Hercule Poirot's Casebook

'Now, Miss Plenderleith, I am going to tell you just how I

arrived at the truth in this matter.'

She looked, from Poirot to Japp. The latter was smiling.

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'He has his methods, Miss Plenderleith,' he said. 'I humour

him, you know. I think we'll listen to what he has to say.'

Poirot began:

'As you know, mademoiselle, I arrived with my friend at the

scene of the crime on the morning of November the sixth. Te

went into the room where the body of Mrs Allen had been

found and I.was struck at once by several significant details.

There were things, you see, in that room that were decidedly

odd.'

'Go on,' said the girl.

'To begin with,' said Poirot, 'there w the smell of cigarette

smoke.'

'I think you're exaggerating there, Poirot,' said Japp. 'I

didn't smell anything.'

Poirot turned on him in a flash.

'Precisely. You did not smell any stale smoke. No more did I. And that was very, very strange - for the door and the window

were both closed and on an ashtray there were the stubs of no

fewer than ten cigarettes. It was odd, very odd, that the room

should smell - as it did, perfectly fresh.'

'So that's what you were getting at!' Japp sighed. 'Always

have to get at things in such a tortuous way.'

'Your Sherlock Holmes did the same. He drew attention,

remember, to the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime - and the answer to that was there was no curious incident. The

dog did nothing in the night-time. To proceed:

'The next thing that attracted my attention was a wristwatch

worn by the dead woman.'

'What about it?'

'Nothing particular about .it, but it was worn on the

wrist. Now in my experience it is more usual for a watch to be

worn on the left wrist.'

Japp shrugged his shoulders. Before he could speak, Poi,

hurried on:

'But as you say, there is nothing very definite about that.

Some people prefer to wear one on the right hand. And now I

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come to something really interesting - I come, my friends, to

the writing-bureau.'

'Yes, I guessed that,' said JapP.

'That was really very odd - very remarkable! For two

reasons. The first reason was that something was missing from

that writing-table.'

Jane Plenderleith spoke.

'What was missing?'

Poirot turned to her.

'/1 sheet of blotting-paper, mademoiselle. The blotting-book

had on top a clean, untouched piece of blotting-paper.'

Jane shrugged her shoulders.

'Really, M. Poirot. People do occasionally tear off a very

much used sheet?

'Yes, but what do they do with it? Throw it into the wastepaper

basket, do they not? But it was not in the wastepaper basket. I looked.'

lane Plenderleith seemed impatient.

'Because it had probably been already thrown away the day

before. The sheet was clean because Barbara hadn't written

any letters that day.'

'That could hardly be the case, mademoiselle. For Mrs Allen

was seen going to the post-box that evening. Therefore she must

have been writing letters. She could not write downstairs - there

were no writing materials. She would be hardly likely to go to your room to write. So, then, what had happened to the sheet

of paper on which she had blotted her letters? It is true that

people sometimes throw things in the fire instead of the wastepaper

basket, but there was only a gas fire in the room. And the fire downstairs had not been alight the previous day, dnce you told

me it was all laid ready when you put a match to it.'

He paused.

'A curious little problem. I looked everywhere, in the wastepaper

baskets, in the dustbin, but I could not fred a sheet of

used blotting-paper - and that seemed to me very important. It

looked as though someone had deliberately taken that sheet of

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blotting paper away. Why? Because there was writing on it that

could easily have been read by holding it up to a mirror.

'But there was a second curious point about the writing-table.

Perhaps, Japp, you remember roughly the arrangement

of it? Blotter and inkstand in the centre, pen tray to the left,

calendar and quill pen to the right. Eh b/en? You do not see?

The quill pen, remember, I examined, it was for show only - it

had not been used. Ah! still you do not see? I will say it again.

Blotter in the centre, pen tray to the left - to the left, Japp. But

is it not usual to find a pen tray on the right, convenient to the

right hand?.

'Ah, now it comes to you, does it not? The pen tray on the left

- the wrist-watch on the right wrist - the blotting-paper

removed - and something else brought into the room - the

ashtray with the cigarette ends!

'That room was fresh and pure smelling, Japp, a room in

which the window had been open, not closed all night... Anti

I made myself a picture.'

He spun round and faced Jane.

'A picture of you, mademoiselle, driving up in your taxi,

paying it off, running up the stairs, calling perhaps, 'Barbara'

- and you open the door and you fred your friend there lying

dead with the pistol clasped in her hand - the left hand,

naturally, since she is left-handed and therefore, too, the bullet

has entered on the left ride of the head. There is a note there

addressed to you. It tells you what it is that has driven her to