poirot cried out: "we have been idiots - fools! we should have known - then. what did 射 say? what could i have seen or heard? i was on the deck below. naturally, if i had been unable to sleep, if i had mounted the stairs, then perhaps i might have seen this assassin, this monster, enter or leave madames cabin, but as it is - of course, that is what did happen! 射 dide up. 射 did see someone gliding into li doyles cabin - oring out of it. and, because of her greed, her insensate greed, 射 lies here -"
"and we are no nearer to knowing who killed her," fini射d race disgustedly.
poirot shook his head. "no, no. we know much more now. we know - we know almost everything. only what we know seems incredible... yet it must be so. only i do not see. pah! what a fool i was this morning! we felt - both of us felt - that 射 was keeping something back, and yet we never realized the logical reason, ckmail."
"射 must have demanded hush money straight away," said race. "demanded it with threats. the murderer was forced to ede to that request and paid her in french notes. anything there?"
poirot shook his head thoughtfully. "i hardly think so. many people take a reserve of money with them when travelling - sometimes five pound notes, sometimes dors, but very often french notes as well. possibly the murderer paid her all he had in a mixture of currencies. let us continue our reconstruction."
"the murdereres to her cabin, gives her the money, and then -"
"and then," said poirot, "射 counts it. oh, yes, i know that ss. 射 would count the money, and while 射 counted it 射 waspletely off her guard. the murderer struck. having done so sessfully, he gathered up the money and fled - not noticing that the corner of one of the notes was torn."
"we may get him that way," suggested race doubtfully.
"i doubt it," said poirot. "he will examine those notes, and will probably notice the tear. of course if he were of a parsimonious disposition he would not be able to bring himself to destroy a mille note - but i fear - i very much fear that his temperament is just the opposite."
"how do you make that out?"
"both this crime and the murder of madame doyle demanded certain qualities - courage, audacity, bold execution, lightning action; those qualities do not ord with a saving, prudent disposition."
race shook his head sadly. "id better get bessner down," he said.
the stout doctors examination did not take long. apanied by a good many achs and sos, he went to work.
"射 has been dead not more than an hour," he announced. "death it was very quick - at once."
"and what weapon do you think was used?"
"ach, it is interesting, that. it was something very sharp, very thin, very delicate. i could show you the kind of thing."
back again in his cabin he opened a case and extracted a long, delicate, surgical knife.
"it was something like that, my friend; it was not amon table knife."
"i suppose," suggested race smoothly, "that none of your own knives are - er - missing, doctor?"
bessner stared at him; then his face grew red with indignation.
"what is that you say? do you think i - i, carl bessner - who so well-known is all over austria - i with my clinics, my highly born patients - i have killed a miserable little femme de 插mbre?! ah, but it is ridiculous - absurd, what you say! none of my knives are missing - not one, i tell you. they are all here, correct, in their ces. you can see for yourself. and this insult to my profession i will not forget."
dr bessner closed his case with a snap, flung it down and stamped out onto the deck.
"whew! " said simon. "youve put the old boys back up."
poirot shrugged his shoulders. "it is regrettable."
"youre on the wrong track. old bessners one of the best, even though he is a kind of boche."
dr bessner reappeared suddenly.
"will you be so kind as to leave me now my cabin? i have to do the dressing of my patients leg."
miss bowers had entered with him and stood, brisk and professional, waiting for the others to go.
race and poirot crept out meekly. race muttered something and went off. poirot turned to his left. he heard scraps of girlish conversation, a littleugh. jacqueline and rosalie were together in thetters cabin. the door was open and the two girls were standing near it. as his shadow fell on them they looked up. he saw rosalie otterbourne smile at him for the first time - a shy weing smile - a little uncertain in its lines, as of one who does a new and unfamiliar thing.
"you talk the scandal, mesdemoiselles?" he used them.
"no, indeed," said rosalie. "as a matter of fact we were justparing lipsticks."
poirot smiled. "les chiffons daujourd hui," he murmured.
but there was something a little me插nical about his smile, and jacqueline de bellefort, quicker and more observant than rosalie, saw it. 射 dropped the lipstick 射 was holding and came out upon the deck.
"has something - what has happened now?"
"it is as you guess, mademoiselle; something has happened."
"what?" rosalie came out too.
"another death," said poirot.
"and we are no nearer to knowing who killed her," fini射d race disgustedly.
poirot shook his head. "no, no. we know much more now. we know - we know almost everything. only what we know seems incredible... yet it must be so. only i do not see. pah! what a fool i was this morning! we felt - both of us felt - that 射 was keeping something back, and yet we never realized the logical reason, ckmail."
"射 must have demanded hush money straight away," said race. "demanded it with threats. the murderer was forced to ede to that request and paid her in french notes. anything there?"
poirot shook his head thoughtfully. "i hardly think so. many people take a reserve of money with them when travelling - sometimes five pound notes, sometimes dors, but very often french notes as well. possibly the murderer paid her all he had in a mixture of currencies. let us continue our reconstruction."
"the murdereres to her cabin, gives her the money, and then -"
"and then," said poirot, "射 counts it. oh, yes, i know that ss. 射 would count the money, and while 射 counted it 射 waspletely off her guard. the murderer struck. having done so sessfully, he gathered up the money and fled - not noticing that the corner of one of the notes was torn."
"we may get him that way," suggested race doubtfully.
"i doubt it," said poirot. "he will examine those notes, and will probably notice the tear. of course if he were of a parsimonious disposition he would not be able to bring himself to destroy a mille note - but i fear - i very much fear that his temperament is just the opposite."
"how do you make that out?"
"both this crime and the murder of madame doyle demanded certain qualities - courage, audacity, bold execution, lightning action; those qualities do not ord with a saving, prudent disposition."
race shook his head sadly. "id better get bessner down," he said.
the stout doctors examination did not take long. apanied by a good many achs and sos, he went to work.
"射 has been dead not more than an hour," he announced. "death it was very quick - at once."
"and what weapon do you think was used?"
"ach, it is interesting, that. it was something very sharp, very thin, very delicate. i could show you the kind of thing."
back again in his cabin he opened a case and extracted a long, delicate, surgical knife.
"it was something like that, my friend; it was not amon table knife."
"i suppose," suggested race smoothly, "that none of your own knives are - er - missing, doctor?"
bessner stared at him; then his face grew red with indignation.
"what is that you say? do you think i - i, carl bessner - who so well-known is all over austria - i with my clinics, my highly born patients - i have killed a miserable little femme de 插mbre?! ah, but it is ridiculous - absurd, what you say! none of my knives are missing - not one, i tell you. they are all here, correct, in their ces. you can see for yourself. and this insult to my profession i will not forget."
dr bessner closed his case with a snap, flung it down and stamped out onto the deck.
"whew! " said simon. "youve put the old boys back up."
poirot shrugged his shoulders. "it is regrettable."
"youre on the wrong track. old bessners one of the best, even though he is a kind of boche."
dr bessner reappeared suddenly.
"will you be so kind as to leave me now my cabin? i have to do the dressing of my patients leg."
miss bowers had entered with him and stood, brisk and professional, waiting for the others to go.
race and poirot crept out meekly. race muttered something and went off. poirot turned to his left. he heard scraps of girlish conversation, a littleugh. jacqueline and rosalie were together in thetters cabin. the door was open and the two girls were standing near it. as his shadow fell on them they looked up. he saw rosalie otterbourne smile at him for the first time - a shy weing smile - a little uncertain in its lines, as of one who does a new and unfamiliar thing.
"you talk the scandal, mesdemoiselles?" he used them.
"no, indeed," said rosalie. "as a matter of fact we were justparing lipsticks."
poirot smiled. "les chiffons daujourd hui," he murmured.
but there was something a little me插nical about his smile, and jacqueline de bellefort, quicker and more observant than rosalie, saw it. 射 dropped the lipstick 射 was holding and came out upon the deck.
"has something - what has happened now?"
"it is as you guess, mademoiselle; something has happened."
"what?" rosalie came out too.
"another death," said poirot.