One, two, buckle my shoe - Agatha Christie [46]
‘My ideas are childish in the extreme. I tell myself, it was perhaps a ruse to indicate you to someone — to point you out. But that again is absurd — you are quite a well-known man — and anyway how much more simple to say “See, that is he — the man who entered now by that door.”’
‘And anyway,’ said Blunt, ‘why should anyone want to point me out?’
‘Mr Blunt, think back once more on your time that morning in the dentist’s chair. Did nothing that Morley said strike an unusual note? Is there nothing at all that you can remember which might help as a clue?’
Alistair Blunt frowned in an effort of memory. Then he shook his head.
‘I’m sorry. I can’t think of anything.’
‘You’re quite sure he didn’t mention this woman — this Miss Sainsbury Seale?’
‘No.’
‘Or the other woman — Mrs Chapman?’
‘No — no — we didn’t speak of people at all. We mentioned roses, gardens needing rain, holidays — nothing else.’
‘And no one came into the room while you were there?’
‘Let me see — no, I don’t think so. On other occasions I seem to remember a young woman being there — fair-haired girl. But she wasn’t there this time. Oh, another dentist fellow came in, I remember — the fellow with an Irish accent.’
‘What did he say or do?’
‘Just asked Morley some question and went out again. Morley was a bit short with him, I fancy. He was only there a minute or so.’
‘And there is nothing else you can remember? Nothing at all?’
‘No. He was absolutely normal.’
Hercule Poirot said thoughtfully:
‘I, too, found him absolutely normal.’
There was a long pause. Then Poirot said:
‘Do you happen to remember, Monsieur, a young man who was in the waiting-room downstairs with you that morning?’
Alistair Blunt frowned.
‘Let me see — yes, there was a young man — rather restless he was. I don’t remember him particularly, though. Why?’
‘Would you know him again if you saw him?’
Blunt shook his head.
‘I hardly glanced at him.’
‘He didn’t try to enter into conversation with you at all?’
‘No.’
Blunt looked with frank curiosity at the other.
‘What’s the point? Who is this young man?’
‘His name is Howard Raikes.’
Poirot watched keenly for any reaction, but he saw none.
‘Ought I to know his name? Have I met him elsewhere?’
‘I do not think you have met him. He is a friend of your niece, Miss Olivera’s.’
‘Oh, one of Jane’s friends.’
‘Her mother, I gather, does not approve of the friendship.’
Alistair Blunt said absently:
‘I don’t suppose that will cut any ice with Jane.’
‘So seriously does her mother regard the friendship that I gather she brought her daughter over from the States on purpose to get her away from this young man.’
‘Oh!’ Blunt’s face registered comprehension. ‘It’s that fellow, is it?’
‘Aha, you become more interested now.’
‘He’s a most undesirable young fellow in every way, I believe. Mixed up in a lot of subversive activities.’
‘I understand from Miss Olivera that he made an appointment that morning in Queen Charlotte Street, solely in order to get a look at you.’
‘To try and get me to approve of him?’
‘Well — no — I understand the idea was that he should be induced to approve of you.’
‘Well, of all the damned cheek!’
Poirot concealed a smile.
‘It appears you are everything that he most disapproves of.’
‘He’s certainly the kind of young man I disapprove of! Spends his time tub-thumping and talking hot air, instead of doing a decent job of work!’
Poirot was silent for a minute, then he said:
‘Will you forgive me if I ask you an impertinent and very personal question?’
‘Fire ahead.’
‘In the event of your death, what are your testamentary dispositions?’
Blunt stared. He said sharply:
‘Why do you want to know that?’
‘Because, it is just possible,’ he shrugged his shoulders — ‘that it might be relevant to this case.’
‘Nonsense!’
‘Perhaps. But perhaps not.’
Alistair Blunt said coldly:
‘I think you are being unduly melodramatic, M. Poirot. Nobody has been trying to murder me — or anything like that!’
‘A bomb on your breakfast table — a shot in the street —’
‘Oh those! Any man who deals in the world