‘Instead nothing is heard of him until nearly two years later when the letters are resumed.
‘Why were the letters resumed?
‘A very difficult question – most easily answered by saying that Mrs Leidner was bored and wanted more drama. But I was not quite satisfied with that. This particular form of drama seemed to me a shade too vulgar and too crude to accord well with her fastidious personality.
‘The only thing to do was to keep an open mind on the question.
‘There were three definite possibilities: (1) the letters were written by Mrs Leidner herself; (2) they were written by Frederick Bosner (or young William Bosner); (3) they might have been written originally by either Mrs Leidner or her first husband, but they were now forgeries – that is, they were being written by a third person who was aware of the earlier letters.
‘I now come to direct consideration of Mrs Leidner’s entourage.
‘I examined first the actual opportunities that each member of the staff had had for committing the murder.
‘Roughly, on the face of it, anyone might have committed it (as far as opportunity went), with the exception of three persons.
‘Dr Leidner, by overwhelming testimony, had never left the roof. Mr Carey was on duty at the mound. Mr Coleman was in Hassanieh.
‘But those alibis, my friends, were not quite as good as they looked. I except Dr Leidner’s. There is absolutely no doubt that he was on the roof all the time and did not come down until quite an hour and a quarter after the murder had happened.
‘But was it quite certain that Mr Carey was on the mound all the time?
‘And had Mr Coleman actually been in Hassanieh at the time the murder took place?’
Bill Coleman reddened, opened his mouth, shut it and looked round uneasily.
Mr Carey’s expression did not change.
Poirot went on smoothly.
‘I also considered one other person who, I satisfied myself, would be perfectly capable of committing murder if she felt strongly enough. Miss Reilly has courage and brains and a certain quality of ruthlessness. When Miss Reilly was speaking to me on the subject of the dead woman, I said to her, jokingly, that I hoped she had an alibi. I think Miss Reilly was conscious then that she had had in her heart the desire, at least, to kill. At any rate she immediately uttered a very silly and purposeless lie. She said she had been playing tennis on that afternoon. The next day I learned from a casual conversation with Miss Johnson that far from playing tennis, Miss Reilly had actually been near this house at the time of the murder. It occurred to me that Miss Reilly, if not guilty of the crime, might be able to tell me something useful.’
He stopped and then said quietly: ‘Will you tell us, Miss Reilly, what you did see that afternoon?’
The girl did not answer at once. She still looked out of the window without turning her head, and when she spoke it was in a detached and measured voice.
‘I rode out to the dig after lunch. It must have been about a quarter to two when I got there.’
‘Did you find any of your friends on the dig?’
‘No, there seemed to be no one there but the Arab foreman.’
‘You did not see Mr Carey?’
‘No.’
‘Curious,’ said Poirot. ‘No more did M. Verrier when he went there that same afternoon.’
He looked invitingly at Carey, but the latter neither moved nor spoke.
‘Have you any explanation, Mr Carey?’
‘I went for a walk. There was nothing of interest turning up.’
‘In which direction did you go for a walk?’
‘Down by the river.’
‘Not back towards the house?’
‘No.’
‘I suppose,’ said Miss Reilly, ‘that you were waiting for someone who didn’t come.’
He looked at her but didn’t answer.
Poirot did not press the point. He spoke once more to the girl.
‘Did you see anything else, mademoiselle?’
‘Yes. I was not far from the expedition house when I noticed the expedition lorry drawn up in a wadi. I thought it was rather queer. Then I saw Mr Coleman. He was walking along with his head down as though he were searching for something.’
‘Look here,’ burst out Mr Coleman, ‘I–’
Poirot stopped him with an authoritative gesture.
‘Wait. Did you speak to him, Miss Reilly?’
‘No. I didn’t.’
‘Why?’
The girl said slowly: ‘Because, from time to time, he started and looked round with an extraordinary furtive look. It – gave me an unpleasant feeling. I turned my horse’s head and rode away. I don’t think he saw me. I was not very near and he was absorbed in what he was doing.’
‘Look here,’ Mr Coleman was not to be hushed any longer. ‘I’ve got a perfectly good explanation for what – I admit – looks a bit fishy. As a matter of fact, the day before I had slipped a jolly fine cylinder seal into my coat pocket instead of putting it in the antika-room – forgot all about it. And then I discovered I’d been and lost it out of my pocket – dropped it somewhere. I didn’t want to get into a row about it so I decided I’d have a jolly good search on the quiet. I was pretty sure I’d dropped it on the way to or from the dig. I rushed over my business in Hassanieh. Sent a walad to do some of the shopping and got back early. I stuck the bus where it wouldn’t show and had a jolly good hunt for over an hour. And didn’t find the damned thing at that! Then I got into the bus and drove on to the house. Naturally, everyone thought I’d just got back.’
‘And you did not undeceive them?’ asked Poirot sweetly.
‘Well, that was pretty natural under the circumstances, don’t you think?’
‘I hardly agree,’ said Poirot.
‘Oh, come now – don’t go looking for trouble – that’s my motto! But you can’t fasten anything on me. I never went into the courtyard, and you can’t find anyone who’ll say I did.’
‘That, of course, has been the difficulty,’ said Poirot. ‘The evidence of the servants that no one entered the courtyard from outside. But it occurred to me, upon reflection, that that was really not what they had said. They had sworn that no stranger had entered the premises. They had not been asked if a member of the expedition had done so.’
‘Well, you ask them,’ said Coleman. ‘I’ll eat my hat if they saw me or Carey either.’
‘Ah! but that raises rather an interesting question. They would notice a stranger undoubtedly – but would they have even noticed a member of the expedition? The members of the staff are passing in and out all day. The servants would hardly notice their going and coming. It is possible, I think, that either Mr Carey or Mr Coleman might have entered and the servants’ minds would have no remembrance of such an event.’
‘Bunkum!’ said Mr Coleman.
Poirot went on calmly: ‘Of the two, I think Mr Carey was the least likely to be noticed going or coming. Mr Coleman had started to Hassanieh in the car that morning and he would be expected to return in it. His arrival on foot would therefore be noticeable.’
‘Of course it would!’ said Coleman.
Richard Carey raised his head. His deep-blue eyes looked straight at Poirot.
‘Are you accusing me of murder, M. Poirot?’ he asked.
His manner was quite quiet but his voice had a dangerous undertone.
Poirot bowed to him.
‘As yet I am only taking you all on a journey – my journey towards the truth. I had now established one fact – that all the members of the expedition staff, and also Nurse Leatheran, could in actual fact have committed the murder. That there was very little likelihood of some of them having committed it was a secondary matter.
‘I had examined means and opportunity. I next passed to motive. I discovered that one and all of you could be credited with a motive!’
‘Oh! M. Poirot,’ I cried. ‘Not me! Why, I was a stranger. I’d only just come.’