Cards On The Table Part 15

knowing Mr. Shaitana slightly. But one of them knew him well enough to kill him.

It's my job to find out which of them it was."

416

There was an unhelpful pause. Miss Burgess seemed quite uninterested in the performance of Superintendent Battle's job. It was her job to obey her employer's orders and sit here listening to what Superintendent Battle chose to say and answer any direct questions he might choose to put to her.

"You know, Miss Burgess," the superintendent found it uphill work but he persevered, ,"I doubt if you appreciate half the difficulties of our job. People say things, for instance. Well, we mayn't believe a word of it, but we've got to take notice of it all the same. It's particularly noticeable in a case of this kind. I don't want to say anything against your s.e.x but there's no doubt that a woman, when she's rattled, is apt to lash out with her tongue a bit. She makes unfounded accusations, hints this, that and the other, and rakes up all sorts of old scandals that have probably nothing whatever to do with the ease."

"Do you mean," demanded Miss Burgess, "that one of these other people have been saying things against the doctor?"

"Not exactly said anything," said Battle cautiously. "But all the same, I'm bound to take notice. Suspicious circ.u.mstances about the death of a patient.

Probably all a lot of nonsense. I'm ashamed to bother the doctor with it."

"I suppose some one's got hold of that story about Mrs. Graves," said Miss Burgess wrathfully. "The way people talk about things they know nothing whatever about is disgraceful. Lots of old ladies get like that they think everybody is poisoning them--their relations and their servants and even their doctors. Mrs.

Graves had had three doctors before she came to Dr. Roberts and then when she got the same fancies about him he was quite willing for her to have Dr. Lee instead. It's the only thing to do in these cases, he said. And after Dr. Lee she had Dr. Steele, and then Dr. Farmer--until she died, poor old thing."

"You'd be surprised the way the smallest thing starts a story," said Battle.

"Whenever a doctor benefits by the death of a patient somebody has something ill-natured to say. And yet why shouldn't a grateful patient leave a little something, or even a big something to her medical attendant."

"It's the relations," said Miss Burgess. "I always think there's nothing like death for bringing out the meanness of human nature. Squabbling over who's to have what before the body's cold. Luckily, Dr. Roberts has never had any trouble of that kind. He always says he hopes his patients won't leave him anything. I believe he once had a legacy of fifty pounds and he's had two walking-sticks and a gold watch, but nothing else."

"It's a difficult life, that of a professional man," said Battle with a sigh. "He's always open to blackmail. The most innocent occtrrences lend themselves sometimes to a scandalous appearance. A doctor's got to avoid even the appearance of evil--that means he's got to have his wits about him good and sharp."

"A lot of what you say is true," said Miss Burgess. "Doctors have a dicult time with hysterical women."

"Hysterical women. That's right. I thought, in my own mind, that that was all it amounted to."

"I suppose you mean that dreadful Mrs. Craddock?"

Battle pretended to think.

"Let me see, was it three years ago? No, more."

"Four or five, I think. She was a most unbalanced woman! I was glad when she went abroad and so was Dr. Roberts. She told her husband the most frightful lies--they always do, of course. Poor man, he wasn't quite himself he'd begun to be ill.

He died of anthrax, you know, an infected shaving brush."

"I'd forgotten that," said Battle untruthfully.

417 "And then she ent abroad and died not long afterwards. But I always thought she was a nasty type,f woman--man-mad, you know."

"I know the kind, said Battle. "Very dangerous, they are. A doctor's got to give them a wide berth. Whereabouts did she die abroad I don't seem to remember." "Egypt, I think it was.

She got blood-poisoning--some native infection."

"Another thing that must be difficult for a doctor," said Battle, making a conversational leap, "is when he suspects that one of his patients is being poisoned by one of their relatives. What's he to do? He's got to be sure--or else hold his tongue. And if he's done the latter, then it's awkward for him if there's talk of foul play afterwards. I wonder if any case of that kind has ever come Dr. Roberts' way?"

"I really don't think it has," said Miss Burgess, considering. "I've never heard of anything like that."

"From the statistical point of view, it would be interesting to know how many deaths occur among a doctor's pr,,actice per year. For instance now, you've been with Dr. Roberts some years "Seven." '

"Seven. Well, how many deaths have there been in that time offhand?"

"Really, it's difficult tO say." Miss Burgess gave herself up to calculation. She was by now quite thawed and unsuspicious. "Seven, eight--of course, I can't remember exact]y--I shouldn't say more than thirty in the time."

"Then I fancy Dr. Roberts must be a better doctor than most," said Battle genially. "I suppose, too, most of his patients are upper-cla.s.s. They can afford to take care of themselves.'

"He's a very popular doctor. He's so good at diagnosis.'

Battle sighed and rose to his feet.

"I'm afraid I've been wandering from my duty, which is to find out a connection between the doctor and this Mr. Shaitana. You're quite sure he wasn't a patient of the doctor's?"

"Quite sure.'

"Under another name, perhaps?" Battle handed her a photograph. "Recognise him at all?"

"What a very theatrical-looking person. No, I've never seen him here at any time."

"Well, that's that." Battle sighed. "I'm much obliged to the doctor, I'm sure, for being so pleasant about everything. Tell him so from me, will you? Tell him I'm pa.s.sing on to No. 2. Good-bye, Miss Burgess, and thank you for your help."

He shook hands and departed. Walking along the street he took a small notebook from his pocket and made a couple of entries in it under the letter R.

Mrs. Graves? unlikely.

Mrs. Craddock?

No legacies.

No wife. (Pity.) Investigate deaths of patients. Difficult.

He closed the book and turned into the Lancaster Gate branch of the London & Wess.e.x Bank.

The display of his offleial card brought him to a private interview with the manager.

"Good-morning, sir. One of your clients is a Dr. Geoffrey Roberts, I understand."

418

"Quite correct, superinterdent."

"I shall want some information about that gentleman's account going back over a period of years."

"I will see what I can do for you."

A complicated half-hour followed. Finally Battle, with a sigh, tucked away a sheet of pencilled figures.

"Got what you want?" inquired the bank manager curiously.

"No, I haven't. Not one suggestive lead. Thank you all the same."

At the same moment, Dr. Ro!erts, washing his hands in his consulting-room, said over his shoulder to Miss Burgess:

"What about our stolid sleuth, eh? Did he turn the place upside down and you inside out?"

"He didn't get much out of me, I can tell you," said Miss Burgess, setting her lips tightly.

"My dear girl, no need to be an oyster. I told you to tell him all he wanted to know. What did he want to ktow, by the way?"

"Oh, he kept harping oh your knowing that man Shaitana--suggested even that he might have come her as a patient under a different name. He showed me his photograph. Such a theatrical-looking man!"

"Shaitana? Oh, yes, fond of posing as a modern Mephistopheles. It went down rather well on the whole. What else did Battle ask you?"

"Really nothing very much. Except---oh, yes somebody had been telling him some absurd nonsense about Mrs. Graves--you know the way she used to go on."

"Graves? Graves? Oh, ys, old Mrs. Graves! That's rather funny!" The doctor laughed with considerable arus.e.m.e.nt. "That's really very funny indeed."

And in high good humohr he went in to lunch.

CHAPTER 10

Dr. Roberts (continued)

Superintendent Battle was ltmching with M. Hercule Poirot.

The former looked downcast, the latter sympathetic.