happening would be high, I fancy. But another point, if food poisoning was to be suggested: Why not choose a different poison? The symptoms of morphine are not in the least like those of food poisoning. Atropine, surely, would have been a better choice!'
Peter Lord said slowly, 'Yes, that's true. But there's something more. That damned District Nurse swears she lost a tube of morphine!'
'When?'
'Oh, weeks earlier, the night old Mrs. Welman died. The nurse says she left her case in the hall and found a tube of morphine missing in the morning. All buncombe, I believe. Probably smashed it at home some time before and forgot about it.'
'She has only remembered it since the death of Mary Gerrard?'
Peter Lord said reluctantly, 'As a matter of fact, she did mention it at the time – to the nurse on duty.'
Hercule Poirot was looking at Peter Lord with some interest. He said gently, 'I think, mon cher, there is something else – something that you have not yet told me.'
Peter Lord said, 'Oh, well, I suppose you'd better have it all. They're applying for an exhumation order and going to dig up old Mrs. Welman.'
Poirot said, 'Eh bien?'
Peter Lord said, 'When they do, they'll probably find what they're looking for – morphine!'
'You knew that?'
Peter Lord, his face white under the freckles, muttered, 'I suspected it.'
Hercule Poirot beat with his hand on the arm of his chair. He cried out, 'Mon Dieu, I do not understand you! You knew when she died that she had been murdered?'
Peter Lord shouted, 'Good Lord, no! I never dreamed of such a thing! I thought she'd taken it herself.'
Poirot sank back in his chair. 'Ah! You thought that.'
'Of course I did! She'd talked to me about it. Asked me more than once if I couldn't 'finish her off.' She hated illness, the helplessness of it – the – what she called the indignity of lying there tended like a baby. And she was a very determined woman.'
He was silent a moment, then he went on: 'I was surprised at her death. I hadn't expected it. I sent the nurse out of the room and made as thorough an investigation as I could. Of course, it was impossible to be sure without an autopsy. Well, what was the good of that? If she'd taken a short-cut, why make a song and dance about it and create a scandal?
Better sign the certificate and let her be buried in peace. After all, I couldn't be sure. I decided wrong, I suppose. But I never dreamed for one moment of foul play! I was quite sure she'd done it herself.'
Poirot asked, 'How did you think she had got hold of the morphine?'
'I hadn't the least idea. But, as I tell you, she was a clever, resourceful woman, with plenty of ingenuity and remarkable determination.'
'Would she have got it from the nurses?'
Peter Lord shook his head. 'Never on your life! You don't know nurses!'
'From her family?'
'Possibly. Might have worked on their feelings.'
Hercule Poirot said, 'You have told me that Mrs. Welman died intestate. If she had lived, would she have made a will?'
Peter Lord grinned suddenly. 'Putting your finger with fiendish accuracy on all the vital spots, aren't you? Yes, she was going to make a will; very agitated about it. Couldn't speak intelligently, but made her wishes clear. Elinor Carlisle was to have telephoned the lawyer first thing in the morning.'
'So Elinor Carlisle knew that her aunt wanted to make a will? And if her aunt died without making one, Elinor Carlisle inherited everything?'
Peter Lord said quickly, 'She didn't know that. She'd no idea her aunt had never made a will.'
'That, my friend, is what she says. She may have known.'
'Look here, Poirot, are you the Prosecuting Counsel?'
'At the moment, yes. I must know the full strength of the case against her. Could Elinor Carlisle have taken the morphine from the attache case?'
'Yes. So could anyone else. Roderick Welman. Nurse O'Brien. Any of the servants.'
'Or Dr. Lord?'
Peter Lord's eyes opened wide. He said, 'Certainly. But what would be the idea?'
'Mercy, perhaps.'
Peter Lord shook his head. 'Nothing doing there! You'll have to believe me!'
Hercule Poirot leaned back in his chair. He said, 'Let us entertain a supposition. Let us say that Elinor Carlisle did take that morphine from the attache case and did administer it to her aunt. Was anything said about the loss of the morphine?'
'Not to the household. The two nurses kept it to themselves.' Poirot said, 'What, in your opinion, will be the action of the Crown?'
'You mean if they find morphine in Mrs. Welman's body?'
'Yes.'
Peter Lord said grimly, 'It's possible that if Elinor is acquitted of the present charge she will be rearrested and charged with the murder of her aunt.'
Poirot said thoughtfully, 'The motives are different; that is to say, in the case of Mrs. Welman the motive would have been gain, whereas in the case of Mary Gerrard the motive is supposed to be jealousy.'
'That's right.'
Poirot said, 'What line does the defence propose to take?'
Peter Lord said, 'Bulmer proposes to take the line that there was no motive. He'll put forward the theory that the engagement between Elinor and Roderick was a family business, entered into for family reasons, to please Mrs. Welman, and that the moment the old lady was dead Elinor broke it off of her own accord. Roderick Welman will give evidence to that effect. I think he almost believes it!'
'Believes that Elinor did not care for him to any great extent?'
'Yes.'
'In which case,' said Poirot, 'she would have no reason for murdering Mary Gerrard.'
'Exactly.'
'But in that case, who did murder Mary Gerrard?'
'As you say.'
Poirot shook his head. 'C'est difficile.'
Peter Lord said vehemently, 'That's just it! If she didn't, who did? There's the tea; but both Nurse Hopkins and Mary drank that. The defence will try and suggest that Mary Gerrard took the morphine herself after the other two had left the room – that she committed suicide, in fact.'
'Had she any reason for committing suicide?'
'None whatever.'
'Was she of a suicidal type?'
'No.'
Poirot said, 'What was she like, this Mary Gerrard?'
Peter Lord considered, 'She was – well, she was a nice kid. Yes, definitely a nice kid.'
Poirot sighed.
He murmured 'This Roderick Welman, did he fall in love with her because she was a nice kid?'
Peter Lord smiled. 'Oh, I get what you mean. She was beautiful, all right.'
'And you yourself? You had no feeling for her?' Peter Lord stared, 'Good Lord, no.'
Hercule Poirot reflected for a moment or two, then he said, 'Roderick Welman says that there was affection between him and Elinor Carlisle, but nothing stronger. Do you agree to that?'
'How the hell should I know?'
Poirot shook his head. 'You told me when you came into this room that Elinor Carlisle had the bad taste to be in love with a long-nosed, supercilious ass. That, I presume, is a description of Roderick Welman. So, according to you, she does care for him.'
