The Hollow by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-06-27T08:54:48.595000+00:00

"I've put a man on to make inquiries at Harley Street," he went on, "and I shall be there myself later in the day. We ought to get something there. Daresay, you know, that wife of Christow's had a good bit to put up with. Some of these fashionable doctors and their lady patients - well, you'd be surprised! And I gather from Lady Angkatell that there was some trouble over a hospital nurse. Of course, she was very vague about it."

Poirot agreed. "She would be vague..."

Yes, a skilfull built up picture... John Christow and amorous intrigues with hospital nurses... the opportunities of a doctor's life... plenty of reasons for Gerda Christow's jealousy which had culminated at last in murder...

Yes, a skilfully suggested picture... drawing attention to a Harley Street background - away from The Hollow - away from the moment when Henrietta Savernake, stepping forward, had taken the revolver from Gerda Christow's unresisting hand... away from that other moment when John Christow, dying, had said Henrietta...

Suddenly opening his eyes, which had been half closed, Hercule Poirot demanded with irresistible curiosity:

"Do your boys play with Meccano?"

"Eh, what?" Inspector Grange came back from a frowning reverie to stare at Poirot. "Why, what on earth? As a matter of fact, they're a bit young - but I was thinking of giving Teddy a Meccano set for Christmas. What made you ask?"

Poirot shook his head.

What made Lady Angkatell dangerous, he thought, was the fact that those intuitive wild guesses of hers might often be right... With a careless (seemingly careless) word she built up a picture - and if part of the picture was right, wouldn't you, in spite of yourself, believe in the other half of the picture...

Inspector Grange was speaking.

"There's a point I want to put to you, M. Poirot. This Miss Cray, the actress - she traipses over here borrowing matches. If she wanted to borrow matches why didn't she come to your place only a step or two away? Why come about half a mile?"

Hercule Poirot shrugged his shoulders.

"There might be reasons. Snob reasons, shall we say? My little cottage, it is small, unimportant. I am only a weekender but Sir Henry and Lady Angkatell are important - they live here - they are what is called gentry in the county. This Miss Veronica Cray, she may have wanted to get to know them - and after all, this was a way."

Inspector Grange got up.

"Yes," he said, "that's perfectly possible, of course, but one doesn't want to overlook anything. Still, I've no doubt that everything's going to be plain sailing. Sir Henry has identified the gun as one of his collection. It seems they were actually practising with it the afternoon before. All Mrs. Christow had to do was to go into the study and get it from where she'd seen Sir Henry put it and the ammunition away. It's all quite simple."

"Yes," Poirot murmured. "It seems all quite simple."

Just so, he thought, would a woman like Gerda Christow commit a crime.

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