Sugden looked at him.
‘Come, now, Mr Poirot, you’ve got ideas about the case. Let’s have them.’
Poirot said slowly: ‘I have ideas, yes, but they are rather nebulous. Let me first hear your summing-up of the case.’
‘Well, it’s as I said – three possible motives: hate, gain, and this diamond complication. Take the facts chronologically.
‘3.30. Family gathering. Telephone conversation to lawyer overheard by all the family. Then the old man lets loose on his family, tells them where they all get off. They slink out like a lot of scared rabbits.’
‘Hilda Lee remained behind,’ said Poirot.
‘So she did. But not for long. Then about six Alfred has an interview with his father – unpleasant interview. Harry is to be reinstated. Alfred isn’t pleased. Alfred, of course, ought to be our principal suspect. He had by far the strongest motive. However, to get on, Harry comes along next. Is in boisterous spirits. Has got the old man just where he wants him. But before those two interviews Simeon Lee has discovered the loss of the diamonds and has telephoned to me. He doesn’t mention his loss to either of his two sons. Why? In my opinion because he was quite sure neither of them had anything to do with it. Neither of them were under suspicion. I believe, as I’ve said all along, that the old man suspected Horbury and one other person. And I’m pretty sure of what he meant to do. Remember, he said definitely he didn’t want anyone to come and sit with him that evening. Why? Because he was preparing the way for two things: First, my visit; and second, the visit of that other suspected person. He did ask someone to come and see him immediately after dinner. Now who was that person likely to be? Might have been George Lee. Much more likely to have been his wife. And there’s another person who comes back into the picture here – Pilar Estravados. He’s shown her the diamonds. He’d told her their value. How do we know that girl isn’t a thief? Remember these mysterious hints about the disgraceful behaviour of her father. Perhaps he was a professional thief and finally went to prison for it.’
Poirot said slowly:
‘And so, as you say, Pilar Estravados comes back into the picture…’
‘Yes – as a thief. No other way. She may have lost her head when she was found out. Shemay have flown at her grandfather and attacked him.’
Poirot said slowly:
‘It is possible – yes…’
Superintendent Sugden looked at him keenly.
‘But that’s not your idea? Come, Mr Poirot, what is your idea?’
Poirot said:
‘I go back always to the same thing: the character of the dead man. What manner of a man was Simeon Lee?’
‘There isn’t much mystery about that,’ said Sugden, staring.
‘Tell me, then. That is to say, tell me from the local point of view what was known of the man.’
Superintendent Sugden drew a doubtful finger along his jawbone. He looked perplexed. He said:
‘I’m not a local man myself. I come from Reeveshire, over the border – next county. But of course old Mr Lee was a well-known figure in these parts. I know all about him by hearsay.’
‘Yes? And that hearsay was-what?’
Sugden said:
‘Well, he was a sharp customer; there weren’t many who could get the better of him. But he was generous with his money. Openhanded as they make’em. Beats me how Mr George Lee can be the exact opposite, and be his father’s son.’
‘Ah! But there are two distinct strains in the family. Alfred, George, and David resemble – superficially at least – their mother’s side of the family. I have been looking at some portraits in the gallery this morning.’
‘He was hot-tempered,’ continued Superintendent Sugden, ‘and of course he had a bad reputation with women – that was in his younger days. He’s been an invalid for many years now. But even there he always behaved generously. If there was trouble, he always paid up handsomely and got the girl married off as often as not. He may have been a bad lot, but he wasn’t mean. He treated his wife badly, ran after other women, and neglected her. She died of a broken heart, so they say. It’s a convenient term, but I believe she was really very unhappy, poor lady. She was always sickly and never went about much. There’s no doubt that Mr Lee was an odd character. Had a revengeful streak in him, too. If anyone did him a nasty turn he always paid it back, so they say, and didn’t mind how long he had to wait to do it.’
‘The mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small,’ murmured Poirot.
Superintendent Sugden said heavily:
‘Mills of the devil, more likely! Nothing saintly about Simeon Lee. The kind of man you might say had sold his soul to the devil and enjoyed the bargain! And he was proud, too, proud as Lucifer.’
‘Proud as Lucifer!’ said Poirot. ‘It is suggestive, what you say there.’
Superintendent Sugden said, looking puzzled:
‘You don’t mean that he was murdered because he was proud?’
‘I mean,’ said Poirot, ‘that there is such a thing as inheritance. Simeon Lee transmitted that pride to his sons–’
He broke off. Hilda Lee had come out of the house and was standing looking along the terrace.
‘I wanted to find you, M. Poirot.’
Superintendent Sugden had excused himself and gone back into the house. Looking after him, Hilda said:
‘I didn’t know he was with you. I thought he was with Pilar. He seems a nice man, quite considerate.’
Her voice was pleasant, a low, soothing cadence to it.
Poirot asked:
‘You wanted to see me, you say?’
She inclined her head.
‘Yes. I think you can help me.’
‘I shall be delighted to do so, madame.’
She said:
‘You are a very intelligent man, M. Poirot. I saw that last night. There are things which you will, I think, find out quite easily. I want you to understand my husband.’
‘Yes, madame?’
‘I shouldn’t talk like this to Superintendent Sugden. He wouldn’t understand. But you will.’
Poirot bowed. ‘You honour me, madame.’
Hilda went calmly on:
‘My husband, for many years, ever since I married him, has been what I can only describe as a mental cripple.’
‘Ah!’
‘When one suffers some great hurt physically, it causes shock and pain, but slowly it mends, the flesh heals, the bone knits. There may be, perhaps, a little weakness, a slight scar, but nothing more. My husband, M. Poirot, suffered a great hurt mentally at his most susceptible age. He adored his mother and he saw her die. He believed that his father was morally responsible for that death. From that shock he has never quite recovered. His resentment against his father never died down. It was I who persuaded David to come here this Christmas, to be reconciled to his father. I wanted it – for his sake – I wanted that mental wound to heal. I realize now that coming here was a mistake. Simeon Lee amused himself by probing into that old wound. It was – a very dangerous thing to do…’
Poirot said: ‘Are you telling me, madame, that your husband killed his father?’
‘I am telling you, M. Poirot, that he easily might have done so… And I will also tell you this – that he did not! When Simeon Lee was killed, his son was playing the “Dead March”. The wish to kill was in his heart. It passed out through his fingers and died in waves of sound – that is the truth.’
