“I think I can definitely say that it was, but understand me, M. Poirot, she was in full possession of her faculties. She was in every sense of the word fully competent to manage her own affairs. Though my sympathies are entirely with Miss Arundell’s family, I should be obliged to maintain that in any court of law.”
“That is quite understood. Proceed, I pray you.”
“Miss Arundell read through her existing will. Then she stretched out her hand for the one I had had drawn up. I may say that I would have preferred to submit a draft first but she had impressed upon me that the will must be brought her ready to sign. That presented no difficulties as its provisions were so simple. She read it through, nodded her head and said she would sign it straightaway. I felt it my duty to enter one last protest. She heard me out patiently, but said that her mind was quite made up. I called in my clerk and he and the gardener acted as witnesses to her signature. The servants, of course, were ineligible owing to the fact that they were beneficiaries
under the will.”
“And afterwards, did she entrust the will to you for safekeeping?”
“No, she placed it in a drawer of her desk, which drawer she locked.”
“What was done with the original will? Did she destroy it?”
“No, she locked it away with the other.”
“After her death, where was the will found?”
“In that same drawer. As executor I had her keys and went through her papers and business documents.”
“Were both wills in the drawer?”
“Yes, exactly as she had placed them there.”
“Did you question her at all as to the motive for this rather surprising action?”
“I did. But I got no satisfactory answer. She merely assured me that ‘she knew what she was doing.’”
“Nevertheless you were surprised at the proceeding?”
“Very surprised. Miss Arundell, I should say, had always shown herself to have a strong sense of family feeling.”
Poirot was silent a minute, then he asked:
“You did not, I suppose, have any conversation with Miss Lawson on the subject?”
“Certainly not. Such a proceeding would have been highly improper.”
Mr. Purvis looked scandalized at the mere suggestion.
“Did Miss Arundell say anything to indicate that Miss Lawson knew that a will was being drawn in her favour?”
“On the contrary. I asked her if Miss Lawson was aware of what was being done, and Miss Arundell snapped out that she knew nothing about it.
“It was advisable, I thought, that Miss Lawson should not be aware of what had happened. I endeavoured to hint as much and Miss Arundell seemed quite of my opinion.”
“Just why did you stress that point, Mr. Purvis?”
The old gentleman returned his glance with dignity.
“Such things, in my opinion, are better undiscussed. Also it might have led to future disappointment.”
“Ah,” Poirot drew a long breath. “I take it that you thought it probable that Miss Arundell might change her mind in the near future?”
The lawyer bowed his head.
“That is so. I fancied that Miss Arundell had had some violent altercation with her family. I thought it probable that when she cooled down, she would repent of her rash decision.”
“In which case she would have done—what?”