One, Two, Buckle My Shoe

‘Cor—I never thought of that! He went into the waiting-room, but he wasn’t there later. He must have got tired of waiting, and thought he’d come back another time.’

When Alfred had gone out of the room, Japp said sharply:

‘D’you think it wise to suggest murder to that lad?’

Poirot shrugged his shoulders.

‘I think so—yes. Anything suggestive that he may have seen or heard will come back to him under the stimulus, and he will be keenly alert to everything that goes on here.’

‘All the same, we don’t want it to get about too soon.’

‘Mon cher, it will not. Alfred reads detective stories—Alfred is enamoured of crime. Whatever Alfred lets slip will be put down to Alfred’s morbid criminal imagination.’

‘Well, perhaps you are right, Poirot. Now we’ve got to hear what Reilly has to say.’

Mr Reilly’s surgery and office were on the first floor. They were as spacious as the ones above but had less light in them, and were not quite so richly appointed.

Mr Morley’s partner was a tall, dark young man, with a plume of hair that fell untidily over his forehead. He had an attractive voice and a very shrewd eye.

‘We’re hoping, Mr Reilly,’ said Japp, after introducing himself, ‘that you can throw some light on this matter.’

‘You’re wrong then, because I can’t,’ replied the other. ‘I’d say this—that Henry Morley was the last person to go taking his own life. I might have done it—but he wouldn’t.’

‘Why might you have done it?’ asked Poirot.

‘Because I’ve oceans of worries,’ replied the other. ‘Money troubles, for one! I’ve never yet been able to suit my expenditure to my income. But Morley was a careful man. You’ll find no debts, nor money troubles, I’m sure of that.’

‘Love affairs?’ suggested Japp.

‘Is it Morley you mean? He had no joy of living at all! Right under his sister’s thumb he was, poor man.’

Japp went on to ask Reilly details about the patients he had seen that morning.

‘Oh, I fancy they’re all square and above-board. Little Betty Heath, she’s a nice child—I’ve had the whole family one after another. Colonel Abercrombie’s an old patient, too.’

‘What about Mr Howard Raikes?’ asked Japp.

Reilly grinned broadly.

‘The one who walked out on me? He’s never been to me before. I know nothing about him. He rang up and particularly asked for an appointment this morning.’

‘Where did he ring up from?’

‘Holborn Palace Hotel. He’s an American, I fancy.’

‘So Alfred said.’

‘Alfred should know,’ said Mr Reilly. ‘He’s a film fan, our Alfred.’

‘And your other patient?’

‘Barnes? A funny precise little man. Retired Civil Servant. Lives out Ealing way.’

Japp paused a minute and then said:

‘What can you tell us about Miss Nevill?’

Mr Reilly raised his eyebrows.

‘The bee-yewtiful blonde secretary? Nothing doing, old boy! Her relations with old Morley were perfectly pewer—I’m sure of it.’

‘I never suggested they weren’t,’ said Japp, reddening slightly.

‘My fault,’ said Reilly. ‘Excuse my filthy mind, won’t you? I thought it might be an attempt on your part to cherchez la femme.

‘Excuse me for speaking your language,’ he added parenthetically to Poirot. ‘Beautiful accent, haven’t I? It comes of being educated by nuns.’

Japp disapproved of this flippancy. He asked:

‘Do you know anything about the young man she is engaged to? His name is Carter, I understand. Frank Carter.’

‘Morley didn’t think much of him,’ said Reilly. ‘He tried to get la Nevill to turn him down.’

‘That might have annoyed Carter?’

‘Probably annoyed him frightfully,’ agreed Mr Reilly cheerfully.

He paused and then added:

‘Excuse me, this is a suicide you are investigating, not a murder?’

Japp said sharply:

‘If it were a murder, would you have anything to suggest?’

‘Not I! I’d like it to be Georgina! One of those grim females with temperance on the brain. But I’m afraid Georgina is full of moral rectitude. Of course I could easily have nipped upstairs and shot the old boy myself, but I didn’t. In fact, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to kill Morley. But then I can’t conceive of his killing himself.’

He added—in a different voice:

‘As a matter of fact, I’m very sorry about it … You mustn’t judge by my manner. That’s just nervousness, you know. I was fond of old Morley and I shall miss him.’

Japp put down the telephone receiver. His face, as he turned to Poirot, was rather grim.

He said:

‘Mr Amberiotis isn’t feeling very well—would rather not see any one this afternoon.

‘He’s going to see me—and he’s not going to give me the slip either! I’ve got a man at the Savoy ready to trail him if he tries to make a get-away.’