Taken at the Flood - Agatha Christie [29]
‘It seems a most fantastic supposition to me,’ said David.
‘Does it? Does it really?’ Arden smiled. He leaned forward, tapped David on the knee. ‘Suppose it’s true, Hunter? Eh? Suppose it’s true?’
‘I should require very definite proof of it.’
‘Would you? Well, of course, there’s no super-definite proof. Underhay himself could turn up here — in Warmsley Vale. How’d you like that for proof?’
‘It would at least be conclusive,’ said David dryly.
‘Oh, yes, conclusive — but just a little embarrassing — for Mrs Gordon Cloade, I mean. Because then, of course, she wouldn’t be Mrs Gordon Cloade. Awkward. You must admit, just a little bit awkward?’
‘My sister,’ said David, ‘remarried in perfectly good faith.’
‘Of course she did, my dear fellow. Of course she did. I’m not disputing that for a second. Any judge would say the same. No actual blame could attach to her.’
‘Judge?’ said David sharply.
The other said as though apologetically:
‘I was thinking of bigamy.’
‘Just what are you driving at?’ asked David savagely.
‘Now don’t get excited, old boy. We just want to put our heads together and see what’s best to be done — best for your sister, that’s to say. Nobody wants a lot of dirty publicity. Underhay — well, Underhay was always a chivalrous kind of chap.’ Arden paused. ‘He still is…’
‘Is?’ asked David sharply.
‘That’s what I said.’
‘You say Robert Underhay is alive. Where is he now?’
Arden leaned forward — his voice became confidential.
‘Do you really want to know, Hunter? Wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t know? Put it that, as far as you know, and as far as Rosaleen knows, Underhay died in Africa. Very good, and if Underhay is alive, he doesn’t know his wife has married again, he hasn’t the least idea of it. Because, of course, if he did know he would have come forward…Rosaleen, you see, has inherited a good deal of money from her second husband — well, then, of course she isn’t entitled to any of that money…Underhay is a man with a very sensitive sense of honour. He wouldn’t like her inheriting money under false pretences.’ He paused. ‘But of course it’s possible that Underhay doesn’t know anything about her second marriage. He’s in a bad way, poor fellow — in a very bad way.’
‘What do you mean by in a bad way?’
Arden shook his head solemnly.
‘Broken down in health. He needs medical attention — special treatments — all unfortunately rather expensive.’
The last word dropped delicately as though into a category of its own. It was the word for which David Hunter had been unconsciously waiting.
He said:
‘Expensive?’
‘Yes — unfortunately everything costs money. Underhay, poor devil, is practically destitute.’ He added: ‘He’s got practically nothing but what he stands up in…’
Just for a moment David’s eyes wandered round the room. He noted the pack slung on a chair. There was no suitcase to be seen.
‘I wonder,’ said David, and his voice was not pleasant, ‘if Robert Underhay is quite the chivalrous gentleman you make him out to be.’
‘He was once,’ the other assured him. ‘But life, you know, is inclined to make a fellow cynical.’ He paused and added softly: ‘Gordon Cloade was really an incredibly wealthy fellow. The spectacle of too much wealth arouses one’s baser instincts.’
David Hunter got up.
‘I’ve got an answer for you. Go to the devil.’
Unperturbed, Arden said, smiling:
‘Yes, I thought you’d say that.’
‘You’re a damned blackmailer, neither more nor less. I’ve a good mind to call your bluff.’
‘Publish and be damned? An admirable sentiment. But you wouldn’t like it if I did “publish”. Not that I shall. If you won’t buy, I’ve another market.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The Cloades. Suppose I go to them. “Excuse me, but would you be