Cards on the Table by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online Page A

later.”
    â€œA cocktail party here?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhere did it take place—this room or the drawing room?”
    â€œIn all the rooms.”
    â€œSee this little thing lying about?”
    Battle once more produced the stiletto.
    Major Despard’s lip twisted slightly.
    â€œNo,” he said. “I didn’t mark it down on that occasion for future use.”
    â€œThere’s no need to go ahead of what I say, Major Despard.”
    â€œI beg your pardon. The inference was fairly obvious.”
    There was a moment’s pause, then Battle resumed his inquiries.
    â€œHad you any motive for disliking Mr. Shaitana?”
    â€œEvery motive.”
    â€œEh?” The superintendent sounded startled.
    â€œFor disliking him—not for killing him,” said Despard. “I hadn’t the least wish to kill him, but I would thoroughly have enjoyed kicking him. A pity. It’s too late now.”
    â€œWhy did you want to kick him, Major Despard?”
    â€œBecause he was the sort of Dago who needed kicking badly. He used to make the toe of my boot fairly itch.”
    â€œKnow anything about him—to his discredit, I mean?”
    â€œHe was too well dressed—he wore his hair too long—and he smelt of scent.”
    â€œYet you accepted his invitation to dinner,” Battle pointed out.
    â€œIf I were only to dine in houses where I thoroughly approved of my host I’m afraid I shouldn’t dine out very much, Superintendent Battle,” said Despard drily.
    â€œYou like society, but you don’t approve of it?” suggested the other.
    â€œI like it for very short periods. To come back from the wilds to lighted rooms and women in lovely clothes, to dancing and goodfood and laughter—yes, I enjoy that—for a time. And then the insincerity of it all sickens me, and I want to be off again.”
    â€œIt must be a dangerous sort of life that you lead, Major Despard, wandering about in these wild places.”
    Despard shrugged his shoulders. He smiled slightly.
    â€œMr. Shaitana didn’t lead a dangerous life—but he is dead, and I am alive!”
    â€œHe may have led a more dangerous life than you think,” said Battle meaningly.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œThe late Mr. Shaitana was a bit of a Nosey Parker,” said Battle.
    The other leaned forward.
    â€œYou mean that he meddled with other people’s lives—that he discovered—what?”
    â€œI really meant that perhaps he was the sort of man who meddled—er—well, with women.”
    Major Despard leant back in his chair. He laughed, an amused but indifferent laugh.
    â€œI don’t think women would take a mountebank like that seriously.”
    â€œWhat’s your theory of who killed him, Major Despard?”
    â€œWell, I know I didn’t. Little Miss Meredith didn’t. I can’t imagine Mrs. Lorrimer doing so—she reminds me of one of my more God-fearing aunts. That leaves the medical gentleman.”
    â€œCan you describe your own and other people’s movements this evening?”
    â€œI got up twice—once for an ashtray, and I also poked the fire—and once for a drink—”
    â€œAt what times?”
    â€œI couldn’t say. First time might have been about half past ten, the second time eleven, but that’s pure guesswork. Mrs. Lorrimer went over to the fire once and said something to Shaitana. I didn’t actually hear him answer, but, then, I wasn’t paying attention. I couldn’t swear he didn’t. Miss Meredith wandered about the room a bit, but I don’t think she went over near the fireplace. Roberts was always jumping up and down—three or four times at least.”
    â€œI’ll ask you M. Poirot’s question,” said Battle with a smile. “What did you think of them as bridge players?”
    â€œMiss Meredith’s quite a good player.