Peril at End House - Agatha Christie [60]
Then, having answered all these questions, they were insistent on offering us lunch. Only Poirot’s mendacious statement that we were obliged to hurry back to lunch with the Chief Constable saved us.
At last a momentary pause occurred and Poirot got in the question he had been waiting to ask.
‘Why, of course,’ said Mr Croft. He pulled the blind cord up and down twice, frowning at it abstractedly. ‘I remember all about it. Must have been when we first came here. I remember. Appendicitis—that’s what the doctor said—’
‘And probably not appendicitis at all,’ interrupted Mrs Croft. ‘These doctors—they always like cutting you up if they can. It wasn’t the kind you have to operate on anyhow. She’d had indigestion and one thing and another, and they’d X-rayed her and they said out it had better come. And there she was, poor little soul, just going off to one of those nasty Homes.’
‘I just asked her,’ said Mr Croft, ‘if she’d made a will. More as a joke than anything else.’
‘Yes?’
‘And she wrote it out then and there. Talked about getting a will form at the post office—but I advised her not to. Lot of trouble they cause sometimes, so a man told me. Anyway, her cousin is a lawyer. He could draw her out a proper one afterwards if everything was all right—as, of course, I knew it would be. This was just a precautionary matter.’
‘Who witnessed it?’
‘Oh! Ellen, the maid, and her husband.’
‘And afterwards? What was done with it?’
‘Oh! we posted it to Vyse. The lawyer, you know.’
‘You know that it was posted?’
‘My dear M. Poirot, I posted it myself. Right in this box here by the gate.’
‘So if M. Vyse says he never got it—’
Croft stared.
‘Do you mean that it got lost in the post? Oh! but surely that’s impossible.’
‘Anyway, you are certain that you posted it.’
‘Certain sure,’ said Mr Croft, heartily. ‘I’ll take my oath on that any day.’
‘Ah! well,’ said Poirot. ‘Fortunately it does not matter. Mademoiselle is not likely to die just yet awhile.’
‘Et voilà!’ said Poirot, when we were out of earshot and walking down to the hotel. ‘Who is lying? M. Croft? Or M. Charles Vyse? I must confess I see no reason why M. Croft should be lying. To suppress the will would be of no advantage to him—especially when he had been instrumental in getting it made. No, his statement seems clear enough and tallies exactly with what was told us by Mademoiselle Nick. But all the same—’
‘Yes?’
‘All the same, I am glad that M. Croft was doing the cooking when we arrived. He left an excellent impression of a greasy thumb and first finger on a corner of the newspaper that covered the kitchen table. I managed to tear it off unseen by him. We will send it to our good friend Inspector Japp of Scotland Yard. There is just a chance that he might know something about it.’
‘Yes?’
‘You know, Hastings, I cannot help feeling that our genial M. Croft is a little too good to be genuine.’
‘And now,’ he added. ‘Le déjeuner. I faint with hunger.’
Chapter 15
Strange Behaviour of Frederica
Poirot’s inventions about the Chief Constable were proved not to have been so mendacious after all. Colonel Weston called upon us soon after lunch.
He was a tall man of military carriage with considerable good-looks. He had a suitable reverence for Poirot’s achievements, with which he seemed to be well acquainted.
‘Marvellous piece of luck for us having you down here, M. Poirot,’ he said again and again.
His one fear was that he should be compelled to call in the assistance of Scotland Yard. He was anxious to solve the mystery and catch the criminal without their aid. Hence his delight at Poirot’s presence in the neighbourhood.
Poirot, so far as I could judge, took him completely into his confidence.
‘Deuced odd business,’ said the Colonel. ‘Never heard of anything like it. Well, the girl ought to be safe