Dumb Witness - Agatha Christie [61]
“Everyone—with the exception of Miss Lawson.”
“Precisely.”
“Well, at any rate, one person is automatically cleared.”
“Yes,” said Poirot thoughtfully. “It would seem so. But the interesting thing is that the person who would have gained nothing if death had occurred on Easter Tuesday, gains everything when death occurs two weeks later.”
“What are you getting at, Poirot?” I said, slightly puzzled.
“Cause and effect, my friend, cause and effect.”
I looked at him doubtfully.
He went on:
“Proceed logically! What exactly happened—after the accident?”
I hate Poirot in this mood. Whatever one says is bound to be wrong! I proceeded with intense caution.
“Miss Arundell was laid up in bed.”
“Exactly. With plently of time to think. What next?”
“She wrote to you.” Poirot nodded.
“Yes, she wrote to me. And the letter was not posted. A thousand pities, that.”
“Do you suspect that there was something fishy about that letter not being posted?”
Poirot frowned.
“There, Hastings, I have to confess that I do not know. I think—in view of everything I am almost sure—that the letter was genuinely mislaid. I believe—but I cannot be sure—that the fact that such a letter was written was unsuspected by anybody. Continue—what happened next?”
I reflected.
“The lawyer’s visit,” I suggested.
“Yes—she sent for her lawyer and in due course he arrived.”
“And she made a new will,” I continued.
“Precisely. She made a new and very unexpected will. Now, in view of that will we have to consider very carefully a statement made to us by Ellen. Ellen said, if you remember, that Miss Lawson was particularly anxious that the news that Bob had been out all night should not get to Miss Arundell’s ears.”
“But—oh, I see—no, I don’t. Or do I begin to see what you are hinting at…?”
“I doubt it!” said Poirot. “But if you do, you realize, I hope, the supreme importance of that statement.”
He fixed me with a fierce eye.
“Of course. Of course,” I said hurriedly.
“And then,” continued Poirot, “various other things happen. Charles and Theresa come for the weekend, and Miss Arundell shows the new will to Charles—or so he says.”
“Don’t you believe him?”
“I only believe statements that are checked. Miss Arundell does not show it to Theresa.”
“Because she thought Charles would tell her.”
“But he doesn’t. Why doesn’t he?”
“According to Charles himself he did tell her.”
“Theresa said quite positively that he didn’t—a very interesting and suggestive little clash. And when we depart she calls him a fool.”
“I’m getting fogged, Poirot,” I said plaintively.
“Let us return to the sequence of events. Dr. Tanios comes down on Sunday—possibly without the knowledge of his wife.”
“I should say certainly without her knowledge.”
“Let us say probably. To proceed! Charles and Theresa leave on the Monday. Miss Arundell is in good health and spirits. She eats a good dinner and sits in the dark with the Tripps and the Lawson. Towards the end of the séance she is taken ill. She retires to bed and dies four days later and Miss Lawson inherits all her money, and Captain Hastings says she died a natural death!”
“Whereas Hercule Poirot says she was given poison in her dinner on no evidence at all!”
“I have some evidence, Hastings. Think over our conversation with the Misses Tripp. And also one statement that stood out from Miss Lawson’s somewhat rambling conversation.”
“Do you mean the fact that she had curry for dinner? Curry would mask the taste of a drug. Is that what you meant?”
Poirot said slowly:
“Yes, the curry has a certain significance, perhaps.”
“But,” I said, “if what you advance (in defiance of all the medical evidence) is true, only Miss Lawson or one of the maids could have killed her.”
“I wonder.”
“Or the Tripp women? Nonsense. I can’t believe that! All these people are palpably innocent.”
Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
“Remember this, Hastings,