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

At that moment David Lee came out of the house and along the terrace towards them. He said, and his voice had a clear joyful note in it:

‘Hilda, isn’t it a glorious day? Almost like spring instead of winter.’

He came nearer. His head was thrown back, a lock of fair hair fell across his forehead, his blue eyes shone. He looked amazingly young and boyish. There was about him a youthful eagerness, a carefree radiance. Hercule Poirot caught his breath…

David said: ‘Let’s go down to the lake, Hilda.’

She smiled, put her arm through his, and they moved off together.

As Poirot watched them go, he saw her turn and give him a rapid glance. He caught a momentary glimpse of swift anxiety—or was it, he wondered, fear?

Slowly Hercule Poirot walked to the other end of the terrace. He murmured to himself:

‘As I have always said, me, I am the father confessor! And since women come to confession more frequently than men, it is women who have come to me this morning. Will there, I wonder, be another very shortly?’

As he turned at the end of the terrace and paced back again, he knew that his question was answered. Lydia Lee was coming towards him.

IV

Lydia said:

‘Good morning, M. Poirot. Tressilian told me I should find you out here with Harry; but I am glad to find you alone. My husband has been speaking about you. I know he is very anxious to talk to you.’

‘Ah! Yes? Shall I go and see him now?’

‘Not just yet. He got hardly any sleep last night. In the end I gave him a strong sleeping draught. He is still asleep, and I don’t want to disturb him.’

‘I quite understand. That was very wise. I could see last night that the shock had been very great.’

She said seriously:

‘You see, M. Poirot, he really cared—much more than the others.’

‘I understand.’

She asked:

‘Have you—has the superintendent—any idea of who can have done this awful thing?’

Poirot said deliberately:

‘We have certain ideas, madame, as to who did not do it.’

Lydia said, almost impatiently:

‘It’s like a nightmare—so fantastic—I can’t believe it’s real!’

She added:

‘What about Horbury? Was he really at the cinema, as he said?’

‘Yes, madame, his story has been checked. He was speaking the truth.’

Lydia stopped and plucked at a bit of yew. Her face went a little paler. She said:

‘But that’s awful! It only leaves—the family!’

‘Exactly.’