I willed her to stop talking and go away. She had neverbefore reminded me of her mother, but now that Enid was happy and more loquacious, I detected a distinct similarity of manner between the two women.
Eventually Maddie took her ecstatic delusions elsewhere and I groaned in gratitude. Then I heard more footsteps and prepared to look casual and carefree in accordance with Poirot’s instructions; this might be my quarry approaching. My heart turned to lead in my chest when I saw Mother striding toward me. “Edward! There you are!”
I cannot relate what passed between us with any degree of accuracy, so I shall omit a detailed recreation of this scene from my account of the Norfolk murders; it is scarcely relevant. All I can tell you is that, within seconds of Mother staring to speak, I was so angry that I could see only a red blur and all the sounds I heard were reduced to a buzzing noise in my ears, as if someone were drilling into my brain. The distasteful encounter ended with me telling Mother the truth for once in my life and her sobbing and running away. I ought to have been triumphant, but instead I felt (with no justification at all, I might add) as if someone—Mother, come to think of it—had tried to kill me.
Despite this, I remained in place in the wall recess, and finally I was rewarded: I spotted my quarry walking in my direction, and I prepared to play my part in what would doubtless turn out to be a very odd scene indeed.
Chapter 33
Mission Accomplished
“Mission successfully accomplished,” I told Poirot when I found him half an hour later on the second-floor landing outside our bedrooms. “Though Mother nearly ruined everything, as she so often does. She found me lurking and assumed I had nothing important to do and was available to be hectored.”
“Did she hector?” Poirot asked.
I nodded. “She started on at me about Christmas again—how thrilling it was that we would be able to spend the day together for once, and had I thought of who I was going to nominate for the Morality Game as the worst person ever? ‘And what about Poirot? Who will he nominate?’ she wanted to know, as if there was nothing to think about but fun and games. She said your name quite cheerily, as if she had not poisoned you a mere three days ago. Never mind the fact that anyone in this house on Christmas Day is unlikely to play any games at all. It was as if Mother had forgotten that a murder was committed here last night.I am afraid I lost the whole of my temper. I cannot remember raising my voice and bellowing at her ever before, but that is what I did.”
“Do you feel better for having done so?” Poirot asked.
“No. Worse. But I am pleased, at least, to have been honest with her, finally. I told her that if by some rotten luck Ididend up spending Christmas under this roof with her, that would be a side-effect and not something I had chosen on purpose. She started to cry. I have not seen her cry for years. I probably should have left it at that, but I did not.”
“Ah,” said Poirot enigmatically.
“I explained to her my ‘Now that it’s there’ theory of Christmas tree decoration and told her that the same applied to this situation.Now that I am here—to help you solve two murders, Poirot, and for no other reason—I might have to end up enduring Christmas Day in Mother’s company, but only because I would have no alternative, because I would find myself in this house and there would, sadly, be no other choice available to me.”
My friend watched me carefully. He said nothing.
“Oh, damn it all to hell,” I cried. “I shall have to apologize to her for being unnecessarily cruel, shan’t I? Even though she is a poisoner. Still, I should not have said those things. Though they are all quite true.” I felt embarrassed and wished I had not told Poirot about any of it. “Where have you been, anyway?” I asked him. “I looked for you in the library, but you had vanished.”
“Moved,mon ami, not vanished. I do move occasionally,you know—sometimes even when not compelled to do so by you.”
I smiled. “When I couldn’t find you, I telephoned Sergeant Wight. As a result, I now know who at Frellingsloe House is claiming to be someone they are not. It is—”
“Silence!” said Poirot. “Allow me, instead, to tell you. But wait—not here on the landing.” He opened his bedroom door and went in, beckoning for me to follow. Once we were inside, he closed the door, then tested that it was securely shut.
Lowering his voice, he proceeded to explain to me the very same astonishing circumstances that I had been on the point of relaying to him.
“Sergeant Wight did not mention that you had spoken to him already,” I said, peeved to have been deprived of the chance to deliver the news.
“I have spoken to nobody at Scotland Yard.” Poirot sounded offended. “I discovered the correct answer thanks to my own observations. Now, allow me to tell you what was the reaction to the little speech I made you commit to memory—the terrible accident of many years ago, or perhaps the terrible crime.”
“You have worked that out too? Go on, then—impress me again.”
“Puzzlement was the response,n’est-ce pas? A complete and utter lack of comprehension. ‘What accident? What crime? I do not know what you are talking about!’ Am I right?”
“Exactly that.”
“Bon.”
“Poirot, please tell me that this means you know who the murderer is. And if you do, please can you pass on the relevant information to Inspector Mackle without delay, so that we can go back to London? I am not asking you to tell me—that can come later; Lord knows I have waited to be enlightened many times before—but please, at the very least, tell Mackle so that we can pack our cases and get out of here today.”
“I shall tell everybody at the same time,” he said. “It is the most efficient way, and the way I prefer to do it. And, Catchpool, you of all people... How is it that you need me to give you the answer? As soon as you had spoken to Sergeant Wight on the telephone, you knew all the same facts that I know. You are in the happy position of being able to solve the puzzle yourself.”
I groaned.
“You can,mon ami. All the pieces are now clearly revealed. You need only assemble them in the correct order. Put the little grey cells of Edward Catchpool to work! Though not before you have assembled everybody so that I can speak to them all together—and not only those who live in this house, please. Also Nurses Olga Woodruff, Bee Haskins and Zillah Hunt, and Mademoiselle Verity Hunt, the owner of Duluth Cottage. Not Dr. Wall—there is no need for him to be present. Inspector Mackle and his men will want to be there, naturally.”
“Then... you are ready?” I said.
