Reading Help The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie. Ch.I-VI
`
` After which piece of moralizing, he resumed his search. `
` `
` A small purple despatch-case, with a key in the lock, on the `
` writing-table, engaged his attention for some time. He took out `
` the key from the lock, and passed it to me to inspect. I saw `
` nothing peculiar, however. It was an ordinary key of the Yale `
` type, with a bit of twisted wire through the handle. `
` `
` Next, he examined the framework of the door we had broken in, `
` assuring himself that the bolt had really been shot. Then he `
` went to the door opposite leading into Cynthia's room. That door `
` was also bolted, as I had stated. However, he went to the length `
` of unbolting it, and opening and shutting it several times; this `
` he did with the utmost precaution against making any noise. `
` Suddenly something in the bolt itself seemed to rivet his `
` attention. He examined it carefully, and then, nimbly whipping `
` out a pair of small forceps from his case, he drew out some `
` minute particle which he carefully sealed up in a tiny envelope. `
` `
` On the chest of drawers there was a tray with a spirit lamp and a `
` small saucepan on it. A small quantity of a dark fluid remained `
` in the saucepan, and an empty cup and saucer that had been drunk `
` out of stood near it. `
` `
` I wondered how I could have been so unobservant as to overlook `
` this. Here was a clue worth having. Poirot delicately dipped `
` his finger into liquid, and tasted it gingerly. He made a `
` grimace. `
` `
` "Coco--with--I think--rum in it." `
` `
` He passed on to the debris on the floor, where the table by the `
` bed had been overturned. A reading-lamp, some books, matches, a `
` bunch of keys, and the crushed fragments of a coffee-cup lay `
` scattered about. `
` `
` "Ah, this is curious," said Poirot. `
` `
` "I must confess that I see nothing particularly curious about `
` it." `
` `
` "You do not? Observe the lamp--the chimney is broken in two `
` places; they lie there as they fell. But see, the coffee-cup is `
` absolutely smashed to powder." `
` `
` "Well," I said wearily, "I suppose some one must have stepped on `
` it." `
` `
` "Exactly," said Poirot, in an odd voice. "Some one stepped on `
` it." `
` `
` He rose from his knees, and walked slowly across to the `
` mantelpiece, where he stood abstractedly fingering the ornaments, `
` and straightening them--a trick of his when he was agitated. `
` `
` "Mon ami," he said, turning to me, "somebody stepped on that cup, `
` grinding it to powder, and the reason they did so was either `
` because it contained strychnine or--which is far more `
` serious--because it did not contain strychnine!" `
` `
` I made no reply. I was bewildered, but I knew that it was no `
` good asking him to explain. In a moment or two he roused `
` himself, and went on with his investigations. He picked up the `
` bunch of keys from the floor, and twirling them round in his `
` fingers finally selected one, very bright and shining, which he `
` tried in the lock of the purple despatch-case. It fitted, and he `
` opened the box, but after a moment's hesitation, closed and `
` relocked it, and slipped the bunch of keys, as well as the key `
` that had originally stood in the lock, into his own pocket. `
` `
` "I have no authority to go through these papers. But it should `
` be done--at once!" `
` `
` He then made a very careful examination of the drawers of the `
` wash-stand. Crossing the room to the left-hand window, a round `
` stain, hardly visible on the dark brown carpet, seemed to `
` interest him particularly. He went down on his knees, examining `
` it minutely--even going so far as to smell it. `
` `
` Finally, he poured a few drops of the coco into a test tube, `
` sealing it up carefully. His next proceeding was to take out a `
` little notebook. `
` `
` "We have found in this room," he said, writing busily, "six `
` points of interest. Shall I enumerate them, or will you?" `
` `
` "Oh, you," I replied hastily. `
` `
` "Very well, then. One, a coffee-cup that has been ground into `
` powder; two, a despatch-case with a key in the lock; three, a `
` stain on the floor." `
` `
` "That may have been done some time ago," I interrupted. `
` `
` "No, for it is still perceptibly damp and smells of coffee. `
` Four, a fragment of some dark green fabric--only a thread or two, `
` but recognizable." `
` `
` "Ah!" I cried. "That was what you sealed up in the envelope." `
` `
` "Yes. It may turn out to be a piece of one of Mrs. Inglethorp's `
` own dresses, and quite unimportant. We shall see. Five, _this_!" `
` With a dramatic gesture, he pointed to a large splash of candle `
` grease on the floor by the writing-table. "It must have been `
` done since yesterday, otherwise a good housemaid would have at `
` once removed it with blotting-paper and a hot iron. One of my `
` best hats once--but that is not to the point." `
` `
` "It was very likely done last night. We were very agitated. Or `
` perhaps Mrs. Inglethorp herself dropped her candle." `
` `
` "You brought only one candle into the room?" `
` `
` "Yes. Lawrence Cavendish was carrying it. But he was very `
` upset. He seemed to see something over here"--I indicated the `
` mantelpiece--"that absolutely paralysed him." `
` `
` "That is interesting," said Poirot quickly. "Yes, it is `
` suggestive"--his eye sweeping the whole length of the wall--"but `
` it was not his candle that made this great patch, for you `
` perceive that this is white grease; whereas Monsieur Lawrence's `
` candle, which is still on the dressing-table, is pink. On the `
` other hand, Mrs. Inglethorp had no candlestick in the room, only `
` a reading-lamp." `
` `
` "Then," I said, "what do you deduce?" `
` `
` To which my friend only made a rather irritating reply, urging me `
` to use my own natural faculties. `
` `
` "And the sixth point?" I asked. "I suppose it is the sample of `
` coco." `
` `
` "No," said Poirot thoughtfully. "I might have included that in `
` the six, but I did not. No, the sixth point I will keep to `
` myself for the present." `
` `
` He looked quickly round the room. "There is nothing more to be `
` done here, I think, unless"--he stared earnestly and long at the `
` dead ashes in the grate. "The fire burns--and it destroys. But `
` by chance--there might be--let us see!" `
` `
` Deftly, on hands and knees, he began to sort the ashes from the `
` grate into the fender, handling them with the greatest caution. `
` Suddenly, he gave a faint exclamation. `
` `
` "The forceps, Hastings!" `
` `
` I quickly handed them to him, and with skill he extracted a small `
` piece of half charred paper. `
` `
` "There, mon ami!" he cried. "What do you think of that?" `
` `
` I scrutinized the fragment. This is an exact reproduction of it:-- `
` `
` I was puzzled. It was unusually thick, quite unlike ordinary `
` notepaper. Suddenly an idea struck me. `
` `
` "Poirot!" I cried. "This is a fragment of a will!" `
` `
` "Exactly." `
` `
` I looked up at him sharply. `
` `
` "You are not surprised?" `
` `
` "No," he said gravely, "I expected it." `
` `
` I relinquished the piece of paper, and watched him put it away in `
` his case, with the same methodical care that he bestowed on `
` everything. My brain was in a whirl. What was this complication `
` of a will? Who had destroyed it? The person who had left the `
` candle grease on the floor? Obviously. But how had anyone gained `
` admission? All the doors had been bolted on the inside. `
` `
` "Now, my friend," said Poirot briskly, "we will go. I should `
` like to ask a few questions of the parlourmaid--Dorcas, her name `
` is, is it not?" `
` `
` We passed through Alfred Inglethorp's room, and Poirot delayed `
` long enough to make a brief but fairly comprehensive examination `
` of it. We went out through that door, locking both it and that `
` of Mrs. Inglethorp's room as before. `
` `
` I took him down to the boudoir which he had expressed a wish to `
` see, and went myself in search of Dorcas. `
` `
` When I returned with her, however, the boudoir was empty. `
` `
` "Poirot," I cried, "where are you?" `
` `
` "I am here, my friend." `
` `
` He had stepped outside the French window, and was standing, `
` apparently lost in admiration, before the various shaped flower `
` beds. `
` `
` "Admirable!" he murmured. "Admirable! What symmetry! Observe `
` that crescent; and those diamonds--their neatness rejoices the `
` eye. The spacing of the plants, also, is perfect. It has been `
`
` After which piece of moralizing, he resumed his search. `
` `
` A small purple despatch-case, with a key in the lock, on the `
` writing-table, engaged his attention for some time. He took out `
` the key from the lock, and passed it to me to inspect. I saw `
` nothing peculiar, however. It was an ordinary key of the Yale `
` type, with a bit of twisted wire through the handle. `
` `
` Next, he examined the framework of the door we had broken in, `
` assuring himself that the bolt had really been shot. Then he `
` went to the door opposite leading into Cynthia's room. That door `
` was also bolted, as I had stated. However, he went to the length `
` of unbolting it, and opening and shutting it several times; this `
` he did with the utmost precaution against making any noise. `
` Suddenly something in the bolt itself seemed to rivet his `
` attention. He examined it carefully, and then, nimbly whipping `
` out a pair of small forceps from his case, he drew out some `
` minute particle which he carefully sealed up in a tiny envelope. `
` `
` On the chest of drawers there was a tray with a spirit lamp and a `
` small saucepan on it. A small quantity of a dark fluid remained `
` in the saucepan, and an empty cup and saucer that had been drunk `
` out of stood near it. `
` `
` I wondered how I could have been so unobservant as to overlook `
` this. Here was a clue worth having. Poirot delicately dipped `
` his finger into liquid, and tasted it gingerly. He made a `
` grimace. `
` `
` "Coco--with--I think--rum in it." `
` `
` He passed on to the debris on the floor, where the table by the `
` bed had been overturned. A reading-lamp, some books, matches, a `
` bunch of keys, and the crushed fragments of a coffee-cup lay `
` scattered about. `
` `
` "Ah, this is curious," said Poirot. `
` `
` "I must confess that I see nothing particularly curious about `
` it." `
` `
` "You do not? Observe the lamp--the chimney is broken in two `
` places; they lie there as they fell. But see, the coffee-cup is `
` absolutely smashed to powder." `
` `
` "Well," I said wearily, "I suppose some one must have stepped on `
` it." `
` `
` "Exactly," said Poirot, in an odd voice. "Some one stepped on `
` it." `
` `
` He rose from his knees, and walked slowly across to the `
` mantelpiece, where he stood abstractedly fingering the ornaments, `
` and straightening them--a trick of his when he was agitated. `
` `
` "Mon ami," he said, turning to me, "somebody stepped on that cup, `
` grinding it to powder, and the reason they did so was either `
` because it contained strychnine or--which is far more `
` serious--because it did not contain strychnine!" `
` `
` I made no reply. I was bewildered, but I knew that it was no `
` good asking him to explain. In a moment or two he roused `
` himself, and went on with his investigations. He picked up the `
` bunch of keys from the floor, and twirling them round in his `
` fingers finally selected one, very bright and shining, which he `
` tried in the lock of the purple despatch-case. It fitted, and he `
` opened the box, but after a moment's hesitation, closed and `
` relocked it, and slipped the bunch of keys, as well as the key `
` that had originally stood in the lock, into his own pocket. `
` `
` "I have no authority to go through these papers. But it should `
` be done--at once!" `
` `
` He then made a very careful examination of the drawers of the `
` wash-stand. Crossing the room to the left-hand window, a round `
` stain, hardly visible on the dark brown carpet, seemed to `
` interest him particularly. He went down on his knees, examining `
` it minutely--even going so far as to smell it. `
` `
` Finally, he poured a few drops of the coco into a test tube, `
` sealing it up carefully. His next proceeding was to take out a `
` little notebook. `
` `
` "We have found in this room," he said, writing busily, "six `
` points of interest. Shall I enumerate them, or will you?" `
` `
` "Oh, you," I replied hastily. `
` `
` "Very well, then. One, a coffee-cup that has been ground into `
` powder; two, a despatch-case with a key in the lock; three, a `
` stain on the floor." `
` `
` "That may have been done some time ago," I interrupted. `
` `
` "No, for it is still perceptibly damp and smells of coffee. `
` Four, a fragment of some dark green fabric--only a thread or two, `
` but recognizable." `
` `
` "Ah!" I cried. "That was what you sealed up in the envelope." `
` `
` "Yes. It may turn out to be a piece of one of Mrs. Inglethorp's `
` own dresses, and quite unimportant. We shall see. Five, _this_!" `
` With a dramatic gesture, he pointed to a large splash of candle `
` grease on the floor by the writing-table. "It must have been `
` done since yesterday, otherwise a good housemaid would have at `
` once removed it with blotting-paper and a hot iron. One of my `
` best hats once--but that is not to the point." `
` `
` "It was very likely done last night. We were very agitated. Or `
` perhaps Mrs. Inglethorp herself dropped her candle." `
` `
` "You brought only one candle into the room?" `
` `
` "Yes. Lawrence Cavendish was carrying it. But he was very `
` upset. He seemed to see something over here"--I indicated the `
` mantelpiece--"that absolutely paralysed him." `
` `
` "That is interesting," said Poirot quickly. "Yes, it is `
` suggestive"--his eye sweeping the whole length of the wall--"but `
` it was not his candle that made this great patch, for you `
` perceive that this is white grease; whereas Monsieur Lawrence's `
` candle, which is still on the dressing-table, is pink. On the `
` other hand, Mrs. Inglethorp had no candlestick in the room, only `
` a reading-lamp." `
` `
` "Then," I said, "what do you deduce?" `
` `
` To which my friend only made a rather irritating reply, urging me `
` to use my own natural faculties. `
` `
` "And the sixth point?" I asked. "I suppose it is the sample of `
` coco." `
` `
` "No," said Poirot thoughtfully. "I might have included that in `
` the six, but I did not. No, the sixth point I will keep to `
` myself for the present." `
` `
` He looked quickly round the room. "There is nothing more to be `
` done here, I think, unless"--he stared earnestly and long at the `
` dead ashes in the grate. "The fire burns--and it destroys. But `
` by chance--there might be--let us see!" `
` `
` Deftly, on hands and knees, he began to sort the ashes from the `
` grate into the fender, handling them with the greatest caution. `
` Suddenly, he gave a faint exclamation. `
` `
` "The forceps, Hastings!" `
` `
` I quickly handed them to him, and with skill he extracted a small `
` piece of half charred paper. `
` `
` "There, mon ami!" he cried. "What do you think of that?" `
` `
` I scrutinized the fragment. This is an exact reproduction of it:-- `
` `
` I was puzzled. It was unusually thick, quite unlike ordinary `
` notepaper. Suddenly an idea struck me. `
` `
` "Poirot!" I cried. "This is a fragment of a will!" `
` `
` "Exactly." `
` `
` I looked up at him sharply. `
` `
` "You are not surprised?" `
` `
` "No," he said gravely, "I expected it." `
` `
` I relinquished the piece of paper, and watched him put it away in `
` his case, with the same methodical care that he bestowed on `
` everything. My brain was in a whirl. What was this complication `
` of a will? Who had destroyed it? The person who had left the `
` candle grease on the floor? Obviously. But how had anyone gained `
` admission? All the doors had been bolted on the inside. `
` `
` "Now, my friend," said Poirot briskly, "we will go. I should `
` like to ask a few questions of the parlourmaid--Dorcas, her name `
` is, is it not?" `
` `
` We passed through Alfred Inglethorp's room, and Poirot delayed `
` long enough to make a brief but fairly comprehensive examination `
` of it. We went out through that door, locking both it and that `
` of Mrs. Inglethorp's room as before. `
` `
` I took him down to the boudoir which he had expressed a wish to `
` see, and went myself in search of Dorcas. `
` `
` When I returned with her, however, the boudoir was empty. `
` `
` "Poirot," I cried, "where are you?" `
` `
` "I am here, my friend." `
` `
` He had stepped outside the French window, and was standing, `
` apparently lost in admiration, before the various shaped flower `
` beds. `
` `
` "Admirable!" he murmured. "Admirable! What symmetry! Observe `
` that crescent; and those diamonds--their neatness rejoices the `
` eye. The spacing of the plants, also, is perfect. It has been `
`