Cards on the Table

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Authors: Agatha Christie
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Roberts. Birth, marriage, and so on.”
    “It will get me into practice for Who's Who,” said the doctor dryly. “My career's a perfectly straightforward one. I'm a Shropshire man, born at Ludlow. My father was in practice there. He died when I was fifteen. I was educated at Shrewsbury and went in for medicine like my father before me. I'm a Saint Christopher's man - but you'll have all the medical details already, I expect.”
    “I looked you up, yes, sir. You an only child or have you any brothers or sisters?”
    “I'm an only child. Both my parents are dead and I'm unmarried. Will that do to get on with? I came into partnership here with Doctor Emery. He retired about fifteen years ago. Lives in Ireland. I'll give you his address if you like. I live here with a cook, a parlormaid, and a housemaid. My secretary comes in daily. I make a good income and I only kill a reasonable number of my patients. How's that?”
    Superintendent Battle grinned. “That's fairly comprehensive, Doctor Roberts. I'm glad you've got a sense of humor. Now I'm going to ask you one more thing.”
    “I'm a strictly moral man, Superintendent.”
    “Oh, that wasn't my meaning. No, I was just going to ask you if you'd give me the names of four friends - people who've known you intimately for a number of years. Kind of references, if you know what I mean.”
    “Yes, I think so. Let me see now. You'd prefer people who are actually in London now?”
    “It would make it a bit easier, but it doesn't really matter.”
    The doctor thought for a minute or two, then with his fountain pen he scribbled four names and addresses on a paper and pushed it across the desk to Battle.
    “Will those do? They're the best I can think of on the spur of the moment.”
    Battle read carefully, nodded his head in satisfaction, and put the sheet of paper away in an inner pocket.
    “It's just a question of elimination,” he said. “The sooner I can get one person eliminated and go on to the next, the better it is for everyone concerned. I've got to make perfectly certain that you weren't on bad terms with the late Mr. Shaitana, that you had no private connections or business dealings with him, that there was no question of his having injured you at any time and your bearing resentment. I may believe you when you say you only know him slightly, but it isn't a question of my belief. I've got to say I've made sure.”
    “Oh, I understand perfectly. You've got to think everybody's a liar till he's proved he's speaking the truth. Here are my keys, Superintendent. That's the drawers of the desk - that's the bureau - that little one's the key of the poison cupboard. Be sure you lock it up again. Perhaps I'd better just have a word with my secretary.” He pressed a button on his desk.
    Almost immediately the door opened and a competent-looking young woman appeared. “You rang, Doctor?”
    “This is Miss Burgess, Superintendent Battle from Scotland Yard.”
    Miss Burgess turned a cool gaze on Battle. It seemed to say, “Dear me, what sort of an animal is this?”
    “I should be glad, Miss Burgess, if you will answer any questions Superintendent Battle may put to you, and give him any help he may need.”
    “Certainly if you say so, Doctor.”
    “Well,” said Roberts, rising. “I'll be off. Did you put the morphia in my case? I shall need it for the Lockhaert case -”
    He bustled out still talking and Miss Burgess followed him. She returned a minute or two later to say, “Will you press that button when you want me, Superintendent Battle?”
    Superintendent Battle thanked her and said he would do so. Then he set to work.
    His search was careful and methodical, though he had no great hopes of finding anything of importance. Roberts's ready acquiescence dispelled the chance of that. Roberts was no fool. He would realize that a search would be bound to come and he would make provisions accordingly. There was, however, a faint chance that Battle might come across a hint

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