Cards On The Table Part 13

"I'm so sorry. I'm talking shop. And this is a real murder." Her face lit up.

"What a good idea it would be if none of them had murdered him. If he'd asked

them all, and then quietly committed suicide just for the fun of making a

schemozzle."

Poirot nodded approvingly.

"An admirable solution. So neat. So ironic. But, alas, Mr. Shaitana was not

that sort of man. He was very fond of life."

"I don't think he was really a nice man," said Mrs. Oliver slowly.

"He was not nice, no," said Poirot. "But he was alive--and now he is dead,

and as I told him once, I have a bourgeois att.i.tude to murder. I disapprove of it."

He added softly: "And soI am prepared to go inside the tiger's cage "

CHAPTER 9

Dr. Roberts

"Good-morning, Superintendent Battle."

Dr. Roberts rose from his chair and offered a large pink hand smelling of a mixture of good soap and faint carbolic.

"How are things going?" he went on.

/uperintendent Battle glanced round the comfortable consulting-room before swering.

"Well, Dr. Roberts, strictly speaking, they're not going. They're standing still."

"There's been nothing much in the papers, I've been glad to see."

"Sudden death of the well-known Mr. Shaitana at an evening party in his own house. It's left at that for the moment. We've had the' autopsy--I brought a report of the findings along--thought it might interest you- "

"That's very kind of you--it would--h'm--h'm. Yes, very interesting."

He handed it back.

"And we've interviewed Mr. Shaitana's solicitor. We know the terms of his will. Nothing of interest there. He has relatives in Syria, it seems. And then, of course, we've been through all his private papers."

Was it fancy or did that broad, clean-shaven countenance look a little strained--a little wooden?

"And?" said Dr. Roberts.

"Nothing," said Superintendent Battle, watching him.

There wasn't a sigh of relief. Nothing so blatant as that. But the doctor's figure

seemed to relax just a shade more comfortably in his chair.

"And so you've come to me?"

"And so, as you say, I've come to you."

The doctor's eyebrows rose a little and his shrewd eyes looked into Battle's.

"Want to go through my private papers---eh?" "That was my idea."

"Got a search-warrant?" "No."

"Well, you could get one easily enough, I suppose. I'm not going to make difficulties. It's not very pleasant being suspected of murder but I suppose I can't blame you for what's obviously your duty."

"Thank you, sir," said Superintendent Battle with real grat.i.tude. "I appreciate your att.i.tude, if I may say so, very much. I hope all the others will be as reasonable, I'm sure."

"What can't be cured must be endured," said the doctor good-humouredly.

He went on:

"I've finished seeing my patients here. I'm just offon my rounds. I'll leave you my keys and just say a word to my secretary and you can rootle to your heart's content."

"That's all very nice and pleasant, I'm sure," said Battle. "I'd like to ask you a few more questions before you go."

414

"About the other night? Really, I told you all I know."

"No, not about the other night. About yourself."

"Well, man, ask away, what do you want to know?"

"I'd just like a rough sketch of your career, Dr. Roberts. Birth, marriage, and SO on."

"It will get me into practice for Who's Who," said the doctor dryly. 'My career's a perfectly straightforward one. I'm a Shropshire man, born at Ludlow. My father was in practice there. He died when I was fifteen. I was educated at Shrewsbury and went in for medicine like my father before me. I'm a St.

Christopher's man but you'll have all the medical details already, I expect."

"I looked you up, yes, sir. You an only child or have you any brothers or sisters?"

"I'm an only child. Both my parents are dead and I'm unmarried. Will that do to get on with? I came into partnership here with Dr. Emery. He retired about fifteen years ago. Lives in Ireland. I'll give you his address if you like. I live here with a cook, a parlourmaid and a housemaid. My secretary comes in daily. I make a good income and I only kill a reasonable number of my patients. How's that?"

Superintendent Battle grinned.

"That's fairly comprehensive, Dr. Roberts. I'm glad you've got a sense of humour. Now I'm going to ask you one more thing."

"I'm a strictly moral man, superintendent."

"Oh, that wasn't my meaning. No, I was just going to ask you if you'd give me the names of four friends--people who've known you intimately for a number of years. Kind of references, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, I think so. Let me see now. You'd prefer people who are actually in London now?"

"It would make it a bit easier, but it doesn't really matter."

The doctor thought for a minute or two, then with his fountain-pen he scribbled four names and addresses on a sheet of paper and pushed it across the desk to Battle.