Chapter 22 Section 10

Harry.Li swaggered into the room.Poirot stared at him for a moment, frowning, and he had the feeling that he had seen this man somewhere before, and he noticed his appearance: the high hooked nose, the haughty head and chin; and He realized that while Harry was a big guy and his dad was just a guy of average build, the two of them had a lot in common. He noticed something else too, that underneath his swagger, Harry Lee was nervous, and he covered it up with a brisk movement, but the anxiety was palpable. "Ah, gentlemen," said he, "what can I tell you?" Colonel Johnson said: "We would be very glad to have any clue you can give us as to what happened tonight."

"I don't know anything, it's scary and unexpected." Poirot said: "I suppose you have recently returned from abroad, Monsieur Lee?" Harry turned to him immediately. "Yes, set foot on English soil a week ago." Poirot said: "Have you been away for a long time?" Harry Lee lifted his chin and smiled: "You'll hear about it anyway—you'll be told soon enough that I'm a prodigal, gentlemen; I haven't set foot in this house for nearly twenty years gone." "But now that you are back, would you like to tell us why?" asked Poirot.

Prepared, Harry replied, still very candidly: "It's the same old fable, I'm tired of the pods the pigs eat - or else the pigs don't eat, I forget which fable it was. I'd like to change it." For a change, I thought a fattened calf would be nice. I got a letter from my father advising me to come back, and I followed his call and went home. That's what happened." Poirot said: "Are you visiting for a short time—or for a long time?" Harry said: "I'm coming home—forever!" "Is your father willing?" "The old man is very happy." He smiled again, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were charming. "The old man lived with Alfred very poorly! Alfred was a dull piece of wood--so respectable, but never a good company. My father was also a prodigal son in his youth, He wants me for his company."

"And your brother and his wife, are they glad you live here?" Poirot raised his eyebrows slightly as he asked the question. "Alfred? Alfred is blue with anger. Wonder how Lydia is? She might be annoyed for Alfred too, but I don't doubt her at all." It'll be nice in the end. I like Lydia, she's a delightful woman, and I'll get on well with Lydia, but Alfred is another matter." He added Laughed, "Alfred is always very jealous of me. He has always been a conscientious and good son who stays at home and has no self-motivation, but what does he get for it in the end? A good boy in the family gets It's always—a kick in the ass. Listen to me, gentlemen, there's no reward for virtue." He looked from one to the other.

"I hope you are not intimidated by my frankness, but anyway, this is the truth you want, and you will reveal all the scandals in this family. I'd better speak frankly about myself !I'm not particularly sad that my dad died - after all, I haven't seen the old guy since I was a lad - but he was my dad nonetheless, and he was Murder. I will do my best to revenge." He stroked his chin and looked at them, "People in our family are very keen on revenge. No one in the Li family will forget easily. I want Make sure the man who murdered my father is caught and hanged."

"I think you can trust us to do our best in this matter, Mr. Lee," said Sugden. "If you can't, I will bring him to justice with my own hands," Harry Lee said. The Chief of Police said sternly: "So do you know anything about the identity of the murderer, Mr. Lee?" Harry shook his head. "No," he said slowly, "no—I can't think of it. It's a very shocking thing, you know, because I've been thinking about it—and I don't think it can be A case committed by an outsider..." "Ah," said Sugden, nodding. "And if that's the case," said Harry Lee, "then someone in this house killed him...but which damn it could be? The servants can't be imagined. Tracylian never Been here since 1901. That retarded valet? He'd never do it in his life. Holbury, ah, he's a shameless fellow, but Tracylian told me he Out at that time. So what is your conclusion? Not counting Stephen Farr—why would he travel all the way from South Africa to murder a stranger he had never met? The family is gone. As far as I'm concerned, I can't think of who did it. Alfred? He adores his father. George? He has no brains. Davy? Man in the world, he would faint at the sight of his own fingers bleeding. Grandparents? Women don't cut a man's throat so cold-blooded. So who did it? If only I knew, but this It's too disturbing!"

Colonel Johnson cleared his throat--a highly official habit--and said: "When was the last time you saw your father tonight?" "After tea. He had just had a quarrel with Alfred--for my lord's sake. The old man was never at peace, and he was always trying to stir up trouble. It seems to me that's exactly what he does to people. Concealing the reason for my coming. Wanting to cause a commotion should I come unexpectedly, which is why he talked about amending the will." Poirot moved slightly.He whispered: "So your father mentioned his will?" "Yeah - in front of all of us, just like a cat watching how we reacted. He just told the lawyer to come and talk to him about it after Christmas."

Poirot asked: "What changes is he considering?" Harry Lee grinned: "He didn't tell us! Don't trust the old fox! I imagine - or I should say I hope - that this change is for my own good, and I think I was made to Removed. Now, I'm pretty sure, he's put me in again. It's an unpleasant shock to the others. And Pilar - he likes her a lot, and I think she'll have some too Good. Haven't you met her yet? My Spanish niece, she's very beautiful, Pilar - with the softness of the south - and the hard side. Wish I wasn't her uncle!" "You said your father liked her?"

Harry nodded. "She knows how to coax the old man, and sits with him all the time, and I bet she knows what she wants! Oh, he's dead now, and the will won't be changed for Pilar--n't mine, either, That's bad luck." He frowned, paused for a moment, and changed his tone again. "I digress. You want to know when was the last time I saw my father? Like I told you, after tea—probably a little after six. The old man was in good spirits— —maybe a little tired. I left him with Holbury, and haven't seen him since." "Where were you when he died?"

"In the dining room with Alfred. It wasn't an amicable after-dinner meeting. We were having a very sharp argument when we heard movement overhead and it sounded like there were ten men up there wrestling. And then poor old father screamed like a hog butcher, the sound made Alfred paralyzed, he just sat there with his mouth wide open. When I shook him completely awake We started running upstairs. The door was locked, and it took a lot of effort to break it open. I can't imagine how the damn door was locked. There was no one else in the room. My father, it would be hell if anyone could get out of the window!"

"The door was locked from the outside," said Superintendent Sugden. "What?" Harry's eyes widened. "But I swear the key is in there." Poirot said in a low voice: "You have noticed that, then?" Harry Lee said solemnly: "I pay attention to things, this is my habit." His sharp eyes flicked over the three of them one by one. "Is there anything else you would like to know, gentlemen?" Johnson shook his head. "Thank you, Mr. Lee, not now. Maybe you'd like to have the next family member here." "Of course I would." He walked to the door and walked away without looking back. These three people, you look at me, and I look at you. Colonel Johnson said, "Well, Sugden?" The Superintendent shook his head suspiciously. He said, "What is he afraid of? I wonder why?"