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“And you arrived—when?”
“Three weeks ago almost to a day. That is, on the 27th of February.”
“Coming from?”
“The Order of the Pères Blancs at Carthage.”
“Thank you, mon père. Were you at any time acquainted with Mrs. Leidner before coming here?”
“No, I had never seen the lady until I met her here.”
“Will you tell me what you were doing at the time of the tragedy?”
“I was working on some cuneiform tablets in my own room.”
I noticed that Poirot had at his elbow a rough plan of the building.
“That is the room at the southwest corner corresponding to that of Mrs. Leidner on the opposite side?”
“Yes.”
“At what time did you go to your room?”
“Immediately after lunch. I should say at about twenty minutes to one.”
“And you remained there until—when?”
“Just before three o’clock. I had heard the station wagon come back—and then I heard it drive off again. I wondered why, and came out to see.”
“During the time that you were there did you leave the room at all?”
“No, not once.”
“And you heard or saw nothing that might have any bearing on the tragedy?”
“No.”
“You have no window giving on the courtyard in your room?”
“No, both the windows give on the countryside.”
“Could you hear at all what was happening in the courtyard?”
“Not very much. I heard Mr. Emmott passing my room and going up to the roof. He did so once or twice.”
“Can you remember at what time?”
“No, I’m afraid I can’t. I was engrossed in my work, you see.”
There was a pause and then Poirot said:
“Can you say or suggest anything at all that might throw light on this business? Did you, for instance, notice anything in the days preceding the murder?”
Father Lavigny looked slightly uncomfortable.
He shot a half-questioning look at Dr. Leidner.
