'So what follows – if a man stood here watching, and if he afterward went to that window and climbed in and tampered with the sandwiches?
What did he think and believe? He thought, he must have thought, that the sandwiches were to be eaten by Elinor Carlisle herself.'
Chapter 20
Poirot knocked at the door of Nurse Hopkins's cottage. She opened it to him with her mouth full of Bath bun. She said sharply, 'Well, Mr. Poirot, what do you want now? '
'I may enter?'
Somewhat grudgingly Nurse Hopkins drew back and Poirot was permitted to cross the threshold. Nurse Hopkins was hospitable with the teapot, and a minute later Poirot was regarding with some dismay a cup of inky beverage.
'Just made – nice and strong!' said Nurse Hopkins.
Poirot stirred his tea cautiously and took one heroic sip. He said, 'Have you any idea why I have come here?'
'I couldn't say, I'm sure, until you tell me. I don't profess to be a mind-reader.'
'I have come to ask you for the truth.'
Nurse Hopkins uprose in wrath. 'And what's the meaning of that, I should like to know? A truthful woman I've always been. Not one to shield myself in any way. I spoke up about that missing tube of morphine at the inquest when many a one in my place would have sat tight and said nothing. For well enough did I know that I should get censured for carelessness in leaving my case about, and, after all, it's a thing might happen to anybody! I was blamed for that – and it won't do me any good in my profession, I can tell you. But that didn't make any difference to me! I knew something that had a bearing on the case, and so I spoke out. And I'll thank you, Mr. Poirot, to keep any nasty insinuation to yourself! There's not a thing about Mary Gerrard's death that I haven't been open and aboveboard as daylight about, and if you think differently, I'd be obliged if you'd give chapter and verse for it! I've concealed nothing – nothing at all! And I'm prepared to take the oath and stand up in court and say so.'
Poirot did not attempt to interrupt. He knew only too well the technique of dealing with an angry woman. He allowed Nurse Hopkins to flare up and simmer down. Then he spoke – quietly and mildly.
He said, 'I did not suggest that there is anything about the crime which you have not told.'
'Then what did you suggest, I'd like to know?'
'I asked you to tell the truth – not about the death, but about the life of Mary Gerrard.'
'Oh!' Nurse Hopkins seemed momentarily taken aback. She said, 'So that's what you're getting at? But it's got nothing to do with the murder.'
'I did not say that it had. I said that you were withholding knowledge concerning her.'
'Why shouldn't I – if it's nothing to do with the crime?'
Poirot shrugged his shoulders. 'Why should you?'
Nurse Hopkins, very red in the face, said, 'Because it's common decency! They're all dead now – everyone concerned. And it's no business of anyone else's!'
'If it is only surmise – perhaps not. But if you have actual knowledge, that's different.'
Nurse Hopkins said slowly, 'I don't know exactly what you mean.'
Poirot said, 'I will help you. I have had hints from Nurse O'Brien and I have had a long conversation with Mrs. Slattery, who has a very good memory for events that happened over twenty years ago. I will tell you exactly what I have learned. Well, over twenty years ago there was a love affair between two people. One of them was Mrs. Welman, who had been a widow for some years and who was a woman capable of a deep and passionate love. The other party was Sir Lewis Rycroft, who had the great misfortune to have a wife who was hopelessly insane. The law in those days gave no promise of relief by divorce. Lady Rycroft, whose physical health was excellent, might live to be ninety. The liaison between those two people was, I think, guessed at, but they were both discreet and careful to keep up appearances. Then Sir Lewis Rycroft was killed in action.'
'Well?' said Nurse Hopkins.
'I suggest,' said Poirot, 'that there was a child born after his death, and that child was Mary Gerrard.'
Nurse Hopkins said, 'You seem to know all about it!'
Poirot said, 'That is what I think. But it is possible that you have got define proof that that is so.'
Nurse Hopkins sat silent a minute or two, frowning, then abruptly she rose, went across the room, opened a drawer, and took out an envelope. She brought it across to Poirot.
She said, 'I'll tell you how this came into my hands. Mind, I'd had my suspicions. The way Mrs. Welman looked at the girl, for one thing, and then hearing the gossip on top of it. And old Gerrard told me when he was ill that Mary wasn't his daughter.
'Well, after Mary died I finished clearing up the lodge, and in a drawer among some of the old man's things I came across this letter. You see what's written on it.'
Poirot read the superscription written in faded ink:
For Mary – to be sent to her after my death. Poirot said, 'This writing is not recent?'
'It wasn't Gerrard who wrote that,' explained Nurse Hopkins. 'It was Mary's mother, who died fourteen years ago. She meant this for the girl, but the old man kept it among his things and so she never saw it – and I'm thankful she didn't! She was able to hold up her head to the end, and she'd no cause to feel ashamed.'
She paused and then said, 'Well, it was sealed up, but when I found it I'll admit to you that I opened it and read it then and there, which I dare say I should not have done. But Mary was dead, and I guessed more or less at what was inside it and I didn't see that it was any concern of anyone else's. All the same, I haven't liked to destroy it, because I didn't feel somehow it would be right to do that. But, there, you'd better read it yourself.'
Poirot drew out the sheet of paper covered in small, angular writing:
This is the truth I've written down here in case it should ever be needed. I was lady's maid to Mrs. Welman at Hunterbury, and very kind to me she was. I got into trouble, and she stood by me and took me back into her service when it was all over; but the baby died. My mistress and Sir Lewis Rycroft were fond of each other, but they couldn't marry, because he had a wife already and she was in a madhouse, poor lady. He was a fine gentleman and devoted to Mrs. Welman. He was killed, and she told me soon after that she was going to have a child. After that she went up to Scotland and took me with her. The child was born there – at Ardlochrie. Bob Gerrard, who had washed his hands of me and flung me off when I had my trouble, had been writing to me again. The arrangement was that we should marry and live at the lodge and he should think that the baby was mine. If we lived on the place it would seem natural that Mrs. Welman should be interested in the child and she'd see to educating her and giving her a place in the world. She thought it would be better for Mary never to know the truth. Mrs. Welman gave us both a handsome sum of money; but I would have helped her without that. I've been quite happy with Bob, but he never took to Mary. I've held my tongue and never said anything to anybody, but I think it's right in case I die that I should put this down in black and white.
Eliza Gerrard (born Eliza Riley).
Hercule Poirot drew a deep breath and folded up the letter again.
Nurse Hopkins said anxiously, 'What are you going to do about it? They're all dead now! It's no good raking up these things. Everyone looked up to Mrs. Welman in these parts; there's never been anything said against her. All this old scandal – it would be cruel. The same with Mary. She was a sweet girl. Why should anyone have to know she was a bastard? Let the dead rest in peace in their graves, that's what I say.'
Poirot said, 'One has to consider the living.'
Nurse Hopkins said, 'But this has got nothing to do with the murder.'
Hercule Poirot said gravely, 'It may have a great deal to do with it.'
He went out of the cottage, leaving Nurse Hopkins with her mouth open, staring after him. He had walked some way when he became aware of hesitating footsteps just behind him. He stopped and turned round.
It was Horlick, the young gardener from Hunterbury. He was looking the picture of embarrassment and twisting his cap round and round in his hands.
