went to Rowena Drake. The codicil produced
was so obviously forged that any
lawyer would spot it. It would be
contested, and the evidence of experts
would result in its being upset, and the
original Will would stand. As Rowena
376
Drake's husband had recently died she
would inherit everything."
"But what about the codicil that the
cleaning woman witnessed?"
"My surmise is that Mrs. LlewellynSmythe
discovered that Michael Garfield
and Rowena Drake were having an affair
--probably before her husband died. In
her anger Mrs. Llewellyn-Smythe made a
codicil to her Will leaving everything to
her au pair girl. Probably the girl told
Michael about this--she was hoping to
marry him."
"I thought it was young Ferrier?"
"That was a plausible tale told me by
Michael. There was no confirmation of it."
"Then if he knew there was a real
codicil why didn't he marry Olga and get
hold of the money that way?"
"Because he doubted whether she really would get the money. There is such a
thing as undue influence. Mrs. LlewellynSmythe
was an elderly woman and a sick
woman also. All her preceding Wills had
been in favour of her own kith and kin
--good sensible Wills such as law courts
approve of. This girl from foreign parts
had been known to her only a year--and
HP25 377
had no kind of claim upon her. That
codicil even though genuine could have
been upset. Besides, I doubt if Olga could
have put through the purchase of a Greek
island--or would even have been willing to
do so. She had no influential friends, or
contacts in business circles. She was
attracted to Michael, but she looked upon
him as a good prospect matrimonially, who
would enable her to live in England--
which is what she wanted to do."
"And Rowena Drake?"
"She was infatuated. Her husband had
been for many years a crippled invalid.
She was middle-aged but she was a
passionate woman, and into her orbit came
a young man of unusual beauty. Women
fell for him easily--but he wanted--not
the beauty of women--but the exercise of
his own creative urge to make beauty. For
that he wanted money--a lot of money. As
for love--he loved only himself. He was
Narcissus. There is an old French song I
heard many years ago--"
He hummed softly.
"Regarde, Narcisse
Regarde, clans Feau . . .
378
Regarde, Narcisse, que to est beau
II n'y au monde
Que la Beaute
Et la Jeunesse,
Helas! Et la Jeunesse . . .
Regarde, Narcisse . . .
Regarde clans 1'eau ..."
"I can't believe--I simply can't believe
that anyone would do murder just to make
a garden on a Greek island," said Mrs.
Oliver unbelievingly.
"Can't you? Can't you visualise how he
held it in his mind? Bare rock, perhaps,
but so shaped as to hold possibilities. Earth, cargoes of fertile earth to clothe the bare
bones of the rocks--and then plants, seeds, shrubs, trees. Perhaps he read in
the paper of a shipping millionaire who
had created an island garden for the
woman he loved. And so it came to him
--he would make a garden, not for a
woman, but--for himself."
"It still seems to me quite mad."
"Yes. That happens. I doubt if he
even thought of his motive as sordid. He
thought of it only as necessary for the
creation of more beauty. He'd gone mad
379
on creation. The beauty of the Quarry
Wood, the beauty of other gardens he'd
laid out and made--and now he envisaged
even more--a whole island of beauty. And
there was Rowena Drake, infatuated with
him. What did she mean to him but the
source of money with which he could
create beauty. Yes--he had become mad, perhaps. Whom tine gods destroy, they
first drive mad."
"He really wanted his island so much?
Even with Rowena Drake tied round his
neck as well? Bos;sing him the whole
time?"
"Accidents can happen. I think one
might possibly have happened to Mrs.
Drake in due course."
"One more murder?"
"Yes. It started simply. Olga had to be
removed because she knew about the
codicil--and she wa s also to be the scapegoat,
branded as a forger. Mrs.
Llewellyn-Smythe had hidden the original
document, so I think that young Ferrier
was given money to produce a similar
forged document. So obviously forged that
it would arouse suspicion at once. That
sealed his death warrant. Lesley Ferrier, I
380
soon decided, had had no arrangement or
love affair with Olga. That was a suggestion
made to me by Michael Garfield, but
I think it was Michael who paid money to
Lesley. It was Michael Garfield who was
laying seige to the au pair girl's affections,
warning her to keep quiet about this and
not tell her employer, speaking of possible
marriage in the future but at the same time
marking her down cold-bloodedly as the
victim whom he and Rowena Drake would
need if the money was to come to them.
It was not necessary for Olga Seminoff to
be accused of forgery, or prosecuted. She
needed only to be suspected of it. The
forgery appeared to benefit her. It could
have been done by her very easily, there
was evidence to the effect that she did
copy her employer's handwriting and if
she was suddenly to disappear, it would be
assumed that she had been not only a
forger, but quite possibly might have
assisted her employer to die suddenly. So
on a suitable occasion Olga Seminoff died.
Lesley Ferrier was killed in what is
purported to have been a gang knifing or
a knifing by a jealous woman. But the
knife that was found in the well corre-
381
sponds very closely with the knife wounds
that he suffered. I knew that Olga's body
must be hidden somewhere in this neighbourhood, but I had no idea where until I
heard Miranda one day inquiring about a
wishing well, urging Michael Garfield to
take her there. And he was refusing.
Shortly afterwards when I was talking to
Mrs. Goodbody, I said I wondered where
that girl had disappeared too, and she said "Ding dong dell, pussy's in the well" and
then I was quite sure the girl's body was
in the wishing well. I discovered it was in
the wood, in the Quarry Wood, on an
incline not far from Michael Garfield's
cottage and I thought that Miranda could<
br />
have seen either the actual murder or the
disposal of the body later. Mrs. Drake and
Michael feared that someone had been a
witness--but they had no idea who it was
--and as nothing happened they were
lulled into security. They made their plans
--they were in no hurry, but they set
things in motion. She talked about buying
land abroad--gave people the idea she
wanted to get away from Woodleigh
Common. Too many sad associations, referring always to her grief over her
382
husband's death. Everything was nicely in
train and then came the shock of
Hallowe'en and Joyce's sudden assertion
of having witnessed a murder. So now
Rowena knew, or thought she knew, who
it had been in the wood that day. So she
acted quickly. But there was more to
come. Young Leopold asked for money--
there were things he wanted to buy, he
said. What he guessed or knew is uncertain, but he was Joyce's brother, and so
they probably thought he knew far more
than he really did. And so--he, too, died."
"You suspected her because of the water
clue," said Mrs. Oliver. "How did you
come to suspect Michael Garfield?"
"He fitted," said Poirot simply. "And
then--the last time I spoke to Michael
Garfield, I was sure. He said to me, laughing-- 'Get thee beyond me, Satan.
Go and join your police friends.' And I
knew then, quite certainly. It was the
other way round. I said to myself: t! am
leaving you behind me, Satan,' A Satan
young and beautiful as Lucifer can appear
to mortals ..."
There was another woman in the room
383
—until now she had not spoken, but now
she stirred in her chair.
"Lucifer," she said. "Yes, I see now.
He was always that."
"He was very beautiful," said Poirot,
"and he loved beauty. The beauty that he
made with his brain and his imagination
and his hands. To it he would sacrifice
everything. In his own way, I think, he
loved the child Miranda—but he was
ready to sacrifice her—to save himself. He
planned her death very carefully—he
made of it a ritual and, as one might put
it, indoctrinated her with the idea. She was
to let him know if she were leaving Woodleigh
Common—he instructed her to meet
him at the Inn where you and Mrs. Oliver
lunched. She was to have been found on
Kilterbury Ring—there by the sign of the
double axe, with a golden goblet by her
side—a ritual sacrifice."
"Mad," said Judith Butler. "He must
have been mad."
"Madame, your daughter is safe—but
there is something I would like to know
very much."
"I think you deserve to know anything
I can tell you. Monsieur Poirot."
384
"She is your daughter--was she also
Michael Garfield's daughter^
Judith was silent for a moment, and
then she said: "Yes."
"But she doesn't know that?"
"No. She has no idea. Meeting him here
was a pure coincidence. I knew him when
I was a young girl. I fell wildly in love
with him and then--and then I got
afraid."
"Afraid?"
"Yes. I don't know why. Not of
anything he would do or that sort of thing, just afraid of his nature. His gentleness, but behind it, a coldness and a ruthlessness.
I was even afraid of his passion for
beauty and for creation in his work. I
didn't tell him I was going to have a child.
I left him--I went away and the baby was
born. I invented the story of a pilot
husband who had had a crash. I moved
about rather restlessly. I came to Woodleigh
Common more or less by chance. I
had got contacts in Medchester where I
could find secretarial work.
"And then one day Michael Garfield
came here to work in the Quarry Wood. I
don't think I minded. Nor did he. All that
385
was over long ago, but later, although I
didn't realise how often Miranda went
there to the Wood, I did worry—"
"Yes," said Poirot, "there was a bond
between them. A natural affinity. I saw the
likeness between them—only Michael
Garfield, the follower of Lucifer the
beautiful, was evil, and your daughter has
innocence and wisdom, and there is no evil
in her."
He went over to his desk and brought
back an envelope. Out of it he drew a
delicate pencil drawing.
"Your daughter," he said.
Judith looked at it. It was signed
"Michael Garfield".
"He was drawing her by the stream,"
said Poirot, "in the Quarry Wood. He
drew it, he said, so that he should not
forget. He was afraid of forgetting. It
wouldn't have stopped him killing her,
though."
Then he pointed to be pencilled word
across the top left hand corner.
"Can you read that?"
She spelt it out slowly.
"Iphigenia."
"Yes," said Poirot, "Iphigenia.
386
Agamemnon sacrificed his daughter, so
that he should get a wind to take his ships
to Troy. Michael would have sacrificed his
daughter so that he should have a new
Garden of Eden."
"He knew what he was doing," said
Judith. "I wonder—if he would ever have
had regrets?"
Poirot did not answer. A picture was
forming in his mind of a young man of
singular beauty lying by the megalithic
stone marked with a double axe, and still
clasping in his dead fingers the golden
goblet he had seized and drained when
retribution had come suddenly to save his
victim and to deliver him to justice.
It was so that Michael Garfield had died
—a fitting death, Poirot thought—but,
alas, there would be no garden blossoming
on an island in the Grecian Seas . . .
Instead there would be Miranda—alive
and young and beautiful.
He raised Judith's hand and kissed it.
"Good-bye, Madame, and remember me
to your daughter."
"She ought always to remember you and
what she owes you."
387
"Better not—some memories are better
buried."
He went on to Mrs. Oliver.
"Good night, chere Madame. Lady
Macbeth and Narcissus. It has been
remarkably interesting. I have to thank
you for bringing it to my notice—"
"That's right," said Mrs. Oliver in an
exasperated voice, "blame it all on me as
usual!"
THE END
Books by Agatha Christie
in the Ulverscroft Large Print Series:
A POCKET FULL OF RYE
ORDEAL BY INNOCENCE
CAT
AMONG THE PIGEONS
THE PALE HORSE
4.50 FROM PADDINGTON
MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS
THEY CAME TO BAGHDAD
A MURDER IS ANNOUNCED
MURDER IS EASY
THE MIRROR CRACK'D FROM SIDE TO SIDE
THEY DO IT WITH MIRRORS
CROOKED HOUSE
DEAD MAN'S FOLLY
DEATH IN THE CLOUDS
A CARIBBEAN MYSTERY
THIRD GIRL
AT BERTRAM'S HOTEL
THE HOUND OF DEATH
AFTER THE FUNERAL
THE THIRTEEN PROBLEMS
DESTINATION UNKNOWN
MURDER IN MESOPOTAMIA
THE CLOCKS
CARDS ON THE TABLE
LORD EDGWARE DIES
THE MOVING FINGER
DEATH COMES AS THE END
DEATH ON THE NILE
EVIL UNDER THE SUN
TAKEN AT THE FLOOD
THE BODY IN THE LIBRARY
ENDLESS NIGHT
TOWARDS ZERO
THE MURDER OF ROGER ACKROYD
DUMB WITNESS
ONE, TWO, BUCKLE MY SHOE
THE SITTAFORD MYSTERY
WHY DIDN'T THEY ASK EVANS?
THE BIG FOUR
THE HOLLOW
THREE ACT TRAGEDY
APPOINTMENT WITH DEATH
SAD CYPRESS
THE MYSTERY OF THE BLUE TRAIN
NEMESIS
CURTAIN
THE MURDER ON THE LINKS
THE MYSTERIOUS MR. QUIN
SLEEPING MURDER
THE LABOURS OF HERCULES
PARKER PYNE INVESTIGATES
PERIL AT END HOUSE
SPARKLING CYANIDE
THE MURDER AT THE VICARAGE
THE ABC MURDERS
FIVE LITTLE PIGS
THE SECRET OF CHIMNEYS
THE SEVEN DIALS MYSTERY
THE MAN IN THE BROWN SUIT
NORM?
PASSENGER TO FRANKFURT
MURDER IN THE MEWS
AND THEN THERE WERE NONE
PARTNERS IN CRIME
BY THE PRICKING OF MY THUMBS
HICKORY DICKORY DOCK
HALLOWE'EN PARTY
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY
AgathaChristie-HalloweenParty Page 27
