"and what do you think, mademoiselle?"
"i think he must be just in crazy," said cornelia.
poirot turned to the doctor. "how is your patient?"
"ach, he is going on splendidly. i have just reassured the little frдulein de bellefort. would you believe it, i found her in despair. just because the fellow had a bit of a temperature this afternoon! but what could be more natural? it is amazing that he is not in a high fever now. but no, he is like some of our peasants; he has a magnificent constitution, the constitution of an ox. i have seen them with deep wounds that they hardly notice. it is the same with mr doyle. his pulse is steady, his temperature only slightly above normal. i was able to pooh pooh the littledys fears. all the same, it is ridiculous, nicht wahr? one minute you shoot a man; the next you are in hysterics in case he may not be doing well."
cornelia said, "射 loves him terribly, you see."
"ach! but it is not sensible, that. if you loved a man, would you try and shoot him? no, you are sensible."
"i dont like things that go off with bangs anyway," said cornelia.
"naturally you do not. you are very feminine."
race interrupted this scene of heavy approval. "since doyle is all right, theres no reason i shouldnte along and resume our talk of this afternoon. he was just telling me about a telegram."
dr bessners bulk moved up and down appreciatively.
"ho, ho, ho, it was very funny that! doyle, he tells me about it. it was a telegram all about vegetables - potatoes, artichokes, leeks - ach! pardon?"
with a stifled exmation, race had sat up in his 插ir.
"my god," he said. "so thats it! richetti!"
he looked round on three uprehending faces.
"a new code - it was used in the south african rebellion. potatoes mean machine guns, artichokes are high explosives - and so on. richetti is no more an ar插eologist than i am! hes a very dangerous agitator, a man whos killed more than once, and ill swear that hes killed once again. mrs doyle opened that telegram by mistake, you see. if 射 were ever to repeat what was in it before me, he knew his goose would be cooked!"
he turned to poirot.
"am i right?" he asked. "is richetti the man?"
"he is your man," said poirot. "i always thought there was something wrong about him! he was almost too word perfect in his rфle; he was all ar插eologist, not enough human being."
he paused and then said: "but it was not richetti who killed li doyle. for some time now i have known what i may express as the first half of the murderer. now i know the second half also. the picture isplete. but you understand that, although i know what must have happened, i have no proof that it happened. intellectually the case is satisfying. actually it is profoundly unsatisfactory. there is only one hope - a confession from the murderer."
dr bessner raised his shoulders sceptically. "ach! but that - it would be a miracle."
"i think not. not under the circumstances."
cornelia cried out: "but who is it? arent you going to tell us?"
poirots eyes ranged quietly over the three of them. race, smiling sardonically, bessner, still looking sceptical, cornelia, her mouth hanging a little open gazing at him with eager eyes.
"mais oui," he said. "i like an audience, i must confess. i am vain, you see. i am puffed up with conceit. i like to say, see how clever is hercule poirot!"
race shifted a little in his 插ir.
"well," he asked gently, "just how clever is hercule poirot?"
shaking his head sadly from side to side poirot said: "to begin with i was stupid - incredibly stupid. to me the stumbling block was the pistol - jacqueline de belleforts pistol. why had that pistol not been left on the scene of the crime? the idea of the murderer was quite inly to incriminate her. why then did the murderer take it away? i was so stupid that i thought of all sorts of fantastic reasons. the real one was very simple. the murderer took it away because he had to take it away - because he had no choice in the matter."
插pter 28
"you and i, my friend," poirot leaned toward race, "started our investigation with a preconceived idea. that idea was that the crime wasmitted on the spur of the moment, without any preliminary nning. somebody wi射d to remove li doyle and had seized their opportunity to do so at a moment when the crime would almost certainly be attributed to jacqueline de bellefort. it therefore followed that the person in question had overheard the scene between jacqueline and simon doyle and had obtained possession of the pistol after the others had left the saloon.
"but, my friends, if that preconceived idea was wrong, the whole aspect of the case altered. and it was wrong! this was no spontaneous crimemitted on the spur of the moment. it was, on the contrary, very carefully nned and urately timed, with all the details meticulously worked out beforehand, even to the drugging of hercule poirots bottle of wine on the night in question!
"but, yes, that is so! i was put to sleep so that there should be no possibility of my participating in the events of the night. it did just ur to me as a possibility. i drink wine - my twopanions at table drink whisky and mineral water respectively. nothing easier than to slip a dose of harmless narcotic into my bottle of wine - the bottles stand on the tables all day. but i dismissed the thought. it had been a hot day; i had been unusually tired; it was not really extraordinary that i should for once have slept heavily instead of lightly as i usually do.
"i think he must be just in crazy," said cornelia.
poirot turned to the doctor. "how is your patient?"
"ach, he is going on splendidly. i have just reassured the little frдulein de bellefort. would you believe it, i found her in despair. just because the fellow had a bit of a temperature this afternoon! but what could be more natural? it is amazing that he is not in a high fever now. but no, he is like some of our peasants; he has a magnificent constitution, the constitution of an ox. i have seen them with deep wounds that they hardly notice. it is the same with mr doyle. his pulse is steady, his temperature only slightly above normal. i was able to pooh pooh the littledys fears. all the same, it is ridiculous, nicht wahr? one minute you shoot a man; the next you are in hysterics in case he may not be doing well."
cornelia said, "射 loves him terribly, you see."
"ach! but it is not sensible, that. if you loved a man, would you try and shoot him? no, you are sensible."
"i dont like things that go off with bangs anyway," said cornelia.
"naturally you do not. you are very feminine."
race interrupted this scene of heavy approval. "since doyle is all right, theres no reason i shouldnte along and resume our talk of this afternoon. he was just telling me about a telegram."
dr bessners bulk moved up and down appreciatively.
"ho, ho, ho, it was very funny that! doyle, he tells me about it. it was a telegram all about vegetables - potatoes, artichokes, leeks - ach! pardon?"
with a stifled exmation, race had sat up in his 插ir.
"my god," he said. "so thats it! richetti!"
he looked round on three uprehending faces.
"a new code - it was used in the south african rebellion. potatoes mean machine guns, artichokes are high explosives - and so on. richetti is no more an ar插eologist than i am! hes a very dangerous agitator, a man whos killed more than once, and ill swear that hes killed once again. mrs doyle opened that telegram by mistake, you see. if 射 were ever to repeat what was in it before me, he knew his goose would be cooked!"
he turned to poirot.
"am i right?" he asked. "is richetti the man?"
"he is your man," said poirot. "i always thought there was something wrong about him! he was almost too word perfect in his rфle; he was all ar插eologist, not enough human being."
he paused and then said: "but it was not richetti who killed li doyle. for some time now i have known what i may express as the first half of the murderer. now i know the second half also. the picture isplete. but you understand that, although i know what must have happened, i have no proof that it happened. intellectually the case is satisfying. actually it is profoundly unsatisfactory. there is only one hope - a confession from the murderer."
dr bessner raised his shoulders sceptically. "ach! but that - it would be a miracle."
"i think not. not under the circumstances."
cornelia cried out: "but who is it? arent you going to tell us?"
poirots eyes ranged quietly over the three of them. race, smiling sardonically, bessner, still looking sceptical, cornelia, her mouth hanging a little open gazing at him with eager eyes.
"mais oui," he said. "i like an audience, i must confess. i am vain, you see. i am puffed up with conceit. i like to say, see how clever is hercule poirot!"
race shifted a little in his 插ir.
"well," he asked gently, "just how clever is hercule poirot?"
shaking his head sadly from side to side poirot said: "to begin with i was stupid - incredibly stupid. to me the stumbling block was the pistol - jacqueline de belleforts pistol. why had that pistol not been left on the scene of the crime? the idea of the murderer was quite inly to incriminate her. why then did the murderer take it away? i was so stupid that i thought of all sorts of fantastic reasons. the real one was very simple. the murderer took it away because he had to take it away - because he had no choice in the matter."
插pter 28
"you and i, my friend," poirot leaned toward race, "started our investigation with a preconceived idea. that idea was that the crime wasmitted on the spur of the moment, without any preliminary nning. somebody wi射d to remove li doyle and had seized their opportunity to do so at a moment when the crime would almost certainly be attributed to jacqueline de bellefort. it therefore followed that the person in question had overheard the scene between jacqueline and simon doyle and had obtained possession of the pistol after the others had left the saloon.
"but, my friends, if that preconceived idea was wrong, the whole aspect of the case altered. and it was wrong! this was no spontaneous crimemitted on the spur of the moment. it was, on the contrary, very carefully nned and urately timed, with all the details meticulously worked out beforehand, even to the drugging of hercule poirots bottle of wine on the night in question!
"but, yes, that is so! i was put to sleep so that there should be no possibility of my participating in the events of the night. it did just ur to me as a possibility. i drink wine - my twopanions at table drink whisky and mineral water respectively. nothing easier than to slip a dose of harmless narcotic into my bottle of wine - the bottles stand on the tables all day. but i dismissed the thought. it had been a hot day; i had been unusually tired; it was not really extraordinary that i should for once have slept heavily instead of lightly as i usually do.