Stephen Farr said slowly:
‘I think I see what you’re driving at. What was Simeon Lee like in his young days? Well—you want me to be frank, I suppose?’
‘If you please.’
‘Well, to begin with, I don’t think that Simeon Lee was a highly moral member of society. I don’t mean that he was exactly a crook, but he sailed pretty near the wind. His morals were nothing to boast about anyway. He had charm, though, a good deal of it. And he was fantastically generous. No one with a hard-luck story ever appealed to him in vain. He drank a bit, but not over-much, was attractive to women, and had a sense of humour. All the same, he had a queer revengeful streak in him. Talk of the elephant never forgets and you talk of Simeon Lee. My father told me of several cases where Lee waited years to get even with someone who’d done him a nasty turn.’
Superintendent Sugden said:
‘Two might play at that game. You’ve no knowledge, I suppose, Mr Farr, of anyone who Simeon Lee had done a bad turn to out there? Nothing out of the past that could explain the crime committed here this evening?’
Stephen Farr shook his head.
‘He had enemies, of course, must have had, being the man he was. But I know of no specific case. Besides,’ his eyes narrowed, ‘I understand (as a matter of fact, I’ve been questioning Tressilian) there have been no strangers in or near the house this evening.’
Hercule Poirot said:
‘With the exception of yourself, M. Farr.’
Stephen Farr swung round upon him.
‘Oh, so that’s it? Suspicious stranger within the gates! Well, you won’t find anything of that kind. No back history of Simeon Lee doing Ebenezer Farr down, and Eb’s son coming over to revenge his dad! No,’ he shook his head. ‘Simeon and Ebenezer had nothing against each other. I came here, as I’ve told you, out of sheer curiosity. And moreover, I should imagine a gramophone is as good an alibi as anything else. I never stopped putting on records—somebody must have heard them. One record wouldn’t give me time to race away upstairs—these passages are a mile long, anyway—slit an old man’s throat, wash off the blood, and get back again before the others came rushing up. The idea’s farcical!’
Colonel Johnson said:
‘We’re not making any insinuations against you, Mr Farr.’
Stephen Farr said:
‘I didn’t care much for the tone of Mr Hercule Poirot’s voice.’
‘That,’ said Hercule Poirot, ‘is unfortunate!’
He smiled benignly at the other.
Stephen Farr looked angrily at him.
Colonel Johnson interposed quickly:
‘Thank you, Mr Farr. That will be all for the present. You will, of course, not leave this house.’
Stephen Farr nodded. He got up and left the room, walking with a freely swinging stride.
As the door closed behind him, Johnson said:
‘There goes X, the unknown quantity. His story seems straightforward enough. All the same, he’s the dark horse. He might have pinched those diamonds—might have come here with a bogus story just to gain admittance. You’d better get his fingerprints, Sugden, and see if he’s known.’
‘I’ve already got them,’ said the superintendent with a dry smile.
‘Good man. You don’t overlook much. I suppose you’re on to all the obvious lines?’
Superintendent Sugden checked off on his fingers.
‘Check up on those telephone calls—times, etc. Check up on Horbury. What time he left, who saw him go. Check up all entrances and exits. Check up on staff generally. Check up financial position of members of family. Get on to the lawyers and check up on will. Search house for the weapon and for bloodstains on clothing—also possibly diamonds hidden somewhere.’
‘That covers everything, I think,’ said Colonel Johnson approvingly. ‘Can you suggest anything, M. Poirot?’
Poirot shook his head. He said: