The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories

Our next visit was to the doctor who had exam, ined the body. His evidence was a mere recapitula, tion of what he had already given at the inquest. Deceased had been stabbed to the heart with long thin knife something like a stiletto. The knife had been left in the wound. Death had been in,

stantaneous. The knife was the property of Major Rich and usually lay on his writing table. Ther

were no fingerprints on it, the doctor understood, It had been either wiped or held in a handkerchief. As regards time, any time between seven and hint seemed indicated.

"He could not, for instance, have been kille after midnight?" asked Poirot.

"No. That I can say. Ten o'clock at the outsid --but seven-thirty to eight seems clearly indi, cated."

"There is a second hypothesis possible," Poirol said when we were back home. "I wonder if y0

46 Agatha Christie

see it, Hastings. To me it is very plain, and I only need one point to clear up the matter for good and all. ' '

"It's no good," I said. "I'm not there."

"But make an effort, Hastings. Make an ef-fort.''

"Very well," I said. "At seven-forty Clayton is alive and well. The last person to see him alive is Rich--"

"So we assume."

"Well, isn't it so?"

"You forget, rnon ami, that Major Rich denies that. He states explicitly that Clayton had gone when he came in"

"But the valet says that he would have heard Clayton leave because of the bang of the door. And also, if Clayton had left, when did he return? He couldn't have returned after midnight because the doctor says positively that he was dead at least two hours before that. That only leaves one alter-native."

"Yes, rnon ami?" said Poirot.

"That in the five minutes Clayton was alone in

the sitting room, someone else came in and killed him. But there we have the same objection. Only someone with a key could come in without the valet's knowing, and in the same way the mur-derer on leaving would have had to bang the door, and that again the valet would have heard."

"Exactly," said Poirot. "And therefore--"

"And therefore--nothing," I said. "I can see no other solution."

"It is a pity," murmured Poirot. "And it is

THE MYSTERY OF THE BAGDAD CHEST 47

really so exceedingly simple--as the clear blue eyes of Madame Clayton."

"You really believe--"

"I believe nothing--until I have got proof. One

little proof will convince me."

He took up the telephone and called japp at Scotland Yard.

Twenty minutes later we were standing before a little heap of assorted objects laid out on a table. They were the contents of the dead man's pockets.

There was a handkerchief, a handful of loose change, a pocketbook containing three pounds ten shillings, a couple of bills and a worn snapshot of Marguerita Clayton. There was also a pocket-knife, a gold pencil and a cumbersome wooden tool.

It was on this latter that Poirot swooped. He unscrewed it and several small blades fell out.

"You see, Hastings, a gimlet and all the rest of it. Ah! it would be a matter of a very few minutes

to bore a few holes in the chest with this.' "Those holes we saw?" "Precisely."

"You mean it was Clayton who bored them himself?''

"Mais, ouimrnais, oui! What did they suggest to you, those holes? They were not to see through, because they were at the back of the chest. What were they for, then? Clearly for air? But you do not make air holes for a dead body, so clearly they were not made by the murderer. They suggest one thing--and one thing only--that a man was going to hide in that chest. And at once, on that hypoth

48 Agatha Christie

esis, things become ifitelligible. Mr. Clayton is jealous of his wife and Rich. He plays the old, old trick of pretending to go away. He watches Rich go out, then he gains admission, is left alone to write a note, quickly bores those holes and hides inside the chest. His wife is coming there that night. Possibly Rich will put the others off, possi-bly she will remain after the others have gone, or

pretend to go and return. Whatever it is, Clayton will know. Anything is preferable to the ghastly

torment of suspicion he is enduring."

"Then you mean that Rich killed him after the others had gone? But the doctor said that was im-possible.''

"Exactly. So you see, Hastings, he must have been killed during the evening."

"But everyone was in the room!"

"Precisely," said Poirot gravely. "You see the beauty of that? 'Everyone was in the room.' What an alibi! What sangfroid--what nerve--what au-dacity!''

"I still don't understand." . "Who went behind that screen to wind up the phonograph and change the records? The phono-graph and the chest were side by side, remember. The others are dancing--the phonograph is play-ing. And the man who does not dance lifts the lid of the chest and thrusts the knife he has just .slipped into his sleeve deep into the body of the man who was hiding there."

"Impossible! The man would cry out."

"Not if he were drugged first?" "Drugged?"

"Yes. Who did Clayton have a drink with at

THE MYSTERY OF THE BAGDAD CHEST 49