Part 39 (1/2)
Battle nodded his head.
”That's true enough. Incredibly stupid. The pitcher goes to the well time after time. Well, I think between us we've arrived fairly clearly at the truth. Anne Meredith was caught stealing. Anne Meredith changed a bottle from one shelf to another. We know that was murder but I'm d.a.m.ned if we could ever prove it.
Successful crime No. 2. Roberts gets away with it. Anne Meredith gets away with it. But what about Shaitana? Did Anne Meredith kill Shaitana?”
He remained silent for a moment or two, then he shook his head.
”It doesn't work out right,” he said reluctantly. ”She's not one to take a risk.
Change a couple of bottles, yes. She knew no one could fasten that on her. It was absolutely safe---because any one might have done it! Of course, it mightn't have worked. Mrs. Benson might have noticed before she drank the stuff, or she mightn't have died from it. It was what I call a hopeful kind of murder. It might work or it mightn't. Actually, it did. But Shaitana was a very different pair of shoes.
That was deliberate, audacious, purposeful murder.”
Poirot nodded his head.
”I agree with you. The two types of crime are not the same.”
Battle rubbed his nose.
”So that seems to wipe her out as far as he's concerned. Roberts and the girl, both crossed off our list. What about Despard? Any luck with the Luxmore woman?”
Poirot narrated his adventures of the preceding afternoon.
Battle grinned.
”I know that type. You can't disentangle what they remember from what they invent.”
Poirot went on. He described Despard's visit, and the story the latte{ had
told.
”Believe him?” Battle asked abruptly.
”Yes, I do.”
Battle sighed.
”So do I. Not the type to shoot a man because he wanted the man's wife.
Anyway, what's wrong with the divorce court? Every one flocks there. And he's not a professional man; it wouldn't ruin him, or anything like that. No, I'm of the opinion that our late lamented Mr. Shaitana struck a snag there. Murderer No. 3
wasn't a murderer, after all.”
He looked at Poirot.
”That leaves--?”
474
”Mrs. Lorrimer,” said Poirot.
The telephone rang. Poirot got up and answered it. He spoke a few words, waited, spoke again. Then he hung up the receiver and returned to Battle.
His face was very grave.
”That was Mrs. Lorrimer speaking,” he said. ”She wants me to come round and see her--now.”
He and Battle looked at each other. The latter shook his head slowly. ”Am I wrong?” he said. ”Or were you expecting something of the kind?” ”I wondered,” said Hercule Poirot. ”That was all. I wondered.”
”You'd better get along,” said Battle. ”Perhaps you'll manage to get at the truth at last.”
CHAPTER 25
Mrs. Lorrimer Speaks
The day was not a bright one, and Mrs. Lorrimer's room seemed rather dark and cheerless. She herself had a grey look, and seemed much older than she had done on the occasion of Poirot's last visit.
She greeted him with her usual smiling a.s.surance.