Chapter 2 Chapter 2 Three is three, four is four, the gate of the deep palace is closed tightly

At a quarter to three, the phone rang.After a fine lunch, Hercule Poirot was sitting comfortably in a comfortable chair to digest.When the phone rang, he didn't move, waiting for the faithful George to answer the phone. "Eh bien (French: hello)", George continued, "just a moment, sir", lowering the receiver. "Sir, Inspector Japp." "Aha!" Poirot picked up the receiver. "Eh bien, mon vieux (French: hello, my old friend)," he said, "how are you doing?" "And you, Poirot?" "I'm fine." "I heard you went to the dentist this morning, is that true?"

Poirot muttered: "Scotland Yard really knows everything." "Surname Morley, address 58 Queen Charlotte Street?" "Yes," said Poirot in a changed voice, "what's the matter?" "Just to see a doctor? Not to cheer him up or something?" "Of course not. If you want to know, let me tell you, I went to fill three teeth." "What do you think of him—is he as usual?" "I should say yes. What's the matter?" Japp's voice was stiff and emotionless. "Not long after, he shot himself." "what?"

Japp asked sensitively, "You're surprised?" "Frankly, yes." Japp said, "I don't really like this kind of thing. I want to talk to you. Do you think you can come?" "Where are you?" "Queen Charlotte Street." Poirot replied: "I'll be there in a moment." It was a police officer who opened the door of Room 58.He asked respectfully: "M. Poirot?" "Yes, it's me." "The Inspector is upstairs. The second floor—you know that?" "I was there this morning," said Hercule Poirot.

There are three people in the room.Japp looked up as Poirot entered. He said: "Nice to meet you, Poirot. We are just taking him away. Want to see him first?" A man kneeling next to the body with a camera stood up. Poirot stepped forward.The body lay by the fireplace. Mr. Morley looked much the same as he had in life.Just below his right temple was a small blackened hole.A small pistol lay on the floor beside his outstretched right hand. Poirot shook his head slightly. Japp said, "All right, you can move him now." They carried Mr Morley away.Japp and Poirot were left alone.

Japp said, "We did everything we had to do, like fingerprints and all." Poirot sat down. "Tell me about it." Japp pouted, "He probably killed himself. Maybe he actually shot it himself. Only his fingerprints on the gun—but I'm not satisfied." "What's your reason?" "First of all, there's no apparent reason for his suicide—he's in good health, he's making a lot of money, nobody's ever heard of his worries. He's not involved with any woman—at least," said Japp cautiously. Amended a bit, "So far, we know he doesn't. He has never shown signs of fretfulness, pessimism, or self-abnegation. That's partly why I'm eager to hear your opinion. You just saw him this morning, I was wondering if you noticed anything."

Poirot shook his head. "Not at all. He's—how should I put it?—perfectly normal." "That's weird, isn't it? Besides, it's impossible to imagine a person shooting himself while he's at work. Why not wait until night? That's much more reasonable." Poirot agreed. "When did this tragedy happen?" "It's hard to say. No one heard the gunshot. I don't think anyone heard it. There are two doors from here to the hallway, and there's a countertop around the door--I guess it's to keep it out of the operating chair." the voices of the suffering sick above."

"Very likely. Even anesthetized patients sometimes scream very loudly." "That's right. Coupled with the traffic on the street, you shouldn't be able to hear the gunfire from outside the room." "When was the body found?" "About one-thirty or so--alfred Biggs the footman. He's a bit of a jerk, by all accounts. Like one of Molly's appointments at half-past twelve because he got impatient. And there was a quarrel. At ten past one, the footman came upstairs and knocked at the door. There was no answer, and he obviously dared not go in. He had been scolded several times by Mr. Morley, and he was afraid of doing the wrong thing again. So he went down again downstairs, the patient left in a huff at 1:15. It's not her fault, she waited for forty-five minutes, and she should have gone to lunch long ago."

"what is her name?" Japp grinned. "The footman says it's Miss Hildy—but the appointment book says her name is Miss Kirby." "What method is used here to get patients upstairs to see a doctor?" "When Molly is ready to receive the next patient, he will ring the buzzer over there, and the page will lead the patient up." "When was the last time Molly hit the buzzer?" "At five past twelve the footman brought up the waiting patient. Mr. Amberiozzi of the Savoy Hotel, from the appointment book." A smile played on Poirot's lips, and he muttered: "I don't know what our footman has done with the name now!"

"It's a complete mish-mash, as I say. We can ask him now, if we want to amuse ourselves." Poirot asked: "When did that Mr. Amberiozzi leave?" "The page didn't see him out, so he didn't know. A lot of patients like to go downstairs without calling the elevator, and then leave." Poirot nodded. Japp went on: "But I called up to the Savoy Hotel. Mr. Amberiozzi, being very precise, said he looked at his watch as he came out and closed the front door, and it was twelve twenty-five." Minute." "Has he failed to give you any important information?"

"No, he just said the doctor looked normal and calm." "Eh bien (French: Hey)," said Poirot, "seems clear. It happened between twelve twenty-five and one-thirty—and probably closer to the previous one." "It is. Because otherwise—" "Otherwise he'd be ringing the buzzer for the next patient." "Yes, true or not, the medical evidence supports that judgment. The coroner did the autopsy - at two twenty. He refused to make - as everyone does now - what is called too subjective a judgment. But He said it couldn't have been after one o'clock that Molly had been shot—perhaps much earlier. But he didn't want to put an exact date on it."

Poirot said thoughtfully: "Then, at twenty-five past twelve, our doctor was a normal doctor, full of spirits, suave, and comfortable in his work. And after that? He became discouraged." —in agony—whatever you want—and shot himself.” "It was fun," said Japp. "It was fun, you gotta admit." "Fun," said Poirot, "that's not the right word." "I know it's not--I slipped my tongue. I'll just say it's weird if you like it." "Is the pistol his own?" "No. He didn't have a pistol. Never. Her sister said there was never such a thing in the house. Most people don't have one in their house. Of course, if he was determined to kill himself, he might buy one. To That's true, and we'll find out soon." Poirot asked again: "Is there anything else that you find unsatisfactory?" Japp wiped his nose. "Well, there's also the way he's laying. Not saying it's impossible to fall down like that--but there's something wrong with that position! And there's only a mark or two on the carpet--like it's been dragged by something .” "That was a clear revelation." "Yeah, unless it was the damn footman who did it. I had a hunch he might have tried to move Molly when he spotted him. He denied it, of course, but he was freaking out at the time. He's one of those little Fool, the kind who makes mistakes and gets scolded all the time, so he's learned to lie almost instinctively." Poirot surveyed the room thoughtfully.His eyes stayed on the washbasin by the wall behind the door, the tall file cabinet on the other side of the door, the operating chair and the instruments placed in front of the window, moved to the fireplace, and then returned to the place where the corpse lay; There is also a door in the fireplace wall. Japp followed his gaze. "It just leads to a small office."He opened the door. As he said, a small room with a writing desk, a tea table with alcohol lamp and tea set, and some chairs.There are no other doors. "His secretary works here," Japp explained. "Miss Neville, she doesn't seem to be here today." His eyes met Poirot's. The latter said: "I remember he told me. This is again - maybe a piece of evidence that he did not commit suicide". "Are you saying she was sent away?" Jep paused, then said: "If he didn't kill himself, he was murdered. Why? The latter conclusion doesn't seem any more plausible than the first. He's a quiet, peaceful fellow. Will Who wants to kill him?" Poirot corrected him: "Who killed him?" Japp said: "The answer is—anyone! His sister could come down from their quarters upstairs and kill him, and one of his servants could come in and kill him. Riley, his partner, could kill him. The footman Al Fred could have killed him, or some patient could have killed him," he added after a pause, "it could have been Amberiozzi--easily him." Poirot nodded. "If that's the case—we've got to find out why." "Exactly. You're back to the old question. Why? Amberiozzi's staying at the Savoy Hotel. Why would a rich Greek come and kill a dentist who doesn't care about the world? There's one thing." What will stand in our way is the motivation!" Poirot shrugged his shoulders: "It seems that the Grim Reaper has no artistic talent, and it has picked the wrong target. Mysterious Greeks, wealthy bankers, famous detectives—how reasonable it would be for one of them to be shot! Because mysterious foreigners can be involved in espionage, rich bankers always benefit when they die, and famous detectives are dangerous to criminals." "On the other hand, poor old Molly is no danger to anybody," remarked Japp sadly. "Not really." Japp confused him. "What are you making a fuss about?" "Nothing. A casual topic." He repeated to Japp what Mr. Morley had casually said about recognizing faces, and about the patient he had mentioned. Japp looked dubious. "I think it's possible, but it's not enough clues. Someone must be trying to hide their true identity. Didn't you pay attention to other patients this morning?" Poirot said in a low voice: "In the waiting room I noticed a young man who looked very much like a murderer!" Japp was surprised, and quickly asked, "How is it?" Poirot smiled: "Mon cher (French: my friend), that was when I first arrived here! I was very nervous, full of thoughts - enfin (French: anyway), in a bad mood. Everything is right. It's all ominous to me, the waiting room, the patients, even that rug on the stairs! I think the young man really just has a bad toothache. That's it!" "I understand how uncomfortable it is," said Japp, "but we're going to do a close look at that murderer of yours. Suicide or not, we're going to look at everybody. I think we should start with Miss Morley again." Talk, I have only one or two words to say. Of course it is a blow to her, but her spirits will not break. We will go and see her now." Tall and tough, Georgina Morley answered the men's questions as they listened to the clichés they had to say."I can't believe it - it's unbelievable - my brother is going to commit suicide!" she added emphatically. "Do you think there is another possibility, miss?" "You mean—kill him." She paused.Then said slowly: "Really—one possibility seems about as unlikely as the other." "But it's not quite as impossible, is it?" "Yes—because—oh, you know, I'll only say what I'm sure of—because of my brother's character. I know there's nothing shady about him—I know he's got no reason—no Any reason to destroy your own life!" "Did you see him this morning—before going to work?" "Yes—at breakfast." "Is he as usual—not at all disturbed?" "He's distracted—but not in the sense you're saying, he's just in a hurry." "why?" "He was going to have a very busy morning, but his secretary and assistant was called away." "Miss Neville?" "yes." "What did she do for him?" "She handles all his correspondence, and of course registers appointments and fills out forms. She also sterilizes instruments, grinds fillers, and hands them to him while he's at work." "Has she been with him long?" "Three years. She's a solid girl, and we all like her." Poirot said: "Your brother told me that she was sent away because a relative was sick." "Yes, she had a telegram that her aunt had had a stroke, and she took the morning train to Somerset." "Is your brother so upset about this?" "yes".There was a slight hesitation in Miss Morley's answer.But she continued hastily, "You—don't think my brother is unreasonable, he just thinks—only for a moment—" "How is it, Miss Morley?" "Well, he thought she didn't come to work on purpose. Oh, don't get me wrong--I'm sure Gladys would never do that kind of thing. That's what I told Henry. But the truth is she's with a man who doesn't match The young man was engaged--Henry was troubled by it--and he thought it might be the young man who persuaded her to go out for a day." "Is that possible?" "No, I'm sure it can't be. Gladys is a very conscientious girl." "But would the young man make such a suggestion?" Miss Morley snorted. "I should say very likely." "What does this young man do—and what's his name?" "Carter, Frank Carter. I think he's - used to be - an insurance company. He lost his job a few weeks ago and doesn't seem to be able to get one again. Henry said--I dare say He's right—he's a complete scoundrel. Gladys actually lent him some of the money she had saved, and Henry was worried about that." Japp asked bluntly, "Has your brother ever persuaded her to break the engagement?" "Yes, I know he tried." "In this way, this Frank Carter is likely to be dissatisfied with your brother." The Grenadier shouted rudely: "Nonsense—if you say that Frank Carter killed Henry. Of course, Henry advised the girl to leave young Carter; but she didn't do what he said at all—she Foolishly in love with Carter." "Do you think anyone else would hate your brother?" Miss Morley shook her head. "Does he get on well with his partner, Mr. Riley?" Miss Morley said bitterly: "How much better you can get on with the Irish!" "What do you mean, Miss Morley?" "The Irish are short-tempered and quarrelsome about everything. Mr Riley loves to argue about politics." "that's it?" "That's all. Mr. Reilly isn't likeable in many ways, but he's a pretty good doctor—at least that's what my brother says." Japp pursued, "What's so unlikable about him?" Miss Morley hesitated, then said: "He's drunk all day—but please don't tell." "Is there any conflict between him and your brother on this issue?" "Henry reminded him once or twice. Dentistry," went on Miss Morley in a didactic tone, "needs hands that don't shake, and the smell of alcohol doesn't inspire self-confidence." Japp nodded vigorously in agreement.Then he said, "Could you please tell me about your brother's financial situation?" "Henry has a good income and has saved some money. We each have an inheritance from our father." Japp cleared his throat and asked in a low voice, "I don't think you know if your brother has left a will, do you?" "He left—and I can tell you the main thing. He left Gladys Neville a hundred pounds, and everything else goes to me." "I see. Now—" The door was knocked hard.Alfred's face appeared.Looking up and down, right and left, at the two visitors with roving eyes, he said suddenly, "It's Miss Neville. She's back—in a bad mood. She wants to ask if she can come in?" Japp nodded, and Miss Morley said, "Tell her to come here, Alfred." "Yes." Alfred replied and disappeared. Miss Morley sighed, and said with a pause: "I don't know what to do with this child." Gladys Neville was a tall, fair-skinned, anemic-looking girl of about twenty-eight.While it's clear she's upset inside, she's quick to show her self-control and sanity. On the pretext of examining Mr. Morley's papers, Japp took her from Miss Morley's to the small office downstairs next to the operating theater. She kept repeating: "I can't believe it! Mr. Morley couldn't have done such a thing!" She emphasized that she could not see him being troubled or distressed in any way. Japp began to question: "You were called away today, Miss Neville—" She interrupted him: "Yes, it's actually a nasty joke! I really think it's wicked of people to do that, I really do." "What do you mean, Miss Neville?" "Well, Auntie's all right. She's healthier than ever. When I first arrived, she was totally confused. Of course I'm glad she's okay--but it's driving me nuts. Sending an email like that The telegram has messed up my mind and everything." "Is that telegram still there, Miss Neville?" "I threw it away, I think, at the station. It just said 'Girl's wind came last night'." "Are you sure—er—" Japp coughed slightly, "—that the telegram was not from your friend Mr. Carter?" "Frank? Why? Ah! I see, you mean--we two messed up? No, to be honest, Mr. Inspector, neither of us would do such a thing." Her indignation seemed genuine, and it took Japp some effort to calm her down.But as soon as he asked about the patient on this particular morning, she returned to normal. "They're all in this book. I'm sure you've read it. I know most of the people in it. Ten o'clock, Mrs. Soames—come for new teeth. Ten-thirty, Ms. Grant—here." An old lady—lives in Lowndes Square. Eleven o'clock, Mr. Hercule Poirot, who comes regularly—oh, yes, this one—excuse me, Mr. Poirot, I am so confused! Half past eleven, Mr Alistair Brent - you know, the banker - this appointment is short as Mr Morley had the stuffing ready last time. Sainsbury's next Miss Searle - she called specifically - said it was a toothache, so Mr Morley added her. She was eloquent and eloquent when she spoke - and fussy. Amberiozzi at twelve Sir—he was a new patient—was at the Savoy Hotel for an appointment. Mr. Morley had many foreign clients, as well as Americans. Next, at half past twelve, was Miss Kirby, who came from Worthing Come." Poirot asked: "There was a tall gentleman in military uniform here when I came. Who is he?" "One of Mr. Riley's patients, I think. I'll get his patient list right away, shall I?" "Thank you, Miss Neville." She was gone only a few minutes, and returned with a book similar to Mr. Morley's register. She read: "Ten o'clock, Betty Sheen (a girl of nine); eleven o'clock, Colonel Abercrombie." "Abercrombie!" murmured Poirot, "C'etait ca (French: good)!" "Half-past eleven, Mr. Howard Rex. Twelve, Mr. Barnes. That's all for this morning. Of course, Mr. Riley has fewer patients than Mr. Morley." "Can you tell us something about Mr. Riley's patients?" "Colonel Abercrombie is a long-term patient, and Mrs. Sheen's children are all attended by Mr. Riley. I can't introduce you to Mr. Rex and Mr. Barnes, although I think I have heard them. name. You know, I'm supposed to take all the calls—" Japp said: "We can ask Mr. Riley ourselves. I want to see him as soon as possible." Miss Neville went out.Japp said to Poirot: "Except for Amberiozzi, Morley's long-term patients. I want to speak to Mr. Amberiozzi. As it stands, he is the last person to see Morley alive. We have to prove that Molly was alive when he last saw him." Poirot shook his head and said slowly: "You still have to prove the motive." "I know. It's still going to give us problems, but we might be able to find some Amberiozzi stuff in Scotland Yard."Then, sensitively, he added: "You have something on your mind, Poirot!" "There are things I don't understand." "What's up?" Poirot said with a smile: "Why Inspector Japp?" "Ok?" "I said, 'Why Inspector Japp?', a high-ranking officer like you—does he get assigned to suicides often?" "Actually, I happened to be around the scene at the time. I was in Lavenham-Wigmore Street. They're pretty good at finding people. That's where they called me up and asked me to come." "But why are they calling you?" "Oh, that--that's actually very simple. Because of Alistair Blunt. As soon as the station chief heard that he was here this morning, he rushed to report to Scotland Yard. Blunt belongs to our protection in this country. figure." "You mean someone really wanted to—kill him?" "Of course there is. The Reds are the first to bear the brunt. It is Brent and his clique that are behind the current government. It is called conservative finances. So as long as there is any possibility of plotting against him this morning, the higher-ups A thorough investigation will be called for." Poirot nodded. "That's exactly what I vaguely guessed. My feeling is"—he waved his hands meaningfully—"that there seems to be—something went wrong. The one who was supposedly killed was—should be— —Alistair Brent. Or maybe this is just the beginning—the beginning of some kind of mass action? I smell—I smell—" He sniffed the air, "—this There is a huge stench of copper behind the transaction!" Japp said, "You feel better, don't you?" "I think that ce pauvre (French: poor) Morley is just a victim in this game. Maybe he knows something - maybe he tells Brent something - or they're afraid he'll tell Brent something -" He fell silent, and Miss Gladys Neville returned. "Mr. Reilly is busy pulling a patient's tooth," she said. "I'll be done in about ten minutes. Is that all right?" Japp replied that of course he could.At the same time, he said that he still wanted to talk to Alfred the valet again. Alfred was tense and excited, and filled with a morbid dread of the possible reproaches that had happened!He had only been with Mr. Morley for two weeks, and during those two weeks he had been making all sorts of mistakes.The endless blaming drained all his self-confidence. "Maybe he was a little more angry than usual," Alfred replied, "but I don't remember anything. I never thought he would end up dead." Poirot interrupted. "Everything you can remember about this morning," he said, "you must tell us. You are a very important witness, and your recollection will be of great use to us." Alfred's face flushed red all of a sudden, and his chest straightened up.He had given Japp a rough description of what had happened that morning.Now he plans to play again.He was in an intoxication of being reused. "I can (perfectly) tell you," he said, "since you asked me." "Please tell me first if anything unusual happened this morning?" Alfred thought for a while, and replied with some disappointment: "It's really not. The bend is (completely) the same as usual." "Has a stranger come here?" "No, sir." "Aren't there any patients?" "I don't know what you mean by patients. The patients come by appointment, if that's what you mean. They're all in the book." Japp nodded broadly. Poirot asked: "Can someone come in directly from the outside?" "Impossible. They don't have a key, you know?" "But it's easy to get out, isn't it?" "Yeah, just turn the handle, walk out, and close the door behind you. I'd say that's what they usually do. It's often when I take the next patient up in the elevator and they themselves Just walk down the stairs, understand?" "Understood. Now please tell us about the people who came today one by one from the first one. If you can't remember the names, please describe their appearance." Alfred thought for a moment, and then began to speak: "First came the wife with the little girl, who was looking for Mr. Riley, and then a Mrs. Soop or something, who was looking for Molly. Mister." Poirot said: "Exactly, go on." "Then an old lady came again - she was dressed luxuriously and came in a Daimler. When she was leaving, a tall soldier came in, and then you came."He nodded to Poirot. "right." "Then the American came—" Japp asked alertly, "American?" "Yes, sir. A young lad. He must be a Yankee--you could tell by the tone of his voice. He was early, but he wasn't on his appointment by eleven-thirty--and he I didn't even keep my promise." Japp asked sensitively, "What's going on?" "It's not his fault. When Mr. Riley's buzzer went off at half past eleven—actually a bit later, probably between twenty and twelve—I went for him, but he had already Gone. Must be scared of going away," he added expertly, "that's what they do sometimes." Poirot asked: "So he must have left shortly after me?" "That's right, sir. You left after I put the great man up in the Rolls. Ah—that's a beautiful car—Mr Brent's. I'll come down to see you off." out, and this time a lady comes in. She's Miss Sembry Seale, or something--then, oh--yes, actually, I ran into the kitchen to get something to eat Well, I heard a buzzer go off while I was still down in the kitchen - it was Mr. Riley's - and I hurried up, as I said, the American gentleman had gone. I went to tell Mr. Reilly, he is still the same, and he just cursed a few words." Poirot said: "Go on." "Let me think about it, what happened next? Oh, by the way, Mr. Morley's buzzer rang, and it was time to see Miss Seele, when I led this lady with such an unclear name As I was going up in the lift, the big man went down and left. Then I came down again, and at this moment two gentlemen came—a little man with a very high-pitched voice—I can't remember his name, I just remember that it was Mr. Riley, and the other was a fat foreigner who was Mr. Morley's patient. "Miss Seale didn't take much time—not more than a quarter of an hour. I sent her out, and the foreign gentleman upstairs. I took the other gentleman up to Mr. Riley as soon as he came." Japp asked, "Did you not see Amberiozzi, the foreign gentleman, away?" "No, sir. I should say no. He must have gone off by himself. I did not send either of these gentlemen." "Where are you after twelve o'clock?" "I'm always sitting in the elevator, sir, waiting for the doorbell or some buzzer to go off." Poirot said: "Perhaps you are still reading?" Alfred blushed again. "It doesn't do any harm, sir. I have nothing else to do anyway." "That makes sense. What book are you reading?" "Death at 11:45, sir. It's an American detective story. That's a lie, sir! It's all about the police." Poirot smiled.He said, "Can you hear the front door shut as you sit there?" "Are you saying someone is going out? I don't think I can hear you, sir. I mean I won't notice! You know the elevator is in the back of the hall and round the corner. The doorbell is right behind it, So is the buzzer. So those two are not going to be missed." Poirot nodded, and Japp asked: "And what happened?" Alfred frowned, thinking hard. "There was only the last lady, Miss Hildy. I waited for Mr. Morley's signal, but it never sounded, and at one o'clock the waiting lady lost her temper." "Didn't you go up before this to see if Mr. Morley was ready?" Alfred shook his head decisively. "No, sir. It never occurred to me to do it. The gentleman up there might still be up there. I'll have to wait for his signal. Of course, if I knew Mr. Morley was going to die—" Alfred shook his head morbidly. Poirot asked: "Does the buzzer usually sound before or after the patient comes down?" “It depends, generally if the patient is going to come downstairs then the buzzer will go off first. If they are going to take the elevator it might go off when I’m taking them down. But that’s not always the case. Sometimes Mr. Morley takes a few minutes before signaling the next patient. If he is busy, he will ring the signal as soon as the patient is out of the house." "I see—" asked Poirot after a pause, "were you surprised by Mr. Morley's suicide, Alfred?" "I was completely dumbfounded. It seems to me that he has no reason to go this way—oh!" Alfred's eyes suddenly bulged, "uh—this— He shouldn't have been killed, huh?" Poirot continued before Japp could interrupt. "If it was, wouldn't you be so surprised?" "Oh, I don't know, sir. I really don't know. I don't see who would kill Mr. Morley. He's a—well, a very ordinary man, sir. Was he really murdered, sir?" Poirot said gravely: "We must consider all possibilities. That's why I told you that you are a very important witness, and that you must do your best to recall everything that happened this morning." After he finished speaking these words word by word, Alfred frowned and tried hard to remember. "I can't think of anything else, sir. Really can't." Alfred's voice was frustrated. "Very well, Alfred. Are you sure that no one but the sick has entered the house this morning?" "No strangers, sir. Only Miss Neville's young man has been--he was very unhappy not to have found her." Japp asked sensitively, "When was that?" "It was just after twelve. He looked annoyed when I told him that Miss Neville wasn't coming to work today, and said he was waiting to see Mr. Morley. I told him Mr. Morley would be busy until lunch. , but he said it's okay, he can wait." Poirot asked: "Did he wait?" A look of surprise flashed in Alfred's eyes.He said, "Oh—I didn't even think about it! He went into the waiting room, but he wasn't there again. He must be getting impatient. Come back next time." When Alfred was out, Japp asked bluntly, "Do you think it's wise to talk to this guy about murder?" Poirot shrugged. "I think so--yes. When stimulated, he will recall everything he may have seen or heard, and he will pay double attention to all the developments here." "However, we don't want this matter to spread all over the city soon." “Mon cher（法语：我亲爱的），不会的。阿尔弗雷德爱读侦探小说——阿尔弗雷德迷恋着犯罪。不论阿尔弗雷德无意中说出什么都可以归咎于他那病态的犯罪狂想。” “好吧，也许你是对的，波洛。现在还是让我们来听听赖利说些什么吧。” 赖利先生的手术室和办公室在一楼，跟楼上的一样大小，区别只是光线暗些，来的病人少些。 莫利先生的合伙人是个高个子、黑皮肤的年轻人，一绺头发不整齐地耷拉在他的额前。他的嗓音颇有魅力，目光也挺机灵。 “我们希望，赖利先生”，杰普做了自我介绍之后说，“您能帮助我们弄清这次事件的一些情况。” “那您就错了，因为我帮不了你们”，对方答道，“应该这么说——亨利莫利是最不会自杀的人。我可能会——但他不会。” “您为什么可能会呢？” “因为我有数不清的烦恼”，他说，“比如，缺钱花就是一个！我从来做不到收支平衡。而莫利是个精细人，你们会发现他从来没有欠过债，他不会有经济上的麻烦，这我可以肯定。” “风流韵事呢？”杰普提示道。 “您是说莫利吗？他根本就没有生活乐趣，完全受他姐姐的支配，这可怜的人。” 杰普开始询问赖利这天上午看的病人的详细情况。 “噢，我认为他们都是光明正大的人。小贝蒂希恩，她是个好姑娘——她家里的人一个个都是由我看牙的。阿伯克隆比上校也是我的老病人。” “霍华德雷克斯先生呢？”杰普问。 “就是那个弃我而去的人吗？他以前没来过我这儿。我一点儿也不了解他。他打电话来特别要求预约今天上午。” “他从哪儿打来的电话？” “霍尔本宫旅馆。我想他大概是个美国人。” “阿尔弗雷德也这么说。” “阿尔弗雷德当然知道”，赖利说，“我们的阿尔弗雷德是个电影迷。” “您其他的病人呢？” “巴恩斯？一个可笑的刻板小个儿，退休的公务员，住在伊陵路那边。” 杰普沉吟片刻，又问：“您可以给我们谈谈内维儿小姐吗？” 赖利先生眉毛向上一扬。 “那个飘（漂）亮的白皮肤秘书？真的没什么，老伙计！她跟老莫利的关系可是一清二白的——我敢肯定。” “我从来也没暗示他们不清白呀”。杰普急忙声明，他的脸有些红了。 “那是我的错”，赖利说，“原谅我这肮脏的灵魂吧，好吗？我还以为你们这么问我，是在cherchez la femme（法语：怀疑那个女人）呢！” “请原谅我用您的语言说话”，他顺带对波洛说了一句，“我的发音很美吧？这都该归功于修女们的教导。” 杰普阻止了他轻浮的表演。他接着问：“您知道和内维尔小姐订婚的那个年轻人的情况吗？我知道他叫卡特，弗兰克卡特。” “莫利不大喜欢他”，赖利说，“他想让内维尔小姐拒绝他。” “这大概让卡特很生气吧？” “也许气得要命”。赖利先生起劲地表示同意。 他停了一下，反问道：“对不起，你们调查的真是一桩自杀案，而不是谋杀案吗？” 杰普单刀直入地说：“如果是谋杀，您有什么可以提醒我们的吗？” “别问我！我倒希望能说是乔治娜干的！她是那种满脑子禁酒主义的冷面女人。不过乔治娜恐怕还算得是讲道德的正派人。当然，我自己可以很容易地溜上楼去杀了那老家伙，可我没有。事实上，我无法想象会有任何人想要杀莫利。同样我也无法想象他会自杀。” 他又说道——他的声音有些异样：“事实上，我对这事感到很难过。你们千万别拿我的举止来判断我。我只是有点神经质。我很喜欢老莫利，我会想他的。” 杰普放下电话。当他转向波洛的时候，脸色狰狞。 他说：“安伯里奥兹先生'觉得有点不舒服——今天下午不会客'，他必须得见我——而且他也休想溜走！他只要想逃，我安在萨瓦旅馆的那个人马上就会跟着他。” 波洛沉思着问：“你认为是安伯里奥兹杀了莫利？” “不知道。可他是最后一个见到莫利活着的人。他还是个初诊病人。按照他的说法，他十二点二十五分离开的时候，莫利还活得好好的。这可能是真的，也可能不是。如果莫利那时确实还活着，我们就要重新构想后来发生的事了。这时离下一个病人预约的时间还有五分钟。那五分钟里有人进来找他吗？是卡特？或者是赖利？接着发生了什么事？毫无疑问，十二点半，或者最迟差二十五分到一点，莫利死了——要不然他会按响蜂鸣器或者是给柯尔比小姐送下话来说他不能给她看病了。但是没有。要么是因为他已经给杀死了，要么是因为有人跟他说了什么，把他的脑子搅乱了，于是他就自杀了。” 他停了一下。 “我要跟他上午看的每一个病人谈一次话。他完全有可能会对他们中的哪个人说点什么，而这可以把我们引上正轨。” 他看了看表。 “阿里斯泰尔布伦特先生说四点一刻可以给我几分钟时间。我们先去见他。他住在迁而喜的泰晤士河堤岸边，然后我们可以在见安伯里奥兹以前先顺路去找那个叫塞恩斯伯里西尔的女人。我想尽可能地掌握材料之后，再跟我们的希腊朋友打交道。然后，我准备同你说的'看起来象杀人犯'的美国人谈谈。” 赫克尔波洛连连摇头。 “不是杀人犯——是牙疼。” “无论如何，我们要见见这位雷克斯先生。至少可以说，他的行为可疑。我们还要调查内维尔小姐的电报，还有她的姑妈，还有她的那年轻人。实际上，我们要调查每一件事，每一个人！” 阿里斯泰尔布伦特从来没有在大众面前显露过真容。也许因为生性淡泊宁静，也许是因为多年以来，他的角色是女王的丈夫而不是国王。 吕蓓卡桑塞文拉托的娘家姓阿恩霍尔特，四十五岁时，这个梦想破灭的女人来到了伦敦。她的父母都是富贵人家出身。她母亲是罗瑟斯坦家族欧洲后裔的继承人，她父亲在美国开着一家属于阿恩霍尔特家族的大银行。吕蓓卡阿恩霍尔特由于两个兄弟不幸死亡、一个表兄在空难中丧身而成为巨大财产的唯一继承人。她同著名的欧洲贵族菲利蒲迪桑塞文拉托结了婚。在跟这个劣迹昭彰、声名狼藉的纨绔流氓度过了极其不幸的两个年头之后，到第三年她终于获准离婚，并取得了对孩子的监护权。但没过几年，孩子也死了。 接二连三的痛苦使吕蓓卡桑塞文拉托转而把她毋庸置疑的才智投向金融生意——她的血液里奔流着在这方面天生的才能。她同父亲合作经营起银行业。 父亲死后，她凭借雄厚的资产继续在金融界保持着强有力的地位。她到伦敦来了——伦敦银行一个地位较低的合伙人带着各种文件被派到克拉里齐去见她。六个月以后，传来了一个令世人目瞪口呆的消息：吕蓓卡桑塞文拉托即将下嫁阿里斯泰尔布伦特，一个比她小将近二十岁的男人。 自然有人嘲讽——也有人微笑。她的朋友们说，吕蓓卡在男人的事情上简直傻得无可救药！先是桑塞文拉托——现在又是这个年轻人。显然，他是为了她的钱才跟她结婚的。她免不了要受第二次灾难了！但出乎所有人的预料，这次婚姻非常美满。那些预言阿里斯泰尔布伦特会把她的钱用到别的女人身上的人们都错了。他始终对妻子忠贞不二。甚至在过了十年她死之后，他继承了她巨大的财富，人们以为这下他也许会无拘无束地寻欢作乐了，但他仍然没有再娶。他仍然过着宁静简单的生活。他的金融才能跟他的妻子相比豪不逊色。他判断和处理问题的水平有口皆碑——他看事情总是那么全面。他全凭自己的才干支配着庞大的阿恩霍尔特—罗瑟斯坦财团的股权。 他很少接触社交界，他在肯特郡和诺福克各有一所度周末的房子——他没有放荡的伙伴，总是找一些安静的、老派的朋友一起过周末。他喜欢打高尔夫球，球技尚可。他还醉心于园艺。 这就是杰普侦探长和赫克尔波洛乘着一辆老爷出租车要去见的人。 哥特楼在迁而喜的泰晤士河堤一带尽人皆知。房子里布置精美、富丽而不铺张。它并不摩登时髦，但住起来舒适安逸。 阿里斯泰尔布伦特没让他们等候。他几乎是马上就出来了。 “是杰普侦探长吗？” 杰普迎上前去，并介绍了赫克尔波洛。布伦特饶有兴趣地打量着他。 “我听说过您，这是肯定的，波洛先生。而且肯定——最近——在什么地方——”，他停住口，皱起了眉。 波洛说：“今天早晨，先生，在ce pauvre（法语：可怜）的莫利先生的候诊室里。” 阿里斯泰尔布伦特的眉结解开了。他说：“对了。我就知道在什么地方见过您”。他转向杰普，“我能为您做点什么？听到可怜的莫利的事我非常难过。” “您感到吃惊吗，布伦特先生？” “很吃惊。当然，我并不怎么了解他，可我觉得他完全不象要自杀的人。” “今天上午，他的身体和精神看起来都还好吧？” “我觉得是这样——是的”，阿里斯泰尔布伦特停了一下，然后带着一种近乎孩子气的微笑说，“说真的，我心里很害怕去看牙医。我特别恨那该死的玩意儿在嘴里吱吱乱钻。所以我很少注意到别的什么。刚一做完，你们知道，我就起来走了。但我要说那时候莫利看来完全正常。心情愉快，忙乎个不停。” “您经常找他看牙吗？” “我想这是我第三次或是第四次去找他了。一年前开始我的牙才开始老出毛病的。大概真是老了的缘故吧。” 赫克尔波洛问：“最初是谁给您介绍的莫利先生？” 布伦特皱紧双眉，尽力聚精会神地回想着。 “让我想想——有一次我牙疼——有人告诉我去找夏洛蒂皇后街的莫利先生——不行，我怎么也想不起是谁了。对不起。” 波洛说：“要是想起来，您可以告诉我们吗？” 阿里斯泰尔布伦特好奇地看着他。 他回答道：“当然可以。为什么？这很重要吗？” “我觉得”，波洛说，“这可能非常重要。” 就在他们正走下寓所前的台阶时，一辆小汽车嘎然停在门口。这是一辆专为运动目的制造的汽车——坐这种车的人要出来必须从方向盘下面扭动身体一截一截地往外挤。 那正在下车的年轻女人看起来就象只由手臂和腿构成的一样。两个男人已经谈着话转身沿着街道走去了，她才终于从车里钻出来了。 姑娘站在人行道上望着他们。突然，她大喊了一声“喂！” 两个人都没意识到是在叫他们，谁也没有转过脸来。那姑娘又叫道：“喂！喂！那边那两位！” 他们停下来，好奇地四望。姑娘朝他们走过去，手臂和腿上压痕犹存。她又高又瘦，伶俐活泼的表情弥补了她长相上的不足。她的皮肤黝黑，是那种经过大量日晒后的深棕色。 她对波洛说：“我认识你——你是大侦探赫克尔波洛！”她的声音热情浑厚，略带一点美国口音。 波洛回答：“听候您的吩咐，小姐。” 她的目光移向他的同伴，波洛连忙介绍：“这位是杰普侦探长。” 她的眼睛一下子睁得老大——好象显得很吃惊。她声音有点急促地说：“你们来这儿干什么？阿里斯泰尔姨公他没——没出什么事吧？” 波洛立即反问道：“您怎么会这么想呢，小姐？” “他没事？太好了。” 杰普接过了波洛的问题。 “您怎么会以为布伦特先生出了事呢，呃——您怎么称呼——小姐？” 他停下来。 姑娘一字一句地回答：“奥莉维亚，珍妮奥莉维亚。”然后她轻轻地、不能让人信服地笑了笑说：“门前警犬打转，楼顶必有炸弹，不是吗？” “我很欣慰地告诉您布伦特先生平安无事，奥莉维亚小姐。” 她直视着波洛。 “那么是他叫你来做什么吗？” 杰普说：“奥莉维亚小姐，是我们来拜访他，想让他就今天上午发生的一起自杀事件提供点线索。” 她追问道：“自杀？谁自杀了？在哪儿？” “一位牙科医生，夏洛蒂皇后街58号的莫利先生。” “噢！”珍妮奥莉维亚失声叫道，“噢——”，她皱起眉，眼盯着前方。然后她出人意料地说：“噢，可这太荒唐了！”她一转身，突然间一点不讲客套地离开了他们，登登登跑上了哥特楼的台阶，掏出钥匙开门进去了。 “啊！”杰普凝视着她的背影发话了，“要说这事可有点奇怪啊。” “有意思”，波洛缓缓地说。 杰普定定神，看了一眼腕上的表，招手拦了一辆过路的出租车。 “我们还来得及赶在去萨瓦旅馆之前先拜访塞恩斯伯里西尔。” 塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐正坐在格伦戈威尔宫廷旅馆光线暗淡的休息室里喝茶。 穿便衣的警官的出现使她感到有些慌张——但杰普看出她的激动其实源于欣喜。而波洛则伤心地发现她仍然没有把鞋上的带扣缝好。 “真的，警官先生”，塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐颠三倒四地说着话，眼睛不停地东张西望，“我真不知道我们在什么地方才没人打扰，这太难了——特别是吃茶点的时间——也许您想用点茶——还有——还有您的朋友呢？” “别为我费心，小姐，”杰普说，“这位是赫克尔波洛先生。” “是吗？”塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐说，“也许——你们真的——你们两位都不想喝茶？不吗？那，我们或者该到客厅去坐坐，虽然那儿经常是客满的。啊，我看见那儿有个拐角——就是墙凹进去的那块儿，那桌人刚走。我们坐过去吧——” 她领头就朝那比较僻静一点的、放着一张沙发和两张椅子的凹处走去。波洛和杰普紧跟着她，前者还捡起了塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐照例丢下的一条围巾和一张手帕。 他将它们交还给她。 “噢，谢谢——我太粗心了。现在，侦探先生，请——不，是侦探长先生，对不对？请您随便向我提问吧。这真是一件令人悲痛的事。可怜的人——我想，他是不是心里有什么事？我们生活的可真是个忧患重重的时代呀！” “您发现他忧虑吗？塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐？” “嗯——”塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐回想着，最后有些犹豫地说，“您知道，我也不敢肯定他的确是在忧虑！不过也可能我没注意到——特别是在那种环境下。我想大概我是个胆小的人。”塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐嗤嗤地笑了，拍了拍她那一头鸟窝似的卷发。 “您能告诉我们当您在候诊室的时候，那里边都有谁吗？” “让我想想——我进去的时候那儿只有一个年轻人。我想他的牙一定正痛，因为他嘴里念念有词，看起来很粗野，手里边稀里哗啦地翻着一本杂志。后来他突然跳起来走了出去。他一定是牙痛得太厉害了！” “您不知道他出去以后是不是就离开了诊所？” “我一点也不知道。我以为他只是觉得再也没法等了，非得马上去见医生呢。但他不可能是去找莫利先生，因为只过了几分钟听差就来把我领到莫利先生那里去了。” “您出来的时候没有再进候诊室吗？” “没有。因为您知道，我还在莫利先生那里就已经戴好了帽子，弄好了头发。有那么一些人”，塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐接着说，她越说越起劲，“他们把帽子放在楼下候诊室里，我就从来不这样。我有个朋友，她曾经这么干过一回，结果发生了一件令人痛心的事。那是顶新帽子，她小心地把它放在一张椅子上，当她再下来的时候，您相信吗，有个小孩在上面坐过了，把它压扁了。毁了！完全给毁了！” “真是个悲剧。”波洛礼貌地说。 “我认为小孩的母亲应该负完全责任”，塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐宣判道，“当母亲的应该看好她们的孩子。小宝贝儿们并不想妨害别人，但他们必须得有人照看。” 杰普问：“这么说那牙痛的年轻人是您在夏洛蒂皇后街58号见到的唯一的病人了？” “我上楼到莫利先生那儿去的时候，有一位先生下楼走了——噢，我还记得——我刚到的时候还碰到一个怪里怪气的外国人从里边出来。” 杰普轻轻咳了一声。波洛却神情庄重地说：“那是我，女士。” “噢，我的天！”塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐仔细地端详着他，“真的是您！请千万宽恕我——我眼睛太近视了——而且这儿很黑，是不是？”她一下了变得有点语无伦次起来，“真的，我要说，我自以为有很好的记忆，能记住别人的相貌。但这儿光线太暗了，对不对？请您千万宽恕我这最不幸的错误！” 他们赶紧安慰她，使她平静下来，杰普才又问道：“您能肯定莫利先生没有说过这样的话吗——比方说——他今天上午等待着一次痛苦的会见什么的？一点也没有听说吗？” “没有，真的，我可以肯定他没说过。” “他没有提到一个叫安伯里奥兹的病人吗？” “没有，没有。他真的什么都没说——我是说，除了牙科医生必须得说的那些话以外。” 波洛的脑海里飞快地闪过几句话：“漱漱口。请再张大点，轻轻闭上嘴。” 杰普进一步说，也许有必要请塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐出庭作证呢。 起初塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐失声惊叫起来，然后她似乎也就默许了这个请求。杰普随口提起的另一个问题又引出了塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐的生平故事。 看来她是六个月前从印度来英国的。她在很多家旅馆和供膳寄宿处住过，最后因为非常喜欢格伦戈威尔宫廷旅馆宾至如归的气氛，才在这里住了下来；她在印度时主要住在加尔各答，在那里做传教慈善工作并讲授演讲术。 “纯正、清晰的英语——是第一重要的，侦探长先生。您知道”——塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐傻痴痴地笑起来，但又忍住了——“年轻的时候，我当过演员。噢，只演过几个小角色，都是些跑龙套的角色！但我抱负很大，不断学习丰富自己，一直到能演各种剧目。后来我周游世界各地，去演——莎士比亚，肖伯纳”，她叹了一口气，“我们这些可怜的女人出毛病就出在感情上——总受感情的支配。这时我一时冲动，轻率地结了婚。天啊！我们几乎马上就分手了。我——我是悲惨地给人欺骗了，我又改回了做姑娘时的姓，一个朋友热心地给我提供了一笔钱，让我开起了演讲学校。我还帮着建立了一个业余剧团。我一定要给你们看几张我们的海报。” 杰普侦探长可知道那会有多危险！他赶紧逃走了，塞恩斯伯里西尔小姐却还在没完没了地说最后的几句话——“要是，出于某种偶然，我的名字要出现在报纸上的话——我是说，作为一个出庭作证的证人——你们能保证把它写对吗？梅贝尔塞恩斯伯里西尔——梅贝尔是MABELLE，西尔是SEALE。当然啦，要是他们真的要提到我的话，我还曾经在牛津长租剧场演过《如愿》呢。” “当然，当然。”杰普侦探长简直逃一样地跑了出来。 在出租汽车上，他长叹一声，擦着额头。 “要是有必要的话，我们应该能够对她的一切进行核查，”他说，“除非她说的全都是假话——但我不相信会是这样！” 波洛摇着头。 “说谎的人，”他说，“既不会说得这样详细，也不会说得这么毫无条理！” 杰普接着说：“我原来还担心她会不愿意出庭作证呢——多数没结婚的中年女人都这样——但她当过演员，这使她渴望开口说话。她有点好出风头！” 波洛问道：“你真的要她出庭吗？” “也许不，这得看情况。”他顿了一下又说：“我现在更加确信，波洛，这不是自杀案。” “动机呢？” “我们不是正在找吗？要是莫利曾经勾引过安伯里奥兹的女儿呢？” 波洛没有说话。他尽力设想莫利扮演一个勾引者的角色，去勾引一个美目盼兮的希腊少女，但他可悲地失败了。 他提醒杰普，赖利先生说过，他的合伙人一点都没有生活情趣。 杰普含糊地回答：“噢，你怎么知道出门游逛一趟会发生些什么事情呢！”他又感觉良好地加了一句，“等我们跟这家伙谈过以后就会清楚该怎么办了。” 他们付了车钱，走进萨瓦旅馆。 杰普向人打听安伯里奥兹。 服务生很奇怪地看着他俩。说道：“安伯里奥兹先生？很抱歉，先生，恐怕你们不能见他。” “噢，我能的，伙计。”杰普坚持说。他把服务生拉到一旁，把证件给他看。 服务生回答道：“您没弄清楚，先生。安伯里奥兹先生半小时以前死了。” 对赫克尔波洛来说，就好象有一扇门轻轻地、但无可挽回地关上了。