Dumb Witness (Hercule Poirot 16)

Poirot said, quietly:

“Miss Arundell didn’t tell you she had written to me on the subject of that money?”

“No, indeed. I had no idea—Well, really, I must say I’m very surprised—”

“You thought she would not have mentioned it to anyone?”

“I certainly didn’t think so. You see, she had a very good idea—”

She stopped again. Poirot said, quickly:

“She had a very good idea who took it. That is what you would say, is it not?”

Miss Lawson nodded and continued breathlessly:

“And I shouldn’t have thought she would have wanted—well, I mean she said—that is, she seemed to feel—”

Again Poirot cut in neatly into the midst of these incoherencies.

“It was a family matter?”

“Exactly.”

“But me,” said Poirot, “I specialize in family matters. I am, you see, very very discreet.”

Miss Lawson nodded vigorously.

“Oh! of course—that makes a difference. It’s not like the police.”

“No, no. I am not at all like the police. That would not have done at all.”

“Oh, no. Dear Miss Arundell was such a proud woman. Of course, there had been trouble before with Charles, but it was always hushed up. Once, I believe, he had to go to Australia!”

“Just so,” said Poirot. “Now the facts of the case were as follows, were they not? Miss Arundell had a sum of money in a drawer—”

He paused. Miss Lawson hastened to confirm his statement.

“Yes—from the Bank. For the wages, you know, and the books.”

“And how much was missing exactly?”

“Four pound notes. No, no, I am wrong, three pound notes and two ten-shilling notes. One must be exact, I know, very exact, in such matters.” Miss Lawson looked at him earnestly and absentmindedly knocked her pince-nez a little farther awry. Her rather prominent eyes seemed to goggle at him.

“Thank you, Miss Lawson. I see you have an excellent business sense.”

Miss Lawson bridled a little and uttered a deprecatory laugh.

“Miss Arundell suspected, no doubt with reason, that her nephew Charles was responsible for this theft,” went on Poirot.

“Yes.”

“Although there was no particular evidence to show who actually took the money?”

“Oh, but it must have been Charles! Mrs. Tanios wouldn’t do such a thing, and her husband was quite a stranger and wouldn’t have known where the money was kept—neither of them would. And I don’t think Theresa Arundell would dream of such a thing. She’s got plenty of money and always so beautifully dressed.”

“It might have been one of the servants,” Poirot suggested.

Miss Lawson seemed horrified by the idea.