Part 7 (1/2)
”And who played with who?”
”First rubber, Despard and I against the ladies. They beat us, G.o.d bless 'em.
Walk over; we never held a card.
”Second rubber, Miss Meredith and I against Despard and Mrs. Lorrimer.
Third rubber, Mrs. Lorrimer and I against Miss Meredith and Despard. We cut
each time, but it worked out like a pivot. Fourth ruboer, Miss Meredith and I
again.”
”Who won and who lost?”
”Mrs. Lorrimer won every rubber. Miss Meredith won the first and lost the next two. I was a bit up and Miss Meredith and Despard must have been down.”
Poirot said, smiling, ”The good superintendent has asked you your opinion of your companions as candidates for murder. I now ask you for your opinion of them as bridge players.”
”Mrs. Lorrimer's first cla.s.s,” Dr. Roberts replied promptly. ”I'll bet she makes a good income a year out of bridge. Despard's a good player, toowhat I call a sound player--long-headed chap. Miss Meredith you might describe as quite
a safe player. She doesn't make mistakes, but she isn't brilliant.”
”And you yourself, doctor?”
Roberts' eyes twinkled.
”I overcall my hand a bit, or so they say. But I've always found it pays.”
Poirot smiled.
Dr. Roberts rose.
”Anything more?”
Poirot shook his head.
”Well, good-night, then. Good-night, Mrs. Oliver. You ought to get some copy out of this. Better than your untraceable poisons, eh?”
Dr. Roberts left the room, his bearing springy once more. Mrs. Oliver said bitterly as the door closed behind him
”Copy! Copy, indeed! People are so unintelligent. I could invent a better murder any day than anything real. I'm never at a loss for a plot. And the people who read my books like untraceable poisons!”
CHAPTER 5
Second Murderer?
Mrs. Lorrimer came into the dining-room like a gentlewoman. She looked a little pale, but composed.
”I'm sorry to have to bother you,” Superintendent Battle began.
”You must do your duty, of course,” said Mrs. Lorrimer quietly. ”It is, I agree, an unpleasant position in which to be placed, but there is no good s.h.i.+rking it. I quite realise that one of the four people in that room must be guilty. Naturally, I can't expect you to take my word that I am not the person.”
She accepted the chair that Colonel Race offered her and sat down opposite the superintendent. Her intelligent grey eyes met his. She waited attentively.
”You knew Mr. Shaitana well?” began the superintendent.
”Not very well. I have known him over a period of some years, but never intimately.”
”Where did you meet him?”
”At a hotel in Egypt--the Winter Palace at Luxor, I think.”