giveitself full rein⁸⁸.

“Yes, Miss?Johnson was distinctly a possibility.

“Then there were the three young men.

“First Carl Reiter. If, by any chance, one of the expedition staff was William Bosner, thenReiter was by far the most likely person. But if he was William Bosner, then he was certainly amost accomplished actor! If he were merely himself, had he any reason for murder?

“Regarded from Mrs.?Leidner’s point of view, Carl Reiter was far too easy a victim for goodsport. He was prepared to fall on his face and worship immediately. Mrs.?Leidner despisedundiscriminating adoration—and the doormat attitude nearly always brings out the worst side of awoman. In her treatment of Carl Reiter Mrs.?Leidner displayed really deliberate cruelty. Sheinserted a gibe⁸⁹ here—a prick⁹⁰ there. She made the poor young man’s life a hell to him.”

Poirot broke off suddenly and addressed the young man in a personal, highly confidentialmanner.

“Mon ami, let this be a lesson to you. You are a man. Behave, then, like a man! It is againstNature for a man to grovel⁹¹. Women and Nature have almost exactly the same reactions!

Remember it is better to take the largest plate within reach and fling it at a woman’s head than it isto wriggle⁹² like a worm whenever she looks at you!”

He dropped his private manner and reverted⁹³ to his lecture style.

“Could Carl Reiter have been goaded⁹⁴ to such a pitch of torment⁹⁵ that he turned on histormentor and killed her? Suffering does queer things to a man. I could not be sure that it was notso!

“Next William Coleman. His behaviour, as reported by Miss?Reilly, is certainly suspicious. Ifhe was the criminal it could only be because his cheerful personality concealed⁹⁶ the hidden one ofWilliam Bosner. I do not think William Coleman, as William Coleman, has the temperament of amurderer. His faults might lie in another direction. Ah! perhaps Nurse Leatheran can guess whatthey would be?”

How did the man do it? I’m sure I didn’t look as though I was thinking anything at all.

“It’s nothing really,” I said, hesitating. “Only if it’s to be all truth, Mr.?Coleman did say oncehimself that he would have made a good forger⁵⁵.”

“A good point,” said Poirot. “Therefore if he had come across some of the old threateningletters, he could have copied them without difficulty.”

“Oy, oy, oy!” called out Mr.?Coleman. “This is what they call a frame-up.”

Poirot swept on.

“As to his being or not being William Bosner, such a matter is difficult of verification. ButMr.?Coleman has spoken of a guardian—not of a father—and there is nothing definitely to vetothe idea.”

“Tommyrot,” said Mr.?Coleman. “Why all of you listen to this chap beats me.”

“Of the three young men there remains⁹⁷ Mr.?Emmott,” went on Poirot. “He again might be apossible shield for the identity of William Bosner. Whatever personal reasons he might have forthe removal of Mrs.?Leidner I soon realized that I should have no means of learning them fromhim. He could keep his own counsel remarkably⁹⁸ well, and there was not the least chance ofprovoking him nor of tricking him into betraying himself on any point. Of all the expedition heseemed to be the best and most dispassionate judge of Mrs.?Leidner’s personality. I think that healways knew her for exactly what she was—but what impression her personality made on him Iwas unable to discover. I fancy that Mrs.?Leidner herself must have been provoked and angered byhis attitude.

“I may say that of all the expedition, as far as character and capacity were concerned,Mr.?Emmott seemed to me the most fitted to bring a clever and well- timed crime offsatisfactorily.”

For the first time, Mr.?Emmott raised his eyes from the toes of his boots.

“Thank you,” he said.

There seemed to be just a trace of amusement in his voice.

“The last two people on my list were Richard Carey and Father Lavigny.

“According to the testimony of Nurse Leatheran and others, Mr.?Carey and Mrs.?Leidnerdisliked each other. They were both civil with an effort. Another person, Miss?Reilly, propoundeda totally different theory to account for their attitude of frigid⁹⁹ politeness.

“I soon had very little doubt that Miss?Reilly’s explanation was the correct one. I acquired mycertitude by the simple expedient¹⁰⁰ of provoking Mr.?Carey into reckless and unguarded speech. Itwas not difficult. As I soon saw, he was in a state of high nervous tension. In fact he was—and is—very near a complete nervous breakdown¹⁰¹. A man who is suffering up to the limit of his capacitycan seldom put up much of a fight.

“Mr.?Carey’s barriers came down almost immediately. He told me, with a sincerity¹⁰² that I didnot for a moment doubt, that he hated Mrs.?Leidner.

“And he was undoubtedly speaking the truth. He did hate Mrs.?Leidner. But why did he hateher?

“I have spoken of women who have a calamitous²⁷ magic. But men have that magic too. Thereare men who are able without the least effort to attract women. What they call in these days le sexappeal! Mr.?Carey had this quality very strongly. He was to begin with devoted¹⁰³ to his friend andemployer, and indifferent to his employer’s wife. That did not suit Mrs.?Leidner. She mustdominate — and she set herself out to capture Richard Carey. But here, I believe, somethingentirely unforeseen took place. She herself for perhaps the first time in her life, fell a victim to anovermastering passion. She fell in love—really in love—with Richard Carey.

“And he—was unable to resist her. Here is the truth of the terrible state of nervous tensionthat he has been enduring. He has been a man torn by two opposing passions. He loved LouiseLeidner—yes, but he also hated her. He hated her for undermining his loyalty¹⁰⁴ to his friend. Thereis no hatred¹⁰⁵ so great as that of a man who has been made to love a woman against his will.

“I had here all the motive that I needed. I was convinced that at certain moments the mostnatural thing for Richard Carey to do would have been to strike with all the force of his arm at thebeautiful face that had cast a spell over him.

“All along I had felt sure that the murder of Louise Leidner was a crime passionnel. InMr.?Carey I had found an ideal murderer for that type of crime.

“There remains one other candidate for the title of murderer—Father Lavigny. My attentionwas attracted to the good Father straightaway by a certain discrepancy¹⁰⁶ between his description ofthe strange man who had been seen peering in at the window and the one given by NurseLeatheran. In all accounts given by different witnesses there is usually some discrepancy, but thiswas absolutely glaring. Moreover, Father Lavigny insisted on a certain characteristic—a squint—which ought to make identification much easier.

“But very soon it became apparent that while Nurse Leatheran’s description wassubstantially accurate, Father Lavigny’s was nothing of the kind. It looked almost as thoughFather Lavigny was deliberately¹⁰⁷ misleading us—as though he did not want the man caught.

“But in that case he must know something about this curious person. He had been seentalking to the man but we had only his word for what they had been talking about.

“What had the Iraqi been doing when Nurse Leatheran and Mrs.?Leidner saw him? Trying topeer through the window—Mrs.?Leidner’s window, so they thought, but I realized when I wentand stood where they had been, that it might equally have been the antika room window.

“The night after that an alarm was given. Someone was in the antika room. Nothing proved tohave been taken, however. The interesting point to me is that when Dr.?Leidner got there he foundFather Lavigny there before him. Father Lavigny tells his story of seeing a light. But again wehave only his word for it.

“I begin to get curious about Father Lavigny. The other day when I make the suggestion thatFather Lavigny may be Frederick Bosner, Dr.?Leidner pooh-poohs the suggestion. He says FatherLavigny is a well-known man. I advance the supposition that Frederick Bosner, who has hadnearly twenty years to make a career for himself, under a new name, may very possibly be a well-known man by this time! All the same, I do not think that he has spent the intervening time in areligious community. A very much simpler solution presents itself.

“Did anyone at the expedition know Father Lavigny by sight before he came? Apparentlynot. Why then should not it be someone impersonating the good Father? I found out that atelegram had been sent to Carthage on the sudden illness of Dr.?Byrd, who was to haveaccompanied the expedition. To intercept¹⁰⁸ a telegram, what could be easier? As to the work, therewas no other epigraphist attached to the expedition. With a smattering of knowledge a clever manmight bluff¹⁰⁹ his way through. There had been very few tablets and inscriptions¹¹⁰ so far, and already Igathered that Father Lavigny’s pronouncements had been felt to be somewhat unusual.

“It looked very much as though Father Lavigny were an imposter.

“But was he Frederick Bosner?

“Somehow, affairs did not seem to be shaping themselves that way. The truth seemed likelyto lie in quite a different direction.

“I had a lengthy¹¹¹ conversation with Father Lavigny. I am a practising Catholic and I knowmany priests and members of religious communities. Father Lavigny struck me as not ringingquite true to his role. But he struck me, on the other hand, as familiar in quite a different capacity. Ihad met men of his type quite frequently—but they were not members of a religious community.

Far from it!

“I began to send off telegrams.

“And then, unwittingly, Nurse Leatheran gave me a valuable clue. We were examining thegold ornaments¹¹² in the antika room and she mentioned a trace of wax having been found adheringto a gold cup. Me, I say, ‘Wax?’ and Father Lavigny, he said ‘Wax?’ and his tone was enough! Iknew in a flash exactly what he was doing here.”

Poirot paused and addressed himself directly to Dr.?Leidner.

“I regret to tell you, monsieur, that the gold cup in the antika room, the gold dagger¹¹³, the hairornaments and several other things are not the genuine articles found by you. They are very cleverelectrotypes. Father Lavigny, I have just learned by this last answer to my telegrams, is none otherthan Raoul Menier, one of the cleverest thieves known to the French police. He specializes inthefts from museums of objets d’art and such like. Associated with him is Ali Yusuf, a semi-Turk,who is a first-class working jeweller. Our first knowledge of Menier was when certain objects inthe Louvre were found not to be genuine—in every case it was discovered that a distinguishedarchaeologist not known previously¹¹⁵ by sight to the director had recently had the handling of thespurious articles when paying a visit to the Louvre. On inquiry all these distinguished¹¹⁴ gentlemendenied having paid a visit to the Louvre at the times stated!

“I have learned that Menier was in Tunis preparing the way for a theft from the Holy Fatherswhen your telegram arrived. Father Lavigny, who was in ill health, was forced to refuse, butMenier managed to get hold of the telegram and substitute one of acceptance. He was quite safe indoing so. Even if the monks¹¹⁶ should read in some paper (in itself an unlikely thing) that FatherLavigny was in Iraq they would only think that the newspapers had got hold of a half-truth as sooften happens.

“Menier and his accomplice¹¹⁷ arrived. The latter is seen when he is reconnoitring the antikaroom from outside. The plan is for Father Lavigny to take wax impressions. Ali then makes cleverduplicates. There are always certain collectors who are willing to pay a good price for genuineantiques and will ask no embarrassing questions. Father Lavigny will effect the substitution of thefake for the genuine article—preferably at night.

“And that is doubtless what he was doing when Mrs.?Leidner heard him and gave the alarm.

What can he do? He hurriedly makes up a story of having seen a light in the antika room.

“That ‘went down,’ as you say, very well. But Mrs.?Leidner was no fool. She may haveremembered the trace of wax she had noticed and then put two and two together. And if she did,what will she do then? Would it not be dans son caracte“re to do nothing at once, but enjoyherself by letting hints slip to the discomfiture¹¹⁸ of Father Lavigny? She will let him see that shesuspects—but not that she knows. It is, perhaps, a dangerous game, but she enjoys a dangerousgame.

“And perhaps she plays that game too long. Father Lavigny sees the truth, and strikes beforeshe realizes what he means to do.

“Father Lavigny is Raoul Menier—a thief. Is he also—a murderer?”

Poirot paced the room. He took out a handkerchief, wiped his forehead and went on: “Thatwas my position this morning. There were eight distinct possibilities and I did not know which ofthese possibilities was the right one. I still did not know who was the murderer.

“But murder is a habit. The man or woman who kills once will kill again.

“And by the second murder, the murderer was delivered into my hands.

“All along it was ever present in the back of my mind that some one of these people mighthave knowledge that they had kept back—knowledge incriminating the murderer.

“If so, that person would be in danger.

“My solicitude¹¹⁹ was mainly on account of Nurse Leatheran. She had an energetic personalityand a brisk inquisitive¹²⁰ mind. I was terrified of her finding out more than it was safe for her toknow.

“As you all know, a second murder did take place. But the victim was not Nurse Leatheran—it was Miss?Johnson.

“I like to think that I should have reached the correct solution anyway by pure reasoning, butit is certain that Miss?Johnson’s murder helped me to it much quicker.

“To begin with, one suspect was eliminated—Miss?Johnson herself—for I did not for amoment entertain the theory of suicide.

“Let us examine now the facts of this second murder.

“Fact One: On Sunday evening Nurse Leatheran finds Miss Johnson in tears, and that sameevening Miss?Johnson burns a fragment of a letter which nurse believes to be in the samehandwriting as that of the anonymous²⁹ letters.

“Fact Two: The evening before her death Miss?Johnson is found by Nurse Leatheran standingon the roof in a state that nurse describes as one of incredulous horror. When nurse questions hershe says, ‘I’ve seen how someone could come in from outside—and no one would ever guess.’

She won’t say any more. Father Lavigny is crossing the courtyard and Mr.?Reiter is at the door ofthe photographic room.

“Fact Three: Miss?Johnson is found dying. The only words she can manage to articulate are‘the window—the window—’

“Those are the facts, and these are the problems with which we are faced:

“What is the truth of the letters?

“What did Miss?Johnson see from the roof?

“What did she mean by ‘the window—the window?’

“Eh bien, let us take the second problem first as the easiest of solution. I went up with NurseLeatheran and I stood where Miss?Johnson had stood. From there she could see the courtyard andthe archway and the north side of the building and two members of the staff. Had her wordsanything to do with either Mr.?Reiter or Father Lavigny?

“Almost at once a possible explanation leaped to my brain. If a stranger came in from outsidehe could only do so in disguise. And there was only one person whose general appearance lentitself to such an impersonation. Father Lavigny! With a sun helmet, sun glasses, black beard and amonk’s long woollen robe, a stranger could pass in without the servants realising that a strangerhad entered.

“Was that Miss?Johnson’s meaning? Or had she gone further? Did she realize that FatherLavigny’s whole personality was a disguise? That he was someone other than he pretended to be?

“Knowing what I did know about Father Lavigny, I was inclined to call the mystery solved.

Raoul Menier was the murderer. He had killed Mrs.?Leidner to silence her before she could givehim away. Now another person lets him see that she has penetrated¹²¹ his secret. She, too, must beremoved.

“And so everything is explained! The second murder. Father Lavigny’s flight—minus robeand beard. (He and his friend are doubtless careering through Syria with excellent passports as twocommercial travellers.) His action in placing the blood-stained quern under Miss?Johnson’s bed.

“As I say, I was almost satisfied — but not quite. For the perfect solution must explaineverything—and this does not do so.

“It does not explain, for instance, why Miss?Johnson should say ‘the window,’ as she wasdying. It does not explain her fit of weeping over the letter. It does not explain her mental attitudeon the roof—her incredulous horror and her refusal to tell Nurse Leatheran what it was that shenow suspected or knew.

“It was a solution that fitted the outer facts, but it did not satisfy the psychologicalrequirements.

“And then, as I stood on the roof, going over in my mind those three points: the letters, theroof, the window, I saw—just as Miss?Johnson had seen!

“And this time what I saw explained everything!”

 

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