“How do I know? You may be on his side.” “I am on no one’s side, madame. I am— always–on the side of the truth.” “I don’t know,” said Mrs. Tanios hopelessly.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She went on, her words gathering volume, tumbling over each other.
“It’s been so awful–for years now. I’ve seen things happening again and again. And I couldn’t say anything or do anything.
There have been the children. It’s been like a long nightmare. And now this…. But I won’t go back to him. I won’t let him have the children! I’ll go somewhere where he can’t find me. Mina Lawson will help me.
She’s been so kind–so wonderfully kind.
Nobody could have been kinder.” She stopped, then shot a quick look at Poirot and asked: “What did he say about me? Did he say I had delusions?” “He said, madame, that you had– changed towards him.” She nodded.
“And he said I had delusions. He did say that, didn’t he?” “Yes, madame, to be frank, he did.” “That’s it, you see. That’s what it will sound like. And I’ve no proof–no real proof.” Poirot leaned back in his chair. When he next spoke it was with an entire change of manner.
He spoke in a matter-of-fact, businesslike voice with as little emotion as if he had been discussing some dry matter of business.
“Do you suspect your husband of doing away with Miss Emily Arundell?” Her answer came quickly–a spontaneous flash.
“I don’t suspect–I know.” “Then, madame, it is your duty to speak.” “Ah, but it isn’t so easy–no, it isn’t so easy.” “How did he kill her?” “I don’t know exactly–but he did kill her.” “But you don’t know the method he employed?”
“No–it was something–something he did that last Sunday.” “The Sunday he went down to see her?” “Yes.” “But you don’t know what it was?” “No.” “Then how, forgive me, madame, can you be so sure?” “Because he–” She stopped and said slowly, “I am sure!” “Pardon, madame, but there is something you are keeping back. Something you have not yet told me?” “Yes.” “Come, then.” Bella Tanios got up suddenly.
“No. No. I can’t do that. The children.
Their father. I can’t. I simply can’t….” “But, madame–” “I can’t, I tell you.” Her voice rose almost to a scream. The door opened and Miss Lawson came in, her head cocked on one side with a sort of pleasurable excitement.
“May I come in? Have you had your little talk? Bella, my dear, don’t you think you ought to have a cup of tea, or some soup, or perhaps a little brandy even?” Mrs. Tanios shook her head.
“I’m quite all right.” She gave a weak smile. “I must be getting back to the children.
I have left them to unpack.” “Dear little things,” said Miss Lawson.
“I’m so fond of children.” Mrs. Tanios turned to her suddenly.
“I don’t know what I should do without you,” she said. “You–you’ve been wonderfully kind.” “There, there, my dear, don’t cry. Everything’s going to be all right. You shall come round and see my lawyer–such a nice man, so sympathetic, and he’ll advise you the best way to get a divorce. Divorce is so simple nowadays, isn’t it, everybody says so. Oh, dear, there’s the bell. I wonder who that is.” She left the room hurriedly. There was a murmur of voices in the hall. Miss Lawson reappeared. She tiptoed in and shut the door carefully behind her. She spoke in an excited whisper, mouthing the words exaggeratedly.
“Oh, dear, Bella, it’s your husband. I’m sure I don’t know–” Mrs. Tanios gave one bound towards a door at the other end of the room. Miss Lawson nodded her head violently.
“That’s right, dear, go in there, and then you can slip out when I’ve brought him in here.” Mrs. Tanios whispered: “Don’t say I’ve been here. Don’t say you’ve seen me.” “No, no, of course I won’t.” Mrs. Tanios slipped through the door.
Poirot and I followed hastily. We found ourselves in a small dining-room.
Poirot crossed to the door into the hall? opened it a crack and listened. Then he beckoned.
“All is clear. Miss Lawson has taken him into the other room.” We crept through the hall and out by the front door. Poirot drew it to as noiselessly as possible after him.