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‘She told you that, did she?’ said Sugden with interest.

‘Yes. What was it that the señorita picked up?’

Sugden sighed.

‘I could give you three hundred guesses! I’ll show it to you. It’s the sort of thing that solves the whole mystery in detective stories! If you can make anything out of it, I’ll retire from the police force!’

‘Show it me.’

Sugden took an envelope from his pocket and tilted its contents on to the palm of his hand. A faint grin showed on his face.

‘There you are. What do you make of it?’

On the superintendent’s broad palm lay a little triangular piece of pink rubber and a small wooden peg.

His grin broadened as Poirot picked up the articles and frowned over them.

‘Make anything of them, Mr Poirot?’

‘This little piece of stuff might have been cut from a spongebag?’

‘It was. It comes from a spongebag in Mr Lee’s room. Somebody with sharp scissors just cut a small triangular piece out of it. Mr Lee may have done it himself, for all I know. But it beats me why he should do it. Horbury can’t throw any light on the matter. As for the peg, it’s about the size of a crib-bage peg, but they’re usually made of ivory. This is just rough wood—whittled out of a bit of deal, I should say.’

‘Most remarkable,’ murmured Poirot.

‘Keep ’em if you like,’ said Sugden kindly. ‘I don’t want them.’

‘Mon ami, I would not deprive you of them!’

‘They don’t mean anything at all to you?’

‘I must confess—nothing whatever!’

‘Splendid!’ said Sugden with heavy sarcasm, returning them to his pocket. ‘We are getting on!’

Poirot said:

‘Mrs George Lee, she recounts that the young lady stooped and picked these bagatelles up in a furtive manner. Should you say that that was true?’

Sugden considered the point.

‘N-o,’ he said hesitatingly. ‘I shouldn’t quite go as far as that. She didn’t look guilty—nothing of that kind—but she did set about it rather—well, quickly and quietly—if you know what I mean. And she didn’t know I’d seen her do it! That I’m sure of. She jumped when I rounded on her.’

Poirot said thoughtfully:

‘Then there was a reason? But what conceivable reason could there have been? That little piece of rubber is quite fresh. It has not been used for anything. It can have no meaning whatsoever; and yet—’

Sugden said impatiently:

‘Well, you can worry about it if you like, Mr Poirot. I’ve got other things to think about.’

Poirot asked:

‘The case stands—where, in your opinion?’

Sugden took out his note-book.

‘Let’s get down to facts. To begin with, there are the people who couldn’t have done it. Let’s get them out of the way first—’

‘They are—?’

‘Alfred and Harry Lee. They’ve got a definite alibi. Also Mrs Alfred Lee, since Tressilian saw her in the drawing-room only about a minute before the row started upstairs. Those three are clear. Now for the others. Here’s a list. I’ve put it this way for clearness.’

He handed the book to Poirot.

At the time of the crime

George Lee ?

Mrs George Lee ?

David Lee playing piano in music-room

(confirmed by his wife)

Mrs David Lee in music-room (confirmed by husband)

Miss Estravados in her bedroom (no confirmation)

Stephen Farr in ballroom playing gramophone

(confirmed by three of staff

who could hear the music in

servants’ hall).

Poirot said, handing back the list:

‘And therefore?’

‘And therefore,’ said Sugden, ‘George Lee could have killed the old man. Mrs George Lee could have killed him. Pilar Estravados could have killed him; and either Mr or Mrs David Lee could have killed him, but not both.’

‘You do not, then, accept that alibi?’

Superintendent Sugden shook his head emphatically.

‘Not on your life! Husband and wife—devoted to each other! They may be in it together, or if one of them did it, the other is ready to swear to an alibi. I look at it this way: Someone was in the music-room playing the piano. It may have been David Lee. It probably was, since he was an acknowledged