Chapter 23 Section 23

At 10:30 the next morning, Fournier, with a worried expression, came to Poirot's living room and shook hands with the little Belgian enthusiastically. "I want to tell you what I think." "Oh!" Poirot's face lit up. "You said that day in London, why didn't the murderer stuff the weapon out of the vent? I found the answer: we found the blowpipe easily, because that's what the murderer wanted." "Excellent!" said Poirot. "I further asked myself: Why did the murderer do this? My answer is that the blowpipe was never used at all."

"Great, great! That's my reasoning too." "I thought the murder weapon was just a poisonous needle, and the murderer fired it with something else. I remember you insisting on an inventory of the passengers' possessions, and two things caught my attention—Ms. Hobre had two cigarettes. boxes; there are some Kurdish bamboo pipes on the DuPonts' desk." Poirot looked at him quietly, and then said: "Your thinking is correct, but a little biased. Don't forget the wasp—" At this moment the phone rang, and he took the receiver: "Hello. Yes, yes I, Hercule Poirot..., am I Monsieur Alexander?...Mr. Fournier...yes...yes, he has just arrived." He turned to Fournier and said in a low voice: "He is going to the Paris police station Been looking for you. He's excited to come see you."

Fournier answered the phone: "Hi, hello....I'm Fournier...what?...what? Okay, okay, we'll go right away." He put down the receiver and faced Poirot, "Yes Giselle's daughter, she has come to claim the inheritance." "Where is she from?" "America, probably. Alexander told her to come at 11:30, and told us to meet him right away." "Here we go. The man I've been waiting for has finally shown up, and answers are coming soon." Mr. Alexander received them happily, and after greeting each other, he turned to the topic: "I received a letter yesterday from Miss Morisot, now Miss Richards, requesting a visit this morning. She is married, exactly twenty-four, and has brought her identity papers." He opened the papers on his desk. The file folder contained the marriage certificate of Georges Lehman and Marie Morisot, registered in Quebec in 1910, and Morisot Lehmann's birth certificate and other materials.Mr. Alexander put down the material and said: "As far as I know, when Morisot met Lehmann, she was a kindergarten teacher and also sewed clothes for the children. Her husband treated her badly, and they divorced, and she recovered. Her maiden name. A child was taken in by the Marie Orphanage in Quebec, where she grew up. Marie Morisot soon left Canada for France with a man. After that, Marie, the then Mrs. Lehman, regularly gave to Canada The child sent money until she was 21."

"How did the girl know that she was the heir?" "We registered advertisements in a number of publications, and the superintendent of Mary's Orphanage found one of them one day, and she sent a telegram to Mrs. Richards, who was in Europe and was going back to America." "Who is Richards?" "As far as I can deduce, he is American or Canadian, and a manufacturer of surgical instruments by profession." "He didn't go to Europe with his wife?" "No. He's still in America." "Did Mrs. Richards provide no information of value concerning her mother's death?"

Lawyer Alexander shook his head, "She doesn't know anything about her. If the dean didn't mention it, she almost forgot her mother's maiden name." "It appears," Fournier said, "that her presence is not of much help to us. According to my inference, the investigation should focus on three individuals." "Four," said Poirot. "4?" "According to your thinking, it should be four. Two cigarette cases, Kurdish bamboo pipes, and a flute." Fournier was excited when the door opened and an elderly operator said, "The lady is back."

"Well," said Alexander, "... come in, Madame. Let me introduce you. Inspector Fournier of the Paris Police, Monsieur Hercule Poirot, a famous private detective. They are investigating your mother's murder." case." Mrs. Richards is chic and chic, with energetic eyes.She held out her hand and said something grateful. "I was used to living a lonely life. I didn't feel comfortable becoming the daughter of a rich mother overnight." She is especially grateful to the director of the orphanage. "When did you leave the orphanage?" "At 18, sir. I started to earn my own living. I worked as a finger repairer and a garment maker. Then I met my husband in Nice, and we got married in Rotterdam. But he had to go back to Canada, and we separated for a while, Now I'm going to reunite with him." Anne Morisot spoke French fluently.

"How did you hear the sad news?" "From what I read in the papers, I had no idea that the victim was my mother. The dean sent me a telegram telling me to come to Mr. Mate Alexander." Fournier nodded, it seemed that her words were of little value.Mrs. Richards left the address of her hotel and left. "Then according to your line of thinking," Fournier said, "you suspect she's a liar?" "No, I don't doubt it. Her evidence is all genuine. It's strange that I think I've seen her somewhere." "Like the deceased?" "No, no. I don't remember," said Poirot, "but one thing is certain, the girl was the greatest beneficiary of Madame Giselle's murder. As to who is Madame Giselle's daughter, I am sure." I once imagined that there were 3 people. Miss Venetia Kerr was born in a famous family, what about the other two? Giselle's servant Elise once said that the father of Mrs. Giselle's child was an Englishman, and these two people should be with Giselle Mrs. Hall is about as old as Mrs. Hobley. Mrs. Hobrey was a choir singer, and her family origins are not clear. Miss Gray once told me that she, too, was brought up in an orphanage."

"Ha-ha!" said the French inspector, "is that your idea?" They came together to the hotel where Poirot was staying, and Fournier thanked Poirot for reminding him of the flute, but he did not doubt that the owner of the flute, Dr. Bryant, was the murderer.Poirot stopped at the counter. He recognized someone, and Fournier stepped aside. "Doctor Bryant," said Poirot. "Mr. Poirot." They shook hands, and a woman standing behind Bryant walked quickly toward the elevator.This did not escape Poirot's attention. "Can your patient do without your care?"

"I don't have any patients now," he said. "I'm retired." "Sudden decision?" "A necessary decision. Everyone's life has its turning point. I love my profession very much, but I regret that I have to give it up, because what I need is the common pursuit of human beings-happiness." He saw that Poirot did not He continued: "I fell in love with one of my patients deeply. Her husband caused her endless pain due to drug use. She had no money of her own and had to rely on him. I hesitated for a long time, but finally I have made up my mind. We intend to go to Kenya to start a new life. She has suffered too much, and I hope to give her happiness. M. Poirot, I tell you this because you will know sooner or later."

"I understand you," said Poirot. "I saw you still had the flute." Poirot saw him touching the flute lovingly. "I congratulate you on your future." He watched Dr. Bryant go.Poirot beckoned Fournier over, and they made a long-distance call to Quebec at the information desk.