Cards On The Table Part 18

"That is excellent, that. In confidence, that is how I get my little effects."

Then, as Dr. Roberts still looked rather dazed, Poirot said with a smile as he rose to his feet:

"You may at least comprehend this, what you have told me is going to be very

helpful to me in my next interview."

The doctor rose also.

"I can't see how, but I'll take your work for it," he said.

They shook hands.

Poirot went down the steps of the doctor's house, and hailed a pa.s.sing taxi. "111 Cheyne Lane, Chelsea," he told the driver.

CHAPTER 11

Mrs. Lorrimer

111 Cheyne Lane was a small house of very neat and trim appearance standing in a quiet street. The door was painted black and the steps were particularly well whitened, the bra.s.s of the knocker and handle gleamed in the afternoon sun.

The door was opened by an elderly parlourmaid with an immaculate white cap

and ap.r.o.n.

In answer to Poirot's inquiry she said that her mistress was at home.

She preceded him up the narrow staircase.

"What name, sir?"

"M. Hercule Poirot."

He was ushered into a drawing-room of the usual L shape. Poirot looked about

him, noting details. Good furniture, well polished, of the old family type. Shiny

chintz on the chairs and settees. A few silver photograph frames about in the old fashioned manner. Otherwise an agreeable amount of spe and light, and some

really beautiful chrysanthemums arranged in a tall

Mrs. Lorrimer came forward to meet him. She shook hands without showing

any particular surprise at seeing him, indicated a chair, took one herself and

remarked favourably on the weather.

There was a pause.

"I hope, Madame," said Hercule Poirot, "that you will forgive this visit."

Looking directly at him, Mrs. Lorrimer asked:

"Is this a professional visit?"

"I confess it."

"You realise, I suppose, M0 Poirot, that though I shall naturally give

Superintendent Battle and the official police any information and help they may

require, I am by no means bound to do the same for any unofficial investigator?"

"I am quite aware of that fact, Madame. If you show me the door, me, I march

to that door with complete submission."

Mrs. Lorrimer smiled very slightly.

"I am not yet prepared to go to those extremes, M. Poirot, I can give you ten

minutes. At the end of that time I have to go out to a bridge party."

"Ten minutes will be ample for my purpose. I want you to describe to me,

madame, the room in which you played bridge the other evening--the room in

which Mr. Shaitana was killed."

Mrs. Lorrimer's eyebrows rose.

"What an extraordinary questionl I do not see the point of it."

"Madame, if when you were playing bridge, some one were to say to you--

why do you play that ace or why do you put on the knave that is taken by the queen

and not the king which would take the trick? If people were to ask you such

questions, the answers would be rather long and tedious, would they not?"

Mrs. Lorrimer smiled slightly.

"Meaning that in this game you are the expert and I am the novice. Very

well." She reflected a minute. "It was a large room. There were a good many things

in it."