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第32节

ac.themysteriousaffairatstyles-第32节

小说: ac.themysteriousaffairatstyles 字数: 每页4000字

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 I could not quite tell what to say; so I held my peace; and he began slowly building up the cards again; speaking in jerks as he did so。 
 ‘‘It is done  so! By placing  one card  on another  with mathematical  precision!'' 
 I watched the card house rising under his hands; story by story。 He never hesitated or faltered。 It was really almost like a conjuring trick。 
 ‘‘What a steady hand you've got;'' I remarked。 ‘‘I believe I've only seen your hand shake once。'' 
 ‘‘On an occasion when I was enraged; without doubt;'' observed Poirot; with great placidity。 
 ‘‘Yes indeed! You were in a towering rage。 Do you remember? It was when you discovered that the lock of the despatch…case in Mrs。 Inglethorp's bedroom had been forced。 You stood by the mantel…piece; twiddling the things on it in your usual fashion; and your hand shook like a leaf! I must say   '' 
 But I stopped suddenly。 For Poirot; uttering a hoarse and inarticulate cry; again annihilated his masterpiece of cards; and putting his hands over his eyes swayed backwards and forwards; apparently suffering the keenest agony。 
 ‘‘Good heavens; Poirot!'' I cried。 ‘‘What is the matter? Are you taken ill?'' 
 ‘‘No; no;'' he gasped。 ‘‘It is  it is  that I have an idea!'' 
 ‘‘Oh!'' I exclaimed; much relieved。 ‘‘One of your ‘little ideas'?'' 
 ‘‘Ah; ma foi; no!'' replied Poirot frankly。 ‘‘This time it is an idea gigantic! Stupendous! And you  you; my friend; have given it to me!'' 
 Suddenly clasping me in his arms; he kissed me warmly on both cheeks; and before I had recovered from my surprise ran headlong from the room。 
 Mary Cavendish entered at that moment。 
 ‘‘What is the matter with Monsieur Poirot? He rushed past me crying out: ‘A garage! For the love of Heaven; direct me to a garage; madame!' And; before I could answer; he had dashed out into the street。'' 
 I hurried to the window。 True enough; there he was; tearing down the street; hatless; and gesticulating as he went。 I turned to Mary with a gesture of despair。 
 ‘‘He'll be stopped by a policeman in another minute。 There he goes; round the corner!'' 
 Our eyes met; and we stared helplessly at one another。 
 ‘‘What can be the matter?'' 
 I shook my head。 
 ‘‘I don't know。 He was building card houses; when suddenly he said he had an idea; and rushed off as you saw。'' 
 ‘‘Well;'' said Mary; ‘‘I expect he will be back before dinner。'' 
 But night fell; and Poirot had not returned。 
 
 Chapter 12
 THE LAST LINK
 
 POIROT'S abrupt departure had intrigued us all greatly。 Sunday morning wore away; and still he did not reappear。 But about three o'clock a ferocious and prolonged hooting outside drove us to the window; to see Poirot alighting from a car; acpanied by Japp and Summerhaye。 The little man was transformed。 He radiated an absurd placency。 He bowed with exaggerated respect to Mary Cavendish。 
 ‘‘Madame; I have your permission to hold a little réunion in the salon? It is necessary for every one to attend。'' 
 Mary smiled sadly。 
 ‘‘You know; Monsieur Poirot; that you have carte blanche in every way。'' 
 ‘‘You are too amiable; madame。'' 
 Still beaming; Poirot marshalled us all into the drawing…room; bringing forward chairs as he did so。 
 ‘‘Miss Howard  here。 Mademoiselle Cynthia。 Monsieur Lawrence。 The good Dorcas。 And Annie。 Bien! We must delay our proceedings a few minutes until Mr。 Inglethorp arrives。 I have sent him a note。'' 
 Miss Howard rose immediately from her seat。 
 ‘‘If that man es into the house; I leave it!'' 
 ‘‘No; no!'' Poirot went up to her and pleaded in a low voice。 
 Finally Miss Howard consented to return to her chair。 A few minutes later Alfred Inglethorp entered the room。 
 The pany once assembled; Poirot rose from his seat with the air of a popular lecturer; and bowed politely to his audience。 
 ‘‘Messieurs; mesdames; as you all know; I was called in by Monsieur John Cavendish to investigate this case。 I at once examined the bedroom of the deceased which; by the advice of the doctors; had been kept locked; and was consequently exactly as it had been when the tragedy occurred。 I found: first; a fragment of green material; second; a stain on the carpet near the window; still damp; thirdly; an empty box of bromide powders。 
 ‘‘To take the fragment of green material first; I found it caught in the bolt of the municating door between that room and the adjoining one occupied by Mademoiselle Cynthia。 I handed the fragment over to the police who did not consider it of much importance。 Nor did they recognize it for what it was  a piece torn from a green land armlet。'' 
 There was a little stir of excitement。 
 ‘‘Now there was only one person at Styles who worked on the land  Mrs。 Cavendish。 Therefore it must have been Mrs。 Cavendish who entered the deceased's room through the door municating with Mademoiselle Cynthia's room。'' 
 ‘‘But that door was bolted on the inside!'' I cried。 
 ‘‘When I examined the room; yes。 But in the first place we have only her word for it; since it was she who tried that particular door and reported it fastened。 In the ensuing confusion she would have had ample opportunity to shoot the bolt across。 I took an early opportunity of verifying my conjectures。 To begin with; the fragment corresponds exactly with a tear in Mrs。 Cavendish's armlet。 Also; at the inquest; Mrs。 Cavendish declared that she had heard; from her own room; the fall of the table by the bed。 I took an early opportunity of testing that statement by stationing my friend Monsieur Hastings in the left wing of the building; just outside Mrs。 Cavendish's door。 I myself; in pany with the police; went to the deceased's room; and whilst there I; apparently accidentally; knocked over the table in question; but found that; as I had expected; Monsieur Hastings had heard no sound at all。 This confirmed my belief that Mrs。 Cavendish was not speaking the truth when she declared that she had been dressing in her room at the time of the tragedy。 In fact; I was convinced that; far from having been in her own room; Mrs。 Cavendish was actually in the deceased's room when the alarm was given。'' 
 I shot a quick glance at Mary。 She was very pale; but smiling。 
 ‘‘I proceeded to reason on that assumption。 Mrs。 Cavendish is in her mother…in…law's room。 We will say that she is seeking for something and has not yet found it。 Suddenly Mrs。 Inglethorp awakens and is seized with an alarming paroxysm。 She flings out her arm; overturning the bed table; and then pulls desperately at the bell。 Mrs。 Cavendish; startled; drops her candle; scattering the grease on the carpet。 She picks it up; and retreats quickly to Mademoiselle Cynthia's room; closing the door behind her。 She hurries out into the passage; for the servants must not find her where she is。 But it is too late! Already footsteps are echoing along the gallery which connects the two wings。 What can she do? Quick as thought; she hurries back to the young girl's room; and starts shaking her awake。 The hastily aroused household e trooping down the passage。 They are all busily battering at Mrs。 Inglethorp's door。 It occurs to nobody that Mrs。 Cavendish has not arrived with the rest; but  and this is significant  I can find no one who saw her e from the other wing。'' He looked at Mary Cavendish。 ‘‘Am I right; madame?'' 
 She bowed her head。 
 ‘‘Quite right; monsieur。 You understand that; if I had thought I would do my husband any good by revealing these facts; I would have done so。 But it did not seem to me to bear upon the question of his guilt or innocence。'' 
 ‘‘In a sense; that is correct; madame。 But it cleared my mind of many misconceptions; and left me free to see other facts in their true significance。'' 
 ‘‘The will!'' cried Lawrence。 ‘‘Then it was you; Mary; who destroyed the will?'' 
 She shook her head; and Poirot shook his also。 
 ‘‘No;'' he said quietly。 ‘‘There is only one person who could possibly have destroyed that will  Mrs。 Inglethorp herself!'' 
 ‘‘Impossible!'' I exclaimed。 ‘‘She had only made it out that very afternoon!'' 
 ‘‘Nevertheless; mon ami; it was Mrs。 Inglethorp。 Because; in no other way can you account for the fact that; on one of the hottest days of the year; Mrs。 Inglethorp ordered a fire to be lighted in her room。'' 
 I gave a gasp。 What idiots we had been never to think of that fire as being incongruous! Poirot was continuing: 
 ‘‘The temperature on that day; messieurs; was 80o in the shade。 Yet Mrs。 Inglethorp ordered a fire! Why? Because she wished to destroy something; and could think of no other way。 You will remember that; in consequence of the War economics practiced at Styles; no waste paper was thrown away。 There was therefore no means of destroying a thick document such as a will。 The moment I heard of a fire being lighted in Mrs。 Inglethorp's room; I leaped to the conclusion that it was to destroy some important document  possibly a will。 So the discovery of the charred fragment in the grate was no surprise to me。 I did not; of course; know at the time that the will in question had only been made this afternoon; and I will admit that; when I learnt that fact; I fell into a grievous error。 I came to the conclusion that Mrs。 Inglethorp's determinatio

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