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London without the faintest idea there was anything wrong."
Poirot's face was non-committal. He said:
"Why does your husband accuse himself of the crime ?"
"Because he's "a word trembled on Susan's tongue and was rejected. Poirot seized on it.
"You were going to say ' because he is batty' speaking in
jest--but the jest was too near the truth, was it not ?"
"Greg's all right. He is. He is."
"I know something of his history," said Poirot. "He was for some months in Forsd.y.k.e House Mental Home before you met him."
"He was never certified. He was a voluntary patient."
"That is true. He is not, I agree, to be cla.s.sed as insane.
But he is, very definitely, unbalanced. He has a punishment
complex has had it, I suspect, since infancy."
Susan spoke quickly and eagerly:
"You don't understand, M. Poirot. Greg has never had a chance. That's why I wanted Uncle Richard's money so badly.
Uncle Richard was so matter-of-fact. He couldn't understand.
I knew Greg had got to set up for himself. He had got to feel he was someone--not just a chemist's a.s.sistant, being pushed around. Everything will be different now. He will have his own laboratory. He can work out his own formulas."
"Yes, yes--you will give him the earth--because you love him. Love him too much for safety or for happiness. But you cannot give to people what they are incapable of receiving.
At the end of it all, he will still be something that he does not want to be .... "
"What's that ?"
"Susan's husbal."
"How cruel you ar I And what nonsense
"Where Gregory Banks is concerned ou az , Y unscrupmous.
You wanted your uncle s money--not for y your husband. How butly did you want it ? , urselr--t)ut xor Angrily, Susan turned and dashed away.
5
'I thought," said Michael Shane lightly, ,, that I'd just come along and say goodbye."
He smiled, and his smile had a singularly, intoxicating quality.
Poirot was aware of the man's vital charm He studied Michael Shane for some momh ....
nts m silence He felt as thouh he knew this man least well %f all the hous
party, for Michael Shane only showed the side ........
he wanted to show.m mmsen mat
"Your wife," said Poirot conversationally,, unusual woman."
very Michael raised his eyebrows
Do you thnk so.
She s a lovely, I agreh.
so I've found, conspicuous for brains " But not, or "She will never try to be too clever," Poirot .....
she knows what she wants He sghed So ....
Ah. Mchael s smile broke out agam. ,, e. ,. ., the malachite table ?"
minting "Perhaps." Poirot paused and added: "A nd of what was
"The wax flowers, you mean ?"
"The wax flowers."
Michael frowned.
,,d t always qmte understand you, M, ever, the smile was switched on again, "I'm Poirot. How- , more thankful than I can say that we re all out of the wood. It, s un-leasant
to say the least of it, to go around with the P. ..
, , suspicion somehow or omer one oI us muraerea poor from u , . , . ,, ,, qcle lXlcaara.
That is how he seemed to you when yo Poirot inquired.
"Poor old Uncle Richard ? met nun t "Of course he was very well preserved and 11 that "And in full possession of his faculties "Oh yes."
"And, in fact, quite shrewd ?
"I dare say."
"A shrewd judge of character."
The smile remained unaltered.
"You can't expect me to agree with that, M. Poirot. He didn't approve of ms."
"He thought you, perhaps, the unfaithful type ?" Poirot suggested.
Michael laughed.
"What an old-fas.h.i.+oned idea I"
"But it is true, isn't it ?"
"Now I wonder what you mean by that ?"
Poirot placed the tips of his fingers together.
"There have been inquiries made, you know," he murmured. "By you ?"
"Not only by me."
Michael Shane gave him a quick searching glance. His reactions, Poirot noted, were quick. Michael Shane was no fool.
"You mean--the police are interested ?"
"They have never been quite satisfied, you know, to regard the murder of Cora Lansquenet as a casual crime." "And they've been making inquiries about me ?"
Poirot said primly: "They are interested in the movements of Mrs. Lansquenet's relations on the day that she was killed." "That's extremely awkward." Michael spoke with a charming confidential rueful air.
"Is it, Mr. Shane ?"
"More so than you can imagine I I told Rosamund, you see, that I was lunching with a certain Oscar Lewis on that day."
"When, in actual fact, you were not ?"
"No. Actually I motored down to see a woman called Sorrel Dainton--quite a well-known actress. I was with her in her last show. Rather awkward, you see for though it's quite satisfactory as far as the police are concerned, it won't go down very well with Rosamund."
"Ah I" Poirot looked discreet. "There has been a little trouble over this friends.h.i.+p of yours ?"
"Yes... In fact--Rosamund made me promise I wouldn't see her any more."
"Yes, I can see that may be awkward... Entre nos, you had an affair with the lady ?"
"Oh, just one of those things I It's not as though I cared
for the woman at all."