Poirofs eyes flickered.
"A very odd procedure," he said. His voice was carefully unexcited.
"I thought it most ungrateful," said Dr. Tanios's wife hotly.
"As you say, elderly ladies distrust foreigners sometimes," said Poirot. "I am sure they think that English doctors are the only doctors in the world. Insularity accounts for a lot." "Yes, I suppose it does." Mrs. Tanios looked slightly mollified.
"When do you return to Smyrna, madame?" "In a few weeks' time. My husband--ah!
here is my husband and John with him."
XVII Dr. Tan/os
I must say that my first sight of Dr. Tanios was rather a shock. I had been imbuing him in my mind with all sorts of sinister attributes.
I had been picturing to myself a dark bearded foreigner with a swarthy aspect and a sinister cast of countenance.
Instead, I saw a rotund, jolly, brownhaired, brown-eyed man. And though it is true he had a beard, it was a modest brown affair that made him look more like an artist.
He spoke English perfectly. His voice had a pleasant timbre and matched the cheerful good-humour of his face.
"Here we are," he said, smiling to his wife. "John has been passionately thrilled by his first ride in the tube. He has always been in buses until today." John was not unlike his father in appearance, but both he and his little sister had a definitely foreign-looking appearance and I understood what Miss Peabody had meant when she described them as rather yellowlooking children.
The presence of her husband seemed to make Mrs. Tanios nervous. Stammering a little, she introduced Poirot to him. Me, she ignored.
Dr. Tanios took up the name sharply.
"Poirot? Monsieur Hercule Poirot? But I know that name well! And what brings you to us, M. Poirot?" "It is the affair of a lady lately deceased.
Miss Emily Arundell," replied Poirot.
"My wife's aunt? Yes--what of her?" Poirot said slowly: "Certain matters have arisen in connection with her death--" Mrs. Tanios broke in suddenly: "It's about the will, Jacob. M. Poirot has been conferring with Theresa and Charles." Some of the tensity went out of Dr. Tamos's attitude. He dropped into a chair.
"Ah, the will! An iniquitous will--but there, it is not my business, I suppose." Poirot sketched an account of his interview with the two Arundells (hardly a truthful one, I may say) and cautiously hinted at a fighting chance of upsetting the will.
"You interest me, M. Poirot, very much.
I may say I am of your opinion. Something could be done. I actually went as far as to consult a lawyer on the subject, but his advice was not encouraging. Therefore--" He shrugged his shoulders.
"Lawyers, as I have told your wife, are cautious people. They do not like taking chances. But me, I am different! And you?" Dr. Tanios laughed--a rich, rollicking laugh.
"Oh, I'd take a chance all right! Often have, haven't I, Bella, old girl?" He smiled across at her, and she smiled back at him-- but in a rather mechanical manner, I thought.
He turned his attention back to Poirot.
"I am not a lawyer," he said. "But in my opinion it is perfectly clear that that will was made when the old lady was not responsible for what she was doing. That Lawson woman is both clever and cunning." Mrs. Tanios moved uneasily. Poirot looked at her quickly.
"You do not agree, madame?" She said rather weakly: "She has always been very kind. I shouldn't call her clever." "She's been kind to you," said Dr. Tanios, "because she had nothing to fear from you, my dear Bella. You're easily taken in!" He spoke quite good-humouredly, but his wife flushed.
"With me it was different," he went on.
"She didn't like me. And she made no bones about showing it! I'll give you an instance.
The old lady had a fall down the stairs when we were staying there. I insisted on coming back the following week-end to see how she was. Miss Lawson did her utmost to prevent us. She didn't succeed, but she was annoyed about it, I could see. The reason was clear. She wanted the old lady to herself." Again Poirot turned to the wife.
"You agree, madame?" Her husband did not give her time to answer.
"Bella's too kind-hearted," he said. "You won't get her to impute bad motives to anybody.
But I'm quite sure I was right. I'll tell you another thing, M. Poirot. The secret of her ascendency over old Miss Arundell was spiritualism! That's how it was done, depend upon it!" "You think so?" "Sure of it, my dear fellow. I've seen a lot of that sort of thing. It gets hold of people.
You'd be amazed! Especially any one of Miss Arundell's age. I'd be prepared to bet that that's how the suggestion came. Some spirit—possibly her dead father—ordered her to alter her will and leave her money to the Lawson woman. She was in bad health —credulous—" There was a very faint movement from Mrs. Tanios. Poirot turned to her.
"You think it possible—yes?" "Speak up, Bella," said Dr. Tanios. "Tell us your views." He looked at her encouragingly. Her quick look back at him was an odd one. She hesitated, then said: "I know so little about these things. I dare say you're right, Jacob." "Depend upon it I'm all right, eh, M.
Poirot?" Poirot nodded his head.
"It may be—yes." Then he said, "You were down at Market Basing, I think, the week-end before Miss Arundell's death?" "We were down at Easter and again the week-end after—that is right." "No, no, I meant the week-end after that—on the 26th. You were there on the Sunday, I think?" "Oh, Jacob, were you?" Mrs. Tanios looked at him wide-eyed.
He turned quickly.
"Yes, you remember? I just ran down in the afternoon. I told you about it." Both Poirot and I were looking at her.
Nervously she pushed her hat a little further back on her head.
"Surely you remember, Bella," her husband continued. "What a terrible memory you've got." "Of course!" she apologized, a thin smile on her face. "It's quite true; I have a shocking memory. And it's nearly two months ago now." "Miss Theresa Arundell and Mr. Charles Arundell were there then, I believe?" said Poirot.
"They may have been," said Tanios easily.
"I didn't see them." "You were not there very long then?" "Oh, no--just half an hour or so." Poirot's inquiring gaze seemed to make him a little uneasy.
"Might as well confess," he said with a twinkle. "I hoped to get a loan--but I didn't get it. I'm afraid my wife's aunt didn't take to me as much as she might. Pity, because I liked her. She was a sporting old lady." "May I ask you a frank question. Dr. Tanios?" Was there or was there not a momentary apprehension in Tamos5 s eye?
"Certainly, M. Poirot." "What is your opinion of Charles and Theresa Arundell?" The doctor looked slightly relieved.
"Charles and Theresa?" He looked at his wife with an affectionate smile. "Bella, my dear, I don't suppose you mind my being frank about your family?" She shook her head, smiling faintly.
"Then it's my opinion they're rotten to the core, both of them! Funnily enough I like Charles the best. He's a rogue, but he's a likable rogue. He's no moral sense, but he can't help that. People are born that way." "And Theresa?" He hesitated.
"I don't know. She's an amazingly attractive young woman. But she's quite ruthless, I should say. She'd murder any one in cold blood if it suited her book. At least that's my fancy. You may have heard, perhaps, that her mother was tried for murder." "And acquitted," said Poirot.
"As you say 'and acquitted,' " said Tanios quickly. "But all the same, it makes one- wonder. sometimes.'' "You met the young man to whom she is engaged?" "Donaldson? Yes, he came to supper one night." "What do you think of him?" "A very clever fellow. I fancy he'll go far--if he gets the chance. It takes money to specialize." "You mean that he is clever in his profession?"
"That is what I mean, yes. A first-class brain." He smiled. "Not quite a shining light in society yet. A little precise and prim in manner. He and Theresa make a comic pair. The attraction of opposites. She's a social butterfly and he's a recluse." The two children were bombarding their mother.
"Mother, can't we go in to lunch? I'm so hungry. We'll be
late." Poirot looked at his watch and gave an exclamation.
"A thousand pardons! I delay your lunch hour." Glancing at her husband, Mrs. Tanios said uncertainly: "Perhaps we can offer you--" Poirot said quickly: "You are most amiable, madame, but I have a luncheon engagement for which I am already late." He shook hands with both the Tanioses and with the children. I did the same.
We delayed for a minute or two in the hall. Poirot wanted to put through a telephone call. I waited for him by the hall porter's desk. I was standing there when I saw Mrs. Tanios come out into the hall and look searchingly around. She had a hunted, harried look. She saw me and came swiftly across to me.
"Your friend--M. Poirot--I suppose he has gone?" "No, he is in the telephone box." "Oh." "You wanted to speak to him?" She nodded. Her air of nervousness increased.
Poirot came out of the box at that moment and saw us standing together. He came quickly across to us.
"M. Poirot," she began quickly in a low, hurried voice. "There is something that I would like to say--that I must tell you--" "Yes, madame." "It is important--very important. You see--" She stopped. Dr. Tanios and the two children had just emerged from the writingroom.
He came across and joined us.
"Having a few last words with M. Poirot, Bella?" His tone was good-humoured, the smile on his face pleasantness itself.
"Yes--" She hesitated, then said, "Well, that is really all, M. Poirot. I just wanted you to tell Theresa that we will back her up in anything she decides to do. I quite see that the family must stand together." She nodded brightly to us, then taking her husband's arm she moved off in the direction of the dining-room.
I caught Poirot by the shoulder.
"That wasn't what she started to say, Poirot!" He shook his head slowly, watching the retreating couple.
"She changed her mind," I went on.
"Yes, mon ami, she changed her mind." "Why?" "I wish I knew," he murmured.
"She will tell us some other time," I said hopefully.
<
XVIII "A Nigger In the Woodpile"
we had lunch at a small restaurant not far away. I was eager to learn what he made of the various members of the Arundell family.
"Well, Poirot?" I asked impatiently.
With a look of reproof Poirot turned his whole attention to the menu. When he had ordered he leaned back in his chair, broke his roll of bread in half and said with a slightly mocking intonation: "Well, Hastings?" "What do you think of them now you've seen them all?" Poirot replied slowly: "Ma foi, I thihk they are an interesting lot! Really, this case is an enchanting study! It is, how do you say, the box of surprises?
Look how each time I say, (I got a letter from Miss Arundell before she died,' something crops up. From Miss Lawson I learn about the missing money. Mrs. Tanios says at once, 'About my husband?5 Why about her husband? Why should Miss Arundell write to me, Hercule Poirot, about Dr. Tamos?" "That woman has something on her mind," I said.
"Yes, she knows something. But what? Miss Peabody tells us that Charles Arundell would murder his grandmother for twopence.
Miss Lawson says that Mrs. Tanios would murder any one if her husband told her to do so. Dr. Tanios says that Charles and Theresa are rotten to the core, and he hints that their mother was a murderess and says apparently carelessly that Theresa is capable of murdering any one in cold blood.
"They have a pretty opinion of each other, all these people! Dr. Tanios thinks, or says he thinks, that there was undue influence.
His wife, before he came in, evidently did not think so. She does not want to contest the will at first. Later she veers round. See you, Hastings--it is a pot that boils and seethes and every now and then a significant fact comes to the surface and can be seen.
There is something in the depths there--yes, there is something! I swear it, by my faith as Hercule Poirot, I swear it!" I was impressed in spite of myself by his earnestness.
After a minute or two I said: "Perhaps you are right, but it seems so vague--so nebulous." "But you agree with me that there is something?"
"Yes," I said hesitatingly. "I believe I do." Poirot leaned across the table. His eyes bored into mine.
"Yes--you have changed. You are no longer amused, superior--indulging me in my academic pleasures. But what is it that has convinced you? It is not my excellent reasoning--non, ce n'est pas ca! But something--something quite independent--has produced an effect on you. Tell me, my friend, what it is that has suddenly induced you to take this matter seriously?" "I think," I said slowly, "it was Mrs. Tanios.
She looked--she looked--afraid...." "Afraid of me?" "No--no, not of you. It was something else. She spoke so quietly and sensibly to begin with--a natural resentment at the terms of the will, perhaps, but otherwise she seemed so resigned and willing to leave things as they are. It seemed the natural attitude of a well-bred but rather apathetic woman. And then that sudden change--the eagerness with which she came over to Dr.
Tanios's point of view. The way she came out into the hall after us--the--almost furtive way--" Poirot nodded encouragingly.
"And another little thing which you may not have noticed--" "I notice everything!" "I mean the point about her husband's visit to Littlegreen House on that last Sunday.
I could swear she knew nothing of it-- that it was the most complete surprise to her--and yet she took her cue so quickly-- agreed that he had told her about it and that she had forgotten. I--I didn't like it, Poirot." "You are quite right, Hastings--it was significant--that." "It left an ugly impression of--of fear on me." Poirot nodded his head slowly.
"You felt the same?" I asked.
"Yes--that impression was very definitely in the air." He paused and then went on: "And yet you liked Tanios, did you not? You found him an agreeable man, openhearted, good-natured, genial. Attractive in spite of your insular prejudice against the Argentines, the Portuguese and the Greeks--a thoroughly congenial personality?" "Yes," I admitted. "I did." In the silence that ensued, I watched Poirot. Presently I said: "What are you thinking of, Poirot?" "I am reflecting on various people, handsome young Norman Gale, bluff, hearty Evelyn Howard, the pleasant Dr. Sheppard, the quiet, reliable Knighton." For a moment I did not understand these references to people who had figured in past cases.
"What of them?" I asked.
"They were all delightful personalities.
..." "My goodness, Poirot, do you really think Tanios--" "No, no. Do not jump to conclusions, Hastings. I am only pointing out that one's own personal reactions to people are singularly unsafe guides. One must go not by one's feelings but by facts." "H'm," I said. "Facts are not our strong suit. No, no, Poirot, don't go over it all again!" "I will be brief, my friend, do not fear.
To beein with, we have quite certainly a case of attempted murder. You admit that, do you not?" "Yes," I said slowly. "I do." I had, up to now, been a little sceptical over Poirot's (as I thought) somewhat fanciful reconstruction of the events on the night of Easter Tuesday. I was forced to admit, however, that his deductions were perfectly logical.
"Tres bien. Now one cannot have attempted murder without a murderer. One of the people present on that evening was a murderer--in intention if not in fact." "Granted." "Then that is our starting point--a murderer. We make a few inquiries--we, as you would say--stir the mud--and what do we get--several very interesting accusations uttered apparently casually in the course of conversations." "You think they were not casual?" "Impossible to tell at the moment! Miss Lawson's innocent-seeming way of bringing out the fact that Charles threatened his aunt may have been quite innocent or it may not. Dr. Tanios's remarks about Theresa Arundell may have absolutely no malice behind them, but be merely a physician's genuine opinion. Miss Peabody, on the other hand, is probably quite genuine in her opinion of Charles ArundelFs proclivities--but it is, after all, merely an opinion. So it goes on.
There is a saying, is there not, a nigger in the woodpile. Eh bien, that is just what I find here. There is--not a nigger--but a murderer in our woodpile."
"What I'd like to know is what you yourself really think, Poirot." "Hastings--Hastings--I do not permit myself to 'think'--not, that is, in the sense that you are using the word. At the moment I only make certain reflections." "Such as?" "I consider the question of motive. What are the likely motives for Miss ArundelFs death? Clearly the most obvious one is gain. Who would have gained by Miss ArundelFs death--if she had died on Easter Tuesday?" "Every one--with the exception of Miss Lawson." "Precisely." "Well, at any rate, one person is automatically cleared." "Yes," said Poirot thoughtfully. "It would seem so. But the interesting thing is that the person who would have gained nothing if death had occurred on Easter Tuesday gains everything when death occurs two weeks later." "What are you getting at, Poirot?" I said, slightly puzzled.
Agatha Christie - Poirot Loses A Client Page 14
