ac.themysteriousaffairatstyles-第11节
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ur。 That is all。''
John looked perplexed。
‘‘Do not worry；'' said Poirot smoothly。 ‘‘I assure you that you need not let it trouble you。 Since you are so kind； let us go and have some breakfast。''
Every one was assembled in the dining…room。 Under the circumstances； we were naturally not a cheerful party。 The reaction after a shock is always trying； and I think we were all suffering from it。 Decorum and good breeding naturally enjoined that our demeanour should be much as usual； yet I could not help wondering if this self…control were really a matter of great difficulty。 There were no red eyes； no signs of secretly indulged grief。 I felt that I was right in my opinion that Dorcas was the person most affected by the personal side of the tragedy。
I pass over Alfred Inglethorp； who acted the bereaved widower in a manner that I felt to be disgusting in its hypocrisy。 Did he know that we suspected him； I wondered。 Surely he could not be unaware of the fact； conceal it as we would。 Did he feel some secret stirring of fear； or was he confident that his crime would go unpunished？ Surely the suspicion in the atmosphere must warn him that he was already a marked man。
But did every one suspect him？ What about Mrs。 Cavendish？ I watched her as she sat at the head of the table； graceful； posed； enigmatic。 In her soft grey frock； with white ruffles at the wrists falling over her slender hands； she looked very beautiful。 When she chose； however； her face could be sphinx…like in its inscrutability。 She was very silent； hardly opening her lips； and yet in some queer way I felt that the great strength of her personality was dominating us all。
And little Cynthia？ Did she suspect？ She looked very tired and ill； I thought。 The heaviness and languor of her manner were very marked。 I asked her if she were feeling ill； and she answered frankly：
‘‘Yes； I've got the most beastly headache。''
‘‘Have another cup of coffee； mademoiselle？'' said Poirot solicitously。 ‘‘It will revive you。 It is unparalleled for the mal de tête。'' He jumped up and took her cup。
‘‘No sugar；'' said Cynthia； watching him； as he picked up the sugar…tongs。
‘‘No sugar？ You abandon it in the war…time； eh？''
‘‘No； I never take it in coffee。''
‘‘Sacré！'' murmured Poirot to himself； as he brought back the replenished cup。
Only I heard him； and glancing up curiously at the little man I saw that his face was working with suppressed excitement； and his eyes were as green as a cat's。 He had heard or seen something that had affected him strongly but what was it？ I do not usually label myself as dense； but I must confess that nothing out of the ordinary had attracted myattention。
In another moment； the door opened and Dorcas appeared。
‘‘Mr。 Wells to see you； sir；'' she said to John。
I remembered the name as being that of the lawyer to whom Mrs。 Inglethorp had written the night before。
John rose immediately。
‘‘Show him into my study。'' Then he turned to us。 ‘‘My mother's lawyer；'' he explained。 And in a lower voice： ‘‘He is also Coroner you understand。 Perhaps you would like to e with me？''
We acquiesced and followed him out of the room。 John strode on ahead and I took the opportunity of whispering to Poirot：
‘‘There will be an inquest then？''
Poirot nodded absently。 He seemed absorbed in thought； so much so that my curiosity was aroused。
‘‘What is it？ You are not attending to what I say。''
‘‘It is true； my friend。 I am much worried。''
‘‘Why？''
‘‘Because Mademoiselle Cynthia does not take sugar in her coffee。''
‘‘What？ You cannot be serious？''
‘‘But I am most serious。 Ah； there is something there that I do not understand。 My instinct was right。''
‘‘What instinct？''
‘‘The instinct that led me to insist on examining those coffee…cups。 Chut！ no more now！''
We followed John into his study； and he closed the door behind us。
Mr。 Wells was a pleasant man of middle…age； with keen eyes； and the typical lawyer's mouth。 John introduced us both； and explained the reason of our presence。
‘‘You will understand； Wells；'' he added； ‘‘that this is all strictly private。 We are still hoping that there will turn out to be no need for investigation of any kind。''
‘‘Quite so； quite so；'' said Mr。 Wells soothingly。 ‘‘I wish we could have spared you the pain and publicity of an inquest； but of course it's quite unavoidable in the absence of a doctor's certificate。''
‘‘Yes； I suppose so。''
‘‘Clever man； Bauerstein。 Great authority on toxicology； I believe。''
‘‘Indeed；'' said John with a certain stiffness in his manner。 Then he added rather hesitatingly： ‘‘Shall we have to appear as witnesses all of us； I mean？''
‘‘You； of course and ah er Mr。 er Inglethorp。''
A slight pause ensued before the lawyer went on in his soothing manner：
‘‘Any other evidence will be simply confirmatory； a mere matter of form。''
‘‘I see。''
A faint expression of relief swept over John's face。 It puzzled me； for I saw no occasion for it。
‘‘If you know of nothing to the contrary；'' pursued Mr。 Wells； ‘‘I had thought of Friday。 That will give us plenty of time for the doctor's report。 The post…mortem is to take place to…night； I believe？''
‘‘Yes。''
‘‘Then that arrangement will suit you？''
‘‘Perfectly。''
‘‘I need not tell you； my dear Cavendish； how distressed I am at this most tragic affair。''
‘‘Can you give us no help in solving it； monsieur？'' interposed Poirot； speaking for the first time since we had entered the room。
‘‘I？''
‘‘Yes； we heard that Mrs。 Inglethorp wrote to you last night。 You should have received the letter this morning。''
‘‘I did； but it contains no information。 It is merely a note asking me to call upon her this morning； as she wanted my advice on a matter of great importance。''
‘‘She gave you no hint as to what that matter might be？''
‘‘Unfortunately； no。''
‘‘That is a pity；'' said John。
‘‘A great pity；'' agreed Poirot gravely。
There was silence。 Poirot remained lost in thought for a few minutes。 Finally he turned to the lawyer again。
‘‘Mr。 Wells； there is one thing I should like to ask you that is； if it is not against professional etiquette。 In the event of Mrs。 Inglethorp's death； who would inherit her money？''
The lawyer hesitated a moment； and then replied：
‘‘The knowledge will be public property very soon； so if Mr。 Cavendish does not object ''
‘‘Not at all；'' interpolated John。
‘‘I do not see any reason why I should not answer your question。 By her last will； dated August of last year； after various unimportant legacies to servants； etc。； she gave her entire fortune to her stepson； Mr。 John Cavendish。''
‘‘Was not that pardon the question； Mr。 Cavendish rather unfair to her other stepson； Mr。 Lawrence Cavendish？''
‘‘No； I do not think so。 You see； under the terms of their father's will； while John inherited the property； Lawrence； at his stepmother's death； would e into a considerable sum of money。 Mrs。 Inglethorp left her money to her elder stepson； knowing that he would have to keep up Styles。 It was； to my mind； a very fair and equitable distribution。''
Poirot nodded thoughtfully。
‘‘I see。 But I am right in saying； am I not； that by your English law that will was automatically revoked when Mrs。 Inglethorp remarried？''
Mr。 Wells bowed his head。
‘‘As I was about to proceed； Monsieur Poirot； that document is now null and void。''
‘‘Hein！'' said Poirot。 He reflected for a moment； and then asked： ‘‘Was Mrs。 Inglethorp herself aware of that fact？''
‘‘I do not know。 She may have been。''
‘‘She was；'' said John unexpectedly。 ‘‘We were discussing the matter of wills being revoked by marriage only yesterday。''
‘‘Ah！ One more question； Mr。 Wells。 You say ‘her last will。' Had Mrs。 Inglethorp； then； made several former wills？''
‘‘On an average； she made a new will at least once a year；'' said Mr。 Wells imperturbably。 ‘‘She was given to changing her mind as to her testamentary dispositions； now benefiting one； now another member of her family。''
‘‘Suppose；'' suggested Poirot； ‘‘that； unknown to you； she had made a new will in favour of some one who was not； in any sense of the word； a member of the family we will say Miss Howard； for instance would you be surprised？''
‘‘Not in the least。''
‘‘Ah！'' Poirot seemed to have exhausted his questions。
I drew close to him； while John and the lawyer were debating the question of going through Mrs。 Inglethorp's papers。
‘‘Do you think Mrs。 Inglethorp made a will leaving all her money to Miss Howard？'' I asked in a low voice； with some curiosity。
Poirot smiled。
‘‘No。''
‘‘Then why did you ask？''
‘‘Hush！''
John Cavendish had turned to Poirot。
‘‘Will you e with us； Monsieur Poirot？ We are going through my mother's papers。 Mr。 Inglethorp is quite willing to leave it entirely to Mr。 Wells and myself。''
‘‘Which simplifies matters very much；'' murmured the lawyer。 ‘‘As technically； of course； he was entitled '' He did not finish the sentence。
‘‘We will look through the desk in the boudoir first；'' explained John； ‘‘and go up to her bedroom afterwards。 She kept her most
