Dumb Witness - Agatha Christie [39]
“And the other relations?”
“Well, there you are again. Very undesirable. Not that I’ve anything to say against Mrs. Tanios—she’s quite a nice woman—but absolutely stupid and completely under her husband’s thumb. Of course, he’s really a Turk, I believe—rather dreadful for an English girl to marry a Turk, I think, don’t you? It shows a certain lack of fastidiousness. Of course, Mrs. Tanios is a very good mother, though the children are singularly unattractive, poor little things.”
“So altogether you think Miss Lawson was a more worthy recipient of Miss Arundell’s fortune?”
Julia said serenely:
“Minnie Lawson is a thoroughly good woman. And so unworldly. It isn’t as though she had ever thought about money. She was never grasping.”
“Still, she has never thought of refusing to accept the legacy?”
Isabel drew back a little.
“Oh, well—one would hardly do that.”
Poirot smiled.
“No, perhaps not….”
“You see, Mr. Parrot,” put in Julia. “She regards it as a trust—a sacred trust.”
“And she is quite willing to do something for Mrs. Tanios or for the Tanios children,” went on Isabel. “Only she doesn’t want him to get hold of it.”
“She even said she would consider making Theresa an allowance.”
“And that, I think, was very generous of her—considering the offhand way that girl has always treated her.”
“Indeed, Mr. Parrot, Minnie is the most generous of creatures. But there now, you know her, of course!”
“Yes,” said Poirot. “I know her. But I still do not know—her address.”
“Of course! How stupid of me! Shall I write it down for you?”
“I can write it down.”
Poirot produced the invariable notebook.
“17, Clanroyden Mansions, W.2. Not very far from Whiteleys. You’ll give her our love, won’t you? We haven’t heard from her just lately.”
Poirot rose and I followed suit.
“I have to thank you both very much,” he declared, “for a most charming talk as well as for your kindness in supplying me with my friend’s address.”
“I wonder they didn’t give it to you at the house,” exclaimed Isabel. “It must be that Ellen! Servants are so jealous and so small-minded. They used to be quite rude to Minnie sometimes.”
Julia shook hands in a grande dame manner.
“We have enjoyed your visit,” she declared graciously. “I wonder—”
She flashed a glance of inquiry at her sister.
“You would, perhaps—” Isabel flushed a little. “Would you, that is to say, stay and share our evening meal? A very simple one—some shredded raw vegetables, brown bread and butter, fruit.”
“It sounds delicious,” Poirot said hastily. “But alas! my friend and I have to return to London.”
With renewed handshaking and messages to be delivered to Miss Lawson, we at last made our exit.
Twelve
POIROT DISCUSSES THE CASE
“Thank goodness, Poirot,” I said with fervour, “you got us out of those raw carrots! What awful women!”
“Pour nous, un bon bifteck—with the fried potatoes—and a good bottle of wine. What should we have had to drink there, I wonder?”
“Well, water, I should think,” I replied with a shudder. “Or nonalcoholic cider. It was that kind of place! I bet there’s no bath and no sanitation except an E.C. in the garden!”
“Strange how women enjoy living an uncomfortable life,” said Poirot thoughtfully. “It is not always poverty, though they are good at making the best of straitened circumstances.”
“What orders for the chauffeur now?” I asked, as I negotiated the last bend of the winding lanes, and we emerged on the road to Market Basing. “On what local light do we call next? Or do we return to the George and interrogate the asthmatic waiter once more?”
“You will be glad to hear, Hastings, that we have finished with Market Basing—”
“Splendid.”
“For the moment only. I shall return!”
“Still on the track of your unsuccessful murderer?”
“Exactly.”
“Did you learn anything from the fandango of nonsense we’ve just been listening to?”
Poirot said precisely:
“There were certain points deserving of attention. The various characters in our drama begin to emerge more clearly. In some ways it resembles, does it not, a novelette of older days? The humble companion,