Hickory Dickory Dock - Agatha Christie [45]
“No one’s above the law. I’m afraid I shall have to ask you to stand aside.”
“It is an outrage,” Mrs. Nicoletis screamed with fury. “You are officious busybodies. I will write to everyone. I will write to my member of Parliament. I will write to the papers.”
“Write to anyone you please, madam,” said Inspector Sharpe. “I’m going to search this room.”
He started straight away upon the bureau. A large carton of confectionery, a mass of papers, and a large variety of assorted junk rewarded his search. He moved from there to a cupboard in the corner of the room.
“This is locked. Can I have the key, please?”
“Never!” screamed Mrs. Nicoletis. “Never, never, never shall you have the key! Beast and pig of a policeman, I spit at you. I spit! I spit! I spit!”
“You might just as well give me the key,” said Inspector Sharpe. “If not, I shall simply prise the door open.”
“I will not give you the key! You will have to tear my clothes off me before you get the key! And that—that will be a scandal.”
“Get a chisel, Cobb,” said Inspector Sharpe resignedly.
Mrs. Nicoletis uttered a scream of fury. Inspector Sharpe paid no attention. The chisel was brought. Two sharp cracks and the door of the cupboard came open. As it swung forward a large consignment of empty brandy bottles poured out of the cupboard.
“Beast! Pig! Devil!” screamed Mrs. Nicoletis.
“Thank you, madam,” said the inspector politely. “We’ve finished in here.”
Mrs. Hubbard tactfully replaced the bottles while Mrs. Nicoletis had hysterics.
One mystery, the mystery of Mrs. Nicoletis’s tempers, was now cleared up.
III
Poirot’s telephone call came through just as Mrs. Hubbard was pouring out an appropriate dose of sedative from the private medicine cupboard in her sitting room. After replacing the receiver she went back to Mrs. Nicoletis whom she had left screaming and kicking her heels on the sofa in her own sitting room.
“Now you drink this,” said Mrs. Hubbard. “And you’ll feel better.”
“Gestapo!” said Mrs. Nicoletis, who was now quiet but sullen.
“I shouldn’t think any more about it if I were you,” said Mrs. Hubbard soothingly.
“Gestapo!” said Mrs. Nicoletis again. “Gestapo! That is what they are!”
“They have to do their duty, you know,” said Mrs. Hubbard.
“Is it their duty to pry into my private cupboards? I say to them, ‘That is not for you.’ I lock it. I put the key down my bosom. If you had not been there as a witness they would have torn my clothes off me without shame.”
“Oh no, I don’t think they would have done that,” said Mrs. Hubbard.
“That is what you say! Instead they get a chisel and they force my door. That is structural damage to the house for which I shall be responsible.”
“Well, you see, if you wouldn’t give them the key. . . .”
“Why should I give them the key? It is my key. My private key. And this is my private room. My private room and I say to the police, ‘Keep out’ and they do not keep out.”
“Well, after all, Mrs. Nicoletis, there has been a murder, remember. And after a murder one has to put up with certain things which might not be very pleasant at ordinary times.”
“I spit upon the murder!” said Mrs. Nicoletis. “That little Celia she commits suicide. She has a silly love affair and she takes poison. It is the sort of thing that is always happening. They are so stupid about love, these girls—as though love mattered! One year, two years and it is all finished, the grand passion! The man is the same as any other man! But these silly girls they do not know that. They take the sleeping draught and the disinfectant and they turn on gas taps and then it is too late.”
“Well,” said Mrs. Hubbard, turning full circle, as it were, to where the conversation had started, “I shouldn’t worry any more about it all now.”
“That is all very well for you. Me, I have to worry. It is not safe for me any longer.”
“Safe?” Mrs. Hubbard looked at her, startled.
“It was my private cupboard,” Mrs. Nicoletis insisted. “Nobody knows what was in my private cupboard. I did not want them to know. And now they do know. I am very uneasy. They may think—what will