Chapter 11 Chapter Eleven in Plaintiff's Favor

The trial of John Cavendish for the murder of his stepmother came two months later. I have little to say about the circumstances of these weeks, but I am full of sincere admiration and sympathy for Mary Cavendish.She passionately sided with her husband, rejected all thoughts of his guilt, and fought for him with all her might. I told Poirot of my compliment, and he nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, she is one of those women who bring out their best virtues in adversity, when they are most tender and sincere. Her pride and jealousy have been—" "Jealous?" I asked. "Yes. Don't you realize that she was a very jealous woman? Her pride and jealousy have been put aside as I speak now. Apart from her husband, and the terrible fate that threatened him, She doesn't think about anything."

He spoke with great emotion, and I watched him earnestly, thinking of that last afternoon when he was deliberating whether to speak or not to speak.With his "one woman's happiness" tenderness, I am glad that this decision was made by him. "Even now," I said, "I can hardly believe it. You know, I thought it was Lawrence until the last moment!" Poirot grinned. "I know what you're thinking." "It turned out to be John! My old friend John!" "Every murderer may be someone's old friend," said Poirot philosophically. "You can't confuse emotion with reason."

"I gotta say I think you could have given me a little hint." "Perhaps, my friend, I don't do it precisely because he is an old friend of yours." This embarrassed me a little, and I remembered how I had hurriedly told John what I thought was Poirot's opinion of Bauerstein.Incidentally, he has been acquitted of the charges against him.However, although this time, because of his great cunning about it, the charges of espionage against him were not proven, and his activities were greatly limited. I asked Poirot if he thought John would be convicted.To my great surprise, he replied that, on the contrary, he was very likely to be acquitted.

"But, Poirot—" I disagreed. "Oh, my friend, I have never told you that I have no proof. It is one thing to know that a man has committed a crime, and quite another to prove that he has committed it. If so, the evidence is very, very little. Yes. That is the whole difficulty. I, Hercar Poirot, know it, but in my chain the last link is missing. Unless I can find the missing link—” He said heavily Shake your head. "When did you start to suspect John Cavendish?" I asked after a while. "You don't suspect him at all?" "Really do not have."

"Not after you overheard that snippet of conversation between Mrs. Cavendish and her mother-in-law, and saw her lack of candor in her subsequent interrogation?" "yes." "You don't put two and two together, but you should consider that if it hadn't been Alfred Inglethorp who had quarreled with Mrs. Inglethorp that afternoon—you always remember that he tried to Deny it - it must have been Lawrence or John. If it was Lawrence, Mary Cavendish's behavior would be inexplicable. But if it was John, the whole thing would explain itself perfectly naturally .” "So," cried I, suddenly realizing, "it was John who quarreled with Mrs. Inglethorp that afternoon?"

"Not bad." "You knew about this all along?" "Of course. Mrs. Cavendish's behavior can only be explained in that way." "But you say he might be acquitted?" Poirot shrugged his shoulders. "That's what I said. In the police court proceedings we will hear a case in favor of the plaintiff, but it is entirely possible that his lawyers will advise him to reserve the right of defense. And when the trial comes, it will make us Astonished. And—oh, by the way, I have a word of warning for you, my friend. I don't have to be present in such a case."

"what?" "Yes. Officially, I have nothing to do with it. I must stay in the background until I find the last link in my chain. Mrs. Cavendish must have thought that I was running for her husband, and Not messing with him." "Hey, I think this is a bit of a trick." I disagree. "Not at all. We have to deal with a man of the utmost cunning and shamelessness, so we must do everything we can to keep him in check - otherwise he will slip through our fingers. That's why I stay cautiously Behind the scenes. All the discoveries were made by Japp, so Japp will get all the credit. If I were called to testify"—he laughed generously—"it would be possible to be a witness in favor of the accused. gone."

I couldn't believe my ears. "It's all by the book," continued Poirot. "Strangely enough, I can present evidence to defeat one of the plaintiff's arguments." "which one?" "The argument about breaking a will. John Cavendish didn't break that will." Poirot was a true prophet.I do not want to go into the details of the police court proceedings, which involve many tiresome retellings.I'm just going to set him straight on one point: John Cavendish retained his right of defense and was formally committed to trial. In September we all went to London.Mary rented a house in Kensington, and the family party included Poirot.

I myself have been assigned to the War Department and have been able to see them often. As the weeks passed, Poirot's mental attitude grew worse and worse.The "last link" he spoke of is still missing.I secretly hoped that perhaps it was better to put it that way, for what happiness could there be for Mary if John were to be found guilty? On September 15th, John Cavendish appeared in London Central Criminal Court for the "deliberate murder of Emily Agnes Inglethorp" and "dissatisfied". Sir Ernest Helvetia, eminent counsel to the Crown, was hired to defend him.

Mr. Phillips initiated the prosecution on behalf of the Royal Government. He said that this was a well-premeditated and extremely brutal murder.It fully confirms that a kind and gullible woman was deliberately poisoned by her first-in-law son, and she treated him better than a real mother.She has raised him since his childhood.To this day, he and his wife are still under her meticulous love and care, living a life of luxury at Styles Manor.She was their charitable, generous benefactor. He proposed that witnesses be called to testify how the defendant—a swinger—was financially desperate, yet he continued to have an affair with a neighboring farmer's wife named Mrs. Rex.The news reached his stepmother, who reproached him for it on the afternoon of the day she was murdered, and a quarrel ensued, part of which was overheard.The day before, the defendant had gone to the village pharmacy to buy strychnine, and he had disguised himself in an attempt to lay the blame on another person, Mrs. Inglethorp's husband, of whom the defendant was extremely jealous. .Fortunately Mr. Inglethorp was able to produce irreproachable evidence of his alibi.

The prosecutor went on to say that on the afternoon of July 16, after a quarrel with her son, Mrs. Inglethorp immediately made a new will, which was found destroyed the next morning in her bedroom fireplace , but the evidence was revealed that it stood in favor of her husband.In fact, before the marriage, the deceased had made a will in his husband's favor, but—and Mr. Phillips shook an expressive forefinger at this moment—the accused knew nothing of it.The old will still exists today.What caused the deceased to make a new one, he could not say.She was an elderly lady, and it was possible that she had forgotten her former share; or—this seemed more reliable to him—she might have had an idea that married The will is void, for something has been said on the subject.Ladies are not always well versed in the law.About a year ago, she had signed a will in favor of the defendant.He would also send witnesses proving that it was the accused who had finally passed the coffee to Mrs. Inglethorp on that unfortunate evening.He had been admitted to her room that night, and it was then, no doubt, that he found an opportunity of burning the will, which, so far as he knew, would make Mr. Inglethorp's favor legal. change. The accused was arrested because Detective Inspector Japp--a very skilful policeman--discovered in his room a phial of strychnine which had been sold by the village drugstore the day before the crime. Mr Inglethorp's one.The jury will determine whether the facts leading to the conviction constitute sufficient evidence to convict the accused. Mr Phillips sat down and wiped his forehead after tactfully suggesting that the jury would be inconceivable not to reach such a decision. The lead witnesses for the plaintiffs were mostly those who had been interrogated at the autopsy, and in addition, for the first time, an autopsy report was presented. Sir Ernest Helvetia - famous throughout England for his threatening treatment of witnesses - asked only two questions. "I suppose, Dr. Bauerstein, that strychnine works very quickly as an anesthetic?" "yes." "And you cannot tell the reason for the delay in this case?" "yes." "thanks." Mr. Mays recognized the phial which the prosecutor's office had given him as the one which he had sold to "Mr. Inglethorp."Prompted, he admitted that he knew Mr. Inglethorp only face to face, and had never spoken to him.This witness was not further cross-examined. Alfred Inglethorp was arraigned, and he vehemently denied having bought poison.He also denied having had an argument with his wife.These statements were corroborated by several witnesses. The Gardener's testimony, describing the circumstances surrounding the cosignation of the will, was next arraigned to Dorcas. Dorcas, faithful to her "master," strenuously denied that it was John's voice she had heard, and insisted desperately that it was Mr. Inglethorp who had quarreled with his mistress in the boudoir.A wry smile crossed the face of the defendant who was being interrogated.He knew very well how futile her valiant defiance was, since denying it was not the point of the defense.Mrs. Cavendish certainly could not have been called to testify against her husband. After a few questions on other circumstances, Mr. Phillips asked: "At the end of June this year, do you remember that Parkson's sent a package to Mr. Laurence Cavendish?" Dorcas shook his head. "I don't remember, sir. It may have been, but Mr. Laurence was away for a while in June." "What if there's a package for him and he's not at home?" "It can be placed in his room or transferred to him." "Is this up to you?" "No, sir, I just put it on the hall table. Miss Howard takes care of things like that." Evelyn Howard was summoned to court.After asking her a few other questions, I asked her about the package. "I don't remember. There are a lot of packages. I can't remember them all." "Do you remember whether you passed this parcel on to Mr. Lawrence when he went to Wales, or did you leave it in his room?" "I can't remember transferring the package. If there is, I should remember." "Suppose a parcel was sent to Mr. Laurence Cavendish, and it disappeared. You should find it missing?" "No, I don't think so. I'd think someone kept it." "I believe, Miss Howard, that you found the wrapping paper?" He held up the dusty paper which Poirot and I had examined in the drawing-room at Styles.Show her a look. "Yes, it's me." "How did you find this piece of paper?" "The Belgian detective hired on the case asked me to." "Where did you find it at last?" "On top of the—of—the closet." "On top of the defendant's wardrobe?" "I—I believe so." "Didn't you find it yourself?" "No." "Then you should know where you found it?" "Yes, on the defendant's wardrobe." "That's good." A clerk at Parkson's Theatrical Costumes testified that on June 29th they supplied Mr. L. Cavendish with a large lock of black beard on request.It was ordered by letter with a money order enclosed.No, they didn't keep the letter.All transactions are recorded in the book.According to the address specified in the letter, they have sent Hu Yujing to "Stiles Manor, Mr. L. Cavendish." Sir Ernest Highwaysa rose heavily. "Where did this letter come from?" "From Styles." "Your packages were sent to the same address?" "yes." "Where did the letter come from?" "yes." Haiwei Weisa rushed towards him like a beast. "how do you know?" "I—I don't understand." "How do you know it's from Styles? Did you see the postmark?" "No—but—" "Oh, you didn't see the postmark! And yet you're so confident that the letter is from Styles, when in fact it might have been stamped somewhere else?" "yes." "This letter, although it is written on a letter-addressed paper, may in fact have been posted from somewhere else? From Wales, for example?" The witness admitted that this might be the case, and Ernes waited for Sir to express his satisfaction. Elizabeth Wells, a rough maid at Styles, stated that she had gone to bed that night and remembered afterwards that she had bolted the gate instead of just closing it, as Mr. Inglethorp had requested. snap lock.So she went downstairs again to correct her mistake.At this moment she heard a slight noise in the room to the right, and peeping furtively into the passage, she saw Mr John Cavendish knocking at Mrs Inglethorp's door. Lord Ernest Helvetia quickly resolved her problem, and under his relentless pressure she contradicted herself desperately, and Lord Ernest returned to the room with a satisfied smile on his face. sat down. Anne's testimony recounted candle grease on the floor and seeing the defendant deliver coffee into the boudoir. The trial was adjourned here and is scheduled to continue the next day. As soon as we got home, Mary yelled at the prosecutor. "The wretched man! What a net he has set up for my poor John! He twists every little thing beyond recognition!" "Oh," I reassured, "it will be different by tomorrow." "Yes," she said thoughtfully; then she dropped her voice suddenly. "Mr. Hastings, you don't think--this must not be Lawrence--oh no, it can't be!" But I was puzzled myself, and whenever I was alone with Poirot I asked him what he thought Sir Ernest meant. "Hi!" said Poirot appreciatively. "He's a clever fellow, that Sir Ernest." "Do you think he believed Lawrence had committed the crime?" "I don't think he believes or pays particular attention to a single point! No, he does so with the intention of confusing the minds of the jury as to what they believe to be his brother's fault. He seeks to prove that the denunciation Lawrence has exactly as much evidence as there is against John—I have every confidence that he will succeed." When the trial resumed, the first witness called was Detective Inspector Japp, who gave a terse statement.After recounting some of the earlier events, he went on to say: "After being instructed to act upon the notice, Sergeant Summerhay and myself searched the defendant's room while he was away from the premises. In his chest of drawers, beneath some underwear, we found: first of all A pair of gold-rimmed pince-nez similar to those worn by Mr. Inglethorp."—it was submitted to the court—"and next to this phial." The vial was the one the drugstore clerk had already identified. It was a small blue glass bottle containing a little white crystalline powder, marked on the bottle: "Turnin hydrochloric acid. Very poisonous." One piece of new evidence uncovered by detectives since the police court indictment was a long, almost new piece of blotting paper.It was found in one of Mrs. Inglethorp's checkbooks, and when I reflected it in a mirror, it clearly reflected these words: "... When I die, all the property I own will be bequeathed to my beloved. Husband of Alfred Inge..." This confirms beyond dispute the fact that the ruined will was in favor of the deceased wife's husband.At the time, Japp had presented scorched paper from a restored fireplace as evidence.And now, that, along with a fake beard found in the attic, completes his case. However, Sir Ernest cross-examined anyway. "What day did you search the defendant's room?" "Tuesday, July 24th." "Exactly a week after the tragedy?" "yes." "Tell me that you found these two things in the chest of drawers. The drawers are not locked, are they?" "yes." "Do you think it possible for a man who has committed a crime to keep his evidence in an unlocked drawer where anyone can find it?" "He probably hid them there temporarily in his haste." "But you said it was a full week since the day of the crime. He should have had plenty of time to remove them, and destroy them." "Maybe." "There's no 'maybe' in this question. Does he have, or doesn't he, have the time to divert and destroy them?" "some." "Is the pile of underwear that hides these two things under it thick or thin?" "very thick." "In other words, these are winter underwear. Obviously, the defendant can't drive the drawer?" "Probably not possible." "Answer my question, please. Is it possible for the defendant to open the drawer of his winter underwear during the hottest week of the hot summer? Possible or impossible?" "impossible." "If that's the case, is it possible that the two things we are talking about were released by a third party, and the defendant is completely unaware of it?" "I don't think that's very likely." "But is it possible?" "Have." "That's fine." Some other evidence follows.Evidence that the defendant found himself in financial difficulty by the end of July.Evidence of his infidelity with Mrs. Rex—poor Mary, it was painful to hear for such a reserved woman.Evelyn Howard was right in her facts, though her hatred of Alfred Inglethorp led her to jump to the conclusion that he was the one connected with the case. Later, Laurence Cavendish was brought into the witness box.He answered Mr. Phillips' question in a low voice, and he categorically denied having ordered anything from Parkson's in June.In fact, on the twenty-ninth of June, he was no longer at home, in Wales. " Sir Ernest's jaw thrust forward aggressively at once. "Do you deny that you ordered Blackbeard from Parkson's on June 29th?" "yes." "Ah! In case something happens to your brother. Who will inherit Styles?" This cruel question made Lawrence's pale face flush.The judge murmured disapprovingly, and the accused in the dock stooped forward angrily. Hivewesa paid no heed to the client's irritation. "Please answer my question." "I suppose," Laurence said calmly. "it's me." "You say 'yes'. What do you mean? Brother Huai has no child, and you will inherit it, don't you?" "yes." "Oh, that's good," said Helvetia, with a tone of cruel geniality. "You're also going to inherit most of the property, aren't you?" "In truth, Sir Ernest," objected the judge, "these questions are irrelevant." Ser Ernest nodded, and continued firing his sharp arrow. "On Tuesday, July 17th, I believe you visited the dispensary at the Red Cross Hospital in Tammins with another visitor?" "yes." "Have you ever opened the poison cabinet to check some bottles when you happen to be alone for a few seconds?" "I—I—might be." "I think you're sure of that?" "yes." Sir Ernest then shot a second question straight at him. "Have you ever checked a bottle in particular?" "No, I didn't think so." "Attention, Mr. Cavendish. I'm talking about a small bottle of strychnine." Lawrence's face turned pale. "No-no-yes, I really haven't." "Then how do you account for the fact that you left a clear fingerprint on it?" This method of intimidation is extremely effective against nervous tempers. "I—I thought, I must have taken the bottle." "I think so too! Have you ever taken the contents of the bottle?" "Not really." "Then why did you take it?" "I studied medicine, and this sort of thing naturally interests me." "Ah! So poison 'naturally interests you,' doesn't it? And you wait until you're alone to satisfy your 'interest'?" "That was pure coincidence. I would have done the same even if other people were there." "But the others weren't there when this happened?" "Yes, but—" "In fact, you were alone for a few minutes all that afternoon, and you showed a 'natural interest' in strychnine, and it happened—I mean, it happened—in those few minutes, Is it?" Lawrence stammered pitifully: "me--" Sir Ernest said with a satisfied expression: "I have nothing more to ask you, Mr. Cavendish." These few minutes of cross-examination caused great commotion in the courtroom.Many of the smartly dressed women present were busily whispering to each other, and their murmurs had grown to such an extent that the judge angrily threatened to expel them from court if he did not immediately quiet down. As a further piece of evidence, several experts in graphography were called in to obtain their opinion on the signature "Alfred Inglethorp" on the drugstore's poison register.They all affirmed unanimously that it was indeed not his own handwriting, and that it was their opinion that it might be that of the defendant.Upon questioning, they admitted that this may have been subtly fabricated by the accused. Sir Ernest Helvetia's speech, which began to turn the case in favor of the defendant, was short but resolute and forceful.Never in his long experience, he said, had he known that such little evidence could charge a man with murder.Not only are they entirely secondary circumstantial evidence, but the vast majority of them are actually unproven.Let them look at the evidence they have heard and are examining impartially, strychnine was found in a drawer in the defendant's room.As he pointed out, the drawer was unlocked, and he argued that there was no evidence that it was the defendant who had hidden the poison there.In fact, it was part of a nefarious conspiracy by some third party to place the blame on the accused.Prosecutors could produce little evidence to support their contention that it was the defendant who ordered Blackbeard from Parkson's.The quarrel between the defendant and his stepmother had already been frankly admitted by the defendant, but this incident, as well as his financial plight, had been grossly exaggerated. His colleague—Ernest nodded nonchalantly to Phillips—said that if the defendant had been innocent, he should have come forward at the police court and explained that it was he, not Inger, who was arguing. Mr Risan.He believes that the facts have thus been distorted.The fact of the matter is this: as soon as the defendant returned home on Tuesday evening, he was told with great confidence that the Inglethorp and his wife had had a violent quarrel.It did not occur to the defendant that someone might mistake his voice for Inglethorp's.He naturally concluded that his stepmother had had two quarrels. The prosecution asserted that on Monday, July 16th, the accused visited the village pharmacy, disguised as Mr. Inglethorp.On the contrary, the defendant was at that time in a desolate place called Marston's Grove, to which he was summoned by an anonymous note, full of blackmail words, threatening to report to the His wife revealed something, so the accused went to the appointed place, but waited there for half an hour before returning home.Unfortunately, on the way back and forth, no one came across who could prove the truth of his story, but luckily he still had the note, which could serve as proof. As for the statement about the burning of the will, the defendant had worked as a practicing lawyer before, and he clearly knew that the will that was made in his favor a year ago had been annulled due to the remarriage of his stepmother.He could present evidence as to who burned the will, and thus perhaps a fully paid insight into the case would be possible. Finally, he pointed out to the jury that besides John Cavendish, there was evidence of denunciation.He called their attention to the fact that there was as much, if not more, evidence against Laurence Cavendish than against his brother. At this time, the defendant Liu greeted him. Yue Yu performed well in the dock.He gave a convincing and satisfying account of his trip to the jungle, skilfully arranged by Sir Ernest.He took out the anonymous note he had received and presented it to the jury for review.His willingness to admit his financial difficulties and disagreements with his stepmother had a lot to do with his murder denial. At the end of the appeal, he paused and said: "There is one thing I would like to state clearly. I categorically reject and in no way share the suspicions that Sir Ernest Helvetia has hinted at my brother. I do not think that, in this crime, my brother would have Do more than me." Sir Ernest merely smiled, noting with his piercing eyes that John's plea had made a favorable impression on the jury. Then, start the cross-examination. "I think you say that you did not think of the possibility of a witness at the trial mistaking your voice for Mr. Inglethorp. Isn't that very strange?" "No, I don't think so. When I was told that there had been a quarrel between my mother and Mr. Inglethorp, it never occurred to me that it could not be true." "When Dorcas, the maid, recounted certain fragments of conversation--fragments of which you are supposed to remember--did it not occur to you, too?" "I don't remember those words." "Your memory must be very poor!" "No, but because we were both so angry at the time, I think we said more than we wanted to say. I rarely criticize what my mother actually said." Mr Phillips' snort of disbelief was a feat in debate mechanics.He turned to the question of the note. "You handed in this note very promptly. Tell me, isn't this handwriting familiar?" "Unfamiliar to me." "Don't you think it bears a distinct resemblance to your handwriting—carefully camouflaged?" "No, I don't think so." "I tell you, this is your own handwriting!" "No." "I want to tell you that you, in your haste to show your alibi, came up with the idea of ​​this fictitious and rather implausible date, and wrote this note yourself to corroborate your statement!" "No." "While you profess to be waiting idly in some remote, inaccessible place, you actually end up at the pharmacy in Stiles Village, where you buy taxi's under the false name of Alfred Inglethorp. Ning, isn't that true?" "No, it's a lie!" "I want to tell you that you got there in Mr. Inglethorp's suit, with a black beard trimmed like his, and signed the register in his name!" "That's absolutely not true." "Then I will submit to the jury for consideration the apparent resemblance between the note, the signature on the register, and your own handwriting." Mr. Phillips said, sitting down, with a face that had already been exhausted. It was his own responsibility, but this deliberate false oath still made him look very disgusted. After that, due to the late hour, the case was adjourned until next Monday. I noticed that Poirot looked very depressed.With his frown, I knew it clearly. "Well, Poirot?" I asked. "Alas, my friend, things are not going well, very badly." My heart skipped a beat in relief.Obviously, John Cavendish could be acquitted. When we got home, my little friend declined Mary's offer to invite him to tea. "No, thank you, ma'am, I would like to go upstairs to my room." I followed him.He was still frowning.Go to the desk and take out a small box of cards.Then dragged a chair over to the table, and, to my great amazement, he set up a house of cards with all seriousness! I inadvertently stretched my face, and he immediately said: "No, my friend, I'm not senile! I'm stabilizing my nerves, that's all. The business requires precision of the fingers. Precision of the fingers for precision of the mind. I've never been more precise than I am now." Need more!" "What's the trouble?" I asked. Poirot punched the table hard, knocking over the "edifice" he had carefully erected. "Here it is, friend! I could build a seven-story building of cards, but I couldn't"—thumped—"found"—thumped again—"I told you That last ring!" I really didn't know what to say, so I kept silent.Then he slowly began to build up the cards again.He said intermittently while building: "Well—that's it! Put—one card—on another—with mathematical—exactness!" I watched the house of cards rise under his hands, layer upon layer.He never hesitated, never wavered.It was almost like juggling. "Your hand is very steady," I commented. "I believe I have seen your hand tremble only once so far." "When I am angry, no doubt," replied Poirot, quite calmly. "Yes! On one of your very outbursts. Do you remember? When you found the lock on the attache-case in Mrs. Inglethorp's bedroom. Get used to fiddling with the ornaments above, and your hand trembles like a leaf! I must say—” But I stopped suddenly.For Poirot uttered a hoarse, incoherent cry, overturned his masterpiece once more, and moved his hands up and down over his eyes, obviously in great pain. "Good heavens, Poirot!" I exclaimed. "What's the matter? Are you sick?" "No, no," he said breathlessly. "It's—it's—I've got an idea!" "Ah!" I exclaimed, greatly relieved. "One of your 'little ideas'?" "Oh! Actually, no!" replied Poirot frankly. "It's a big idea this time, a big idea! You—you, my friend, gave it to me!" He suddenly hugged me tightly, kissed my cheeks passionately, and before I recovered from the surprise, he had already run out of the room. Just then Mary Cavendish entered the room. "What's the matter with M. Poirot? He rushed past me, shouting: 'Garage! For God's sake, show me the way to the garage, ma'am!' But before I could answer, he had Out into the street outside the door." I hurried to the window.That's right, there he was, galloping down the street, hatless, gesticulating as he went.I turned around and made a desperate gesture to Mary. "He was stopped for a while by a policeman. Then he ran again, and now he's round the corner!" Our eyes met, and we stared helplessly at each other. "What could be wrong?" I shake my head. "I don't know. He was building a house of cards just now, and suddenly said he had an idea, so, as you can see, he ran out." "Well," said Mary, "I reckon he'll be back by dinnertime." However, night fell, and Poirot did not come back.