Crooked House by Agatha Christie Page B

bare necessities of life - hard on Clemency, but she swore she didn't mind. She's wonderful - absolutely wonderful.”
    “I see.” My father's voice was dry. “And what made you change your mind?”
    “Change my mind?”'
    “Yes. What made you decide to go to your father and ask for financial help after all?”
    Roger stared at him.
    “But I didn't!”
    “Come now, Mr Leonides.”
    “You've got it all wrong. I didn't go to him. He sent for me. He'd heard, somehow, in the City. A rumour? I suppose. But he always knew things. Someone had told him. He tackled me with it. Then, of course, I broke down... I told him everything. I said it wasn't so much the money - it was the feeling I'd let him down after he'd trusted me.”
    Roger swallowed convulsively. “The dear man,” he said. “You can't imagine how he was to me. No reproaches. Just kindness. I told him I didn't want help, that I preferred not to have it - that I'd rather go away as I had planned to do. But he wouldn't listen. He insisted on coming to the rescue - on putting Associated Catering on its legs again.”
    Taverner said sharply:
    “You are expecting us to believe that your father intended to come to your assistance financially?”
    “Certainly he did. He wrote to his brokers then and there, giving them instructions.”
    I suppose he saw the incredulity on the two men's faces and flushed.
    “Look here,” he said, “I've still got the letter. I was to post it. But of course later - with - with the shock and confusion, I forgot. I've probably got it in my pocket now.”
    He drew out his wallet and started hunting through it. Finally he found what he wanted. It was a creased envelope with a stamp on it. It was adressed, as I saw by leaning forward, to Messrs. Greatorex and Hanbury.
    “Read it for yourselves,” he said. “If you don't believe me.”
    My father tore open the letter. Taverner went round behind him. I did not see the letter then, but I saw it later. It instructed Messrs. Greatorex and Hanbury to realise certain investments and asked for a member of the firm to be sent down on the following day to take certain instructions re the affairs of Associated Catering. Some of it was unintelligible to me but its purport was clear enough. Aristide Leonides was preparing to put Associated Catering on its feet again.
    Taverner said:
    “We will give you a receipt for this, Mr Leonides.”
    Roger took the receipt. He got up and said:
    “Is that all? You do see how it all was, don't you?”
    Taverner said:
    “Mr Leonides gave you this letter and you then left him? What did you do next?”
    “I rushed back to my own part of the house. My wife had just come in. I told her what my father proposed to do. How wonderful he had been! I - really, I hardly knew what I was doing.”
    “And your father was taken ill - how long after that?”
    “Let me see - half an hour, perhaps, or an hour. Brenda came rushing in. She was frightened. She said he looked queer. I - I rushed over with her. But I've told you this before.”
    “During your former visit, did you go into the bathroom adjoining your father's room at all?”
    “I don't think so. No - no, I am sure I didn't. Why, you can't possibly think that I -”
    My father quelled the sudden indignation. He got up and shook hands.
    “Thank you, Mr Leonides,” he said. “You have been very helpful. But you should have told us all this before.”
    The door closed behind Roger. I got up and came to look at the letter lying on my father's table.
    “It could be forgery,” said Taverner hopefully.
    “It could be,” said my father, “but I don't think it is. I think we'll have to accept it as it stands. Old Leonides was prepared to get his son out of this mess. It could have been done more efficiently by him alive than it could by Roger after his death... especially as it now transpires that no will is to be found and that in consequence Roger's actual amount of inheritance is open to question. That means