‘But she doesn’t know why.’

‘You cannot be sure that she does not know why. Very likely shedoes know why and is hiding the fact.’

‘I don’t think so,’ I said obstinately.

‘It is even possible you may find out why by talking to her, even if she herself does not realize the truth.’ 

‘I don’t see very well how-I mean-I hardly know her.’

Hercule Poirot shut his eyes again.

‘There is a time,’ he said, ‘in the course of an attraction between two persons of the opposite sex, when that particular statement is bound to be true. She is an attractive girl, I suppose?’

‘Well-yes,’ I said. ‘Quite attractive.’

‘You will talk to her,’ Poirot ordered, ‘because you are already friends, and you will go again and see this blind woman with some excuse. And you will talk toher. And you will go to the typewriting bureau on the pretence perhaps of having some manuscript typed. You will make friends, perhaps, with one of the other young ladies who works there. You will talk to all these people and then you will come and see me again and you will tell me all the things that they will say.’

‘Have mercy!’ I said.

‘Not at all,’ said Poirot, ‘you will enjoy it.’

‘You don’t seem to realize that I’ve got my own work to do.’

‘You will work all the better for having a certain amount of relaxation,’ Poirot assured me.

I got up and laughed.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘you’re the doctor! Any more words of wisdom for me? What do you feel about this strange business of the clocks?’ 

Poirot leaned back in his chair again and closed his eyes.

The words he spoke were quite unexpected.

‘ “The time has come, the Walrus said,

To talk of many things.

Of shoes and ships and sealing wax,

And cabbages and kings.

And why the sea is boiling hot

And whether pigs have wings.” ’

He opened his eyes again and nodded his head.

‘Do you understand?’ he said.

‘Quotation from “The Walrus and the Carpenter,”Alice Through the Looking Glass.’

‘Exactly. For the moment, that is the best I can do for you,mon cher. Reflect upon it.’

The inquest was well attended by the general public. Thrilled by a murder in their midst, Crowdean turned out with eager hopes of sensational disclosures. The proceedings, however, were as dry as they could be. Sheila Webb need not have dreaded her ordeal, it was over in a couple of minutes.

There had been a telephone message to the Cavendish Bureau directing her to go to 19, Wilbraham Crescent. She had gone, acting as told to do, by entering the sitting-room. She had found the dead man there and had screamed and rushed out of the house to summon assistance. There were no questions or elaborations. Miss Martindale, who also gave evidence, was questioned for an even shorter time. She had received a message purporting to be from Miss Pebmarsh asking her to send a shorthand typist, preferably Miss Sheila Webb, to 19, Wilbraham Crescent, and giving certain directions. She had noted down the exact time of the telephone call as 1.49. That disposed of Miss Martindale.

Miss Pebmarsh, called next, denied categorically that she had asked forany typist to be sent to her that day from the Cavendish Bureau. Detective Inspector Hardcastle made a short emotionless statement. On receipt of a telephone call, he had gone to 19, Wilbraham Crescent where he had found the body of a dead man. The coroner then asked him:

‘Have you been able to identify the dead man?’

‘Not as yet, sir. For that reason, I would ask for this inquest to be adjourned.’

‘Quite so.’

Then came the medical evidence. Doctor Rigg, the police surgeon, having described himself and his qualifications, told of his arrival at 19, Wilbraham Crescent, and of his examination of the dead man.

‘Can you give us an approximate idea of the time of death, Doctor?’

‘I examined him at half past three. I should put the time of death as between half past one and half past two.’

‘You cannot put it nearer than that?’

‘I should prefer not to do so. At a guess, the most likely time would be two o’clock or rather earlier, but there are many factors which have to be taken into account. Age, state of health, and so on.’ 

‘You performed an autopsy?’

‘I did.’

‘The cause of death?’

‘The man had been stabbed with a thin, sharp knife. Something in the nature, perhaps, of a French cooking-knife with a tapering blade. The point of the knife entered…’ Here the doctor became technical as he explained the exact position where the knife had entered the heart.

‘Would death have been instantaneous?’

‘It would have occurred within a very few minutes.’

‘The man would not have cried out or struggled?’

‘Not under the circumstances in which he was stabbed.’

‘Will you explain to us, Doctor, what you mean by that phrase?’

‘I made an examination of certain organs and made certain tests. I would say that when he was killed he was in a state of coma due to the administration of a drug.’

‘Can you tell us what this drug was, Doctor?’

‘Yes. It was chloral hydrate.’

‘Can you tell how this was adminstered?’

‘I should say presumably in alcohol of some kind. The effect of chloral hydrate is very rapid.’

‘Known in certain quarters as a Mickey Finn, I believe,’ murmured the coroner.

‘That is quite correct,’ said Doctor Rigg. ‘He would drink the liquid unsuspectingly, and a few moments later he would reel over and fall unconscious.’

‘And he was stabbed, in your opinion, while unconscious?’

‘That is my belief. It would account for there being no sign of a struggle and for his peaceful appearance.’

‘How long after becoming unconscious was he killed?’

‘That I cannot say with any accuracy. There again it depends on the personal idiosyncrasy of the victim. He would certainly not come round under half an hour and it might be a good deal more than that.’

‘Thank you, Doctor Rigg. Have you any evidence as to when this man last had a meal?’

‘He had not lunched if that is what you mean. He had eaten no solid food for at least four hours.’

‘Thank you, Doctor Rigg. I think that is all.’

The coroner then looked round and said:

‘The inquest will be adjourned for a fortnight, until September 28th.’

The inquest concluded, people began to move out of the court. Edna Brent who, with most of the other girls at the Cavendish Bureau, had been present, hesitated as she got outside the door. The Cavendish Secretarial Bureau had been closed for the morning. Maureen West, one of the other girls, spoke to her.

‘What about it, Edna? Shall we go to the Bluebird for lunch? We’ve got heaps of time. At any rate,you have.’

‘I haven’t got any more time than you have,’ said Edna in an injured voice. ‘Sandy Cat told me I’d better take the first interval for lunch. Mean of her. I thought I’d get a good extra hour for shopping and things.’

‘Just like Sandy Cat,’ said Maureen. ‘Mean as hell, isn’t she? We open up again at two and we’ve all got to be there. Are you looking for anyone?’

‘Only Sheila. I didn’t see her come out.’

‘She went away earlier,’ said Maureen, ‘after she’d finished giving her evidence. She went off with a young man-but I didn’t see who he was. Are you coming?’

Edna still hovered uncertainly, and said, ‘You go on-I’ve got shopping to do anyway.’

Maureen and another girl went off together. Edna lingered. Finally she nerved herself to speak to the fair-haired young policeman who stood at the entrance.

‘Could I go in again?’ she murmured timidly, ‘and speak to-to the one who came to the office-Inspector something.’

‘Inspector Hardcastle?’

‘That’s right. The one who was giving evidence this morning.’