‘Yes. Convey anything to you? By the way, I haven’t asked you what your interest is in the case. I’m assuming you’ve got good grounds. I suppose you want to know if it’s suicide? Well, I can’t tell you. Nobody can. According to the maid’s account she was perfectly cheerful yesterday. That looks like accident, and in my opinion accident it is. Veronal’s very uncertain stuff. You can take a devil of a lot and it won’t kill you, and you can take very little and off you go. It’s a dangerous drug for that reason.
‘I’ve no doubt they’ll bring it in Accidental Death at the inquest. I’m afraid I can’t be of any more help to you.’
‘May I examine the little bag of Mademoiselle?’
‘Certainly. Certainly.’
Poirot turned out the contents of the pochette. There was a fine handkerchief with C.M.A. in the corner, a powder puff, a lipstick, a pound note and a little change, and a pair of pince-nez.
These last Poirot examined with interest. They were gold-rimmed and rather severe and academic in type.
‘Curious,’ said Poirot. ‘I did not know that Miss Adams wore glasses. But perhaps they are for reading?’
The doctor picked them up.
‘No, these are outdoor glasses,’ he affirmed. ‘Pretty powerful too. The person who wore these must have been very short-sighted.’
‘You do not know if Miss Adams-’
‘I never attended her before. I was called in once to see a poisoned finger of the maid’s. Otherwise I have never been in the flat. Miss Adams whom I saw for a moment on that occasion was certainly not wearing glasses then.’
Poirot thanked the doctor and we took our leave.
Poirot wore a puzzled expression.
‘It can be that I am mistaken,’ he admitted.
‘About the impersonation?’
‘No, no. That seems to me proved. No, I mean as to her death. Obviously she had veronal in her possession. It is possible that she was tired and strung up last night and determined to ensure herself a good night’s rest.’
Then he suddenly stopped dead-to the great surprise of the passers-by-and beat one hand emphatically on the other.
‘No, no, no, no!’ he declared emphatically. ‘Why should that accident happen so conveniently? It was no accident. It was not suicide. No, she played her part and in doing so she signed her death warrant. Veronal may have been chosen simply because it was known that she occasionally took it and that she had that box in her possession. But, if so, the murderer must have been someone who knew her well. Who is D, Hastings? I would give a good deal to know who D was.’
‘Poirot,’ I said, as he remained rapt in thought. ‘Hadn’t we better go on? Everyone is staring at us.’
‘Eh? Well, perhaps you are right. Though it does not incommode me that people should stare. It does not interfere in the least with my train of thought.’
‘People were beginning to laugh,’ I murmured.
‘That has no importance.’
I did not quite agree. I have a horror of doing anything conspicuous. The only thing that affects Poirot is the possibility of the damp or the heat affecting the set of his famous moustache.
‘We will take a taxi,’ said Poirot, waving his stick.
One drew up by us, and Poirot directed it to go Genevieve in Moffat Street.
Genevieve turned out to be one of those establishments where one nondescript hat and a scarf display themselves in a glass box downstairs and where the real centre of operations is one floor up a flight of musty- smelling stairs.
Having climbed the stairs we came to a door with ‘Genevieve. Please Walk In’ on it, and having obeyed this command we found ourselves in a small room full of hats while an imposing blonde creature came forward with a suspicious glance at Poirot.
‘Miss Driver?’ asked Poirot.
‘I do not know if Modom can see you. What is your business, please?’
‘Please tell Miss Driver that a friend of Miss Adams would like to see her.’
The blonde beauty had no need to go on this errand. A black velvet curtain was violently agitated and a small vivacious creature with flaming red hair emerged.
‘What’s that?’ she demanded.
‘Are you Miss Driver?’
‘Yes. What’s that about Carlotta?’
‘You have heard the sad news?’
‘What sad news?’
‘Miss Adams died in her sleep last night. An overdose of veronal.’
The girl’s eyes opened wide.
‘How awful!’ she exclaimed. ‘Poor Carlotta. I can hardly believe it. Why, she was full of life yesterday.’
‘Nevertheless it is true, Mademoiselle,’ said Poirot. ‘Now see-it is just on one o’clock. I want you to do me the honour of coming out to lunch with me and my friend. I want to ask you several questions.’
The girl looked him up and down. She was a pugilistic little creature. She reminded me in some ways of a fox terrier.
‘Who are you?’ she demanded bluntly.
‘My name is Hercule Poirot. This is my friend Captain Hastings.’
I bowed.
Her glance travelled from one to the other of us.
‘I’ve heard of you,’ she said abruptly. ‘I’ll come.’
She called to the blonde:
‘Dorothy?’
‘Yes, Jenny.’
‘Mrs Lester’s coming in about that Rose Descartes model we’re making for her. Try the different feathers. Bye-bye, shan’t be long, I expect.’
She picked up a small black hat, affixed it to one ear, powdered her nose furiously, and then looked at Poirot.
‘Ready,’ she said abruptly.
Five minutes afterwards we were sitting in a small restaurant in Dover Street. Poirot had given an order to the waiter and cocktails were in front of us.
‘Now,’ said Jenny Driver. ‘I want to know the meaning of all this. What has Carlotta been getting herself mixed up in?’
‘She had been getting herself mixed up in something, then, Mademoiselle?’
‘Now then, who is going to ask the questions, you or me?’
‘My idea was that I should,’ said Poirot, smiling. ‘I have been given to understand that you and Miss Adams were great friends.’
‘Right.’
‘Eh bien, then I ask you, Mademoiselle, to accept my solemn assurance that what I do, I am doing in the interests of your dead friend. I assure you that that is so.’
There was a moment’s silence while Jenny Driver considered this question. Finally she gave a quick assenting nod of the head.
‘I believe you. Carry on. What do you want to know?’
‘I understand, Mademoiselle, that your friend lunched with you yesterday.’
‘She did.’
‘Did she tell you what her plans were for last night?’
‘She didn’t exactly mention last night.’
‘But she said something?’
‘Well, she mentioned something that maybe is what you’re driving at. Mind you, she spoke in confidence.’
