I looked at Poirot sideways. He is so confoundedly slippery.
“Miss Peabody expressed the opinion that there was ‘hanky-panky’ about the will,” I said. “What do you suppose she meant by that?” “It was, I think, her way of expressing various nebulous and unformulated suspicions.”
“Undue influence, it seems, can be washed out,” I said thoughtfully. “And it certainly looks as though Emily Arundell was much too sensible to believe in any tomfoolery like spiritualism.” “What makes you say that spiritualism is tomfoolery, Hastings?” I stared at him in astonishment.
“My dear Poirot–those appalling women–”
He smiled.
“I quite agree with your estimate of the Misses Tripp. But the mere fact that the Misses Tripp have adopted with enthusiasm Christian Science, vegetarianism, theosophy and spiritualism does not really constitute a damning indictment of those subjects! Because a foolish woman will tell you a lot of nonsense about a fake scarab which she has bought from a rascally dealer, that does not necessarily bring discredit on the general subject of Egyptology!” “Do you mean you believe in spiritualism, Poirot?” “I have an open mind on the subject. I have never studied any of its manifestations myself, but it must be accepted that many men of science and learning have pronounced themselves satisfied that there are phenomena which cannot be accounted for by–shall we say the credulity of a Miss Trinn^ “Then you believe in this rigmarole of an aureole of light surrounding Miss ArundelFs head?” Poirot waved a hand.
“I was speaking generally–rebuking your attitude of quite unreasoning scepticism.
I may say that, having formed a certain opinion of Miss Tripp and her sister, I should examine very carefully any fact they presented for my notice. Foolish women, mon ami, are foolish women, whether they are talking about spiritualism or politics or the relation of the sexes or the tenets of the Buddhist faith.” “Yet you listened to what they had to say very carefully.” “That has been my task to-day–to listen.
To hear what every one has got to tell me about these seven people–and mainly, of course, the five people primarily concerned.
Already we know certain aspects of these people. Take Miss Lawson. From the Misses Tripp we learn she was devoted, unselfish, unworldly and altogether a beautiful character.
From Miss Peabody we learn that she was credulous, stupid, without the nerve or the brains to attempt anything criminal.
From Dr. Grainger we learn that she was downtrodden, that her position was precar- ious, and that she was a poor ‘frightened, fluttering hen,5 were, I think, the words he Jj used. From our waiter we learned that Miss 11 Lawson was ‘a person,5 and from Ellen that Bob, the dog, despised her! Every one, you | see, saw her from a slightly different angle. ; That is the same with the others. Nobody’s opinion of Charles ArundelFs morals seems to have been high, but nevertheless they vary in their manner of speaking of him. Dr.
Grainger calls him indulgently ‘an irreverent young devil.5 Miss Peabody says he would murder his grandmother for twopence but clearly prefers a rascal to a ‘stick.5 Miss Tripp hints not only that he would do a criminal action but that he has done one–or more. These sidelights are all very useful and interesting. They lead to the next thing.” “Which is?” “To see for ourselves, my friend.”
XIII Theresa Arundell
on the following morning we made our way to the address given us by Dr. Donaldson.
I suggested to Poirot that a visit to the lawyer, Mr. Purvis, might be a good thing, but Poirot negatived the idea strongly.
“No, indeed, my friend. What could we say–what reason could we advance for seeking information?” “You’re usually pretty ready with reasons, Poirot! Any old lie would do, wouldn’t it?” “On the contrary, my friend, ‘any old lie,5 as you put it, would not do. Not with a lawyer. We should be–how do you say it?
–thrown out with the flea upon the ear.” “Oh, well,” I said. “Don’t let us risk that!” So, as I have said, we set out for the flat occupied by Theresa Arundell.
The flat in question was situated in a block at Chelsea overlooking the river. It was furnished expensively in the modern style, with gleaming chromium and thick rugs with geometric designs upon them.