“Yes. //there is a murderer in the woodpile—and I think there is, Hastings. Yes, I think there is….”
XIX Visit to Mr. Purvis
poirot called for his bill and paid it.
“What do we do next?” I asked.
“We are going to do what you suggested earlier in the morning. We are going to Harchester to interview Mr. Purvis. That is why I telephoned from the Durham Hotel.” “You telephoned to Purvis?” “No, to Theresa Arundell. I asked her to write me a letter of introduction to him. To approach him with any chance of success we must be accredited by the family. She promised to send it round to my flat by hand. It should be awaiting us there now.” We found not only the letter but Charles Arundell who had brought it round in person.
“Nice place you have here, M. Poirot,” he remarked, glancing round the sittingroom of the flat.
At that moment my eye was caught by an imperfectly shut drawer in the desk. A small slip of paper was preventing it from shutting.
Now if there was one thing absolutely incredible it was that Poirot should shut a drawer in such a fashion! I looked thoughtfully at Charles. He had been alone in this room awaiting our arrival. I had no doubt that he had been passing the time by snooping among Poirot’s papers. What a young crook the fellow was! I felt myself burning with indignation.
Charles himself was in a most cheerful mood.
“Here we are,” he remarked, presenting a letter. “All present and correct–and I hope you’ll have more luck with old Purvis than we did.” “He held out very little hope, I suppose?” “Definitely discouraging…. In his opinion the Lawson bird had clearly got away with the doings.” “You and your sister have never considered an appeal to the lady’s feelings?” Charles grinned.
“I considered it–yes. But there seemed to be nothing doing. My eloquence was in vain. The pathetic picture of the disinherited black sheep–and a sheep not so black as he was painted (or so I endeavoured to suggest)–failed to move the woman! You know, she definitely seems to dislike me! I don’t know why.” He laughed. “Most old women fall for me quite easily. They think I’ve never been properly understood and that I’ve never had a fair chance!” “A useful point of view.” “Oh, it’s been extremely useful before now. But, as I say, with the Lawson bird, nothing doing. I think she’s rather anti-man.
Probably used to chain herself to railings and wave a suffragette flag in good old prewar days.” “Ah, well,” said Poirot, shaking his head.
“If simpler methods fail–” “We must take to crime,” said Charles cheerfully.
“Aha,” said Poirot. “Now, speaking of crime, young man, is it true that you threatened your aunt–that you said that you would ‘bump her off,’ or words to that effect?”
Charles sat down in a chair, stretched his legs out in front of him and stared hard at Poirot.
“Now who told you that?” he said.
“No matter. Is it true?” “Well, there are elements of truth about it.
“Come, come, let me hear the true story –the true story, mind.” “Oh, you can have it, sir. There was nothing melodramatic about it. I’d been attempting a touch–if you gather what I mean.” “I comprehend.” “Well, that didn’t go according to plan.
Aunt Emily intimated that any efforts to separate her and her money would be quite unavailing!
Well, I didn’t lose my temper, but I put it to her plainly. ‘Now look here. Aunt Emily,’ I said, ‘you know, you’re going about things in such a way that you’ll end by getting bumped off!’ She said, rather sniffily, what did I mean. ‘Just that,’ I said.
‘Here are your friends and relations all hanging around with their mouths open, all as poor as church mice–whatever church mice may be–all hoping. And what do you do?
Sit down on the dibs and refuse to part.
That’s the way people get themselves murdered.
Take it from me, if you’re bumped off, you’ll only have yourself to blame.’ “She looked at me then, over the top of her spectacles in a way she had. Looked at me rather nastily. ‘Oh,’ she said drily enough, ‘so that’s your opinion, is it?’ ‘It is,’ I said. ‘You loosen up a bit, that’s my advice to you.’ ‘Thank you, Charles,’ she said, ‘for your well-meant advice. But I think you’ll find I’m well able to take care of myself.5 Tiease yourself. Aunt Emily,’ I said. I was grinning all over my face—and I fancy she wasn’t as grim as she tried to look. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ ‘I’ll remember it,’ she said.” He paused.