Taken at the Flood - Agatha Christie [84]
‘And of course I hadn’t the remotest idea who had killed him! I simply couldn’t imagine who could have wanted to kill him. Absolutely nobody had a motive as far as I could see, except for myself and Rosaleen.’
‘That,’ said Poirot, ‘has been the great difficulty. Motive. You and your sister had a motive for killing Arden. Every member of the Cloade family had a motive for killing Rosaleen.’
David said sharply:
‘She was killed, then? It wasn’t suicide?’
‘No. It was a carefully premeditated well-thought-out crime. Morphia was substituted for bromide in one of her sleeping-powders — one towards the bottom of the box.’
‘In the powders.’ David frowned. ‘You don’t mean — you can’t mean Lionel Cloade?’
‘Oh, no,’ said Poirot. ‘You see, practically any of the Cloades could have substituted the morphia. Aunt Kathie could have tampered with the powders before they left the surgery. Rowley here came up to Furrowbank with butter and eggs for Rosaleen. Mrs Marchmont came there. So did Mrs Jeremy Cloade. Even Lynn Marchmont came. And one and all they had a motive.’
‘Lynn didn’t have a motive,’ cried David.
‘We all had motives,’ said Lynn. ‘That’s what you mean?’
‘Yes,’ said Poirot. ‘That is what has made the case difficult. David Hunter and Rosaleen Cloade had a motive for killing Arden — but they did not kill him. All of you Cloades had a motive for killing Rosaleen Cloade and yet none of you killed her. This case is, always has been, the wrong way round. Rosaleen Cloade was killed by the person who had most to lose by her death.’ He turned his head slightly. ‘You killed her, Mr Hunter…’
‘I?’ David cried. ‘Why on earth should I kill my own sister?’
‘You killed her because she wasn’t your sister. Rosaleen Cloade died by enemy action in London nearly two years ago. The woman you killed was a young Irish housemaid, Eileen Corrigan, whose photograph I received from Ireland today.’
He drew it from his pocket as he spoke. With lightning swiftness David snatched it from him, leapt to the door, jumped through it, and banging it behind him, was gone. With a roar of anger Rowley charged headlong after him.
Poirot and Lynn were left alone.
Lynn cried out, ‘It’s not true. It can’t be true.’
‘Oh, yes, it is true. You saw half the truth once when you fancied David Hunter was not her brother. Put it the other way and it all falls into shape. This Rosaleen was a Catholic (Underhay’s wife was not a Catholic), troubled by conscience, wildly devoted to David. Imagine his feelings on that night of the Blitz, his sister dead, Gordon Cloade dying — all that new life of ease and money snatched away from him, and then he sees this girl, very much the same age, the only survivor except for himself, blasted and unconscious. Already no doubt he has made love to her and he has no doubt he can make her do what he wants.
‘He had a way with woman,’ Poirot added dryly, without looking at Lynn who flushed.
‘He is an opportunist, he snatches his chance of fortune. He identifies her as his sister. She returns to consciousness to find him at her bedside. He persuades and cajoles her into accepting the role.
‘But imagine their consternation when the first blackmailing letter arrives. All along I have said to myself, “Is Hunter really the type of man to let himself be blackmailed so easily?” It seemed, too, that he was actually uncertain whether the man blackmailing him was Underhay or not. But how could he be uncertain? Rosaleen Cloade could tell him at once if the man were her husband or not. Why hurry her up to London before she has a chance to catch a glimpse of the man? Because — there could only be one reason — because he could not risk the man getting a glimpse of her. If the man was Underhay, he must not discover that Rosaleen Cloade was not Rosaleen Cloade at all. No, there was only one thing to be done. Pay up enough to keep the blackmailer quiet, and then — do a flit — go off to America.
‘And then, unexpectedly, the blackmailing stranger is murdered — and Major Porter identifies