Part 13 (2/2)

”Did you know, Mr. Arundell, that Dr.

Tanios came down to see your aunt on the Sunday before she died?” ”What--on the Sunday that we were there?” ”Yes. You did not see him?” ”No. We were out for a walk in the afternoon.

I suppose he must have come then.

Funny that Aunt Emily didn't mention his visit. Who told you?” ”Miss Lawson.” I ”Lawson again?

She seems to be a mine of information.” He paused and then said: ”You know, Tanios is a nice fellow. I like him. Such a jolly, smiling chap.” ”He has an attractive personality, yes,” said Poirot.

Charles rose to his feet.

”If I'd been him I'd have murdered the dreary Bella years ago! Doesn't she strike you as the type of woman who is marked out by fate to be a victim? You know, I should never be surprised if bits of her turned up in a trunk at Margate or somewhere!” ”It is not a pretty action that you attribute there to her husband the good doctor,” said Poirot severely.

”No,” said Charles meditatively. ”And I don't think really that Tanios would hurt a fly. He's much too kindhearted.” ”And what about you? Would you do murder if it were made worth your while?” Charles laughed--a ringing, genuine laugh.

”Thinking about a spot of blackmail, M.

Poirot? Nothing doing. I can a.s.sure you that I didn't put”--he stopped suddenly and then went on--”strychnine in Aunt Emily's soup.” With a careless wave of his hand he departed.

”Were you trying to frighten him, Poirot?” I asked. ”If so, I don't think you succeeded. He showed no guilty reactions whatsoever.” ”No?” ”No. He seemed quite unruffled.” ”Curious that pause he made,” said Poirot.

”A pause?” ”Yes. A pause before the word strychnine.

Almost as though he had been about to say something else and thought better of it.” I shrugged my shoulders.

”He was probably thinking of a good, venomous-sounding poison.” ”It is possible. It is possible.

But let us set off. We will, I think, stay the night at The George in Market Basing.” Ten minutes later saw us speeding through London, bound once more for the country.

We arrived in Harchester about four o'clock and made our way straight to the offices of Pur vis.

Pur vis, Charlesworth and Pur vis.

Mr. Pur vis was a big, solidly built man with white hair and a rosy complexion. He had a little thelook of a country squire. His manner was courteous but reserved.

He read the letter we had brought and then looked at us across the top of his desk.

It was a shrewd look and a somewhat searching one.

”I know you by name, of course, M.

Poirot,” he said politely. ”Miss Arundell and her brother have, I gather, engaged your services in this matter, but exactly in what capacity you propose to be of use to them I am at a loss to imagine.” ”Shall we say, Mr. Purvis, a fuller investigation of all the circ.u.mstances?” The lawyer said drily: ”Miss Arundell and her brother have already had my opinion as to the legal position.

The circ.u.mstances were perfectly clear and admit of no misrepresentation.” ”Perfectly, perfectly,” said Poirot quickly.

”But you will not, I am sure, object to Just repeating them so that I can envisage the situation clearly.” The lawyer bowed his head.

”I am at your service.” Poirot began: ”Miss Arundell wrote to you giving you instructions on the seventeenth of April, I believe?” Mr. Pur vis consulted some papers on the table before him.

”Yes, that is correct.” ”Can you tell me what she said?” ”She asked me to draw up a will. There were to be legacies to two servants and to three or four charities. The rest other estate was to pa.s.s to Wilhelmina Lawson absolutely.”

”You will pardon me, Mr. Pur vis, but you were surprised?” ”I will admit that--yes, I was surprised.” ”Miss Arundell had made a will previously?”

”Yes, she had made a will five years ago.” ”That will, after certain small legacies, left her property to her nephew and nieces?” ”The bulk of her estate was to be divided equally between the children of her brother Thomas and the daughter of Arabella Biggs, her sister.” ”What has happened to that will?” ”At Miss ArundelFs request I brought it with me when I visited her at Littlegreen House on April 21st.” ”I should be much obliged to you, Mr.

Pur vis, if you would give me a full descnption of everything that occurred on that occasion.”

The lawyer paused for a minute or two.

Then he said, very precisely: ”I arrived at Littlegreen House at three o'clock in the afternoon. One of my clerks accompanied me. Miss Arundell received me in the drawing-room.” ”How did she look to you?” ”She seemed to me in good health in spite of the fact that she was walking with a stick.

That, I understand, was on account of a fall she had recently. Her general health, as I say, seemed good. She struck me as slightly nervous and over-excited in manner.” ”Was Miss Lawson with her?” ”She was with her when I arrived. But she left us immediately.” ”And then?” ”Miss Arundell asked me if I had done what she had asked me to do, and if I had brought the new will with me for her to sign.

”I said I had done so. I--er--” He hesitated for a minute or two, then went on stiffly: ”I may aswell say that, as far as it was proper for me to do so, I remonstrated with Miss Arundell. I pointed out to her that this new will might be regarded as grossly unfair to her family who were, after all, her own flesh and blood.” ”And her answer?” ”She asked me if the money was or was not her own to do with as she liked. I replied that certainly that was the case. 'Very well then 5' she said. I reminded her that she had known this Miss Lawson a very short time, and I asked her if she was quite sure that the injustice she was doing to her own family was legitimate. Her reply was, 'My dear friend, I know perfectly what I am doing.5 ” ”Her manner was excited, you say.” ”I think I can definitely say that it was, but understand me, M. Poirot, she was in full possession of her faculties. She was in every sense of the word fully competent to manage her own affairs. Though my sympathies are entirely with Miss ArundelFs family, I should be obliged to maintain that in any court of law.” ”That is quite understood. Proceed, I pray of you.” ”Miss Arundell read through her existing will. Then she stretched out her hand for the one I had had drawn up. I may say that I would have preferred to submit a draft first, but she had impressed upon me that the will must be brought her ready to sign.

That presented no difficulties as its provisions were so simple. She read it through, nodded her head, and said she would sign it straightaway. I felt it my duty to enter one last protest. She heard me out quite patiently, but said that her mind was quite made up. I called in my clerk and he and the gardener acted as witnesses to her signature.

The servants, of course, were ineligible owing to the fact that they were beneficiaries under the will.” ”And afterwards, did she entrust the will to you for safekeeping?” ”No, she placed it in a drawer of her desk, which drawer she locked.” ”What was done with the original will?

Did she destroy it?” ”No, she locked it away with the other.” ”After her death, where was the will found?” ”In that same drawer. As executor I had her keys and went through her papers and business doc.u.ments.” ”Were both wills in the drawer?” ”Yes, exactly as she had placed them there.” ”Did you question her at all as to the motive for this rather surprising action?” ”I did. But I got no satisfactory answer.

She merely a.s.sured me that 'she knew what she was doing.' ” ”Nevertheless you were surprised at the proceeding?” ”Very surprised. Miss Arundell, I should say, had always shown herself to have a strong sense of family feeling.” Poirot was silent a minute, then he asked: ”You did not, I suppose, have any conversation with Miss Lawson on the subject?” ”Certainly not. Such a proceeding would have been highly improper.” Mr. Pur vis looked scandalized at the mere suggestion.

”Did Miss Arundell say anything to indicate that Miss Lawson knew that a will was being drawn in her favour?” ”On the contrary. I asked her if Miss Lawson was aware of what was being done, and Miss Arundell snapped out that she knew nothing about it.

”It was advisable, I thought, that Miss Lawson should not be aware of what had happened. I endeavoured to hint as much and Miss Arundell seemed quite of my opinion.” ”Just why did you stress that point, Mr.

Purvis?” The old gentleman returned his glance with dignity.

”Such things, in my opinion, are best undiscussed.

Also it might have led to future disappointment.? ?”Ah!” Poirot drew a long breath. ”I take it that you thought it probable that Miss Arundell might change her mind in the near future?” The lawyer bowed his head.

”That is so. I fancied that Miss Arundell had had some violent altercation with her family. I thought if probable that when she cooled down she would repent of her rash decision.” ”In which case she would have done-- what?” ”She would have given me instructions to prepare a new will.” ”She might have taken the simpler course of merely destroying the will lately made, in which case the older will would have been good?” ”That is a somewhat debatable point. All earlier wills, you understand, had been definitely revoked by the testator.” ”But Miss Arundell would not have had the legal knowledge to appreciate that point.

She may have thought that by destroying the later will, the earlier one would stand.” ”It is quite possible.” 'Actually if she died intestate her money would pa.s.s to her family?” I ”Yes. One half to Mrs. Tanios, one half divisible between Charles and Theresa Arun- I dell. But the fact remains, however, that she did not change her mind! She died with her decision unchanged.” ”But that,”

said Poirot, ”is where I come in.”

The lawyer looked at him inquiringly.

Poirot leaned forward.

”Supposing,” he said, ”that Miss Arundell, on her deathbed, wished to destroy that will.

Supposing that she believed that she had destroyed it--but that, in reality, she only destroyed the first will.” Mr. Pur vis shook his head.

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