"H'm," said Battle. "I mustn't say so officially, but I'm not sorry. She was a--well, she was a lady. I don't know what her reasons were for killing Shaitana, but she may just conceivably have been justified."

"In any case," said Poirot, "it is doubtful if she would have lived to stand her trial. She was a very ill woman."

The surgeon nodded in agreement.

"I should say you were quite right. Well, perhaps it is all for the best."

He started down the stairs.

Battle moved after him.

"One minute, doctor."

Poirot, his hand on the bedroom door, murmured, "I may enter--yes?"

Battle nodded over his shoulder. "Quite all right. We're through." Poirot pa.s.sed into the room, closing the door behind him ....

He went over to the bed and stood looking down at the quiet, dead face.

He was very disturbed.

Had the dead woman gone to the grave in a last determined effort to save a young girl from death and disgrace---or was there a different, a more sinister explanation?

There were certain facts ....

Suddenly he bent down, examining a dark, diseoloured bruise on the dead woman's arm.

He straightened himself up again. There was a strange, cat-like gleam in his eyes that certain close a.s.sociates of his would have recognised.

He left the room quickly and went downstairs. Battle and a subordinate were

at the telephone. The latter laid down the receiver and said: "He hasn't come back, sir."

Battle said:

"Despard. I've been trying to get him. There's a letter for him with the Chelsea postmark all right."

Poirot asked an irrelevant question.

"Had Dr. Roberts had his breakfast when he came here?"

Battle stared. '

"No," he said, "I remember he mentioned that he'd come out without it." "Then he will be at his house now. We can get him." "But why--?"

But Poirot was already busy at the dial. Then he spoke:

"Dr. Roberts? It is Dr. Roberts speaking? Mais oui, it is Poirot here. Just one question. Are you well acquainted with the handwriting of Mrs. Lorrimer?"

"Mrs. Lorrimer's handwriting? I--no, I don't know that I'd ever seen it before."

'Je vous remercie."

Poirot laid down the receiver quickly.

Battle was staring at him.

"What's the big idea, M. Poirot?" he asked quietly.

Poirot took him by the arm.

"Listen, my friend. A few minutes after I left this house yesterday Anne Meredith arrived. I actually saw her going up the steps, though I was not quite

487

sure of her ident.i.ty at the time. Immediately after Anne Meredith left Mrs.

Lorrimer went to bed. As far as the maid knows, she did not write any letters then. And, for reasons which you will understand when I recount to.you our interview, I do not believe that she wrote those three letters before my visit. When did she write them, then?"

"After the servants had gone to bed?" suggested Battle. "She got up and posted them herself."

"That is possible, yes, but there is another possibility--that she did not write them at all."

Battle whistled.

"My G.o.d, you mean.--"

The telephone trilled. The sergeant picked up the receiver. He listened a minute, then turned to Battle.

"Sergeant O'Connor speaking from Despard's flat, sir. There's reason to believe that Despard's down at WallingfordonThames."

Poirot caught Battle by the arm.

"Quickly, my friend. We, too, must go to Wallingford. I tell you, I am not easy in my mind. This may not be the end. I tell you again, my friend, this young lady, she is dangerous."

CHAPTER 29

Accident

"Arm, imm?,, l," said Rhoda.

"No, really, Anne, don't answer with half your mind on a crossword puzzlel I want you to attend to me."

"I am attending."

Anne sat bolt upright and put down the paper.

"That's better. Look here, Anne." Bhoda hesitated. "About this man coming."

"Superintendent Battle?"

"Yes. Anne, I wish you'd tell him--about being at the Bensons'."

Anne's voice grew rather cold.

"Nonsense. Why should I?"

"Becausewell, it might look--as though you'd been keeping something back. I'm sure it would be better to mention it." "I can't very well now," said Anne coldly. "I wish you had in the first place."

"Well, it's too late to bother about that now."

"Yes." Rhoda did not sound convinced.

Anne said rather irritably: "In any case, I can't see why. It's got nothing to do with all this."

"No, of course not."

"I was only there about two months. He only wants these things as--well--references.