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Chapter 25

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race found him still sitting there.

"well, poirot, what about it? pennington's due in ten minutes. i'm leaving this in your hands."

poirot rose quickly to his feet. "first, get hold of young fanthorp."

"fanthorp?" race looked surprised.

"yes. bring him to my cabin."

race nodded and went off. poirot went along to his cabin. race arrived with young fanthorp, a

minute or two afterward.

poirot indicated chairs and offered cigarettes.

"now, monsieur fanthorp," he said, "to our business! i perceive that you wear the same tie that my

friend hastings wears."

jim fanthorp looked down at his neckwear with some bewilderment.

"it's an o.e. tie," he said.

"exactly. you must understand that, though i am a foreigner, i know something of the english

point of view. i know, for instance, that there are 'things which are done' and 'things which are not

done.'"

jim fanthorp grinned.

"we don't say that sort of thing much nowadays, sir."

"perhaps not, but the custom, it still remains. the old school tie is the old school tie, and there

are certain things (i know this from experience) that the old school tie does not do! one of those

things, monsieur fanthorp, is to butt into a private conversation unasked when one does not know

the people who are conducting it."

fanthorp stared.

poirot went on: "but the other day, monsieur fanthorp, that is exactly what you did do. certain

persons were quietly transacting some private business in the observation saloon. you strolled near

them, obviously in order to overhear what it was that was in progress, and presently you actually

turned round and congratulated a lady - madame simon doyle - on the soundness of her business

methods."

jim fanthorp's face got very red. poirot swept on, not waiting for a comment.

"now that, monsieur fanthorp, was not at all the behaviour of one who wears a tie similar to that

worn by my friend hastings! hastings is all delicacy, would die of shame before he did such a

thing! therefore, taking that action of yours in conjunction with the fact that you are a very young

man to be able to afford an expensive holiday, that you are a member of a country solicitor's firm,

and therefore probably not extravagantly well off, and that you show no signs of recent illness such

as might necessitate a prolonged visit abroad, i ask myself - and am now asking you - what is the

reason for your presence on this boat?"

jim fanthorp jerked his head back.

"i decline to give you any information whatever, monsieur poirot. i really think you must be mad."

"i am not mad. i am very, very sane. where is your firm? in northampton; that is not very far from

wode hall. what conversation did you try to overhear? one concerning legal documents. what

was the object of your remark - a remark which you uttered with obvious embarrassment and

malaise? your object was to prevent madame doyle from signing any document unread."

he paused.

"on this boat we have had a murder, and following that murder two other murders in rapid

succession. if i further give you the information that the weapon which killed madame

otterbourne was a revolver owned by monsieur andrew pennington, then perhaps you will realize

that it is actually your duty to tell us all you can."

jim fanthorp was silent for some minutes. at last he said: "you have rather an odd way of going

about things, monsieur poirot, but i appreciate the points you have made. the trouble is that i have

no exact information to lay before you."

"you mean that it is a case, merely, of suspicion."

"yes."

"and therefore you think it injudicious to speak? that may be true, legally speaking. but this is not

a court of law. colonel race and myself are endeavouring to track down a murderer. anything that

can help us to do so may be valuable."

again jim fanthorp reflected. then he said: "very well. what is it you want to know?"

"why did you come on this trip?"

"my uncle, mr carmichael, mrs doyle's english solicitor, sent me. he handled a good many of her

affairs. in this way, he was often in correspondence with mr andrew pennington, who was mrs

doyle's american trustee. several small incidents (i cannot enumerate them all) made my uncle

suspicious that all was not quite as it should be."

"in plain language," said race, "your uncle suspected that pennington was a crook?"

jim fanthorp nodded, a faint smile on his face.

"you put it rather more bluntly than i should, but the main idea is correct. various excuses made

by pennington, certain plausible explanations of the disposal of funds, aroused my uncle's distrust.

"while these suspicions of his were still nebulous, miss ridgeway married unexpectedly and went

off on her honeymoon to egypt. her marriage relieved my uncle's mind, as he knew that on her

return to england the estate would have to be formally settled and handed over.

"however, in a letter she wrote him from cairo, she mentioned casually that she had unexpectedly

run across andrew pennington. my uncle's suspicions became acute. he felt sure that pennington,

perhaps by now in a desperate position, was going to try and obtain signatures from her which

would cover his own defalcations. since my uncle had no definite evidence to lay before her, he

was in a most difficult position. the only thing he could think of was to send me out here,

travelling by air, with instructions to discover what was in the wind. i was to keep my eyes open

and act summarily if necessary - a most unpleasant mission, i can assure you. as a matter of fact,

on the occasion you mention i had to behave more or less as a cad! it was awkward, but on the

whole i was satisfied with the result."

"you mean you put madame doyle on her guard?" asked race.

"not so much that, but i think i put the wind up pennington. i felt convinced he wouldn't try any

more funny business for some time, and then i hoped to have got intimate enough with mr and mrs

doyle to convey some kind of a warning. as a matter of fact i hoped to do so through doyle. mrs

doyle was so attached to mr pennington that it would have been a bit awkward to suggest things

to her about him. it would have been easier for me to approach the husband."

race nodded.

poirot asked: "will you give me a candid opinion on one point, monsieur fanthorp? if you were

engaged in putting a swindle over, would you choose madame doyle or monsieur doyle as a

victim?"

fanthorp smiled faintly.

"mr doyle, every time. linnet doyle was very shrewd in business matters. her husband, i should

fancy, is one of those trustful fellows who know nothing of business and are always ready to 'sign

on the dotted line' as he himself put it."

"i agree," said poirot. he looked at race. "and there's your motive."

jim fanthorp said: "but this is all pure conjecture. it isn't evidence."

poirot replied, easily, "ah, bah! we will get evidence!"

"how?"

"possibly from mr pennington himself."

fanthorp looked doubtful.

"i wonder. i very much wonder."

race glanced at his watch. "he's about due now."

jim fanthorp was quick to take the hint. he left them.

two minutes later andrew pennington made his appearance. his manner was all smiling urbanity.

only the taut line of his jaw and the wariness of his eyes betrayed the fact that a thoroughly

experienced fighter was on his guard.

"well, gentlemen," he said, "here i am."

he sat down and looked at them inquiringly.

"we asked you to come here, monsieur pennington," began poirot, "because it is fairly obvious

that you have a very special and immediate interest in the case."

pennington raised his eyebrows slightly.

"is that so?"

poirot said gently: "surely. you have known linnet ridgeway, i understand, since she was quite a

child."

"oh! that -" his face altered, became less alert. "i beg pardon, i didn't quite get you. yes, as i told

you this morning, i've known linnet since she was a cute little thing in pinafores."

"you were on terms of close intimacy with her father?"

"that's so. melhuish ridgeway and i were close - very close."

"you were so intimately associated that on his death he appointed you business guardian to his

daughter and trustee to the vast fortune she inherited."

"why, roughly, that is so." the wariness was back again. the note was more cautious. "i was not

the only trustee, naturally; others were associated with me."

"who have since died?"

"two of them are dead. the other, mr stemdale rockford, is alive."

"your partner?"

"yes."

"mademoiselle ridgeway, i understand, was not yet of age when she married?"

"she would have been twenty-one next july."

"and in the normal course of events she would have come into control of her fortune then?"

"yes.

"but her marriage precipitated matters?"

pennington's jaw hardened. he shot out his chin at them aggressively.

"you'll pardon me, gentlemen, but what exact business is all this of yours?"

"if you dislike answering the question -"

"there's no dislike about it. i don't mind what you ask me. but i don't see the relevance of all this."

"oh, but surely, monsieur pennington -" poirot leaned forward, his eyes green and catlike - " there

is the question of motive. in considering that, financial considerations must always be taken into

account."

pennington said sullenly, "by ridgeway's will, linnet got control of her dough when she was

twenty-one or when she married."

"no conditions of any kind?"

"no conditions."

"and it is a matter, i am credibly assured, of millions."

"millions it is."

poirot said softly, "your responsibility, mr pennington, and that of your partner, has been a very

grave one."

pennington replied curtly: "we're used to responsibility. doesn't worry us any."

"i wonder."

something in his tone flicked the other man on the raw. he asked angrily, "what the devil do you

mean?"

poirot replied with an air of engaging frankness: "i was wondering, mr pennington, whether

linnet ridgeway's sudden marriage caused any - consternation, in your office?"

"consternation?"

"that was the word i used."

"what the hell are you driving at?"

"something quite simple. are linnet doyle's affairs in the perfect order they should be?"

pennington rose to his feet.

"that's enough. i'm through." he made for the door.

"but you will answer my question first?"

pennington snapped, "they're in perfect order."

"you were not so alarmed when the news of linnet ridgeway's marriage reached you that you

rushed over to europe by the first boat and staged an apparently fortuitous meeting in egypt."

pennington came back toward them. he had himself under control once more.

"what you are saying is absolute balderdash! i didn't even know that linnet was married till i met

her in cairo. i was utterly astonished. her letter must have missed me by a day in new york. it

was forwarded and i got it about a week later."

"you came over by the carmanic, i think you said."

"that's right."

"and the letter reached new york after the carmanic sailed?"

"how many times have i got to repeat it?"

"it is strange," said poirot.

"what's strange?"

"that on your luggage there are no labels of the carmanic. the only recent labels of transatlantic

sailing are the normandie. the normandie, i remember, sailed two days after the carmanic."

for a moment the other was at a loss. his eyes wavered.

colonel race weighed in with telling effect.

"come now, mr pennington," he said. "we've several reasons for believing that you came over on

the normandie and not by the carmanic, as you said. in that case, you received mrs doyle's letter

before you left new york. it's no good denying it, for it's the easiest thing in the world to check up

the steamship companies."

andrew pennington felt absent-mindedly for a chair and sat down. his face was impassive - a

poker face. behind that mask his agile brain looked ahead to the next move.

"i'll have to hand it to you, gentlemen. you've been too smart for me. but i had my reasons for

acting as i did."

"no doubt." race's tone was curt.

"if i give them to you, it must be understood i do so in confidence."

"i think you can trust us to behave fittingly. naturally i cannot give assurances blindly."

"well -" pennington sighed. "i'll come clean. there was some monkey business going on in

england. it worried me. i couldn't do much about it by letter. the only thing was to come over and

see for myself."

"what do you mean by monkey business?"

"i'd good reason to believe that linnet was being swindled."

"by whom?"

"her british lawyer. now that's not the kind of accusation you can fling around anyhow. i made up

my mind to come over right away and see into matters myself."

"that does great credit to your vigilance, i am sure. but why the little deception about not having

received the letter?"

"well, i ask you -" pennington spread out his hands. "you can't butt in on a honeymoon couple

without more or less coming down to brass tacks and giving your reasons. i thought it best to make

the meeting accidental. besides, i didn't know anything about the husband. he might have been

mixed up in the racket for all i knew."

"in fact all your actions were actuated by pure disinterestedness," said colonel race drily.

"you've said it, colonel."

there was a pause. race glanced at poirot. the little man leant forward.

"monsieur pennington, we do not believe a word of your story -"

"the hell you don't! and what the hell do you believe?"

"we believe that linnet ridgeway's unexpected marriage put you in a financial quandary. that

you came over post haste to try and find some way out of the mess you were in - that is to say,

some way of gaining time. that, with that end in view, you endeavoured to obtain madame

doyle's signature to certain documents - and failed. that on the journey up the nile, when walking

along the cliff top at abu simbel, you dislodged a boulder which fell and only very narrowly

missed its object -"

"you're crazy."

"we believe that the same kind of circumstances occurred on the return journey. that is to say, an

opportunity presented itself of putting madame doyle out of the way at a moment when her death

would be almost certainly ascribed to the action of another person. we not only believe, but know,

that it was your revolver which killed a woman who was about to reveal to us the name of the

person who she had reason to believe killed both linnet doyle and the, maid louise -"

"hell!" the forcible ejaculation broke forth and interrupted poirot's stream of eloquence. "what

are you getting at? are you crazy? what motive had i to kill linnet? i wouldn't get her money; that

goes to her husband. why don't you pick on him? he's the one to benefit - not me."

race said coldly: "doyle never left the lounge on the night of the tragedy till he was shot at and

wounded in the leg. the impossibility of his walking a step after that is attested to by a doctor and

a nurse - both independent and reliable witnesses. simon doyle could not have killed his wife. he

could not have killed louise bourget. he most definitely did not kill mrs otterbourne! you know

that as well as we do."

"i know he didn't kill her." pennington sounded a little calmer. "all i say is, why pick on me when

i don't benefit by her death?"

"but, my dear sir," poirot's voice came soft as a purring cat, "that is rather a matter of opinion.

madame doyle was a keen woman of business, fully conversant of her own affairs and very quick

to spot any irregularity. as soon as she took up the control of her property, which she would have

done on her return to england, her suspicions were bound to be aroused. but now that she is dead

and that her husband, as you have just pointed out, inherits, the whole thing is different. simon

doyle knows nothing whatever of his wife's affairs except that she was a rich woman. he is of a

simple, trusting disposition. you will find it easy to place complicated statements before him, to

involve the real issue in a net of figures, and to delay settlement with pleas of legal formalities and

the recent depression. i think that it makes a very considerable difference to you whether you deal

with the husband or the wife."

pennington shrugged his shoulders.

"your ideas are - fantastic."

"time will show."

"what did you say?"

"i said, 'time will show!' this is a matter of three deaths - three murders. the law will demand the

most searching investigation into the condition of madame doyle's estate."

he saw the sudden sag in the other's shoulders and knew that he had won.

jim fanthorp's suspicions were well founded.

poirot went on: "you've played - and lost. useless to go on bluffing."

"you don't understand," pennington muttered. "it's all square enough really. it's been this damned

slump - wall street's been crazy. but i'd staged a comeback. with luck everything will be o.k. by

the middle of june."

with shaking hands he took a cigarette, tried to light it, failed. "i suppose," mused poirot, "that the

boulder was a sudden temptation. you thought nobody saw you."

"that was an accident. i swear it was an accident!" the man leant forward, his face working, his

eyes terrified. "i stumbled and fell against it. i swear it was an accident."

the two men said nothing.

pennington suddenly pulled himself together. he was still a wreck of a man, but his fighting spirit

had returned in a certain measure. he moved toward the door. "you can't pin that on me,

gentlemen. it was an accident. and it wasn't i who shot her. d'you hear? you can't pin that on me

either - and you never will." he went out.

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