The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding - Agatha Christie [14]
‘It is the first time, I think, that Mr Lee-Wortley and his sister have been here?’
‘Yes, sir.’ A note of slight reserve crept into Mrs Ross’s voice. ‘A very nice gentleman he is but, well – it seems a funny friend for Miss Sarah to have, according to our ideas. But there – London ways are different! It’s sad that his sister’s so poorly. Had an operation, she had. She seemed all right the first day she was here, but that very day, after we’d been stirring the puddings, she was took bad again and she’s been in bed ever since. Got up too soon after her operation, I expect. Ah, doctors nowadays, they have you out of hospital before you can hardly stand on your feet. Why, my very own nephew’s wife . . .’ And Mrs Ross went into a long and spirited tale of hospital treatment as accorded to her relations, comparing it unfavourably with the consideration that had been lavished upon them in older times.
Poirot duly commiserated with her. ‘It remains,’ he said, ‘to thank you for this exquisite and sumptuous meal. You permit a little acknowledgement of my appreciation?’ A crisp five-pound note passed from his hand into that of Mrs Ross who said perfunctorily:
‘You really shouldn’t do that, sir.’
‘I insist. I insist.’
‘Well, it’s very kind of you indeed, sir.’ Mrs Ross accepted the tribute as no more than her due. ‘And I wish you, sir, a very happy Christmas and a prosperous New Year.’
V
The end of Christmas Day was like the end of most Christmas Days. The tree was lighted, a splendid Christmas cake came in for tea, was greeted with approval but was partaken of only moderately. There was cold supper.
Both Poirot and his host and hostess went to bed early.
‘Good night, M. Poirot,’ said Mrs Lacey. ‘I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself.’
‘It has been a wonderful day, Madame, wonderful.’
‘You’re looking very thoughtful,’ said Mrs Lacey.
‘It is the English pudding that I consider.’
‘You found it a little heavy, perhaps?’ asked Mrs Lacey delicately.
‘No, no, I do not speak gastronomically. I consider its significance.’
‘It’s traditional, of course,’ said Mrs Lacey. ‘Well, good night, M. Poirot, and don’t dream too much of Christmas puddings and mince-pies.’
‘Yes,’ murmured Poirot to himself as he undressed. ‘It is a problem certainly, that Christmas plum pudding. There is here something that I do not understand at all.’ He shook his head in a vexed manner. ‘Well – we shall see.’
After making certain preparations, Poirot went to bed, but not to sleep.
It was some two hours later that his patience was rewarded. The door of his bedroom opened very gently. He smiled to himself. It was as he had thought it would be. His mind went back fleetingly to the cup of coffee so politely handed him by Desmond Lee-Wortley. A little later, when Desmond’s back was turned, he had laid the cup down for a few moments on a table. He had then apparently picked it up again and Desmond had had the satisfaction, if satisfaction it was, of seeing him drink the coffee to the last drop. But a little smile lifted Poirot’s moustache as he reflected that it was not he but someone else who was sleeping a good sound sleep tonight. ‘That pleasant young David,’ said Poirot to himself, ‘he is worried, unhappy. It will do him no harm to have a night’s really sound sleep. And now, let us see what will happen?’
He lay quite still, breathing in an even manner with occasionally a suggestion, but the very faintest suggestion, of a snore.
Someone came up to the bed and bent over him. Then, satisfied, that someone turned away and went to the dressing-table. By the light of a tiny torch the visitor was examining Poirot’s belongings neatly arranged on top of the dressing-table. Fingers explored the wallet, gently pulled open the drawers of the dressing-table, then extended the search to the pockets of Poirot’s clothes. Finally the visitor approached the bed and with great caution slid his hand under the pillow. Withdrawing his hand, he stood for a moment or two as though uncertain what to do next. He walked round the room looking inside ornaments, went into the adjoining