Ellie Henderson laughed suddenly – a reckless defiant laugh.
‘Your theory may be difficult to prove, M. Poirot. There are a good many passengers on this ship.’ Poirot bowed to her. ‘I will use a phrase from one of your detective story writers. “I have my methods, Watson.” ‘
The following evening, at dinner, every passenger found a typewritten slip by his plate requesting him to be in the main loung at 8.30. When the company were assembled, the Captain stepped on to the raised platform where the orchestra usually played and addressed them.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, you all know of the tragedy which took place yesterday. I am sure you all wish to co-operate in bringing the perpetrator of that foul crime to justice.’ He paused and cleared his throat. ‘We have on board with us M. Hercule Poirot who is probably known to you all as a man who has had wide experience in – er – such matters. I hope you will listen carefully to what he has to say.’
It was at this minute that Colonel Clapperton, who had not been at dinner, came in and sat down next to General Forbes. He looked like a man bewildered by sorrow – not at all like a man conscious of great relief. Either he was a very good actor or else he had been genuinely fond of his disagreeable wife.
‘M. Hercule Poirot,’ said the Captain and stepped down. Poirot took his place. He looked comically serf-important as he beamed on his audience.
‘Messieurs, mesdames,’ he began. ‘It is most kind of you to be so indulgent as to listen to me. M. le Cataine has told you that I have had a certain experience in these matters. I have, it is true, a littie idea of my own about how to get to the bottom of this particular case.’ He made a sign and a steward pushed forward and passed on to him a bulky, shapeless object wrapped in a sheet.
‘What I am about to do may surprise you a little,’ Poirot warned them. ‘It may occur to you that I am eccentric, perhaps mad.
Nevertheless I assure you that behind my madness there is – as you English say – a method.’
His eyes met those of Miss Henderson for just a minute. He began unwrapping the bulky object.
‘I have here, mesdeurs and mesdames, an important witness to the truth of who killed Mrs Clapperton.’ With a deft hand he whisked away the last enveloping cloth, and the object it concealed was revealed – an almost life-sized wooden doll, dressed in a velvet suit and lace collar.
‘Now, Arthur,’ said Poirot and his voice changed subtly – it was no longer foreign – it had instead a confident English, a slightly Cockney inflection. ‘Can you tell me – I repeat – can you tell me – anything at all about the death of Mrs Clapperton?’
The doll’s neck oscillated a little, its wooden lower jaw dropped and wavered and a shrill high-pitched woman’s voice spoke:
‘What is it, John? The door’s locked. I don’t want to be disturbed by the stewards…’ There was a cry – an overturned chair – a man stood swaying, his hand to his throat – trying to speak – trying… Then suddenly, his figure seemed to crumple up. He pitched headlong.
It was Colonel Clapperton.
Poirot and the ship’s doctor rose from their knees by the prostrate figure.
‘All over, I’m afraid. Heart,’ said the doctor briefly.
Poirot nodded. ‘The shock of having his trick seen through,’ he said.
He turned to General Forbes. ‘It was you, General, who gave me a valuable hint with your mention of the music hall stage. I puzzle – I think – and then it comes to me. Supposing that before the war Clapperton was a ventriloquist. In that case, it would be perfectly possible for three people to hear Mrs Clapperton speak from inside her cabin when she was already dead…’ Ellie Henderson was beside him. Her eyes were dark and full of pain. ‘Did you know his heart was weak?’ she asked.
‘I guessed it… Mrs Clapperton talked of her own heart being affected, but she struck me as the type of woman who likes to be thought ill. Then I picked up a torn prescription with a very strong dose of digitalin in it. Digitalin is a heart medicine but it couldn’t be Mrs Clapperton’s because digitalin dilates the pupils of the eyes. I had never noticed such a phenomenon with her but when I looked at his eyes I saw the signs at once.’ Ellie murmured: ‘So you thought – it might end – this way?’ ‘The best way, don’t you think, mademoiselle?’ he said gently.