Black Coffee - Agatha Christie [57]
Poirot rose from his chair, stretching himself. ‘Well, my dear Japp,’ he asked. ‘Did you get it all?’
Dragging Raynor back to the centre of the room with the aid of his constable, Japp replied, ‘Every word, thanks to your note, Poirot. You can hear everything perfectly from the terrace there, just outside the window. Now, let’s go over him and see what we can find.’ He pulled the spills from Raynor’s pocket, and threw them onto the coffee table. He next pulled out a small tube. ‘Aha! Hyoscine! Empty.’
‘Ah, Hastings,’ Poirot greeted his friend, as he entered from the hall carrying a glass of whisky and soda which he handed to the detective.
‘You see?’ Poirot addressed Raynor in his kindliest manner. ‘I refused to play in your comedy. Instead, I made you play in mine. In my note, I gave instructions to Japp and also to Hastings. Then I make things easy for you by complaining of the heat. I know you will suggest a drink. It is, after all, the opening that you need. After that, it is all so straightforward. When I go to the door, the good Hastings he is ready outside with another whisky and soda. I change glasses and I am back again. And so – on with the comedy.’
Poirot gave the glass back to Hastings. ‘Myself, I think I play my part rather well,’ he declared.
There was a pause while Poirot and Raynor surveyed each other. Then Raynor spoke. ‘I’ve been afraid of you ever since you came into this house. My scheme could have worked. I could have set myself up for life with the fifty thousand pounds – perhaps even more – that I would have got for that wretched formula. But, from the moment you arrived, I stopped feeling absolutely confident that I’d get away with killing that pompous old fool and stealing his precious scrap of paper.’
‘I have observed already that you are intelligent,’ Poirot replied. He sat again in the arm-chair, looking distinctly pleased with himself, as Japp began to speak rapidly.
‘Edward Raynor, I arrest you for the wilful murder of Sir Claud Amory, and I warn you that anything you say may be used in evidence.’ Japp made a gesture to the constable to take Raynor away.
Chapter 20
As Raynor made his exit in the custody of Constable Johnson, the two men passed Miss Amory, who was entering the library at the same moment. She looked back at them anxiously, and then hastened to Poirot. ‘Monsieur Poirot,’ she gasped as Poirot rose to greet her, ‘is this true? Was it Mr Raynor who murdered my poor brother?’
‘I am afraid so, mademoiselle,’ said Poirot.
Miss Amory looked dumbfounded. ‘Oh! Oh!’ she exclaimed. ‘I can’t believe it! What wickedness! We’ve always treated him like one of the family. And the Beeswax and everything –’ She turned abruptly, and was about to leave when Richard entered and held the door open for her. As she almost ran from the room, her niece Barbara entered from the garden.
‘This is simply too shattering for words,’ Barbara exclaimed. ‘Edward Raynor, of all people. Who would have believed it? Somebody has been frightfully clever to have found out. I wonder who!’
She looked meaningfully at Poirot who, however, gave a bow in the direction of the police inspector as he murmured, ‘It was Inspector Japp who solved the case, mademoiselle.’
Japp beamed. ‘I will say for you, Monsieur Poirot, you’re the goods. And a gentleman as well.’ With a nod to the assembled company, Japp made a brisk exit, snatching the whisky glass from a bemused Hastings as he did so, with the words, ‘I’ll take charge of the evidence, if you please, Captain Hastings!’
‘Yes, but was it really Inspector Japp who found out who killed Uncle Claud? Or,’ Barbara asked Poirot coyly as she approached him, ‘was it you, Monsieur Hercule Poirot?’
Poirot moved to Hastings, putting an arm around his old friend. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he informed