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?’
‘She was standing by the far window, sir. She was holding the curtain a little back and looking out.’
‘And none of the other ladies were in the room?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Do you know where they were?’
‘I couldn’t say at all, sir.’
‘You don’t know where anyone else was?’
‘Mr David, I think, was playing in the music-room next door to the drawing-room.’
‘You heard him playing?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Again the old man shivered. ‘It was like a sign, sir, so I felt afterwards. It was the “Dead March” he was playing. Even at the time, I remember, it gave me the creeps.’
‘It is curious, yes,’ said Poirot.
‘Now, about this fellow, Horbury, the valet,’ said the chief constable. ‘Are you definitely prepared to swear that he was out of the house by eight o’clock?’
‘Oh yes, sir. It was just after Mr Sugden here arrived. I remember particular because he broke a coffee-cup.’
Poirot said:
‘Horbury broke a coffee-cup?’
‘Yes, sir—one of the old Worcester ones. Eleven years I’ve washed them up and never one broken till this evening.’
Poirot said:
‘What was Horbury doing with the coffee-cups?’
‘Well, of course, sir, he’d no business to have been handling them at all. He was just holding one up, admiring it like, and I happened to mention that Mr Sugden had called, and he dropped it.’
Poirot said:
‘Did you say “Mr Sugden” or did you mention the word police?’
Tressilian looked a little startled.
‘Now I come to think of it, sir, I mentioned that the police superintendent had called.’
‘And Horbury dropped the coffee-cup,’ said Poirot.
‘Seems suggestive, that,’ said the chief constable. ‘Did Horbury ask any questions about the superintendent’s visit?’
‘Yes, sir, asked what he wanted here. I said he’d come collecting for the Police Orphanage and had gone up to Mr Lee.’
‘Did Horbury seemed relieved when you said that?’
‘Do you know, sir, now you mention it, he certainly did. His manner changed at once. Said Mr Lee was a good old chap and free with his money—rather disrepectfully he spoke—and then he went off.’
‘Which way?’
‘Out through the door to the servants’ hall.’
Sugden interposed:
‘All that’s O.K., sir. He passed through the kitchen, where the cook and the kitchenmaid saw him, and out through the back door.’
‘Now listen, Tressilian, and think carefully. Is there any means by which Horbury could return to the house without anyone seeing him?’
The old man shook his head.
‘I don’t see how he could have done so, sir. All the doors are locked on the inside.’
‘Supposing he had had a key?’
‘The doors are bolted as well.’
‘How does he get in when he comes?’
‘He has a key of the back door, sir. All the servants come in that way.’
‘He could have returned that way, then?’
‘Not without passing through the kitchen, sir. And the kitchen would be occupied till well after half-past nine or a quarter to ten.’
Colonel Johnson said:
‘That seems conclusive. Thank you, Tressilian.’
The old man got up and with a bow left the room. He returned, however, a minute or two later.
‘Horbury has just returned, sir. Would you like to see him now?’
‘Yes, please, send him in at once.’
XVII
Sydney Horbury did not present a very prepossessing appearance. He came into the room and stood rubbing his hands together and darting quick looks from one person to another. His manner was unctuous.
Johnson said:
‘You’re Sydney Horbury?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Valet attendant to the late Mr Lee?’
‘Yes, sir. It’s terrible, isn’t it? You could have knocked me down with a feather when I heard from Gladys. Poor old gentleman—’
Johnson cut him short.
‘Just answer my questions, please.’
‘Yes, sir, certainly, sir.’
‘What time did you go out tonight, and where have you been?’
‘I left the house just before eight, sir. I went to the Superb, sir, just five minutes’ walk away. Love in Old Seville was the picture, sir.’
‘Anyone who saw you there?’
‘The young lady in the box office, sir, she knows me. And the commissionaire at the door, he knows me too. And—er—as a matter of fact, I was with a young lady, sir. I met her there by appointment.’
‘Oh, you did, did you? What’s her name?’
‘Doris Buckle, sir. She works in the Combined Dairies, sir, 23, Markham Road.’
‘Good. We’ll look into that. Did you come straight home?’
‘I saw my young lady home first, sir. Then I came straight back. You’ll find it’s quite all right, sir. I didn’t have anything to do with this. I was—’
Colonel Johnson said curtly:
‘Nobody’s accusing you of having anything to do with it.’
‘No, sir, of course not, sir. But it’s not very pleasant when a murder happens in a house.’
‘Nobody said it was. Now, then, how long had you been in Mr Lee’s service?’
‘Just over a year, sir.’
‘Did you like your place here?’
‘Yes, sir. I was quite satisfied. The pay was good. Mr Lee was rather difficult sometimes, but of course I’m used to attending on invalids.’
‘You’ve had previous experience?’
‘Oh, yes, sir. I was with Major West and with the Honourable Jasper Finch—’
‘You can give all those particulars to Sugden later. What I want to know is this: At what time did you last see Mr Lee this evening?’
‘It was about half-past seven, s
ir. Mr Lee had a light supper brought to him every evening at seven o’clock. I then prepared him for bed. After that he would sit in front of the fire in his dressing-gown till he felt like going to bed.’
‘What time was that usually?’
‘It varied, sir. Sometimes he would go to bed as early as eight o’clock—that’s if he felt tired. Sometimes he would sit up till eleven or after.’
‘What did he do when he did want to go to bed?’
‘Usually he rang for me, sir.’
‘And you assisted him to bed?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘But this was your evening out. Did you always have Fridays?’
‘Yes, sir. Friday was my regular day.’
‘What happened then when Mr Lee wanted to go to bed?’
‘He would ring his bell and either Tressilian or Walter would see to him.’
‘He was not helpless? He could move about?’
‘Yes, sir, but not very easily. Rheumatoid arthritis was what he suffered from, sir. He was worse some days than others.’
‘Did he never go into another room in the daytime?’
‘No, sir. He preferred to be in just the one room. Mr Lee wasn’t luxurious in his tastes. It was a big room with plenty of air and light in it.’
‘Mr Lee had his supper at seven, you say?’
‘Yes, sir. I took the tray away and put out the sherry and two glasses on the bureau.’
‘Why did you do that?’
‘Mr Lee’s orders.’
‘Was that usual?’
‘Sometimes. It was the rule that none of the family came to see Mr Lee in the evening unless he invited them. Some evenings he liked to be alone. Other evenings he’d send down and ask Mr Alfred, or Mrs Alfred, or both of them, to come up after dinner.’
‘But, as far as you know, he had not done so on this occasion? That is, he had not sent a message to any member of the family requesting their presence?’
‘He hadn’t sent any message by me, sir.’
‘So that he wasn’t expecting any of the family?’
‘He might have asked one of them personally, sir.’
‘Of course.’
Horbury continued:
‘I saw that everything was in order, wished Mr Lee goodnight and left the room.’
Poirot asked:
‘Did you make up the fire before you left the room?’
The valet hesitated.
‘It wasn’t necessary, sir. It was well built up.’
‘Could Mr Lee have done that himself?’
‘Oh no, sir. I expect Mr Harry Lee had done it.’
‘Mr Harry Lee was with him when you came in before supper?’
‘Yes, sir. He went away when I came.’
‘What was the relationship between the two as far as you could judge?’
‘Mr Harry Lee seemed in very good spirits, sir. Throwing back his head and laughing a good deal.’
‘And Mr Lee?’
‘He was quiet and rather thoughtful.’
‘I see. Now, there’s something more I want to know, Horbury: What can you tell us about the diamonds Mr Lee kept in his safe?’
‘Diamonds, sir? I never saw any diamonds.’
‘Mr Lee kept a quantity of uncut stones there. You must have seen him handling them.’
‘Those funny little pebbles, sir? Yes, I did see him with them once or twice. But I didn’t know they were diamonds. He was showing them to the foreign young lady only yesterday—or was it the day before?’
Colonel Johnson said abruptly:
‘These stones have been stolen.’
Horbury cried out:
‘I hope you don’t think, sir, that I had anything to do with it!’
‘I’m not making any accusations,’ said Johnson. ‘Now then, is there anything you can tell us that has any bearing on this matter?’
‘The diamonds, sir? Or the murder?’
‘Both.’
‘Horbury considered. He passed his tongue over his pale lips. At last he looked up with eyes that were a shade furtive.
‘I don’t think there’s anything, sir.’
Poirot said softly:
‘Nothing you’ve overheard, say, in the course of your duties, which might be helpful?’
The valet’s eyelids flickered a little.
‘No, sir, I don’t think so, sir. There was a little awkwardness between Mr Lee and—and some members of his family.’
‘Which members?’
‘I gathered there was a little trouble over Mr Harry Lee’s return. Mr Alfred Lee resented it. I understand he and his father had a few words about it—but that was all there was to it. Mr Lee didn’t accuse him for a minute of having taken any diamonds. And I’m sure Mr Alfred wouldn’t do such a thing.’
Poirot said quickly:
‘His interview with Mr Alfred was after he had discovered the loss of the diamonds, was it not, though?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Poirot leaned forward.
‘I thought, Horbury,’ he said softly, ‘that you did not know of the theft of the diamonds until we informed you of it just now. How, then, do you know that Mr Lee had discovered his loss before he had this conversation with his son?’
Horbury turned brick red.
‘No use lying. Out with it,’ said Sugden. ‘When did you know?’
Horbury said sullenly:
‘I heard him telephoning to someone about it.’
‘You weren’t in the room?’
‘No, outside the door. Couldn’t hear much—only a word or two.’
‘What did you hear exactly?’ asked Poirot sweetly.
‘I heard the words robbery and diamonds, and I heard him say, “I don’t know who to suspect”—and I heard him say something about this evening at eight o’clock.’
Superintendent Sugden nodded.
‘That was to me he was speaking, my lad. About five-ten, was it?’
‘That’s right, sir.’
‘And when you went into his room afterwards, did he look upset?’
‘Just a bit, sir. Seemed absent-minded and worried.’
‘So much so that you got the wind up—eh?’
‘Look here, Mr Sugden, I won’t have you saying things like that. Never touched any diamonds, I didn’t, and you can’t prove I did. I’m not a thief.’
Superintendent Sugden, unimpressed, said:
‘That remains to be seen.’ He glanced questioningly at the chief constable, received a nod, and went on: ‘That’ll do for you, my lad. Shan’t want you again tonight.’
Horbury went out gratefully in haste.
Sugden said appreciatively:
‘Pretty bit of work, M. Poirot. You trapped him as neatly as I’ve ever seen it done. He may be a thief or he may not, but he’s certainly a first-class liar!’
‘An unprepossessing person,’ said Poirot.
‘Nasty bit of goods,’ agreed Johnson. ‘Question is, what do we think of his evidence?’
Sugden summarized the position neatly.
‘Seems to me there are three possibilities: (1) Horbury’s a thief and a murderer. (2) Horbury’s a thief, but not a murderer. (3) Horbury’s an innocent man. Certain amount of evidence for (1). He overheard telephone call and knew the theft had been discovered. Gathered from old man’s manner that he was suspected. Made his plans accordingly. Went out ostentatiously at eight o’clock and cooked up an alibi. Easy enough to slip out of a cinema and return there unnoticed. He’d have to be pretty sure of the girl, though, that she wouldn’t give him away. I’ll see what I can get out of her tomorrow.’
‘How, then, did he manage to re-enter the house?’ asked Poirot.
‘That’s more difficult,’ Sugden admitted. ‘But there might be ways. Say one of the women servants unlocked a side door for him.’
Poirot raised his eyebrows quizzically.
‘He places, then, his life at the mercy of two women? With one woman it would be taking a big risk; with two—eh bien
, I find the risk fantastic!’
Sugden said:
‘Some criminals think they can get away with anything!’
He went on:
‘Let’s take (2). Horbury pinched those diamonds. He took ’em out of the house tonight and has possibly passed them on to some accomplice. That’s quite easy going and highly probable. Now we’ve got to admit that somebody else chose this night to murder Mr Lee. That somebody being quite unaware of the diamond complication. It’s possible, of course, but it’s a bit of a coincidence.
‘Possibility (3)—Horbury’s innocent. Somebody else both took the diamonds and murdered the old gentleman. There it is; it’s up to us to get at the truth.’
Colonel Johnson yawned. He looked again at his watch and got up.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘I think we’ll call it a night, eh? Better just have a look in the safe before we go. Odd thing if those wretched diamonds were there all the time.’
But the diamonds were not in the safe. They found the combination where Alfred Lee had told them, in the small note-book taken from the dressing-gown pocket of the dead man. In the safe they found an empty chamois-leather bag. Among the papers the safe contained only one was of interest.
It was a will dated some fifteen years previously. After various legacies and bequests, the provisions were simple enough. Half Simeon Lee’s fortune went to Alfred Lee. The other half was to be divided in equal shares between his remaining children: Harry, George, David and Jennifer.
Part 4
December 25th
In the bright sun of Christmas noon, Poirot walked in the gardens of Gorston Hall. The Hall itself was a large solidly built house with no special architectural pretensions.
Here, on the south side, was a broad terrace flanked with a hedge of clipped yew. Little plants grew in the interstices of the stone flags and at intervals along the terrace there were stone sinks arranged as miniature gardens.
Poirot surveyed them with benign approval. He murmured to himself:
‘C’est bien imaginé, c¸a!’
In the distance he caught sight of two figures going towards an ornamental sheet of water some three hundred yards away. Pilar was easily recognizable as one of the figures, and he thought at first the other was Stephen Farr, then he saw that the man with Pilar was Harry Lee. Harry seemed very attentive to his attractive niece. At intervals he flung his head back and laughed, then bent once more attentively towards her.