Three Act Tragedy (Hercule Poirot 11)

Sir Charles registered for a moment the difference between the spoken and the written word. On paper Miss Wills was witty and cynical, in speech she was arch.

“It was really Satterthwaite put the idea into my head,” said Sir Charles. “He fancies himself as being a good judge of character.”

“He’s very clever about people,” said Miss Wills. “It’s rather his hobby, I should say.”

“And he is strongly of opinion that if there were anything worth noticing that night at Melfort Abbey you would have noticed it.”

“Is that what he said?”

“Yes.”

“I was very interested, I must admit,” said Miss Wills slowly. “You see, I’d never seen a murder at close hand before. A writer’s got to take everything as copy, hasn’t she?”

“I believe that’s a well-known axiom.”

“So naturally,” said Miss Wills, “I tried to notice everything I could.”

This was obviously Miss Wills’s version of Beatrice’s “poking and prying.”

“About the guests?”

“About the guests.”

“And what exactly did you notice?”

The pince-nez shifted.

“I didn’t really find out anything—if I had I’d have told the police, of course,” she added virtuously.

“But you noticed things.”

“I always do notice things. I can’t help it. I’m funny that way.” She giggled.

“And you noticed—what?”

“Oh, nothing—that is—nothing that you’d call anything, Sir Charles. Just little odds and ends about people’s characters. I find people so very interesting. So typical, if you know what I mean.”

“Typical of what?”

“Of themselves. Oh, I can’t explain. I’m ever so silly at saying things.”

She giggled again.

“Your pen is deadlier than your tongue,” said Sir Charles, smiling.

“I don’t think it’s very nice of you to say deadlier, Sir Charles.”

“My dear Miss Wills, admit that with a pen in your hand you’re quite merciless.”

“I think you’re horrid, Sir Charles. It’s you who are merciless to me.”

“I must get out of this bog of badinage,” said Sir Charles to himself. He said aloud:

“So you didn’t find out anything concrete, Miss Wills?”

“No—not exactly. At least, there was one thing. Something I noticed and ought to have told the police about, only I forgot.”

“What was that?”