surprise and went on, 'She is like a child – I mean, she uses terms like a child – wicked, good. No half shades. I shouldn't pay any attention to what she tells you about this Etienne De Sousa.'
Again Poirot wondered. He said slowly:
'You know Lady Stubbs very well, do you not, Mrs Folliat?'
'Probably as well as anyone knows her. Possibly even better than her husband knows her. And if I do?'
'What is she really like, Madame?'
'What a very odd question, M. Poirot.'
'You know, do you not, Madame, that Lady Stubbs cannot be found anywhere?'
Again her answer surprised him. She expressed no concern or astonishment. She said:
'So she has run away, has she? I see.'
'It seems to you quite natural, that?'
'Natural? Oh, I don't know. Hattie is rather unaccountable.'
'Do you think she has run away because she has a guilty conscience?'
'What do you mean, M. Poirot?'
'Her cousin was talking about her this afternoon. He mentioned casually that she had always been mentally subnormal. I think you must know, Madame, that people who are subnormal mentally are not always accountable for their actions.'
'What are you trying to say, M. Poirot?'
'Such people are, as you say, very simple – like children. In a sudden fit of rage they might even kill.'
Mrs Folliat turned on him in sudden anger.
'Hattie was never like that! I won't allow you to say such things. She was a gentle warm-hearted girl, even if she was – a little simple mentally. Hattie would never have killed anyone.'
She faced him, breathing hard, still indignant.
Poirot wondered. He wondered very much.
II
Breaking into this scene, P.C. Hoskins made his appearance.
He said in an apologetic manner:
'I've been looking for you, ma'am.'
'Good evening, Hoskins.' Mrs Folliat was once more her poised self again, the mistress of Nasse House. 'Yes, what is it?'
'The inspector's compliments, and he'd be glad to have a word with you – if you feels up to it, that is,' Hoskins hastened to add, noting as Hercule Poirot had done, the effects of shock.
'Of course I feel up to it.' Mrs Folliat rose to her feet. She followed Hoskins out of the room. Poirot, having risen politely, sat down again and stared up at the ceiling with a puzzled frown.
The inspector rose when Mrs Folliat entered and the constable held the chair for her to sit down.
'I'm sorry to worry you, Mrs Folliat,' said Bland. 'But I imagine that you know all the people in the neighbourhood and I think you may be able to help us.'
Mrs Folliat smiled faintly. 'I expect,' she said,' that I know everyone round here as well as anyone could do. What do you want to know, Inspector?'
'You knew the Tuckers? The family and the girl?'
'Oh, yes, of course, they've always been tenants on the estate. Mrs Tucker was the youngest of a large family. Her eldest brother was our head gardener. She married Alfred Tucker, who is a farm labourer – a stupid man but very nice. Mrs Tucker is a bit of a shrew. A good housewife, you know, and very clean in the house, but Tucker is never allowed to come anywhere farther than the scullery with his muddy boots on. All that sort of thing. She nags the children rather. Most of them have married and gone into jobs now. There was just this poor child, Marlene, left and three younger children. Two boys and a girl still at school.'
'Now, knowing the family as you do, Mrs Folliat, can you think of any reason why Marlene should have been killed today?'
'No, indeed I can't. It's quite, quite unbelievable, if you know what I mean, Inspector. There was no boyfriend or anything of that kind, or I shouldn't think so. Not that I've ever heard of, anyway.'
'Now what about the people who've been taking part in this Murder Hunt? Can you tell me anything about them?'
'Well, Mrs Oliver I'd never met before. She is quite unlike my idea of what a crime novelist would be. She's very upset, poor dear, by what has happened – naturally.'
'And what about the other helpers – Captain Warburton, for instance?'
'I don't see any reason why he should murder Marlene Tucker, if that's what you're asking me,' said Mrs Folliat composedly. 'I don't like him very much. He's what I call a foxy sort of man, but I suppose one has to be up to all the political tricks and all that kind of thing, if one is a political agent. He's certainly energetic and has worked very hard over this fete. I don't think he could have killed the girl, anyway, because he was on the lawn the whole time this afternoon.'
The inspector nodded.
'And the Legges. What do you know about the Legges?'
'Well, they seem a very nice young couple. He's inclined to be what I should call – moody. I don't know very much about him. She was a Carstairs before her marriage and I know some relations of hers very well. They took the Mill cottage for two months, and I hope they've enjoyed their holiday here. We've all got very friendly together.'
'She's an attractive lady, I understand.'
'Oh, yes, very attractive.'
'Would you say that at any time Sir George had felt that attraction?'
Mrs Folliat looked rather astonished.
'Oh, no, I'm sure there was nothing of that kind. Sir George is really absorbed by his business, and very fond of his wife. He's not at all a philandering sort of man.'
'And there was nothing, you would say, between Lady Stubbs and Mr Legge?'
Again Mrs Folliat shook her head.
'Oh, no, positively.'
The inspector persisted.
'There's been no trouble of any kind between Sir George and his wife, that you know of?'
'I'm sure there hasn't,' said Mrs Folliat, emphatically. 'And I would know if there had been.'
'It wouldn't be, then, as a result of any disagreement between husband and wife, that Lady Stubbs has gone away?'
'Oh, no.' She added lightly, 'The silly girl. I understand, didn't want to meet this cousin of hers. Some childish phobia. So she's run away just like a child might do.'
'That's your opinion. Nothing more than that?'
'Oh, no. I expect she'll turn up again quite soon. Feeling rather ashamed of herself.' She added carelessly, 'What's become of this cousin, by the way? Is he still here in the house?'
'I understand he's gone back to his yacht.'
'And that's at Helmmouth, is it?'
'Yes, at Helmmouth.'
'I see,' said Mrs Folliat. 'Well, it's rather unfortunate – Hattie behaving so childishly. However, if he's staying on here for a day or so, we can make her see she must behave properly.'
It was, the inspector thought, a question, but although he noticed it he did not answer it.
'You are probably thinking,' he said, 'that all this is rather beside the point. But you do understand, don't you, Mrs Folliat, that we have to range over rather a wide field. Miss Brewis, for instance. What do you know about Miss Brewis?'
'Well, she's an excellent secretary. More than a secretary. She practically acts as housekeeper down here. In
