Hercule Poirot's Christmas

‘But I’m wandering from the point. You wanted to know what was the last time I saw my father? As I’ve told you, it was after tea – might have been a little past six. The old man was in good spirits then – a bit tired, perhaps. I went away and left him with Horbury. I never saw him again.’

‘Where were you at the time of his death?’

‘In the dining-room with brother Alfred. Not a very harmonious after-dinner session. We were in the middle of a pretty sharp argument when we heard the noise overhead. Sounded as though ten men were wrestling up there. And then poor old Father screamed. It was like killing a pig. The sound of it paralysed Alfred. He just sat there with his jaw dropping. I fairly shook him back to life, and we started off upstairs. The door was locked. Had to break it open. Took some doing, too. How the devil that door came to be locked, I can’t imagine! There was no one in the room but Father, and I’m damned if anyone could have got away through the windows.’

Superintendent Sugden said:

‘The door was locked from the outside.’

‘What?’ Harry stared. ‘But I’ll swear the key was on the inside.’

Poirot murmured:

‘So you noticed that?’

Harry Lee said sharply:

‘I do notice things. It’s a habit of mine.’

He looked sharply from one face to the other.

‘Is there anything more you want to know, gentlemen?’

Johnson shook his head.

‘Thank you, Mr Lee, not for the moment. Perhaps you will ask the next member of the family to come along?’

‘Certainly I will.’

He walked to the door and went out without looking back.

The three men looked at each other.

Colonel Johnson said:

‘What about it, Sugden?’

The superintendent shook his head doubtfully. He said:

‘He’s afraid of something. I wonder why?…’

XI

Magdalene Lee paused effectively in the doorway. One long slender hand touched the burnished platinum sheen of her hair. The leaf-green velvet frock she wore clung to the delicate lines of her figure. She looked very young and a little frightened.

The three men were arrested for a moment looking at her. Johnson’s eyes showed a sudden surprised admiration. Superintendent Sugden’s showed no animation, merely the impatience of a man anxious to get on with his job. Hercule Poirot’s eyes were deeply appreciative (as she saw) but the appreciation was not for her beauty, but for the effective use she made of it. She did not know that he was thinking to himself:

‘Jolie mannequin, la petite. Mais elle a les yeux durs.’

Colonel Johnson was thinking:

‘Damned good-looking girl. George Lee will have trouble with her if he doesn’t look out. Got an eye for a man all right.’

Superintendent Sugden was thinking:

‘Empty-headed vain piece of goods. Hope we get through with her quickly.’

‘Will you sit down, Mrs Lee? Let me see, you are – ?’

‘Mrs George Lee.’

She accepted the chair with a warm smile of thanks. ‘After all,’ the glance seemed to say, ‘although youare a man and a policeman, you are not so dreadful after all.’

The tail-end of the smile included Poirot. Foreigners were so susceptible where women were concerned. About Superintendent Sugden she did not bother.

She murmured, twisting her hands together in a pretty distress:

‘It’s all so terrible. I feel so frightened.’

‘Come, come, Mrs Lee,’ said Colonel Johnson kindly but briskly. ‘It’s been a shock, I know, but it’s all over now. We just want an account from you of what happened this evening.’

She cried out:

‘But I don’t know anything about it – I don’t indeed.’

For a moment the chief constable’s eyes narrowed. He said gently: ‘No, of course not.’

‘We only arrived here yesterday. George would make me come here for Christmas! I wish we hadn’t. I’m sure I shall never feel the same again!’

‘Very upsetting – yes.’

‘I hardly know George’s family, you see. I’ve only seen Mr Lee once or twice – at our wedding and once since. Of course I’ve seen Alfred and Lydia more often, but they’re really all quite strangers to me.’

Again the wide-eyed frightened-child look. Again Hercule Poirot’s eyes were appreciative – and again he thought to himself: 

‘Elle joue très bien la comédie, cette petite…’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Colonel Johnson. ‘Now just tell me about the last time you saw your father-in-law – Mr Lee – alive.’

‘Oh, that! That was this afternoon. It was dreadful!’

Johnson said quickly:

‘Dreadful? Why?’

‘They were so angry!’

‘Who was angry?’

‘Oh, all of them…I don’t mean George. His father didn’t say anything to him. But all the others.’

‘What happened exactly?’

‘Well, when we got there – he asked for all of us – he was speaking into the telephone – to his lawyers about his will. And then he told Alfred he was looking very glum. I think that was because of Harry coming home to live. Alfred was very upset about that, I believe. You see, Harry did something quite dreadful. And then he said something about his wife – she’s dead long ago – but she had the brains of a louse, he said, and David sprang up and looked as though he’d like to murder him – Oh!’ She stopped suddenly, her eyes alarmed. ‘I didn’t mean that – I didn’t mean it at all!’