Chapter 18 Chapter Eighteen

My heart is heavy and I have no desire to write about it. Try not to think about it if possible.Hercule Poirot was dead, and Arthur Hastings was dead at the same time. Let me now state this fact nakedly.It's the only thing I can do. His cause of death was judged to be natural.That is, died of a heart attack.Franklin said he had expected his death this way.There is no doubt that the shock of Norton's death led to his heart attack.There must have been some oversight in that the ampoule containing amyl nitrite was no longer by his pillow. Is this an oversight?Or did someone take it on purpose?No, it must be more complicated.Logically speaking, X could never expect Poirot to have a heart attack.

The reason for this is that I do not believe that Poirot died a natural death.He was murdered like Norton and Barbara Franklin.Why they were killed is unknown... Who killed them is also a mystery that I can't solve. Norton's coroner ruled his death a suicide.The forensic doctor raised the only doubt.He said that people who shoot themselves usually don't hit the center of the forehead.But this can only be regarded as a shadow of doubt.Everything is clear; the locked door from the inside, the key in the pocket, the closed window...and the pistol in the dead man's hand.Norton has long complained of headaches, and the ventures he's invested in lately don't seem to be going his way.While it cannot be concluded that this was the cause of the suicide, it would not be unreasonable to imagine that these in time contributed to an outcome.

The pistol was indeed his.During his stay at Styles Hall, she had seen it twice on his dressing table.That's it, everything is settled.Here again a clever murder was enacted, which, as in previous cases, left no room for other interpretations to intervene. In the duel between Poirot and X, X won. This time it was my turn to deal with X. I went into Poirot's room and took the briefcase with me. I know that Poirot appointed me executor.Therefore, I have every right to do so.The key hung around Poirot's neck. I went back to my room and opened the box. I froze immediately. All the materials related to X's case disappeared.I had seen it with my own eyes a day or two before, when Poirot opened the box with the key.If evidence is needed, this is nothing more than evidence that X is operating in the dark!Since it wasn't Poirot himself who destroyed the document (which is absolutely impossible), X must have done it!

X. X.Killer X. However, the box was not empty.I remembered what Poirot once said: There are hints in this that X does not know. Is this the tip? It contained a cheap copy of Shakespeare's "Othello," and another of St. John Irwin's plays, "John Farhason."In the third act of the latter book, there is a bookmark. I stared blankly at these two books. There must be a clue left by Poirot for me-but it means nothing to me!What does it really mean? All I can guess is that it might be some kind of password.A cipher that implies the words in the script.But, if so, how to decipher those codes?

I couldn't find the word or text that crossed the line. I searched patiently, and secretly baked it with fire, but it was all in vain. I carefully read the third act of "John Farhassen."A thrilling scene with a string of lines from the "imbecile" John Cruti, with Farhason's exit in search of the man who cheated on his sister, brings the drama to a close.The character descriptions stand out--but I cannot believe that Poirot left this book in order to hone my literary appreciation! As I was turning the pages of the book, a piece of paper finally slipped.There was Poirot's handwriting on the note, and the latter sentence was written.

"Go and speak to my valet, George." Yes, there's a bit of an eyebrow here.If this is a cipher, maybe George holds the key to deciphering it.I must find out where George lives and see him. But before that, first I had to arrange a sad so-called funeral for a close friend. This is the land where Poirot lived with an indissoluble bond when he first came to England.Finally, rest here too. Judith has been very filial to me these days. She spent a lot of time with me and helped with my funeral.She is so gentle, so considerate.And Elizabeth Currow and Pod Carrington were kind to me.

Elizabeth Currow was not as devastated by Norton's death as I thought.Perhaps she had already kept a deeper sorrow within herself alone. So, it's all over... Yes, you still have to write it down. I must write very clearly. The funeral went off without a hitch.Judith and I sat down to discuss the future. At this point she said, "But I don't live here anymore." "Don't live here?" "Yes, I don't want to live in England." I stared blankly at her. "I don't want to make Dad sadder, so I haven't told you. But I can't continue to hide it. I hope you won't be too depressed. I'm going to Africa with Dr. Franklin."

I finally burst into anger.If she is not allowed to do this, the society will never forgive her.Words are awesome!If his wife is still alive and works as Franklin's assistant in England, it can be justified.However, it is another matter to go to Africa with him now.I will never allow Judith to do that! She listened to me without saying a word, and then smiled slightly. "But, Pa," she said, "I went with him as Mrs. Franklin, not as his assistant." Almost a slap in the face! I said—rather than saying that, it would be better to ask her incoherently. "Where is A-la-Araton?"

Judith smiled slightly and said, "I have nothing to do with him. I told you before, if Dad didn't make me so angry, and I'm glad Dad misunderstood me. I don't want Dad to know It's John I love." "But one night I saw Arradon kissing you on the verandah." "Oh, maybe. I was in a bad mood that night. It's not uncommon. Daddy has it too?" I said, "You can't marry Franklin yet, anyway, it's too early." "No, yes, I hope to go with John, we don't have to wait any longer." Judith and Franklin, Franklin and Judith.

Who can understand what is in my heart?A thought that existed in the back of my mind not too long ago. Judith, who held the small bottle in her hand, raised the idea that the useless should give way to the useful in a young and lively tone!Judith, whom I love, and which Poirot loves!The two people Norton witnessed... Could it be Judith and Franklin?If yes... no, absolutely not.Judith is not, if it is Franklin... there is a possibility, he is a ruthless person, if he decides to kill, he may kill several people. Poirot volunteered to let Franklin see a doctor. why?Perhaps Poirot had said something to him that morning?

But Judith won't.My sweet and prudish Judith won't. But, that marvelous attitude of Poirot, that marvelous phrasing, "You will say: 'Put down the curtain!'" Suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind.There is no such reason!impossible!Could it be that everything about X is fictional?Did Poirot come to Styles because he feared the tragedy of the Franklins?Maybe he came to spy on Judith?That's why you keep it to me?Is it because the story about X is completely fictional and a kind of smoke screen? Could it be that the center of the tragedy is my daughter Judith? Othello!It was also Othello that I took off the shelf the night Mrs. Franklin died.Will it be a clue? Some people said that Judith that night was reminiscent of the Jewish woman with the same name before the head of Holphinus was chopped off.Judith—has she already harbored the idea of ​​killing in her heart?