One, two, buckle my shoe - Agatha Christie [30]
‘Yes, Julia, of course, of course.’
Alistair Blunt spoke soothingly as he rose to greet Poirot.
‘And if you’re going to talk horrors I shall leave the room,’ added the good lady.
‘I should, mother,’ said Jane Olivera.
Mrs Olivera swept from the room without condescending to take any notice of Poirot.
Alistair Blunt said:
‘It’s very good of you to come, M. Poirot. You’ve met Miss Olivera, I think? It was she who sent for you —’
Jane said abruptly:
‘It’s about this missing woman that the papers are full of. Miss Something Seale.’
‘Sainsbury Seale? Yes?’
Jane turned once more to Poirot.
‘It’s such a pompous name, that’s why I remember. Shall I tell him, or will you, Uncle Alistair?’
‘My dear, it’s your story.’
Jane turned once more to Poirot.
‘It mayn’t be important in the least — but I thought you ought to know.’
‘Yes?’
‘It was the last time Uncle Alistair went to the dentist’s — I don’t mean the other day — I mean about three months ago. I went with him to Queen Charlotte Street in the Rolls and it was to take me on to some friends in Regent’s Park and come back for him. We stopped at 58, and Uncle got out, and just as he did, a woman came out of 58 — a middle-aged woman with fussy hair and rather arty clothes. She made a bee-line for Uncle and said (Jane Olivera’s voice rose to an affected squeak): “Oh, Mr Blunt, you don’t remember me, I’m sure!” Well, of course, I could see by Uncle’s face that he didn’t remember her in the slightest —’
Alistair Blunt sighed.
‘I never do. People are always saying it —’
‘He put on his special face,’ went on Jane. ‘I know it well. Kind of polite and make-believe. It wouldn’t deceive a baby. He said in a most unconvincing voice: “Oh — er — of course.” The terrible woman went on: “I was a great friend of your wife’s, you know!”’
‘They usually say that, too,’ said Alistair Blunt in a voice of even deeper gloom.
He smiled rather ruefully.
‘It always ends the same way! A subscription to something or other. I got off this time with five pounds to a Zenana Mission or something. Cheap!’
‘Had she really known your wife?’
‘Well, her being interested in Zenana Missions made me think that, if so, it would have been in India. We were there about ten yours ago. But, of course, she couldn’t have been a great friend or I’d have known about it. Probably met her once at a reception.’
Jane Olivera said:
‘I don’t believe she’d ever met Aunt Rebecca at all. I think it was just an excuse to speak to you.’
Alistair Blunt said tolerantly:
‘Well, that’s quite possible.’
Jane said:
‘I mean, I think it’s queer the way she tried to scrape an acquaintance with you, Uncle.’
Alistair Blunt said with the same tolerance:
‘She did not try to follow it up in any way?’
Blunt shook his head.
‘I never thought of her again. I’d even forgotten her name till Jane spotted it in the paper.’
Jane said a little unconvincingly:
‘Well, I thought M. Poirot ought to be told!’
Poirot said politely:
‘Thank you, Mademoiselle.’
He added:
‘I must not keep you, Mr Blunt. You are a busy man.’
Jane said quickly:
‘I’ll come down with you.’
Under his moustaches, Hercule Poirot smiled to himself.
On the ground floor, Jane paused abruptly. She said:
‘Come in here.’
They went into a small room off the hall.
She turned to face him.
‘What did you mean on the telephone when you said that you had been expecting me to call you?’
Poirot smiled. He spread out his hands.
‘Just that, Mademoiselle. I was expecting a call from you — and the call came.’
‘You mean that you knew I’d ring up about this Sainsbury Seale woman.’
Poirot shook his head.
‘That was only the pretext. You could have found something else if necessary.’
Jane said:
‘Why the hell should I call you up?’
‘Why should you deliver this titbit of information about Miss Sainsbury Seale to me instead of giving it to Scotland Yard? That would have been the natural thing to do.’
‘All right, Mr Know All, how much exactly do you know?’
‘I know that you are interested