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‘Yes, sir, very poorly she was.’

‘Were her children fond of her?’

‘Mr David, he was devoted to her. More like a daughter than a son. And after she died he broke away, couldn’t face living here any longer.’

Poirot said: ‘And Mr Harry? What was he like?’

‘Always rather a wild young gentleman, sir, but good-hearted. Oh, dear, gave me quite a turn, it did, when the bell rang—and then again, so impatient like, and I opened the door and there was a strange man, and then Mr Harry’s voice said, “Hallo, Tressilian. Still here, eh?” Just the same as ever.’

Poirot said sympathetically:

‘It must have been the strange feeling, yes, indeed.’

Tressilian said, a little pink flush showing in his cheek:

‘It seems sometimes, sir, as though the past isn’t the past! I believe there’s been a play on in London about something like that. There’s something in it, sir—there really is. There’s a feeling comes over you—as though you’d done everything before. It just seems to me as though the bell rings and I go to answer it and there’s Mr Harry—even if it should be Mr Farr or some other person—I’m just saying to myself—but I’ve done this before…’

Poirot said:

‘That is very interesting—very interesting.’

Tressilian looked at him gratefully.

Johnson, somewhat impatient, cleared his throat and took charge of the conversation.

‘Just want to get various times checked correctly,’ he said. ‘Now, when the noise upstairs started, I understand that only Mr Alfred Lee and Mr Harry Lee were in the dining-room. Is that so?’

‘I really couldn’t tell you, sir. All the gentlemen were there when I served coffee to them—but that would be about a quarter of an hour earlier.’

‘Mr George Lee was telephoning. Can you confirm that?’

‘I think somebody did telephone, sir. The bell rings in my pantry, and when anybody takes off the receiver to call a number, there’s just a faint noise on the bell. I do remember hearing that, but I didn’t pay attention to it.’

‘You don’t know exactly when it was?’

‘I couldn’t say, sir. It was after I had taken coffee to the gentlemen, that is all I can say.’

‘Do you know where any of the ladies were at the time I mentioned?’

‘Mrs Alfred was in the drawing-room, sir, when I went for the coffee tray. That was just a minute or two before I heard the cry upstairs.’

Poirot asked:

‘What was she doing?’

‘She was standing by the far window, sir. She was holding the curtain a little back and looking out.’

‘And none of the other ladies were in the room?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Do you know where they were?’

‘I couldn’t say at all, sir.’

‘You don’t know where anyone else was?’

‘Mr David, I think, was playing in the music-room next door to the drawing-room.’

‘You heard him playing?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Again the old man shivered. ‘It was like a sign, sir, so I felt afterwards. It was the “Dead March” he was playing. Even at the time, I remember, it gave me the creeps.’

‘It is curious, yes,’ said Poirot.

‘Now, about this fellow, Horbury, the valet,’ said the chief constable. ‘Are you definitely prepared to swear that he was out of the house by eight o’clock?’

‘Oh yes, sir. It was just after Mr Sugden here arrived. I remember particular because he broke a coffee-cup.’

Poirot said:

‘Horbury broke a coffee-cup?’

‘Yes, sir—one of the old Worcester ones. Eleven years I’ve washed them up and never one broken till this evening.’

Poirot said:

‘What was Horbury doing with the coffee-cups?’

‘Well, of course, sir, he’d no business to have been handling them at all. He was just holding one up, admiring it like, and I happened to mention that Mr Sugden had called, and he dropped it.’

Poirot said:

‘Did you say “Mr Sugden” or did you mention the word police?’

Tressilian looked a little startled.

‘Now I come to think of it, sir, I mentioned that the police superintendent had called.’

‘And Horbury dropped the coffee-cup,’ said Poirot.

‘Seems suggestive, that,’ said the chief constable. ‘Did Horbury ask any questions about the superintendent