Part 15 (1/2)

'A chance burglar?' I asked sceptically. 'It seems to me, Meredith, that there are some very nasty possibilities.'

He said what did I really think? And I said, if he was sure he wasn't making a mistake, that probably Caroline had taken it to poison Elsa with-or that alternatively Elsa had taken it to get Caroline out of the way and straighten the path of true love.

Meredith twittered a bit. He said it was absurd and melodramatic and couldn't be true. I said: 'Well, the stuff's gone. What's your your explanation?' He hadn't any, of course. Actually thought just as I did, but didn't want to face the fact. explanation?' He hadn't any, of course. Actually thought just as I did, but didn't want to face the fact.

He said again: 'What are we to do?'

I said, d.a.m.ned fool that I was: 'We must think it over carefully. Either you'd better announce your loss, straight out when everybody's there, or else you'd better get Caroline alone and tax her with it. If you're convinced she's she's nothing to do with it, adopt the same tactics for Elsa.' He said: 'A girl like that! She couldn't have taken it.' I said I wouldn't put it past her. nothing to do with it, adopt the same tactics for Elsa.' He said: 'A girl like that! She couldn't have taken it.' I said I wouldn't put it past her.

We were walking up to the house as we talked. After that last remark of mine neither of us spoke for some few seconds. We were rounding the Battery garden again and I heard Caroline's voice.

I thought perhaps a three-handed row was going on, but actually it was Angela that they were discussing. Caroline was protesting. She said: 'It's very hard on the girl.' And Amyas made some impatient rejoinder. Then the door to the garden opened just as we came abreast of it. Amyas looked a little taken aback at seeing us. Caroline was just coming out. She said: 'Hallo, Meredith. We've been discussing the question of Angela's going to school. I'm not at all sure it's the right thing for her.' Amyas said: 'Don't fuss about the girl. She'll be all right. Good riddance.'

Just then Elsa came running down the path from the house. She had some sort of scarlet jumper in her hand. Amyas growled: 'Come along. Get back into the pose. I don't want to waste time.'

He went back to where his easel was standing. I noticed that he staggered a bit and I wondered if he had been drinking. A man might easily be excused for doing so with all the fuss and the scenes.

He grumbled.

'The beer here is red hot. Why can't we keep some ice down here?'

And Caroline Crale said: 'I'll send you down some beer just off the ice.'

Amyas grunted out: 'Thanks.'

Then Caroline shut the door of the Battery garden and came up with us to the house. We sat down on the terrace and she went into the house. About five minutes later Angela came along with a couple of bottles of beer and some gla.s.ses. It was a hot day and we were glad to see it. As we were drinking it Caroline pa.s.sed us. She was carrying another bottle and said she would take it down to Amyas. Meredith said he'd go, but she was quite firm that she'd go herself. I thought-fool that I was-that it was just her jealousy. She couldn't stand those two being alone down there. That was what had taken her down there once already with the weak pretext of arguing about Angela's departure.

She went off down that zigzag path-and Meredith and I watched her go. We'd still not decided anything, and now Angela clamoured that I should come bathing with her. It seemed impossible to get Meredith alone. I just said to him: 'After lunch.' And he nodded.

Then I went off bathing with Angela. We had a good swim-across the creek and back, and then we lay out on the rocks sunbathing. Angela was a bit taciturn and that suited me. I made up my mind that directly after lunch I'd take Caroline aside and accuse her point-blank of having stolen the stuff. No use letting Meredith do it-he'd be too weak. No, I'd tax her with it outright. After that she'd have to give it back, or even if she didn't she wouldn't dare use it. I was pretty sure it must be her on thinking things over. Elsa was far too sensible and hard-boiled a young woman to risk tampering with poisons. She had a hard head and would take care of her own skin. Caroline was made of more dangerous stuff-unbalanced, carried away by impulses and definitely neurotic. And still, you know, at the back of my mind was the feeling that Meredith might might have made a mistake. Or some servant might have been poking about in there and split the stuff and then not dared to own up. You see, poison seems such a melodramatic thing-you can't believe in it. have made a mistake. Or some servant might have been poking about in there and split the stuff and then not dared to own up. You see, poison seems such a melodramatic thing-you can't believe in it.

Not till it happens.

It was quite late when I looked at my watch, and Angela and I fairly raced up to lunch. They were just sitting down-all but Amyas, who had remained down in the Battery painting. Quite a normal thing for him to do-and privately I thought him very wise to elect to do it today. Lunch was likely to have been an awkward meal.

We had coffee on the terrace. I wish I could remember better how Caroline looked and acted. She didn't seem excited in any way. Quiet and rather sad is my impression. What a devil that woman was!

For it is a devilish thing to do, to poison a man in cold blood. If there had been a revolver about and she caught it up and shot him-well, that might have been understandable. But this cold, deliberate, vindictive poisoning.... And so calm and collected.

She got up and said she'd take his coffee to him in the most natural way possible. And yet she knew-she must have known-that by now she'd find him dead. Miss Williams went with her. I don't remember if that was at Caroline's suggestion or not. I rather think it was.

The two women went off together. Meredith strolled away shortly afterwards. I was just making an excuse to go after him, when he came running up the path again. His face was grey. He gasped out: 'We must get a doctor-quick-Amyas-'

I sprang up.

'Is he ill-dying?'

Meredith said: 'I'm afraid he's dead...'

We'd forgotten Elsa for the minute. But she let out a sudden cry. It was like the wail of a banshee.

She cried: 'Dead? Dead?...' And then she ran. I didn't know any one could move like that-like a deer-like a stricken thing. And like an avenging Fury, too.

Meredith panted out: 'Go after her. I'll telephone. Go after her. You don't know what she'll do.'

I did go after her-and it's as well I did. She might quite easily have killed Caroline. I've never seen such grief and such frenzied hate. All the veneer of refinement and education was stripped off. You could see her father and her father's mother and father had been millhands. Deprived of her lover, she was just elemental woman. She'd have clawed Caroline's face, torn her hair, hurled her over the parapet if she could. She thought for some reason or other that Caroline had knifed him. She'd got it all wrong-naturally.

I held her off, and then Miss Williams took charge. She was good, I must say. She got Elsa to control herself in under a minute-told her she'd got to be quiet and that we couldn't have this noise and violence going on. She was a tartar, that woman. But she did the trick. Elsa was quiet-just stood there gasping and trembling.

As for Caroline, so far as I am concerned, the mask was right off. She stood there perfectly quiet-you might have said dazed. But she wasn't dazed. It was her eyes gave her away. They were watchful-fully aware and quietly watchful. She'd begun, I suppose, to be afraid...

I went up to her and spoke to her. I said it quite low. I don't think either of the two women overheard.

I said: 'You d.a.m.ned murderess, you've killed my best friend.'

She shrank back. She said: 'No-oh no-he-he did it himself...'

I looked her full in the eyes. I said: 'You can tell that story-to the police.'

She did-and they didn't believe her.

End of Philip Blake's Statement.

Narrative of Meredith Blake Dear M. Poirot, As I promised you, I have set down in writing an account of all I can remember relating to the tragic events that happened sixteen years ago. First of all I would like to say that I have thought over carefully all you said to me at our recent meeting. And on reflection I am more convinced than I was before that it is in the highest degree unlikely that Caroline Crale poisoned her husband. It always seemed incongruous, but the absence of any other explanation and her own att.i.tude led me to follow, sheep-like, the opinion of other people and to say with them-that if she didn't do it, what explanation could there be?

Since seeing you I have reflected very carefully on the alternative solution presented at the time and brought forward by the defence at the trial. That is, that Amyas Crale took his own life. Although from what I knew of him that solution seemed quite fantastic at the time, I now see fit to modify my opinion. To begin with, and highly significant, is the fact that Caroline believed it. If we are now to take it that that charming and gentle lady was unjustly convicted, then her own frequently reiterated belief must carry great weight. She knew Amyas better than anyone else. If she she thought suicide possible, then suicide thought suicide possible, then suicide must must have been possible in spite of the scepticism of his friends. have been possible in spite of the scepticism of his friends.

I will advance the theory, therefore, that there was in Amyas Crale some core of conscience, some undercurrent of remorse and even despair at the excesses to which his temperament led him, of which only his wife was aware. This, I think, is a not impossible supposition. He may have shown that side of himself only to her. Though it is inconsistent with anything I ever heard him say, yet it is nevertheless a truth that in most men there is some unsuspected and inconsistent streak which often comes as a surprise to people who have known them intimately. A respected and austere man is discovered to have had a coa.r.s.er side to his life hidden. A vulgar money-maker has, perhaps, a secret appreciation of some delicate work of art. Hard and ruthless people have been convicted of unsuspected hidden kindnesses. Generous and jovial men have been shown to have a mean and cruel side to them.

So it may be that in Amyas Crale there ran a strain of morbid self-accusation, and that the more he bl.u.s.tered out his egoism and his right to do as he pleased, the more strongly that secret conscience of his worked. It is improbable, on the face of it, but I now believe that it must have been so. And I repeat again, Caroline herself held steadfastly to that view. That, I repeat, is significant!

And now to examine facts facts, or rather my memory of facts, in the light of that new belief.

I think that I might with relevance include here a conversation I held with Caroline some weeks before the actual tragedy. It was during Elsa Greer's first visit to Alderbury.

Caroline, as I have told you, was aware of my deep affection and friends.h.i.+p for her. I was, therefore, the person in whom she could most easily confide. She had not been looking very happy. Nevertheless I was surprised when she suddenly asked me one day whether I thought Amyas really cared very much for this girl he had brought down.

I said: 'He's interested in painting her. You know what Amyas is.'

She shook her head and said: 'No, he's in love with her.'

'Well-perhaps a little.'

'A great deal, I think.'

I said: 'She is unusually attractive, I admit. And we both know that Amyas is susceptible. But you must know by now, my dear, that Amyas really only cares for one person-and that is you. He has these infatuations-but they don't last. You are the one person to him, and though he behaves badly, it does not really affect his feeling for you.'