what I knew he would do – unstoppers it and sniffs. And in that little bottle is ethyl chloride, a very powerful instant anaesthetic.
It gives me just the moment or two of unconsciousness I need. I take from his pocket the two things that I knew would be there.
This key was one of them – the other ‘ He stopped and then went on.
‘I questioned at the time the reason the inspector gave for the body being concealed behind the curtain. To gain time? No, there was more than that. And so I thought of just one thing the post, my friend. The evening post that comes at half past nine or thereabouts. Say the murderer does not find something he expects to find, but that something may be delivered by post later.
Clearly, then, he must come back. But the crime must not be discovered by the maid when she comes in, or the police would take possession of the flat, so he hides the body behind the curtain.
And the maid suspects nothing and lays the letters on the table as usual.’ ‘The letters?’ ‘Yes, the letters.’ Poirot drew something from his pocket. ‘This is the second article I took from M. Donovan when he was unconscious.’ He showed the superscription – a typewritten envelope addressed to Mrs Ernestine Grant. ‘But I will ask you one thing first, M. Faulkener, before we look at the contents of this letter. Are you or are you not in love with Mademoiselle Patricia?’ ‘I care for Pat damnably – but I’ve never thought I had a chance.’ ‘You thought that she cared for M. Donovan? It may be that she had begun to care for him – but it was only a beginning, my friend. It is for you to make her forget – to stand by her in her trouble.’ ‘Trouble?’ said Jimmy sharply.
‘Yes, trouble. We will do all we can to keep her name out of it, but it will be impossible to do so entirely. She was, you see, the motive.’ He ripped open the envelope that he held. An enclosure fell out. The covering letter was brief, and was from a firm of solicitors.
Dear Madam, The document you enclose is quite in order, and the fact of the marriage having taken place in a foreign country does not invalidate it in any way.
Yours truly, etc.
Poirot spread out the enclosure. It was a certificate of marriage Ietween Donovan Bailey and Ernestine Grant, dated eight years go.
‘Oh, my God!’ said Jimmy. ‘Pat said she’d had a letter from the Xtoman asking to see her, but she never dreamed it was anything i mp0rtant.’ poirot nodded. ‘M. Donovan knew – he went to see his wife t:his evening before going to the flat above – a strange irony, by the ray, that led the unfortunate woman to come to this building where her rival lived – he murdered her in cold blood, and then vent on to his evening’s amusement. His wife must have told him tzhat she had sent the marriage certificate to her solicitors and was expecting to hear from them. Doubtless he himself had tried to nake her believe that there was a flaw in the marriage.’ ‘Ie seemed in quite good spirits, too, all the evening. M. oir0t, you haven’t let him escape?’ Jimmy shuddered.
‘There is no escape for him,’ said Poirot gravely. ‘You need not Ileear.’ ‘It’s Pat I’m thinking about mostly,’ said Jimmy. ‘You don’t tthin – she really cared.’ ‘3fon ami, that is your part,’ said Poirot gently. ‘To make her tturnto you and forget. I do not think you will find it very difficult!’
what I knew he would do – unstoppers it and sniffs. And in that little bottle is ethyl chloride, a very powerful instant anaesthetic.
It gives me just the moment or two of unconsciousness I need. I take from his pocket the two things that I knew would be there.
This key was one of them – the other ‘ He stopped and then went on.
‘I questioned at the time the reason the inspector gave for the body being concealed behind the curtain. To gain time? No, there was more than that. And so I thought of just one thing the post, my friend. The evening post that comes at half past nine or thereabouts. Say the murderer does not find something he expects to find, but that something may be delivered by post later.