Cards on the Table hp-15 Page 4

"Miss Meredith's. The first rubber."

  "So this unfinished one is Doctor Roberts's?"

  "Yes. "

  "Thank you, madame. I think that is all."

  Mrs. Lorrimer turned to Mrs. Oliver.

  "Good night, Mrs. Oliver. Good night, Colonel Race."

  Then, having shaken hands with all four of them, she went out.

  Chapter 6

  THIRD MURDERER?

  "Didn't get any extra change out of her," commented Battle. "Put me in my place, too. She's the old-fashioned kind, full of consideration for others but arrogant as the devil! I can't believe she did it, but you never know! She's got plenty of resolution. What's the idea of the bridge scores, Monsieur Poirot?"

  Poirot spread them out on the table.

  "They are illuminating, do you not think? What do we want in this case? A clue to character. And a clue not to one character, but to four characters. And this is where we are most likely to find it – in these scribbled figures. Here is the first rubber, you see – a tame business, soon over. Small neat figures – careful addition and subtraction – that is Miss Meredith's score. She was playing with Mrs. Lorrimer. They had the cards and they won.

  "In this next one it is not so easy to follow the play, since it is kept in the cancellation style. But it tells us perhaps something about Major Despard – a man who likes the whole time to know at a glance where he stands. The figures are small and full of character.

  "This next score is Mrs. Lorrimer's – she and Doctor Roberts against the other two – a Homeric combat, figures mounting up above the line each side. Overbidding on the doctor's part and they go down – but since they are both first-class players they never go down very much. If the doctor's overbidding induces rash bidding on the other side there is the chance seized of doubling. See – these figures here are doubled tricks gone down. A characteristic handwriting, graceful, very legible, firm.

  "Here is the last score – the unfinished rubber. I collected one score in each person's handwriting, you see. Figures rather flamboyant. Not such high scores as the preceding rubber. That is probably because the doctor was playing with Miss Meredith and she is a timid player. His calling would make her more so!

  "You think, perhaps, that they are foolish, these questions that I ask? But it is not so. I want to get at the characters of these four players, and when it is only about bridge I ask, everyone is ready and willing to speak."

  "I never think your questions foolish, Monsieur Poirot," said Battle. "I've seen too much of your work. Everyone's got his own ways of working. I know that. I give my inspectors a free hand always. Everyone's got to find out for himself what method suits him best. But we'd better not discuss that now. We'll have the girl in."

  Anne Meredith was upset. She stopped in the doorway. Her breath came unevenly.

  Superintendent Battle was immediately fatherly. He rose, set a chair for her at a slightly different angle.

  "Sit down, Miss Meredith, sit down. Now don't be alarmed. I know all this seems rather dreadful, but it's not so bad really."

  "I don't think anything could be worse," and the girl in a low voice. "It's so awful – so awful – to think that one of us – that one of us -"

  "You let me do the thinking," said Battle kindly. "Now then, Miss Meredith, suppose we have your address first of all."

  "Wendon Cottage, Wallingford."

  "No address in town?"

  "No, I'm staying at my club for a day or two."

  "And your club is?"

  "Ladies' Naval and Military."

  "Good. Now then, Miss Meredith, how well did you know Mr. Shaitana?"

  "I didn't know him well at all. I always thought he was a most frightening man."

  "Why?"

  "Oh, well, he was! That awful smile! And a way he had of bending over you. As though he might bite you."

  "Had you known him long?"

  "About nine months. I met him in Switzerland during the winter sports."

  "I should never have thought he went in for winter sports," said Battle, surprised.

  "He only skated. He was a marvelous skater. Lots of figures and tricks."

  "Yes, that sounds more like him. And did you see much of him after that?"

  "Well – a fair amount. He asked me to parties and things like that. They were rather fun,"

  "But you didn't like him himself?"

  "No, I thought he was a shivery kind of man."

  Battle said gently, "But you'd no special reason for being afraid of him?"

  Anne Meredith raised wide limpid eyes to his.

  "Special reason? Oh, no."

  "That's all right then. Now about tonight, did you leave your seat at all?"

  "I don't think so. Oh, yes, I may have done so once. I went round to look at the others' hands."

  "But you stayed by the bridge table all the time?"

  "Yes."

  "Quite sure, Miss Meredith?"

  The girl's cheeks flamed suddenly.

  "No – no I think I walked about."

  "Right. You'll excuse me, Miss Meredith, but try and speak the truth. I know you're nervous, and when one's nervous one's apt to – well, to say the thing the way you want it to be. But that doesn't really pay in the end. You walked about. Did you walk over in the direction of Mr. Shaitana?"

  The girl was silent for a minute then she said, "Honestly – honestly – I don't remember."

  "Well, we'll leave it that you may have. Know anything about the other three?"

  The girl shook her head.

  "I've never seen any of them before."

  "What do you think of them? Any likely murderers among them?"

  "I can't believe it. I just can't believe it. It couldn't be Major Despard. And I don't believe it could be the doctor. After all a doctor could kill anyone in so much easier ways. A drug – something like that."

  "Then, if it's anyone, you think it's Mrs. Lorrimer."

  "Oh, I don't. I'm sure she wouldn't. She's so charming – and so kind to play bridge with. She's so good herself and yet she doesn't make one feel nervous, or point out one's mistakes."

  "Yet you left her name to the last," said Battle.

  "Only because stabbing seems somehow more like a woman."

  Battle did his conjuring trick. Anne Meredith shrank back. "Oh, horrible! Must I – take it?"

  "I'd rather you did."

  He watched her as she took the stiletto gingerly, her face contracted with repulsion.

  "With this tiny thing – with this -"

  "Go in like butter," said Battle with gusto. "A child could do it."

  "You mean – you mean," wide, terrified eyes fixed themselves on his face, "that I might have done it. But I didn't. Oh! I didn't! Why should I?"

  "That's just the question we'd like to know," said Battle. "What's the motive? Why did anyone want to kill Shaitana? He was a picturesque person but he wasn't dangerous as far as I can make out."

  Was there a slight indrawing of her breath – a sudden lifting of her breast?

  "Not a blackmailer, for instance, or anything of that sort," went on Battle. "And anyway, Miss Meredith, you don't look the sort of girl who's got a lot of guilty secrets."

  For the first time she smiled, reassured by his geniality.

  "No, indeed I haven't. I haven't got any secrets at all."

  "Then don't you worry, Miss Meredith. We shall have to come round and ask you a few more questions, I expect, but it will be all a matter of routine."

  He got up. "Now you go off. My constable will get you a taxi, and don't you lie awake worrying yourself. Take a couple of aspirins."

  He ushered her out. As he came back Colonel Race said in a low, amused voice, " Battle, what a really accomplished liar you are! Your fatherly air was unsurpassed."

  "No good dallying about with her, Colonel Race. Either the poor kid is dead scared – in which case it's cruelty, and I'm not a cruel man; I never have been – or she's a highly accomplished little actress and we shouldn't get any
farther if we were to keep her here half the night."

  Mrs. Oliver gave a sigh and ran her hands freely through her fringe until it stood upright and gave her a wholly drunken appearance. "Do you know," she said, "I rather believe now that she did it! It's lucky it's not in a book. They don't really like the young and beautiful girl to have done it. All the same, I rather think she did. What do you think, Monsieur Poirot?"

  "Me, I have just made a discovery."

  "In the bridge scores again?"

  "Yes, Miss Anne Meredith turns her score over, draws lines, and uses the back."

  "And what does that mean?"

  "It means she has the habit of poverty or else is of a naturally economical turn of mind."

  "She's expensively dressed," said Mrs Oliver.

  "Send in Major Despard," said Superintendent Battle.

  Chapter 7

  FOURTH MURDERER?

  Despard entered the rood with a quick springing step – a step that reminded Poirot of something or someone.

  "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting all this while, Major Despard," said Battle. "But I wanted to let the ladies get away as soon as possible."

  "Don't apologize. I understand." He sat down and looked inquiringly at the superintendent.

  "How well did you know Mr. Shaitana?" began the latter.

  "I've met him twice," said Despard crisply.

  "Only twice?"

  "That's all."

  "On what occasions?"

  "About a month ago we were both dining at the same house. Then he asked me to a cocktail party a week later."

  "A cocktail party here?"

  "Yes."

  "Where did it take place – this room or the drawing-room?"

  "In all the rooms."

  "See this little thing lying about?"

  Battle once more produced the stiletto.

  Major Despard's lip twisted slightly.

  "No," he said, "I didn't mark it down on that occasion for future use."

  "There's no need to go ahead of what I say, Major Despard."

  "I beg your pardon. The inference was fairly obvious."

  There was a moment's pause, then Battle resumed his inquiries.

  "Had you any motive for disliking Mr. Shaitana?"

  "Every motive."

  "Eh?" The superintendent sounded startled.

  "For disliking him – not for killing him, said Despard. "I hadn't the least wish to kill him, but I would thoroughly have enjoyed kicking him. A pity. It's too late now."

  "Why did you want to kick him, Major Despard?"

  "Because he was the sort of rat who needed kicking badly. He used to make the toe of my boot fairly itch."

  "Know anything about him – to his discredit, I mean?"

  "He was too well dressed; he wore his hair too long, and he smelled of scent."

  "Yet you accepted his invitation to dinner," Battle pointed out.

  "If I were only to dine in houses where I thoroughly approved of my host I'm afraid, I shouldn't dine out very much, Superintendent Battle," said Despard dryly.

  "You like society, but you don't approve of it?" suggested the other.

  "I like it for very short periods. To come back from the wilds to lighted rooms and women in lovely clothes, to dancing and good food, and laughter – yes, I enjoy that – for a time. And then the insincerity of it all sickens me and I want to be off again."

  "It must be a dangerous sort of life that you lead, Major Despard, wandering about in these wild places."

  Despard shrugged his shoulders, He smiled slightly.

  "Mr. Shaitana didn't lead a dangerous life – but he is dead, and I am alive!"

  "He may have led a more dangerous life than you think," said Battle meaningly.

  "What do you mean?"

  "The late Mr. Shaitana was a bit of a Nosy Parker," said Battle.

  The other leaned forward. "You mean that he meddled with other people's lives – that he discovered – what?"

  "I really meant that perhaps he was the sort of man who meddled – er – well, with women."

  Major Despard leaned back, in his chair. He laughed, an amused but indifferent laugh.

  "I don't think women would take a mountebank like that seriously."

  "What's your theory of who killed him, Major Despard?"

  "Well I know I didn't. Little Miss Meredith didn't. I can't imagine Mrs. Lorrimer doing so – she reminds me of one of my more God-fearing aunts. That leaves the medical gentleman."

  "Can you describe your own and other people's movements this evening?"

  "I got up twice – once for an ash tray and I also poked the fire – and once for a drink."

  "At what times?"

  "I couldn't say. First time might have been about half-past ten, the second time eleven, but that's pure guesswork, Mrs. Lorrimer went over to the fire once and said something to Shaitana. I didn't actually hear him answer, but then I wasn't paying attention. I couldn't swear he didn't. Miss Meredith wandered about the room a bit, but I don't think she went over near the fireplace. Roberts was always jumping up and down – three or four times at least."

  "I'll ask you Monsieur Poirot's question," said Battle with a smile. "What did you think of them as bridge players?"

  "Miss Meredith's quite a good player. Roberts overbids his hand disgracefully. He deserves to go down more than he does. Mrs. Lorrimer's damned good."

  Battle turned to Poirot.

  "Anything else, Monsieur Poirot?"

  Poirot shook his head.

  Despard gave his address as the Albany, wished them good night, and left the room.

  As he closed the door behind him, Poirot made a slight movement. "What is it?" demanded Battle.

  "Nothing," said Poirot. "It just occurred to me that he walks like a tiger – yes, just so, lithe, easy, does the tiger move along."

  "H'm!" said Battle. "Now then," his eye glanced round at his three companions, "which of 'em did it?"

  Chapter 8

  WHICH OF THEM?

  Battle looked from one face to another. Only one person answered his question. Mrs. Oliver, never averse to giving her views, rushed into speech.

  "The girl or the doctor," she said.

  Battle looked questioningly at the other two. But both the men were unwilling to make a pronouncement. Race shook his head. Poirot carefully smoothed his crumpled bridge scores.

  "One of 'em did it," said Battle. "One of 'em's lying like hell. But which? It's not easy – no, it's not easy."

  He was silent for a minute or two, then he said, "If we're to go by what they say, the medico thinks Despard did it, Despard thinks the medico did it, the girl thinks Mrs. Lorrimer did it – and Mrs. Lorrimer won't say! Nothing very illuminating there."

  "Perhaps not," said Poirot.

  Battle shot him a quick glance.

  "You think there is?"

  Poirot waved an airy hand.

  "A nuance – nothing more! Nothing to go upon."

  Battle continued. "You two gentlemen won't say what you think -"

  "No evidence," said Race curtly.

  "Oh, you men!" sighed Mrs. Oliver, despising such reticence.

  "Let's look at the rough possibilities," said Battle. He considered a minute. "I put the doctor first, I think. Specious sort of customer. Would know the right spot to shove the dagger in. But there's not much more than that to it. Then take Despard. There's a man with any amount of nerve. A man accustomed to take quick decisions and a man who's quite at home doing dangerous things. Mrs. Lorrimer? She's got any amount of nerve, too, and she's the sort of woman who might have a secret in her life. She looks as though she's known trouble. On the other hand I'd say she's what I call a high principled woman – sort of woman who might be headmistress of a girls' school. It isn't easy to think of her sticking a knife into anyone. In fact, I don't think she did. And lastly there's little Miss Meredith. We don't know anything about her. She seems an ordinary, good-looking, rather shy girl. But one doesn't know, as I
say, anything about her."

  "We know that Shaitana believed she had committed murder," said Poirot.

  "The angelic face masking the demon," mused Mrs. Oliver.

  "This getting us anywhere, Battle?" asked Colonel Race.

  "Unprofitable speculation, you think, sir? Well, there's bound to be speculation in a case like this."

  "Isn't it better to find out something about these people?"

  Battle smiled. "Oh, we shall be hard at work on that. I think you could help us there."

  "Certainly. How?"

  "As regards Major Despard. He's been abroad a lot – in South America, in East Africa, in South Africa – you've means of knowing those parts. You could get information about him." Race nodded.

  "It shall be done. I'll get all available data."

  "Oh," cried Mrs. Oliver. "I've got a plan. There are four of us – four sleuths as you might say – and four of them! How would it be if we each took one? Backed our fancy! Colonel Race takes Major Despard, Superintendent Battle takes Doctor Roberts. I'll take Anne Meredith, and Monsieur Poirot takes Mrs. Lorrimer. Each of us to follow our own line!"

  Superintendent Battle shook his head decisively.

  "Couldn't quite do that, Mrs. Oliver. This is official, you see. I'm in charge. I've got to investigate all lines. Besides it's all very well to say back your fancy. Two of us might want to back the same horse! Colonel Race hasn't said he suspects Major Despard. And Monsieur Poirot mayn't be putting his money on Mrs. Lorrimer."

  Mrs. Oliver sighed.

  "It was such a good plan," she sighed regretfully. "So neat." Then she cheered up a little. "But you don't mind me doing a little investigating on my own, do you?"

  "No," said Superintendent Battle slowly. "I can't say I object to that. In fact, it's out of my power to object. Having been at this party tonight, you're naturally free to do anything your own curiosity or interest suggests. But I'd just like to point out to you, Mrs. Oliver, that you'd better be a little careful."

  "Discretion itself," said Mrs. Oliver. "I shan't breathe a word of – of anything -" she ended a little lamely.

  "I do not think that was quite Superintendent Battle's meaning," said Hercule Poirot. "He meant that you will be dealing with a person who has already, to the best of our belief, killed twice – a person, therefore, who will not hesitate to kill a third time – if he considers it necessary."