‘I said, can a legend – or a ghost, if you like to call it that – saw through an ivy stem? I’m not saying anything about Cornwall.
Any boy might go out too far and get into difficulties – though Ronald could swim when he was four years old. But the ivy’s different. Both the boys were very naughty. They’d discovered they could climb up and down by the ivy. They were always doing it. One day – Gerald was away at the time – Ronald did it once too often, and the ivy gave way and he fell. Fortunately he didn’t damage himself seriously. But I went out and examined the ivy: it was cut through, M. Poirot – deliberately cut through.’ ‘It is very serious what you are telling me there, madame. Yo say your younger boy was away from home at the moment?’ ‘Yes.’
‘And at the time of the ptomaine poisoning, was he still away?’ ‘No, they were both there.’
‘Curious,’ murmured Poirot. ‘Now, madame, who are the inmates of your establishment?’
‘Miss Saunders, the children’s governess, and John Gardiner, my husband’s secretary – ‘
Mrs Lemesurier paused, as though slightly embarrassed.
‘And who else, madame?’
‘Major Roger Lemesurier, whom you also met on that night, I believe, stays with us a good deal.’
‘Ah, yes – he is a cousin, is he not?’
‘A distant cousin. He does not belong to our branch of the family. Still, I suppose now he is my husband’s nearest relative.
He is a dear fellow, and we are all very fond of him. The boys are devoted to him.’
‘It was not he who taught them to climb up the ivy?’
‘It might have been. He incites them to mischief often enough.’ ‘Madame, I apologize for what I said to you earlier. The danger is real, and I believe that I can be of assistance. I propose that you should invite us both to stay with you. Your husband will not object?’
‘Oh no. But he will believe it to be all of no use. It makes me furious the way he just sits around and expects the boy to die.’
‘Calm yourself, madame. Let us make our arrangements methodically.’
Our arrangements were duly made, and the following day saw us flying northward. Poirot was sunk in a reverie. He came out of it, to remark abruptly: ‘It was from a train such as this that Vincent Lemesurier fell?’
He put a slight accent on the ‘fell’.
‘You don’t suspect foul play there, surely?’ I asked.
‘Has it struck you, Hastings, that some of the Lemesurier deaths were, shall we say, capable of being arranged? Take that of Vincent, for instance. Then the Eton boy – an accident with a gun is always ambiguous. Supposing this child had fallen from the nursery window and been dashed to death – what more natural and unsuspicious? But why only the one child, Hastings? Who profits by the death of the elder child? His younger brother, a child of sevenl Absurdl’ ‘They mean to do away with the other later,’ I suggested, though with the vaguest ideas as to who ‘they’ were.
Poirot shook his head as though dissatisfied.
‘Ptomaine poisoning,’ he mused. ‘Atropine will produce much the same symptoms. Yes, there is need for our presence.’ Mrs Lemesurier welcomed us enthusiastically. Then she took us to her husband’s study and left us with him. He had changed a good deal since I saw him last. His shoulders stooped more than ever, and his face had a curious pale grey tinge. He listened while Poirot explained our presence in the house.
‘How exactly like Sadie’s practical common sensei’ he said at last. ‘Remain by all means, M. Poirot, and I thank you for coming; but – what is written, is written. The way of the transgressor is hard. We Lemesuriers/enow – none of us can escape the doom.’ Poirot mentioned the sawn-through ivy, but Hugo seemed very little impressed.
‘Doubtless some careless gardener – yes, yes, there may be an instrument, but the purpose behind is plain; and I will tell you this, M. Poirot, it cannot be long delayed.’ Poirot looked at him attentively.