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Never should. What do they know? Nothing at all--or just enough to make

them dangerous. I ought to know--my own father was a doctor. That little

Wilkins is about the greatest fool that even I have ever seen. Heart seizure!

Sort of thing he would say. Anyone with any sense could see at once that

her husband had poisoned her. I always said he'd murder her in her bed,

poor soul. Now he's done it. And all you can do is to murmur silly things

about 'heart seizure' and 'inquest on Friday.' You ought to be ashamed of

yourself, John Cavendish."

What do you want me to do?" asked John, unable to help a faint smile.

Dash it all, Evie, I can't haul him down to the local police station by the

scruff of his neck."

Well, you might do something. Find out how he did it. He's a crafty beggar.

Dare say he soaked fly papers. Ask Cook if she's missed any."

It occurred to me very forcibly at that moment that to harbour Miss Howard

and Alfred Inglethorp under the same roof, and keep the peace between

them, was likely to prove a Herculean task, and I did not envy John. I could

see by the expression of his face that he fully appreciated the difficulty of the

position. For the moment, he sought refuge in retreat, and left the room

precipitately.

Dorcas brought in fresh tea. As she left the room, Poirot came over from the

window where he had been standing, and sat down facing Miss Howard.

Mademoiselle," he said gravely, "I want to ask you something."

Ask away," said the lady, eyeing him with some disfavour.

I want to be able to count upon your help."

I'll help you to hang Alfred with pleasure," she replied gruffly. "Hanging's

too good for him. Ought to be drawn and quartered, like in good old times."

We are at one then," said Poirot, "for I, too, want to hang the criminal."

Alfred Inglethorp?"

Him, or another."

No question of another. Poor Emily was never murdered until he came

The Mysterious Affair at Styles