Black Coffee - Agatha Christie [19]
Still holding the telephone receiver to his ear, Richard turned, startled. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked his wife tersely.
‘Yes, yes, Richard, he must stay,’ Lucia insisted. Her voice sounded almost hysterical.
Miss Amory looked up in consternation, Barbara and Edward Raynor exchanged worried glances, Dr Carelli stood looking down thoughtfully at the lifeless body of the great scientist, while Hastings, who had been absent-mindedly examining the books on the library shelves, turned to survey the gathering.
Richard was about to respond to Lucia’s outburst when his attention was claimed by the telephone he was holding. ‘Oh what . . . Is that Dr Graham?’ he asked. ‘Kenneth, it’s Richard Amory speaking. My father has had a heart attack. Can you come up at once? . . . Well, actually, I’m afraid there’s nothing to be done . . . Yes, he’s dead . . . No . . . I’m afraid so . . . Thank you.’ Replacing the receiver, he crossed the room to his wife and, in a low, agitated voice, muttered, ‘Lucia, are you mad? What have you done? Don’t you realize we must get rid of this detective?’
Astonished, Lucia rose from her chair. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked Richard.
Their exchange continued quietly but urgently. ‘Didn’t you hear what father said?’ His tone fraught with meaning, he murmured, ‘“The coffee is very bitter.”’
At first, Lucia seemed not to understand. ‘The coffee is very bitter?’ she repeated. She looked at Richard uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then suddenly uttered a cry of horror which she quickly stifled.
‘You see? Do you understand now?’ Richard asked. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he added, ‘He’s been poisoned. And obviously by a member of the family. You don’t want a ghastly scandal, do you?’
‘Oh, my God,’ murmured Lucia, staring straight in front of her. ‘Oh, merciful God.’
Turning away from her, Richard approached Poirot. ‘Monsieur Poirot –’ he began, and then hesitated.
‘M’sieur?’ Poirot queried, politely.
Summoning up his determination, Richard continued, ‘Monsieur Poirot, I’m afraid I do not quite understand what it is that my wife has asked you to investigate.’
Poirot considered for a moment before replying. Then, smiling pleasantly, he answered, ‘Shall we say, the theft of a document? That, mademoiselle tells me,’ he continued, gesturing towards Barbara, ‘is what I was called down for.’
Casting a glance of reproach at Barbara, Richard told Poirot, ‘The document in question has been – returned.’
‘Has it?’ asked Poirot, his smile becoming rather enigmatic. The little detective suddenly had the attention of everyone present, as he moved to the table in the centre of the room and looked at the envelope still lying on it, which had been generally forgotten in the excitement and commotion caused by the discovery of Sir Claud’s death.
‘What do you mean?’ Richard Amory asked Hercule Poirot.
Poirot gave a flamboyant twist to his moustache, and carefully brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. Then, ‘It is just a – no doubt foolish – idea of mine,’ the little detective finally replied. ‘You see, someone told me the other day a most amusing story. The story of the empty bottle – there was nothing in it.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand you,’ Richard Amory declared.
Picking up the envelope from the table, Poirot murmured, ‘I just wondered . . .’ He glanced at Richard, who took the envelope from him, and looked inside.
‘It’s empty!’ Richard exclaimed. Screwing up the envelope, he threw it on the table and looked searchingly at Lucia, who moved away from him. ‘Then,’ he continued uncertainly, ‘I suppose we must be searched – we . . .’
Richard’s voice trailed away, and he looked around the room as though seeking guidance. He was met with looks of confusion from Barbara and her aunt, indignation from Edward Raynor and blandness from Dr Carelli. Lucia continued to avoid his eye.
‘Why do you not take my advice, monsieur?’ Poirot suggested. ‘Do nothing until the doctor comes. Tell me,’ he asked, pointing towards the study, ‘that doorway, where does he go?’
‘That’s my father’s study in