IV

Pilar marched into the drawing-room, her head held high. She went straight up to Lydia, who was sitting in the window with some knitting.

Pilar said: ‘Lydia, I have come to tell you that I will not take that money. I am going away – at once…’

Lydia looked astonished. She laid down her knitting. She said: ‘My dear child, Alfred must have explained very badly! It is not in the least a matter of charity, if that is what you feel. Really, it is not a question of kindness or generosity on our part. It is a plain matter of right and wrong. In the ordinary course of events your mother would have inherited this money, and you would have come into it from her. It is your right – your blood right. It is a matter, not of charity, but of justice!’

Pilar said fiercely: ‘And that is why I cannot do it – not when you speak like that – not when you are like that! I enjoyed coming here. It was fun! It was an adventure, but now you have spoilt it all! I am going away now, at once – you will never be bothered by me again…’

Tears choked her voice. She turned and ran blindly out of the room.

Lydia stared. She said helplessly: ‘I’d no idea she would take it like that!’

Hilda said: ‘The child seems quite upset.’

George cleared his throat and said portentously: ‘Er – as I pointed out this morning – the principle involved is wrong. Pilar has the wit to see that for herself. She refuses to accept charity – ’

Lydia said sharply: ‘It is not charity. It is her right!’

George said: ‘She does not seem to think so!’

Superintendent Sugden and Hercule Poirot came in. The former looked round and asked: ‘Where’s Mr Farr? I want a word with him.’

Before anyone had time to answer, Hercule Poirot said sharply: ‘Where is the señorita Estravados?’

George Lee said with a trace of malicious satisfaction: ‘Going to clear out, so she says. Apparently she has had enough of her English relations.’

Poirot wheeled round. He said to Sugden: ‘Come!’

As the two men emerged into the hall, there was the sound of a heavy crash and a far-away shriek.

Poirot cried: ‘Quick… Come…’

They raced along the hall and up the far staircase. The door of Pilar’s room was open and a man stood in the doorway. He turned his head as they ran up. It was Stephen Farr.

He said: ‘She’s alive…’

Pilar stood crouched against the wall of her room. She was staring at the floor where a big stone cannon ball was lying.

She said breathlessly: ‘It was on top of my door, balanced there. It would have crashed down on my head when I came in, but my skirt caught on a nail and jerked me back just as I was coming in.’

Poirot knelt down and examined the nail. On it was a thread of purple tweed. He looked up and nodded gravely. ‘That nail, mademoiselle,’ he said, ‘saved your life.’

The superintendent said, bewildered: ‘Look here, what’s the meaning of all this?’

Pilar said: ‘Someone tried to kill me!’ She nodded her head several times.

Superintendent Sugden glanced up at the door. ‘Booby trap,’ he said. ‘An old-fashioned booby trap – and its purpose was murder! That’s the second murder planned in this house. But this time it didn’t come off!’

Stephen Farr said huskily: ‘Thank God you’re safe.’

Pilar flung out her hands in a wide, appealing gesture.‘Madre de Dios,’ she cried. ‘Why should anyone wish to kill me? What have I done?’

Hercule Poirot said slowly: ‘You should rather ask, mademoiselle, what do I know?’

She stared. ‘Know? I do not know anything.’

Hercule Poirot said: ‘That is where you are wrong. Tell me, Mademoiselle Pilar, where were you at the time of the murder? You were not in this room.’

‘I was. I have told you so!’

Superintendent Sugden said with deceptive mildness: ‘Yes, but you weren’t speaking the truth when you said that, you know. You told us you heard your grandfather scream – you couldn’t have heard that if you were in here – Mr Poirot and I tested that yesterday.’

‘Oh!’ Pilar caught her breath.

Poirot said: ‘You were somewhere very much nearer his room. I will tell you where I think you were, mademoiselle. You were in the recess with the statues quite close to your grandfather’s door.’

Pilar said, startled: ‘Oh… How did you know?’

Poirot said with a faint smile: ‘Mr Farr saw you there.’

Stephen said sharply: ‘I did not. That’s an absolute lie!’

Poirot said: ‘I ask your pardon, Mr Farr, but you did see her. Remember your impression that there were three statues in that recess, not two. Only one person wore a white dress that night, Mademoiselle Estravados. She was the third white figure you saw. That is so, is it not, mademoiselle?’

Pilar said, after a moment’s hesitation: ‘Yes, it is true.’

Poirot said gently: ‘Now tell us, mademoiselle, the whole truth. Why were you there?’

Pilar said: ‘I left the drawing-room after dinner and I thought I would go and see my grandfather. I thought he would be pleased. But when I turned into the passage I saw someone else was there at his door. I did not want to be seen because I knew my grandfather had said he did not want to see anyone that night. I slipped into the recess in case the person at the door turned round.

‘Then, all at once, I heard the most horrible sounds, tables – chairs’ – she waved her hands – ‘everything falling and crashing. I did not move. I do not know why. I was frightened. And then there was a terrible scream’ – she crossed herself – ‘and my heart it stopped beating, and I said, “Someone is dead…” ’

‘And then?’

‘And then people began coming running along the passage and I came out at the end and joined them.’

Superintendent Sugden said sharply: ‘You said nothing of all this when we first questioned you. Why not?’

Pilar shook her head. She said, with an air of wisdom:‘It is not good to tell too much to the police. I thought, you see, that if I said I was near there you might think that I had killed him. So I said I was in my room.’

Sugden said sharply: ‘If you tell deliberate lies all that it ends in is that you’re bound to come under suspicion.’

Stephen Farr said: ‘Pilar?’

‘Yes?’

‘Who did you see standing at the door when you turned into the passage? Tell us.’

Sugden said: ‘Yes, tell us.’

For a moment the girl hesitated. Her eyes opened, then narrowed. She said slowly: ‘I don’t know who it was. It was too dimly lit to see. But it was a woman… ’

V

Superintendent Sugden looked round at the circle of faces. He said, with something as near irritation as he had yet shown: ‘This is very irregular, Mr Poirot.’

Poirot said: ‘It is a little idea of mine. I wish to share with everyone the knowledge that I have acquired. I shall then invite their co-operation, and so we shall get at the truth.’

Sugden murmured under his breath: ‘Monkey tricks.’ He leaned back in his chair.

Poirot said:

‘To begin with, you have, I think, an explanation to ask of Mr Farr.’

Sugden’s mouth tightened. ‘I should have chosen a less public moment,’ he said. ‘However, I’ve no objection.’ He handed the cable to Stephen Farr. ‘Now, Mr Farr, as you call yourself, perhaps you can explain this?’

Stephen Farr took it. Raising his eyebrows, he read it slowly out loud. Then, with a bow, he handed it back to the superintendent.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It’s pretty damning, isn’t it?’

Sugden said: ‘Is that all you’ve got to say about it? You quite understand there is no obligation on you to make a statement – ’

Stephen Farr interrupted. He said: ‘You needn’t caution me, Superintendent. I can see it trembling on your tongue! Yes, I’ll give you an explanation. It’s not a very good one, but it’s the truth.’

He paused. Then he began: ‘I’m not Ebenezer Farr’s son. But I knew both father and son quite well. Now try and put yourself in my place. (My name is Stephen Grant, by the way.) I arrived in this country for the first time in my life. I was disappointed. Everything and everybody seemed drab and lifeless. Then I was travelling by train and I saw a girl. I’ve got to say it straight out: I fell for that girl! She was the loveliest and most unlikely creature in the world! I talked to her for a while in the train and I made up my mind then and there not to lose sight of her. As I was leaving the compartment I caught sight of the label on her suitcase. Her name meant nothing to me, but the address to which she was travelling did. I’d heard of Gorston Hall, and I knew all about its owner. He was Ebenezer Farr’s one-time partner and old Eb often talked about him and said what a personality he was.

‘Well, the idea came to me to go to Gorston Hall and pretend I was Eb’s son. He had died, as this cable says, two years ago, but I remembered old Eb saying that he had not heard from Simeon Lee now for many years, and I judged that Lee would not know of the death of Eb’s son. Anyway, I felt it was worth trying.’

Sugden said: ‘You didn’t try it on at once, though. You stayed in the King’s Arms at Addlesfield for two days.’

Stephen said: ‘I was thinking it over – whether to try it or not. At last I made up my mind I would. It appealed to me as a bit of an adventure. Well, it worked like a charm! The old man greeted me in the friendliest manner and at once asked me to come and stay in the house. I accepted. There you are, Superintendent, there’s my explanation. If you don’t fancy it, cast your mind back to your courting days and see if you don’t remember some bit of foolishness you indulged in then. As for my real name, as I say, it’s Stephen Grant. You can cable to South Africa and check up on me, but I’ll tell you this: you’ll find I’m a perfectly respectable citizen. I’m not a crook or a jewel thief.’

Poirot said softly: ‘I never believed you were.’

Superintendent Sugden stroked his jaw cautiously. He said: ‘I’ll have to check up on that story. What I’d like to know is this: Why didn’t you come clean after the murder instead of telling us a pack of lies?’

Stephen said disarmingly: ‘Because I was a fool! I thought I could get away with it! I thought it would look fishy if I admitted to being here under a false name. If I hadn’t been a complete idiot I would have realized you were bound to cable to Jo’burg.’

Sugden said: ‘Well, Mr Farr – er – Grant – I’m not saying I disbelieve your story. It will be proved or disproved soon enough.’

He looked across inquiringly at Poirot. The latter said: ‘I think Miss Estravados has something to say.’

Pilar had gone very white. She said, in a breathless voice: ‘It is true. I would never have told you, but for Lydia and the money. To come here and pretend and cheat and act – that was fun, but when Lydia said the money was mine and that it was only justice, that was different; it was not fun any longer.’

Alfred Lee said with a puzzled face: ‘I do not understand, my dear, what you are talking about.’

Pilar said: ‘You think I am your niece, Pilar Estravados? But that is not so! Pilar was killed when I was travelling with her in a car in Spain. A bomb came and it hit the car and she was killed, but I was not touched. I did not know her very well, but she had told me all about herself and how her grandfather had sent for her to go to England and that he was very rich. And I had no money at all and I did not know where to go or what to do. And I thought suddenly: “Why should not I take Pilar’s passport and go to England and become very rich?” ’ Her face lit up with its sudden wide smile. ‘Oh, it was fun wondering if I could get away with it! Our faces on the photograph were not unlike. But when they wanted my passport here I opened the window and threw it out and ran down to get it, and then I rubbed some earth just over the face a little because at a barrier travelling they do not look very closely, but here they might – ’

Alfred Lee said angrily: ‘Do you mean to say that you represented yourself to my father as his granddaughter, and played on his affection for you?’

Pilar nodded. She said complacently: ‘Yes, I saw at once I could make him like me very much.’

George Lee broke out: ‘Preposterous!’ he spluttered. ‘Criminal! Attempting to get money by false pretences.’

Harry Lee said: ‘She didn’t get any from you, old boy! Pilar, I’m on your side! I’ve got a profound admiration for your daring. And, thank goodness, I’m not your uncle any more! That gives me a much freer hand.’

Pilar said to Poirot: ‘You knew? When did you know?’

Poirot smiled: ‘Mademoiselle, if you have studied the laws of Mendel you would know that two blue-eyed people are not likely to have a brown-eyed child. Your mother was, I was sure, a most chaste and respectable lady. It followed, then, that you were not Pilar Estravados at all. When you did your trick with the passport, I was quite sure of it. It was ingenious, but not, you understand, quite ingenious enough.’

Superintendent Sugden said unpleasantly: ‘The whole thing’s not quite ingenious enough.’

Pilar stared at him. She said: ‘I don’t understand…’

Sugden said: ‘You’ve told us a story – but I think there’s a good deal more you haven’t told.’

Stephen said: ‘You leave her alone!’

Superintendent Sugden took no notice. He went on: ‘You’ve told us that you went up to your grandfather’s room after dinner. You said it was an impulse on your part. I’m going to suggest something else. It was you who stole those diamonds. You’d handled them. On occasion, perhaps, you’d put them away in the safe and the old man hadn’t watched you do it! When he found the stones were missing, he saw at once that only two people could have taken them. One was Horbury, who might have got to know the combination and have crept in and stolen them during the night. The other person was you.

‘Well, Mr Lee at once took measures. He rang me up and had me come to see him. Then he sent word to you to come and see him immediately after dinner. You did so and he accused you of the theft. You denied it; he pressed the charge. I don’t know what happened next – perhaps he tumbled to the fact that you weren’t his granddaughter, but a very clever little professional thief. Anyway, the game was up, exposure loomed over you, and you slashed at him with a knife. There was a struggle and he screamed. You were properly up against it then. You hurried out of the room, turned the key from the outside and then, knowing you could not get away, before the others came, you slipped into the recess by the statues.’

Pilar cried shrilly: ‘It is not true! It is not true! I did not steal the diamonds! I did not kill him. I swear it by the Blessed Virgin.’

Sugden said sharply: ‘Then who did? You say you saw a figure standing outside Mr Lee’s door. According to your story, that person must have been the murderer. No one else passed the recess! But we’ve only your word for it that there was a figure there at all. In other words, you made that up to exculpate yourself!’

George Lee said sharply: ‘Of course she’s guilty! It’s all clear enough! I always said an outsider killed my father! Preposterous nonsense to pretend one of his family would do a thing like that! It – it wouldn’t be natural!’

Poirot stirred in his seat. He said: ‘I disagree with you. Taking into consideration the character of Simeon Lee, it would be a very natural thing to happen.’

‘Eh?’ George’s jaw dropped. He stared at Poirot.

Poirot went on: ‘And, in my opinion, that very thing did happen. Simeon Lee was killed by his own flesh and blood, for what seemed to the murderer a very good and sufficient reason.’

George cried: ‘One of us? I deny – ’

Poirot’s voice broke in hard as steel. ‘There is a case against every person here. We will, Mr George Lee, begin with the case against you. You had no love for your father! You kept on good terms with him for the sake of money. On the day of his death he threatened to cut down your allowance. You knew that on his death you would probably inherit a very substantial sum. There is the motive. After dinner you went, as you say, to telephone. You did telephone – but the call lasted only five minutes. After that you could easily have gone to your father’s room, chatted with him, and then attacked him and killed him. You left the room and turned the key from outside, for you hoped the affair would be put down to a burglar. You omitted, in your panic, to make sure that the window was fully open so as to support the burglar theory. That was stupid; but you are, if you will pardon my saying so, rather a stupid man!

‘However,’ said Poirot, after a brief pause during which George tried to speak and failed, ‘many stupid men have been criminals!’

He turned his eyes on Magdalene. ‘Madame, too, she also had a motive. She is, I think, in debt, and the tone of certain of your father’s remarks may have caused her uneasiness. She, too, has no alibi. She went to telephone, but she did not telephone, and we have only her word for what she did do…

‘Then,’ he paused, ‘there is Mr David Lee. We have heard, not once but many times, of the revengeful tempers and long memories that went with the Lee blood. Mr David Lee did not forget or forgive the way his father had treated his mother. A final jibe directed at the dead lady may have been the last straw. David Lee is said to have been playing the piano at the time of the murder. By a coincidence he was playing the Dead March. But suppose somebody else was playing that Dead March, somebody who knew what he was going to do, and who approved his action?’

Hilda Lee said quietly: ‘That is an infamous suggestion.’

Poirot turned to her. ‘I will offer you another, madame. It was your hand that did the deed. It was you who crept upstairs to execute judgment on a man you considered beyond human forgiveness.

You are of those, madame, who can be terrible in anger…’

Hilda said: ‘I did not kill him.’

Superintendent Sugden said brusquely: ‘Mr Poi-rot’s quite right. There is a possible case against everyone except Mr Alfred Lee, Mr Harry Lee, and Mrs Alfred Lee.’

Poirot said gently: ‘I should not even except those three…’

The superintendent protested: ‘Oh, come now, Mr Poirot!’

Lydia Lee said: ‘And what is the case against me, M. Poirot?’

She smiled a little as she spoke, her brows raised ironically.

Poirot bowed. He said: ‘Your motive, madame, I pass over. It is sufficiently obvious. As to the rest, you were wearing last night a flowered taffeta dress of a very distinctive pattern with a cape. I will remind you of the fact that Tressilian, the butler, is shortsighted. Objects at a distance are dim and vague to him. I will also point out that your drawing-room is big and lighted by heavily shaded lamps. On that night, a minute or two before the cries were heard, Tressilian came into the drawing-room to take away the coffee-cups. He saw you, as he thought, in a familiar attitude by the far window half-concealed by the heavy curtains.’

Lydia Lee said: ‘He did see me.’

Poirot went on: ‘I suggest that it is possible that what Tressilian saw was the cape of your dress, arranged to show by the window curtain, as though you yourself were standing there.’

Lydia said: ‘I was standing there…’

Alfred said: ‘How dare you suggest – ?’

Harry interrupted him. ‘Let him go on, Alfred. It’s our turn next. How do you suggest that dear Alfred killed his beloved father since we were both together in the dining-room at the time?’

Poirot beamed at him. ‘That,’ he said, ‘is very simple. An alibi gains in force accordingly as it is unwillingly given. You and your brother are on bad terms. It is well known. You jibe at him in public. He has not a good word to say for you! But, supposing that were all part of a very clever plot. Supposing that Alfred Lee is tired of dancing attendance upon an exacting taskmaster. Supposing that you and he have got together some time ago. Your plan is laid. You come home. Alfred appears to resent your presence. He shows jealousy and dislike of you. You show contempt for him. And then comes the night of the murder you have so cleverly planned together. One of you remains in the dining-room, talking and perhaps quar relling aloud as though two people were there.The other goes upstairs and commits the crime …’

Alfred sprang to his feet. ‘You devil!’ he said. His voice was inarticulate.

Sugden was staring at Poirot. He said: ‘Do you really mean – ?’

Poirot said, with a sudden ring of authority in his voice: ‘I have had to show you the possibilities! These are the things that might have happened! Which of them actually did happen we can only tell by passing from the outside appearance to the inside reality…’

He paused and then said slowly: ‘We must come back, as I said before, to the character of Simeon Lee himself…’