The Harlequin Tea Set and Other Stories

"Ah! You did not, then, love your husband?"

"No."

"You reply with an admirable simplicity. Most women would wish to explain at great length just exactly what their feelings were. How long had you been married?"

"Eleven years."

"Can you tell me a little about your husband - what kind of a man he was?"

She frowned.

"It's difficult. I don't really know what kind of a man Arnold was. He was very quiet - very reserved. One didn't know what he was thinking. He was clever, of course - everyone said he was brilliant - in his work, I mean. He didn't - how can I put it - he never explained himself at all "

"Was he in love with you?"

"Oh, yes. He must have been. Or he wouldn't have minded so much -" she came to a sudden stop.

"About other men? That is what you were going to say? He was jealous?"

Again she said:

"He must have been." And then, as though she felt that the phrase needed explanation, she said,

"Sometimes, for days, he wouldn't speak..."

Poirot nodded thoughtfully.

"This violence - that has come into your life. Is it the first that you have known?"

"Violence?" She frowned, then flushed. "I - you mean - that poor boy who shot himself?"

"Yes," said Poirot. "I expect that is what I mean..."

"I'd no idea he felt like that... I was sorry for him - he seemed so shy - so lonely. He must have been very neurotic, I think. And there were two Italians and a duel - It was ridiculous! Anyway, nobody was killed, thank goodness. And honestly, I didn't care about either of them! I never even pretended to care."

"No. You were just - there! And where you are things happen! I have seen that before in my life. It is because you do not care that men are driven mad. But for Major Rich you do care. So we must do what we can..."

He was silent for a moment or two.

She sat there gravely, watching him.

"We turn from personalities, which are the really important things, to plain facts. I know only what has been in the papers. On the facts as given there, only two persons had the opportunity of killing your husband, only two persons could have killed him - Major Rich and Major Rich's manservant."

She said, stubbornly:

"I know Charles didn't kill him."

"So, then, it must have been the valet. You agree?"

She said doubtfully:

"I see what you mean -"

"But you are dubious about it?"

"It just seems - fantastic?

"Yet the possibility is there. Your husband undoubtedly came to the flat, since his body was found there. If the valet's story is true, Major Rich killed him. But if the valet's story is false? Then the valet killed him and hid the body in the chest before his master returned. An excellent way of disposing of the body from his point of view. He has only got to 'notice the bloodstain' the next morning and 'discover' it. Suspicion will immediately fall on Rich."

"But why should he want to kill Arnold?"

"Ah why? The motive cannot be an obvious one - or the police would have investigated it. It is possible that your husband knew something to the valet's discredit, and was about to acquaint Major Rich with the facts. Did your husband ever say anything to you about this man Burgess?"

She shook her head.

"Do you think he would have done so - if that had indeed been the case?"

She frowned.

"It's difficult to say. Possibly not. Arnold never talked much about people. I told you he was reserved. He wasn't - he was never - a chatty man."

"He was a man who kept his own counsel. Yes, now what is your opinion of Burgess?"

"He's not the kind of man you notice very much. A fairly good servant. Adequate, but not polished."

"What age?"

"About thirty-seven or -eight, I should think. He'd been an orderly in the army during the war, but he wasn't a regular soldier."

"How long had he been with Major Rich?"

"Not very long. About a year and a half, I think."

"You never noticed anything odd about his manner towards your husband?"

"We weren't there so very often. No, I noticed nothing at all."

"Tell me now about the events of that evening. What time were you invited?"

"Eight-fifteen for half past."

"And just what kind of a party was it to be?"

"Well, there would be drinks, and a kind of buffet supper - usually a very good one. Foie gras and hot toast. Smoked salmon. Sometimes there was a hot rice dish - Charles had a special recipe he'd got in the Near East - but that was more for winter. Then we used to have music - Charles had got a very good stereophonic gramophone. Both my husband and Jock McLaren were very fond of classical records. And we had dance music - the Spences were very keen dancers. It was that sort of thing - a quiet informal evening. Charles was a very good host."

"And this particular evening - it was like other evenings there? You noticed nothing unusual - nothing out of place?"

"Out of place?" she frowned for a moment. "When you said that I - no, it's gone. There was something -"