‘It must have been about that time—yes.’ She reflected a minute.
‘That would fit in,’ said Poirot thoughtfully. ‘You heard nothing else—the opening or shutting of a door, for instance?’
Miss Johnson shook her head.
‘No, I do not remember anything of that kind.’
‘You were sitting at a table, I presume. Which way were you facing? The courtyard? The antika-room? The verandah? Or the open countryside?’
‘I was facing the courtyard.’
‘Could you see the boy Abdullah washing pots from where you were?’
‘Oh, yes, if I looked up, but of course I was very intent on what I was doing. All my attention was on that.’
‘If anyone had passed the courtyard window, though, you would have noticed it?’
‘Oh, yes, I am almost sure of that.’
‘And nobody did so?’
‘No.’
‘But if anyone had walked, say, across the middle of the courtyard, would you have noticed that?’
‘I think—probably not—unless, as I said before, I had happened to look up and out of the window.’
‘You did not notice the boy Abdullah leave his work and go out to join the other servants?’
‘No.’
‘Ten minutes,’ mused Poirot. ‘That fatal ten minutes.’
There was a momentary silence.
Miss Johnson lifted her head suddenly and said: ‘You know, M. Poirot, I think I have unintentionally misled you. On thinking it over, I do not believe that I could possibly have heard any cry uttered in Mrs Leidner’s room from where I was. The antika-room lay between me and her—and I understand her windows were found closed.’
‘In any case, do not distress yourself, mademoiselle,’ said Poirot kindly. ‘It is not really of much importance.’
‘No, of course not. I understand that. But you see, it is of importance to me, because I feel I might have done something.’
‘Don’t distress yourself, dear Anne,’ said Dr Leidner with affection. ‘You must be sensible. What you heard was probably one Arab bawling to another some distance away in the fields.’
Miss Johnson flushed a little at the kindliness of his tone. I even saw tears spring to her eyes. She turned her head away and spoke even more gruffly than usual.
‘Probably was. Usual thing after a tragedy—start imagining things that aren’t so at all.’
Poirot was once more consulting his notebook.
‘I do not suppose there is much more to be said. Mr Carey?’
Richard Carey spoke slowly—in a wooden mechanical manner.
‘I’m afraid I can add nothing helpful. I was on duty at the dig. The news was brought to me there.’
‘And you know or can think of nothing helpful that occurred in the days immediately preceding the murder?’
‘Nothing at all.’
‘Mr Coleman?’
‘I was right out of the whole thing,’ said Mr Coleman with—was it just a shade of regret—in his tone. ‘I went into Hassanieh yesterday morning to get the money for the men’s wages. When I came back Emmott told me what had happened and I went back in the bus to get the police and Dr Reilly.’
‘And beforehand?’
‘Well, sir, things were a bit jumpy—but you know that already. There was the antika-room scare and one or two before that—hands and faces at the window—you remember, sir,’ he appealed to Dr Leidner, who bent his head in assent. ‘I think, you know, that you’ll find some Johnny did get in from outside. Must have been an artful sort of beggar.’
Poirot considered him for a minute or two in silence.
‘You are an Englishman, Mr Coleman?’ he asked at last.
‘That’s right, sir. All British. See the trade-mark. Guaranteed genuine.’
‘This is your first season?’
‘Quite right.’
‘And you are passionately keen on archaeology?’
This description of himself seemed to cause Mr Coleman some embarrassment. He got rather pink and shot the side look of a guilty schoolboy at Dr Leidner.
‘Of course—it’s all very interesting,’ he stammered. ‘I mean—I’m not exactly a brainy chap…’
He broke off rather lamely. Poirot did not insist.
He tapped thoughtfully on the table with the end of his pencil and carefully straightened an inkpot that stood in front of him.
‘It seems then,’ he said, ‘that that is as near as we can get for the moment. If any one of you thinks of something that has for the time being slipped his or her memory, do not hesitate to come to me with it. It will be well now, I think, for me to have a few words alone with Dr Leidner and Dr Reilly.’