Chief Inspector Marsden was affable. 'Well, Monsieur Poirot,' he said. 'Come to set me right about one of my cases?'
Poirot murmured deprecatingly, 'No, no. A little curiosity on my part, that is all.'
'Only too happy to satisfy it. Which case is it?'
'Elinor Carlisle.'
'Oh, yes, girl who poisoned Mary Gerrard. Coming up for trial in two weeks' time. Interesting case. She did in the old woman too, by the way. Final report isn't in yet, but it seems there's no doubt of it. Morphia. Cold-blooded bit of goods. Never turned a hair at the time of her arrest or after. Giving nothing away. But we've got the goods on her all right. She's for it.'
'You think she did it?'
Marsden, an experienced, kindly looking man, nodded his head affirmatively. 'Not a doubt of it. Put the stuff in the top sandwich. She's a cool customer.'
'You have no doubts? No doubts at all?'
'Oh, no. I'm quite sure. It's a pleasant feeling when you are sure! We don't like making mistakes any more than anyone else would. We're not just out to get a conviction, as some people think. This time I can go ahead with a clear conscience.'
Poirot said slowly, 'I see.'
The Scotland Yard man looked at him curiously. 'Is there anything on the other side?'
Slowly Poirot shook his head. 'As yet, no. So far everything I have found out about the case points to Elinor Carlisle's being guilty.'
Inspector Marsden said with cheerful certainty, 'She's guilty, all right.'
Poirot said, 'I should like to see her.'
Inspector Marsden smiled indulgently. He said, 'Got the present Home Secretary in your pocket, haven't you? That will be easy enough.'
Chapter 16
Peter Lord said, 'Well?'
Hercule Poirot said, 'No, it is not very well.'
Peter Lord said heavily, 'You haven't got hold of anything?'
Poirot said slowly, 'Elinor Carlisle killed Mary Gerrard out of jealousy – Elinor Carlisle killed her aunt so as to inherit her money – Elinor Carlisle killed her aunt out of compassion. My friend, you may make your choice!'
Peter Lord said, 'You're talking nonsense!'
Hercule Poirot said, 'Am I?'
Lord's freckled face looked angry. He said, 'What is all this?'
Hercule Poirot said, 'Do you think it is possible, that?'
'Do I think what is possible?'
'That Elinor Carlisle was unable to bear the sight of her aunt's misery and helped her out of existence?'
'Nonsense!'
'Is it nonsense? You have told me yourself that the old lady asked you to help her.'
'She didn't mean it seriously. She knew I wouldn't do anything of the sort.'
'Still, the idea was in her mind. Elinor Carlisle might have helped her.'
Peter Lord strolled up and down. He said at last, 'One can't deny that that sort of thing is possible. But Elinor Carlisle is a level-headed, clear-thinking kind of young woman. I don't think she'd be so carried away by pity as to lose sight of the risk. And she'd realize exactly what the risk was. She'd be liable to stand accused of murder.'
'So you don't think she would do it?'
Peter Lord said slowly, 'I think a woman might do such a thing for her husband, or for her child, or for her mother, perhaps. I don't think she'd do it for an aunt, though she might be fond of that aunt. And I think in any case she'd only do it if the person in question was actually suffering unbearable pain.'
Poirot said thoughtfully, 'Perhaps you are right.'
Then he added, 'Do you think Roderick Welman's feelings could have been sufficiently worked upon to induce him to do such a thing?'
Peter Lord replied scornfully, 'He wouldn't have the guts!'
Poirot murmured, 'I wonder. In some ways, mon cher, you underestimate that young man.'
'Oh, he's clever and intellectual and all that, I dare say.'
'Exactly,' said Poirot. 'And he has charm, too. Yes, I felt that.'
'Did you? I never have!'
Then Peter Lord said earnestly, 'Look here, Poirot, isn't there anything?'
Poirot said, 'They are not fortunate so far, my investigations! They lead always back to the same place. No one stood to gain by Mary Gerrard's death. No one hated Mary Gerrard – except Elinor Carlisle. There is only one question that we might perhaps ask ourselves. We might say, perhaps, Did anyone hate Elinor Carlisle? '
Slowly Dr. Lord shook his head. 'Not that I know of… You mean – that someone might have framed her for the crime?'
Poirot nodded. He said, 'It is a very far-fetched speculation, that, and there is nothing to support it – except, perhaps, the very completeness of the case against her.'
He told the other of the anonymous letter.
'You see,' he said, 'that makes it possible to outline a very strong case against her. She was warned that she might be completely cut out of her aunt's will – that this girl, a stranger, might get all the money. So, when her aunt in her halting speech was asking for a lawyer, Elinor took no chances, and saw to it that the old lady should die that night!'
Peter Lord cried, 'What about Roderick Welman? He stood to lose, too!'
Poirot shook his head. 'No, it was to his advantage that the old lady should make a will. If she died intestate, he got nothing, remember. Elinor was the next of kin.'
Lord said, 'But he was going to marry Elinor!'
Poirot said, 'True. But remember that immediately afterward the engagement was broken off – that he showed her clearly that he wished to be released from it.'
Peter Lord groaned and held his head. He said, 'It comes back to her, then. Every time!'
'Yes. Unless -' He was silent for a minute. Then he said, 'There is something -'
'Yes?'
'Something – some little piece of the puzzle that is missing. It is something – of that I am certain – that concerns Mary Gerrard. My friend, you hear a certain amount of gossip, of scandal, down here. Have you ever heard anything against her?'
'Against Mary Gerrard? Her character, you mean?'
'Anything. Some bygone story about her. Some indiscretion on her part. A hint of scandal. A doubt of her honesty. A malicious rumour concerning her. Anything – anything at all – but something that definitely is damaging to her.'
Peter Lord said slowly, 'I hope you're not going to suggest that line. Trying to rake up things about a harmless young woman who's dead and can't defend herself. And, anyway, I don't believe you can do it!'
'She was like the female Sir Galahad – a blameless life?'
'As far as I know, she was. I never heard anything else.'
Poirot said gently, 'You must not think, my friend, that I would stir the mud where no mud is. No, no, it is not like that at all. But the good Nurse Hopkins is not adept at hiding her feelings. She was fond of Mary, and there is something about Mary she does not want known; that is to say, there is something against Mary that she is afraid I will find out. She does not think that it has any bearing on the crime. But, then, she is convinced that the crime was committed by Elinor Carlisle, and clearly this fact, whatever it is, has nothing to do with Elinor. But, you see, my friend, it is imperative that I should know everything. For it may be that there is a wrong done by Mary to some
