She was also, as he had said, a little like an earwig.
“That is your only child, madame?” “No, I have a little boy also. He is out with his father at the moment.” “They did not accompany you to Littlegreen House on your visits?” “Oh, yes, sometimes, but you see, my aunt was rather old and children were in- i dined to worry her. But she was very kind j and always sent them out nice presents at Christmas.” “Let me see, when did you last see Miss Emily Arundell?” “I think it was just about ten days before she died.” “You and your husband and your two cousins were all down there together, were you not?” “Oh, no, that was the week-end before– at Easter.” “And you and your husband were down there the week-end after Easter as well?” “Yes.” “And Miss Arundell was in good health and spirits then?” “Yes, she seemed much as usual.” “She was not ill in bed?” “She was laid up with a fall she had had, but she came downstairs again while we were there.” “Did she say anything to you about having made a new will?” “No, nothing at all.” “And her manner to you was quite unchanged?”
A slightly longer pause this time before Mrs. Tanios said: “Yes.” I feel sure that at that moment Poirot and I had the same conviction.
Mrs. Tanios was lying!
Poirot paused a minute and then said: “Perhaps I should explain that when I asked if Miss ArundelFs manner to you was unchanged, I was not using the ‘you5 plural.
I referred to you personally.” Mrs. Tanios replied quickly: “Oh! I see. Aunt Emily was very nice to me. She gave me a little pearl and diamond brooch and she sent ten shillings to each of the children.” There was no constraint in her manner now. The words came freely with a rush.
“And as regards your husband–was there no change in her manner to him?” The constraint had returned. Mrs. Tanios did not meet Poirot5 s eye as she replied: “No, of course not–why should there be?” “But since you suggest that your cousin Theresa Arundell might have tried to poison your aunt’s mind–” “She did! I’m sure she did!” Mrs. Tanios leant forward eagerly. “You are quite right.
There was a change! Aunt Emily was suddenly far more distant to him. And she behaved very oddly. There was a special digestive mixture he recommended–even went to the trouble of getting her some– going to the druggist and having it made up.
She thanked him and all that–but rather stiffly? and later I actually saw her pouring the bottle down the sink!” Her indignation was quite fierce.
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.