Hercule Poirot's Christmas

‘All the same, it’s incredible, you know. Here’s a particularly crude and brutal murder – and whom have we as suspects? Alfred Lee and his wife – both charming, well – bred, quiet people. George Lee, who’s a Member of Parliament and the essence of respectability. His wife? She’s just an ordinary modern lovely. David Lee seems a gentle creature and we’ve got his brother Harry’s word for it that he can’t stand the sight of blood. His wife seems a nice sensible woman – quite commonplace. Remains the Spanish niece and the man from South Africa. Spanish beauties have hot tempers, but I don’t see that attractive creature slitting the old man’s neck in cold blood, especially as from what has come out she had every reason to keep him alive – at any rate until he had signed a new will. Stephen Farr’s a possibility – that is to say, he may be a professional crook and have come here after the diamonds. The old man discovered the loss and Farr slit his throat to keep him quiet. That could have been so – that gramophone alibi isn’t too good.’

Poirot shook his head.

‘My dear friend,’ he said. ‘Compare the physique of M. Stephen Farr and old Simeon Lee. If Farr decided to kill the old man he could have done it in a minute – Simeon Lee couldn’t possibly have put up that fight against him. Can one believe that that frail old man and that magnificent specimen of humanity struggled for some minutes overturning chairs and breaking china? To imagine such a thing is fantastic!’

Colonel Johnson’s eyes narrowed.

‘You mean,’ he said, ‘that it was aweak man who killed Simeon Lee?’

‘Or a woman!’ said the superintendent.

XVI

Colonel Johnson looked at his watch.

‘Nothing much more that I can do here. You’ve got things well in hand, Sugden. Oh, just one thing. We ought to see the butler fellow. I know you’ve questioned him, but we know a bit more about things now. It’s important to get confirmation of just where everybody says he was at the time of the murder.’

Tressilian came in slowly. The chief constable told him to sit down.

‘Thank you, sir. I will, if you don’t mind. I’ve been feeling very queer – very queer indeed. My legs, sir, and my head.’

Poirot said gently: ‘You have had the shock, yes.’

The butler shuddered. ‘Such – such a violent thing to happen. In this house! Where everything has always gone on so quietly.’

Poirot said:

‘It was a well-ordered house, yes? But not a happy one?’

‘I wouldn’t like to say that, sir.’

‘In the old days when all the family was at home, it was happy then?’

Tressilian said slowly:

‘It wasn’t perhaps what one would call very harmonious, sir.’

‘The late Mrs Lee was somewhat of an invalid, was she not?’

‘Yes, sir, very poorly she was.’

‘Were her children fond of her?’

‘Mr David, he was devoted to her. More like a daughter than a son. And after she died he broke away, couldn’t face living here any longer.’

Poirot said: ‘And Mr Harry? What was he like?’

‘Always rather a wild young gentleman, sir, but good-hearted. Oh, dear, gave me quite a turn, it did, when the bell rang – and then again, so impatient like, and I opened the door and there was a strange man, and then Mr Harry’s voice said, “Hallo, Tressilian. Still here, eh?” Just the same as ever.’

Poirot said sympathetically:

‘It must have been the strange feeling, yes, indeed.’ 

Tressilian said, a little pink flush showing in his cheek:

‘It seems sometimes, sir, as though the past isn’t the past! I believe there’s been a play on in London about something like that. There’s something in it, sir – there really is. There’s a feeling comes over you – as though you’d done everything before. It just seems to me as though the bell rings and I go to answer it and there’s Mr Harry – even if it should be Mr Farr or some other person – I’m just saying to myself – but I’ve done this before…’

Poirot said:

‘That is very interesting – very interesting.’

Tressilian looked at him gratefully.

Johnson, somewhat impatient, cleared his throat and took charge of the conversation.

‘Just want to get various times checked correctly,’ he said. ‘Now, when the noise upstairs started, I understand that only Mr Alfred Lee and Mr Harry Lee were in the dining-room. Is that so?’

‘I really couldn’t tell you, sir. All the gentlemen were there when I served coffee to them – but that would be about a quarter of an hour earlier.’

‘Mr George Lee was telephoning. Can you confirm that?’

‘I think somebody did telephone, sir. The bell rings in my pantry, and when anybody takes off the receiver to call a number, there’s just a faint noise on the bell. I do remember hearing that, but I didn’t pay attention to it.’

‘You don’t know exactly when it was?’

‘I couldn’t say, sir. It was after I had taken coffee to the gentlemen, that is all I can say.’

‘Do you know where any of the ladies were at the time I mentioned?’

‘Mrs Alfred was in the drawing-room, sir, when I went for the coffee tray. That was just a minute or two before I heard the cry upstairs.’

Poirot asked:

‘What was she doing?’