Free The A B C Murders by Agatha Christie Page A

consider your sister was behaving foolishly? Do you mean
     perhaps, in relation to Mr. Donald Fraser?”
    “That's it, exactly. Don's a very quiet sort of person - but he - well, naturally he'd
     resent certain things - and then -”
    “And then what, mademoiselle?”
    His eyes were on her very steadily.
    It may have been my fancy but it seemed to me that she hesitated a second before answering.
    “I afraid that he might - chuck her altogether. And that would have been a pity. He's a
     very steady and hard-working man and would have made her a good husband.”
    Poirot continued to gaze at her. She did not flush under his glance but returned it with
     one of her own equally steady and with something else in it - something that reminded me
     of her first defiant, disdainful manner.
    “So it is like that,” he said at last. “We do not speak the truth any longer.”
    She shrugged her shoulders and turned towards the door.
    “Well,” she said, “I've done what I could to help you.”
    Poirot's voice arrested her.
    “Wait, mademoiselle. I have something to tell you. Come back.”
    Rather unwillingly, I thought, she obeyed.
    Somewhat to my surprise Poirot plunged into the whole story of the letters, the murder at
     Andover, and the railway guide found by the victims.
    He had no reason to complain of any lack of interest on her part. Her lips parted, her
     eyes gleaming, she hung on his words.
    “Is this all true, M. Poirot?”
    “Yes, it is true.”
    “You really mean my sister was killed by some horrible homicidal maniac?”
    “Precisely.”
    She drew a deep breath.
    “Oh! Betty - Betty - How - how ghastly!”
    “You see, mademoiselle, that the information for which I ask you can give freely without
     wondering whether or not it will hurt any one.”
    “Yes, I see that now.”
    “Then let us continue our conversation. I have formed the idea that this Donald Fraser
     has, perhaps, a violent and jealous temper, is that right?”
    Megan Barnard said quietly:
    “I'm trusting you now, M. Poirot. I'm going to give you the absolute truth. Don is, as I
     say, a very quiet person - a bottled-up person if you know what I mean. He can't always
     express what he feels in words. But underneath it all he minds things terribly. And he's
     got a jealous nature. He was always jealous of Betty. He was devoted to her - and of
     course she was very fond of him, but it wasn't in Betty to be fond of one person and not
     notice anybody else. She wasn't made that way. She'd got a - well, an eye for any
     nice-looking man who'd pass the time of day with her. And of course, working in the Ginger
     Cat, she was always running up against men - especially in the summer holidays. She was
     always very pat with her tongue and if they chaffed her she'd chaff back again. And then
     perhaps she'd meet them and go to the pictures or something like that. Nothing serious -
     never anything of that kind - but she just liked her fun. She used to say that as she'd
     got to settle down with Don one day she might as well have her fun now while she could.”
    Megan paused and Poirot said:
    “I understand. Continue.”
    “It was just that attitude of mind of hers that Don couldn't understand. If she was really
     keen on him he couldn't see why she wanted to go out with other people. And once or twice
     they had flaming big rows about it.”
    “M. Don, he was no longer quiet?”
    “It's like all those quiet people, when they do lose their tempers they lose them with a
     vengeance. Don was so violent that Betty was frightened.”
    "When was this?
    “There was one row nearly a year ago and another - a worse one - just over a month ago. I
     was home for the weekend - and I got them to patch it up again, and it was then that I
     tried to knock a little sense into Betty - told her she was a little fool. All she would
     say was that there hadn't been any harm in it. Well, that was true enough, but all the
     same she was riding for