CHAPTER 17. Dr Tanios

I must say that my first sight of Dr Tanios was rather a shock. I had been imbuing him in my mind with all sorts of sinister attributes. I had been picturing to myself a dark bearded foreigner with a swarthy aspect and a sinister cast of countenance.

Instead, I saw a rotund, jolly, brown-haired, brown-eyed man. And though it is true he had a beard, it was a modest brown affair that made him look more like an artist.

He spoke English perfectly. His voice had a pleasant timbre and matched the cheerful good-humour of his face.

‘Here we are,’ he said, smiling to his wife. ‘Edward has been passionately thrilled by his first ride in the tube. He has always been in buses until today.’

Edward was not unlike his father in appearance, but both he and his little sister had a definitely foreign- looking appearance and I understood what Miss Peabody had meant when she described them as rather yellow looking children.

The presence of her husband seemed to make Mrs Tanios nervous. Stammering a little she introduced Poirot to him. Me, she ignored.

Dr Tanios took up the name sharply.

‘Poirot? Monsieur Hercule Poirot? But I know that name well! And what brings you to us, M. Poirot?’

‘It is the affair of a lady lately deceased. Miss Emily Arundell,’ replied Poirot.

‘My wife’s aunt? Yes—what of her?’

Poirot said slowly:

‘Certain matters have arisen in connection with her death—’

Mrs Tanios broke in suddenly.

‘It’s about the will, Jacob. M. Poirot has been conferring with Theresa and Charles.’

Some of the tensity went out of Dr Tanios’ attitude. He dropped into a chair.

‘Ah, the will! An iniquitous will—but there, it is not my business, I suppose.’

Poirot sketched an account of his interview with the two Arundells (hardly a truthful one, I may say) and cautiously hinted at a fighting chance of upsetting the will.

‘You interest me, M. Poirot, very much. I may say I am of your opinion. Something could be done. I actually went as far as to consult a lawyer on the subject, but his advice was not encouraging. Therefore—’ he shrugged his shoulders.

‘Lawyers, as I have told your wife, are cautious people. They do not like taking chances. But me, I am different! And you?’

Dr Tanios laughed—a rich rollicking laugh.

‘Oh, I’d take a chance all right! Often have, haven’t I, Bella, old girl?’ He smiled across at her, and she smiled back at him—but in a rather mechanical manner, I thought.

He turned his attention back to Poirot.

‘I am not a lawyer,’ he said. ‘But in my opinion it is perfectly clear that that will was made when the old lady was not responsible for what she was doing. That Lawson woman is both clever and cunning.’

Mrs Tanios moved uneasily. Poirot looked at her quickly.

‘You do not agree, madame?’

She said rather weakly:

‘She has always been very kind. I shouldn’t call her clever.’

‘She’s been kind to you,’ said Dr Tanios, ‘because she had nothing to fear from you, my dear Bella. You’re easily taken in!’

He spoke good-humouredly, but his wife flushed.

‘With me it was different,’ he went on. ‘She didn’t like me. And she made no bones about showing it! I’ll give you an instance. The old lady had a fall down the stairs when we were staying there. I insisted on coming back the following weekend to see how she was. Miss Lawson did her utmost to prevent us. She didn’t succeed, but she was annoyed about it, I could see. The reason was clear. She wanted the old lady to herself.’’

Again Poirot turned to the wife.

‘You agree, madame?’

Her husband did not give her time to answer.

‘Bella’s too kind-hearted,’ he said. ‘You won’t get her to impute bad motives to anybody. But I’m quite sure I was right. I’ll tell you another thing, M. Poirot. The secret of her ascendency over old Miss Arundell was spiritualism! That’s how it was done, depend upon it!’

‘You think so?’

‘Sure of it, my dear fellow. I’ve seen a lot of that sort of thing. It gets hold of people. You’d be amazed! Especially anyone of Miss Arundell’s age. I’d be prepared to bet that that’s how the suggestion came. Some spirit— possibly her dead father—ordered her to alter her will and leave her money to the Lawson woman. She was in bad health—credulous—’

There was a very faint movement from Mrs Tanios. Poirot turned to her.

‘You think it possible—yes?’

‘Speak up, Bella,’ said Dr Tanios. ‘Tell us your views?’

He looked at her encouragingly. Her quick look back at him was an odd one. She hesitated, then said:

‘I know so little about these things. I dare say you’re right, Jacob.’

‘Depend upon it I’m right, eh, M. Poirot?’

Poirot nodded his head.

‘It may be—yes.’ Then he said, ‘You were down at Market Basing, I think, the weekend before Miss Arundell’s death?’

‘We were down at Easter and again the weekend after— that is right.’

‘No, no, I meant the weekend after that—on the 26th. You were there on the Sunday, I think?’

‘Oh, Jacob, were you?’ Mrs Tanios looked at him wide-eyed.

He turned quickly.

‘Yes, you remember? I just ran down in the afternoon. I told you about it.’

Both Poirot and I were looking at her. Nervously she pushed her hat a little farther back on her head.

‘Surely you remember, Bella,’ her husband continued. ‘What a terrible memory you’ve got.’

‘Of course!’ she apologized, a thin smile on her face. ‘It’s quite true, I have a shocking memory. And it’s nearly two months ago now.’

‘Miss Theresa Arundell and Mr Charles Arundell were there then, I believe?’ said Poirot.

‘They may have been,’ said Tanios easily. ‘I didn’t see them.’

‘You were not there very long then?’

‘Oh, no—just half an hour or so.’

Poirot’s inquiring gaze seemed to make him a little uneasy.

‘Might as well confess,’ he said with a twinkle. ‘I hoped to get a loan—but I didn’t get it. I’m afraid my wife’s aunt didn’t take to me as much as she might. Pity, because I liked her. She was a sporting old lady.’

‘May I ask you a frank question, Dr Tanios?’

Was there or was there not a momentary apprehension in Tanios’ eye?

‘Certainly, M. Poirot.’

‘What is your opinion of Charles and Theresa Arundell?’

The doctor looked slightly relieved.

‘Charles and Theresa?’ he looked at his wife with an affectionate smile. ‘Bella, my dear, I don’t suppose you mind my being frank about your family?’

She shook her head, smiling faintly.

‘Then it’s my opinion they’re rotten to the core, both of them! Funnily enough I like Charles the best. He’s a rogue but he’s a likeable rogue. He’s no moral sense but he can’t help that. People are born that way.’

‘And Theresa?’

He hesitated.

‘I don’t know. She’s an amazingly attractive young woman. But she’s quite ruthless, I should say. She’d murder anyone in cold blood if it suited her book. At least that’s my fancy. You may have heard, perhaps, that her mother was tried for murder?’

‘And acquitted,’ said Poirot.

‘As you say, and acquitted,’ said Tanios quickly. ‘But all the same, it makes one—wonder sometimes.’

‘You met the young man to whom she is engaged?’

‘Donaldson? Yes, he came to supper one night.’

‘What do you think of him?’

‘A clever fellow. I fancy he’ll go far—if he gets the chance. It takes money to specialize.’

‘You mean that he is clever in his profession.’

‘That is what I mean, yes. A first-class brain.’ He smiled. ‘Not quite a shining light in society yet. A little precise and prim in manner. He and Theresa make a comic pair. The attraction of opposites. She’s a social butterfly and he’s a recluse.’

The two children were bombarding their mother.

‘Mother, can’t we go in to lunch? I’m hungry. We’ll be late.’

Poirot looked at his watch and gave an exclamation.

‘A thousand pardons! I delay your lunch hour.’

Glancing at her husband Mrs Tanios said, uncertainly:

‘Perhaps we can offer you—’

Poirot said quickly:

‘You are most amiable, madame, but I have a luncheon engagement for which I am already late.’

He shook hands with both the Tanioses and with the children. I did the same.

We delayed for a minute or two in the hall. Poirot wanted to put through a telephone call. I waited for him by the hall porter’s desk. I was standing there when I saw Mrs Tanios come out into the hall and look searchingly around. She had a hunted, harried look. She saw me and came swiftly across to me.

‘Your friend—M. Poirot—I suppose he has gone?’

‘No, he is in the telephone box.’

‘Oh.’

‘You wanted to speak to him?’

She nodded. Her air of nervousness increased.

Poirot came out of the box at that moment and saw us standing together. He came quickly across to us.

‘M. Poirot,’ she began quickly in a low, hurried voice. ‘There is something that I would like to say—that I must tell you—’

‘Yes, madame.’

‘It is important—very important. You see—’

She stopped. Dr Tanios and the two children had just emerged from the writing-room. He came across and joined us.

‘Having a few last words with M. Poirot, Bella?’

His tone was good-humoured, the smile on his face pleasantness itself.

‘Yes—’ She hesitated, then said, “Well, that is really all, M. Poirot. I just wanted you to tell Theresa that we will back her up in anything she decides to do. I quite see that the family must stand together.’

She nodded brightly to us, then taking her husband’s arm she moved off in the direction of the dining-room.

I caught Poirot by the shoulder.

‘That wasn’t what she started to say, Poirot!’

He shook his head slowly, watching the retreating couple.

‘She changed her mind,’ I went on.

‘Yes, mon ami, she changed her mind.’

‘Why?’

‘I wish I knew,’ he murmured.

‘She will tell us some other time,’ I said hopefully.

‘I wonder. I rather fear—she may not…’