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Harry Lee came into the room with a swagger. For a moment Poirot stared at him, frowning. He
had a feeling that somewhere he had seen this man before. He noted the features: the high-bridged
nose, the arrogant poise of the head, the line of the jaw; and he realized that though Harry was a
big man and his father had been a man of merely middle height, yet there had been a good deal of
resemblance between them.
He noted something else, too. For all his swagger, Harry Lee was nervous. He was carrying it
off with a swing, but the anxiety underneath was real enough.
Well, gentlemen,” he said. “What can I tell you
Colonel Johnson said
We shall be glad of any light you can throw on the events of this evening.
Harry Lee shook his head.
I don’t know anything at all. It’s all pretty horrible and utterly unexpected.
Poirot said
You have recently returned from abroad, I think, Mr. Lee
Harry turned to him quickly.
Yes. Landed in England a week ago.
Poirot said
You had been away a long time
Harry Lee lifted up his chin and laughed.
You might as well hear straight away—someone will soon tell you! I’m the prodigal son
gentlemen! It’s nearly twenty years since I last set foot in this house.
But you returned—now. Will you tell us why?” asked Poirot.
With the same appearance of frankness Harry answered readily enough.
It’s the good old parable still. I got tired of the husks that the swine do eat—or don’t eat, I
forget which. I thought to myself that the fatted calf would be a welcome exchange. I had a letter
from my father suggesting that I come home. I obeyed the summons and came. That’s all.
Poirot said
You came for a short visit—or a long one
Harry said: “I came home—for good
Your father was willing
The old man was delighted.” He laughed again. The corners of his eyes crinkled engagingly.
Pretty boring for the old man living here with Alfred! Alfred’s a dull stick—very worthy and all
that, but poor company. My father had been a bit of a rip in his time. He was looking forward to
my company.
And your brother and his wife, were they pleased that you were to live here
Poirot asked the question with a slight lifting of his eyebrows.
Alfred? Alfred was livid with rage. Don’t know about Lydia. She was probably annoyed on
Alfred’s behalf. But I’ve no doubt she’d be quite pleased in the end. I like Lydia. She’s a
delightful woman. I should have got on with Lydia. But Alfred was quite another pair of shoes.
He laughed again. “Alfred’s always been as jealous as hell of me. He’s always been the good
dutiful stay-at-home stick-in-the-mud son. And what was he going to get for it in the end?—what
the good boy of the family always gets—a kick in the pants. Take it from me, gentlemen, virtue
doesn’t pay.” He looked from one face to another.
Hope you’re not shocked by my frankness. But after all, it’s the truth you’re after. You’ll
drag out all the family dirty linen into the light of day in the end. I might as well display mine
straight away. I’m not particularly brokenhearted by my father’s death—after all, I hadn’t seen the
old devil since I was a boy—but nevertheless he was my father and he was murdered. I’m all out
for revenge on the murderer.” He stroked his jawbone, watching them. “We’re rather hot on
revenge in our family. None of the Lees forget easily. I mean to make sure that my father’s
murderer is caught and hanged.
I think you can trust us to do our best in that line, Mr. Lee,” said Sugden.
If you don’t I shall take the law into my own hands,” said Harry Lee.
The chief constable said sharply
Have you any ideas on the subject of the murderer’s identity, then, Mr. Lee
Harry shook his head.
No,” he said slowly. “No—I haven’t. You know it’s rather a jolt. Because I’ve been thinking
about it—and I don’t see that it can have been an outside job. . . .
Ah,” said Sugden, nodding his head.
And if so,” said Harry Lee, “then someone here in the house killed him . . . But who the
devil could have done it? Can’t suspect the servants. Tressilian has been here since the year one.
The half-witted footman? Not on your life. Horbury, now, he’s a cool customer, but Tressilian
tells me he was out at the pictures. So what do you come to? Passing over Stephen Farr (and why
the devil should Stephen Farr come all the way from South Africa and murder a total stranger
there’s only the family. And for the life of me I can’t see one of us doing it. Alfred? He adored
Father. George? He hasn’t got the guts. David? David’s always been a moon dreamer. He’d faint
if he saw his own finger bleed. The wives? Women don’t go and slit a man’s throat in cold blood.
So who did? Blessed if I know. But it’s damned disturbing.
Colonel Johnson cleared his throat—an official habit of his—and said
When did you last see your father this evening
After tea. He’d just had a row with Alfred—about your humble servant. The old man was no
end bucked with himself. He always liked stirring up trouble. In my opinion, that’s why he kept
my arrival dark from the others. Wanted to see the fur fly when I blew in unexpectedly! That’s
why he talked about altering his will, too.
Poirot stirred softly. He murmured
So your father mentioned his will
Yes—in front of the whole lot of us, watching us like a cat to see how we reacted. Just told
the lawyer chap to come over and see him about it after Christmas.
Poirot asked
What changes did he contemplate making
Harry Lee grinned
He didn’t tell us that! Trust the old fox! I imagine—or shall we say I hoped—that the
change was to the advantage of your humble servant! I should imagine I’d been cut out of any
former wills. Now, I rather fancy, I was to go back. Nasty blow for the others. Pilar, too—he’d
taken a fancy to her. She was in for something good, I should imagine. You haven’t seen her yet
My Spanish niece. She’s a beautiful creature, Pilar—with the lovely warmth of the South—and its
cruelty. Wish I wasn’t a mere uncle
You say your father took to her
Harry nodded.
She knew how to get round the old man. Sat up there with him a good deal. I bet she knew
just what she was after! Well, he’s dead now. No wills can be altered in Pilar’s favour—nor mine
either, worse luck.
He frowned, paused a minute, and then went on with a change of tone.
But I’m wandering from the point. You wanted to know what was the last time I saw my
father? As I’ve told you, it was after tea—might have been a little past six. The old man was in
good spirits then—a bit tired, perhaps. I went away and left him with Horbury. I never saw him
again.
Where were you at the time of his death
In the dining room with brother Alfred. Not a very harmonious after-dinner session. We
were in the middle of a pretty sharp argument when we heard the noise overhead. Sounded as
though ten men were wrestling up there. And then poor old Father screamed. It was like killing a
pig. The sound of it paralysed Alfred. He just sat there with his jaw dropping. I fairly shook him
back to life, and we started off upstairs. The door was locked. Had to break it open. Took some
doing, too. How the devil that door came to be locked, I can’t imagine! There was no one in the
room but Father, and I’m damned if anyone could have got away through the windows.
Superintendent Sugden said
The door was locked from the outside.
What?” Harry stared. “But I’ll swear the key was on the inside.
Poirot murmured
So you noticed that
Harry Lee said sharply
I do notice things. It’s a habit of mine.
He looked sharply from one face to the other.
Is there anything more you want to know, gentlemen
Johnson shook his head.
Thank you, Mr. Lee, not for the moment. Perhaps you will ask the next member of the
family to come along
Certainly I will.
He walked to the door and went out without looking back.
The three men looked at each other.
Colonel Johnson said
What about it, Sugden
The superintendent shook his head doubtfully. He said
He’s afraid of something. I wonder why?. . . .
