Taken at the Flood - Agatha Christie [77]
The Superintendent looked surprised.
‘Ask anything you like.’
‘Those sleeping-powders in a box by Rosaleen Cloade’s bed. What were they?’
The Superintendent looked more surprised.
‘Those? Oh, they were quite harmless. Bromide. Soothing to the nerves. She took one every night. We analysed them, of course. They were quite all right.’
‘Who prescribed them?’
‘Dr Cloade.’
‘When did he prescribe them?’
‘Oh, some time ago.’
‘What poison was it that killed her?’
‘Well, we haven’t actually got the report yet, but I don’t think there’s much doubt about it. Morphia and a pretty hefty dose of it.’
‘Was any morphia found in her possession?’
Spence looked curiously at the other man.
‘No. What are you getting at, M. Poirot?’
‘I will pass now to my second question,’ said Poirot evasively. ‘David Hunter put through a call from London to Lynn Marchmont at 11.5 on that Tuesday night. You say you checked up on calls. That was the only outgoing call from the flat in Shepherd’s Court. Were there any incoming calls?’
‘One. At 10.15. Also from Warmsley Vale. It was put through from a public call box.’
‘I see.’ Poirot was silent for a moment or two.
‘What’s the big idea, M. Poirot?’
‘That call was answered? The operator, I mean, got a response from the London number.’
‘I see what you mean,’ said Spence slowly. ‘There must have been someone in the flat. It couldn’t be David Hunter — he was in the train on his way back. It looks, then, as if it must have been Rosaleen Cloade. And if so, Rosaleen Cloade couldn’t have been at the Stag a few minutes earlier. What you’re getting at, M. Poirot, is that the woman in the orange scarf, wasn’t Rosaleen Cloade. And if so, it wasn’t Rosaleen Cloade who killed Arden. But then why did she commit suicide?’
‘The answer to that,’ said Poirot, ‘is very simple. She did not commit suicide. Rosaleen Cloade was killed!’
‘What?’
‘She was deliberately and cold-bloodedly murdered.’
‘But who killed Arden? We’ve eliminated David — ’
‘It was not David.’
‘And now you eliminate Rosaleen? But dash it all, those two were the only ones with a shadow of a motive!’
‘Yes,’ said Poirot. ‘Motive. It was that which has led us astray. If A has a motive for killing C and B has a motive for killing D — well, it does not seem to make sense, does it, that A should kill D and B should kill C?’
Spence groaned. ‘Go easy, M. Poirot, go easy. I don’t even begin to understand what you are talking about with your A’s and B’s and C’s.’
‘It is complicated,’ said Poirot, ‘it is very complicated. Because, you see, you have here two different kinds of crime — and consequently you have, you must have, two different murderers. Enter First Murderer, and enter Second Murderer.’
‘Don’t quote Shakespeare,’ groaned Spence. ‘This isn’t Elizabethan Drama.’
‘But yes, it is very Shakespearian — there are here all the emotions — the human emotions — in which Shakespeare would have revelled — the jealousies, the hates — the swift passionate actions. And here, too, is successful opportunism. “There is a tide in the affairs of men which taken at its flood leads on to fortune…” Someone acted on that, Superintendent. To seize opportunity and turn it to one’s own ends — that has been triumphantly accomplished — under your nose so to speak!’
Spence rubbed his nose irritably.
‘Talk sense, M. Poirot,’ he pleaded. ‘If it’s possible, just say what you mean.’
‘I will be very clear — clear as crystal. We have here, have we not, three deaths? You agree to that, do you not? Three people are dead.’
Spence looked at him curiously.
‘I should certainly say so…You’re not going to make me believe that one of the three is still alive?’
‘No, no,’ said Poirot. ‘They are dead. But how did they die? How, that is to say, would you classify their deaths?’
‘Well, as to that, M. Poirot, you know my views. One murder, and two suicides. But according to you the last suicide isn’t a suicide. It’s another murder.’
‘According to me,’ said Poirot, ‘there has been one suicide, one accident and one murder.’
‘Accident? Do you