outing. The only thing she was worrying about was whether John wasn't getting too much wrapped up in his experiments and might overdo things or try some of his messes upon himself. Do you know what I think, Hastings?'
'No.'
'That husband of hers is the one who's responsible for her death. Nagged at her, I expect. She was always happy enough when she was with me. He let her see that she handicapped his precious career (I'd give him a career!) and it broke her up. Damned callous, that fellow, hasn't turned a hair. Told me as cool as anything he was off to Africa now. Really, you know, Hastings, I shouldn't be surprised if he'd actually murdered her.'
'You don't mean that,' I said sharply.
'No – no, I don't really. Though, mind you, mainly because I can see that if he murdered her, he wouldn't do it that way. I mean he was known to be working on this stuff – physostigmine – so it stands to reason if he'd done her in, he wouldn't have used that. But all the same, Hastings, I'm not the only one to think that Franklin 's a suspicious character. I had the tip from someone who ought to know.'
'Who was that?' I asked sharply.
Boyd Carrington lowered his voice.
'Nurse Craven.'
'What?' I was intensely surprised.
'Hush. Don't shout. Yes, Nurse Craven put the idea into my head. She's a smart girl, you know, got her wits about her. She doesn't like Franklin – hasn't liked him all along.'
I wondered. I should have said that it was her own patient whom Nurse Craven had disliked. It occurred to me suddenly that Nurse Craven must know a good deal about the Franklin menage.
'She's staying here tonight,' said Boyd Carrington.
'What?' I was rather startled. Nurse Craven had left immediately after the funeral.
'Just for a night between cases,' explained Boyd Carrington.
'I see.'
I was vaguely disquieted by Nurse Craven's return, yet I could hardly have said why, Was there, I wondered, any reason for her coming back? She didn't like Franklin, Boyd Carrington had said…
Reassuring myself, I said with sudden vehemence:
'She's no right to hint things about Franklin. After all, it was her evidence that helped to establish suicide. That, and Poirot's seeing Mrs Franklin coming out of the studio with a bottle in her hand.'
Boyd Carrington snapped:
'What's a bottle? Women are always carrying bottles – scent bottles, hair lotion, nail polish. That wench of yours was running about with a bottle in her hand that evening – it doesn't mean she was thinking of suicide, does it? Nonsense!'
He broke off as Allerton came up to us. Most appropriately, in melodramatic fashion, there was a low rumble of thunder in the distance. I reflected, as I had reflected before, that Allerton was certainly cast for the part of the villain.
But he had been away from the house on the night of Barbara Franklin's death. And besides, what possible motive could he have had?
But then, I reflected, X never had a motive. That was the strength of his position. It was that, and that only, that was holding us up. And yet, at any minute, that tiny flash of illumination might come.
IV
I think that here and now I should like to place on record that I had never, all through, considered for one moment that Poirot might fail. In the conflict between Poirot and X, I had never contemplated the possibility that X might come out victor. In spite of Poirot's feebleness and ill health, I had faith in him as potentially the stronger of the two. I was used, you see, to Poirot's succeeding.
It was Poirot himself who first put a doubt into my head.
I went in to see him on my way down to dinner. I forget now exactly what led to it, but he suddenly used the phrase 'if anything happens to me.'
I protested immediately and loudly. Nothing would happen – nothing could happen.
'Eh bien, then you have not listened carefully to what Dr Franklin told you.'
' Franklin doesn't know. You're good for many a long year yet, Poirot.'
'It is possible, my friend, though extremely unlikely. But I speak now in the particular and not the general sense. Though I may die very soon, it may still be not soon enough to suit our friend X.'
'What?' My face showed my shocked reaction.
Poirot nodded.
'But yes, Hastings. X is, after all, intelligent. In fact, most intelligent. And X cannot fail to perceive that my elimination, even if it were only to precede natural decease by a few days, might be of inestimable advantage.'
'But then – but then – what would happen?'
I was bewildered.
'When the colonel falls, mon ami, the second in command takes over. You will continue.'
'How can I? I'm entirely in the dark.'
'I have arranged for that. If anything happens to me, my friend, you will find here -' he patted the locked dispatch case by his side – 'all the clues you need. I have arranged, you see, for every eventuality.'
'There is really no need to be clever. Just tell me now everything there is to know.'
'No, my friend. The fact that you do not know what I know is a valuable asset.'
'You have left me a clearly written account of things?'
'Certainly not. X might get hold of it.'
'Then what have you left?'
'Indications in kind. They will mean nothing to X – be assured of that – but they will lead you to the discovery of the truth.'
'I'm not so sure of that. Why must you have such a tortuous mind, Poirot? You always like making everything difficult. You always have!'
'And it is now with me a passion? Is that what you would say? Perhaps. But rest assured, my indications will lead you to the truth.' He paused. Then he said: 'And perhaps, then, you would wish that they had not led you so far. You would say instead: 'Ring down the curtain.''
Something in his voice started again that vague unformulated dread that I had once or twice felt spasms of already. It was as though somewhere, just out of sight, was a fact that I did not want to see – that I could not bear to acknowledge. Something that already, deep down, I knew…
I shook the feeling off and went down to dinner.
Chapter 17
I
Dinner was a reasonably cheerful meal. Mrs Luttrell was down again and in her best vein of artificial Irish gaiety. Franklin was more animated and cheerful than I had yet seen him. Nurse Craven I saw for the first time in mufti instead of her nurse's uniform. She was certainly a very attractive young woman now that she had cast off her professional reserve.
