“I’ve no doubt there’s an equal choice of devious ways inside the law,” he said agreeably. “You should know.”
“By whom was the will witnessed? I mean the one made on April 21st?”
“Purvis brought down his clerk and the second witness was the gardener.”
“It was signed then in Mr. Purvis’s presence?”
“It was.”
“And Mr. Purvis, I fancy, is a man of the highest respectability?”
“Purvis, Purvis, Charlesworth and once more Purvis are just about as respectable and impeccable as the Bank of England,” said Charles.
“He didn’t like making the will,” said Theresa. “In an ultracorrect fashion I believe he even tried to dissuade Aunt Emily from making it.”
Charles said sharply:
“Did he tell you that, Theresa?”
“Yes. I went to see him again yesterday.”
“It’s no good, my sweet—you ought to realize that. Only piles up the six and eightpences.”
Theresa shrugged her shoulders.
Poirot said:
“I will ask you to give me as much information as you can about the last weeks of Miss Arundell’s life. Now, to begin with, I understand that you and your brother and also Dr. Tanios and his wife stayed there for Easter?”
“Yes, we did.”
“Did anything happen of significance during that weekend?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Nothing? But I thought—”
Charles broke in.
“What a self-centred creature you are, Theresa. Nothing of significance happened to you! Wrapped in love’s young dream! Let me tell you, M. Poirot, that Theresa has a blue-eyed boy in Market Basing. One of the local sawbones. She’s got rather a faulty sense of proportion in consequence. As a matter of fact, my revered aunt took a header down the stairs and nearly passed out. Wish she had. It would have saved all this fuss.”
“She fell down the stairs?”
“Yes, tripped over the dog’s ball. Intelligent little brute left it at the top of the stairs and she took a header over it in the night.”
“This was—when?”
“Let me see—Tuesday—the evening before we left.”
“Your aunt was seriously injured?”
“Unfortunately she didn’t fall on her head. If she had we might have pleaded softening of the brain—or whatever it’s called scientifically. No, she was hardly hurt at all.”
Poirot said drily:
“Very disappointing for you!”
“Eh? Oh, I see what you mean. Yes, as you say, very disappointing. Tough nuts, these old ladies.”