Cards on the Table (SB) (Superintendent Battle 3)

“I’m quite a respectable person,” said Anne, smiling.

“She’s led a blameless life, too,” said Rhoda. “I can answer for that.”

“Well, that’s very nice,” said Superintendent Battle cheerfully. “You’ve known Miss Meredith a long time, then?”

“We were at school together,” said Rhoda. “What ages ago, it seems, doesn’t it, Anne?”

“So long ago, you can hardly remember it, I suppose,” said Battle with a chuckle. “Now, then, Miss Meredith, I’m afraid I’m going to be rather like those forms you fill up for passports.”

“I was born—” began Anne.

“Of poor but honest parents,” Rhoda put in.

Superintendent Battle held up a slightly reproving hand.

“Now, now, young lady,” he said.

“Rhoda, darling,” said Anne gravely. “It’s serious, this.”

“Sorry,” said Rhoda.

“Now, Miss Meredith, you were born—where?”

“At Quetta, in India.”

“Ah, yes. Your people were Army folk?”

“Yes—my father was Major John Meredith. My mother died when I was eleven. Father retired when I was fifteen and went to live in Cheltenham. He died when I was eighteen and left practically no money.”

Battle nodded his head sympathetically.

“Bit of a shock to you, I expect.”

“It was, rather. I always knew that we weren’t well off, but to find there was practically nothing—well, that’s different.”

“What did you do, Miss Meredith?”

“I had to take a job. I hadn’t been particularly well educated and I wasn’t clever. I didn’t know typing or shorthand, or anything. A friend in Cheltenham found me a job with friends of hers—two small boys home in the holidays, and general help in the house.”

“Name, please?”

“That was Mrs. Eldon, The Larches, Ventnor. I stayed there for two years, and then the Eldons went abroad. Then I went to a Mrs. Deering.”

“My aunt,” put in Rhoda.

“Yes, Rhoda got me the job. I was very happy. Rhoda used to come and stay sometimes, and we had great fun.”

“What were you there—companion?”

“Yes—it amounted to that.”

“More like undergardener,” said Rhoda.

She explained:

“My Aunt Emily is just mad on gardening. Anne spent most of her time weeding or putting in bulbs.”

“And you left Mrs. Deering?”

“Her health got worse, and she had to have a regular nurse.”

“She’s got cancer,” said Rhoda. “Poor darling, she has to have morphia and things like that.”

“She had been very kind to me. I was very sorry to go,” went on Anne.

“I was looking about for a cottage,” said Rhoda, “and wanting someone to share it with me. Daddy’s married again—not my sort at all. I asked Anne to come here with me, and she’s been here ever since.”

“Well, that certainly seems a most blameless life,” said Battle. “Let’s just get the dates clear. You were with Mrs. Eldon two years, you say. By the way, what is her address now?”

“She’s in Palestine. Her husband has some Government appointment out there—I’m not sure what.”

“Ah, well, I can soon find out. And after that you went to Mrs. Deering?”

“I was with her three years,” said Anne quickly. “Her address is Marsh Dene, Little Hembury, Devon.”

“I see,” said Battle. “So you are now twenty-five, Miss Meredith. Now, there’s just one thing more—the name and address of a couple of people in Cheltenham who knew you and your father.”

Anne supplied him with these.

“Now, about this trip to Switzerland—where you met Mr. Shaitana. Did you go alone there—or was Miss Dawes here with you?”

“We went out together. We joined some other people. There was a party of eight.”

“Tell me about your meeting with Mr. Shaitana.”

Anne crinkled her brows.

“There’s really nothing to tell. He was just there. We knew him in the way you know people in a hotel. He got first prize at the fancy dress ball. He went as Mephistopheles.”

Superintendent Battle sighed.

“Yes, that always was his favourite effect.”

“He really was marvellous,” said Rhoda. “He hardly had to make up at all.”

The superintendent looked from one girl to the other.

“Which of you two young ladies knew him best?”

Anne hesitated. It was Rhoda who answered.

“Both the same to begin with. Awfully little, that is. You see, our crowd was the skiing lot, and we were off doing runs most days and dancing together in the evenings. But then Shaitana seemed to take rather a fancy to Anne. You know, went out of his way to pay her compliments, and all that. We ragged her about it, rather.”

“I just think he did it to annoy me,” said Anne. “Because I didn’t like him. I think it amused him to make me feel embarrassed.”

Rhoda said laughing:

“We told Anne it would be a nice rich marriage for her. She got simply wild with us.”

“Perhaps,” said Battle, “you’d give me the names of the other people in your party?”

“You aren’t what I call a trustful man,” said Rhoda. “Do you think that every word we’re telling you is downright lies?”

Superintendent Battle twinkled.

“I’m going to make sure it isn’t, anyway,” he said.

“You are suspicious,” said Rhoda.

She scribbled some names on a piece of paper and gave it to him.

Battle rose.

“Well, thank you very much, Miss Meredith,” he said. “As Miss Dawes says, you seem to have led a particularly blameless life. I don’t think you need worry much. It’s odd the way Mr. Shaitana’s manner changed to you. You’ll excuse my asking, but he didn’t ask you to marry him—or—er—pester you with attentions of another kind?”

“He didn’t try to seduce her,” said Rhoda helpfully. “If that’s what you mean.”

Anne was blushing.

“Nothing of the kind,” she said. “He was always most polite and—and—formal. It was just his elaborate manners that made me uncomfortable.”

“And little things he said or hinted?”

“Yes—at least—no. He never hinted things.”

“Sorry. These lady-killers do sometimes. Well, goodnight, Miss Meredith. Thank you very much. Excellent coffee. Goodnight, Miss Dawes.”

“There,” said Rhoda as Anne came back into the room after shutting the door after Battle. “That’s over, and not so very terrible. He’s a nice fatherly man, and he evidently doesn’t suspect you in the least. It was all ever so much better than I expected.”

Anne sank down with a sigh.

“It was really quite easy,” she said. “It was silly of me to work myself up so. I thought he’d try to browbeat me—like K.C.s on the stage.”

“He looks sensible,” said Rhoda. “He’d know well enough you’re not a murdering kind of female.”

She hesitated and then said:

“I say, Anne, you didn’t mention being at Croftways. Did you forget?”

Anne said slowly:

“I didn’t think it counted. I was only there a few months. And there’s no one to ask about me there. I can write and tell him if you think it matters; but I’m sure it doesn’t. Let’s leave it.”

“Right, if you say so.”

Rhoda rose and turned on the wireless.

A raucous voice said:

“You have just heard the Black Nubians play ‘Why do you tell me lies, Baby?’”

Fifteen

MAJOR DESPARD

Major Despard came out of the Albany, turned sharply into Regent Street and jumped on a bus.

It was the quiet time of day—the top of the bus had very few seats occupied. Despard made his way forward and sat down on the front seat.

He had jumped on the bus while it was going. Now it came to a halt, took up passengers and made its way once more up Regent Street.

A second traveller climbed the steps, made his way forward and sat down in the front seat on the other side.

Despard did not notice the newcomer, but after a few minutes a tentative voice murmured:

“It is a good view of London, is it not, that one gets from the top of a bus?”

Despard turned his head. He looked puzzled for a moment, then his face cleared.

“I beg your pardon, M. Poirot. I didn’t see it was you. Yes as you say, one has a good bird’s eye view of the world from here. It was better, though, in the old days, when there wasn’t all this caged-in glass business.”