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Chapter IV. Poirot Investigates
“Thereisnothingmoretobedonehere,Ithink,unless”—hestaredearnestlyandlongatthedeadashesinthegrate.“Thefireburns—anditdestroys.Butbychance—theremightbe—letussee!”
Deftly,onhandsandknees,hebegantosorttheashesfromthegrateintothefender,handlingthemwiththegreatestcaution.Suddenly,hegaveafaintexclamation.
“Theforceps,Hastings!”
Iquicklyhandedthemtohim,andwithskillheextractedasmallpieceofhalfcharredpaper.
“There,monami!”hecried.“Whatdoyouthinkofthat?”
Iscrutinizedthefragment.Thisisanexactreproductionofit:—
03
Iwaspuzzled.Itwasunusuallythick,quiteunlikeordinarynotepaper.Suddenlyanideastruckme.
“Poirot!”Icried.“Thisisafragmentofawill!”
“Exactly.”
Ilookedupathimsharply.
“Youarenotsurprised?”
“No,”hesaidgravely,“Iexpectedit.”
Irelinquishedthepieceofpaper,andwatchedhimputitawayinhiscase,withthesamemethodicalcarethathebestowedoneverything.Mybrainwasinawhirl.Whatwasthiscomplicationofawill?Whohaddestroyedit?Thepersonwhohadleftthecandlegreaseonthefloor?Obviously.Buthowhadanyonegainedadmission?Allthedoorshadbeenboltedontheinside.
“Now,myfriend,”saidPoirotbriskly,“wewillgo.Ishouldliketoaskafewquestionsoftheparlourmaid—Dorcas,hernameis,isitnot?”
WepassedthroughAlfredInglethorp’sroom,andPoirotdelayedlongenoughtomakeabriefbutfairlycomprehensiveexaminationofit.
