Dumb Witness (Hercule Poirot 16)

“She has confided in you?”

“Well—not exactly that. In fact, she won’t say anything at all. Just repeats that she’s left him and that nothing will induce her to go back to him!”

“That is a very serious step to take?”

“Of course it is! In fact, if he’d been an Englishman, I would have advised her—but there, he isn’t an Englishman… And she looks so peculiar, poor thing, so—well, so scared. What can he have been doing to her? I believe Turks are frightfully cruel sometimes.”

“Dr. Tanios is a Greek.”

“Yes, of course, that’s the other way about—I mean, they’re usually the ones who get massacred by the Turks—or am I thinking of Armenians? But all the same, I don’t like to think of it. I don’t think she ought to go back to him, do you, M. Poirot? Anyway, I mean, she says she won’t… She doesn’t even want him to know where she is.”

“As bad as that?”

“Yes, you see it’s the children. She’s so afraid he could take them back to Smyrna. Poor soul, she really is in a terrible way. You see, she’s got no money—no money at all. She doesn’t know where to go or what to do. She wants to try and earn her living but really, you know, M. Poirot, that’s not so easy as it sounds. I know that. It’s not as though she were trained for anything.”

“When did she leave her husband?”

“Yesterday. She spent last night in a little hotel near Paddington. She came to me because she couldn’t think of anyone else to go to, poor thing.”

“And are you going to help her? That is very good of you.”

“Well, you see, M. Poirot, I really feel it’s my duty. But of course, it’s all very difficult. This is a very small flat and there’s no room—and what with one thing and another.”

“You could send her to Littlegreen House?”

“I suppose I could—but you see, her husband might think of that. Just for the moment I’ve got her rooms at the Wellington Hotel in Queen’s Road. She’s staying there under the name of Mrs. Peters.”

“I see,” said Poirot.

He paused for a minute, then said:

“I would like to see Mrs. Tanios. You see, she called at my flat yesterday but I was out.”

“Oh, did she? She didn’t tell me that. I’ll tell her, shall I?”

“If you would be so good.”

Miss Lawson hurried out of the room. We could hear her voice.

“Bella—Bella—my dear, will you come and see M. Poirot?”

We did not hear Mrs. Tanios’ reply, but a minute or two later she came into the room.

I was really shocked at her appearance. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheeks were completely destitute of colour, but what struck me far more than this was her obvious air of terror. She started at the least provocation, and she seemed to be continually listening.

Poirot greeted her in his most soothing manner. He came forward, shook hands, arranged a chair for her and handed her a cushion. He treated the pale, frightened woman as though she had been a queen.

“And now, madame, let us have a little chat. You came to see me yesterday, I believe?”

She nodded.

“I regret very much that I was away from home.”

“Yes—yes, I wish y

ou had been there.”

“You came because you wanted to tell me something?”