was beside Sir Claud's chair.'
'Yes?
'His fellow-doctors will have found nothing but the dregs of coffee in it -' He paused.
Without looking at him, Lucia answered, 'Of – of course.'
'That is correct, yes?' Poirot persisted.
Lucia looked straight ahead of her without replying.
Then, looking up at Poirot, she exclaimed, 'Why are you staring at me like that? You frighten me!'
'I said,' Poirot repeated, 'that they took away the cup that was beside Sir Claud's chair this morning. Let us suppose instead that they had taken away the cup that was by his chair last night?' He moved to the table on which the plant bowl stood and took a coffee-cup from the bowl. 'Let us suppose that they had taken this cup!'
Lucia rose quickly, putting her hands up to her face.
'You know!' she gasped.
Poirot moved to her. 'Madame!' His voice now was stern. 'They will test their cup, if they have not already done so, and they will find – nothing. But last night I took some of the dregs from the original cup. What would you say if I were to tell you that there was hyoscine in Sir Claud's cup?'
Lucia looked stricken. She swayed, but then recovered herself. For a moment she said nothing. Then, 'You are right,' she whispered. 'You are quite right. I killed him.' Her voice rang out suddenly. 'I killed him! I put the hyoscine in his cup.' Going to the table, she grasped the full cup of coffee. 'This one – is only coffee!'
She raised the full cup to her lips, but Poirot sprang orward, interposing his hand between the cup and her lips. They looked at each other intently for a time, then Lucia burst into sobs. Poirot took the cup from her and placed it on the table. 'Madame!' he exclaimed.
'Why did you stop me?' Lucia murmured.
'Madame,' Poirot told her, 'the world is very beautiful. Why should you wish to leave it?'
'I – Oh!' Lucia collapsed onto the settee, sobbing bitterly.
When Poirot spoke, his voice was warm and gentle.
'You told me the truth. You put the hyoscine in your own cup. I believe you. But there was hyoscine in the other cup as well. Now, speak the truth to me again. Who put the hyoscine in Sir Claud's cup?'
Lucia stared at Poirot in terror. 'No, no, you're wrong. He didn't. I killed him,' she cried hysterically.
'Who didn't? Whom are you shielding, madame? Tell me,' Poirot demanded.
'He didn't, I tell you,' Lucia sobbed.
There was a knock at the door. 'That will be the police!' declared Poirot. 'We have very little time. I will make you two promises, madame. Promise number one is that I will save you -'
'But I killed him, I tell you.' Lucia's voice was almost at screaming pitch.
'Promise number two,' Poirot continued imperturbabiy, 'is that I will save your husband!'
'Oh!' Lucia gasped, gazing at him in bewilderment.
The butler, Tredwell, entered the room. Addressing Poirot, he announced, 'Inspector Japp, from Scotland Yard.'
Chapter 15
Fifteen minutes later Inspector Japp, accompanied by Johnson, a young constable, had finished his initial inspection of the library. Japp, a bluff, hearty, middle-aged man with a thick-set figure and a ruddy complexion, was reminiscing with Poirot and Hastings, who had returned from his exile in the garden.
'Yes,' Japp told his constable, 'Mr Poirot and I go back a long way. You've heard me speak often of him. He was still a member of the Belgian police force when we first worked together. It was the Abercrombie forgery case, wasn't it, Poirot? We ran him down in Brussels. Ah, those were great days. And do you remember 'Baron' Altara? There was a pretty rogue for you! He eluded the clutches of half the police in Europe. But we nailed him in Antwerp – thanks to Mr Poirot here.'
Japp turned from Johnson to Poirot. 'And then we met again in this country, didn't we, Poirot?' he exclaimed. 'You'd retired by then, of course. You solved that mysterious affair at Styles, remember? The last time we collaborated on a case was about two years ago, wasn't it? That affair of the Italian nobleman in London. Well, it's really good to see you again, Poirot. You could have knocked me down with a feather when I came in a few minutes ago and saw your funny old mug.'
'My mug?' asked Poirot, looking puzzled. English slang never failed to mystify him.
'Your face, I mean, old chap,' Japp explained with a grin. 'Well, shall we work together on this?'
Poirot smiled. 'My good Japp, you know my little weaknesses!'
'Secretive old beggar, aren't you?' remarked Japp, smacking Poirot on the shoulder. 'I say, that Mrs Amory you were talking to when I came in, she's a good-looker. Richard Amory's wife, I suppose? I'll bet you were enjoying yourself, you old dog!'
The inspector gave a rather coarse laugh and seated himself on a chair by the table. 'Anyway,' he continued, 'this is just the sort of case that suits you down to the ground. It pleases your tortuous mind. Now, I loathe a poisoning case. Nothing to go on. You have to find out what they ate and drank, and who handled it, and who so much as breathed on it! I admit Dr Graham seems pretty clear on the case. He says the dope must have been in the coffee. According to him, such a large dose would have been almost instantaneous in effect. Of course, we shall know for certain when we get the analyst's report, but we've got enough to go on.'
Japp rose to his feet. 'Well, I've finished with this room,' he declared. 'I'd better have a few words with Mr Richard Amory, I suppose, and then I'll see this Dr Carelli. It looks as though he's our man. But keep an open mind, that's what I always say, keep an open mind.' He moved to the door. 'Coming, Poirot?'
'But certainly, I will accompany you,' said Poirot, joining him.
'Captain Hastings too, I've no doubt.' Japp laughed. 'Sticks as close to you as your shadow, doesn't he, Poirot?'
Poirot threw a meaningful glance at his friend. 'Perhaps Hastings would prefer to remain here,' he remarked.
Taking his cue in a somewhat obvious manner, Hastings replied, 'Yes, yes, I think I'll stay here.'
'Well, as you please.' Japp sounded surprised. He and Poirot left, followed by the young constable, and a moment later Barbara Amory entered from the garden through the French windows, wearing a pink blouse and light-coloured slacks. 'Ah! There you are, my pet. I say, what's this that's just blown in upon us?' she asked Hastings, as she moved across to the settee and sat down. 'Is it the police?'
'Yes,' Hastings told her. He joined her on the settee. 'It's Inspector Japp of Scotland Yard. He's gone to see your cousin now, to ask him a few questions.'
'Will he want to ask me questions, do you think?'
'I don't imagine so. But even if he does,' Hastings assured her, 'there's nothing to be alarmed about.'
'Oh, I'm not alarmed,' Barbara declared. 'In fact, I think it would be absolutely wizard! But it would be so tempting to embroider a bit, just to make a sensation. I adore sensation, don't you?'
Hastings looked puzzled. 'I – I really don't know. No, I don't think I adore sensation.'
Barbara Amory regarded him quizzically. 'You know, you intrigue me,' she declared. 'Where have you been all your life?'
'Well, I've spent several years in South America.'
'I knew it!' Barbara exclaimed. She gestured, with her hand over her eyes. 'The wide-open spaces. That's why you're so deliciously old-fashioned.'
Hastings now looked offended. 'I'm sorry,' he said stiffly.
'Oh, but I adore it,' Barbara hastened to explain. 'I think you're a pet, an absolute pet.'
'What exactly do you mean by old-fashioned?'
'Well,' Barbara continued, 'I'm sure you believe in all sorts of stuffy old things, like decency, and not telling lies except for a very good reason, and putting a good face on things.'
'Quite,' agreed Hastings in some surprise. 'Don't you?'
