“Would this be a good time for me to explain the rules of the Morality Game to Monsieur Poirot and Inspector Catchpool?” said Maddie.
“Not without Arnold,” Vivienne said. “He won’t want to miss any conversation about Christmas games.”
“It is a pity that Catchpool and I will miss this Morality Game, which sounds intriguing,” said Poirot. “We shall be in London for Christmas.”
Douglas frowned. “I was told you would both be with us until the beginning of January.”
“You were given incorrect information, I am afraid.”
“Vivienne, I do think someone should check on Arnold,” said Maddie.
“So do I,” said Poirot forcefully, and again I wondered what lay behind his unease.
“The son and heir could nip up, perhaps,” Maddie said pointedly to Jonathan. “Though come to think of it, there are two sons and heirs, are there not?”
“I certainly thought so,” said Douglas.
“So, really, it is not the definite but the indefinite article we should be using when we speak of such things, Jonnells,” said Maddie.
Janet threw her fork down on the table. “Will you ever stop causing trouble for no good reason?” she said to her sister.
“Will you?” Maddie fired back. In a high-pitched voice that I assumed was intended as a mockery of Janet’s, she said, “‘Oh, how terrible, I can see a courtyard, with windows on the other side of it. I’m not upset by life-destroying illness or death but a courtyard—well, that is the limit! Who could possibly endure having a courtyard outside their window?’”
“Girls, please desist from this nastiness immediately,” said my mother. “Enid, if you won’t tell them then I am afraid I will have to.”
“Sorry, Cynthia. Sorry, everyone,” said Maddie. “I apologize for having mentioned something as hellish anddisgustingly intolerable as a...courtyard.” She lowered her voice to a whisper for the last word. She and Douglas started to laugh.
Poirot looked as if he would have liked to know what this courtyard business was about. I was curious, too; one could hardly ask, however. No doubt it was some decades-old family argument.
Jonathan was looking at Douglas in apparent confusion. “I never said that I was our father’s only son.”
“‘The son and heir’ were your exact words,” said his brother. “Not ‘ason and heir.’ It was a tiny detail, and you hoped Maddie and I wouldn’t notice. Well, we did.”
Jonathan shook his head. “I said ‘the’ because, in that moment, I was thinking only about myself and Inspector Catchpool. He is a policeman. I am the son and heir. Do you see?”
“I don’t see how the ‘heir’ part is relevant at all,” said Maddie. “I find it fascinating that you did not simply say ‘son.’”
Vivienne stood up suddenly. “I will go!” she cried out: a howl of anguish. Everyone observed her in silence for a moment or two. Then she gathered herself and said in a matter-of-fact voice, “I will go and see what has become of Arnold,” as if that had been all she meant. Clearly she had found the bickering between her sons and their wives unbearable—in which case, why not say so? She would have had the silent support of most of the table. She was not a straightforward person, I thought; far from it.
“No, please, I will go, Vivienne.” Dr. Osgood rose to hisfeet. “Sit yourself down. Eat, for heaven’s sake. You are the person at this table most in need of sustenance. You’ve lost half your bodyweight since all this started.”
“Oh, nonsense, Robert,” Vivienne waved away his concern. “I shall be back in a minute or two—please do not wait for me. Excuse me, everybody.”
She left the room slowly. It was only once she had disappeared from sight that we all heard the speeding up of her footsteps, accompanied by the sound of stifled sobbing.
Chapter 9
The Courtyard View
Dr. Osgood drummed his fingers on the table. “Well done, Douglas and Jonathan.” He glowered at the two younger men.
“Thank you,” said Douglas smoothly. “For what am I being congratulated?”
“You are responsible for what just happened. You, Jonathan, Madeline and Janet.”
“I did warn them to stop,” my mother said with a sigh.
Douglas aimed a cold smile at her. “I am afraid your unblemished perfection of thought and deed is unattainable for some of us mere mortals, Cynthia. Yours too, Dr. Osgood. Speaking of which, how is your delightful fiancée? When is the special day again? Not too far off now, I dare say.”
