Agatha Christie: Dumb Witness

"Your cheerful optimism never fails to delight me, Hastings!"

"My goodness, Poirot, you don't think she'll turn up in parcels or dismembered in a trunk?"

Poirot said slowly:

"I find the anxiety of Dr Tanios somewhat excessive – but no more of that. The first thing to do is to interview Miss Lawson."

"Are you going to point out that little error over the brooch?"

"Certainly not. That little fact remains up my sleeve until the right moment comes."

"Then what are you going to say to her?"

"That, mon ami, you will hear in due course."

"More lies, I suppose?"

"You are really very offensive sometimes, Hastings. Anybody would think I enjoyed telling lies."

"I rather think you do. In fact, I'm sure of it."

"It is true that I sometimes compliment myself upon my ingenuity," Poirot confessed naively.

I could not help giving a shout of laughter. Poirot looked at me reproachfully and we set if for Clanroyden Mansions.

We were shown into the same crowded sitting-room and Miss Lawson came bustling in, her manner even more incoherent than usual.

"Oh, dear, M. Poirot, good-morning. Such a to-do – rather untidy, I'm afraid. But then, everything is at sixes and sevens this morning. Ever since Bella arrived -"

"What is that you say? Bella?"

"Yes, Bella Tanios. She turned up half an hour ago – and the children – completely exhausted, poor soul! Really, I don't know what to do about it. You see, she's left her husband."

"Left him?"

"So she says. Of course, I've no doubt she's fully justified, poor thing."

"She has confided in you?"

"Well – not exactly that. In fact, she won't say anything at all. Just repeats that she's left him and that nothing will induce her to go back to him!"

"That is a very serious step to take."

"Of course it is! In fact, if he'd been an Englishman, I would have advised her – but there, he isn't an Englishman… And she looks so peculiar, poor thing, so – well, so scared. What can he have been doing to her? I believe Turks are frightfully cruel sometimes."

"Dr Tanios is a Greek."

"Yes, of course, that's the other way about – I mean, they're usually the ones who get massacred by the Turks – or am I thinking of Armenians? But all the same, I don't like to think of it. I don't think she ought to go back to him, do you, M. Poirot? Anyway, I mean, she says she won't… She doesn't even want him to know where she is."

"As bad as that?"

"Yes, you see it's the children. She's so afraid he could take them back to Smyrna. Poor soul, she really is in a terrible way. You see, she's got no money – no money at all. She doesn't know where to go or what to do. She wants to try and earn her living, but, really, you know, M. Poirot, that's not so easy as it sounds. I know that. It's not as though she were trained for anything."

"When did she leave her husband?"

"Yesterday. She spent last night in a little hotel near Paddington. She came to me because she couldn't think of any one else to go to, poor thing."

"And are you going to help her? That is very good of you."

"Well, you see, M. Poirot, I really feel it's my duty. But, of course, it's all very difficult. This is a very small flat and there's no room – and what with one thing and another."

"You could send her to Littlegreen House?"

"I suppose I could – but, you see, her husband might think of that. Just for the moment I've got her rooms at the Wellington Hotel in Queen's Road. She's staying there under the name of Mrs Peters."

"I see," said Poirot.

He paused for a minute, then said:

"I would like to see Mrs Tanios. You see, she called at my flat yesterday but I was out."

"Oh, did she? She didn't tell me that. I'll tell her, shall I?"

"If you would be so good."

Miss Lawson hurried out of the room. We could hear her voice.

"Bella – Bella – my dear, will you come and see M. Poirot?"

We did not hear Mrs Tanios's reply, but a minute or two later she came into the room.

I was really shocked at her appearance.

There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheeks were completely destitute of colour, but what struck me far more than this was her obvious air of terror. She started at the least provocation, and she seemed to be continually listening.

Poirot greeted her in his most soothing manner. He came forward, shook hands, arranged a chair for her and handed her a cushion. He treated the pale, frightened woman as though she had been a queen.

"And now, madame, let us have a little chat. You came to see me yesterday, I believe?"

She nodded.

"I regret very much that I was away from home."

"Yes – yes, I wish you had been there."

"You came because you wanted to tell me something?"

"Yes, I – I meant to -"

"Eh bien. I am here, at your service."

Mrs Tanios did not respond. She sat quite still, twisting a ring round and round on her chair.

"Well, madame?"

Slowly, almost reluctantly, she shook her head.

"No," she said. "I daren't."

"You daren't, madame?"

"No. I – if he knew – he'd – Oh, something would happen to me!"

"Come, come, madame – that is absurd."

"Oh, but it isn't absurd – it isn't absurd at all. You don't know him…"

"By him, you mean your husband, madame?"

"Yes, of course."

Poirot was silent a minute or two, then he said:

"Your husband came to see me yesterday, madame."

A quick look of alarm sprang up in her face.

"Oh, no! You didn't tell him – but of course you didn't! You couldn't. You didn't know where I was. Did he – did he say I was mad?"

Poirot answered cautiously.

"He said that you were – highly nervous."

But she shook her head, undeceived.

"No, he said that I was mad – or that I was going mad! He wants to shut me up so that I shan't be able to tell any one ever."

"Tell any one – what?"

But she shook her head. Twisting her fingers nervously round and round, she muttered:

"I'm afraid…"

"But, madame, once you have told me – you are safe! The secret is out! The fact will protect you automatically."

But she did not reply. She went on twisting – twisting at her ring.

"You must see that yourself," said Poirot gently.

She gave a sort of gasp.

"How am I to know?… Oh, dear, it's terrible. He's so plausible! And he's a doctor! People will believe him and not me. I know they will. I should myself. Nobody will believe me. How could they?"

"You will not even give me the chance?"

She shot a troubled glance at him.

"How do I know? You may be on his side."

"I am on no one's side, madame. I am – always – on the side of the truth."

"I don't know," said Mrs Tanios hopelessly. "Oh, I don't know."

She went on, her words gathering volume, tumbling over each other.

"It's been so awful – for years now. I've seen things happening again and again. And I couldn't say anything or do anything. There have been the children. It's been like a long nightmare. And now this… But I won't go back to him. I won't let him have the children! I'll go somewhere where he can't find me. Mina Lawson will help me. She's been so kind – so wonderfully kind. Nobody could have been kinder."

She stopped, then shot a quick look at Poirot and asked:

"What did he say about me? Did he say I had delusions?"

"He said, madame, that you had – changed towards him."

She nodded.

"And he said I had delusions. He did say that, didn't he?"

"Yes, madame, to be frank, he did."

"That's it, you see. That's what it will sound like. And I've no proof – no real proof."

Poirot leaned back in his chair. When he next spoke it was with an entire change of manner.

He spoke in a matter-of-fact, businesslike voice with as little emotion as if he had been discussing some dry matter of business.