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Updated: May 23, 2025
Hearing a slight noise in the West wing, she had peeped along the passage, and had seen Mr. John Cavendish knocking at Mrs. Inglethorp's door. Sir Ernest Heavywether made short work of her, and under his unmerciful bullying she contradicted herself hopelessly, and Sir Ernest sat down again with a satisfied smile on his face.
Inglethorp's medicine was always extremely careful not to shake the bottle, but to leave the sediment at the bottom of it undisturbed. "Throughout the case, there have been evidences that the tragedy was intended to take place on Monday evening. On that day, Mrs. Inglethorp's bell wire was neatly cut, and on Monday evening Mademoiselle Cynthia was spending the night with friends, so that Mrs.
We had rather a scramble to get ready in time; and before the meal was over the motor was waiting at the door. The entertainment was a great success, Mrs. Inglethorp's recitation receiving tremendous applause. There were also some tableaux in which Cynthia took part.
The still feebly flickering ashes in the grate, and the row of prim ornaments on the mantelpiece, were surely harmless enough. The violence of Mrs. Inglethorp's attack seemed to be passing. She was able to speak in short gasps. "Better now very sudden stupid of me to lock myself in." A shadow fell on the bed and, looking up, I saw Mary Cavendish standing near the door with her arm around Cynthia.
It was rather a curious document. A plain, dirty looking old envelope with a few words scrawled across it, apparently at random. The following is a facsimile of it. "Where did you find this?" I asked Poirot, in lively curiosity. "In the waste-paper basket. You recognise the handwriting?" "Yes, it is Mrs. Inglethorp's. But what does it mean?" Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
It is a very difficult situation for you, Mr. Cavendish. I would like to ask you one question. Mr. Inglethorp's reason for not returning last night was, I believe, that he had forgotten the latch-key. Is not that so?" "Yes." "I suppose you are quite sure that the latch-key was forgotten that he did not take it after all?" "I have no idea. I never thought of looking.
There must be more in this affair of Inglethorp's with Mrs. Raikes than we thought, to make him hold his tongue so persistently. What are you going to do now? Where are the Scotland Yard fellows?" "Gone down to interview the servants. I showed them all our exhibits. I am disappointed in Japp. He has no method!" "Hullo!" I said, looking out of the window. "Here's Dr. Bauerstein.
John rattled the handle of Mrs. Inglethorp's door violently, but with no effect. It was obviously locked or bolted on the inside. The whole household was aroused by now. The most alarming sounds were audible from the interior of the room. Clearly something must be done. "Try going through Mr. Inglethorp's room, sir," cried Dorcas. "Oh, the poor mistress!"
Inglethorp's." "Ah!" He tried the roll top tentatively. "Locked. But perhaps one of Mrs. Inglethorp's keys would open it." He tried several, twisting and turning them with a practiced hand, and finally uttering an ejaculation of satisfaction. "Voila! It is not the key, but it will open it at a pinch." He slid back the roll top, and ran a rapid eye over the neatly filed papers.
"Will you relate to us exactly what happened next?" "I entered Mrs. Inglethorp's room. She was at that moment in a typical tetanic convulsion. She turned towards me, and gasped out: 'Alfred Alfred " "Could the strychnine have been administered in Mrs. Inglethorp's after-dinner coffee which was taken to her by her husband?" "Possibly, but strychnine is a fairly rapid drug in its action.
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