surprise, that, because she'd got relations
living here, and she'd come here anyway
272
to live near them. She was very devoted
to them, Mr. Drake, in particular. And it
struck people as pretty queer, really. And
then the lawyers, you see, they began
saying things. They said as Mrs.
Llewellyn-Smythe hadn't written that
codicil at all. That the foreign pair girl had
done it, seeing as she got all the money
left to her. And they said as they were
going to law about it. That Mrs. Drake
was going to counterset the Will, if that is
the right word."
"The lawyers were going to contest the
Will. Yes, I believe I did hear something
about that," said Mrs. Oliver encouragingly.
"And you know something about it, perhaps?"
"I didn't mean no harm," said Mrs.
Leaman. A slight whine came into her
voice, a whine with which Mrs. Oliver had
been acquainted several times in the past.
Mrs. Leaman, she thought, was presumably
an unreliable woman in some ways, a
snooper perhaps, a listener at doors.
"I didn't say nothing at the time," said
Mrs. Leaman, "because you see I didn't
rightly know. But you see I thought it was
queer and I'll admit to a lady like you,
273
who knows what these things are, that I
did want to know the truth about it. I'd
worked for Mrs. Llewellyn-Smythe for
some time, I had, and one wants to know
how things happened."
"Quite," said Mrs. Oliver.
"If I thought I'd done what I oughtn't
to have done, well, of course, I'd have
owned up to it. But I didn't think as I'd
done anything really wrong, you see. Not
at the time, if you understand," she added.
"Oh yes," said Mrs. Oliver, "I'm sure
I shall understand. Go on. It was about
this codicil."
"Yes, you see one day Mrs. LlewellynSmythe--she
hadn't felt too good that day
and so she asked us to come in. Me that
was, and young Jim who helps down in
the garden and brings the sticks in and the
coals, and things like that. So we went into
her room, where she was, and she'd got
papers before her there on the desk. And
she turns to this foreign girl-- Miss Olga
we all called her--and said "You go out of
the room now, dear, because you mustn't
be mixed up in this part of it,' or something
like that. So Miss Olga, she goes out
of the room and Mrs. LlewellynSmythe,
274
she tells us to come close and she says
This is my Will, this is.' She's got a bit
of blotting paper over the top part of it
but the bottom of it's quite clear. She said
'I'm writing something here on this piece
of paper and I want you to be a witness of
what I've written and of my signature at
the end of it.' So she starts writing along
the page. Scratchy pen she always used,
she wouldn't use Biros or anything like
that. And she writes two or three lines of
writing and then she signed her name, and
then she says to me, 'Now, Mrs. Leaman,
you write your name there. Your name
and your address' and then she says to Jim
'And now you write your name underneath
there, and your address too. There. That'll
do. Now you've seen me write that and
you've seen my signature and you've
written your names, both of you, to say
that's that.' And then she says That's all.
Thank you very much.' So we goes out of
the room. Well, I didn't think nothing
more of it at the time, but I wondered a
bit. And it happened as I turns my head
just as I was going out of the room. You
see the door doesn't always latch properly.
You have to give it a pull, to make it click.
275
And so I was doing that--I wasn't really
looking, if you know what I mean--"
"I know what you mean," said Mrs.
Oliver, in a non-committal voice.
"And so I sees Mrs. LlewellynSmythe
arthritis and had pain moving about some- times--and go over to the bookcase and
she pulled out a book and she puts that
piece of paper she'd just signed--in an
envelope it was--in one of the books. A
big tall book it was in the bottom shelf.
And she sticks it back in the bookcase.
Well, I never thought of it again, as you
might say. No, really I didn't. But when
all this fuss came up, well, of course I felt
--at least, I--" She came to a stop.
Mrs. Oliver had one of her useful
intuitions.
"But surely," she said, "you didn't wait
as long as all that--"
"Well, I'll tell you the truth, I will. I'll
admit I was curious. After all, I mean, you
want to know when you've signed anything, what you've signed, don't you? I
mean, it's only human nature."
"Yes," said Mrs. Oliver, "it's only
human nature."
276
Curiosity, she thought, was a highly
component part in Mrs. Leaman's human
nature.
"So I will admit that next day, when
Mrs. Llewellyn-Smythe had driven into
Medchester and I was doing her bedroom
as usual--a bedsitting room she had
because she had to rest a lot. And I thinks 'Well, one ought really to know when
you've signed a thing, what it is you've
signed.' I mean they always say with these
hire purchase things, you should read the
small print."
"Or in this case, the handwriting,"
suggested Mrs. Oliver.
"So I thought, well, there's no harm--
it's not as though I was taking anything. I
mean to say I'd had to sign my name
there, and I thought I really ought to know
what I'd signed. So I had a look along the
bookshelves. They needed dusting anyway.
And I found the one. It was on the
bottom shelf. It was an old book, a sort of
Queen Victoria's kind of book. And I
found this envelope with a folded paper in
it and the title of the book said Enquire Within upon Everything. And it seemed
277
then as though it was, sort of meant, if
you know what I mean?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Oliver. "It was clearly
meant. And so you took out the paper and
looked at it."
"That's right. Madam. And whether I
did wrong or not I don't know. But
anyway, there it was. It was a legal document
all right. On the last page there was
the writing what she'd made the morning
before. New writing with a new scratchy
pen she was using. It was clear enough to
read, though, although she had a rather
spiky handwriting."
"And what did it say?" said Mrs.
Oliver, her curiosity now h
aving joined
itself to that previously felt by Mrs.
Leaman.
"Well, it said something like, as far as I
remember--the exact words I'm not quite
sure of--something about a codicil and
that after the legacies mentioned in her
Will, she bequeathed her entire fortune to
Olga--I'm not sure of the surname, it
began with an S. Seminoff, or something
like that--in consideration of her great
kindness and attention to her during her
illness. And there it was written down and
278
she'd signed it and I'd signed it, and Jim
had signed it. So I put it back where
it was because I shouldn't like Mrs.
Llewellyn-Smythe to know that I'd been
poking about in her things.
"But well, I said to myself, well, this is a surprise. And I thought, fancy that
foreign girl getting all that money because
we all know as Mrs. LlewellynSmythe
was very rich. Her husband had been in
shipbuilding and he'd left her a big
fortune, and I thought, well, some people
have all the luck. Mind you, I wasn't
particularly fond of Miss Olga myself. She
had a sharp way with her sometimes and she had quite a bad temper. But I will say
as she was always very attentive and polite
and all that, to the old lady. Looking out
for herself all right, she was, and she got
away with it. And I thought, well, leaving
all that money away from her own family.
Then I thought, well, perhaps she's had a
tiff with them and likely as not that will
blow over, so maybe she'll tear this up and
make another Will and codicil after all.
But anyway, that was that, and I put it
back and I forgot about it, I suppose.
"But when all the fuss came up about
279
the Will, and there was talk of how it had
been forged and Mrs. LlewellynSmythe
could never have written that codicil
herself--for that's what they were saying, mind you, as it wasn't the old lady who
had written that at all, it was somebody
else--"
"I see," said Mrs. Oliver. "And so, what did you do?"
"I didn't do anything. And that's what's
worrying me. ... I didn't get the hang of
things at once. And when I'd thought
things over a bit I didn't know rightly what I ought to do and I thought, well, it
was all talk because the Lawyers were
against the foreigner, like people always
are. I'm not very fond of foreigners
myself, I'll admit. At any rate, there it
was, and the young lady herself was
swanking about, giving herself airs, looking as pleased as Punch and I thought, well, maybe it's all a legal thing of some
kind and they'll say she's no right to the
money because she wasn't related to the
old lady. So everything will be all right.
And it was in a way because, you see, they
gave up the idea of bringing the case. It
didn't come to court at all and as far as
280
anyone knew. Miss Olga ran away. Went
off back to the Continent somewhere, where she came from. So it looks as
though there must have been some hocuspocus
of some kind on her part. Maybe
she threatened the old lady and made her
do it. You never know, do you? One of
my nephews who's going to be a doctor, says you can do wonderful things
with hypnotism. I thought perhaps she
hypnotised the old lady."
"This was how long ago?"
"Mrs. Llewellyn-Smythe's been dead
for--let me see, nearly two years."
"And it didn't worry you?"
"No, it didn't worry me. Not at the
time. Because you see, I didn't rightly see
that it mattered. Everything was all right, there wasn't any question of that Miss
Olga getting away with the money, so I
didn't see as it was any call for me--"
"But now you feel differently?"
"It's that nasty death--that child that
was pushed into a bucket of apples. Saying
things about a murder, saying she'd seen
something or known something about a
murder. And I thought maybe as Miss
Olga had murdered the old lady because
HP19
281
she knew all this money was coming to her
and then she got the wind up when there
was a fuss and lawyers and the police, maybe, and so she ran away. So then I
thought well, perhaps I ought to--well, I
ought to tell someone, and I thought you'd
be a lady as has got friends in legal departments.
Friends in the police perhaps, and
you'd explain to them that I was only
dusting a bookshelf, and this paper was
there in a book and I put it back where it
belonged. I didn't take it away or
anything."
"But that's what happened, was it, on
that occasion? You saw Mrs. LlewellynSmythe
write a codicil to her Will. You
saw her write her name and you yourself
and this Jim someone were both there
and you both wrote your own names
yourselves. That's it, isn't it?"
"That's right."
"So if you both saw Mrs. LlewellynSmythe
write her name, then that signature
couldn't have been a forgery, could
it? Not if you saw her write it herself."
"I saw her write it herself and that's the
absolute truth I'm speaking. And Jim'd
say so too only he's gone to Australia, he
282
has. Went over a year ago and I don't
know his address or anything. He didn't
come from these parts, anyway."
"And what do you want me to do?"
"Well, I want you to tell me if there's
anything I ought to say, or do—now.
Nobody's asked me, mind you. Nobody
ever asked me if I knew anything about a
Will."
"Your name is Leaman. What Christian
name?"
"Harriet."
"Harriet Leaman. And Jim, what was
his last name?"
"Well, now, what was it? Jenkins.
That's right. James Jenkins. I'd be much
obliged if you could help me because it
worries me, you see. All this trouble
coming along and if that Miss Olga did
it, murdered Mrs. Llewellyn-Smythe, I
mean, and young Joyce saw her do it ...
She was ever so cock-a-hoop about it all,
Miss Olga was, I mean about hearing from
the lawyers as she'd come into a lot of
money. But it was different when the
police came round asking questions, and
she went off very sudden, she did. Nobody
asked me anything, they didn't. But now
283
I can't help wondering if I ought to have
said something at the time."
"I think," said Mrs. Oliver, "that you
will probably have to tell this story of
yours to whoever represented Mrs.
Llewellyn-Smythe as a lawyer. I'm sure a
good lawyer will quite understand your
feelings and you
r motive."
"Well, I'm sure if you'd say a word for
me and tell them, being a lady as knows
what's what, how it came about, and how
I never meant to—well, not to do anything
dishonest in any way. I mean, all I did—"
"All you did was to say nothing," said
Mrs. Oliver. "It seems quite a reasonable
explanation."
"And if it could come from you—saying
a word for me first, you know, to explain,
I'd be ever so grateful."
"I'll do what I can," said Mrs. Oliver.
Her eyes strayed to the garden path
where she saw a neat figure approaching.
"Well, thanks ever so much. They said
as you were a very nice lady, and I'm sure
I'm much obliged to you."
She rose to her feet, replaced the cotton
gloves which she had twisted entirely off
in her anguish, made a kind of half nod or
284
bob, and trotted off. Mrs. Oliver waited
until Poirot approached.
"Come here," she said, "and sit down.
What's the matter with you? You look
upset."
"My feet are extremely painful," said
Hercule Poirot.
"It's those awful tight patent leather
shoes of yours," said Mrs. Oliver. "Sit
down. Tell me what you came to tell me,
and then Pll tell you something that you
may be surprised to hear!"
285
18
POIROT sat down, stretched out his
legs and said: "Ah! that is better."
"Take your shoes off," said Mrs.
Oliver, "and rest your feet."
"No, no. I could not do that." Poirot
sounded shocked at the possibility.
"Well, we're old friends together," said
Mrs. Oliver, "and Judith wouldn't mind if
she came out of the house. You know, if
you'll excuse me saying so, you oughtn't
to wear patent leather shoes in the
country. Why don't you get yourself a nice
pair of suede shoes? Or the things all the
hippy-looking boys wear nowadays? You
know, the sort of shoes that slip on, and
you never have to clean them--apparently
they clean themselves by some extraordinary
process or other. One of these
labour-saving gimmicks."
"I would not care for that at all," said
Poirot severely. "No, indeed!"
"The trouble with you is," said Mrs.
Oliver, beginning to unwrap a package on
286
the table which she had obviously recently