Hercule Poirot's Silent Night by Sophie Hannah

Author:Sophie Hannah [Hannah, Sophie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Crime, Historical
ISBN: 9780062991638
Amazon: 0062991639
Barnesnoble: 0062991639
Goodreads: 70240437
Publisher: William Morrow
Published: 2023-10-24T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

The Tree in the Library

I was making good progress with the Christmas tree in the library when Terence Surtees appeared. “No Maddie or Douglas to help you?” he enquired.

“No.”

“What about your friend Poirot?”

“No. He will be with Inspector Mackle for most of the day, I expect.”

“I see.” Surtees was staring at the tree. “Is that the right position for those paper snowflakes?”

“I think so, yes. But that will not become apparent for some time.”

“They do not look like individual flakes. The impression, rather, is one of a flower with snowflakes for petals.”

“That is deliberate,” I told him. “It will look impressive, once I have finished.” Rather than asking what he wanted, I described what I was hoping to achieve with my snowflake-flower idea.

It took him less than ten seconds to interrupt me. “I have sought you out only to apologize,” he said. “It must have appeared rude when I left the dining room so quickly, without so much as a goodbye. I overheard something that was not intended for my ears, and quickly realized I had been misled.”

“By whom?”

“Our dear host and master,” Surtees said in a hard voice. “Arnold. I ran into him earlier, and he told me . . . Dash it all, he has done it to me again! I was a fool to believe him then, and today I am a fool once more. Well, this is the last time.”

I moved a bauble on the tree. “Do you think this looks better over here?”

“He told me the children were all helping you to decorate Christmas trees together—hurried over to tell me, as if it was cause for great celebration. When I came to witness the joyous spectacle with my own eyes, what did I find? Only one of my daughters describing the other as ‘vile’ to a police inspector she met just yesterday.”

“I am sorry you had to hear it,” I said.

“The animosity between Maddie and Janet has robbed Enid and me of every last shred of our happiness,” Surtees said. “Enid has all but given up. Her hair is falling out from the misery. It is more painful than words can describe to compare what she is now to the woman she used to be.” He ran his hands through his own hair, rearranging the lion’s mane. Lowering his voice, and with a quick glance over his shoulder in the direction of the door, he said, “I don’t even mind about grandchildren. I could be perfectly happy without them, if only Maddie and Janet would resolve their differences. Enid thought that if we came to live here, in the middle of the girls’ battleground, they would feel compelled to do something to improve matters. Well, it has not happened yet, and we have been here seven months—keeping ourselves wretchedly busy in the kitchen and the garden, and not getting paid a penny.”

“It is an unusual arrangement,” I said.

“Of course, we get our food and lodging, and we are able to see our daughters every day.

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