elimination of three murderers?
on arrival in london, superintendent battle came straight to poirot. anne and rhoda had then been gone an hour or more.
without more ado, the superintendent recounted the result of his researches in devonshire.
"we're on to it--not a doubt of it," he finished. "that's what shaitana was aiming at--with his 'domestic accident' business. but what gets me is the motive. why did she want to kill the woman?"
"i think i can help you there, my friend."
"go ahead, m. poirot."
"this afternoon i conducted a little experiment. i induced mademoiselle and her friend to come here. i put to them my usual questions as to what there was in the room that night."
battle looked at him curiously.
"you're very keen on that question."
"yes, it's useful. it tells me a good deal. mademoiselle meredith was suspicious--very suspicious. she takes nothing for granted, that young lady. so that good dog, hercule poirot, he does one of his best tricks. he lays a clumsy amateurish trap. mademoiselle mentions a case of jewellery. i say was not that at the opposite end of the room from the table with the dagger. mademoiselle does not fall into the trap. she avoids it cleverly. and after that she is pleased with herself, and her vigilance relaxes. so that is the object of this visit--to get her to admit that she knew where the dagger was, and that she noticed it! her spirits rise when she has, as she thinks, defeated me. she talked quite freely about the jewellery. she has noticed many details of it. there is nothing else in the room that she remembers--except that a vase of chrysanthemums needed its water changing."
"well?" said battle.
"well, it is significant, that. suppose we knew nothing about this girl. her words would give us a clue to her character. she notices flowers. she is, then, fond of flowers? no, since she does not mention a very big bowl of early tulips which would at once have attracted the attention of a flower lover. no, it is the paid companion who speaks--the girl whose duty it has been to put fresh water in the vases--and, allied to that, there is a girl who loves and notices jewellery. is not that, at least, suggestive?"
"ah," said battle. "i'm beginning to see what you're driving at."
"precisely. as i told you the other day, i place my cards on the table. when you recounted her history the other day, and mrs. oliver made her startling announcement, my mind went at once to an important point. the murder could not have been committed for gain, since miss meredith had still to earn her living after it happened. why, then? i considered miss meredith's temperament as it appeared superficially. a rather timid young girl, poor, but well-dressed, fond of pretty things .... the temperament, is it not, of a thief, rather than a murderer. and i asked immediately if mrs. eldon had been a tidy woman. you replied that no, she had not been tidy. i formed a hypothesis. supposing that anne meredith was a girl with a weak streak in her character--the kind of girl who takes little things from the big shops. supposing that, poor, and yet loving pretty things, she helped herself once or twice to things from her employer. a brooch, perhaps, an odd half-crown or two, a string of beads. mrs. eldon, careless, untidy, would put down these disappearances to her own carelessness. she would not suspect her gentle little mother's-help. but, now, suppose a different type of employer--an employer who did noticeaccused anne meredith of theft. that would be a possible motive for murder. as i said the other evening, miss meredith would only commit a murder through fear. she knows that her employer will be able to prove the theft. there is only one thing that can save her: her employer must die. and so she changes the bottles, and mrs. benson dies--ironically enough convinced that the mistake is her own, and not suspecting for a minute that the cowed, frightened girl has had a hand in it."
"it's possible," said superintendent battle. "it's only a hypothesis, but it's possible."
"it is a little more than possible, my friend it is also probable. for this afternoon i laid a little trap nicely baited--the real trap--after the sham one had been circumvented. if what i suspect is true, anne meredith will never, never be able to resist a really expensive pair of stockings! i ask her to aid me. i let her know carefully that i am not sure exactly how many stockings there are, i go out of the room, leaving her alone---and the result, my friend, is that i have now seventeen pairs of stockings, instead of nineteen, and that two pairs have gone away in anne meredith's handbag."
"whew!" superintendent battle whistled. "what a risk to take, though."
"pas du tout. what does she think i suspect her of? murder. what is the risk, then, in stealing a pair, or two pairs, of silk stockings? i am not looking for a thief. and, besides, the thief, or the kleptomaniac, is always the same convinced that she can get away with it."
battle nodded his head.
"that's true enough. incredibly stupid. the pitcher goes to the well time after time. well, i think between us we've arrived fairly clearly at the truth. anne meredith was caught stealing. anne meredith changed a bottle from one shelf to another. we know that was murder but i'm damned if we could ever prove it. successful crime no. 2. roberts gets away with it. anne meredith gets away with it. but what about shaitana? did anne meredith kill shaitana?"
he remained silent for a moment or two, then he shook his head.
"it doesn't work out right," he said reluctantly. "she's not one to take a risk. change a couple of bottles, yes. she knew no one could fasten that on her. it was absolutely safe---because any one might have done it! of course, it mightn't have worked. mrs. benson might have noticed before she drank the stuff, or she mightn't have died from it. it was what i call a hopeful kind of murder. it might work or it mightn't. actually, it did. but shaitana was a very different pair of shoes. that was deliberate, audacious, purposeful murder."
poirot nodded his head.
"i agree with you. the two types of crime are not the same."
battle rubbed his nose.
"so that seems to wipe her out as far as he's concerned. roberts and the girl, both crossed off our list. what about despard? any luck with the luxmore woman?"
poirot narrated his adventures of the preceding afternoon.
battle grinned.
"i know that type. you can't disentangle what they remember from what they invent."
poirot went on. he described despard's visit, and the story the latte had told.
"believe him?" battle asked abruptly.
"yes, i do."
battle sighed.
"so do i. not the type to shoot a man because he wanted the man's wife. anyway, what's wrong with the divorce court? every one flocks there. and he's not a professional man; it wouldn't ruin him, or anything like that. no, i'm of the opinion that our late lamented mr. shaitana struck a snag there. murderer no. 3 wasn't a murderer, after all." he looked at poirot. "that leaves--?"
"mrs. lorrimer," said poirot. the telephone rang. poirot got up and answered it. he spoke a few words, waited, spoke again. then he hung up the receiver and returned to battle. his face was very grave. "that was mrs. lorrimer speaking," he said. "she wants me to come round and see her--now." he and battle looked at each other. the latter shook his head slowly. "am i wrong?" he said. "or were you expecting something of the kind?" "i wondered," said hercule poirot. "that was all. i wondered." "you'd better get along," said battle. "perhaps you'll manage to get at the truth at last."
