Nineteen

VISIT TO MR. PURVIS

Poirot called for his bill and paid it.

“What do we do next?” I asked.

“We are going to do what you suggested earlier in the morning. We are going to Harchester tointerview Mr. Purvis. That is why I telephoned from the Durham Hotel.”

“You telephoned to Purvis?”

“No, to Theresa Arundell. I asked her to write me a letter of introduction to him. To approachhim with any chance of success we must be accredited¹ by the family. She promised to send itround to my flat by hand. It should be awaiting us there now.”

We found not only the letter but Charles Arundell who had brought it round in person.

“Nice place you have here, M. Poirot,” he remarked, glancing round the sitting room of the flat.

At that moment my eye was caught by an imperfectly shut drawer in the desk. A small slip ofpaper was preventing it from shutting.

Now if there was one thing absolutely incredible it was that Poirot should shut a drawer in sucha fashion! I looked thoughtfully at Charles. He had been alone in this room awaiting our arrival. Ihad no doubt that he had been passing the time by snooping among Poirot’s papers. What a youngcrook the fellow was! I felt myself burning with indignation.

Charles himself was in a most cheerful mood.

“Here we are,” he remarked, presenting a letter. “All present and correct—and I hope you’llhave more luck with old Purvis than we did.”

“He held out very little hope, I suppose?”

“Definitely discouraging… In his opinion the Lawson bird had clearly got away with thedoings.”

“You and your sister have never considered an appeal to the lady’s feelings?”

Charles grinned.

“I considered it—yes. But there seemed to be nothing doing. My eloquence⁴ was in vain. Thepathetic picture of the disinherited black sheep—and a sheep not so black as he was painted—(orso I endeavoured to suggest)—failed to move the woman! You know, she definitely seems todislike me! I don’t know why.” He laughed. “Most old women fall for me quite easily. They thinkI’ve never been properly understood and that I’ve never had a fair chance!”

“A useful point of view.”

“Oh, it’s been extremely useful before now. But, as I say, with the Lawson, nothing doing. Ithink she’s rather anti-man. Probably used to chain herself to railings and wave a suffragette flagin good old prewar days.”

“Ah, well,” said Poirot, shaking his head. “If simpler methods fail—”

“We must take to crime,” said Charles cheerfully.

“Aha,” said Poirot. “Now, speaking of crime, young man, is it true that you threatened youraunt—that you said that you would ‘bump her off,’ or words to that effect?”

Charles sat down in a chair, stretched his legs out in front of him and stared hard at Poirot.

“Now who told you that?” he said.

“No matter. Is it true?”

“Well, there are elements of truth about it.”

“Come, come, let me hear the story—the true story, mind.”

“Oh, you can have it, sir. There was nothing melodramatic about it. I’d been attempting a touch—if you gather what I mean.”

“I comprehend.”

“Well, that didn’t go according to plan. Aunt Emily intimated that any efforts to separate herand her money would be quite unavailing! Well, I didn’t lose my temper, but I put it to her plainly.

‘Now look here, Aunt Emily,’ I said, ‘you know, you’re going about things in such a way thatyou’ll end by getting bumped off!’ She said, rather sniffily, what did I mean. ‘Just that,’ I said.

‘Here are your friends and relations all hanging around with their mouths open, all as poor aschurch mice—whatever church mice may be—all hoping. And what do you do? Sit down on thedibs and refuse to part. That’s the way people get themselves murdered. Take it from me, if you’rebumped off, you’ll only have yourself to blame.’

“She looked at me then, over the top of her spectacles in a way she had. Looked at me rathernastily. ‘Oh,’ she said drily enough, ‘so that’s your opinion, is it?’ ‘It is,’ I said. ‘You loosen up abit, that’s my advice to you.’ ‘Thank you, Charles,’ she said, ‘for your well-meant advice. But Ithink you’ll find I’m well able to take care of myself.’ ‘Please yourself, Aunt Emily,’ I said. I wasgrinning all over my face—and I fancy she wasn’t as grim as she tried to look. ‘Don’t say I didn’twarn you.’ ‘I’ll remember it,’ she said.”

He paused.

“That’s all there was to it.”

“And so,” said Poirot, “you contented⁵ yourself with a few pound notes you found in a drawer.”

Charles stared at him, then burst out laughing.

“I take off my hat to you,” he said. “You’re some sleuth! How did you get hold of that?”

“It is true, then?”

“Oh, it’s true enough! I was damned hard up. Had to get money somewhere. Found a nice littlewad of notes in a drawer and helped myself to a few. I was very modest—didn’t think my littlesubtraction would be noticed. Even then, they’d probably think it was the servants.”

Poirot said drily:

“It would be very serious for the servants if such an idea had been entertained.”

Charles shrugged⁶ his shoulders.

“Everyone for himself,” he murmured.

“And le diable takes the hindermost,” said Poirot. “That is your creed⁷, is it?”

Charles was looking at him curiously⁸.

“I didn’t know the old lady had ever spotted⁹ it. How did you come to know about it—and aboutthe bumping off conversation?”

“Miss Lawson told me.”

“The sly old pussy¹⁰ cat!” He looked, I thought, just a shade disturbed. “She doesn’t like me andshe doesn’t like Theresa,” he said presently. “You don’t think—she’s got anything more up hersleeve?”

“What could she have?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s just that she strikes me as a malicious¹¹ old devil.” He paused. “She hatesTheresa…” he added.

“Did you know, Mr. Arundell, that Dr. Tanios came down to see your aunt on the Sundaybefore she died?”

“What—on the Sunday that we were there?”

“Yes. You did not see him?”

“No. We were out for a walk in the afternoon. I suppose he must have come then. Funny thatAunt Emily didn’t mention his visit. Who told you?”

“Miss Lawson.”

“Lawson again? She seems to be a mine of information.”

He paused and then said:

“You know, Tanios is a nice fellow. I like him. Such a jolly, smiling chap.”

“He has an attractive personality, yes,” said Poirot.

Charles rose to his feet.

“If I’d been him I’d have murdered the dreary¹² Bella years ago! Doesn’t she strike you as thetype of woman who is marked out by fate to be a victim? You know, I should never be surprised ifbits of her turned up in a trunk at Margate or somewhere!”

“It is not a pretty action that you attribute there to her husband the good doctor,” said Poirotseverely.

“No,” said Charles meditatively¹³. “And I don’t think really that Tanios would hurt a fly. He’smuch too kindhearted.”

“And what about you? Would you do murder if it were made worth while?”

Charles laughed—a ringing, genuine laugh.

“Thinking about a spot of blackmail¹⁴, M. Poirot? Nothing doing. I can assure you that I didn’tput—” he stopped suddenly and then went on—“strychnine in Aunt Emily’s soup.”

With a careless wave of his hand he departed.

“Were you trying to frighten him, Poirot?” I asked. “If so, I don’t think you succeeded. Heshowed no guilty reactions whatsoever¹⁵.”

“No?”

“No. He seemed quite unruffled.”

“Curious that pause he made,” said Poirot.

“A pause?”

“Yes. A pause before the word strychnine. Almost as though he had been about to saysomething else and thought better of it.”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“He was probably thinking of a good, venomous-sounding poison.”

“It is possible. It is possible. But let us set off. We will, I think, stay the night at the George inMarket Basing.”

Ten minutes later saw us speeding through London, bound once more for the country.

We arrived in Harchester about four o’clock and made our way straight to the offices of Purvis,Purvis, Charlesworth and Purvis.

Mr. Purvis was a big solidly-built man with white hair and a rosy¹⁶ complexion¹⁷. He had a little thelook of a country squire¹⁸. His manner was courteous¹⁹ but reserved.

He read the letter we had brought and then looked at us across the top of his desk. It was ashrewd look and a somewhat searching one.

“I know you by name, of course, M. Poirot,” he said politely. “Miss Arundell and her brotherhave, I gather, engaged your services in this matter, but exactly in what capacity you propose to beof use to them I am at a loss to imagine.”

“Shall we say, Mr. Purvis, a fuller investigation²⁰ of all the circumstances?”

The lawyer said drily:

“Miss Arundell and her brother have already had my opinion as to the legal position. Thecircumstances were perfectly² clear and admit of no misrepresentation.”

“Perfectly, perfectly,” said Poirot quickly. “But you will not, I am sure, object to just repeatingthem so that I can envisage²¹ the situation clearly.”

The lawyer bowed his head.

“I am at your service.”

Poirot began:

“Miss Arundell wrote to you giving you instructions on the seventeenth of April, I believe?”

Mr. Purvis consulted some papers on the table before him.

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Can you tell me what she said?”

“She asked me to draw up a will. There were to be legacies²² to two servants and to three or fourcharities. The rest of her estate was to pass to Wilhelmina Lawson absolutely.”

“You will pardon me, Mr. Purvis, but you were surprised?”

“I will admit that—yes, I was surprised.”

“Miss Arundell had made a will previously²³?”

“Yes, she had made a will five years ago.”

“That will, after certain small legacies, left her property to her nephew and nieces?”

“The bulk of her estate was to be divided equally between the children of her brother Thomasand the daughter of Arabella Biggs, her sister.

“What has happened to that will?”

“At Miss Arundell’s request I brought it with me when I visited her at Littlegreen House onApril 21st.”

“I should be much obliged to you, Mr. Purvis, if you would give me a full description ofeverything that occurred on that occasion.”

The lawyer paused for a minute or two. Then he said, very precisely²⁴:

“I arrived at Littlegreen House at three o’clock in the afternoon. One of my clerks accompaniedme. Miss Arundell received me in the drawing room.”

“How did she look to you?”

“She seemed to me in good health in spite of the fact that she was walking with a stick. That, Iunderstand, was on account of a fall she had had recently. Her general health, as I say, seemedgood. She struck me as slightly nervous and overexcited in manner.”

“Was Miss Lawson with her?”

“She was with her when I arrived. But she left us immediately.”

“And then?”

“Miss Arundell asked me if I had done what she had asked me to do, and if I had brought thenew will with me for her to sign.

“I said I had done so. I—er—” he hesitated for a minute or two, then went on stiffly. “I may aswell say that, as far as it was proper for me to do so, I remonstrated²⁵ with Miss Arundell. I pointedout to her that this new will might be regarded as grossly unfair to her family who were, after all,her own flesh and blood.”

“And her answer?”

“She asked me if the money was or was not her own to do with as she liked. I replied thatcertainly that was the case. ‘Very well then,’ she said. I reminded her that she had known this MissLawson a very short time, and I asked her if she was quite sure that the injustice²⁷ she was doing herown family was legitimate²⁸. Her reply was, ‘My dear friend, I know perfectly what I am doing.’”

“Her manner was excited, you say.”

“I think I can definitely say that it was, but understand me, M. Poirot, she was in full possessionof her faculties²⁹. She was in every sense of the word fully³ competent to manage her own affairs.

Though my sympathies are entirely³⁰ with Miss Arundell’s family, I should be obliged to maintainthat in any court of law.”

“That is quite understood. Proceed, I pray you.”

“Miss Arundell read through her existing will. Then she stretched out her hand for the one I hadhad drawn³¹ up. I may say that I would have preferred to submit a draft first but she had impressedupon me that the will must be brought her ready to sign. That presented no difficulties as itsprovisions were so simple. She read it through, nodded her head and said she would sign itstraightaway. I felt it my duty to enter one last protest. She heard me out patiently, but said that hermind was quite made up. I called in my clerk and he and the gardener acted as witnesses to hersignature. The servants, of course, were ineligible³² owing to the fact that they were beneficiariesunder the will.”

“And afterwards, did she entrust³³ the will to you for safekeeping?”

“No, she placed it in a drawer of her desk, which drawer she locked.”

“What was done with the original will? Did she destroy it?”

“No, she locked it away with the other.”

“After her death, where was the will found?”

“In that same drawer. As executor I had her keys and went through her papers and businessdocuments.”

“Were both wills in the drawer?”

“Yes, exactly as she had placed them there.”

“Did you question her at all as to the motive³⁴ for this rather surprising action?”

“I did. But I got no satisfactory answer. She merely assured me that ‘she knew what she wasdoing.’”

“Nevertheless you were surprised at the proceeding³⁶?”

“Very surprised. Miss Arundell, I should say, had always shown herself to have a strong senseof family feeling.”

Poirot was silent a minute, then he asked:

“You did not, I suppose, have any conversation with Miss Lawson on the subject?”

“Certainly not. Such a proceeding would have been highly improper³⁷.”

Mr. Purvis looked scandalized at the mere³⁵ suggestion.

“Did Miss Arundell say anything to indicate that Miss Lawson knew that a will was beingdrawn in her favour?”

“On the contrary. I asked her if Miss Lawson was aware of what was being done, and MissArundell snapped out that she knew nothing about it.

“It was advisable, I thought, that Miss Lawson should not be aware of what had happened. Iendeavoured to hint as much and Miss Arundell seemed quite of my opinion.”

“Just why did you stress that point, Mr. Purvis?”

The old gentleman returned his glance with dignity.

“Such things, in my opinion, are better undiscussed. Also it might have led to futuredisappointment.”

“Ah,” Poirot drew a long breath. “I take it that you thought it probable that Miss Arundell mightchange her mind in the near future?”

The lawyer bowed his head.

“That is so. I fancied that Miss Arundell had had some violent altercation³⁸ with her family. Ithought it probable that when she cooled down, she would repent³⁹ of her rash decision.”

“In which case she would have done—what?”

“She would have given me instructions to prepare a new will.”

“She might have taken the simpler course of merely destroying the will lately made, in whichcase the older will would have been good?”

“That is a somewhat debatable point. All earlier wills, you understand, had been definitelyrevoked by the testator.”

“But Miss Arundell would not have had the legal knowledge to appreciate that point. She mayhave thought that by destroying the latter will, the earlier one would stand.”

“It is quite possible.”

“Actually, if she died intestate, her money would pass to her family?”

“Yes. One half to Mrs. Tanios, one half divisible between Charles and Theresa Arundell. Butthe fact remains⁴⁰, however, that she did not change her mind! She died with her decisionunchanged.”

“But that,” said Poirot, “is where I come in.”

The lawyer looked at him inquiringly.

Poirot leaned forward.

“Supposing,” he said, “that Miss Arundell, on her deathbed, wished to destroy that will.

Supposing that she believed that she had destroyed it—but that, in reality, she only destroyed thefirst will.”

Mr. Purvis shook his head.

“No, both wills were intact.”

“Then supposing she destroyed a dummy⁴¹ will—under the impression that she was destroyingthe genuine document. She was very ill, remember, it would be easy to deceive her.”

“You would have to bring evidence to that effect,” said the lawyer sharply.

“Oh! undoubtedly—undoubtedly….”

“Is there—may I ask—is there any reason to believe something of that kind happened?”

Poirot drew back a little.

“I should not like to commit myself at this stage—”

“Naturally, naturally,” said Mr. Purvis, agreeing with a phrase that was familiar to him.

“But may I say, strictly⁴² in confidence, that there are some curious features about this business!”

“Really? You don’t say so?”

Mr. Purvis rubbed his hands together with a kind of pleasurable anticipation⁴³.

“What I wanted from you and what I have got,” continued Poirot, “is your opinion that MissArundell would, sooner or later, have changed her mind and relented towards her family.”

“That is only my personal opinion, of course,” the lawyer pointed²⁶ out.

“My dear sir, I quite understand. You do not, I believe, act for Miss Lawson?”

“I advised Miss Lawson to consult an independent solicitor,” said Mr. Purvis.

His tone was wooden.

Poirot shook hands with him, thanking him for his kindness and the information he had givenus.

 

点击收听单词发音