Rice-'
A cry burst from Nick.
'This is untrue-every word of it!'
Poirot pointed a hand at her.
'Voila!' he said. 'The person K.! It was Mademoiselle Nick who shot her cousin, Maggie Buckley.'
'Are you mad?' cried Nick. 'Why should I kill Maggie?'
'In order to inherit the money left to her by Michael Seton! Her name too was Magdala Buckley-and it was to her he was engaged-not you.'
'You-you-'
She stood there trembling-unable to speak. Poirot turned to Japp.
'You telephoned to the police?'
'Yes, they are waiting in the hall now. They've got the warrant.'
'You're all mad!' cried Nick, contemptuously. She moved swiftly to Frederica's side. 'Freddie, give me your wrist-watch as-as a souvenir, will you?'
Slowly Frederica unclasped the jewelled watch from her wrist and handed it to Nick.
'Thanks. And now-I suppose we must go through with this perfectly ridiculous comedy.'
'The comedy you planned and produced in End House. Yes-but you should not have given the star part to Hercule Poirot. That, Mademoiselle, was your mistake-your very grave mistake.'
Chapter 22 – The End of the Story
'You want me to explain?'
Poirot looked round with a gratified smile and the air of mock humility I knew so well.
We had moved into the drawing-room and our numbers had lessened. The domestics had withdrawn tactfully, and the Crofts had been asked to accompany the police. Frederica, Lazarus, Challenger, Vyse and I remained.
'Eh bien-I confess it-I was fooled-fooled completely and absolutely. The little Nick, she had me where she wanted me, as your idiom so well expresses it. Ah! Madame, when you said that your friend was a clever little liar- how right you were! How right!'
'Nick always told lies,' said Frederica, composedly. 'That's why I didn't really believe in these marvellous escapes of hers.'
'And I-imbecile that I was-did!'
'Didn't they really happen?' I asked. I was, I admit, still hopelessly confused.
'They were invented-very cleverly-to give just the impression they did.’
‘What was that?'
'They gave the impression that Mademoiselle Nick's life was in danger. But I will begin earlier than that. I will tell you the story as I have pieced it out-not as it came to me imperfectly and in flashes.'
'At the beginning of the business then, we have this girl, this Nick Buckley, young and beautiful, unscrupulous, and passionately and fanatically devoted to her home.'
Charles Vyse nodded.
'I told you that.'
'And you were right. Mademoiselle Nick loved End House. But she had no money. The house was mortgaged. She wanted money-she wanted it feverishly-and she could not get it. She meets this young Seton at Le Touquet, he is attracted by her. She knows that in all probability he is his uncle's heir and that that uncle is worth millions. Good, her star is in the ascendant, she thinks. But he is not really seriously attracted. He thinks her good fun, that is all. They meet at Scarborough, he takes her up in his machine and then-the catastrophe occurs. He meets Maggie and falls in love with her at first sight.'
'Mademoiselle Nick is dumbfounded. Her cousin Maggie whom she has never considered pretty! But to young Seton she is 'different'. The one girl in the world for him. They become secretly engaged. Only one person knows- has to know. That person is Mademoiselle Nick. The poor Maggie-she is glad that there is one person she can talk to. Doubtless she reads to her cousin parts of her fiance’s letters. So it is that Mademoiselle gets to hear of the will. She pays no attention to it at the time. But it remains in her mind.'
'Then comes the sudden and unexpected death of Sir Matthew Seton, and hard upon that the rumours of Michael Seton's being missing. And straightaway an outrageous plan comes into our young lady's head. Seton does not know that her name is Magdala also. He only knows her as Nick. His will is clearly quite informal-a mere mention of a name. But in the eyes of the world Seton is her friend! It is with her that his name has been coupled. If she were to claim to be engaged to him, no one would be surprised. But to do that successfully Maggie must be out of the way.'
'Time is short. She arranges for Maggie to come and stay in a few days' time. Then she has her escapes from death. The picture whose cord she cuts through. The brake of the car that she tampers with. The boulder-that perhaps was natural and she merely invented the story of being underneath on the path.'
'And then-she sees my name in the paper. (I told you, Hastings, everyone knew Hercule Poirot!) and she has the audacity to make me an accomplice! The bullet through the hat that falls at my feet. Oh! the pretty comedy. And I am taken in! I believe in the peril that menaces her! Bon! She has got a valuable witness on her side. I play into her hands by asking her to send for a friend.'
'She seizes the chance and sends for Maggie to come a day earlier.'
'How easy the crime is actually! She leaves us at the dinner table and after hearing on the wireless that Seton's death is a fact, she starts to put her plan into action. She has plenty of time, then, to take Seton's letters to Maggie-look through them and select the few that will answer her purpose. These she places in her own room. Then, later, she and Maggie leave the fireworks and go back to the house. She tells her cousin to put on her shawl. Then stealing out after her, she shoots her. Quick, into the house, the pistol concealed in the secret panel (of whose existence she thinks nobody knows). Then upstairs. There she waits till voices are heard. The body is discovered. It is her cue.'
'Down she rushes and out through the window.'
'How well she played her part! Magnificently! Oh, yes, she staged a fine drama here. The maid, Ellen, said this was an evil house. I am inclined to agree with her. It was from the house that Mademoiselle Nick took her inspiration.'
'But those poisoned sweets,' said Frederica. 'I still don't understand about that.'
'It was all part of the same scheme. Do you not see that if Nick's life was attempted after Maggie was dead that absolutely settled the question that Maggie's death had been a mistake.'
'When she thought the time was ripe she rang up Madame Rice and asked her to get her a box of chocolates.'
'Then it was her voice?'
'But, yes! How often the simple explanation is the true one! N'est ce pas? She made her voice sound a little different-that was all. So that you might be in doubt when questioned. Then, when the box arrived-again how simple. She fills three of the chocolates with cocaine (she had cocaine with her, cleverly concealed), eats one of them and is ill-but not too ill. She knows very well how much cocaine to take and just what symptoms to exaggerate.'
'And the card-my card! Ah! Sapristi – she has a nerve! It was my card-the one I sent with the flowers. Simple, was it not? Yes, but it had to be thought of…'
There was a pause and then Frederica asked: 'Why did she put the pistol in my coat?'
'I thought you would ask me that, Madame. It was bound to occur to you in time. Tell me-had it ever entered your head that Mademoiselle Nick no longer liked you? Did you ever feel that she might-hate you?'
'It's difficult to say,' said Frederica, slowly. 'We lived an insincere life. She used to be fond of me.'
'Tell me, M. Lazarus-it is not a time for false modesty, you understand-was there ever anything between you and her?'
'No.' Lazarus shook his head. 'I was attracted to her at one time. And then-I don't know why-I went off her.'
