ABC Murders - Agatha Christie [25]
“I’m trusting you now, M. Poirot. I’m going to give you the absolute truth. Don is, as I say, a very quiet person—a bottled-up person, if you know what I mean. He can’t always express what he feels in words. But underneath it all he minds things terribly. And he’s got a jealous nature. He was always jealous of Betty. He was devoted to her—and of course she was very fond of him, but it wasn’t in Betty to be fond of one person and not notice anybody else. She wasn’t made that way. She’d got a—well, an eye for any nice-looking man who’d pass the time of day with her. And of course, working in the Ginger Cat, she was always running up against men—especially in the summer holidays. She was always very pat with her tongue and if they chaffed her she’d chaff back again. And then perhaps she’d meet them and go to the pictures or something like that. Nothing serious—never anything of that kind—but she just liked her fun. She used to say that as she’d got to settle down with Don one day she might as well have her fun now while she could.”
Megan paused and Poirot said:
“I understand. Continue.”
“It was just that attitude of mind of hers that Don couldn’t understand. If she was really keen on him he couldn’t see why she wanted to go out with other people. And once or twice they had flaming big rows about it.”
“M. Don, he was no longer quiet?”
“It’s like all those quiet people, when they do lose their tempers they lose them with a vengeance. Don was so violent that Betty was frightened.”
“When was this?”
“There was one row nearly a year ago and another—a worse one—just over a month ago. I was home for the weekend—and I got them to patch it up again, and it was then I tried to knock a little sense into Betty—told her she was a little fool. All she would say was that there hadn’t been any harm in it. Well, that was true enough, but all the same she was riding for a fall. You see, after the row a year ago, she’d got into the habit of telling a few useful lies on the principle that what the mind doesn’t know the heart doesn’t grieve over. This last flare-up came because she’d told Don she was going to Hastings to see a girl pal—and he found out that she’d really been over to Eastbourne with some man. He was a married man, as it happened, and he’d been a bit secretive about the business anyway—and so that made it worse. They had an awful scene—Betty saying that she wasn’t married to him yet and she had a right to go about with whom she pleased and Don all white and shaking and saying that one day—one day—”
“Yes?”
“He’d commit murder—” said Megan in a lowered voice.
She stopped and stared at Poirot.
He nodded his head gravely several times.
“And so, naturally, you were afraid….”
“I didn’t think he’d actually done it—not for a minute! But I was afraid it might be brought up—the quarrel and all that he’d said—several people knew about it.”
Again Poirot nodded his head gravely.
“Just so. And I may say, mademoiselle, that but for the egoistical vanity of a killer, that is just what would have happened. If Donald Fraser escapes suspicion, it will be thanks to A B C’s maniacal boasting.”
He was silent for a minute or two, then he said:
“Do you know if your sister met this married man, or any other man, lately?”
Megan shook her head.
“I don’t know. I’ve been away, you see.”
“But what do you think?”
“She mayn’t have met that particular man again. He’d probably sheer off if he thought there was a chance of a row, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Betty had—well, been telling Don a few lies again. You see, she did so enjoy dancing and the pictures, and of course, Don couldn’t afford to take her all the time.”
“If so, is she likely to have confided in anyone? The girl at the café, for instance?”
“I don’t think that’s likely. Betty couldn’t bear the Higley girl. She thought her common. And the others would be new. Betty wasn’t the confiding sort anyway.”
An electric bell trilled sharply above the girl’s head.
She went to the window and leaned out. She drew back her head sharply.
“It’s Don….”
“Bring him in here,” said Poirot quickly.