Chapter 32 Chapter 31: Questions of Hercule Poirot

It was a sunny day in November.Dr. Thompson and Chief Inspector Japp came to inform Poirot of the outcome of the court proceedings in the case of Alexander Bonaparte Custer. Poirot himself was unable to attend because of a slight bronchial cold.Fortunately, he didn't let me go with him. "Arraignment was decided," Japp said. "That's it." "Isn't that unusual?" I asked, "to have a defense at this stage? I thought inmates always reserved their defense." "It's a normal procedure," Japp said. "I suppose young Lucas thought he could do it by surprise. He's an adjudicator, I would say. Mental moments are often the only possible defense."

Poirot shrugged his shoulders. "Insane, acquitted. Captivity is rarely better than the death penalty during a king's reign." "I guess Lucas thought there might be a chance," Japp said, "because as long as there's solid evidence of the man's alibi for the Bexhill murders, the whole case could become deficient. I think He hasn't realized how well-documented our case is. He's a young man and he wants to show his face in public." Poirot turned to Thompson. "What do you think, Doctor?" "To Custer? To be honest, I don't know what to say. He's great as the sane guy. Of course, he's epileptic."

"What a surprising ending," I said. "He stumbled into the police station in Andover just at the exact moment of his fit? Yeah, that's a fitting and dramatic end to the drama. ABC always hits it right." "Is it possible to commit a crime and not be aware of it?" I asked. "Whether he committed a crime or not seems a little real." Dr. Thompson smiled. "You shouldn't be fooled by that 'I swear to God' theatrical posturing. I think Custer is well aware of the murders he committed himself." "Those denials are usually intense," Japp said.

"As to your question," Thompson went on, "it is entirely possible for an epileptic to do something while sleepwalking without realizing it. But the prevailing view is that such behavior must 'not violate the the will of the person in his waking state.'” He went on to discuss the matter, speaking of grand mal (French, meaning: Big mistake. — Annotation) and petit mal (French, meaning: Small error. — Annotation), leaving me in layman's confusion.This is often the case when a person who is well versed in a science goes deep into the problems of his profession. "At any rate, I object to the theory that Custer was unaware of his actions when he committed the murder. You might be able to make that argument without those letters. Those letters shatter that view. They show that the crime was committed Premeditated and carefully planned."

"But we have not yet been able to explain these letters," said Poirot. "Does that interest you?" "Of course it is--since the letters were addressed to me. When it came to the subject of letters, Custer was resolutely silent. I shall not consider the case settled until I find out the reason for these letters addressed to me." solve." "Yes—I can understand your point. In either case, there doesn't seem to be any reason to believe that the man was targeting you?" "Nothing at all." "May I make a suggestion? It's your name!"

"my name?" "Yes, Custer apparently bears two extremely exaggerated Christian names: Alexander and Bonaparte, largely at the whim of his mother (I have no doubt there is an Oedipal love affair mother complex). Do you see the implication? Alexander - is generally supposed to be invincible, eager to conquer more of the world; Bonaparte - is the great King of France. He needs a rival —an opponent, one might say, of his class. Hence you—Hercules Hercules." "Your words were quite suggestive, doctor. They gave me some ideas..." "Oh, it's just an idea. Well, I have to go."

Dr. Thompson went out.Japp stayed. "Is his absence worrying you a little?" asked Poirot. "A little bit," admitted the Inspector. "Listen, I don't believe that. I don't think it's true. But break it and you'll get hurt. Strange's a stubborn man." "Tell me about him." "He's about forty years old, a stubborn, confident, strong-minded mining engineer. I think he's the one who's asked to testify now. He wants to leave for Chile, and he wants to get things done." "He's one of the most assertive people I've ever met," I said.

"He's one of those people who doesn't want to admit his mistakes," said Poirot thoughtfully. "He stood by his story, and did not ask questions. He swore with the utmost sincerity that he met Custer at the White Cross Hotel in Eastbourne on the night of the 24th of July. He was lonely and wished to find someone. Let's chat. In my opinion, Custer is an ideal person to talk to. He didn't interrupt the conversation! After dinner, he and Custer played dominoes. It seems that Strange is a master of dominoes. Surprisingly, Custer is also very good. What a strange game, dominoes. People are crazy about it. They will play for hours on end. Obviously, Strange and Custer are obviously like that Playing. Castor wanted to go to bed, but Strange wouldn't listen - he swore they could keep playing until past midnight, which is what they did. They didn't break up until ten minutes past midnight. And if Castor Still at the White Cross Hotel in Eastbourne at ten past ten in the morning on the 25th, he could not have strangled Betty Barnard on the beach at Bexhill between midnight and one o'clock in the morning."

"That question is obviously difficult to answer," said Poirot after a moment's thought. "He is indeed thought-provoking." "It also allowed Crom to think," Japp said. "Is this guy Strange very assertive?" "Yes, he's a bigot, and it's hard to see where the loopholes are. Let's assume Strange got it wrong and it wasn't Custer—why on earth would he say it was Custer?" The signature at the hotel registry is indeed his. You can't say accomplices - murderers don't have accomplices! Didn't the girl die a little later? The forensic evidence is positive, And at any rate it will take some time for Custer to get out of the hotel, without being seen, and get to Bexhill, about fourteen miles away—"

"It is indeed a question—yes," said Poirot. "Strictly speaking, of course, it doesn't matter. We've got Custer in the Doncaster murder - that bloody suit, that knife - there's no excuse. You can't force Any jury acquitted him, but it ruined a beautiful case. He made the Doncaster murder, he made the Chesston murder, he made the Andover murder. Then, hell, He must have done the Bexhill murders too. But I don't know how he did it!" He shook his head and stood up. "Now is your chance, M. Poirot," said he. "Crome is vague. Use your intellect. I've heard so many times in the past. Let us see how he works."

Japp left. "What's the matter, Poirot?" I said. "Can those gray brain cells solve the task?" Poirot answered irrelevantly. "Tell me, Hastings, do you think the case is over?" "Oh, to be honest, yes. We've got the man, we've got most of the evidence, it just needs some embellishment." Poirot shook his head. "The case is closed! The case! The case is the fellow, Hastings. It will be just as dark until we know the man fully. This is not our victory by putting him in the dock!" " "We already know a lot about him." "We don't know anything about him yet! We know where he was born. We know he went to war with a slight head wound, and he was discharged with epilepsy. We know he rented Mrs. Marbury's house." For nearly two years. We knew he was quiet and withdrawn—the kind of guy no one would notice. We knew he concocted and carried out a brilliant serial murder scheme. We knew he committed some unbelievable crimes. Stupid mistake. We know he kills with no compassion and rather brutality. We also know he's kind enough that he doesn't allow others to be blamed for the crimes he committed. If he wants to kill undisturbed - let others do it for him How easily he was involved in his crimes. Don't you see, Hastings, that this man is a mixture of contradictions? Stupid and shrewd, brutal and noble,--and there must be some determinant in between to reconcile his dualities .” "Of course, if you treat him as a psychological research object." I began to speak. "There's always been something else to this case from the beginning? I've been groping for a solution--trying to understand the murderer. Now I realize, Hastings, that I don't really know him at all! I'm at a loss. " "It's the lust for power," I said. "Yes—this may answer a lot of things...but it still doesn't satisfy me. Some things I still want to know, why did he commit the murders? Why did he pick these particular people—?" "It's alphabetical—" I began. "Is Betty Barnard the only person in Bexhill with a B? Betty Barnard - I've got an idea ... it should be real - must be right. But if that's the case—" He was silent for a while.I don't want to interrupt him. In fact, I believe I fell asleep. When I awoke, I found Poirot's hand on my shoulder. "Mon cher Hastings" (French, meaning: My dear Hastings. — Annotation), he said enthusiastically, "my genius." I was baffled by this sudden compliment. "It is true," insisted Poirot, "for a long time—for a long time, you have helped me—bring me luck. You have inspired me." "How did I inspire you this time?" I asked. "As I ask myself some questions, I think of a remark you made - a remark that was absolutely clear and shining. Didn't I ever tell you that you were a genius for telling the truth. Something was neglected." "What is this wise remark of mine?" I asked. "It made everything crystal clear. I found answers to all my questions. About Mrs. Ascher's reasons (yes, I felt vaguely long ago), about Carmichael Clarke's reasons, The cause of Doncaster's murder, and, finally and above all, the cause of Hercule Poirot." "Can you explain?" I asked. "Not yet. I need a little more information. I can get it from our ad hoc group. And then—then, when I get an answer to a question, I'll go meet with the ABC. We'll finally be able to face— —ABC and Hercule Poirot—two rivals." "And then?" I asked. "Then," said Poirot, "we will talk. Je vous assure, Hastings, there is nothing like Talk is more dangerous! A wise old French man once told me that talk is an invention that stops him from thinking. It is also a sure way to find out what he has hidden. Hastings, a man cannot stop talk to him The opportunity to expose himself and show his personality. Every time he showed his feet." "What do you expect Castor to tell you?" Hercule Poirot smiled. "It's a lie," he said, "and through the lie I shall learn the truth!"