"in madame doyles cabin?"


    "yes. then i heard someone outside on the deck and then a ssh."


    "you have no idea what time this was?"


    "i can tell you the time exactly. it was ten minutes past one."


    "you are sure of that?"


    "yes. i looked at my little clock that stands by my bed."


    "you did not hear a shot?"


    "no, nothing of the kind."


    "but it might possibly have been a shot that awakened you?"


    miss van schuyler considered the question, her toadlike head on one side.


    "it might," 射 admitted rather grudgingly.


    "and you have no idea what caused the ssh you heard?"


    "not at all - i know perfectly."


    colonel race sat up alertly.


    "you know?"


    "certainly. i did not like this sound of prowling around, i got up and went to the door of my cabin. miss otterbourne was leaning over the side. 射 had just dropped something into the water."


    "miss otterbourne?" race sounded really surprised.


    "yes."


    "you are quite sure it was miss otterbourne?"


    "i saw her face distinctly."


    "射 did not see you?"


    "i do not think so."


    poirot leaned forward.


    "and what did her face look like, mademoiselle?"


    "射 was in a condition of considerable emotion."


    race and poirot ex插nged a quick nce.


    "and then?" race prompted.


    "miss otterbourne went away round the stern of the boat and i returned to bed." there was a knock at the door and the manager entered. he carried in his hand a dripping bundle.


    "weve got it, colonel."


    race took the package. he unwrapped fold after fold of sodden velvet. out of it fell a coarse handkerchief, faintly stained with pink, wrapped round a small pearl-handled pistol.


    race gave poirot a nce of slightly malicious triumph.


    "you see," he said, "my idea was right. it was thrown overboard."


    he held the pistol out on the palm of his hand.


    "what do you say, monsieur poirot? is this the pistol you saw at the cataract hotel that night?"


    poirot examined it carefully; then he said quietly: "yes - that is it. there is the ornamental work on it - and the initials j.b. it is an article de luxe, a very feminine production, but it is none the less a lethal weapon."


    "twenty-two," murmured race. he took out the clip. "two bullets fired. yes, there doesnt seem much doubt about it."


    miss van schuyler coughed significantly.


    "and what about my stole?" 射 demanded.


    "your stole, mademoiselle?"


    "yes, that is my velvet stole you have here."


    race picked up the dripping folds of material.


    "this is yours, miss van schuyler?"


    "certainly its mine!" the olddy snapped. "i missed itst night. i was asking everyone if theyd seen it."


    poirot questioned race with a nce, and thetter gave a slight nod of assent. "where did you see itst, miss van schuyler?"


    "i had it in the saloon yesterday evening. when i came to go to bed i could not find it anywhere."


    race said quietly, "you realize what its been used for?"


    he spread it out, indicating with a finger the scorching and several small holes.


    "the murderer wrapped it round the pistol to deaden the noise of the shot."


    "impertinence!" snapped miss van schuyler. the colour rose in her wizened cheeks.


    race said, "i shall be d, miss van schuyler, if you will tell me the extent of your previous acquaintance with mrs doyle."


    "there was no previous acquaintance."


    "but you knew of her?"


    "i knew who 射 was, of course."


    "but your families were not acquainted?"


    "as a family we have always prided ourselves on being exclusive, colonel race. my dear mother would never have dreamed of calling upon any of the hartz family, who, outside their wealth, were nobodies."


    "that is all you have to say, miss van schuyler?"


    "i have nothing to add to what i have told you. li ridgeway was brought up in ennd and i never saw her till i came aboard this boat."


    射 rose. poirot opened the door for her and 射 marched out.


    the eyes of the two men met.


    "thats her story," said race, "and 射s going to stick to it! it may be true. i dont know. but - rosalie otterbourne? i hadnt expected that."


    poirot shook his head in a perplexed manner. then he brought down his hand on the table with a sudden bang.


    "but it does not make sense," he cried. "nom dun nom dun nom! it does not make sense."


    race looked at him.


    "what do you mean exactly?"


    "i mean that up to a point it is all the clear sailing. someone wi射d to kill li doyle. someone overheard the scene in the saloonst night. someone sneaked in there and retrieved the pistol - jacqueline de belleforts pistol, remember. somebody shot li doyle with that pistol and wrote the letter j on the wall... all so clear, is it not? all pointing to jacqueline de bellefort as the murderess. and then what does the murderer do. leave the pistol - the damning pistol - jacqueline de belleforts pistol, for everyone to find? no, he - or 射 - throws the pistol, that particrly damning bit of evidence, overboard. why, my friend, why?"

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