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II. The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor
“Youheard,Hastings?Andyou,Everett?Oh,bytheway,thisisMr.Everett,ratherafinememberofthetheatricalprofession.I’phonedtohimthisafternoon.Hismake-upisgood,isn’tit?Quitelikethedeadman,andwithapockettorchandthenecessaryphosphorescencehemadetheproperimpression.Ishouldn’ttouchherrighthandifIwereyou,Hastings.Redpaintmarksso.WhenthelightswentoutIclaspedherhand,yousee.Bytheway,wemustn’tmissourtrain.InspectorJappisoutsidethewindow.Abadnight—buthehasbeenabletowhileawaythetimebytappingonthewindoweverynowandthen.”
“Yousee,”continuedPoirot,aswewalkedbrisklythroughthewindandrain,“therewasalittlediscrepancy.ThedoctorseemedtothinkthedeceasedwasaChristianScientist,andwhocouldhavegivenhimthatimpressionbutMrs.Maltravers?Buttoussherepresentedhimasbeinginagravestateofapprehensionabouthisownhealth.Again,whywasshesotakenabackbythereappearanceofyoungBlack?Andlastly,althoughIknowthatconventiondecreesthatawomanmustmakeadecentpretenceofmourningforherhusband,Idonotcareforsuchheavily-rougedeyelids!Youdidnotobservethem,Hastings?No?AsIalwaystellyou,youseenothing!”
“Well,thereitwas.Therewerethetwopossibilities.DidBlack’sstorysuggestaningeniousmethodofcommittingsuicidetoMr.Maltravers,ordidhisotherlistener,thewife,seeanequallyingeniousmethodofcommittingmurder?Iinclinedtothelatterview
