Finally, he poured a few drops of the cocoa into a test tube, sealing it up carefully. His next proceeding was to take out a little notebook.
We have found in this room, he said, writing busily, six points of interest. Shall I enumerate them, or will you?
Oh, you, I replied hastily.
Very well, then. One, a coffee cup that has been ground into powder; two, a dispatch case with a key in the lock; three, a stain on the floor.
That may have been done some time ago, I interrupted.
No, for it is still perceptibly damp and smells of coffee. Four, a fragment of some dark green fabriconly a thread or two, but recognizable.
Ah! I cried. That was what you sealed up in the envelope.
Yes. It may turn out to be a piece of one of Mrs Inglethorps own dresses, and quite unimportant. We shall see. Five, this! With a dramatic gesture, he pointed to a large splash of candle grease on the floor by the writing table. It must have been done since yesterday, otherwise a good housemaid would have at once removed it with blotting paper[71] and a hot iron. One of my best hats oncebut that is not to the point.
It was very likely done last night. We were very agitated. Or perhaps Mrs Inglethorp herself dropped her candle.
You brought only one candle into the room?
Yes. Lawrence Cavendish was carrying it. But he was very upset. He seemed to see something over hereI indicated the mantelpiecethat absolutely paralysed him.
That is interesting, said Poirot quickly. Yes, it is suggestivehis eye sweeping the whole length of the wall But it was not his candle that made this great patch, for you perceive that this is white grease; whereas Monsieur Lawrences candle, which is still on the dressing table, is pink. On the other hand, Mrs Inglethorp had no candlestick in the room, only a reading lamp.
Then, I said, what do you deduce?
To which my friend only made a rather irritating reply, urging me to use my own natural faculties.
And the sixth point? I asked. I suppose it is the sample of cocoa.
No, said Poirot thoughtfully, I might have included that in the six, but I did not. No, the sixth point I will keep to myself for the present.
He looked quickly round the room. There is nothing more to be done here, I think, unlesshe stared earnestly and long at the dead ashes in the grate. The fire burns and it destroys. But by chancethere might belet us see!
Deftly, on hands and knees, he began to sort the ashes from the grate into the fender, handling them with the greatest caution. Suddenly, he gave a faint exclamation.
The forceps, Hastings!
I quickly handed them to him, and with skill he extracted a small piece of half-charred paper.
There, mon ami! he cried. What do you think of that?
I scrutinized the fragment. This is an exact reproduction of it:
I was puzzled. It was unusually thick, quite unlike ordinary notepaper. Suddenly an idea struck me.
Poirot! I cried. This is a fragment of a will!
Exactly.
I looked at him sharply.
You are not surprised?
No, he said gravely, I expected it.
I relinquished the piece of paper, and watched him put it away in his case, with the same methodical care that he bestowed on everything. My brain was in a whirl. What was this complication of a will? Who had destroyed it? The person who had left the candle grease on the floor? Obviously. But how had anyone gained admission? All the doors had been bolted on the inside.
Now, my friend, said Poirot briskly, we will go. I should like to ask a few questions of the parlourmaidDorcas, her name is, is it not?
We passed through Alfred Inglethorps room, and Poirot delayed long enough to make a brief but fairly comprehensive examination of it. We went out through that door, locking both it and that of Mrs Inglethorps room as before.
I took him down to the boudoir which he had expressed a wish to see, and went myself in search of Dorcas.
When I returned with her, however, the boudoir was empty.
Poirot, I cried, where are you?
I am here, my friend.
He had stepped outside the French window, and was standing, apparently lost in admiration, before the various shaped flower beds.
Admirable! he murmured. Admirable! What symmetry! Observe that crescent; and those diamondstheir neatness rejoices the eye[72]. The spacing of the plants, also, is perfect. It has been recently done; is it not so?
Yes, I believe they were at it yesterday afternoon. But come inDorcas is here.
Eh bien, eh bien![73] Do not grudge me a moments satisfaction of the eye.
Yes, but this affair is more important.
And how do you know that these fine begonias are not of equal importance?
I shrugged my shoulders. There was really no arguing with him if he chose to take that line.
You do not agree? But such things have been. Well, we will come in and interview the brave Dorcas.
Dorcas was standing in the boudoir, her hands folded in front of her, and her grey hair rose in stiff waves under her white cap. She was the very model and picture of a good old-fashioned servant.
In her attitude towards Poirot, she was inclined to be suspicious, but he soon broke down her defences. He drew forward a chair.
Pray be seated, mademoiselle.
Thank you, sir.
You have been with your mistress many years, is it not so?
Ten years, sir.
That is a long time, and very faithful service. You were much attached to her, were you not?
She was a very good mistress to me, sir.
Then you will not object to answering a few questions. I put them to you with Mr Cavendishs full approval.
Oh, certainly, sir.
Then I will begin by asking you about the events of yesterday afternoon. Your mistress had a quarrel?
Yes, sir. But I dont know that I ought Dorcas hesitated.
Poirot looked at her keenly.
My good Dorcas, it is necessary that I should know every detail of that quarrel as fully as possible. Do not think that you are betraying your mistresss secrets. Your mistress lies dead, and it is necessary that we should know allif we are to avenge her. Nothing can bring her back to life, but we do hope, if there has been foul play, to bring the murderer to justice.
Amen to that, said Dorcas fiercely. And, naming no names, theres one in this house that none of us could ever abide! And an ill day it was when first he darkened the threshold[74].
Poirot waited for her indignation to subside, and then, resuming his business-like tone, he asked:
Now, as to this quarrel? What is the first you heard of it?
Well, sir, I happened to be going along the hall outside yesterday
What time was that?
I couldnt say exactly, sir, but it wasnt teatime by a long way. Perhaps four oclockor it may have been a bit later. Well, sir, as I said, I happened to be passing along, when I heard voices very loud and angry in here. I didnt exactly mean to listen, butwell, there it is. I stopped. The door was shut, but the mistress was speaking very sharp and clear, and I heard what she said quite plainly. You have lied to me, and deceived me, she said. I didnt hear what Mr Inglethorp replied. He spoke a good bit lower than she didbut she answered: How dare you? I have kept you and clothed you and fed you! You owe everything to me! And this is how you repay me! By bringing disgrace upon our name! Again I didnt hear what he said, but she went on: Nothing that you can say will make any difference. I see my duty clearly. My mind is made up[75]. You need not think that any fear of publicity, or scandal between husband and wife will deter me. Then I thought I heard them coming out, so I went off quickly.
You are sure it was Mr Inglethorps voice you heard?
Oh, yes, sir, whose elses could it be?
Well, what happened next?
Later, I came back to the hall; but it was all quiet. At five oclock, Mrs Inglethorp rang the bell and told me to bring her a cup of teanothing to eatto the boudoir. She was looking dreadfulso white and upset. Dorcas, she says, Ive had a great shock. Im sorry for that, mm, I says. Youll feel better after a nice hot cup of tea, mm. She had something in her hand. I dont know if it was a letter, or just a piece of paper, but it had writing on it, and she kept staring at it, almost as if she couldnt believe what was written there. She whispered to herself, as though she had forgotten I was there: These few wordsand everythings changed. And then she says to me: Never trust a man, Dorcas, theyre not worth it! I hurried off, and got her a good strong cup of tea, and she thanked me, and said shed feel better when shed drunk it. I dont know what to do, she says. Scandal between husband and wife is a dreadful thing, Dorcas. Id rather hush it up if I could. Mrs Cavendish came in just then, so she didnt say any more.
She still had the letter, or whatever it was, in her hand?
Yes, sir.
What would she be likely to do with it afterwards?
Well, I dont know, sir, I expect she would lock it up in that purple case of hers.
Is that where she usually kept important papers?
Yes, sir. She brought it down with her every morning, and took it up every night.
When did she lose the key of it?
She missed it yesterday at lunchtime, sir, and told me to look carefully for it. She was very much put out about it[76].
But she had a duplicate key?
Oh, yes, sir.
Dorcas was looking very curiously at him and, to tell the truth, so was I. What was all this about a lost key? Poirot smiled.
Never mind, Dorcas, it is my business to know things. Is this the key that was lost? He drew from his pocket the key that he had found in the lock of the dispatch case upstairs.
Dorcass eyes looked as though they would pop out of her head.
Thats it, sir, right enough. But where did you find it? I looked everywhere for it.
Ah, but you see it was not in the same place yesterday as it was today. Now, to pass to another subject, had your mistress a dark green dress in her wardrobe?
Dorcas was rather startled by the unexpected question.
No, sir.
Are you quite sure?
Oh, yes, sir.
Has anyone else in the house got a green dress? Dorcas reflected.
Miss Cynthia has a green evening dress.
Light or dark green?
A light green, sir; a sort of chiffon, they call it.
Ah, that is not what I want. And nobody else has anything green?
No, sirnot that I know of.
Poirots face did not betray a trace of whether he was disappointed or otherwise[77]. He merely remarked:
Good, we will leave that and pass on. Have you any reason to believe that your mistress was likely to take a sleeping powder last night?
Not last night, sir, I know she didnt.
Why do you know so positively?
Because the box was empty. She took the last one two days ago, and she didnt have any more made up.
You are quite sure of that?
Positive, sir.
Then that is cleared up! By the way, your mistress didnt ask you to sign any paper yesterday?
To sign a paper? No, sir.
When Mr Hastings and Mr Lawrence came in yesterday evening, they found your mistress busy writing letters. I suppose you can give me no idea to whom these letters were addressed?
Im afraid I couldnt, sir. I was out in the evening. Perhaps Annie could tell you, though shes a careless girl. Never cleared the coffee cups away last night. Thats what happens when Im not here to look after things.
Poirot lifted his hand.
Since they have been left, Dorcas, leave them a little longer, I pray you. I should like to examine them.
Very well, sir.
What time did you go out last evening?
About six oclock, sir.
Thank you, Dorcas, that is all I have to ask you. He rose and strolled to the window. I have been admiring these flower beds. How many gardeners are employed here, by the way?
Only three now, sir. Five, we had, before the war, when it was kept as a gentlemans place should be. I wish you could have seen it then, sir. A fair sight it was. But now theres only old Manning, and young William, and a new-fashioned woman gardener in breeches and such-like[78]. Ah, these are dreadful times!
The good times will come again, Dorcas. At least, we hope so. Now, will you send Annie to me here?
Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.
How did you know that Mrs Inglethorp took sleeping powders? I asked, in lively curiosity, as Dorcas left the room. And about the lost key and the duplicate?
One thing at a time[79]. As to the sleeping powders, I knew by this. He suddenly produced a small cardboard box, such as chemists use for powders[80].
Where did you find it?
In the wash-stand drawer in Mrs Inglethorps bedroom. It was Number Six of my catalogue.
But I suppose, as the last powder was taken two days ago, it is not of much importance?
Probably not, but do you notice anything that strikes you as peculiar about this box?
I examined it closely.
No, I cant say that I do.
Look at the label.
I read the label carefully: One powder to be taken at bedtime, if required. Mrs Inglethorp. No, I see nothing unusual.
Not the fact that there is no chemists name?
Ah! I exclaimed. To be sure, that is odd!
Have you ever known a chemist to send out a box like that, without his printed name?
No, I cant say that I have.
I was becoming quite excited, but Poirot damped my ardour by remarking[81]:
Yet the explanation is quite simple. So do not intrigue yourself, my friend.
An audible creaking proclaimed the approach of Annie, so I had no time to reply.
Annie was a fine, strapping girl, and was evidently labouring under intense excitement, mingled with a certain ghoulish enjoyment of the tragedy.
Poirot came to the point at once, with a business-like briskness.
I sent for you, Annie, because I thought you might be able to tell me something about the letters Mrs Inglethorp wrote last night. How many were there? And can you tell me any of the names and addresses?
Annie considered.
There were four letters, sir. One was to Miss Howard, and one was to Mr Wells, the lawyer, and the other two I dont think I remember, siroh, yes, one was to Rosss, the caterers in Tadminster. The other one, I dont remember.
Think, urged Poirot.
Annie racked her brains in vain[82].
Im sorry, sir, but its clean gone. I dont think I can have noticed it.
It does not matter, said Poirot, not betraying any sign of disappointment. Now I want to ask you about something else. There is a saucepan in Mrs Inglethorps room with some cocoa in it. Did she have that every night?
Yes, sir, it was put in her room every evening, and she warmed it up in the nightwhenever she fancied it.
What was it? Plain cocoa?
Yes, sir, made with milk, with a teaspoonful of sugar, and two teaspoonfuls of rum in it.
Who took it to her room?
I did, sir.
Always?
Yes, sir.
At what time?
When I went to draw the curtains, as a rule, sir.
Did you bring it straight up from the kitchen then?
No, sir, you see theres not much room on the gas stove, so Cook used to make it early, before putting the vegetables on for supper. Then I used to bring it up, and put it on the table by the swing door, and take it into her room later.
The swing door is in the left wing, is it not?
Yes, sir.
And the table, is it on this side of the door, or on the furtherservants side?
Its this side, sir.
What time did you bring it up last night?
About quarter past seven, I should say, sir.
And when did you take it into Mrs Inglethorps room?
When I went to shut up, sir. About eight oclock. Mrs Inglethorp came up to bed before Id finished.
Then, between seven-fifteen and eight oclock, the cocoa was standing on the table in the left wing?
Yes, sir. Annie had been growing redder and redder in the face, and now she blurted out unexpectedly:
And if there was salt in it, sir, it wasnt me. I never took the salt near it.
What makes you think there was salt in it? asked Poirot.
Seeing it on the tray, sir.
You saw some salt on the tray?
Yes. Coarse kitchen salt, it looked. I never noticed it when I took the tray up, but when I came to take it into the mistresss room I saw it at once, and I suppose I ought to have taken it down again, and asked Cook to make some fresh. But I was in a hurry, because Dorcas was out, and I thought maybe the cocoa itself was all right, and the salt had only gone on the tray. So I dusted it off with my apron, and took it in.
I had the utmost difficulty in controlling my excitement. Unknown to herself, Annie had provided us with an important piece of evidence. How she would have gaped if she had realized that her coarse kitchen salt was strychnine, one of the most deadly poisons known to mankind. I marvelled at Poirots calm. His self-control was astonishing. I awaited his next question with impatience, but it disappointed me.
When you went into Mrs Inglethorps room, was the door leading into Miss Cynthias room bolted?