iii

mrs. merton of no. 82, king leopold mansions had been designated by the porter as mrs.

chapman’s closest friend in the mansions.

it was, therefore, to no. 82 that japp and poirot betook themselves next.

mrs. merton was a loquacious lady, with snapping black eyes, and an elaborate coiffure.

it needed no pressure to make her talk. she was only too ready to rise to a dramatic situation.

“sylvia chapman—well, of course, i don’t know her really well—not intimately, so to speak.

we had a few bridge evenings occasionally and we went to the pictures together, and of course

shopping sometimes. but oh, do tell me—she isn’t dead, is she?”

japp reassured her.

“well, i’m sure i’m thankful to hear it! but the postman just now was all agog about a body

having been found in one of the flats—but then one really can’t believe half one hears, can one? i

never do.”

japp asked a further question.

“no, i haven’t heard anything of mrs. chapman—not since we had spoken about going to see

the new ginger rogers and fred astaire the following week, and she said nothing about going

away then.”

mrs. merton had never heard a miss sainsbury seale mentioned. mrs. chapman had never

spoken of anyone of that name.

“and yet, you know, the name is familiar to me, distinctly familiar. i seem to have seen it

somewhere quite lately.”

japp said drily:

“it’s been in all the papers for some weeks—”

“of course—some missing person, wasn’t it? and you thought mrs. chapman might have

known her? no, i’m sure i’ve never heard sylvia mention that name.”

“can you tell me anything about mr. chapman, mrs. merton?”

a rather curious expression came over mrs. merton’s face. she said:

“he was a commercial traveller, i believe, so mrs. chapman told me. he travelled abroad for

his firm—armaments, i believe. he went all over europe.”

“did you ever meet him?”

“no, never. he was at home so seldom, and when he was at home he and mrs. chapman didn’t

want to bother with outsiders. very naturally.”

“do you know if mrs. chapman had any near relations or friends?”

“i don’t know about friends. i don’t think she had any near relations. she never spoke of any.”

“was she ever in india?”

“not that i know of.”

mrs. merton paused, and then broke out:

“but please tell me—why are you asking all these questions? i quite understand that you come

from scotland yard and all that, but there must be some special reason?”

“well, mrs. merton, you are bound to know some time. as a matter of fact, a dead body has

been found in mrs. chapman’s flat.”

“oh—?” mrs. merton looked for a moment like the dog whose eyes were as big as saucers.

“a dead body! it wasn’t mr. chapman, was it? or perhaps some foreigner?”

japp said:

“it wasn’t a man at all—it was a woman.”

“a woman.” mrs. merton seemed even more surprised.

poirot said gently:

“why should you think it was a man?”

“oh, i don’t know. it seemed more likely somehow.”

“but why? was it because mrs. chapman was in the habit of receiving gentleman visitors?”

“oh no—oh no indeed.” mrs. merton was indignant. “i never meant anything of that kind.

sylvia chapman wasn’t in the least that kind of woman—not at all! it was just that, with mr.

chapman—i mean—”

she came to a stop.

poirot said:

“i think, madame, that you know a little more than you have told us.”

mrs. merton said uncertainly:

“i don’t know, i’m sure — what i ought to do! i mean, i don’t exactly want to betray a

confidence and of course i never have repeated what sylvia told me—except just to one or two

intimates whom i knew were really safe—”

mrs. merton leaned forward and lowered her voice:

“it just—slipped out, as it were, one day. when we were seeing a film—about the secret

service and mrs. chapman said you could see that whoever had written it didn’t know much about

their subject, and then it came out—only she swore me to secrecy. mr. chapman was in the secret

service, i mean. that was the real reason he had to go abroad so much. the armament firm was

only a blind. and it was terribly worrying for mrs. chapman because she couldn’t write to him or

get letters from him while he was away. and, of course, it was terribly dangerous!”