"WHERE did you find this ? '' I asked Poirot, in lively curiosity

" waste-paper basket You recognise the handwriting ? ''

"Yes, Mrs Inglethorp's But what does it mean ? ''

Poirot shrugged his shoulders

"I -- but suggestive ''

wild idea flashed across me possible that Mrs Inglethorp's mind was deranged ? Had she some fantastic idea of demoniacal possession ? And, were so, not also possible that she taken her own life ?

about to expound these theories to Poirot, when his own words distracted me

"Come,'' , "now to examine the coffee-cups ! ''

"My dear Poirot ! What on earth good , now that coco ? ''

"Oh, là là ! That miserable coco ! '' cried Poirot flippantly

He laughed with apparent enjoyment, raising his arms to heaven in mock despair, in what but consider the worst possible taste

"And, anyway,'' , with increasing coldness, "as Mrs Inglethorp took her coffee upstairs with her, what you expect , unless you consider it likely that discover packet of strychnine coffee tray ! ''

Poirot was sobered at once

"Come, come, my friend,'' , slipping his arms through mine "Ne vous fachez pas ! Allow me to interest myself in my coffee-cups, respect your coco There ! bargain ? ''

so quaintly humorous that forced to laugh; and we went together drawing-room, where the coffee-cups and tray remained undisturbed had left them

Poirot made me recapitulate the scene night before, listening very carefully, and verifying the position various cups

"So Mrs Cavendish stood tray -- and poured out Yes Then she came across window where you sat with Mademoiselle Cynthia Yes Here are the three cups cup mantel-piece, half drunk, Mr Lawrence Cavendish's one tray ? ''

"John Cavendish's him put it down there ''

"Good One, two, three, four, five -- but where, then, cup of Mr Inglethorp ? ''

" take coffee ''

"Then all are accounted for One moment, my friend ''

With infinite care, drop or two grounds in each cup, sealing them up in separate test tubes, tasting each in turn as so His physiognomy underwent curious change An expression gathered there that only describe as half puzzled, and half relieved

"Bien ! '' at last " evident ! I had an idea -- but clearly mistaken Yes, altogether mistaken Yet strange But no matter ! ''

And, with characteristic shrug, he dismissed whatever it was worrying him mind told him beginning obsession over the coffee was bound to end in blind alley, but I restrained my tongue After all, though old, Poirot great man day

"Breakfast is ready,'' said John Cavendish, coming in hall " breakfast , Monsieur Poirot ? ''

Poirot acquiesced I observed John Already almost restored normal self The shock events last night had upset him temporarily, but his equable poise soon swung back normal man of very little imagination, in sharp contrast brother, who had, perhaps,

the early hours morning, John hard at work, sending telegrams -- first had gone to Evelyn Howard -- writing notices papers, and generally occupying himself melancholy duties that death entails

"May I ask how things are proceeding ? '' "Do your investigations point to my mother having died natural death -- or -- or must we prepare ourselves worst ? ''

" , Mr Cavendish,'' said Poirot gravely, "that do well not to buoy yourself up with any false hopes tell me the views other members family ? ''

"My brother Lawrence is convinced that making fuss over nothing that everything points to its being simple case of heart failure ''

" , does he ? very interesting -- very interesting,'' murmured Poirot softly "And Mrs Cavendish ? ''

faint cloud passed over John's face

" the least idea what my wife's views are ''

The answer brought momentary stiffness in its train John broke the rather awkward silence by saying with slight effort:

" you, didn't I, that Mr Inglethorp has returned ? ''

Poirot bent his head

"It's an awkward position for all of us one treat him as usual -- but, hang it all, one's gorge does rise at sitting down to eat with possible murderer ! ''

Poirot nodded sympathetically

"I quite understand very difficult situation , Mr Cavendish like to one question Mr Inglethorp's reason for not returning last night was, I believe, that he had forgotten the latch-key that so ? ''

"Yes ''

"I suppose latch-key was forgotten -- that take it after all ? ''

" no idea I never thought of looking We always keep it hall drawer I'll go 's there now ''

Poirot held up his hand with faint smile

"No, no, Mr Cavendish, too late now certain that find it If Mr Inglethorp did take it, he has had ample time to replace it by now ''

"But -- -- ''

" nothing If anyone had chanced to look before his return, and seen it there, it valuable point favour all ''

John looked perplexed

" worry,'' said Poirot smoothly "I assure you that not let it trouble you Since so kind, go some breakfast ''

was assembled dining-room Under the circumstances, we were naturally not cheerful party The reaction after shock is always trying, and we were all suffering Decorum and good breeding naturally enjoined demeanour much as usual, yet help wondering self-control were really matter of great difficulty There were no red eyes, no signs of secretly indulged grief that right in my opinion that Dorcas person most affected personal side tragedy

I pass over Alfred Inglethorp, who acted the bereaved widower in manner that disgusting in its hypocrisy Did he know that we suspected him, I wondered Surely be unaware fact, conceal it as Did he feel some secret stirring of fear, or was he confident that his crime would go unpunished ? Surely the suspicion atmosphere must warn him that already marked man

But did suspect him ? What about Mrs Cavendish ? I watched her as she sat head table, graceful, composed, enigmatic In her soft grey frock, with white ruffles wrists falling over her slender hands, she looked very beautiful When she chose, however, her face sphinx-like in its inscrutability She was very silent, hardly opening her lips, and yet in some queer way great strength of her personality was dominating us all

And little Cynthia ? Did she suspect ? She looked very tired and ill, The heaviness and languor of her manner were very marked I asked her if she were feeling ill, and she answered frankly:

"Yes, I've got the most beastly headache ''

"Have another cup of coffee, mademoiselle ? '' said Poirot solicitously " revive you unparalleled mal de tête '' He jumped up and took her cup

"No sugar,'' said Cynthia, watching him, as he picked up the sugar-tongs

"No sugar ? You abandon it war-time, eh ? ''

"No, I never take it in coffee ''

"Sacré ! '' murmured Poirot to himself, as he brought back the replenished cup

Only I heard him, and glancing up curiously little man that his face was working with suppressed excitement, eyes were as green as cat's He had heard or seen something that had affected him strongly -- but it ? usually label myself as dense, but confess that nothing ordinary had attracted myattention

In another moment, the door opened and Dorcas appeared

" Mr Wells you, sir,'' she said to John

I remembered the name as being that lawyer Mrs Inglethorp had written the night before

John rose immediately

"Show him into my study '' Then he turned "My mother's lawyer,'' he explained And in lower voice: " also Coroner -- you understand Perhaps like with me ? ''

We acquiesced and followed him room John strode on ahead and the opportunity of whispering to Poirot:

" an inquest then ? ''

Poirot nodded absently absorbed in thought; my curiosity was aroused

" it ? attending to what ''

" true, my friend much worried ''

"Why ? ''

"Because Mademoiselle Cynthia take sugar in her coffee ''

"What ? be serious ? ''

"But most serious Ah, something there that understand My instinct was right ''

"What instinct ? ''

"The instinct that led me to insist on examining those coffee-cups Chut ! no more now ! ''

We followed John into his study, and he closed the door behind us