The Mystery of the Spanish Chest by Agatha Christie

Author:Agatha Christie [Christie, Agatha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Traditional British
ISBN: 9780062129628
Google: rc_lHPq3MhcC
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2011-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

The Spences lived in a minute house in Chelsea.

Linda Spence received Poirot with the utmost delight.

‘Do tell me,’ she said. ‘Tell me all about Margharita! Where is she?’

‘That I am not at liberty to state, Madame.’

‘She has hidden herself well! Margharita is very clever at that sort of thing. But she’ll be called to give evidence at the trial, I suppose? She can’t wiggle herself out of that.’

Poirot looked at her appraisingly. He decided grudgingly that she was attractive in the modern style (which at that moment resembled an underfed orphan child). It was not a type he admired. The artistically disordered hair fluffed out round her head, a pair of shrewd eyes watched him from a slightly dirty face devoid of make-up save for a vivid cerise mouth. She wore an enormous pale-yellow sweater hanging almost to her knees, and tight black trousers.

‘What’s your part in all this?’ demanded Mrs Spence. ‘Get the boyfriend out of it somehow? Is that it? What a hope!’

‘You think then, that he is guilty?’

‘Of course. Who else?’

That, Poirot thought, was very much the question. He parried it by asking another question.

‘What did Major Rich seem to you like on that fatal evening? As usual? Or not as usual?’

Linda Spence screwed up her eyes judicially.

‘No, he wasn’t himself. He was – different.’

‘How, different?’

‘Well, surely, if you’ve just stabbed a man in cold blood –’

‘But you were not aware at the time that he had just stabbed a man in cold blood, were you?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘So how did you account for his being “different”. In what way?’

‘Well – distrait. Oh, I don’t know. But thinking it over afterwards I decided that there had definitely been something.’

Poirot sighed.

‘Who arrived first?’

‘We did, Jim and I. And then Jock. And finally Margharita.’

‘When was Mr Clayton’s departure for Scotland first mentioned?’

‘When Margharita came. She said to Charles: “Arnold’s terribly sorry. He’s had to rush off to Edinburgh by the night train.” And Charles said: “Oh, that’s too bad.” And then Jock said: “Sorry. Thought you already knew.” And then we had drinks.’

‘Major Rich at no time mentioned seeing Mr Clayton that evening? He said nothing of his having called in on his way to the station?’

‘Not that I heard.’

‘It was strange, was it not,’ said Poirot, ‘about that telegram?’

‘What was strange?’

‘It was a fake. Nobody in Edinburgh knows anything about it.’

‘So that’s it. I wondered at the time.’

‘You have an idea about the telegram?’

‘I should say it rather leaps to the eye.’

‘How do you mean exactly?’

‘My dear man,’ said Linda. ‘Don’t play the innocent. Unknown hoaxer gets the husband out of the way! For that night, at all events, the coast is clear.’

‘You mean that Major Rich and Mrs Clayton planned to spend the night together.’

‘You have heard of such things, haven’t you?’ Linda looked amused.

‘And the telegram was sent by one or the other of them?’

‘It wouldn’t surprise me.’

‘Major Rich and Mrs Clayton were having an affair together you think?’

‘Let’s say I shouldn’t be surprised if they were.

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