The Monogram Murders(84)

“Then what became of the food?” I asked. “Where did it disappear to?”

“The conspirators removed it from the scene. Oh, yes, ladies and gentlemen, there was most assuredly a conspiracy to commit these three murders! In case I have not yet made it clear: Harriet Sippel, Ida Gransbury and Richard Negus were all dead long before a quarter past seven o’clock on the Thursday in question.”

Luca Lazzari stepped forward. “Monsieur Poirot, please forgive my intrusion, but I must tell you that Rafal Bobak, my most loyal of waiters, would not lie. He saw the three murder victims alive and well when he delivered the food at a quarter past seven. Alive and well! You must be mistaken in what you are saying.”

“I am not mistaken. Though in one respect you are correct: your waiter Rafal Bobak is indeed an exemplary witness. He certainly saw three people in Room 317 when he delivered the afternoon tea—but those people were not Harriet Sippel, Ida Gransbury and Richard Negus.”

All over the room there were gasps of shock. I gave one myself, wracking my brains to think who else the three might have been. Not Jennie Hobbs, for she would have been on her way to Pleasant’s Coffee House at that time. Who, then?

“Poirot,” I said nervously. “Is it your contention that three people impersonated the murder victims in order to make it look as if they were still alive when the food was delivered?”

“Not precisely, no. In fact, two people impersonated two of the murder victims. The third person, Ida Gransbury . . . she was not an impersonation, I am sorry to say. No, she was unfortunately the real Ida Gransbury. Mr. Bobak, do you remember what you told me about what you overheard and what you witnessed when you took the afternoon tea to Room 317? I recall every word, since you have given me your account twice. Would you mind if I repeat it now for the benefit of us all?”

“No, sir, I would not.”

“Merci. You arrived to find the three murder victims apparently alive and talking about people they knew. You heard Harriet Sippel, or the woman later referred to as ‘Harriet’ by the man in the room, say, ‘She had no choice, did she? She’s no longer the one he confides in. He’d hardly be interested in her now—she’s let herself go, and she’s old enough to be his mother. No, if she wanted to find out what was going on in his mind, she had no choice but to receive the woman he does confide in, and talk to her.’ This was when the man in the room broke off from attending to you and to the food, and said, ‘Oh, Harriet, that’s hardly fair. Ida’s easily shocked. Go easy on her.’ Have I been accurate so far, Mr. Bobak?”

“You have, sir.”

“You then told me that either Ida or Harriet said something else that you could not remember, and then the man you assumed was Richard Negus said, ‘His mind? I’d argue he has no mind. And I dispute the old-enough-to-be-his-mother claim. I dispute it utterly.’ At which point the woman going by the name of Harriet laughed and said, ‘Well, neither of us can prove we’re right, so let’s agree to disagree!’ Correct?”

Rafal Bobak confirmed that, once again, Poirot had got it right.

“Bon. May I suggest to you, Mr. Bobak, that the remark made by either Ida or Harriet that you do not remember was in fact made by Harriet? I am convinced—absolutely convinced!—that you did not hear Ida Gransbury speak one single word while you were in that room, and that you did not see her face because she was sitting with her back facing the door.”

Bobak frowned, concentrating. Eventually he said, “I think you are right, Mr. Poirot. No, I did not see the face of Miss Ida Gransbury. And . . . I don’t think I heard her speak at all, now that you bring it up.”

“You did not hear her speak, monsieur—for the simple reason that Ida Gransbury, propped up in a chair with her back facing the door, was already murdered by a quarter past seven. The third person in Room 317 when you took up the afternoon tea was a dead woman!”





The Blue Jug and Bowl

A FEW PEOPLE CRIED out in alarm. There is a strong chance that I was one of them. It is strange: I have seen many dead bodies, thanks to my work for Scotland Yard, and have on occasion found the sight of them disturbing—yet no regular corpse could be as horrifying a prospect as a dead woman propped up as if alive and partaking of a jolly afternoon tea with friends.

Poor Rafal Bobak looked rather shivery and wobbly lipped, no doubt reflecting that he had been closer to the monstrosity than any sane person would wish to be.

“This is why the food had to be delivered to Ida Gransbury’s room,” Poirot went on. “Richard Negus’s room, 238, would have been the most convenient meeting point for the three victims, as it was on the second floor between the other two rooms. The afternoon tea would then have been added to Mr. Negus’s bill without his having to make a point of requesting this. But of course Room 238 could not be the room in which our three murder victims were seen alive by Rafal Bobak at a quarter past seven! That would have involved carrying Ida Gransbury’s dead body from her room, 317, in which she had been killed some hours earlier, through the corridors of the hotel to Richard Negus’s room. It would have been too great a risk. Someone would almost certainly have seen.”

The shocked faces of the bewildered crowd were something to behold. I wondered if Luca Lazzari would soon be seeking new staff. I definitely had no intention of returning to the Bloxham once this unpleasant business was concluded, and I imagined that many in the room felt the same way.