Agatha Christie: One, Two, Buckle My Shoe

"But in that case – we have to find out why?"

"Exactly. You've come round again to the original problem. Why? Amberiotis is staying at the Savoy. Why does a rich Greek want to come and shoot an inoffensive dentist?

"That's really going to be our stumbling block. Motive!"

Poirot shrugged his shoulders. He said: "It would seem that death selected, most inartistically, the wrong man. The Mysterious Greek, the Rich Banker, the Famous Detective – how natural that one of them should be shot! For mysterious foreigners may be mixed up in espionage and rich bankers have connections who will benefit by their deaths and famous detectives may be dangerous to criminals."

"Whereas, poor old Morley wasn't dangerous to anybody," observed Japp gloomily.

"I wonder."

Japp whirled round on him.

"What's up your sleeve now?"

"Nothing. A chance remark."

He repeated to Japp those few casual words of Mr. Morley's about recognising faces, and his mention of a patient.

Japp looked doubtful.

"It's possible, I suppose. But it's a bit farfetched. It must have been someone who wanted his identity kept dark. You didn't notice any of the other patients this morning?"

Poirot murmured:

"I noticed in the waiting room a young man who looked exactly like a murderer!"

Japp said, startled:

"What's that?"

Poirot smiled:

"Mon cher, it was upon my arrival here! I was nervous, fanciful – enfin, in a mood. Everything seemed sinister to me, the waiting room, the patients, the very carpet on the stairs! Actually, I think the young man had a very bad toothache. That was all!"

"I know what it can be," said Japp. "However, we'll check up on your murderer all the same. We'll check up on everybody, whether it's suicide or not. I think the first thing is to have another talk with Miss Morley. I've only had a word or two. It was a shock to her, of course, but she's the kind that doesn't break down. We'll go and see her now."

Tall and grim, Georgina Morley listened to what the two men had to say and answered their questions.

She said with emphasis:

"It's incredible to me – quite incredible – that my brother should have committed suicide!"

Poirot said:

"You realize the alternative, Mademoiselle?"

"You mean – murder." She paused. Then she said slowly: "It is true – that alternative seems nearly as impossible as the other."

"But not quite as impossible?"

"No – because – oh, in the first case, you see, I am speaking of something I know – that is, my brother's state of mind. I know he had nothing on his mind – I know that there was no reason – no reason at all why he should take his own life!"

"You saw him this morning – before he started work?"

"At breakfast – yes."

"And he was quite as usual – not upset in any way?"

"He was upset – but not in the way you mean. He was just annoyed!"

"Why was that?"

"He had a busy morning in front of him, and his secretary and assistant had been called away."

"That is Miss Nevill?"

"What did she do for him?"

"She did all his correspondence, of course, and kept the appointment book, and filed all the charts. She also saw to the sterilizing of the instruments and ground up his fillings and handed them to him when he was working."

"Had she been with him long?"

"Three years. She is a very reliable girl and we are – were both very fond of her."

Poirot said:

"She was called away owing to the illness of a relative, so your brother told me."

"Yes, she got a telegram to say her aunt had had a stroke. She went off to Somerset by an early train."

"And that was what annoyed your brother so much?"

"Ye-es." There was a faint hesitation in Miss Morley's answer. She went on rather hurriedly. "You – you mustn't think my brother unfeeling. It was only that he thought – just for a moment -"

"Yes, Miss Morley?"

"Well, that she might have played truant on purpose. Oh! please don't misunderstand me – I'm quite certain that Gladys would never do such a thing. I told Henry so. But the fact of the matter is, that she has got herself engaged to rather an unsuitable young man – Henry was very vexed about it – and it occurred to him that this young man might have persuaded her to take a day off."

"Was that likely?"

"No, I'm sure it wasn't. Gladys is a very conscientious girl."

"But it is the sort of thing the young man might have suggested?"

Miss Morley sniffed.

"Quite likely, I should say."

"What does he do, this young fellow – what is his name, by the way?"

"Carter, Frank Carter. He is – or was – an insurance clerk, I believe. He lost his job some weeks ago and doesn't seem able to get another. Henry said – and I daresay he was right – that he is a complete rotter. Gladys had actually lent him some of her savings and Henry was very annoyed about it."

Japp said sharply:

"Did your brother try to persuade her to break her engagement?"

"Yes, he did, I know."

"Then this Frank Carter would, quite possibly; have a grudge against your brother."

The grenadier said robustly:

"Nonsense – that is if you are suggesting that Frank Carter shot Henry. Henry advised the girl against young Carter, certainly; but she didn't take his advice – she is foolishly devoted to Frank."

"Is there anyone else you can think of who had a grudge against your brother?"

Miss Morley shook her head.

"Did he get on well with his partner, Mr. Reilly?"

Miss Morley replied acidly:

"As well as you can ever hope to get on with an Irishman!"

"What do you mean by that, Miss Morley?"

"Well, Irishmen have hot tempers and they thoroughly enjoy a row of any kind. Mr. Reilly liked arguing about politics."

"That was all?"

"That was all. Mr. Reilly is unsatisfactory in many ways, but he was very skilled in his profession – or so my brother said."

Japp persisted: "How is he unsatisfactory?"

Miss Morley hesitated, then said acidly:

"He drinks too much – but please don't let that go any further."

"Was there any trouble between him and your brother on that subject?"

"Henry gave him one or two hints. In dentistry," continued Miss Morley didactically, "a steady hand is needed, and an alcoholic breath does not inspire confidence."

Japp bowed his head in agreement. Then he said:

"Can you tell us anything of your brother's financial position?"

"Henry was making a good income and he had a certain amount put by. We each had a small private income of our own left to us by our father."

Japp murmured with a slight cough:

"You don't know, I suppose, if your brother left a will?"

"He did – and I can tell you its contents. He left a hundred pounds to Gladys Nevill, otherwise everything comes to me."

"I see. Now -"

There was a fierce thump on the door. Alfred's face then appeared round it. His goggling eyes took in each detail of the two visitors as he ejaculated:

"It's Miss Nevill. She's back – and in a bad state. Shall she come in, she wants to know?"

Japp nodded and Miss Morley said:

"Tell her to come here, Alfred."

"O.K.," said Alfred, and disappeared.

Miss Morley said with a sigh and in obvious capital letters:

"That Boy is a Sad Trial."

Gladys Nevill was a tall, fair, somewhat anaemic girl of about twenty-eight. Though obviously very upset, she at once showed that she was capable and intelligent.

Under the pretext of looking through Mr. Morley's papers, Japp got her away from Miss Morley down to the little office next door to the surgery.

She repeated more than once:

"I simply cannot believe it! It seems quite incredible that Mr. Morley should do such a thing!"