Chapter 24 Chapter 23 Doctor Tanios Visits Us

No sooner had we left the Little Green House than Poirot's attitude changed.His face became stern and rigid. "Depechons nous (French: Let's hurry.), Hastings," he said, "we must return to London as soon as possible." "I'd love to," I quickened my pace, walking alongside him.I stole a glance at his sullen face. "Who do you suspect, Poirot?" I asked. "I wish you would tell me. Do you believe it was Theresa Arundell kneeling on the stairs, or do you not believe it was her?" Poirot did not answer my question.Instead, he asked me a question:

"Have you ever had the impression—you think about it before answering—that there was something wrong in Miss Lawson's conversation?" "What do you mean—what's wrong?" "If I knew, I wouldn't ask you!" "Yes, but how do you feel wrong?" "That's the problem. I can't be sure. But when she was talking, I somehow felt that she wasn't telling the truth... as if there was something slightly wrong with what she was saying - that's how I felt - I I feel like there are some things that are impossible…” "As if she must have thought it was Theresa!"

"Yes Yes." "The electric light wasn't very good either. I don't see how she can be so sure." "No, no, Hastings, you didn't do me any favors. A tiny point—I'm sure—in connection with the bedroom." "Related to the bedroom?" I repeated, trying to recall the details of the bedroom. "No," I said finally, "I can't help you." Poirot shook his head distressedly. "Why did you bring up that spiritualism thing again?" I asked. "Because it matters." "What's the point? Is what Miss Lawson said about the shiny 'streamer' important?"

"Do you remember Sister Tripp's description of the party?" "I know they saw a halo around the old lady's head," I couldn't help laughing. "Anyway, I don't think Miss Arundell is a saint! Miss Lawson seems to have frightened her. She I felt so sorry for her when she told about lying in bed unable to sleep, worried as hell because she might be punished for ordering too little beef." "Yes, she spoke very interestingly and touchingly." We went into George's Inn, and when Poirot asked for the bill to pay, I asked Poirot: "What will we do when we get to London?"

"We must see Theresa Arundell at once." "To find out the truth? But will she resist all this?" "Mon cher (French: my dear.), it's not illegal to kneel on the stairs! Maybe she happened to be picking up a brooch—or something." "Then what explains the smell of paint?" At this time the waiter brought the bill, and we stopped talking. We spoke very little on the way back to London.I didn't like talking in the car, and Poirot was busy protecting his beard from the wind with his scarf, so he couldn't talk at all. At about forty one, we returned to our residence.

The door was opened for us by George, Poirot's English valet who never made a mistake. "A man named Dr. Tanios is waiting to see you, sir. He's been waiting for half an hour." "Dr. Tanios? Where is he?" "He's in the drawing room, sir. A woman has also been here to see you. She was upset to learn you weren't home. That was before I got your call, sir, so I can't tell her when you Back to London." "Tell me about that woman." "She is about five feet tall, sir, with black hair and light blue eyes. She wears a gray coat and skirt, with a hat set back rather off-puttingly."

"It's Mrs. Tanios," I whispered suddenly. "She was very nervous and agitated. She said she had to find you quickly, and she said it was extremely important." "What time was that?" "About ten-thirty, sir." Poirot shook his head as he walked towards the drawing room. "This is the second time we've lost our chance of hearing what Mrs. Tanios had to say. What do you say, Hastings? Is it fate?" "You'll be lucky the third time," I reassured him. Poirot shook his head suspiciously. "Will there be a third time? I doubt it. Come, let us hear what her husband has to say."

Dr. Tanios was sitting in an easy chair, leafing through a book by Poirot on psychology.He jumped up to welcome us. "You will forgive me for disturbing you. I hope you don't mind my forced intrusion. Wait for you here." "Du tout, du tout (French: not at all, not at all.), please sit down. I'll pour you a glass of sherry." "Thank you. I have one thing, M. Poirot. I'm worried. I'm very worried about my wife." "For your wife? I'm sorry. What's the matter?" Tanios said, "You may have seen her, just now?" It seemed like a natural question, but the quick glance that accompanied it was not.

Poirot answered matter-of-factly: "No, I haven't seen her since I saw you and her in the hotel yesterday." "Oh—I thought she might have called on you." Poirot was busy pouring sherry for the three of us. He said absently: "No. Was there any—reason for her to see me?" "No, no." Dr. Tanios took the sherry glass. "Thank you. Thank you very much. No, there is no particular reason, but frankly, I am very concerned about my wife's health." "Ah, isn't she in good health?" "Her body," Tanios said slowly, "is fine. I hope her mind is healthy, too."

"Oh?" "M. Poirot, I'm afraid she's on the verge of a nervous breakdown." "My dear Dr. Tanios, I am very sorry to hear you say that." "She's been like this for a while. In the last two months, her attitude towards me has completely changed. She's restless, easily startled, and she has strange fantasies - not just fantasies actually - — is delusional." "real?" "Yes. She has a form of madness commonly called the depressive type--it's a well-known disease." Poirot made a sympathetic sound with his tongue.

"You can understand my worry!" "Naturally, naturally. But what I don't quite understand is why you came to me. How can I help?" Dr. Tanios, looking a little embarrassed, said: "It occurred to me that my wife might—or might—come to you to tell something extraordinary. I thought she might say that she was in danger I put her—say something like that. .” "But why did she come to me?" Dr. Tanios smiled—a charming smile—kindly but thoughtfully. "You are a famous detective, M. Poirot. I can see--I saw it at a glance--my wife was impressed with you yesterday. In her present situation, it would give her a chance to see a detective. Make a strong impression. I think she's likely to come to you—and—she trusts you. These neurotics would do that! She'll speak ill of those closest and closest to you.” "It's really distressing." "Yes, indeed. I love my wife very much." His voice was rich with tender emotion. “I always thought it was brave of her to marry me—to marry someone of another race—to go to a country far away—to leave all her friends and her familiar surroundings. God, I've been in a state of confusion... I see there's only one way..." "any solution?" "Tell her to be completely rested and quiet - that's the kind of psychotherapy that suits her. I know a nice place, a lodging run by gentlemen. I want to take her there - it's in Norfolk — we'll be going right away. Complete rest and isolation from outside influences — that's what she needs. I'm sure she'll get better once she's been there for a month or two, with careful treatment.” "I see," said Poirot. He said these words flatly, without revealing the excitement surging in his heart at all. Tanios gave him another sharp look and said: "So, if she comes to you, I would be very grateful if you would let me know in time." "Of course I will. I'll call you. Are you still staying at the Durham Hotel?" "Yes. I'm going back there now." "Isn't your wife there?" "She went out after breakfast." "Didn't I tell you where she was going?" "She didn't say anything, which is uncharacteristic." "Where are the children?" "She took it." "I see." Tanios stood up and said: "Thank you very much, M. Poirot. If she tells you nonsense about her being threatened and persecuted and so on, please ignore her. It is a disease of hers, unfortunately." "It's very distressing," said Poirot sympathetically. "It's really distressing. Although medically, people know that this is a recognized mental illness, but when your relatives oppose you and like it turns into disgust, why don't you feel sad?" "I express my deepest sympathy to you," said Poirot, shaking hands with his guest. "By the way..." Poirot stopped Tanios just as he reached the door. "What's up?" "Did you ever prescribe a hypnotic drug for your wife?" Tanios was taken aback. "I—didn't—maybe I used to. But not recently. Now she seems to have an aversion to sleeping pills of all kinds." "Oh! I suppose it's because she doesn't trust you?" "Monsieur Poirot!" Tanios strode forward angrily. "That is due to her illness," said Poirot flatteringly. Tanios stopped and said: "Yes, yes, of course." "She may be very suspicious of what you give her to eat and drink. Do you suspect that you want to poison her?" "My God, M. Poirot, you are quite right. Do you know something about this disease, then?" "In my profession, such cases often come naturally. But don't let me detain you. You may find her waiting for you at the hotel." "Really, I hope so. I'm feeling too worried right now." He hurried out of the house. Poirot quickly walked to the telephone, flipped through the phone book hastily, and asked for a number: "Hello—hello—is it the Durham Hotel? Can you tell me Mrs. Tanios is still at the hotel? What? It's called Tanios. Yes, yes. What? She's gone? Oh, I see..." He put the headphones back on.Say: "Mrs. Tanios left the hotel early this morning. Came back at eleven o'clock, sat in a taxi, and someone carried her luggage downstairs, and the car took it away." "Does Mr. Tanios know that she took all her luggage?" "I don't think he knows it yet." "Where has she been?" "It's impossible to know." "Do you think she will come here again?" "Possibly. But I can't say." "Perhaps she will write." "possible." "What can we do?" Poirot shook his head.He looked worried and depressed. "There's nothing we can do now. Quick lunch and see Theresa Arundell." "Do you believe it was she who was kneeling on the stairs?" "No comment. But I'm sure of one thing—Miss Lawson didn't see her face. She saw a tall figure in a black morning coat, and that's all she saw." "She also saw the brooch." "My dear friend, the brooch is not part of the body! It is separable from the body. It can be lost—or borrowed—even stolen." "In other words, you don't want to believe that Theresa Arundel committed the crime." "I want to hear what she has to say about it." "What if Mrs. Tanios comes back?" "I'll arrange it." George brought the omelet. "Listen, George," said Poirot, "if the woman comes back here again, tell her to wait. If Dr. Tanios comes, and she is waiting here, don't let him in anyway. If He asked if his wife was here, and you told him no. Got it?" "Understood, sir." Poirot ate the omelet. "It's complicated," he said. "We have to be very careful every step of the way. A little carelessness and the murderer will do it again." "If he commits a crime, you will catch him." "He's likely to be caught. But I'm prioritizing innocent lives over criminals' convictions. So we should proceed very, very carefully."