Hercule Poirot's Christmas / Рождество Эркюля Пуаро. Книга для чтения на английском языке

He said, and there was a wistful note in his voice: ‘It is true that your moustache is superb… Tell me, do you use for it a special pomade?’

‘Pomade? Good lord, no!’

‘What do you use?’

‘Use? Nothing at all. It – it just grows.’

Poirot sighed. ‘You are favoured by nature.[292]’ He caressed his own luxuriant black moustache, then sighed. ‘However expensive the preparation,’ he murmured, ‘to restore the natural colour does somewhat impoverish the quality of the hair.’

Superintendent Sugden, uninterested in hairdressing problems, was continuing in a stolid manner: ‘Considering the motive for the crime, I should say that we can probably wash out Mr Stephen Farr. It’s just possible that there was some hanky-panky between his father and Mr Lee and the former suffered, but I doubt it. Farr’s manner was too easy and assured when he mentioned that subject. He was quite confident – and I don’t think he was acting. No, I don’t think we’ll find anything there.’

‘I do not think you will,’ said Poirot.

‘And there’s one other person with a motive for keeping old Mr Lee alive – his son Harry. It’s true that he benefits under the will, but I don’t believe he was aware of the fact. Certainly couldn’t have been sure of it! The general impression seemed to be that Harry had been definitely cut out of his share of the inheritance at the time he cut loose[293]. But now he was on the point of coming back into favour! It was all to his advantage that his father should make a new will. He wouldn’t be such a fool as to kill him now. Actually, as we know, he couldn’t have done it. You see, we’re getting on; we’re clearing quite a lot of people out of the way.’

‘How true. Very soon there will be nobody left!’

Sugden grinned. ‘We’re not going as fast as that! We’ve got George Lee and his wife, and David Lee and Mrs David. They all benefit by the death, and George Lee, from all I can make out, is grasping about money[294]. Moreover, his father was threatening to cut down supplies. So we’ve got George Lee with motive and opportunity!’

‘Continue,’ said Poirot.

‘A n d we’ve got Mrs George! As fond of money as a cat is fond of cream; and I’d be prepared to bet she’s heavily in debt at the minute! She was jealous of the Spanish girl. She was quick to spot that the other was gaining an ascendancy over the old man[295]. She’d heard him say that he was sending for the lawyer. So she struck quickly. You could make out a case.’

‘Possibly.’

‘Then there’s David Lee and his wife. They inherit under the present will, but I don’t believe, somehow, that the money motive would be particularly strong in their case.’

‘No?’

‘No. David Lee seems to be a bit of a dreamer – not a mercenary type. But he’s – well, he’s odd. As I see it, there are three possible motives for this murder: There’s the diamond complication, there’s the will, and there’s – well – just plain hate.’

‘Ah, you see that, do you?’

Sugden said: ‘Naturally. It’s been present in my mind all along. If David Lee killed his father, I don’t think it was for money. And if he was the criminal it might explain the – well, the blood-letting!’

Poirot looked at him appreciatively. ‘Yes, I wondered when you would take that into consideration. So much blood – that is what Mrs Alfred said. It takes one back to ancient rituals – to blood sacrifice, to the anointing with the blood of the sacrifice…’

Sugden said, frowning: ‘You mean whoever did it was mad?’

‘Mon cher – there are all sorts of deep instincts in man of which he himself is unaware. The craving for blood – the demand for sacrifice!’

Sugden said doubtfully: ‘David Lee looks a quiet, harmless fellow.’

Poirot said: ‘You do not understand the psychology. David Lee is a man who lives in the past – a man in whom the memory of his mother is still very much alive. He kept away from his father for many years because he could not forgive his father’s treatment of his mother. He came here, let us suppose, to forgive. But he may not have been able to forgive… We do know one thing – that when David Lee stood by his father’s dead body, some part of him was appeased and satisfied. “The mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small.” Retribution! Payment! The wrong wiped out by expiation!’

Sugden gave a sudden shudder. He said: ‘Don’t talk like that, Mr Poirot. You give me quite a turn. It may be that it’s as you say. If so, Mrs David knows – and means to shield him all she knows how[296]. I can imagine her doing that. On the other hand, I can’t imagine her being a murderess. She’s such a comfortable commonplace sort of woman.’

Poirot looked at him curiously. ‘So she strikes you like that?’ he murmured.

‘Well, yes – a homely body, if you know what I mean!’

‘Oh, I know what you mean perfectly!’

Sugden looked at him. ‘Come, now, Mr Poirot, you’ve got ideas about the case. Let’s have them.’

Poirot said slowly: ‘I have ideas, yes, but they are rather nebulous. Let me first hear your summing-up of the case.’