Hercule Poirot's Christmas: A Hercule Poirot Mystery (Hercule Poirot 20)

‘Nothing much more that I can do here. You’ve got things well in hand, Sugden. Oh, just one thing. We ought to see the butler fellow. I know you’ve questioned him, but we know a bit more about things now. It’s important to get confirmation of just where everybody says he was at the time of the murder.’

Tressilian came in slowly. The chief constable told him to sit down.

‘Thank you, sir. I will, if you don’t mind. I’ve been feeling very queer—very queer indeed. My legs, sir, and my head.’

Poirot said gently: ‘You have had the shock, yes.’

The butler shuddered. ‘Such—such a violent thing to happen. In this house! Where everything has always gone on so quietly.’

Poirot said:

‘It was a well-ordered house, yes? But not a happy one?’

‘I wouldn’t like to say that, sir.’

‘In the old days when all the family was at home, it was happy then?’

Tressilian said slowly:

‘It wasn’t perhaps what one would call very harmonious, sir.’

‘The late Mrs Lee was somewhat of an invalid, was she not?’

‘Yes, sir, very poorly she was.’

‘Were her children fond of her?’

‘Mr David, he was devoted to her. More like a daughter than a son. And after she died he broke away, couldn’t face living here any longer.’

Poirot said: ‘And Mr Harry? What was he like?’

‘Always rather a wild young gentleman, sir, but good-hearted. Oh, dear, gave me quite a turn, it did, when the bell rang—and then again, so impatient like, and I opened the door and there was a strange man, and then Mr Harry’s voice said, “Hallo, Tressilian. Still here, eh?” Just the same as ever.’

Poirot said sympathetically:

‘It must have been the strange feeling, yes, indeed.’

Tressilian said, a little pink flush showing in his cheek:

‘It seems sometimes, sir, as though the past isn’t the past! I believe there’s been a play on in London about something like that. There’s something in it, sir—there really is. There’s a feeling comes over you—as though you’d done everything before. It just seems to me as though the bell rings and I go to answer it and there’s Mr Harry—even if it should be Mr Farr or some other person—I’m just saying to myself—but I’ve done this before…’

Poirot said:

‘That is very interesting—very interesting.’

Tressilian looked at him gratefully.

Johnson, somewhat impatient, cleared his throat and took charge of the conversation.

‘Just want to get various times checked correctly,’ he said. ‘Now, when the noise upstairs started, I understand that only Mr Alfred Lee and Mr Harry Lee were in the dining-room. Is that so?’

‘I really couldn’t tell you, sir. All the gentlemen were there when I served coffee to them—but that would be about a quarter of an hour earlier.’

‘Mr George Lee was telephoning. Can you confirm that?’

‘I think somebody did telephone, sir. The bell rings in my pantry, and when anybody takes off the receiver to call a number, there’s just a faint noise on the bell. I do remember hearing that, but I didn’t pay attention to it.’

‘You don’t know exactly when it was?’