Part 12 (1/2)

”It's the sort of game would have amused our late friend,” said Battle, nodding.

”We may a.s.sume, then, that such was the procedure in one or more cases: He may have come across a piece of actual evidence in another case and followed it up.

Cards on be Tab 411

I doubt whether, in any of the cases, he had sufficient actual knowledge with which, for instance, to have gone to the police.”

”Or it mayn't have been the kind of case,” said Battle. ”Often enough there's a fishy business--we suspect foul play, but we can't ever prove it. Anyway, the course is clear. We've got to go through the records of all these people--and note any deaths that may be significant. I expect you noticed, just as the Colonel did, what Shaitana said at dinner.”

”The black angel,” murmured Mrs. Oliver.

”A neat little reference to poison, to accidents, to a doctor's opportunities, to shooting accidents. I shouldn't be surprised if he signed his death-warrant when he said those words.”

”It was a nasty sort of pause,” said Mrs. Oliver.

”Yes,” said Poirot. ”Those words went home to one person at least--that person probably thought that Shaitana knew far more than he really did. That licner thought that they were the prelude to the end--that the party was a dramahe entertainment arranged by Shaitana leading up to arrest for murder as its climax! Yes, as you say, he signed his death-warrant when he baited his guests with these words.”

There was a moment's silence.

”This will be a long business,” said Battle with a sigh. ”We can't find out all we want in a moment--and we've got to be careful. We don't want any of the four to suspect what we're doing. All our questioning and so on must seem to have to do with this murder. There mustn't be a suspicion that we've got any idea of the motive for the crime. And the devil of it is we've got to check up on four possible murders in the past, not one.”

Poirot demurred.

”Our friend Mr. Shaitana was not infallible,” he said. ”He may--it is just possible have made a mistake.”

”About all four?”

”No--he was more intelligent than that.”

”Call it fifty-fifty?”

”Not even that. For me, I say one in four.”

”One innocent and three guilty? That's bad enough. And the devil of it is, even if we get at the truth it mayn't help us. Even if somebody did push their great-aunt down the stairs in 1912, it won't be much use to us in 1937.”

”Yes, yes, it will be of use to us.” Poirot encouraged him. ”You know that. You know it as well as I do.”

Battle nodded slowly.

”I know what you mean,” he said. ”Same hallmark.”

”Do you mean,” said Mrs. Oliver, ”that the former victim will have been stabbed with a dagger too?”

”Not quite as crude as that, Mrs. Oliver,” said Battle turning to her. ”But I don't doubt it will be essentially the same type of crime. The details may be different, but the essentials underlying them will be the same. It's odd, but a criminal gives himself away every time by that.”

”Man is an unoriginal animal,” said Hercule Poirot.

”Women,” said Mrs. Oliver, ”are capable of infinite variation. I should never commit the same type of murder twice running.”

”Don't you ever write the same plot twice running?” asked Battle.

”The Lotus Murder,” murmured Poirot. ”The Clue of the Candle Wax.”

412 Agatha Chrtie

Mrs. Oliver turned on him, her eyes beaming appreciation.

”That's clever of you--that's really very clever of you. Because, of course,

those two are exactly the same plot--but n.o.body else has seen it. One is stolen

papers at an informal week-end party of the Cabinet, and the other's a murder in