One, Two, Buckle My Shoe (Hercule Poirot 23)

“If it wasn’t suicide, he was murdered. But why? That solution seems almost as unlikely as the other. He seems to have been a quiet, inoffensive sort of chap. Who would want to murder him?”

Poirot said:

“Who could have murdered him?”

Japp said:

“The answer to that is—almost anybody! His sister could have come down from their flat above and shot him, one of the servants could have come in and shot him. His partner, Reilly, could have shot him. The boy Alfred could have shot him. One of the patients could have shot him.” He paused and said, “And Amberiotis could have shot him—easiest of the lot.”

Poirot nodded.

“But in that case—we have to find out why.”

“Exactly. You’ve come round again to the original problem. Why? Amberiotis is staying at the Savoy. Why does a rich Greek want to come and shoot an inoffensive dentist?”

“That’s really going to be our stumbling block. Motive!”

Poirot shrugged his shoulders. He said:

“It would seem that death selected, most inartistically, the wrong man. The Mysterious Greek, the Rich Banker, the Famous Detective—how natural that one of them should be shot! For mysterious foreigners may be mixed up in espionage and rich bankers have connections who will benefit by their deaths and famous detectives may be dangerous to criminals.”

“Whereas poor old Morley wasn’t dangerous to anybody,” observed Japp gloomily.

“I wonder.”

Japp whirled round on him.

“What’s up your sleeve

now?”

“Nothing. A chance remark.”

He repeated to Japp those few casual words of Mr. Morley’s about recognizing faces, and his mention of a patient.

Japp looked doubtful.

“It’s possible, I suppose. But it’s a bit far-fetched. It might have been someone who wanted their identity kept dark. You didn’t notice any of the other patients this morning?”

Poirot murmured:

“I noticed in the waiting room a young man who looked exactly like a murderer!”

Japp said, startled: “What’s that?”

Poirot smiled:

“Mon cher, it was upon my arrival here! I was nervous, fanciful—enfin, in a mood. Everything seemed sinister to me, the waiting room, the patients, the very carpet on the stairs! Actually, I think the young man had very bad toothache. That was all!”

“I know what it can be,” said Japp. “However, we’ll check up on your murderer all the same. We’ll check up on everybody, whether it’s suicide or not. I think the first thing is to have another talk with Miss Morley. I’ve only had a word or two. It was a shock to her, of course, but she’s the kind that doesn’t break down. We’ll go and see her now.”

III

Tall and grim, Georgina Morley listened to what the two men had said and answered their questions. She said with emphasis:

“It’s incredible to me—quite incredible—that my brother should have committed suicide!”

Poirot said: