Chapter 21 20

(twenty) "It was a clever idea of ​​Miss Hohouse's," said Inspector Sharpe.There was a calmness in his voice, almost like a father speaking. He shuffled the passports like he was shuffling them. "Complicated matters, finances," he said, "we've been busy going from bank to bank. She's covering her movements—her financial movements, I mean. Dare I say Within two years she'd probably quit, go abroad, and live happily ever after, on crooked income, as they say. It's not a big deal -- illegal diamonds, sapphires, etc. Comes in -- loot goes out -- with cocaine, you might say. Totally well organized. She goes abroad under her real name or a different alias, though never very often, and the actual smuggling operation It's been done quietly by others. She has agents abroad to switch those rucksacks at the right moment. Yes, it's a clever idea. And we have to thank Mr. Poirot who was there for letting us know about it. She said to Poor Miss Austen's suggestion of a psychopathic stealing stunt is also a clever move. You can say you saw it right then and there, Mister Poirot?"

Poirot smiled disapprovingly, and Mrs. Hubbard looked at him with admiration.This was a completely off-the-record conversation in Mrs. Hubbard's drawing room. "Her greed ruined her," said Mr. Poirot, "and she was seduced by that fine diamond in Patricia Lane's ring. It was a foolish thing for her to do, for it immediately suggested that she used to deal with precious stones." --Pry out the diamonds and replace them with zircons. Yes, it does make me think a little bit about Valerie Hohaus. But she's smart, yes, and when I accused her of stirring up Celia, she admitted, And explain it with complete sympathy."

"But murder!" said Mrs. Hubbard. "Cold-blooded murder. Even now I really can't believe it." Inspector Sharp looked gloomy. "We haven't gotten to the point where we can charge her with the murder of Celia Austin," he said. "We can charge her for smuggling, of course. That's fine. But the murder charge is much weirder. The prosecutors don't think it's feasible." There was a motive, of course, and a chance. She probably knew about the bet, and that Nigel had the morphine, but there was no real proof, and there were two other deaths to consider. She was probably poisoned Mrs. Nicoletis--but on the other hand, she did not kill Patricia Lane. In fact she was almost the only person who was completely innocent. Geronimo affirmed that she left the house at six o'clock. .He insists on that. I don't know if she bought him--"

"No," said Poirot, shaking his head, "she didn't bribe him." "And we have the testimony of the corner pharmacist. He knew her quite well, and he insisted that she went to him at five past six, bought flour and aspirin, and made a phone call at the same time. She left his store at a quarter past six. Here, take a taxi." Poirot sat up straight. "But," he said, "this is wonderful! Just what we need!" "what do you mean?" "I mean she did call from the chemist's." Inspector Sharpe looked at him angrily. "Listen, Mr. Poirot. Let's now turn to the known facts. At 6:08 Patricia Lane was alive while calling the police from this room. That Do you agree?"

"I don't think she was calling from this room." "Okay, then, from the downstairs hall." "Not from the hall either." Inspector Sharp sighed. "I suppose you don't deny that there are calls to the police station? You don't think my officers, Officer Nair, Nigel Chapman, and all have hallucinations, do you?" "Of course not. Someone called you. I guess it must have come from the payphone box in the pharmacist's shop." Inspector Sharp's jaw dropped for a moment. "You mean that Valerie Hobhouse made the call? She pretended to be Patricia Lane, when in fact Patricia Lane was dead?"

"That's exactly what I mean, yes." The Inspector was silent for a moment, then he thumped the tabletop. "I don't believe it. The voice—I heard it with my own ears—" "You heard it, yes. A girl's voice--breathless, scrambling. But you don't know Patricia Lane's voice well enough to be sure it's hers. " "I don't know that well, maybe. But it was actually Nigel Chapman who answered the phone. You can't tell me that Nigel Chapman might be tricked. Disguise your voice on the phone, or pretend It’s not so easy with other people’s voices. If it wasn’t Patricia speaking, Nigel Chapman would have heard it.”

"Yes," said Poirot, "Nigel Chapman should have heard it. Nigel Chapman knew quite well that it wasn't Patricia. Who knew better than him, since he'd been in the Hitting her on the back of the head earlier killed her." It was some time before the Inspector could speak. "Nigel Chapman? But when we found her dead--he cried--like a little child." "Perhaps," said Poirot, "I think that girl is someone he could have liked--but that won't save her--not when she threatens his interests. Nigel Chapman has always been an obvious Possibility. Who has the morphine? Nigel Chapman. Who has the cunning to plan and the guts to execute fraud and murder? Nigel Chapman. Who is the most ruthless and pompous man we know? Nigel Sharp Man. He has all the qualities of a murderer; excessive self-importance, evil-mindedness, unscrupulousness, everything makes him do everything possible to draw attention to himself--using green ink, with amazing mystique, and finally played caught fire, made a ridiculous voluntary mistake, put Ryan Bateson's hair between Patricia's fingers, ignoring that Patricia was attacked from behind, and it was impossible to catch the attacker The fact of hair. They're like that, these murderers -- carried away by their egos, their pretense of cleverness, by their charm -- he's charismatic, this Nigel -- he has the ability to be All the charm of a spoiled child, a child who never grows up and never will—he sees only one thing, himself, and what he wants!"

"But why, Mr. Poirot? Why kill? Celia Austin may have a reason, but why kill Patricia Lane?" "That," said Poirot, "we must find out."