Murder in the Mews (Hercule Poirot 18) - Page 26

“No, no, this will do me very well.” Then he leaned forward—his tone changed. “Perhaps you can guess, Major Eustace, what it was I came to see you about?”

The other shook his head. His manner was nonchalant. Major Eustace was a tall man, good-looking in a somewhat coarse fashion. There was a puffiness round the eyes—small, crafty eyes that belied the good-humoured geniality of his manner.

He said:

“No—I’ve no idea what brings such a big gun as a chief inspector to see me. Anything to do with my car?”

“No, it is not your car. I think you knew a Mrs. Barbara Allen, Major Eustace?”

The major leant back, puffed out a cloud of smoke, and said in an enlightened voice:

“Oh, so that’s it! Of course, I might have guessed. Very sad business.”

“You know about it?”

“Saw it in the paper last night. Too bad.”

“You knew Mrs. Allen out in India, I think.”

“Yes, that’s some years ago now.”

“Did you also know her husband?”

There was a pause—a mere fraction of a second—but during that fraction the little pig eyes flashed a quick look at the faces of the two men. Then he answered:

“No, as a matter of fact, I never came across Allen.”

“But you know something about him?”

“Heard he was by way of being a bad hat. Of course, that was only rumour.”

“Mrs. Allen did not say anything?”

“Never talked about him.”

“You were on intimate terms with her?”

Major Eustace shrugged his shoulders.

“We were old friends, you know, old friends. But we didn’t see each other very often.”

“But you did see her that last evening? The evening of November fifth?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”

“You called at her house, I think.”

Major Eustace nodded. His voice took on a gentle, regretful note.

“Yes, she asked me to advise her about some investments. Of course, I can see what you’re driving at—her state of mind—all that sort of thing. Well, really, it’s very difficult to say. Her manner seemed normal enough and yet she was a bit jumpy, come to think of it.”

“But she gave you no hint as to what she contemplated doing?”

“Not the least in the world. As a matter of fact, when I said goodbye I said I’d ring her up soon and we’d do a show together.”

“You said you’d ring her up. Those were your last words?”

“Yes.”

Tags: Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot Mystery
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