Chapter 19 Chapter 18 Tea at Dr. Riley's House

Poirot walked around the house and surroundings of the delegation before leaving.He also asked the servants a few words secondhand—that is to say, Dr. Rayleigh translated their questions and answers from English into Arabic and from Arabic into English. These questions were chiefly about what Mrs. Leidner and I saw peeping through the window, and about the stranger with whom Father Lavigne was talking the next day. "Do you really think that man had anything to do with that?" Dr. Reilly asked as our car hopped past on the road to Hashani. "I need all the documents," was Poirot's answer.

Indeed, this speaks volumes for his method.I found out later that every detail—even the smallest gossip—interested him.Men don't usually like to listen to gossip like that. When we arrived at Dr. Rayleigh's I must confess that I was delighted that I had good tea.I noticed that Poirot put five sugar cubes in his tea. Stirring his tea very carefully with a teaspoon, he said, "Now we can talk about whatever we want, can't we? We can decide who might be the murderer." "Lavigne, Mercado, or Rhett?" asked Dr. Reilly. "No, no... That's the third view. Now I want to talk about the second view—the ex-husband who hadn't seen him for many years suddenly appeared mysteriously, and the issue of his brother-in-law is put aside, let's discuss it very briefly now Let's see if anyone on the mission has the means and the opportunity to kill Mrs. Leidner. Who might do that?"

"I thought you didn't take that view seriously." "Not at all. But I have a natural sympathy," said Poirot reproachfully. "Can I discuss in the presence of Dr. Leidner what motive might have caused one of his regiment to murder his wife? If That would be inconsiderate. I had to support his imagination that his wife was respectable, and that everyone respected her. "But that's not the case at all. Now we can say what's on our minds without mercy and with great objectivity. We don't have to take other people's feelings into account. That's where Nurse Leatheran can help us. I believe she A man of great insight."

"Ah, I don't know if I can help with this." Dr. Rayleigh handed me a plate of warm toasted oatmeal—"To refresh you," he said, "these are good oatmeal." "Now, go ahead," said M. Poirot in a friendly, chatty manner, "you will tell me, Miss Nurse, how each member of the regiment really feels about Mrs. Leidner." "Mr. Poirot, I have only been here a week!" said I. "A week is enough for a clever man like you. The nurse can gauge the facts quickly. Once she has a judgment, she will stick to her opinion. Speak, let us begin. For example, Father Lavigne ?”

"Oh, well, I really don't know. He and Mrs. Leidner seem to enjoy talking together. But they usually talk in French. My own French isn't very good, but I learned a little at school when I was a kid. I think Their talk was mainly about books." "They were, so to speak, very friendly--didn't they?" "Ah, yes, so to speak. But I still think Father Lavigne finds her incomprehensible—the—he is almost annoyed by her incomprehensibility, don't know if you know what I mean." So I told Poirot that on my first day there, when I spoke to Father Lavigny at the excavation site, he called Mrs. Leidner a "dangerous woman."

"That's very interesting," said Poirot. "Well, she—what do you think she thought of him?" "That's kind of hard to say, too. It's hard to know what Mrs. Leidner thinks of other people. Sometimes, I think, she finds him hard to understand, too. I remember she once said to Father Lavigne that he wasn't like any one she knew. Father." "Order a piece for Father Lavigne," said Dr. Rayleigh jokingly. "My good friend," said Poirot, "don't you have a patient to take care of? I definitely don't want to keep you and let you delay your work."

"I have a patient in a hospital," Dr. Rayleigh said. So he stood up and said that although Poirot's words were very vague, he understood what he meant, so he had to tacitly understand.Then, he laughed and left. "That's better," said Poirot, "and now we're going to have an interesting private conversation for two. But don't forget your tea." He hands me a plate of sandwiches and suggests another cup of tea.He was really nice and kind. , "Now," he said, "let's go on with your impressions, and, in your opinion, is there anyone out there who doesn't like Mrs. Leidner?"

"But," I said, "it's just my opinion. You can't claim it's mine." "of course not." "I thought that little bitch in Mecca hated her quite a bit!" "Ah, but what about Mr. McGado?" "He has a little admiration for her," I said, "and I don't think any woman pays attention to him except his wife. But Mrs. Leidner is kind to people; Interested. I think the poor man took it to heart." "So, Mrs. McGado - is she unhappy?" "She's jealous, that's clear—it's true. You have to be very careful when you're around a couple. It's true, and I can tell you some amazing things. You don't Imagine what women would go through if they had a problem with their husbands."

"I have no doubt that there is truth in what you say. Mrs. McGado is jealous, then? She hates Mrs. Leidner?" "I've seen her look at her the way she wanted to kill her—Jesus!" I cut off hastily. "Actually, Monsieur Poirot, I don't mean—I mean—that I would never—" "Yes, yes, I quite understand. You said that by accident. It was an easy thing to say. What about Mrs. Leidner? Worried?" "This—" I said after a moment's consideration, "I don't think she's worried at all. In fact, I don't even know if she noticed that Mrs. McGado was holding a grudge against her. I wanted to give her a hint once— But I don't want to do that, too much to say. That's my idea."

"You are, no doubt, very clever. Can you give me some examples of how Mrs. McGadoux expressed her jealousy?" I told him about our conversation on the roof. "So she mentioned Mrs. Leidner's first marriage," said Poirot thoughtfully, "and you remember—when she mentioned that—the way she looked at you as if she didn't know whether you Have you heard a different story?" "Do you think she might know the truth?" "It's only a possibility. She may have written those letters--and cunningly fabricated a hand tapping on the window, and all that stuff."

"I suspect things of that sort myself. It seems like the sort of dastardly vengeance she might have committed." "Yes, I thought, it was a cruel disposition. But not the usual temperament of a ruthless murderer. Unless—" He paused, and then said, "It is strange that what she said to you Strange words: 'I know why you're here.' What does she mean by that?" "I can't imagine that," I said frankly. "She thought you had a secret purpose for going there other than the public purpose. What's the reason? Besides, how could she care so much about this matter? It's also very strange, you told me that you had dinner on the day you arrived At tea she keeps staring at you in that manner." "But she's not a well-bred woman, M. Poirot," I said solemnly. "That is, Miss Nurse, that is an excuse, but not a good explanation." I was momentarily not quite sure what he meant.However, he quickly continued. "So, what about the other team members?" I thought about it. "I thought Miss Johnson didn't like Mrs. Leidner either. But she's very frank and aboveboard. She almost admits she's biased. You know, she's been loyal to Dr. Leidner for years. But, of course, it's different when you're married—that's undeniable." "Yes," said Poirot, "and in Miss Johnson's opinion, the Leidners' marriage is not suitable. It would be more suitable if Dr. Leidner married her." "True," I agreed, "but that's entirely a man's trait. Not one man in a hundred would think about suitability. So we can't really blame Dr. Leidner. And Miss Johnson, Poor, she's nothing to look at. But Mrs. Leidner is really pretty--not young, of course... But, ah! I think if you knew her, she had a power--I Remember Mr. Coleman said she was like an unknown witch, who came to lure people into the swamp. That's not a very good way of saying - ah - you will laugh at me, but, she does have a power - supernatural .” "She has a charm—yes, I understand," said Poirot. "I thought she didn't get on well with Mr. Garley either," I went on. "I have an idea that Mr. Garley is as jealous as Miss Johnson. He's always hard on her; she's on him too. You know—she called him Mr. Garley, quite politely, when he passed her things at the table. Of course, he was an old friend of her husband's. Some women can't stand their husband's friends. They don't want people Knowing she can't stand them—at least, that's a stupid way of saying the situation." "I understand. So, what about the three young men? You say Coleman has romantic thoughts about her." "That's very funny, M. Poirot," said I. "He's such a dull young man." "What about the other two?" "About Mr. Emmott, I don't quite understand. He's always so quiet and never talks much. You know, she's always been nice to him—very friendly—calling him David, and talking a lot about Rayleigh. Miss and things like that made fun of him." "Oh, really? So, does he like that?" "I don't really know," I said hesitantly. "He just looked at her a little funny. You don't know what he's going to think." "Where's Mr. Rhett?" "She wasn't always polite to him," I said slowly. "I think she was impatient with him. She used to say sarcastic things to him." "Does he care?" "He often blushes, poor. Of course, she didn't mean to be rude to him." Then, all of a sudden, because I felt a little sorry for him, I suddenly felt that he might be a cruel murderer, and he was always involved in this matter. "Ah, Monsieur Poirot," cried I, "what do you think really happened?" He shook his head slowly and thoughtfully. "Tell me," said he, "are you not afraid to go back there tonight?" "Oh, no," I said. "Of course, I remember what you said, but who's going to murder me?" "I don't think anyone is going to kill you," he said slowly, "and that's partly why I'd like to hear all you can tell me. No, I think—I believe—that you are Very safe." "If someone in Baghdad told me—" I started, then stopped. "Did you hear any gossip about the Leidners and the Antiquities Survey before you came here?" he asked. " I told him that Mrs. Leidner's nickname had been mentioned to me.I told him only a little of what Mrs. Kersey said. While they were talking, the door opened and Miss Riley entered.She was playing tennis just now, racket still in hand: I think M. Poirot had seen her when he came to Harshany. She said "hello" casually to me as usual, and then grabbed a sandwich. "Ah, Monsieur Poirot," said she, "how is your investigation of the mysterious murder in our place going?" "It's not going very fast, miss." "It turns out that you have rescued the nurse from the messy scene." "Miss Leatheran gave me some valuable information about the members of the regiment. By the way, I learned a lot about the dead. Miss, the dead are often clues to mysterious murders." Miss Raleigh said: "You are quite clever, Mr. Poirot. If a woman should be killed, Mrs. Leidner is that woman! It is absolutely true." "Miss Rayleigh!" I cried out in great disgust. She laughed, a short, malicious laugh. "Ah," said she, "I thought what you heard was not the truth. Nurse Leatheran was probably deceived like so many others, Mr. Poirot, do you know? I hope your case will not be as You've been such a success in your usual cases. I'd like Mrs. Leidner's murderer to go unpunished. In fact, if I were to get rid of her myself, I wouldn't quite object." I absolutely hate this girl.Mr. Poirot, I must say, was so composed that he did not stir a hair.He just bowed to her and said pleasantly: "Then, I hope you can provide proof that you were not at the scene of the murder yesterday afternoon?" A moment's silence followed, and at the same moment Miss Riley's racket fell to the floor with a thud.She picked it up impatiently, sloppy and lazy like all girls like her.She said breathlessly: "Yes, I play tennis at the club, but seriously, Mr Poirot, I don't know if you know anything about Mrs Leidner, whether you Know what kind of woman she is." He bowed to her again amusingly and said, "Miss, please tell me." She hesitated before speaking.I was really disgusted by the ruthless, lack of politeness with which she spoke. "We have a tradition of not speaking ill of the dead, which, I think, is a stupid thing to say. The truth is always the truth. Generally speaking, it is better to keep silent about the living. You can use all the power you can. You can’t hurt the dead. However, the harm they do to others can’t be forgotten after death. I’m not quite right to quote Shakespeare’s famous line like this, but it’s almost the same! (Press, Here is a quote from Antony in Shakespeare's famous play "Julius Caesar": ""Has the lady nurse told you about the strange atmosphere in the Arimian antiquities? She Did it tell you how nervous they were? And the glaring at each other like enemies? That was Louis Leidner. I was there three years ago, when I was a kid. They were Be as happy as you want, be as happy as you want. Even last year, they were fine. But this year, there's a scourge among them - and it's all her fault. She's the type who can't make others happy Women! There are women like that in the world. She is one of them, and she likes to screw things up. Just for fun—or out of a sense of authority, or, maybe, because she was born that way. Her kind of woman must Capture every man you can get your hands on!" "Miss Riley," I cried, "I thought you were wrong. In fact, I know it's wrong." She ignored it and continued on. "She didn't think it was enough that her husband adored her—she had to fool that long-legged, shambling fool, Megado, and then she had Bill. Bill was a smart guy, but, she Confused. Carl Reiter, she just tortured him for fun. It was easy, he was a very sensitive person. She also tried her hand at David. "David was a better target for her to tease, because he resisted. He felt her magic - but, he didn't want her to be mesmerized. I think he was discerning enough. He knew she wouldn't let him go." In the eyes. That's why I hate her. She's not pornographic; she doesn't need to be in a relationship with a man. On her part, she thinks it's just a ruthless experiment. It's just a way to turn men on It's as fun as killing each other. She has to try her hand at this. She's the kind of woman who won't quarrel with others in her life-but wherever she is, there will be chaos! She will find a way to make it She's kind of feminine. She's gotta have something exciting to do. But she doesn't want to get herself involved. She's always on the sidelines - on the sidelines - with pride. Ah, you get it all Do I mean?" "Madame, perhaps I know more than you do," said Poirot. I could not hear the meaning in his tone.What he said didn't sound like angry words—ah, I can't really explain it. Sheila Riley seemed to understand him, for she blushed. "Think what you will," she said, "but I'm right about what I said about her. She's a smart woman. She's bored, so she wants to use somebody else—as an experiment—as if they used Like a chemical experiment. She likes to play with Jensen's emotions, to see her suffer, to see her struggle to control herself, to use her as a good tease; —she can really do it, every time. She likes to pry people's secrets and scare people, ah, I don't mean she blackmails people in a rude way-I mean she just, just called It was understood that she knew the secret—so that one was not sure what she was going to do about it. But, alas, that woman is an artist! Her methods are not at all Zulu!" "And what about her husband?" asked Poirot. "She never wanted to hurt him," said Miss Riley slowly. "I never saw her being unkind to him. I think she liked him, and he was a lovely fellow--always put his head down." In his own little world - tirelessly digging and studying his theories. And he adores her as a perfect woman. That might make some women impatient, but not hers , in a sense, he's living in a fool's circle--but, it's not a fool's paradise, because she's who he thinks she is. But that's hard to reconcile with the other thing-- —” Her words stopped suddenly. "Go on, madam," said Poirot. She turned around suddenly and said to me. "What did you say about Richard Jarley?" "About Mr. Garrett?" I asked in surprise. "About her and Jared?" "Oh," I said, "I mentioned they didn't get along very well—" To my surprise, she burst out laughing. "Not getting on very well! He's completely succumbed to her skirts. And, besides, it's getting on his nerves—because he adores Leidner too. He's been with his friend for years. Of course, such a She's content to come. She's made it a priority to get involved in their friendship, but I still want to—" "what?" She was frowning, lost in thought. "I think she's gone too far this time--I think she's not only hurting, but hurting this time! Jared is beautiful. He's downright beautiful. She's a hard devil-- —However, I believe that in his presence, her coldness may have been wiped out." "I think what you're saying is pure slander," I exclaimed. "Why, they barely speak to each other!" "Oh, do you?" she lashed out at me. "You know so much. They're called 'Mr. Garley' and 'Mrs. Leidner' at home, but they see each other often outside.She often followed that path to the river.He tends to leave the excavation site for an hour at a time.They often meet in the orchard. "Once I saw him just parting from her, and striding back to the excavation site. She was standing there watching him go from behind. I'm not a proper lady. I had my binoculars with me, and I took them out, Take a good look at her face. Ask me what I see and I can tell you that I believe she is very fond of Richard Jarley." She broke off abruptly and looked at Poirot. "Forgive me for interfering with your case." She gave a sudden wry grin, "but I thought you might want to understand the local situation correctly." Then, she walked out of the room with neat steps. "Mr. Poirot," I cried, "I don't believe a word she says!" He looked at me, then said with a smile (I thought his words were odd), "You can't deny, Miss Nurse, that Miss Riley has given us a little--revelation about this case."

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