‘It seemed so to me,’ said Raynor.
Japp turned again to Lucia. ‘You wouldn’t have needed so many tablets to make you sleep. One or two would have been sufficient. What did you do with the rest?’
Lucia thought for a moment, before replying, ‘I can’t remember.’ She was about to continue, when Carelli rose to his feet and burst out venomously, ‘You see, Inspector? There’s your murderess.’
Barbara rose quickly from the settee and moved away from Carelli, while Hastings hurried to her side. The Italian continued, ‘You shall have the truth, Inspector. I came down here especially to see that woman. She had sent for me. She said she would get Sir Claud’s formula, and she offered to sell it to me. I’ll admit that I’ve dealt with such things in the past.’
‘That’s not much of an admission,’ Japp advised him, moving between Carelli and Lucia. ‘We know as much already.’ He turned to Lucia. ‘What have you to say to all this, ma’am?’
Lucia rose, her face drained of colour, and Richard went to her. ‘I’m not going to allow –’ he began, when Japp stopped him.
‘If you please, sir.’
Carelli spoke again. ‘Just look at that woman! None of you know who she is. But I do! She’s the daughter of Selma Goetz. The daughter of one of the most infamous women the world has ever known.’
‘It’s not true, Richard,’ Lucia cried. ‘It’s not true! Don’t listen to him –’
‘I’ll break every bone in your body!’ Richard Amory growled at Carelli.
Japp took a pace towards Richard. ‘Keep calm, sir, do keep calm, please,’ he admonished. ‘We’ve got to get to the bottom of this.’ Japp turned to Lucia. ‘Now then, Mrs Amory.’
There was a pause. Then Lucia tried to speak. ‘I – I –’ she began. She looked at her husband and then at Poirot, holding out her hand helplessly to the detective.
‘Have courage, madame,’ Poirot advised her. ‘Trust in me. Tell them. Tell them the truth. We have come to the point where lies will serve no longer. The truth will have to come out.’
Lucia looked pleadingly at Poirot, but he merely repeated, ‘Have courage, madame. Si, si. Be brave and speak.’ He returned to his position by the french windows.
After a long pause, Lucia began to speak, her voice low and stifled. ‘It is true that I am Selma Goetz’s daughter. It is not true that I asked that man to come here, or that I offered to sell him Sir Claud’s formula. He came here to blackmail me!’
‘Blackmail!’ gasped Richard, moving to her.
Lucia turned to Richard. There was an urgency in her tone as she spoke. ‘He threatened to tell you about my mother unless I got the formula for him, but I didn’t do it. I think he must have stolen it. He had the chance. He was alone in there – in the study. And I see now that he wanted me to take the hyoscine and kill myself, so that everyone would think that it was I who had stolen the formula. He almost hypnotized me into –’ She broke down and sobbed on Richard’s shoulder.
With a cry of ‘Lucia, my darling!’ Richard embraced her. Then, passing his wife over to Miss Amory, who had risen and who now embraced the distressed young woman consolingly, Richard addressed Japp. ‘Inspector, I want to speak to you alone.’
Japp looked at Richard Amory for a moment, and then gave a brief nod to Johnson. ‘Very well,’ he agreed, as the constable opened the door for Miss Amory and Lucia. Barbara and Hastings took the opportunity of returning to the garden through the french windows, while Edward Raynor, as he left, murmured to Richard, ‘I’m sorry, Mr Amory, very sorry.’
As Carelli picked up his suitcase and followed Raynor out, Japp instructed his constable, ‘Keep your eye on Mrs Amory – and also on Dr Carelli.’ Carelli turned at the door, and Japp continued, to the constable, ‘There’s to be no funny business from anyone, you understand?’
‘I understand, sir,’ replied Johnson as he followed Carelli out of the room.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Amory,’ said Japp to Richard Amory, ‘but after what Mr Raynor has told us, I’m bound to take every precaution. And I want Mr Poirot to remain here, as a witness to whatever you tell me.’
Richard approached Japp with the air of a man who has come to a momentous decision. Taking a deep breath, he spoke with determination. ‘Inspector!’
‘Well, sir, what is it?’ asked Japp.
Very deliberately and slowly, Richard replied, ‘I think it’s time I confessed. I killed my father.’
Japp smiled. ‘I’m afraid that won’t wash, sir.’
Richard looked astonished. ‘What do you mean?’
‘No, sir,’ Japp continued. ‘Or, to put it differently, that cat won’t jump. You’re very set on your good lady, I realize. Newly married and all that. But, to speak plainly to you, it’s no manner of use putting your neck in a halter for the sake of a bad woman. Though she’s a good looker, and no mistake, I’ll admit.’
‘Inspector Japp!’ exclaimed Richard, angrily.
‘There’s no point in getting upset with me, sir,’ Japp continued imperturbably. ‘I’ve told you the plain truth without beating about the bush, and I’ve no doubt that Mr Poirot here will tell you the same. I’m sorry, sir, but duty is duty, and murder is murder. That’s all there is to it.’ Japp nodded decisively, and left the room.
Turning to Poirot, who had been observing the scene from the settee, Richard asked coldly, ‘Well, are you going to tell me the same, Monsieur Poirot?’
Rising, Poirot took a cigarette-case from his pocket and extracted a cigarette. Instead of answering Richard’s question, he posed one of his own. ‘Monsieur Amory, when did you first suspect your wife?’ he asked.
‘I never –’ Richard began, but Poirot interrupted him, picking up a box of matches from the table as he spoke.
‘Please, I beg of you, Monsieur Amory, nothing but the truth! You did suspect her, I know it. You suspected her before I arrived. That is why you were so anxious to get me away from this house. Do not deny it. It is impossible to deceive Hercule Poirot.’ He lit his cigarette, replaced the box of matches on the table, and smiled up at the much taller man who towered over him. They made a ridiculous contrast.
‘You are mistaken,’ Richard told Poirot stiffly. ‘Utterly mistaken. How could I suspect Lucia?’
‘And yet, of course, there is an equally good case to be made against you,’ Poirot continued reflectively, as he resumed his seat. ‘You handled the drugs, you handled the coffee, you were short of money and desperate to acquire some. Oh, yes, anyone might be excused for suspecting you.’
‘Inspector Japp doesn’t seem to agree with you,’ Richard observed.
‘Ah, Japp! He has the common sense,’ Poirot smiled. ‘He is not a woman in love.’
‘A woman in love?’ Richard sounded puzzled.
‘Let me give you a lesson in psychology, monsieur,’ Poirot offered. ‘When I first arrived, your wife came up to me and begged me to stay here and discover the murderer. Would a guilty woman have done that?’
‘You mean –’ Richard began quickly.
‘I mean,’ Poirot interrupted him, ‘that before the sun sets tonight, you will be asking her pardon upon your knees.’
‘What
are you saying?’
‘I am saying too much, perhaps,’ Poirot admitted, rising. ‘Now, monsieur, place yourself in my hands. In the hands of Hercule Poirot.’
‘You can save her?’ Richard asked with desperation in his voice.
Poirot regarded him solemnly. ‘I have pledged my word – although, when I did so, I did not realize how difficult it was going to be. You see, the time it is very short, and something must be done quickly. You must promise me that you will do exactly as I tell you, without asking questions or making difficulties. Do you promise me that?’
‘Very well,’ replied Richard rather unwillingly.
‘That is good. And now, listen to me. What I suggest is neither difficult nor impossible. It is, in fact, the common sense. This house will shortly be given over to the police. They will swarm all over it. They will make their investigations everywhere. For yourself and your family it could be very unpleasant. I suggest that you leave.’
‘Give the house over to the police?’ Richard asked, incredulously.
‘That is my suggestion,’ Poirot repeated. ‘Of course, you will have to remain in the neighbourhood. But they say the local hotel is fairly comfortable. Engage rooms there. Then you will be close at hand when the police wish to question you all.’
‘But when do you suggest that this should take place?’
Poirot beamed at him. ‘My idea was – immediately.’
‘Surely it will all look very odd?’
‘Not at all, not at all,’ the little detective assured Richard, smiling again. ‘It will appear to be a move of the utmost – how do you say? – the utmost sensitivity. The associations here are hateful to you – you cannot bear to remain another hour. I assure you, it will sound very well.’
‘But how about the Inspector?’
‘I myself will fix it up with Inspector Japp.’
‘I still can’t see what good this is going to achieve,’ Richard persisted.
‘No, of course you do not see.’ Poirot sounded more than a trifle smug. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It is not necessary that you should see. But I see. I, Hercule Poirot. That is enough.’ He took Richard by the shoulders. ‘Go, and make the arrangements. Or, if you cannot give your mind to it, let Raynor make them for you. Go! Go!’ He almost pushed Richard to the door.