MURDER AT CHRISTMAS

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXVI, Issue 23259, 31 January 1939, Page 15

MURDER AT CHRISTMAS

By AGATHA CHRISTIE A mystery otory in wKicK Hercule Poirot appears again.

THE STORY SO FAR: On Christmas Eve Colonel Johnson, Chief Constable of Middleshire, went in response to a telephone call from Superintendent Sugden to investigate the murder of old Simeon Lee, diamond merchant millionaire. Johnson took with him his euest, Hercule Poirot. The victim's throat had been cut in a room where the door was locked on the inside and the windows wcro fastened. No trace of the murderer or his weapon could bo found, but a great deal of blood had been spilled about the disordered room. Simeon Leo had reported to the police the loss of a number of uncut diamonds he kept in his safe a short time before his death. Johnson questioned members of the family house-party. George Lee, Simeon's son, said he had just finished telephoning at the time of the crime. His wife, Magdalene, said she, too, was at the telephone. Harry Lee admitted that he was the prodigal son, just home after years abroad, and that at a family conference after tea that day Simeon had talked of altering his will after Christmas.

Harry and his brother Alfred (who with his wife Lydia lived with Simeon) were arguing in the dining-room after dinner when they heard the old man scream. Their brother David was at that time in the music-room with his wife, Hilda. Pilar Estravados, halfSpanish granddaughter of Simeon — told of the theft of the diamonds — said she suspected Horbury, the valet, who "listened at doors." Stephen Fair, house guest, son of Simeon's South African partner, said he was playing dance records in the ballroom — hoping Pilar would join him —when he "heard the rumpus." NOW READ ON . . . "I suppose you're on to all the obvious lines?" said Johnson to Sugden when Stephen Farr had left the room. Superintendent Sugden checked off on his fingers. When he had finished Poirot said, "I find the superintendent admirably thorough." Sugden said gloomily:' "It won't be any joke looking through this house for the missing diamonds. Never saw so many ornaments, and knick-knacks in my life." "The hiding places are certainly abundant," Poirot agreed. "And there's really nothing you would suggest, Poirot?" Poirot said: "You will permit that I take a line of my own?" "Certainly—certainly," said Johnson, at the same moment as Superintendent Sugden said rather suspiciously: "What line?" "I would like, caid Hercule Poirot, "to converse—very often—very frequently—with members of the family." "Why?" asked Sugden. "In conversation, points arise! If a human being converses much, it is impossible for him to avoid the truth!" Sugden said: "Then you think someone is lying?" Poirot sighed. "Mon cher, every one lies—in parts, like the egg of the English curate. It is profitable to separate the harmless lies from the vital ones." Colonel Johnson said sharply: "All the same, it's incredible, you know. Here's a particularly crude and brutal murder —and whom have we as suspects? Alfred Leo and his wife —both charming, well-bred, quiet people. George Lee. who's a member of Parliament and the essence of respectability. His wife? She's just an ordinary modern lovely. David Lee seems a gentle creature and we've got his brother Harry's word for it that he can't stand "the sight of blood. His wife seems a nice, sensible woman—quite commonplace. Remains the Spanish niece and the man from South Africa. Spanish beauties have hot tempers, but I don't see that attractive creature slitting the old man's neck in cold blood, especially as, from what has come out, she had every reason to keep him alive —at any rate until he had signed a new will. Stephen Farr's a possibility —that is to say, he may be a professional crook and have come hero after the diamonds. The old man discovered the loss and Farr slit his throat to keep him quiet. That could havo been so —that gramophone alibi isn't too good." Poirot shook his head. "My dear friend," he said. "Compare the physique of M. Stephen Farr and old Simeon Lee. If Farr decided to kill tho old man he could have done it in a minute —Simeon Lee could lit possibly have put up that light against him. Can 0110 believe that that frail old man and that magnificent specimen of humanity struggled for some minutes overturning chairs and breaking china? To imagine such a thing is fantastic!" Colonel Johnson's eyes narrowed. "You mean," he said, "that it was a weak man who killed Simeon Lee?" "Or a woman!" said the superintendent. Colonel Johnson looked at his watch. "Nothing much more that I can do here. You've got things well in hand, Sugden. Oh, just one thing. We ought to see the butler fellow." Tressilian came in slowly. The Chief Constable told him to sit down. "Thank you, sir. I will if you don't mind. I've been feeling very queer—very queer indeed. My legs, sir, and my head." Poirot said gently: "You have had the shock, yes?"

The butler l shuddered. "Such —such a violent thing to happen. In this house! Where everything has always gone on so quietly."

Poirot said: "It was a well-ordered house, yesr' But not a happy one:'" "I wouldn't like to say that, sir. "In the old days, when all the family was at home, was it happy then?" Tressilian said slowly: "It wasn't perhaps, what one would call very harmonious, sir." "The late Mrs. Lee wns somewhat of an invalid, was she not?" "Yes, sir, very poorly she was." "Were her children fond of her?" "Mr. David, ho was devoted to her. Moro like a daughter than a son. And after she died he broke away, couldn't face living here any longer."

Poirot said: "And Mr. Harry? What was ho like?" "Always rather a wild young gentleman, sir, but good-liearted. Oh dear, gavo mo quite a turn it did, when the bell rang—and then again, so impatient like, and I opened the door and there was a strange man, and then Mr. Harry's voice said: 'Hullo, Tressilian. Still 'here, eh?' Just the same as ever." Poirot said sympathetically: "It must have been the strange feeling, yes, indeed." Tressilian said, a little pink flush showing in his cheek: "It seems sometimes, sir, as though the past isn't the past! I believe there's been a play on in London about something like that. There's something in it, sir—there really is. There's a feeling comes over you—as though

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you'd done everything before. It just seems to me as though the rings and I go to answer it and there's Mr. Harry—even if it should be Mr. Farr or some other person —I'm just saying to myself—but I've done this before. ..." _ . Johnson, somewhat impatient, cleared his throat, and took charge of the conversation. "Just want to get various times checked correctly," he said. "Now when tho noise upstairs started I understand that only Mr. Alfred Lee and Mr. Harry Leo were in tho diningroom. Is that so?" "I really couldn't tell you, sir. All tho gentlemen were there when I served coffee to them —but that would about a quarter of an hour earlier. "Mr. George Lee was telephoning. Can you confirm that?" "I think somebody did telephone, sir. The bell rings in my pantry, and when anybody takes off the receiver to call a number there's just a faint noise on tho bell. I do remember hearing that, but I didn't pay any attention to it." "You don't know exactly When it was?" "I couldn't say, sir. It was after I had taken coffee to tho gentlemen, that is all I can say." ".Do you know where any _of tie ladies were at the time I mentioned?" "Mrs. Alfred was in the drawingroom, sir, when I went for the coffee tray. That was just a minuto or two before I heard the cry upstairs." Poirot asked: "What was she doing?" "She was standing by the far window, sir. She was holding the curtain a little back and looking out." "And none of the other ladies were in tho room?" "No, sir." "Do you know where they were?" "I couldn't say at all, sir." "You don't know where anyone else was?" "Mr. David, I think, was playing in tho music room next door to the drawing-room." "You heard him playing?" "Yes, sir." Again the old man shivered. "It was like a sign, sir. so I felt afterwards. It was the 'Dead March' he was playing. Even at the time, I remember, it gave me the creeps." "it is curious, yes," said Poirot. "Now - about this fellow, Horbury, the valet," said the Chief Constable. "Are you definitely prepared to swear that he was out of the house by eight o'clock?"

"Oh, yes, sir. It was just after Mr. Sugden, here f.rrived. I remember particularly, because he broke a coffee cup." Poirot said: "Horbury broke a coffee cup?" "Yes, sir—one of the old Worcester ones. Eleven years I've washed them up and never one broken till this evening." Poirot said: "What was Horbury doing with the coffee cups?" "Well, of course, sir. he'd no business to have been handling them at all. He was just holding one up, admiring it, like, and I happened to mention that Mr. Sugden had called and he dropped it." Poirot said: "Did you say 'Mr. Sugden,' or did you mention the word 'police'?" Tressilian looked a little startled. "Now I come to think of it, sir, I mentioned " that the Police-- Superintendent had called." "And Horbury dropped the coffee cup," said Poirot. (To be continued daily.)