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CHAPTER IX. DR. BAUERSTEIN
I HAD had no opportunity as yet of passing on Poirot's message to
Lawrence. But now, as I strolled out on the lawn, still nursing a grudge
against my friend's high-handedness, I saw Lawrence on the croquet lawn,
aimlessly knocking a couple of very ancient balls about, with a still more
ancient mallet.
It struck me that it would be a good opportunity to deliver my message.
Otherwise, Poirot himself might relieve me of it. It was true that I did not
quite gather its purport, but I flattered myself that by Lawrence's reply, and
perhaps a little skillful cross-examination on my part, I should soon perceive
its significance. Accordingly I accosted him.
"
"
"
"
"
I've been looking for you," I remarked untruthfully.
Have you?"
Yes. The truth is, I've got a message for you--from Poirot."
Yes?"
He told me to wait until I was alone with you," I said, dropping my voice
significantly, and watching him intently out of the corner of my eye. I have
always been rather good at what is called, I believe, creating an atmosphere.
"
Well?"
There was no change of expression in the dark melancholic face. Had he any
idea of what I was about to say?
"
This is the message." I dropped my voice still lower. "'Find the extra coffee-
cup, and you can rest in peace.'"
"
What on earth does he mean?" Lawrence stared at me in quite unaffected
astonishment.
"
"
Don't you know?"
Not in the least. Do you?"
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