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thrown on the floor.
When I'd found it and got back I couldn't see him at first. But at last I caught sight of him. He was
sitting a little way from the mound talking to Mr. Carey. Mr. Carey's boy was standing near with that
great big rod thing with metres marked on it, but just at that moment he said something to the boy and
the boy took it away. It seemed he had finished with it for the time being.
I'd like to get this next bit quite clear. You see, I wasn't quite sure what M. Poirot did or didn't want me
to do. He might, I mean, have sent me back for that handkerchief on purpose. To get me out of the way.
It was just like an operation over again. You've got to be careful to hand the doctor just what he wants
and not what he doesn't want. I mean, suppose you gave him the artery forceps at the wrong moment,
and were late with them at the right moment! Thank goodness I know my work in the theatre well
enough. I'm not likely to make mistakes there. But in this business I was really the rawest of raw little
probationers. And so I had to be particularly careful not to make any silly mistakes.
Of course, I didn't for one moment imagine that M. Poirot didn't want me to hear what he and Mr. Carey
were saying. But he might have thought he'd get Mr. Carey to talk better if I wasn't there.
Now I don't want anybody to get it into their heads that I'm the kind of woman who goes about
eavesdropping on private conversations. I wouldn't do such a thing. Not for a moment. Not however
much I wanted to.
And what I mean is if it had been a private conversation I wouldn't for a moment have done what, as a
matter of fact, I actually did do.
As I looked at it I was in a privileged position. After all, you hear many a thing when a patient's coming
round after an anaesthetic. The patient wouldn't want you to hear it - and usually has no idea you have
heard it - but the fact remains you do hear it. I just took it that Mr. Carey was the patient. He'd be none
the worse for what he didn't know about. And if you think that I was just curious, well, I'll admit that I
was curious. I didn't want to miss anything I could help.
All this is just leading up to the fact that I turned aside and went by a round - about way up behind the
big dump until I was a foot from where they were, but concealed from them by the corner of the dump.
And if anyone says it was dishonourable I just beg to disagree. Nothing ought to be hidden from the
Nurse in charge of the case, though, of course, it's the doctor to say what shall be done.
I don't know, of course, what M. Poirot's line of approach had been, but by the time I'd got there he was
aiming straight for the bull' s eye, so to speak.
"Nobody appreciates Dr. Leidner's devotion to his wife more than I do," he was saying. "But it is often
the case that one learns more about a person from their enemies than from their friends."
"You suggest that their faults are more important than their virtues?" said Mr. Carey. His tone was dry
and ironic.
"Undoubtedly - when it comes to murder. It seems odd that as far as I know nobody has yet been
murdered for having too perfect a character! And yet perfection is undoubtedly an irritating thing."
"I'm afraid I'm hardly the right person to help you," said Mr. Carey. "To be perfectly honest, Mrs.
Leidner and I didn't hit it off particularly well. I don't mean that we were in any sense of the word
enemies, but we were not exactly friends. Mrs. Leidner was, perhaps, a shade jealous of my old
friendship with her husband. I, for my part, although I admired her very much and thought she was an
extremely attractive woman, was just a shade resentful of her influence over Leidner. As a result we
were quite polite to each other, but not intimate."
"Admirably explained," said Poirot.
I could just see their heads, and I saw Mr. Carey's turn sharply as though something in M. Poirot's
detached tone struck him disagreeably.
M. Poirot went on:
"Was not Dr. Leidner distressed that you and his wife did not get on together better?"
Carey hesitated a minute before saying:
"Really - I'm not sure. He never said anything. I always hoped he didn't notice it. He was very wrapped
up in his work, you know."
"So the truth, according to you, is that you did not really like Mrs. Leidner?"
Carey shrugged his shoulders.
"I should probably have liked her very much if she hadn't been Leidner's wife."
He laughed as though amused by his own statement.
Poirot was arranging a little heap of broken potsherds. He said in a dreamy, far-away voice:
"I talked to Miss Johnson this morning. She admitted that she was prejudiced against Mrs. Leidner and
did not like her very much, although she hastened to add that Mrs. Leidner had always been charming to
her."
"All quite true, I should say," said Carey.
"So I believed. Then I had a conversation with Mrs. Mercado. She told me at great length how devoted
she had been to Mrs. Leidner and how much she had admired her."
Carey made no answer to this, and after waiting a minute or two Poirot went on:
"That - I did not believe! Then I come to you and that which you tell me - well, again - I do not
believe..."
Carey stiffened. I could hear the anger - repressed anger - in his voice. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]