"Foreigners I" thought Lans...o...b.. bitterly. "Foreigners in the house I And Mrs. Leo with concussion I I don't know what we're coming to. Nothing's the same since Mr. Richard died."

Hercule Poirot was dressed by the time he received his coffee-from Janet. His murmurs of sympathy were well received, since he stressed the shock her discovery must have given her.

"Yes, indeed, sir, what I felt when I opened the door of the study and came in with the Hoover and saw Mrs. Leo lying there I never shah forget. There she lay--and I made sure she was dead. She must have been taken faint as she stood at the phone--and fancy her being up at that time in the morning I I've never known her do such a thing before."

"Fancy, indeed " He added casually: "No one else was up, I suppose ?"

"As it happens, sir, Mrs. Timothy was up and about. She's a very early riser always--often goes for a walk before brek-fast."

"She is of the generation that rises early," said Poirot nodding his head. "The younger ones, now--4hy do not get up so early ?"

o, mcteea, sir, all fast asleep when I brought them their tea--and very late I was, too, what with the shock and getting the doctor to come and having to have a cup first to steady myself."

She went off and Poirot reflected on what she had said.

I59

Maude Aberuethie had been up and about, and the younger generation had been in bed--but that, Poirot reflected, meant nothing at all. Anyone could have heard Helen's door open and close, and have followed her down to listen--and would afterwards have made, a point of being fa, st asleep in bed.

"But if I am right, ' thought Poirot. And after all, it is natural to me to be right--it is a habit I have l--then there is no need to go into who was here and who was there. First, I must seek a proof where I have deduced the proof may be.

And then--I mak,e, my little speech. And I sit back and see what happens...

As soon as Janet had left the room, Poirot drained his coffee cup, put on his overcoat and his hat, left his room, rannimbly down the back staffs and left the house by the side door. He walked briskly the quarter-mile to the post office where he demanded a trunk call. Presently he was once more speaking to Mr. Entwhistle.

"Yes, it is I yet again I Pay no attention to the commission with which I entrusted you. CYtait unt blague/ Someone was listening. Now, mon viex, to the real commission.

You must, as I said, take a train. But not to Bury St. Edmunds. I want you to proceed to the house of Mr.

Timgthy Abernethie."

"But Timothy and Maude are at Enderby."

"Exactly. There is no one in the house but a woman by the name of Jones who has been persuaded by the offer (t siderable largssto guard the house whilst they are absent; at I want you to do is to take something out of that house! ' "My dear Poirot I I really can't stoop to burglary I" "It will not seem like burglary. You will say to the excellent Mrs. Jones who knows you, that you have been asked by Mr. or Mrs., Abernethie to fetch this particular object and take it to London. She will not suspect anything amiss."

"No, no, probably not. But I'don't like it." Mr. Entwhistle sounded most reluctant. "Why can't you go and get whatever it is yourself."

"Because, my friend, I should be a stranger of foreign appearance and as such a suspicious character, and Mrs. Jones would at once raise the difficulties I With you, she will not."

"No, no--I see that. But what on earth are Timothy and Maude going to think when th,,ey hear about it ? I have known them for forty odd years.

"And you knew Richard Abernethie for that time also, l And you knew Cora Lansquenet when she was a little girl I '

In a martyred voice Mr. Entwhistle asked: x6o

,' You're sure this is really necessary, Poirot ?"

"The old question they asked in the wrtime on the Is .you.r journey really ncessary ? I say t you, it is nosterS.essary.

It Poirot told him.

"But really, Poirot, I don't see "It is not necessary for you to see. I an doing the [ , ,, "And what do you want me to do with the eemg.

/amned thing ?"

"You will take it to London, to an addr? in E Gardens. If you have a pencil, note it down.

Park Having done so, Mr. Entwhistle said, still in his lkrtyred voice:

"I hope you know what you are doing, ,Pokot ?"

He sounded Very doubtulmbut Poirot s reply

doubtful at all.

as not "Of course I know what I am doing. We are nea&ing the end."

Mr. Entwhistle sighed: "If we could only guess what Helen was going to t:[l1 me."

"No need to guess. I know."

"You know ? But my dear Poirot"

"Explanations must wait. But let me a.s.sure yota

I know what Helen A bernethie saw trhn she looked if this.

mirror."

in her

Breakfast had been an uneasy meal. Neither Rot

nor Timothy had appeared, but the others were there h'amund

talked in rather subdued tones and eaten a little leX, nd had '

s than

they normally would have done.

George was the first one to recover his spirits.

perament was mercurial and optimistic, tern''

I expect Aunt Helen will be all right," he s,aid. "Ix always like to pull a long face. After all, what s conc/:Jocrors Often clears up completely in a couple of days."

lssion ?

"A woman I knew had concussion during the wa Miss Gilchrist conversationally. "A brick or somet}id' said

her as she was walking down Tottenham Court Roading hit

during fly bomb time--and she never felt anything qt was

Jus. t went on with what she was doingand collaps!a,t, all.

tram to Liverpool twelve hours later. And would you .ct m a

it, she had no recollection at all of going to the statlbelieve

bn and ...

z6z

IF

catching the train or anything. She just couldn't understand it when she woke up in hospital. She was there for nearly three weeks."

"What I can't make out," said Susan, "is what Helen was doing telephoning at that unearthly hour, and who she was telephoning to ?"

"Felt ill," said Mande with decision." Probably woke up feeling queer and came down to ring up the doctor. Then had a giddy fit and fell. That's the only thing that makes sense."

"Bad luck hitting her head on that doorstop," said Michael. "If she'd just pitched over on to that thick pile carpet she'd have been all right."

The door opened and Rosamund ,crime in, frow,ning.

"I can't find those wax flowers, she said. ' I mean th:e ones that were standing on the malachite table the day of Uncle Richard's funeral." She looked accusingly at Susan. "You haven't taken them ?"

"Of course I haven't 1 Really, Rosamund, you're not still thinking about malachite tables with poor old Helen carted off,,t hoslital with concussion, ?"

don t see why I shouldn t think about them. If you've got concussion you don't know what's happening and it doesn't matter to you. We can't do anything for Aunt Helen, and Michael and I have got to get back to London by tomorrow lunch-time because we're seeing Jackie Lygo about lSehing dates for The Baronet's Progr.e, ss. So I'd like to fix up definitely about the table. But I d like to have a look at those wax flowers again. There's a kind of Chinese vase on the table now--nice--but not nearly so period. I do wonder where they are--perhaps Lans...o...b.. knows."