‘I am telling you that because Simeon Lee was a certain kind of man, he set in motion certain forces, which forces in the end brought about his death.’
‘You don’t think the diamonds had anything to do with it, then?’
Poirot smiled at the honest perplexity in Johnson’s face.
‘Mon cher,’ he said. ‘It was because of Simeon Lee’s peculiar character that he kept ten thousand pounds worth of uncut diamonds in his safe! You have not there the action of every man.’
‘That’s very true, Mr Poirot,’ said Superintendent Sugden, nodding his head with the air of a man who at last sees what a fellow-conversationalist is driving at. ‘He was a queer one, Mr Lee was. He kept those stones there so he could take them out and handle them and get the feeling of the past back. Depend upon it, that’s why he never had them cut.’
Poirot nodded energetically.
‘Precisely—precisely. I see you have great acumen, Superintendent.’
The superintendent looked a little doubtful at the compliment, but Colonel Johnson cut in:
‘There’s something else, Poirot. I don’t know whether it has struck you—’
‘Mais oui,’ said Poirot. ‘I know what you mean. Mrs George Lee, she let the cat out of the bag more than she knew! She gave us a pretty impression of that last family meeting. She indicates—oh! so naïvely—that Alfred was angry with his father—and that David looked as “though he could murder him”. Both those statements I think were true. But from them we can draw our own reconstruction. What did Simeon Lee assemble his family for? Why should they have arrived in time to hear him telephoning to his lawyer? Parbleu, it was no error, that. He wanted them to hear it! The poor old one, he sits in his chair and he has lost the diversions of his younger days. So he invents a new diversion for himself. He amuses himself by playing upon the cupidity and the greed of human nature—yes, and on its emotions and its passions, too! But from that arises one further deduction. In his game of rousing the greed and emotion of his children, he would not omit anyone. He must, logically and necessarily, have had his dig at Mr George Lee as well as at the others! His wife is carefully silent about that. At her, too, he may have shot a poisoned arrow or two. We shall find out, I think, from others, what Simeon Lee had to say to George Lee and George Lee’s wife—’
He broke off. The door opened and David Lee came in.
XII
David Lee had himself well in hand. His demeanour was calm—almost unnaturally so. He came up to them, drew a chair forward and sat down, looking with grave interrogation at Colonel Johnson.
The electric light touched the fair peak of hair that grew on his forehead and showed up the sensitive modelling of the cheek bones. He looked absurdly young to be the son of that shrivelled old man who lay dead upstairs.
‘Yes, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘what can I tell you?’
Colonel Johnson said:
‘I understand, Mr Lee, that there was a kind of family meeting held in your father’s room this afternoon?’
‘There was. But it was quite informal. I mean, it was not a family council or anything of that kind.’
‘What took place there?’
David Lee answered calmly:
‘My father was in a difficult mood. He was an old man and an invalid, of course, one had to make allowances for him. He seemed to have assembled us there in order to—well—vent his spite upon us.’
‘Can you remember what he said?’
David said quietly:
‘It was really all rather foolish. He said we were no use—any of us—that there wasn’t a single man in the family! He said Pilar (that is my Spanish niece) was worth two of any of us. He said—’ David stopped.
Poirot said:
‘Please, Mr Lee, the exact words, if you can.’
David said reluctantly:
‘He spoke rather coarsely—said he hoped that somewhere in the world he had better sons—even if they were born the wrong side of the blanket…’
His sensitive face showed distaste for the words he was repeating. Superintendent Sugden looked up, suddenly alert. Leaning forward, he said:
‘Did your father say anything in particular to your brother, Mr George Lee?’