Cards on the Table by Agatha Christie Page B

Despard and Miss Meredith made a one heart bid. Then we went down a couple of fifties trying for four hearts and four spades. Then the others made game in spades - no use trying to stop them. We went down three hands running after that but undoubled. Then we won the second game in no trumps. Then a battle royal started. Each side went down in turn. Doctor Roberts overbid but, though he got badly down once or twice, his calling paid, for more than once he frightened Miss Meredith out of bidding her hand. Then he bid an original two spades, I gave him three diamonds, he bid four no trumps, I bid five spades and he suddenly jumped to seven diamonds. We were doubled, of course. He had no business to make such a bid. By a kind of miracle we got it. I never thought we should when I saw his hand go down. If the others had led a heart we would have been three tricks down. As it was they led the king of clubs and we got it. It was really very exciting.”
    “Je crois bien - a grand slam vulnerable doubled. It causes the emotions, that! Me, I admit it, I have not the nerve to go for the slams. I content myself with the game.”
    “Oh, but you shouldn't,” said Mrs. Lorrimer with energy. “You must play the game properly.”
    “Take risks, you mean?”
    “There is no risk if the bidding is correct. It should be a mathematical certainty. Unfortunately few people really bid well. They know the opening bids but later they lose their heads. They cannot distinguish between a hand with winning cards in it and a hand without losing cards - but I mustn't give you a lecture on bridge, Monsieur Poirot.”
    “It would improve my play, I am sure, madame.”
    Mrs. Lorrimer resumed her study of the score.
    “After that excitement the next hands were rather tame. Have you the fourth score there? Ah, yes. A dingdong battle - neither side able to score below.”
    “It is often like that as the evening wears on.”
    “Yes, one starts tamely and then the cards get worked up.”
    Poirot collected the scores and made a little bow “Madame, I congratulate you. Your card memory is magnificent - but magnificent! You remember, one might say, every card that was played!”
    “I believe I do.”
    “Memory is a wonderful gift. With it the past is never the past. I should imagine, madame, that to you the past unrolls itself, every incident clear as yesterday. Is that so?”
    She looked at him quickly. Her eyes were wide and dark. It was only for a moment, then she had resumed her woman-of-the-world manner, but Hercule Poirot did not doubt. That shot had gone home.
    Mrs. Lorrimer rose. “I'm afraid I shall have to leave now, I am so sorry, but I really mustn't be late.”
    “Of course not - of course not. I apologize for trespassing on your time.”
    “I'm sorry I haven't been able to help you more.”
    “But you have helped me,” said Hercule Poirot.
    “I hardly think so.” She spoke with decision.
    “But yes. You have told me something I wanted to know.”
    She asked no question as to what that something was.
    He held out his hand.
    “Thank you, madame, for your forbearance.”
    As she shook hands with him she said, “You are an extraordinary man, Monsieur Poirot.”
    “I am as the good God made me, madame.”
    “We are all that, I suppose.”
    “Not all, madame. Some of us have tried to improve on his pattern. Mr. Shaitana, for instance.”
    “In what way do you mean?”
    “He had a very pretty taste in objets de vertus and bric-a-brac; he should have been content with that. Instead, he collected other things.”
    “What sort of things?”
    “Well - shall we say - sensations?”
    “And don't you think that was dans son caractère?”
    Poirot shook his head gravely. “He played the part of the devil too successfully. But he was not the devil. Au fond, he was a stupid man. And so - he died.”
    “Because he was stupid?”
    “It is the sin that is never forgiven and always punished, madame.”
    There was a silence. Then Poirot said,