Chapter 24 Chapter Twenty-Four

The telegram arrived about six o'clock that evening. Due to the special request of the sender, it was delivered by hand, not by phone.Hercule Poirot, who had been lingering for some time near the front door, happened to take the telegram from Lanscomber which he had received from the boy who delivered it. He hastily tore open the envelope of the telegram, which contained only a few words and a signature. Poirot heaved a deep sigh of relief. Then he pulled a one pound note from his pocket and handed it to the stunned paperboy. "There are times," he said to Lan Scamber, "when frugality should be given up."

"Very likely, sir," said Lanscamber politely. "Where is Inspector Maulton?" asked Poirot. "One Mr. Policeman," said Lanscamber with disgust ... while insinuating that it was impossible for him to remember such things as policemen's names ... "has gone. The other, I believe, is in the study. " "Excellent," said Poirot. "I'll go find him right away." He patted Lan Scamber on the shoulder again and said: "Be courageous, we're almost there!" Lan Scamber looked a little puzzled, because he couldn't think of anything that was too soon or not.

He said: "So you're not going to take the nine-thirty train, sir?" "Don't lose hope," Poirot told him. Poirot left, turned suddenly and asked: "I don't know. Do you remember what was the first thing Mrs. Lansquinette said when she arrived here on the day of your master's funeral?" "I remember very well, sir," said Lanscambe, brightening up, "Miss Cora... Excuse me, it was Mrs. Lansquenett ... I always thought of her as Miss Cora, because..." "It's a natural phenomenon." "She said to me, 'Hi, Lanscomber. Long time no see, you used to bring some pastries for us to eat in the hut.' All the children had their own hut... by the garden wall In the summer, when there is a party, I used to take some cakes for the little ladies and gentlemen...the young ones, you know, sir. Miss Kerner, sir, always likes to eat very much."

Poirot nodded. "Well," he said, "that's exactly what I thought. Yes, very typical, that line." He went into the study to find Inspector Morton, and handed him the telegram without a word. Maulton looked at it inexplicably. "I can't read a word." "It's time to tell you everything." Inspector Morton grinned. "You sound like a young lady in a Victorian play. But it's time for you to tell. I can't take this scene any longer. That Banks guy still insists he Poisoned Richard Abernether and boasted we couldn't find out how he did it. What I don't understand is why every time there's a murder someone automatically comes up and yells that it was him What the hell do you think they're doing? I've never been able to figure it out."

"In this case, perhaps seeking asylum from being responsible for oneself... in other words... the Foddick Asylum." "Browdmoore is more likely." "That might as well." "Did he do it, Poirot? The lady Gilchrist said she had told you, and that fits with what Richard Abernether said of his niece. If she did Mr. Yeah, she'd be implicated. But, you know, I don't see that girl doing all that much crime. But then again, she'd do anything to cover it for him." "I'll tell you everything..." "Yes, yes, tell me everything! And for God's sake, tell me!"

This time Hercule Poirot gathered his audience in the drawing room. The faces facing him were more interesting than nervous.They were threatened by Inspector Maulton and Inspector Barwell.Hercule Poirot, the private detective, appeared almost a joke in comparison after the police questioned him and demanded an account of his whereabouts. Timothy's whispers to his wife can be said to roughly express the common feeling: "Fucking little doctor! En Huisuo must have lost his head!... That's all I can say." It seemed that Hercule Poirot had some work to achieve his proper effect.

He starts off with a bit of arrogance. "Again I announce that I am going away! This morning I announced the twelve o'clock train. This evening I announced the nine-thirty train...that is, after dinner, I am going. I am going because here It's none of my business." "Should have told him that earlier." Timothy's criticism was still audible. "It's never been his business here. These guys are really thick-skinned!" "I came to solve a riddle. Now the riddle has been solved. First, let me repeat the points Mr. Entwhistle drew my attention to."

"First, Mr. Richard Abernether died suddenly. Second, after his funeral, his sister, Mrs. Cora Lansquenet, said, 'He was murdered, wasn't he?' Third, Mrs. Lansquenett was killed. The question is, are these three events related? Let us see what happened further down. Miss Gilchrist, the companion of the dead woman , was admitted to the hospital after eating a piece of arsenic-laced wedding cake. This is a continuation of those things that happened one after another." "As I told you this morning, in my investigations, I found nothing...no evidence to support the claim that Mr. Abernethie was poisoned. Likewise, I can say that I found nothing Proves that he wasn't poisoned. But it gets a whole lot easier if you go any further. No doubt Cora Lansquenet asked that appalling question at the funeral. Everyone agrees on that. And it doesn't Doubtful, the next day, Mrs. Lansquenett was murdered...with a hand axe. The local postman who delivered the mail was convinced...though he couldn't swear for sure...he didn't deliver the wedding cake package. If so, then that package was delivered by someone personally, because we don't know who that person is... We have to pay special attention to those who have actually been there and may have left the package at the location where it was found Those were: Miss Gilchrist herself, of course; Susan Banks who was there that day for the Inquiry Court; Mr Entwhistle (yes, we must take him into consideration; remember he was there when Cora made that disturbing remark). There were two others. An old gentleman who called himself Gusri... an art critic, and one or two who went to the fundraiser that morning nun."

"Now, I've decided to start by assuming that what the postman said was correct. If he recalls correctly, then this small group of suspects must be approached very carefully. Miss Gilchrist cannot Charles Abernether's death, and Mrs. Lansquenet's death did her little good... her death actually cost her her job and made her possibly hard to find. New job. And Miss Gilchrist was literally hospitalized with arsenic poisoning." "Susan Banks did benefit from Richard Abernether's death, and Mrs Lansquenett's death did her some favors... although her motive, for that matter, was safety. She might have had good reason to believe that Miss Gilchrist had overheard Cora Lansquenet mentioning her in a conversation with her brother, and she might have made up her mind to get rid of Gilchrist. Miss Lister. Remember, she herself refused to share the wedding cake and also suggested calling the doctor the next morning, during Miss Gilchrist's nocturnal seizure."

"Mr. Entwhistle benefits from neither death... but he has considerable control over Mr. Abernether's business, and the trust, and there may be some reasons why Richard M. Abernethir lived too long. But . . . you will say . . . if Mr Entwhistle, why did he seek me?" "To this I will answer... this is not the first time a murderer has had too much confidence in himself." "Let's talk about the two outsiders I called. Mr. Gusrie and a nun. If Mr. Gusrie is really Mr. Gusrie, an art critic, then he is clear of suspicion. The same is true for the nun. If she is really The nun's words. The question is, are they really who they claim to be, or are they just fakes?"

"And I can say that there seems to be a queer...feature about it...Let's just say...a nun keeps showing up. A nun shows up at Mr. Timothy Abernether's door, and Gilchrist Miss Turt believed she was the same nun she had seen at Richter St. Mary's. And a nun, or nuns, were here the day before Mr. Abernether's death..." George Crossfield murmured, "Trinity, the nun." Poirot continued: "How come, we have some great things... the death of Mr. Abernethir, the murder of Cora Lansquenet, the poisoned wedding cake, the 'feature' of the 'nun'." "I add a few other features of the case that caught my attention: a visit from an art critic, the smell of oil paint, a view of Port Friesen, and finally a bouquet of malachite Wax flowers on the table. Now there is a Chinese vase." "Recalling these things led me to the truth...and I'm going to tell you the truth now." "I told you the first part this morning. Richard Abernethie died suddenly... but if it hadn't been for what her sister said at his funeral... there would be no reason to suspect that something was wrong at all. Reason. The murder case of Cha Abernether was tied to that sentence. As a result, you all believed it was murder, and you believed it not really because of that sentence, but because Cora Lanskey Neat, her own personality. Because Cora has always been known for telling the truth in embarrassing moments. So the case of Richard being murdered is not just about what Cora said, but Cora herself." Now let me ask you a question that I suddenly asked myself: "How well do you all know Cora Lansquenet?" He was silent for a while, and Susan suddenly asked, "What do you mean?" Poirot continued: "Not at all... Here's the answer! The younger generation has never even seen her, and if they did, it was when they were very young. In fact, only three people here today really know Cora. ​​Lance Camber, old and dazzled master and servant; Mr. Timothy Abernethy, who had seen her only a few times during her wedding days, and Mrs. Leo Abernethy, who knew her well, but had I haven't seen her for more than twenty years." "So I said to myself, 'What if it wasn't Cora Lansquinette who came to the funeral that day'?" "You mean Aunt Cora...not Aunt Cora?" Susan asked incredulously. "You mean it wasn't Aunt Cora who was murdered, but someone else?" "No, no, it was Cora Lansquenet who was murdered. But it wasn't Cora Lansquenet who came to her brother's funeral the day before he died. The woman who came that day had only one purpose To . . . to take advantage of, so to speak, the fact that Richard's sudden death had given rise to a belief in the minds of his relatives that he had been murdered. She had done it very well!" "Nonsense! Why? What's the point?" said Moody curtly. "Why, to divert attention from another murder, Cora Lansquenett's own murder. Because if Cora says Richard was murdered and she herself was murdered the next day , the two deaths must at least be considered as a possible causal link. But if Cora was murdered and her villa was vandalized and broken into, and if the obvious signs of robbery were not convincing to the police, then they would... Where to find the answer? Right where it is, isn't it? The suspicion must fall on the woman she lives with." Miss Gilchrist protested in an almost aboveboard tone: "Oh come on...really...Mr. Pandariel...you're not implying that I'm going to kill for a pomegranate brooch and some cheap sketches?" "No," said Poirot. "For something a little more than that. One of those sketches, Miss Gilchrist, is of the Port of Polfreckson, and this one, Mrs. Bankes is so clever, Found it from a landscape card that still had the old wharf painted on it. But Mrs. Lansquenet was always sketching from life. Then I remembered Mr. Entwhistle mentioning it. His first visit to the cottage I noticed that it smelled like oil paint. You can paint, can't you, Miss Gilchrist? Your father was a painter, and you know a lot about painting. Assuming Cora bought it cheap at an auction A valuable painting, assuming she doesn't know its value herself but you do. You know she's expecting an old friend of hers who's coming to see her soon, he's a well-known art critic. Then she Brother dies suddenly...you have a plan in your head. Adding some sedatives to her morning tea makes her groggy unconscious all day on the day of the funeral and you yourself come to Enderby to play Her character. You know it all from what she says about Enderby. She says a lot about her childhood, as people do at a certain age. You can easily tell old Lance Campbell said something about the pastry and the hut, got him to believe you were in case he got suspicious. Yes, you put your knowledge of Enderby to good use that day, and hooked memories now and then. They didn't One suspects that you're not Cora. ​​You're wearing her dress, which is slightly understated, and since she uses fake bangs, it makes it easier for you. No one has ever seen Cora in the last twenty years ...and people change so much in twenty years that one often hears the saying: 'I don't recognize her at all!' But one's eccentricities are never forgotten, and Cora has The real eccentricities, the peculiar eccentricities you have carefully practiced in front of the mirror." "And the strange thing is that the first mistake you made is here. You forgot that the image in the mirror is upside down. You are looking at yourself in the mirror imitating Cora and tilting her head to one side like a bird. When it comes to life, you don't think it's actually supposed to be the other way. Let's start by saying that you see Cora's head tilted to the right...but you forget that your head is actually tilted to the left to produce Right-leaning images.” "That's where Helen Abernether was perplexed when you made that famous allusion. She felt as if something was 'wrong'. I myself had that night when Rosamund Sheen made the unexpected statement of what was going on. Got it. Everyone was staring at whoever was talking. So Mrs. Leo thought there was something 'wrong', something must be wrong with Cora Lansquenet. Another night, after talking in the mirror After the image and 'look at myself', I think Mrs. Leo experimented with a mirror. Her own face is not particularly symmetrical. Draw gourds, and then look in the mirror... Of course, the image in the mirror made her look 'wrong', and at that moment, she understood what was wrong on the day of the funeral. She solved the doubts in her heart... If it wasn't for Ke Na changed her habit and tilted her head in the opposite direction...it was very unlikely...that the Cora she saw was not Cora. ​​Neither seemed to make sense to her. At the time she was determined to tell her discovery to Mr Entwhistle. Some early riser has been up and about, followed her downstairs, fearing she might reveal something, and knocked her down with the heavy doorstop." Poirot paused, and then said: "I can also tell you now, Miss Gilchrist, that Mrs. Abernethy's concussion is not serious. She will soon be able to tell us her own story." "I've never done any of that," said Miss Gilchrist. "This is simply malicious slander." "It was you who came that day," Mike Sheen said suddenly.He had been studying Miss Gilchrist's face. "I should have seen that sooner...I have a vague feeling I've seen you somewhere before...but of course one never pays much attention..." He paused. "Yes, one doesn't bother to notice a companion," said Miss Gilchrist.Her voice trembled a little. "A toiler, a toiler to the house! Almost a servant! But go on, M. Poirot. Go on with this fantastic nonsense!" "The insinuation of murder at the funeral is only the first step, of course," said Poirot. "You have other means. Any time you are ready to admit that you heard the conversation between Richard and his sister. No doubt, What he actually told her was that he was dying, which explains the hint in the letter he wrote to her after he got home. 'Nun' was another hint from you. The... or the two A nun was at the cottage on the day of the Inquiry Court and inspired you to mention a nun who was 'always following you', and you were there when you were anxious to hear what Mrs Timothy had to say to her sister-in-law in Enderby. Useful. Also because you want to come with her and see for yourself how the suspicions are going. Really poison yourself with arsenic, badly but not fatally, it's a very old method... I can say that just caused Morton doubts about you." "But what about the picture?" said Rosamund. "What kind of painting is that?" Poirot opened a telegram slowly. "I called Mr Entwhistle this morning, a conscientious man, to go to Stansfield Farm under the guise of Mr Abernethy's own authority" (Poirot stared at Timothy ) "to look at the pictures in Miss Gilchrist's room, and pick out the Port Freckson one, under the pretense that it is to be reframed, and to give Miss Gilchrist a Surprise. He brought the painting back to London and went to find Mr. Gu Siri. I had telegraphed Mr. Gu in advance. After removing the hastily sketched Port Freiksen on the surface, the original painting was revealed out." He picked up the telegram and read: "It's absolutely true to Van Meer's work, Gu Siri." Suddenly, Miss Gilchrist burst out a lot of words as if she had been shocked by electricity. "I knew it was Van Meer. I knew it! She didn't know! What about Lambrant and Italian pre-Renaissance works, looking at a Van Meer work and not recognizing it! Always talking Art babbles...not really at all! She's a complete stupid woman. Keeps talking about this place...Enderby and what they did here when they were kids and what about Richard and Timothy Well, what about Laura, and all the others. Always rich! Always the best. You don't know how tedious and annoying it is for one person to repeat it, hour after hour, Day after day, and all you can say is 'Oh yes, Mrs. Lansquenett' and 'Really, Mrs. Lansquenett?' pretending to be interested. It's bored... bored... ... bored ... and nothing to look forward to ... and then ... a Van Meer picture! I read in the paper that a Van Meer picture sold for more than two thousand pounds one day!" "You killed her...inhumanely...just for these two thousand pounds?" Susan said in an unbelievable tone. "Two thousand pounds," said Poirot, "enough for the rent and equipment of a teahouse..." Miss Gilchrist turned to face him. "At least," she said, "and you really understand. This is my only chance. I need a fund." Her voice vibrated with the focus and intensity of her dream. "I'd like to call it 'Coconut Tree'. And draw a baby camel on the tea list. You can get pretty good china now and then...export returns...not terribly white. Opening in some elegant area frequented by elegant people. I've thought about Raleigh...or Chichester...I'm sure I can make it." She paused, then added thoughtfully: "The oak table . . . …and the little blue shaped chair, with the red and white striped upholstery…” For a while the teahouse, which was never going to open, seemed more real than the Ender than this solid Victorian drawing room...   It was Inspector Morton who broke her spell. Miss Gilchrist turned to him politely. "Oh, of course," she said, "right now. I don't want to cause any trouble, and I'm sure, after all, if I don't have Coconut Palm, nothing else seems to matter..." She walked out of the living room with him.Susan said, her voice still shaking: "I never imagined a... dame-like murderer. Terrible."