when her son and Mrs Oliver went over to the Repertory Theatre at Cullenquay.'
'And she telephoned to Deirdre Henderson. That puts Deirdre Henderson right back in the picture. And her mother!'
Superintendent Spence shook his head sadly at Poirot.
'You do like to make it difficult, don't you, M. Poirot?' he said.
Chapter 21
Mrs Wetherby walked back home from the post office with a gait surprisingly spry in one habitually reported to be an invalid.
Only when she had entered the front door did she once more shuffle feebly into the drawing-room and collapse on the sofa.
The bell was within reach of her hand and she rang it.
Since nothing happened she rang it again, this time keeping her finger on it for some time.
In due course Maude Williams appeared. She was wearing a flowered overall and had a duster in her hand.
'Did you ring, madam?'
'I rang twice. When I ring I expect someone to come at once. I might be dangerously ill.'
'I'm sorry, madam. I was upstairs.'
'I know you were. You were in my room. I heard you overhead. And you were pulling the drawers in and out. I can't think why. It's no part of your job to go prying into my things.'
'I wasn't prying. I was putting some of the things you left lying about away tidily.'
'Nonsense. All you people snoop. And I won't have it. I'm feeling very faint. Is Miss Deirdre in?'
'She took the dog for a walk.'
'How stupid. She might know I would need her. Bring me an egg beaten up in milk and add a little brandy. The brandy is on the sideboard in the dining-room.'
'There are only just the three eggs for breakfast tomorrow.'
'Then someone will have to go without. Hurry, will you? Don't stand there looking at me. And you're wearing far too much make-up. It isn't suitable.'
There was a bark in the hall and Deirdre and her Sealyham came in as Maude went out.
'I heard your voice,' said Deirdre breathlessly. 'What have you been saying to her?'
'Nothing.'
'She looked like thunder.'
'I put her in her place. Impertinent girl.'
'Oh, Mummy darling, must you? It's so difficult to get anyone. And she does cook well.'
'I suppose it's of no importance that she's insolent to me! Oh well, I shan't be with you much longer.' Mrs Wetherby rolled up her eyes and took some fluttering breaths. 'I walked too far,' she murmured.
'You oughtn't to have gone out, darling. Why didn't you tell me you were going?'
'I thought some air would do me good. It's so stuffy. It doesn't matter. One doesn't really want to live – not if one's only a trouble to people.'
'You're not a trouble, darling. I'd die without you.'
'You're a good girl – but I can see how I weary you and get on your nerves.'
'You don't – you don't,' said Deirdre passionately.
Mrs Wetherby sighed and let her eyelids fall.
'I – can't talk much,' she murmured. 'I must just lie still.'
'I'll hurry up Maude with the egg nog.'
Deirdre ran out of the room. In her hurry she caught her elbow on a table and a bronze god bumped to the ground.
'So clumsy,' murmured Mrs Wetherby to herself, wincing.
The door opened and Mr Wetherby came in. He stood there for a moment. Mrs Wetherby opened her eyes.
'Oh, it's you, Roger?'
'I wondered what all the noise was in here. It's impossible to read quietly in this house.'
'It was just Deirdre, dear. She came in with the dog.'
Mr Wetherby stooped and picked up the bronze monstrosity from the floor.
'Surely Deirdre's old enough not to knock things down the whole time.'
'She's just rather awkward.'
'Well, it's absurd to be awkward at her age. And can't she keep that dog from barking?'
'I'll speak to her, Roger.'
'If she makes her home here, she must consider our wishes and not behave as though the house belonged to her.'
'Perhaps you'd rather we went away,' murmured Mrs Wetherby. Through half closed eyes she watched her husband.
'No, of course not. Of course not. Naturally her home is with us. I only ask for a little more good sense and good manners.' He added: 'You've been out, Edith?'
'Yes. I just went down to the post office.'
'No fresh news about poor Mrs Upward?'
'The police still don't know who it was.'
'They seem to be quite hopeless. Any motive? Who gets her money?'
'The son, I suppose.'
'Yes – yes, then it really seems as though it must have been one of these tramps. You should tell this girl she's got to be careful about keeping the front door locked. And only to open it on the chain when it gets near dusk. These men are very daring and brutal nowadays.'
'Nothing seems to have been taken from Mrs Upward's.'
'Not like Mrs McGinty,' said Mrs Wetherby.
'Mrs McGinty? Oh! the charwoman. What's Mrs McGinty got to do with Mrs Upward?'
'She did work for her, Roger.'
'Don't be silly, Edith.'
Mrs Wetherby closed her eyes again. As Mr Wetherby went out of the room she smiled to herself.
She opened her eyes with a start to find Maude standing over her, holding a glass.
'Your egg nog, madam,' said Maude.
Her voice was loud and clear. It echoed too resonantly in the deadened house.
Mrs Wetherby looked up with a vague feeling of alarm.
How tall and unbending the girl was. She stood over Mrs Wetherby like – 'like a figure of doom,' Mrs Wetherby thought to herself – and then wondered why such ordinary words had come into her head.
She raised herself on her elbow and took the glass.
'Thank you, Maude,' she said
Maude turned and went out of the room.
Mrs Wetherby still felt vaguely upset.
Chapter 22
I
