Cards on the Table by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online

Lorrimer.”
    â€œOh, I don’t . I’m sure she wouldn’t. She’s so charming—and so kind to play bridge with. She’s so good herself, and yet she doesn’t make one feel nervous, or point out one’s mistakes.”
    â€œYet you left her name to the last,” said Battle.
    â€œOnly because stabbing seems somehow more like a woman.”
    Battle did his conjuring trick. Anne Meredith shrank back.
    â€œOh, horrible. Must I—take it?”
    â€œI’d rather you did.”
    He watched her as she took the stiletto gingerly, her face contracted with repulsion.
    â€œWith this tiny thing—with this—”
    â€œGo in like butter,” said Battle with gusto. “A child could do it.”
    â€œYou mean—you mean”—wide, terrified eyes fixed themselves on his face—“that I might have done it? But I didn’t. Why should I?”
    â€œThat’s just the question we’d like to know,” said Battle. “What’s the motive? Why did anyone want to kill Shaitana? He was a picturesque person, but he wasn’t dangerous, as far as I can make out.”
    Was there a slight indrawing of her breath—a sudden lifting of her breast?
    â€œNot a blackmailer, for instance, or anything of that sort?” went on Battle. “And anyway, Miss Meredith, you don’t look the sort of girl who’s got a lot of guilty secrets.”
    For the first time she smiled, reassured by his geniality.
    â€œNo, indeed I haven’t. I haven’t got any secrets at all.”
    â€œThen don’t worry, Miss Meredith. We shall have to come round and ask you a few more questions, I expect, but it will be all a matter of routine.”
    He got up.
    â€œNow off you go. My constable will get you a taxi; and don’t you lie awake worrying yourself. Take a couple of aspirins.”
    He ushered her out. As he came back Colonel Race said in a low, amused voice:
    â€œBattle, what a really accomplished liar you are! Your fatherly air was unsurpassed.”
    â€œNo good dallying about with her, Colonel Race. Either the poor kid is dead scared—in which case it’s cruelty, and I’m not a cruel man; I never have been—or she’s a highly accomplished little actress, and we shouldn’t get any further if we were to keep her here half the night.”
    Mrs. Oliver gave a sigh and ran her hands freely through her fringe until it stood upright and gave her a wholly drunken appearance.
    â€œDo you know,” she said, “I rather believe now that she did it! It’s lucky it’s not in a book. They don’t really like the young and beautiful girl to have done it. All the same, I rather think she did. What do you think, M. Poirot?”
    â€œMe, I have just made a discovery.”
    â€œIn the bridge scores again?”
    â€œYes, Miss Anne Meredith turns her score over, draws lines and uses the back.”
    â€œAnd what does that mean?”
    â€œIt means she has the habit of poverty or else is of a naturally economical turn of mind.”
    â€œShe’s expensively dressed,” said Mrs. Oliver.
    â€œSend in Major Despard,” said Superintendent Battle.

Seven
F OURTH M URDERER?
    D espard entered the room with a quick springing step—a step that reminded Poirot of something or someone.
    â€œI’m sorry to have kept you waiting all this while, Major Despard,” said Battle. “But I wanted to let the ladies get away as soon as possible.”
    â€œDon’t apologize. I understand.”
    He sat down and looked inquiringly at the superintendent.
    â€œHow well did you know Mr. Shaitana?” began the latter.
    â€œI’ve met him twice,” said Despard crisply.
    â€œOnly twice?”
    â€œThat’s all.”
    â€œOn what occasions?”
    â€œAbout a month ago we were both dining at the same house. Then he asked me to a cocktail party a week