"I beg your pardon?"
POirot smiled at her slight discomfiture.
"I said, 'Why not?' "he repeated.
"I'm not sure that I understand."
"Yet it is very simple. The police--the lawyers
--they will all ask the same question: Why did
Major Rich kill M. Clayton? I ask the opposite. I
ask you, madame, why did Major Rich not kill
Major Clayton?"
"You mean--why I'm so sure? Well, but I
know. I know Major Rich so well."
"You know Major Rich so well," repeated
Poirot tonelessly.
The color flamed into her cheeks.
"Yes, that's what they'll say--what they'll
think! Oh, I know!"
"C'est vrai. That is what they will ask you
about--how well you knew Major Rich. Perhaps
you will speak the truth, perhaps you will lie. It is
very necessary for a woman to lie sometimes.
Women must defend themselves--and the lie, it is
a good weapon. But there are three people, ma-dame,
to whom a woman should speak the truth.
To her father confessor, to her hairdresser and to
her private detective--if she trusts him. Do you
trust me, madame?"
Marguerita Clayton drew a deep breath. "Yes,"
she said. "I do. I must," she added rather child-ishly.
"Then, how well do you know Major Rich?"
THE MYSTERY OF THE BAGDAD CHEST 37