I don't really know anything about Finns and I'm always getting letters from Finland pointing out something impossible that he's said or done.
They seem to read detective stories a good deal in Finland.
I suppose it's the long winters with no daylight.
In Bulgaria and Rumania they don't seem to read at all.
I'd have done better to have made him a Bulgarian," She broke off. "I'm so sorry.
I'm talking shop. And this is a real murder." Her face lighted up. "What a good idea it would be if none of them had murdered him.
If he'd asked them all, and then quietly committed suicide just for the fun of making a schemozzle."
Poirot nodded approvingly. "An admirable solution. So neat. So ironic. But alas, Mr. Shaitana was not that sort of man.
He was very fond of life."
"I don't think he was really a nice man," said Mrs. Oliver slowly.
"He was not nice, no," said Poirot. "But he was alive - and now he is dead and, as I told him once, I have a bourgeois attitude to murder. I disapprove of it." He added softly, "And so - I am prepared to go inside the tiger's cage."
Chapter 9 DOCTOR ROBERTS
"Good morning, Superintendent Battle." Doctor Roberts rose from his chair and offered a large pink hand smelling of soap and carbolic. "How are things going?" he went on.
Superintendent Battle glanced round the comfortable consulting room before answering.
"Well, Doctor Roberts, strictly speaking, they're not going.
They're standing still."
"There's been nothing much in the papers, I've been glad to see."
"Sudden death of the well-known Mr. Shaitana at an evening party in his own house.
It's left at that for the moment.
We've had the autopsy - I brought a report of the findings along - thought it might interest you -"
"That's very kind of you; it would.
H'm - cervical third rib, et cetera. Yes, very interesting." He handed it back.
"And we've interviewed Mr. Shaitana's solicitor.
We know the terms of his will.
Nothing of interest there.
He has relatives in Syria it seems.
And then, of course, we've been through all his private papers."
Was it fancy or did that broad, clean - shaven countenance look a little strained - a little wooden?
"And?" asked Doctor Roberts.
"Nothing," said Superintendent Battle, watching him.
There wasn't a sigh of relief.
Nothing so blatant as that.
But the doctor's figure seemed to relax just a shade more comfortably in his chair.
"And so you've come to me?"
"And so, as you say, I've come to you."
The doctor's eyebrows rose a little and his shrewd eyes looked into Battle's.
"Want to go through my private papers - eh?"
"That was my idea."
"Got a search warrant?"
"No."
"Well, you could get one easily enough, I suppose.
I'm not going to make difficulties.
It's not very pleasant being suspected of murder, but I suppose I can't blame you for what's obviously your duty."
"Thank you, sir," said Superintendent Battle with real gratitude. "I appreciate your attitude, if I may say so, very much.
I hope all the others will be as reasonable, I'm sure."
"What can't be cured must be endured," said the doctor good-humoredly. He went on. "I've finished seeing my patients here. I'm just off on my rounds.
I'll leave you my keys and just say a word to my secretary and you can rootle to your heart's content."
"That's all very nice and pleasant, I'm sure," said Battle. "I'd like to ask you a few more questions before you go."
"About the other night?
Really, I told you all I know,"