XIII
Colonel Johnson had had no time to do more than clear his throat when the door opened again and
Hilda Lee came in.
Hercule Poirot looked at her with interest. He had to admit to himself that the wives these
Lees had married were an interesting study. The swift intelligence and greyhound grace of Lydia
the meretricious airs and graces of Magdalene, and now, the solid comfortable strength of Hilda.
She was, he saw, younger than her rather dowdy style of hairdressing and unfashionable clothes
made her appear. Her mouse-brown hair was unflecked with grey and her steady hazel eyes set in
the rather podgy face shone out like beacons of kindliness. She was, he thought, a nice woman.
Colonel Johnson was talking in his kindliest tone.
A great strain on all of you,” he was saying. “I gather from your husband, Mrs. Lee, that
this is the first time you have been to Gorston Hall
She bowed her head.
Were you previously acquainted with your father-in-law, Mr. Lee
Hilda replied in her pleasant voice
No. We were married soon after David left home. He always wanted to have nothing to do
with his family. Until now we have not seen any of them.
How, then, did this visit come about
My father-in-law wrote to David. He stressed his age and his desire that all his children
should be with him this Christmas.
And your husband responded to this appeal
Hilda said
His acceptance was, I am afraid, all my doing—I misunderstood the situation.
Poirot interposed. He said
Will you be so kind as to explain yourself a little more clearly, madame? I think what you
can tell us may be of value.
She turned to him immediately.
She said
At that time I had never seen my father-in-law. I had no idea what his real motive was. I
assumed that he was old and lonely and that he really wanted to be reconciled to all his children.
And what was his real motive, in your opinion, madame
Hilda hesitated a moment. Then she said slowly
I have no doubt—no doubt at all—that what my father-in-law really wanted was not to
promote peace but to stir up strife.
In what way
Hilda said in a low voice
It amused him to—to appeal to the worst instincts in human nature. There was—how can I
put it?—a kind of diabolical impishness about him. He wished to set every member of the family
at loggerheads with one another.
Johnson said sharply: “And did he succeed
Oh, yes,” said Hilda Lee. “He succeeded.
Poirot said
We have been told, madame, of a scene that took place this afternoon. It was, I think, rather
a violent scene.
She bowed her head.
Will you describe it to us—as truthfully as possible, if you please.
She reflected a minute.
When we went in my father-in-law was telephoning.
To his lawyer, I understand
Yes, he was suggesting that Mr.—was it Charlton?—I don’t quite remember the name
should come over as he, my father-in-law, wanted to make a new will. His old one, he said, was
quite out of date.
Poirot said
Think carefully, madame; in your opinion did your father-in-law deliberately ensure that
you should all overhear this conversation, or was it just by chance that you overheard it
Hilda Lee said
I am almost sure that he meant us to overhear.
With the object of fomenting doubt and suspicions among you
Yes.
So that, really, he may not have meant to alter his will at all
She demurred.
No, I think that part of it was quite genuine. He probably did wish to make a new will—but
he enjoyed underlining the fact.
Madame,” said Poirot, “I have no official standing and my questions, you understand, are
not perhaps those that an English officer of the law would ask. But I have a great desire to know
what form you think that new will would have taken. I am asking, you perceive, not for your
knowledge, but simply for your opinion. Les femmes, they are never slow to form an opinion, Dieu
merci.
Hilda Lee smiled a little.
I don’t mind saying what I think. My husband’s sister Jennifer married a Spaniard, Juan
Estravados. Her daughter, Pilar, has just arrived here. She is a very lovely girl—and she is, of
course, the only grandchild in the family. Old Mr. Lee was delighted with her. He took a
tremendous fancy to her. In my opinion, he wished to leave her a considerable sum in his new
will. Probably he had only left her a small portion or even nothing at all in an old one.
Did you know your sister-in-law at all
No, I never met her. Her Spanish husband died in tragic circumstances, I believe, soon after
the marriage. Jennifer herself died a year ago. Pilar was left an orphan. This is why Mr. Lee sent
for her to come and live with him in England.
And the other members of the family, did they welcome her coming
Hilda said quietly
I think they all liked her. It was very pleasant to have someone young and alive in the
house.
And she, did she seem to like being here
Hilda said slowly
I don’t know. It must seem cold and strange to a girl brought up in the South—in Spain.
Johnson said
Can’t be very pleasant being in Spain just at present. Now, Mrs. Lee, we’d like to hear your
account of the conversation this afternoon.
Poirot murmured
I apologize. I have made the digressions.
Hilda Lee said
After my father-in-law finished telephoning, he looked round at us and laughed, and said we
all looked very glum. Then he said he was tired and should go to bed early. Nobody was to come
up and see him this evening. He said he wanted to be in good form for Christmas Day. Something
like that.
Then—” Her brows knit in an effort of remembrance. “I think he said something about its
being necessary to be one of a large family to appreciate Christmas, and then he went on to speak
of money. He said it would cost him more to run this house in future. He told George and
Magdalene they would have to economize. Told her she ought to make her own clothes. Rather an
old-fashioned idea, I’m afraid. I don’t wonder it annoyed her. He said his own wife had been
clever with her needle.
Poirot said gently
Is that all that he said about her
Hilda flushed.
He made a slighting reference to her brains. My husband was very devoted to his mother
and that upset him very much. And then, suddenly Mr. Lee began shouting at us all. He worked
himself up about it. I can understand, of course, how he felt
Poirot said gently, interrupting her
How did he feel
She turned her tranquil eyes upon him.
He was disappointed, of course,” she said. “Because there are no grandchildren—no boys, I
mean—no Lees to carry on. I can see that that must have festered for a long time. And suddenly he
couldn’t keep it in any longer and vented his rage against his sons—saying they were a lot of
namby-pamby old women—something like that. I felt sorry for him, then, because I realized how
his pride was hurt by it.
And then
And then,” said Hilda slowly, “we all went away.
That was the last you saw of him
She bowed her head.
Where were you at the time the crime occurred
I was with my husband in the music room. He was playing to me.
And then
We heard tables and chairs overturned upstairs, and china being broken—some terrible
struggle. And then that awful scream as his throat was cut. . . .
Poirot said
Was it such an awful scream? Was it”—he paused—“like a soul in hell
Hilda Lee said
It was worse than that
What do you mean, madame
It was like someone who had no soul . . . It was inhuman like a beast. . . .
Poirot said gravely
So—you have judged him, madame
She raised a hand in sudden distress. Her eyes fell and she stared down at the floor.
