Chapter 9 Chapter Nine From One to Ten

I will never forget what happened when I got back to the hotel late that night. I was secretly amazed at the way Poirot showed his grief and resentment at his mistake.He was striding about the room, cursing himself in all the English and French curses he knew, deaf to my reassurances. "That's the good thing about being too selfish. I'm punished, yes, I'm punished—I, Hercule Poirot! I'm so self-righteous." "No, don't say that." I wanted to comfort him. "But who would have thought, who would have thought, that guy would have such guts? I thought my precautions were very thorough, and I thought it was safe, and I even warned that criminal—"

"Warned the criminal?" "Yes. I showed up everywhere, and I also showed that I already had doubts. I think that now he dare not think of killing again, because the danger is so great that all gangsters dare not act rashly. I am around Miss. He set up an invisible cordon, but he took it for a joke! How brave and how accurate is his calculation—killing people right under our noses? Even though we were on guard, the criminals still succeeded!" "But he didn't get there," I reminded him. "Just a fluke. It's all the same to me. A man's life was taken, Hastings. Whose life, you say, is worthless?"

"Of course, that's not what I meant." "But on the other hand, what you say is also true. But it's only worse, ten times worse! Because the murderer will never stop here, which means that instead of one life, two lives will be sacrificed." .” "As long as you're here, there won't be two!" I said very confidently. He stopped and squeezed my hand tightly. "Thank you, my friend, for having faith in an old friend! You have given me new courage. Hercule Poirot will never fail again. No one will die. I will correct My mistake, for there must be something wrong. There seems to be a missing link in my usually infallible chain of thinking. I'm going to start over, yes, from scratch. This time— — I will not fail!"

"Do you still think Nick's life is at stake?" "My friend, that's why I sent her to the sanatorium." "So, it's not because I was stimulated..." "Stimulus! Ha! One doesn't need to be sent to a sanatorium to recover from a thrill, one can recover at home. You know that a sanatorium is not an enviable thing. The floor is covered with Green linoleum, nurses gossiping about your meals, and whining about the endless laundry. Ah, sending Nick there for safety, and her safety alone. The doctor granted my request, Everything will be arranged. No one, my friend, not even her closest relatives will be given permission to visit Miss Barkley. Only you and I will have this right, others will be informed of this It's the doctor's order, it's a very suitable excuse, and no one will protest."

"Yeah," I said, "it's just—" "But what, Hastings?" "It just can't go on like this forever." "True. But at least we can breathe a bit. You must be aware that our main mission has changed?" "What has become?" "In the past, our main task was to protect Nick. Now it is much simpler, and it has become a task that you and I are very familiar with, which is to catch the murderer." "You call that 'much simpler'?" "Of course it's easy. I said once that a murderer is giving his name when he commits a crime. Now the guy has committed a crime."

"You think," I said, hesitantly, "that the officer is wrong? He says it was done by a madman, a murderous deranged." "Now I'm even more convinced that's not the case." "Do you think……" Poirot followed my words and went on gravely: "The murderer was someone in Nick's circle. Yes, my friend, I think so." "But just now, oh, last night now, that possibility didn't exist. We're all in this together, and—" He interrupted me and said: "Can you swear that not a single one of us has ever left our group at the cliff? Can you swear that you know the position and behavior of each one from beginning to end?"

I was moved by his words, and said slowly: "No, I'm not sure about that. It's dark and everyone's moving more or less. I've seen Mrs. Rice, Lazarus, you, Croft, Wes, but not Always visible." Poirot nodded. "Exactly. The murder was only a matter of minutes. The two girls went into the house. The killer slipped away and hid behind the fig tree in the middle of the lawn. Nick Buckley--of course he was wrong-- Coming out of the house, walking past that tree he shot three times—” "Three shots?" I called out. "Yes, he couldn't see clearly, and he was afraid that he might not be able to shoot. We found three wounds on the body."

"It's too risky, isn't it?" "It's no more risky than firing a gun. The Mauser pistol doesn't make much noise, it's like the crackle of fireworks, so it blends into the sound of the fireworks at once." "Did you find that pistol?" I asked. "No, Hastings. But I think there are good reasons to think that no outsider is involved in this case. We agree on that, that Nick's pistol was stolen only to make it look like suicide after killing Nick. " "yes." "It can only be like this. But how can you pretend to be a suicide now? The murderer knows that he can't deceive people by doing this. In fact, he knows everything we have. So, there is no way to hide the murder weapon." What's the point?"

I thought about it, and felt that his reasoning made sense. "And what do you think he'll do with that pistol?" Poirot shrugged his shoulders and said: "It's hard to say. But the sea is close at hand. If you wave your hand, wouldn't the pistol disappear? Of course not, but if I were that guy, I would deal with it like this." He spoke with such certainty that it was as if he had seen it with his own eyes.I couldn't help but startled. "Do you think he realized right away that he had killed the wrong man?" "He certainly didn't notice it then," said Poirot gloomily. "Well, he's going to have a rather unpleasant blackout for a while after he finds out. It takes a bit of genius to conceal his disappointment and pretend nothing happened." .”

At this time, I remembered the abnormal behavior of the maid Ellen, and told Poirot.He was very interested. "It was Maggie who surprised her, didn't she?" "It's more than an accident, it can be said to be shocked." "That's strange. The murder itself didn't surprise her, it was Maggie who died! Oh, that's well worth investigating. Who was she, this Ellen? She was so serene, from head to toe With respectable English feet, could it be her?" He stopped talking. "If you look back at the previous events," I said, "you'll see that the murderer was a man. It took some strength to loosen that rock and push it off the cliff."

"Not so much. Anyone can do it with the right lever. Well, that's not a reason." He continued to wander slowly around the room. "Everyone at Cliff House last night was suspected, but those later guests—no, I don't think it was any of them. Most of them were only casual acquaintances with Nick. That is to say, There is no close relationship with the hostess of the Cliff Villa." "There's Charles Weiss among them." I pointed this out to him. "Yes, he must not be forgotten. Logically, he is the most suspicious person." Poirot made a gesture of despair, and sank down on a sofa opposite me. "That is to say—we always come back to this in the final analysis: the motive! If we want to uncover this mysterious murder, we must first clarify the motive of the murder. However, it is at this critical point that the black Stings, I am at a loss as to what to do. Who would have had a motive for killing Nick? I have made all sorts of absurd assumptions in order to explain the motive. I, Hercule Poirot, should go from bad to worse to such an extent. to the point where he was cranking his brains out like a dime detective. I think that grandfather—old Nick—was supposed to have gambled all his money, but had he? Was it the other way around, that he Is the money hidden somewhere in the Cliff House? Buried in the ground, say? It was because of that assumption—it’s so embarrassing to say—that I asked Nick if anyone had proposed buying her Cliff House.” "You know, Poirot?" I said, "I think your assumption is reasonable. Well, quite a bit." Poirot snorted. "I knew you'd say that, the premise is very romantic to you, oh, buried treasure—yes, you must appreciate the premise." "What's wrong with that assumption?" "Because, my friends, we do not live in the world of 'The Arabian Nights.' In reality, the most dry explanations are often the closest to the truth. I also think of the lady's father--of whom I imagine What's worse. He's a traveler, I said to myself, and maybe he's stolen a priceless gem, which is the eye of some god. So the monk who guards the statue has tracked it down here. Look, I, Hercule Poirot, is about to become a legendary novelist. "I've had another whim about her father, a more serious one. Has he wandered about and married again? Has he had a nearer heir than Charles Weiss? So I Hitting up our old dilemma again - nothing is really worth inheriting. "I've considered every conceivable possibility. I've even considered why Mr. Lazarus would want to buy a portrait of Nick's grandfather. Estimate. Didn't I ask you to send a note to Miss Nick yesterday morning about the man? Suppose, say, that the picture would not be worth several thousand pounds?" "Do you think a rich man like Lazarus..." "Is he rich? Appearance doesn't tell the story. An old-fashioned company looks resplendent in the store, with rich financial resources on the books, which is enviable, but inside it may already be living beyond its means, and its debts are high. What will people do at this time?" Are you going to go around complaining about being poor and saying that you are going to be broke? No, in such a bad situation, people will buy an extremely luxurious car and pretend to spend more money in public. You see, It's just to maintain credit so that you can borrow money from other people. Sometimes a company that looks like a lot of money will suddenly collapse, because the turnover is not good, and it will be short of thousands of pounds in cash for a while." "Oh, I know," he continued to quote and talk without letting me refute. "It may be a bit of a stretch, but it's closer to the truth than vengeful monks or buried treasure. In any case, when something happens, there is always a relationship between the various factors. We Don't ignore any signpost that might lead us to the truth." He carefully arranged the things on the table in front of him neatly one by one.When he spoke again, his tone was serious, and he seemed quite calm. "Motives!" he said. "Let us return to the subject. Let us examine the subject calmly and methodically. First, what are the motives for murder? What makes a man want to kill someone else?" What about a person? Here we leave aside the madman who has a homicide habit, because I think that in our case there is no such possibility at all. We also rule out the possibility of killing on the spur of the moment. The people of Iron Stone did it after much deliberation. What possible motives could have been for such a murder?" "First, profit. Who benefits, directly or indirectly, from Nick's death? Well, we can look at Charles Weiss. From an economic point of view, he will inherit a fortune that is not worth inheriting. He It is possible to pay off the mortgage and build a few cottages on the site for a small profit. If the site was his ancestral home, it would be more valuable to him for sentimental reasons. Some people are born with There is a natural attachment to the country, to the ancestral home. That may lead to criminal behaviour. But in Charles Weiss I see no such motive. "Another person who benefited from Nick's death was her friend Mrs. Rice. But a little money is nothing. I don't really see anyone else who would benefit from Nick's death but those two." And get economic benefits. "What was the next motive? Hate—or love turned to hate, criminal lust. Mrs. Croft told us that both Charles Weiss and Colonel Challenger were in love with this young lady." I smiled and said: "The second gentleman's love for Nick is obvious to all of us." "Yes, this honest sailor has no secrets about his feelings. As for Weiss' selfishness towards Nick, let's take Mrs. Croft's word for it. Now let's think about it. If Charles Weiss realizes that the love competition Among them, he is at a disadvantage, does he think that instead of making the girl he loves the wife of his rival, it is better to simply kill her, and no one can get her? Does he have this kind of courage? " "Too dramatic," I said suspiciously. "You'd think that sort of thing sounds exotic, I agree. But the English have passions too! A man like Charles Weiss is just that. He's a young man with hidden emotions, the kind of guy who uses A frosty mask to cover up the stormy emotions. Since this emotion is firmly locked in the deepest part of the heart, once it explodes, it can do anything. I don't think that Lieutenant Colonel Challenger is a murderer. But Charles Weiss has this possibility. But to explain the motive in this way, I always feel that it is a bit of a slapstick. "There is another kind of motivation, which is jealousy. I distinguish jealousy from the motivation mentioned above because I consider that jealousy is not necessarily an emotion between the opposite sex. It may be a kind of envy, for wealth, for power It is this envy that made your great Shakespeare's Iago—from a professional point of view—convict with the utmost skill." "How clever is the law?" My interest was raised. "Don't do it yourself, let someone else do it for him. Today, although a bad guy is the source of evil, as long as he doesn't do it, you can't put handcuffs on his wrist. But this is not what we are talking about now. Is it possible, then, that our case is in any way motivated by jealousy? Who has any reason to be jealous of this lady? If it was another woman, it was only Mrs. Rice. But as far as we know We know that there is no quarrel between her and Nick. Of course, this inference is only based on this (as far as we know). There may be other situations that we don't know. "Finally, there is a motive, fear. Did someone have a clue in Miss Nick's hands? Did she know of a threat to another person's life? If so, we can point out with certainty that, She herself didn't realize that she already knew a fact that could kill someone. It's possible, you know? It's possible. It would be troublesome if it were. Because she was unconsciously holds the clue, so she can't tell us what it is." "You really think it's possible?" "It's just a hypothesis. When you've ruled out all other possibilities and still can't find a reason for your motivation, you can only go back to the remaining possibilities—since there's nothing else, it must be this." ..." He was silent for a long time.Later, he woke up from deep thought, took a piece of paper, put it in front of him, and started to write. "What are you writing?" I asked curiously. "My friend, I'm going to make a list of people around Nick. If I'm right, the murderer must be on the list." He wrote for about twenty minutes, then pushed the paper in front of me. "That's it, my friend. That's the list we've got." The table looks like this: 1. Ellen 2. Her gardener husband 3. Their children 4. Mr. Croft 5. Mrs. Croft 6. Mrs. Rice 7. Mr. Lazarus 8. Lieutenant Colonel Challenger 9. Charles Weiss ten,? Comments: 1. Ellen Suspiciousness: It is most convenient to create an accident when you hear the behavior and words when murdering.Easiest to know where the pistol is, but it doesn't look like he was responsible for the vandalism.Moreover, the carefulness and courage of committing crimes are beyond the reach of this person. Motivation: None.Unless there is hatred caused by events that are not yet known. Note: Further find out his life experience and relationship with Nick. 2. Husband of Ellen Suspicious points and motives are the same as above.But it may damage the brake device of the car. Note: Talk to one. 3. Son of Ellen This person is still young and can be ruled out. NOTE: Should be talked to for new leads. 4. Mr. Croft There is only one doubtful point, that is, the second floor is Miss Nick's bedroom, and whether his explanation of going upstairs when he met us is true.And know nothing about this person's life experience. Motivation: None. 5. Mrs. Croft Suspicious: None. Motivation: None. 6. Mrs. Rice Suspiciousness: Nick entered the house to get clothes at the request of this person.Want to create the impression that Nick is a master of lies.Therefore, her statement about the accidents that happened before is not credible.The man was not in Tavistock at the time of those incidents and his whereabouts are unknown. Motivation: income?little.jealous?Possibly, but can't tell.fear?Possibly, but also impossible to explain. Note: It may be enlightening to exchange views with Nick on the above points.Was the motive connected with Mrs. Rice's marriage? 7. Mr. Lazarus Suspicious: There is a chance of crime.Bid on paintings.It is believed that Nick's car was undamaged (Mrs. Rice's words), and may have been nearby during the accident. Motivation: None.Unless you are eager to paint.fear?not like. NOTE: Find out where this person was before arriving in Saint-Loup.Ascertain the financial situation of the Lazarus and Sons. 8. Lieutenant Colonel Challenger Suspicious: None.But it was here a lot last week.There is a good chance of causing an accident.However, this person arrived at the Cliff Villa half an hour after the murder. Motivation: None 9. Charles Weiss Suspicious: Nick was not in the office when he was shot in the hotel garden.There is a chance to commit crimes.There are dubious claims about the sale of the Cliff House.Department of an introverted youth.Possibly where Sidney Ke's pistol had been. Motivation: income?very little.Love or hate?possible.fear?Won't. Note: Find out who the cliff villa is mortgaged to.Find out what happened to Weiss Law Firm. ten,? This person may be an outsider, but related to one of the first nine people.For example: It may be related to the first, fourth, fifth, and sixth.The existence of this person can provide an explanation for one of the following: 1. Why is Ellen not surprised by the murder itself (but women of this class have always had an instinctive excitement about the murder). 2. Why did the Crofts rent the remote concierge cottage. 3. Provide reasons for Mrs. Rice's fear or jealousy. Poirot watched me as I looked at the list. "Pretty good English, isn't it?" he boasted. "I write more English than I speak." "Very well," I said enthusiastically, "you've laid out all the possibilities." "Yes," he said thoughtfully, taking the paper back, "look at the name, my friend. This Charles Weiss, he has the best chance of committing the crime. There are two possible motives in him. Choice. I believe that if this were a list of horses at the races, the best bets would be placed on him." "Of course he is the most suspicious." "You have a queer temper, Hastings, and a predisposition to suspect the least suspicious things. No doubt you have read too many detective novels. In real life, crimes happen nine times out of ten." The ones with the most obvious motives and the greatest possibilities." "Is it the same this time?" "There is only one fact that is not true, and that is the audacity of the crime! It was so at the beginning. It is also because of this feature that I predict that the motive of this case will not be obvious." "Yes, that's what you said at the beginning." "I still say that now." Suddenly he crumpled up the list and threw it on the ground.I quickly stopped him, but he said: "No, this thing is useless. It just sorts out my thoughts. Getting the facts straight and to the point is the first step. The next step—" "what is it then?" "The next step is analytical thinking, which is the proper use of those little gray cells of the brain. I advise you, Hastings, to go to sleep." "No," I said, "I won't leave you unless you go to bed too." "It's a very touching devotion. But you see, Hastings, you can't help me think. Think—that's what I'm going to do next." I still shook my head. "It might occur to you to discuss your point of view with me." "Ah, ah, you are quite a friend. But at least please change to a sofa where you can sit more comfortably." I agreed.Before long, everything in the room began to blur.The last thing I remember seeing Poirot carefully pick up from the floor the wad of paper he had just thrown away, and throw it into the wastebasket. Then I fell asleep.