Chapter 12 Chapter 12 The Last Ring

Poirot's sudden departure greatly aroused the curiosity of us all.Sunday morning passed and he still hadn't shown up.But at about three o'clock a loud, drawn-out car horn outside drove us all to the window, where Poirot, accompanied by Japp and Somerrein, got out of a car.The little man has changed.He had an air of ridiculous smugness.He bowed to Mary Cavendish with inordinate respect. "Miss, will you allow me to hold a small meeting in the living room? Everyone has to attend." Mary smiled wryly. "You know, M. Poirot, you have the power to arrange everything."

"You are very good-natured, madam." Poirot, still smiling, assembled us all into the drawing-room, moving the chairs forward as he arranged them. "Miss Howard—here we are. Miss Cynthia. Mr. Lawrence. Honest Dorcas. And Anne. Good! Our meeting must be delayed until Mr. Inglethorp arrives. I have sent him a note." gone." Miss Howard immediately rose from her seat. "If that guy comes into this room, I'll get out of here immediately!" "Don't do it, don't do it!" whispered Poirot, coming up to her. Miss Howard finally agreed, and sat back in her chair.After a while Mr. Inglethorp entered the drawing-room.

As soon as the crowd was assembled, Poirot rose from his seat, assumed the air of a popular orator, and bowed politely to his audience. "Gentlemen and ladies, as you all know, I was commissioned by Mr. John Cavendish to inquire into the case. I immediately examined the dead man's bedroom, which, on the advice of the doctors, It was already locked, so that it remained exactly as it was at the time of the tragedy. On my inspection I found: first, a little patch of green cloth; next, a stain on the carpet near the window, still damp; And third, an empty box of brominating agent powder."

"First this piece of green cloth, which I found hooked to the latch of the door of the bedroom which communicated with Miss Cynthia's adjoining room. I have given this piece of cloth to the police for inspection, and they Didn't think it was important, but they recognized what it was - a bit of cloth ripped from a green farming armband." People got a little agitated. "At present, there is only one person in Styles who is a farmer—Mrs. Cavendish. It must therefore be Mrs. Cavendish who entered Deathwatch's room through the same door as Miss Cynthia's."

"But the door is bolted on the inside!" I exclaimed. "When I went to check the room, it was. But, at first, we just took her word for it, because she was the one who went to try that particular door and reported it was barred. In the ensuing confusion, she There was ample opportunity to re-bolt the door. I had an opportunity long ago to test my theory. First, the piece of cloth fit perfectly with a small torn hole in Mrs. Cavendish's armband. And at the coroner's inquest, Mrs. Cavendish also publicly claimed that from her room she heard the table overturning beside the bed. I have already tested her claim by asking my friend Hastings to stand at the edge of the house. On the left, just outside Mrs. Cavendish's door. I myself went with the police to the chamber of the dead man, where I apparently accidentally overturned the table in question, but found that, as I had said, Mr. Hastings, as expected, heard nothing. This reinforces my belief that her avowed statement that she was dressing in her room at the time of the tragedy was not true. In fact, I am convinced that in Mrs Cavendish was not in her own room when the alarm rang, but was actually in Dead Watch's."

I glanced quickly at Mary.She was very pale, but still smiling. "Let me go on with the reasons for this supposition. Mrs. Cavendish was in her mother-in-law's room. We may say that she was looking for something, and could not find it. Suddenly Mrs. Inglethorp woke up, and she Feeling a panic at the onset of something wrong, she stretched out her hand, overturned the bedside table, and then rang the electric bell recklessly. Mrs. Cavendish was so startled that she dropped the candle she was holding and spilled the turbid oil on the floor. on the rug. She picked up the candle, and hastily retreated into Miss Cynthia's room, closing the door behind her. She hurried out of the room into the passage, for the servants should not find her there. But it was too late Footsteps have been heard from the corridor connecting the two sides. What should she do? She quickly retreated to the young girl's room and shook her awake. The hastily awakened family gathered in the aisle They were all so busy banging on Mrs. Inglethorp's door that it did not occur to them that Mrs. Cavendish was not with the others, but—and this is worth noting—I could ascertain that no one saw her from Come the other side." He looked at Mary Cavendish. "Am I right, ma'am?"

She nodded. "Exactly, sir. You know, if I thought it would do my husband any good to reveal these facts, I would have done so. But I don't think it's a question of his guilt or innocence." "In a sense, that's true, ma'am. But it clears up a lot of illusions in my head, and now let me be frank with him about the really significant facts." "The will!" Lawrence cried. "Then it was you, Mary, who burned that will?" She shook her head, and Poirot shook his head too. "No," he said quietly. "Only one person could possibly burn that will—Mrs. Inglethorp herself!"

"Impossible!" I exclaimed. "That's what she just wrote that afternoon!" "However, my friend, it is indeed Mrs. Inglethorp. For, you have no other way of explaining the fact that one day, on the hottest day of the year, Mrs. Inglethorp ordered the Build a fire." I took a breath.What fools we were, it never occurred to us how unreasonable it would be to light a fire!Poirot continued: "The temperature that day, gentlemen, was eighty degrees in the shade, and Mrs. Inglethorp ordered a fire! Why? Because she wanted to burn something, and couldn't think of anything else. You always remember, because In the war economy in Styles, not even a scrap of paper is allowed to be thrown away, so a document as thick as a will cannot be burned. I heard that in Mrs. Inglethorp's room As soon as the fire was lit, I jumped to the conclusion that some important document must be burned—a will, perhaps. I was therefore not surprised to find charred fragments in the fireplace. Of course, I did not know at the time You know, the will of which we are speaking was made just this afternoon, and I must confess that when I heard the fact that I was seriously misled, I concluded that Mrs. Inglethorp The decision to burn her will was the direct result of a quarrel that had taken place that afternoon, so that the quarrel had occurred after, not before, the making of the will.

"At this point, as we know, I was mistaken, and I was forced to abandon the idea. I approached the matter with a new light. Oh, at four o'clock, Dorcas overheard Her mistress said angrily: 'Don't you think I'm afraid of going out in public, or that the rivalry between husband and wife can frighten me. husband, but to John Cavendish. At five o'clock, an hour later, she said almost the same thing, but from a different point of view. She admitted to Dorcas, 'I don't know how Do; feuds between husband and wife are a dreadful thing.' At four o'clock she was angry, but she was quite a mistress. At five o'clock she was deeply saddened, and said something shocking.

"Looking at this from a psychological point of view, I came to a conclusion, which I think is correct. The second time she said 'rebellion' was different from the first time - it was about herself! "Let's try again. At four o'clock, Mrs. Inglethorp was quarreling with her son, threatening to denounce him to her wife—who, by the way, had happened to overhear the conversation. At four-thirty Mrs. Inglethorp, as a result of a casual conversation about the validity of wills, made a will in favor of her husband, and this was the time when the two gardeners joined together. At five o'clock, Dorcas found her mistress in a rather agitated mood with a sheet of paper in her hand - 'a letter', Dorcas thought - while she ordered There was a fire in her room, and it is probable that something happened at that time, that is, between four-thirty and five o'clock, which caused a very violent change in her feelings, because at this time she was anxious to burn the fire. The testament wing was just like she was eager to make it before. So what is this?

"As far as we know, she was entirely alone during this half-hour. No one entered or left the boudoir. What then caused this sudden change of thought and feeling?" "There can only be one conjecture, but I believe mine to be correct. Mrs. Inglethorp had no stamps in her desk. We know that, because she asked Dorcas to bring some for her afterwards. And in that room In the opposite corner, stood her husband's writing-desk—locked. Desperate to find some postage stamps, she attempted, as I deduce, to open it with her own key. As far as I know, one of There was a worthy key. So she opened the writing-desk, and in the search for stamps she chanced upon something else--the paper which Dorcas saw she held in her hand, Mrs. Inglethorp, on the other hand, believed that the paper which her mother-in-law held so tightly was the object of her own husband and private life. She asked Mrs. Inglethorp to give her this, but she reassured her that nothing happened. Mrs. Cavendish did not believe her. She thought Mrs. Inglethorp was covering up. her own son. And Mrs. Cavendish was a very determined woman, and behind her veil of self-restraint there was a wild jealousy of her husband. She was determined to get the material at any cost, and in this This determination had an opportunity to help her. She happened to pick up the key to Mrs. Inglethorp's briefcase which had been lost early in the morning. She knew that her mother-in-law always kept important papers in this special case. "Therefore, Mrs. Cavendish made her own plans, as only a woman driven by jealousy would make. Sometime in the evening, she drew the latch of the door leading to Miss Cynthia's room. ...probably she also put oil on the hinges, for I found that when I should have opened the door, it made no sound at all. She put off her plans till the early hours of the day, to be on the safe side, as the servants were used to working at that hour. She was heard moving about the room. Putting on her full field clothes, she slipped stealthily through Miss Cynthia's and into Mrs. Inglethorp's." He paused, and Cynthia interrupted him: "But I should have woken up with a start if someone had passed my room?" "If you're drugged, you won't wake up, miss." "anaesthetization?" "Yes!" "You always remember,"—he said again to us all—"that Miss Cynthia next door was such a sound sleeper all the time. There are two possibilities. It's not that she's pretending to be asleep—I don't believe it." One point—it was stunned by some artificial method." "With the latter thought in mind, I examined all the coffee-cups very carefully, and I recall that it was Mrs. Cavendish who brought Miss Cynthia's coffee to Miss Cynthia the night before. I took samples from each of them, They were analysed--in vain I counted the cups carefully, in case one had been taken. Six people had coffee, and all six cups were there. I had to admit I was wrong. "But then I found out that I had made a very serious sloppy mistake. Seven people had coffee. Not six, because Dr. Bauerstein was there that evening. That changed the whole face of the matter, because now there was a Only one cup was missing. The servants paid no attention, and Anne, the maid, brought the coffee, and brought in seven cups, which she did not know that Mr. As usual, she found only six—or, strictly speaking, she saw only five, and this sixth was the one found smashed in Mrs. Inglethorp's room. "I am sure that the missing one is Miss Cynthia's. I am convinced of this fact by the incidental reason that sugar is found in all the cups, and Miss Cynthia never puts sugar in her coffee. My attention was attracted by Anne's account of finding some 'salt' in the tray of cocoa she brought to Mrs. Inglethorp's room every night. I therefore took a sample of the cocoa, It was sent for analysis." "But Dr. Bauerstein has done it," said Lawrence quickly. "Not exactly. He only asked the analyst to report the presence of strychnine. Not the presence of narcotics, as I did." "Anesthetic?" "Yes. This is the analyst's report. Mrs. Cavendish administered a safe and effective anesthetic to both Mrs. Inglethorp and Miss Cynthia. That way she might have time to 'commit'! One can imagine her feelings when her mother-in-law died suddenly, and she heard the word 'poison'! She believed that the sleeping pills she had put were completely harmless, but, no doubt, in that terrible moment She must have been afraid at the moment that Mrs. Inglethorp's death should be blamed on her. She appeared alarmed, and under the influence of this she hurried downstairs and quickly poured out the cup of coffee that Miss Cynthia had drunk. The cup and saucer were thrown into a large brass vase, where it was later found by Mr. Lawrence. And the cocoa that was left behind, she dared not touch. Too many eyes looked at her. Her relief was predictable when strychnine was mentioned, and she discovered that she had not caused the whole debacle. "We can now explain why the symptoms of strychnine poisoning took so long to appear. The narcotic was taken with the strychnine and delayed the action of the poison for several hours." Poirot paused.Mary looked at him, her face gradually turning red. "What you say is all the truth, M. Poirot, and it was the most solemn moment of my life. I shall never forget it. But you are very kind. I know now—" "I told you that you could do no wrong in confessing to Father Poirot. What did I mean? But you don't trust me." "Now I know everything," Lawrence said. "Cocoa, which has an anesthetic, is added to coffee which is poisoned, and this is what causes the delay in the onset of toxicity." "Exactly. But is coffee poisonous or not? Here we run into a little difficulty, for Mrs. Inglethorp never drank coffee." "What?" Everyone exclaimed. "No. Do you remember what I said about the stain on the carpet in Mrs. Inglethorp's room? There was something peculiar about that stain. It was still damp, and gave off a strong smell of coffee, and it seeped into the carpet." I also found some small pieces of china. What happened is clear to me. I had put my little briefcase on the table by the window, but the table suddenly fell to the side. up, and dropped it to the floor, in exactly the same place Mrs. Inglethorp had put the cup of coffee which had been brought into the room the night before, and The unsteady table played a trick on her in the same way. "What happened next is, so far as I am concerned, a mere inference, but I should say that afterward Mrs. Inglethorp picked up the broken glass and put it on the bedside table. She felt the need to drink She had a hot cocoa and drank it. Now, we have a new problem. We know that the cocoa does not contain strychnine, and she does not drink the coffee at all, and the strychnine must be It was played sometime between seven and nine in the evening. What was this third medium—a smell that would mask strychnine so well that it was strange that no one thought of it? Something?" Poirot looked around the room, and then, memorably, answered himself. "Her tonic!" "You mean the murderer put strychnine in her tonic?" I asked aloud. "No need to put it. It's already in it--in the mix. The strychnine that killed Mrs. Inglethorp was the same strychnine prescribed by Dr. Wilkins. To make it clear to you, I I will read to you an excerpt from a formulary book which I found in the pharmacy of the Red Cross Hospital in Tumminster: "'The following recipes are well-known in textbooks: Strychnine Salt ……………… gr.1 Potassium Bromide……………3vi Water………………3viii Mix This solution precipitated most of the strychnine salt as an insoluble bromide in the form of clear crystals after a few hours.An English lady died after taking a similar mixture, because the precipitated strychnine collected at the bottom of the bottle, and when she took the last dose, she almost swallowed all the strychnine! '" "Of course, the bromide was not prescribed by Dr. Wilkins, but you will remember that I mentioned an empty box of bromide powder. Fill one or two packs of this powder until it is full. the strychnine can be effectively precipitated in the tonic bottle, and the last dose can be made to take the last dose as the book says. You will surely hear later that this person who used to pour the medicine for Mrs. Inglethorp People, have been very careful not to shake the bottle, and the sediment left at the bottom of the bottle will not move." "In short, there are many indications that the tragedy should have occurred on Monday night. The wires of Mrs. Inglethorp's calling bell were neatly cut on that day, and Miss Cynthia spent the night at a friend's again on the same night, so on the right. Mrs. Inglethorp was left alone in the side room, thus completely cutting off any assistance, and causing her to die in all likelihood before any doctor could be called for. However, as Mrs. Inglethorp was in a hurry to attend the village She forgot to take the medicine at the entertainment gala, and she did not eat lunch at home the next day, so the last—fatal—dose of the medicine was actually taken twenty-four hours later than the murderer expected; It is because of this delay that the decisive evidence—the last link in this chain—is now in my hands." In the excitement of everyone holding their breath, he took out three thin notes. "A letter from a murderer's own hand, my friends! Had it been more clearly worded, Mrs. Inglethorp might have been spared if she had been warned in time. She was, in fact, aware of the seriousness of her position." Dangerous, but she doesn't know how to kill her." In the dead silence, Poirot put together the notes, cleared his throat, and read: "'Dearest Evelyn: You must be anxious not to hear. All is well--except that it will be this evening instead of last night. You can understand. Once the old woman dies, get rid of it, good day Here it is. No one can conclusively prove I'm guilty. Your bromide idea is a stroke of genius! But we've got to be very careful. A wrong step—'" "That ends the letter, my friends. No doubt the author has been interrupted; but there is no question as to his identity. We all know that the handwriting and—" A howl, almost a scream, broke the silence. "You bastard! How did you get it?" A chair was overturned.Poirot jumped aside nimbly.With one swift movement, his attacker fell to the ground with a thud. "Gentlemen and ladies," said Poirot with a dramatic movement. "Permit me to introduce you to the murderer—Mr. Alfred Inglethorp!"