Chapter 13 Chapter 12. Poirot and I Discussing the Case

"Thank God, Poirot," I said enthusiastically, "you keep us from having their raw carrots for supper; what queer women!" "They might get us a good steak - with fried potatoes - and maybe a good bottle of wine. I don't know what we'll get to drink there." "I think we'll just have well water in there," I shudder when I say this, "or some non-alcoholic cider. It's a hell of a place in there! I bet there's a toilet out there in the garden , no bathroom and no sanitation!" "It's strange how women like to live this uncomfortable life," said Poirot thoughtfully. "Although they are very good at saving money to cope with less affluent lives, they are not so poor."

I drove down the curvy back road, turned the last corner, and reappeared on the same avenue toward Markt Basing.At this moment, I asked Poirot: "What do you order my chauffeur to do now? Which one should we visit next? Or shall we go back to the George Inn and ask the old asthmatic waiter?" "Hastings, you will be pleased to hear that we have completed our investigation of Mark Basing..." "great." "But it's only temporary. I'm coming back!" "Still investigating the attempted murder?" "Not bad." "What did you learn from all the gibberish we just heard?"

Poirot said explicitly, "There are a few things to note. In our play, the different characters are beginning to emerge more clearly. It's sort of like an ancient fantasy novel, isn't it? People once looked down on The humble maid-in-waiting, now wealthy, is playing the part of a generous dame." "I imagine such an air of benefactor must greatly irritate those who think themselves the rightful heirs!" "Hastings, what you said is true." We watched the car in silence and drove forward for a few minutes.The car passed through the town of Markt Basing and we sped down the boulevard again.I hummed a little tune softly: "Dwarf, you have been busy all day."

"Are you having a good day, Boluo?" I finally asked. Poirot said icily, "I don't quite understand what you mean by 'happy', Hastings?" I replied, "I see, you're enjoying your car ride to the fullest." "Do you think I'm not serious enough?" "Oh, you're serious enough, but it's an academic job right now. You're dealing with it purely for your own spiritual satisfaction. I mean—you're not doing it practically." "Instead, it's very practical." "I'm very poor at expressing myself. I mean, if the old woman was alive and needed us to help her, to protect her from further persecution - well, it would be interesting. I have to admit that the situation is She's dead, so what are we worrying about?"

"In that case, my friend, one wouldn't have to investigate murders at all!" "No. That's totally different, I mean, in that case, you'd have a murdered corpse. . . . Well, what the hell! I can't tell." "Don't be angry. I know exactly what you mean. You separate a murdered body from a mere death from a disease. For example: if Miss Arundell died suddenly of horrific violence, Instead of dying of long illness—then you won't be indifferent to my efforts to discover the truth, will you?" "Of course, in that case I would not remain indifferent."

"But anyway, wasn't there an attempt to murder her?" "Yes, but they didn't. That makes all the difference." "Who tried to kill her, has the question never interested you?" "Well, it interests me in a way." "The extent to which we can consider this question is limited," said Poirot thoughtfully. "The line..." "That line is just what you deduce from that nail in the corner board!" I interrupted, "and that nail has probably been there for years!" "No, the paint on the nails is fresh."

"Well, I still think it can be explained in various ways." "Tell me one." At the time, I couldn't think of a sufficiently plausible explanation.Taking advantage of my silence, Poirot delivered his statement with a dash of momentum. "Yes, we have a limited scope for thinking about it. The line can only be drawn down the stairs after everyone has gone to bed. So it's only the people who live in the house that we think about, and that's Said, the murderer can only be among these seven people. They are Mr. Tanios, Mrs. Tanios, Theresa Arundell, Charles, Miss Lawson, Ellen's cook."

"Surely you can rank servants out of suspicion." "The servants also received inheritance, my dear. Besides, there may have been other causes of murder—maliciousness—quarrel—fraud—so they cannot be definitively cleared." "I find that very unlikely." "Not likely, I agree. But all possibilities should be considered." "Since this is the case, the murderer should be one of the eight people, not seven." "Why is this so?" I thought I was better than Poirot this time, and I said: "You should include Miss Arundell herself. How come you don't trip the rest of the family by pulling a wire across the stairs?"

Poirot shrugged. "You are talking nonsense, my friend. If Miss Arundell had set this trip-rope, she would have been careful not to trip herself. Remember, it was she who tripped over the stairs." I bowed my head and gave up. Poirot continued in a brooding voice: "The whole sequence of events is fairly clear—stumbling—writing to me—lawyer's visit—but here is a suspicion: Miss Arundell deliberately withheld the letter addressed to me, for fear of sending it. Did she hesitate to send the letter, or did she write it and think she had sent it?" "It's hard for us to know," I said.

"It's not easy to know. We can only imagine. I suppose she mistakenly thought the letter had been sent. She must have been surprised that it hadn't been answered..." At this time, I was considering the problem from another angle. "Do you think spiritualist nonsense has any value?" I asked. "I mean, however absurd Miss Peabody's claims may be, do you think that in a seance, orders were actually given?" , to ask Miss Arundell to amend the will and leave the money to this woman, Lawson?" Poirot shook his head in bewilderment and said: "It doesn't seem to fit Miss Arundell's character, that's not the image she has formed in my mind."

"Well, Miss Tripp, Miss Lawson was taken aback when the will was read," I said thoughtfully. "Yes, she told them that," agreed Poirot. "But you don't believe it?" "My friend—how well you know my suspicious nature! I don't believe what anyone says unless it can be confirmed or corroborated." "Yes, old chap," I said affectionately, "it's all a good, dependable nature." "What 'he said', 'she said', 'they said' - phew! What does that mean? Meaningless! It may be entirely true, or it may be an ulterior fabrication. And I, Poirot, deal only with the facts." "Then what are the facts?" "The fact is that Miss Arundell fell. No one disputes that. It wasn't a natural fall—it was planned." "The proof is what Hercule Poirot said!" "Not at all. For the nails; for the letter Miss Arundell wrote to me; for the dog who was out of the house that night; and for what Miss Arundell said about the pot and the picture on it." And Bob's fall to prove it. All of this is true." "What about the next fact?" "The next fact answers the question we generally ask. Who ultimately benefited from Miss Arundell's death. They would have benefited if Miss Arundell fell to her death in that accident." "Are you saying this is suspicious?" "Not at all. I just noticed it. It may be natural to care for the old woman, so as not to disturb her quiet heart. This is the most appropriate explanation so far." I squinted at Poirot.He is so elusive. "Miss Peabody says there's a ghost in the will," I said. "What do you think she means?" "I think it's her way of saying that she has doubts about something but can't figure out why." "It seems possible to rule out any external influence on Miss Arundell," I said musingly. "Emily Arundell is too clever to believe in anything so stupid as spiritualism." "What makes you say spiritualism is stupidity, Hastings?" I looked at him in amazement and said: "My dear Poirot—those dreadful women we have seen. . . . " He smiled. "I agree with your assessment of the Tripp sisters. The fact that the Tripp sisters are passionate, professing Christian Science, vegetarianism, Theosophy and Spiritualism does not constitute an indictment against these disciplines! Because a foolish woman will tell you a lot of nonsense about gemstones engraved with scarabs, which she bought fakes from a rogue dealer, but that need not make you suspicious of the general discipline of Egyptology!" "I am very modest about the subject. I have never studied her mysterious signs. But it should be admitted that many scientists and scholars have declared that there are indeed some unexplained phenomena-so, we can say that it is credulous Miss Tripp ?" "So, do you believe the nonsense about the halo surrounding Miss Arundell's head?" Poirot waved his hand and said: "I'm speaking in general terms - rather irrational skepticism is to be reprimanded. I may say that I have formed a certain opinion of Miss Tripp and her sister, and I will study very carefully what they have given me. every fact. Stupid women, my friends, are always stupid women, whether they talk about spiritualism or politics, sex or the tenets of the Buddhist faith." "Yet you listened to them very carefully." "Listening is my task today--listening to what everyone tells me about the seven--mainly of course the five implicated. We've learned something about these people." Lawson Ms. Tripp, for example: From Sister Tripp, we learn that she is faithful, selfless, otherworldly, and in general, a perfect human being. From Ms. Peabody, we learn that she is honest, a little goofy, without The guts and resourcefulness of an attempted crime. From Dr. Granger, we learn that she's pissed off, her position is precarious, and she's a poor 'terrified trembling hen', which I think is his Words used. From our waiter, Miss Lawson was a normal 'person'; from Ellen, Bob the puppy despised her! Everyone sees it from a somewhat different angle, you see She. The same with the others. When it comes to Charles Arundell, they all seem to think that he is immoral. But even so, they are somewhat different in their demeanor and attitude to him when they talk about him. Greg Dr. Ranger graciously called him 'a disrespectful little villain.' Miss Peabody said he would have murdered his grandmother for the sake of two disputants. Apparently, she thought of him as a villain, not 'a dork.' '. Miss Tripp hinted that not only would he commit a crime, but he had done it once—or several times. These side-views were valuable and interesting. They led us to the next thing." "What's up?" "We'll see for ourselves, my friend."