Chapter 26 Chapter 25 I Sitting in a Chair and Thinking

Now, I thought, as I walked close behind Poirot, it was certain: Miss Arundell had been murdered, and Theresa knew the details.But is she the murderer, or is there another explanation? She was afraid - yes.But is she afraid for herself or for another?Could that other be the taciturn, calm young doctor? Did the old woman die from purely man-made disease? One thing makes sense—Donaldson's ambition, his belief that Theresa's aunt will inherit a fortune if her aunt dies.He even came to the Little Green House for dinner on the night of the accident.He could easily have concealed a window that night, and then, in the dead of night, pushed it open and pulled the murder string across the stairs before coming back.But how to account for the drive of nails into the corner boards?

It must have been Theresa's doing.Theresa is his fiancée and accomplice.They conspired, and it seemed the whole affair was clear.In that case, it was probably Teresa who pulled the thread into that position.The first time she committed a crime, she didn't succeed. It was her masterpiece.The second crime, successful, this time a masterpiece of Donaldson's science. Yes - it all makes sense. However, there are loopholes.Why did Teresa blurt out about artificially infecting humans with liver disease?As if she didn't realize that saying this would... look that way—I felt that I was getting more and more confused, and I stopped thinking and asked:

"Poirot, where are we going?" "Go back to where I live. Maybe we'll find Mrs. Tanios waiting for us at home." My thoughts turned in a different direction. How about Mrs. Tanios!That's another mystery!If Donaldson and Theresa had committed a crime, what did Mrs. Tanios and her smiling husband have to do with the case?What was the woman going to tell Poirot?Why was Tanios so eager to stop her from speaking? "Poirot," I said humbly, "I'm getting confused. They can't all be involved in the case, can they?" "Are you saying it was a murder by a criminal group? A family crime group? No, not this time. From the signs it was thought up by one person, this one person did it. Psychologically it's very clear. "

"You mean, if it wasn't Teresa, it was Donaldson—rather than both? Could it be that he, under some totally unrelated pretext, made her nail the Where are the nails?" "My dear friend, from the time I heard Miss Lawson's story, I realized that there were three possibilities: 1. Miss Lawson's story was completely true. 2. Miss Lawson made it up for her own reasons. Third, Miss Lawson really believed what she told, but she recognized it by the brooch—and I have already pointed it out to you—that is easily separated from its owner.” "Yes, but Teresa insists the brooch never left her."

"She was absolutely right when she said that. I overlooked a small but hugely important fact." "It's very uncharacteristic of you to say that, Poirot," I said solemnly. "Isn't it like it? But everyone will be negligent." "Is it because of old age?" "Age has nothing to do with negligence," said Poirot coldly. "Okay, so what's the important fact you're ignoring?" I asked as we turned into the apartment entrance. "I'll show you later." We reached the door of Poirot's flat. George opened the door for us.He shook his head and answered Poirot's eager question.

"No, sir. Mrs. Tanios didn't come, didn't call." Poirot entered the drawing room.He paced up and down the room, and after a while he picked up the receiver and called the Tondham Hotel. "Yes—yes, please. Ah, Dr. Tanios, I'm Hercule Poirot. Is your lady back? Oh, no. Good God . . . You said she carried all her luggage Gone...and the baby too...you don't know where she is...yes, yes...oh, great...from my profession, can I be of any use to you What? I have some experience in these things... This kind of thing should be handled with caution... No, of course not... Yes, of course it will be like this... Definitely, definitely. I will respect your request on this matter."

He hung up the receiver and thought for a while. "He doesn't know where she is," he said after a moment's thought. "I think it's true. There's a real sense of anxiety in his voice. It's understandable that he didn't want to go to the police. Yes." Yeah, I understand. He doesn't want my help either. Maybe it's not that easy to understand... He wants to find her - but he doesn't want me to find her... Yeah, he sure doesn't want me to find her... He looks like Be confident, trust yourself to handle this. He doesn't think she'll be hiding for long because she doesn't have much money with her. Plus, she's got a baby. Yes, I think he'll find her soon. But, Black Stings, I think we have to move a little bit faster than him. That's important, I think we have to move a little bit faster."

"Do you think she's really a little crazy?" I asked. "I think she's in a state of overstretched nerves." "But not to the point of going to a madhouse." "It's definitely not there yet." "You know, Poirot, I don't quite understand what's going on." "Forgive me for saying this, Hastings: you don't understand at all." "There seem to be so many -- er -- side issues." "There are side issues, that's natural. A well-organized person's first task is to separate the main problem from the side problems."

"Tell me, Poirot, have you always considered eight persons, rather than seven, to be the objects of suspicion?" Poirot replied icily: "I've been thinking about that fact ever since Theresa Arundell mentioned that she last saw Donaldson at dinner at the Little Green House on April 14th." "I don't understand..." I interrupted him. "What don't you understand?" "Well, if Donaldson plans to get rid of Miss Arundell the scientific way—by inoculating and injecting, then—I don't see why he should resort to such a stupid method as pulling strings on the stairs."

"Eh Verite (French: To be honest.), Hastings, I get really impatient with you sometimes! There is a method that is highly scientific and totally technical. That's what it is, isn't it?" "yes." "And the other way is a very simple one--'the woman figured it out'--as simple as the mother coaxing the baby in the advertisement. Isn't it?" "Yes, indeed." "Well, think about it, Hastings—sit back in your chair, close your eyes, and think about it." I obey.That is to say, I sat back in my chair, with my eyes closed, and tried to follow through on Poirot's third instruction—use my brains, which, however, did not clarify the matter very much.

I opened my eyes and saw Poirot looking at me with the kindness of a nurse's gaze on a child in her care. "Eh bien?" I tried to be like Poirot. "Well," I said, "it seems to me that the man who set the trap in the first place was not the man who murdered scientifically." "Not bad." "I doubt that a scientifically trained, complex mind would have conceived of such a childish scheme to produce that accident—the odds are too small." "Your reasoning is clear." Encouraged, I became bolder and continued: "So it seems like the only logical explanation for this case is -- the two attempted murders were planned by two different people. We're dealing with murders planned by two completely different people." "Don't you think it's too much of a coincidence?" "You said once that there is almost always a coincidence to be found in a murder." "Yes, that's true, I have to admit it." "That's it." "And who do you say is the murderer?" asked Poirot. "Donaldson and Theresa Arundel. The last successful murder obviously required a doctor. On the other hand, we know that Theresa Arundel was involved in the first attempted murder. I think it's possible that they They acted alone. They were not related to each other." "You're so fond of saying: 'We know,' Who are we representing? Hastings. I assure you, no matter how you look at it, I know Theresa has nothing to do with this case." "But Miss Lawson did." "What Miss Lawson says is what Miss Lawson says. That's all." "But she said..." "She said—she said . There is something wrong with what the lady said. Didn't I tell you?" "Tell me, I remember you saying that. But you don't know what's wrong." "Well, now I find out. What a fool I am, I'll show you in a moment, I should have known it then." He went to the desk, opened the drawer, and took out a piece of cardboard, which he cut with a pair of scissors, motioning me not to see what he was doing. "Be patient, Hastings, we'll be experimenting in a moment." I politely turned my eyes away. After a little while Poirot let out an exclamation of satisfaction.He put the scissors aside, threw the scraps of paper into the wastebasket, and walked across the room to me. "Don't look at it yet, I'm going to pin something on your coat lapel, please keep turning your head away." I did as he said.Poirot concluded this part of his work with satisfaction, and then, gently pulling me across the room, he led me into the adjoining bedroom. "Now, Hastings, look at yourself in the mirror. Are you wearing a funky brooch with your initials on it - only, bien entendu (French: of course.), the brooch is not chrome Not of stainless steel, nor of gold or platinum--but of worthless cardboard!" I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled.Poirot had a rare dexterity in his hands.I wear a very similar brooch to Theresa Arundell's - a circle made of cardboard, looking in the mirror, with my initials AH on it. "Eh bien," said Poirot, "are you satisfied? Have you got a very nice brooch with your initials on it?" "It's the most beautiful thing," I agreed. "Although it does not shine or reflect light, you will also admit that you can clearly see the brooch in the mirror from a distance?" "I don't doubt that." "True. Doubt is not your characteristic. Simple credulity is more. Now, Hastings, take off your coat." I felt a little weird, but did it anyway.Poirot took off his coat and put on mine, turning away a little as he did so. "Now," he said, "you look at the brooch instead of the mirror—the brooch with your initials on it—how it's mine." He suddenly swayed around a few times.I stared at him - I didn't understand it then.Then it dawned on me! "What a fool I am! You see, the letters on the brooch are HA and not AH at all." As Poirot put his clothes back on and handed me my coat, he smiled and said: "You see now that I found out where Miss Lawson was wrong. She said she clearly saw Theresa's initials on one of Theresa's other brooches. But she did it from the mirror. Seeing Theresa's. So if she does see her initials in the mirror, she sees them upside down." "Well," I argued, "perhaps she saw her initials in the mirror and knew they were upside down." "My dear friend, is it only now that you have thought of it? Had you thought of it earlier, you would have exclaimed, 'Hey! Poirot, you have made a mistake. The letter on the brooch is HA, really—not AH. ' But you didn't bark. And if you ask me, you're much smarter than Miss Lawson. You think Lawson, a clumsy woman who wakes up in the middle of the night, sleepy and dazed, can make out Was the letter AT in the mirror really TA? No, she couldn't make it out. That would be totally out of character with Miss Lawson's intellect." "She insisted it was Teresa," I said slowly. "You are getting nearer to the point, my friend. You remember, I hinted at her that she hadn't seen the man's face on the stairs, and she immediately—what did she say?" "I remember her pulling on Theresa's brooch - she forgot the fact that she provided what she saw in the mirror, which revealed that she was telling a lie." The phone rang quickly.Poirot went to answer the phone. "Who? Yes. . . of course. All right, I'm handy. I think afternoon. Well, two o'clock, great." He put the phone back where it was, turned his head to me with a smile, and said: "Dr. Donaldson is anxious to speak to me. He will be here at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon. We are making progress on our case, mon ami, we are making progress!"