"The late Mrs. Lee was somewhat of an invalid, was she not?"

"Yes, sir, very poorly she was."

"Were her children fond of her?"

"Mr. David, he was devoted to her. More like a daughter than a son. And after she died he broke away, couldn't face living here any longer."

Poirot said: "And Mr. Harry? What was he like?"

"Always rather a wild young gentleman, sir, but good-hearted. Oh, dear, gave me quite a turn, it did, when the bell rang-and then again, so impatient like, and I opened the door and there was a strange man, and then Mr. Harry's voice said, 'Hallo, Tressilian. Still here, eh?' Just the same as ever."

Poirot said sympathetically: "It must have been the strange feeling, yes, indeed."

Tressilian said, a little pink flush showing in his cheek: "It seems sometimes, sir, as though the past isn't the past! I believe there's been a play on in London about something like that. There's something in it, sir-there really is. There's a feeling comes over you-as though you'd done everything before. It just seems to me as though the bell rings and I go to answer it and there's Mr. Harry-even if it should be Mr. Farr or some other person-I'm just saying to myself-but I've done this before. . . ."

Poirot said: "That is very interesting-very interesting."

Tressilian looked at him gratefully.

Johnson, somewhat impatient, cleared his throat and took charge of the conversation.

"Just want to get various times checked correctly," he said. "Now, when the noise upstairs started, I understand that only Mr. Alfred Lee and Mr. Harry Lee were in the dining room. Is that so?"

"I really couldn't tell you, sir. All the gentlemen were there when I served coffee to them-but that would be about a quarter of an hour earlier."

"Mr. George Lee was telephoning. Can you confirm that?"

"I think somebody did telephone, sir. The bell rings in my pantry, and when anybody takes off the receiver to call a number, there's just a faint noise on the bell. I do remember hearing that, but I didn't pay attention to it."

"You don't know exactly when it was?"

"I couldn't say, sir. It was after I had taken coffee to the gentlemen, that is all I can say."

"Do you know where any of the ladies were at the time I mentioned?"

"Mrs. Alfred was in the drawing room, sir, when I went for the coffee tray. That was just a minute or two before I heard the cry upstairs."

Poirot asked: "What was she doing?"

"She was standing by the far window, sir. She was holding the curtain a little back and looking out."

"And none of the other ladies were in the room?"

"No, sir."

"Do you know where they were?"

"I couldn't say at all, sir."

"You don't know where anyone else was?"

"Mr. David, I think, was playing in the music room next door to the drawing room."

"You heard him playing?"

"Yes, sir." Again the old man shivered. "It was like a sign, sir, so I felt afterwards. It was the 'Dead March' he was playing. Even at the time, I remember, it gave me the creeps."

"It is curious, yes," said Poirot.

"Now, about this fellow, Horbury, the valet," said the chief constable. "Are you definitely prepared to swear that he was out of the house by eight o'clock?"

"Oh yes, sir. It was just after Mr. Sugden here arrived. I remember particular because he broke a coffee cup."

Poirot said: "Horbury broke a coffee cup?"

"Yes, sir-one of the old Worcester ones. Eleven years I've washed them up and never one broken till this evening."

Poirot said: "What was Horbury doing with the coffee cups?"

"Well, of course, sir, he'd no business to have been handling them at all. He was just holding one up, admiring it like, and I happened to mention that Mr. Sugden had called, and he dropped it."

Poirot said: "Did you say 'Mr. Sugden' or did you mention the word police?"

Tressilian looked a little startled.

"Now I come to think of it, sir, I mentioned that the police superintendent had called."

"And Horbury dropped the coffee cup," said Poirot.

"Seems suggestive, that," said the chief constable. "Did Horbury ask any questions about the superintendent's visit?"

"Yes, sir, asked what he wanted here. I said he'd come collecting for the Police Orphanage and had gone up to Mr. Lee."

"Did Horbury seemed relieved when you said that?"

"Do you know, sir, now you mention it, he certainly did. His manner changed at once. Said Mr. Lee was a good old chap and free with his money-rather disrepectfully he spoke-and then he went off."

"Which way?"

"Out through the door to the servants' hall."

Sugden interposed: "All that's O.K., sir. He passed through the kitchen, where the cook and the kitchenmaid saw him, and out through the back door."

"Now listen, Tressilian, and think carefully. Is there any means by which Horbury could return to the house without anyone seeing him?"

The old man shook his head.

"I don't see how he could have done so, sir. All the doors are locked on the inside."

"Supposing he had had a key?"

"The doors are bolted as well."

"How does he get in when he comes?"

"He has a key of the back door, sir. All the servants come in that way."

"He could have returned that way, then?"

"Not without passing through the kitchen, sir. And the kitchen would be occupied till well after half past nine or a quarter to ten."

Colonel Johnson said: "That seems conclusive. Thank you, Tressilian."

The old man got up and with a bow left the room. He returned, however, a minute or two later.

"Horbury has just returned, sir. Would you like to see him now?"

"Yes, please, send him in at once."

XVII.

Sydney Horbury did not present a very prepossessing appearance. He came into the room and stood rubbing his hands together and darting quick looks from one person to another. His manner was unctuous.

Johnson said: "You're Sydney Horbury?"

"Yes, sir."

"Valet attendant to the late Mr. Lee?"

"Yes, sir. It's terrible, isn't it? You could have knocked me down with a feather when I heard from Gladys. Poor old gentleman-"

Johnson cut him short.

"Just answer my questions, please."

"Yes, sir, certainly, sir."

"What time did you go out tonight, and where have you been?"

"I left the house just before eight, sir. I went to the Superb, sir, just five minutes' walk away. Love in Old Seville was the picture, sir."

"Anyone who saw you there?"

"The young lady in the box office, sir, she knows me. And the commissionaire at the door, he knows me too. And-er-as a matter of fact, I was with a young lady, sir. I met her there by appointment."

"Oh, you did, did you? What's her name?"

"Doris Buckle, sir. She works in the Combined Dairies, sir, 23, Markham Road."

"Good. We'll look into that. Did you come straight home?"

"I saw my young lady home first, sir. Then I came straight back. You'll find it's quite all right, sir. I didn't have anything to do with this. I was-"

Colonel Johnson said curtly: "Nobody's accusing you of having anything to do with it."

"No, sir, of course not, sir. But it's not very pleasant when a murder happens in a house."

"Nobody said it was. Now, then, how long had you been in Mr. Lee's service?"

"Just over a year, sir."

"Did you like your place here?"

"Yes, sir. I was quite satisfied. The pay was good. Mr. Lee was rather difficult sometimes, but of course I'm used to attending on invalids."

"You've had previous experience?"

"Oh, yes, sir. I was with Major West and with the Honourable Jasper Finch-"

"You can give all those particulars to Sugden later. What I want to know is this: At what time did you last see Mr. Lee this evening?"

"It was about half past seven, sir. Mr. Lee had a light supper brought to him every evening at seven o'clock. I then prepared him for bed. After that he would sit in front of the fire in his dressing gown till he felt like going to bed."

"What time was that usually?"

"It varied, sir. Sometimes he would go to bed as early as eight o'clock-that's if he felt tired. Sometimes he would sit up till eleven or after."

"What did he do when he did want to go to bed?"

"Usually he rang for me, sir."

"And you assisted him to bed?"

"Yes, sir."

"But this was your evening out. Did you always have Fridays?"

"Yes, sir. Friday was my regular day."

"What happened then when Mr. Lee wanted to go to bed?"

"He would ring his bell and either Tressilian or Walter would see to him."

"He was not helpless? He could move about?"

"Yes, sir, but not very easily. Rheumatoid arthritis was what he suffered from, sir. He was worse some days than others."

"Did he never go into another room in the daytime?"