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Chapter III. The Night Of The Tragedy
”
“Well?”
“YouremembermyspeakingofmyfriendPoirot?TheBelgianwhoishere?Hehasbeenamostfamousdetective.”
“Yes.”
“Iwantyoutoletmecallhimin—toinvestigatethismatter.”
“What—now?Beforethepost-mortem?”
“Yes,timeisanadvantageif—if—therehasbeenfoulplay.”
“Rubbish!”criedLawrenceangrily.“Inmyopinionthewholethingisamare’snestofBauerstein’s!Wilkinshadn’tanideaofsuchathing,untilBauersteinputitintohishead.But,likeallspecialists,Bauerstein’sgotabeeinhisbonnet.Poisonsarehishobby,soofcourseheseesthemeverywhere.”
IconfessthatIwassurprisedbyLawrence’sattitude.Hewassoseldomvehementaboutanything.
Johnhesitated.
“Ican’tfeelasyoudo,Lawrence,”hesaidatlast.“I’minclinedtogiveHastingsafreehand,thoughIshouldprefertowaitabit.Wedon’twantanyunnecessaryscandal.”
“No,no,”Icriedeagerly,“youneedhavenofearofthat.Poirotisdiscretionitself.”
“Verywell,then,haveityourownway.Ileaveitinyourhands.Though,ifitisaswesuspect,itseemsaclearenoughcase.GodforgivemeifIamwronginghim!”
Ilookedatmywatch.Itwassixo’clock.Ideterminedtolosenotime.
Fiveminutes’delay,however,Iallowedmyself.IspentitinransackingthelibraryuntilIdiscoveredamedicalbookwhichgaveadescriptionofstrychninepoisoning.
