Chapter 26 Chapter 25 Suicide or Murder

I had no time to ask Poirot what he meant, because at this moment Captain Maitland was calling up to us to come down. We hurried down the stairs. "Look, Poirot," said he, "here is another trouble. The monk has disappeared." "Father Lavigne?" "Yes, I noticed this just now, and it occurred to me just now that he was the only one who wasn't there, so we went to his room, and his bed looked as if no one had slept in it last night, and we couldn't see him. traces." It all seemed like a nightmare, first Miss Johnson's death, then Father Lavigne's disappearance.

Servants have been called to inquire, but nothing they can say can help us understand the marvel. They last saw him about eight o'clock the night before, when he said he was going out for a walk before going to bed. No one saw him come back from his walk. The gate was closed and bolted at nine o'clock as usual, but no one remembered having unbolted it in the morning, and the two servants thought the other had done it. Did Father Lavigne come back last night?Did he spot something suspicious on his first walk?Did he check it out later and end up being another victim? Captain Maitland turned sharply to see Dr. Rayleigh coming, followed by Mr. McGado.

"Hello, Rayleigh, have you found anything?" "Yes, that thing is from the laboratory here. I just checked the quantity of the medicine with Mecca, and it is hydrochloric acid from the laboratory." "The research room—huh? Is the door locked?" Mr. McGado shook his head, his hands were shaking; his face was convulsed, and his complexion was disfigured. "We're not in the habit of that," he whispered. "You know--just now--we've been using that room. I--nobody could have dreamed--" "Is that place locked at night?" "Yes—all the rooms are locked and the key hangs in the living room."

"Then, anyone who gets the key to that room can get that medicine." "yes." "I suppose it's an ordinary key?" "Ah, yes." "Is there nowhere to see that she took it out of the laboratory herself?" asked Captain Maitland. "She didn't," I said aloud with certainty. I felt someone touch me from behind as a warning.It turned out that Poirot was right behind me. Then a rather bad thing happened. It wasn't bad in itself--in fact, it was just the discordant situation that made it worse than anything else. A car drove into the yard, and a short man jumped out of the car.He wears a hardshell sunhat and a heavy military jacket.

Dr. Leidner was standing next to Rayleigh as the man walked up to him and shook his hand warmly. "Ah, man, you're here!" he said. "It's good to see you. I passed by here on Saturday afternoon to go to Fojima to be with the Italians. I went to find you at the excavation site. But there was no one there." European, and, oops, I don't speak Arabic, I don't have time to go to the house, this morning, I left Fujima at five o'clock - can be here with you for two hours - and then went to catch Escort. Ah, how's your digging period going?" It's a bad situation!

That exuberant voice, his down-to-earth attitude, his steady manner in the circle of daily life, are all thrown away now, and he just rushes in, knowing nothing, not noticing anything—completely It's a joy. No wonder Dr. Leidner let out a barely audible gasp and looked silently at Rayleigh for help. Dr. Rayleigh stepped forward at once to meet the situation. He took the little man aside (his name was Vallier, a French archaeologist who had excavated in the Greek Islands, as I later heard them say), and told him what had happened here. Wei Lier was taken aback. He himself had been at an Italian excavation site in the wilderness for the past few days, but heard nothing.

He expressed his condolences and apologies, and finally, he walked up to Dr. Leidner and shook his hands warmly. "How miserable, oh, how miserable. I can't find words to comfort you, poor fellow traveler." So, he shook his head, finally expressed that he could not express his feelings, climbed into the car, and left. As I said, the burlesque interludes of this tragedy seem more unpleasant than anything else. "The next thing," said Dr. Reilly firmly, "is breakfast. Yes, I'll insist. Come on, Leidner, you must eat something." Poor Dr. Leidner, almost completely broken down, came with us into the dining room, and we had a very unpleasant breakfast.While hot coffee and fried eggs were nice, none of them felt like eating.Dr. Leidner drank some coffee, then sat and fiddled with his bread.His face was pale with pain and confusion.Pull it long.

After breakfast, Captain Maitland set out to investigate. I explained to him the strange noises I had heard when I awoke, and how I had come to Miss Johnson's room. "You said there was a glass on the floor?" "Yes, she must have dropped it after drinking it." "Is the glass broken?" "No. It fell on the carpet (the hydrochloric acid, by the way, I'm afraid it has burned the carpet), and I picked it up and put it back on the table." "I'm glad you told me about it. There are two fingerprints on the glass, one must be Miss Johnson's own, and the other must be yours."

He was silent for a moment, then said: "Please continue." I carefully explained to him what I had done and what methods I had tried, and at the same time looked at Dr. Rayleigh with concern for his approval.He nodded. "You've tried everything that might work," he said, but I'm sure I did, and I'm just relieved to have my conviction confirmed by him. "Do you know exactly what she's taking?" Captain Maitland asked. "Not sure—but, of course, I can tell it's a corrosive acid." Captain Maitland asked gravely. "Miss Nurse, do you think Miss Johnson drank that stuff on purpose?"

"Oh, no," I exclaimed, "I wouldn't think of such a thing. I don't know why I am so sure, but I think it was partly a hint from M. Poirot.Another reason his words "murder is a habit" sticks with me is that we don't take it lightly to believe that a person kills himself in that painful way. That's what I said, Captain Maitland nodded thoughtfully. "I agree that's not an option that a person would choose," he said, "but if a person is in extreme pain and the drug is readily available, maybe it's taken." "Is she really in extreme pain?"

"This is what Mrs. McGadot said. She said that at dinner last night Miss Johnson was behaving in a strange way, and she hardly heard anyone talking to her. Mrs. McGadore was sure that Miss Johnson was in extreme pain because of something, and therefore, she had I'm having suicidal thoughts." "Oh, I don't believe that at all," I said bluntly. Humph, Mrs. McGado!That nasty, sneaky, vicious woman! "Well, what do you think?" "I thought she was murdered," I said bluntly. He uttered the second question sharply, and I felt as if he was in the nurse's room of a military hospital. "Is there any reason?" "I thought that seemed the most likely solution." "That's just your personal opinion. But I see no reason for killing the lady." "Sorry, there's a reason," I said, "because she found something." "Found something? Discovered what?" I repeated our conversation on the roof word for word. "Will she not tell you what she found?" "Yes, she said she must have time to think about it." "But is she excited about it?" "right." "A way in from the outside," Captain Maitland thought, frowning. "Have you no idea what she's referring to?" "I don't know anything. I've thought about it, but I don't understand anything." Captain Maitland said: "What do you think, Mr. Poirot?" "I thought there might be a motive," said Poirot. "A motive for the murder?" Captain Maitland frowned. "Can't she speak before she dies?" "Yes, she can barely speak four words." "What word?" "The window." "The window?" repeated Captain Maitland. "Do you know what she's referring to?" I shake my head. "How many windows does her bedroom have?" "only one." "Facing the yard?" "correct." "On or off? On, I seem to remember. But maybe one of you did?" "No, the window was always open. Don't know—" I stopped suddenly. "Go on, Miss Nurse." "I've checked the windows, of course. But I don't see anything out of the ordinary and I don't know if anyone has changed the glass." "Change the glass." "Yes. Miss Johnson always goes to bed with a glass of water, you know. I think someone must have changed that glass, and put a glass of caustic acid in there." "What do you think, Rayleigh?" "If it's murder, that's probably what it is," said Dr. Rayleigh quickly. "An ordinary, reasonably careful person wouldn't drink a glass of corrosive acid for water—that is, if he's fully sane. However, if a person is in the habit of always drinking some water in the middle of the night, he may habitually reach for the cup in the old place, and drink it in a half-asleep state, not knowing that he has drunk a fatal amount. " Captain Maitland thought for a moment. "I'll have to go back into that room and look at that window and see how far it's from the head of the bed." I thought about it. "If a person stretches out his hand very long, he can reach the little table next to the bed." "Is it the little table where the glass of water is placed?" "correct." "Is the door locked?" "No." "So whoever comes in from there can replace it?" "Ah, yes." "It's more dangerous that way," said Dr. Reilly. "A man who is in a deep sleep is often awakened by the sound of a footstep. It's safer if you can reach the little table through the window." "I'm not thinking of the cup," said Captain Maitland absently. He awoke suddenly, and said to me again: "You think that poor woman, when she thinks she's dying, is anxious to let you know that someone came in through the window to replace that glass of water with caustic acid, don't you? Well, Wouldn't it be more appropriate for her to say that person's name?" "She may not know the man's name." I pointed this out. "Perhaps it would have been more appropriate if she had hinted at what she had discovered the day before, wouldn't she?" Dr. Rayleigh said: "Maitland, when a person is dying, his mind is not balanced. There is a special thing in his mind that he can't get rid of. At that moment, she still can't forget the window." Hand outstretched. Maybe she thought it seemed important to let people know that fact. I don't think she was wrong either, it was important. She might suddenly remember that you might think she killed herself. If she could talk , she might say: 'It's not suicide, I didn't drink it on purpose, someone put it on the little table next to my bed through the window.'” Captain Maitland made no answer, but tapped his fingers on the table.After a minute or two he said: "There must be two views on the matter, either suicide or murder. Which do you think it is, Dr. Leidner?" Dr. Leidner was silent for a minute or two. Then he said, "Murder. Anna Jensen is not a suicidal woman." "No," admitted Captain Maitland, "under normal circumstances it would not. But there are circumstances where it is a natural solution." "What's the situation like?" Captain Maitland stooped to take the package which I had just seen him lay beside his chair, and he carried it with considerable effort to the table. "Here's something that none of you know about," he said. "We found it under her bed." He untied the knot of the bag, and when it opened, it turned out to be a heavy hand mill, or a millstone. The thing itself is not surprising, because during the excavation work, more than a dozen have been found.What caught our special attention was a dull, brown-black stain on it, and some hair-like stuff. "That's your job, Riley," said Captain Maitland, "but I don't think there's much doubt about it: Mrs. Leidner was killed by this thing."