John in the box acquitted himself well. His manner, quiet and direct, was all in his favour.7 At the end of his examination he paused and said, ‘I should like to say one thing. I utterly refute and disapprove of Sir Ernest Heavywether’s insinuation about my brother Lawrence. My brother, I am convinced, had no more to do with this crime than I had.’
Sir Ernest, remaining seated, noted with a sharp eye that John’s protest had made a favourable effect upon the jury. Mr Bunthorne cross-examined.8
‘You say that you never thought it possible that your quarrel with your mother was identical with the one spoken of at the inquest – is not that very surprising?’
‘No, I do not think so – I knew that my mother and Mr Inglethorp had quarrelled. It never occurred to me that they had mistaken my voice for his.’
‘Not even when the servant Dorcas repeated certain fragments of this conversation which you must have recognised?’
‘No, we were both angry and said many things in the heat of the moment which we did not really mean and which we did not recollect afterwards. I could not have told you which exact words I used.’
Mr Bunthorne sniffed incredulously.
‘About this note which you have produced so opportunely, is the handwriting not familiar to you?’
‘No.’
‘Do you not think it bears a marked resemblance to your own handwriting?’
‘No – I don’t think so.’
‘I put it to you that it is your own handwriting.’
‘No.’
‘I put it to you that, anxious to prove an alibi, you conceived the idea of a fictitious appointment and wrote this note to yourself in order to bear out your statement.’
‘No.’
‘I put it to you that at the time you claim to have been waiting about in Marldon Wood,9 you were really in Styles St Mary, in the chemist’s shop, buying strychnine in the name of Alfred Inglethorp.’
‘No – that is a lie.’
That completed Mr Bunthorne’s CE [cross examination]. He sat down and Sir Ernest, rising, announced that his next witness would be M. Hercule Poirot.
Poirot strutted into the witness box like a bantam cock.10 The little man was transformed; he was foppishly attired and his face beamed with self confidence and complacency. After a few preliminaries Sir Ernest asked: ‘Having been called in by Mr. Cavendish what was your first procedure?’
‘I examined Mrs Inglethorp’s bedroom and found certain …?’
‘Will you tell us what these were?’
‘Yes.’
With a flourish Poirot drew out his little notebook.
‘Voila,’ he announced, ‘There were in the room five points of importance.11 I discovered, amongst other things, a brown stain on the carpet near the window and a fragment of green material which was caught on the bolt of the communicating door between that room and the room adjoining, which was occupied by Miss Cynthia Paton.’12
‘What did you do with the fragment of green material?’
‘I handed it over to the police, who, however, did not consider it of importance.’
‘Do you agree?’
‘I disagree with that most utterly.’
‘You consider the fragment important?’
‘Of the first importance.’
‘But I believe,’ interposed the judge, ‘that no-one in the house had a green garment in their possession.’
‘I believe so, Mr Le Juge,’ agreed Poirot facing in his direction. ‘And so at first, I confess, that disconcerted me – until I hit upon the explanation.’
Everybody was listening eagerly.
‘What is your explanation?’
‘That fragment of green was torn from the sleeve of a member of the household.’
‘But no-one had a green dress.’
‘No, Mr Le Juge, this fragment is a fragment torn from a green land armlet.’
With a frown the judge turned to Sir Ernest.
‘Did anyone in that house wear an armlet?’
‘Yes, my lord. Mrs Cavendish, the prisoner’s wife.’
There was a sudden exclamation and the judge commented sharply that unless there was absolute silence he would have the court cleared. He then leaned forward to the witness.
‘Am I to understand that you allege Mrs Cavendish to have entered the room?’
‘Yes, Mr Le Juge.’
‘But the door was bolted on the inside.’
‘Pardon, Mr Le Juge, we have only one person’s word for that – that of Mrs Cavendish herself. You will remember that it was Mrs Cavendish who had tried that door and found it locked.’
‘Was not her door locked when you examined the room?’
‘Yes, but during the afternoon she would have had ample opportunity to draw the bolt.’13
‘But Mr Lawrence Cavendish has claimed that he saw it.’
There was a momentary hesitation on Poirot’s part before he replied.
‘Mr. Lawrence Cavendish was mistaken.’
Poirot continued calmly:
‘I found, on the floor, a large splash of candle grease, which upon questioning the servants, I found had not been there the day before. The presence of the candle grease on the floor, the fact that the door opened quite noiselessly (a proof that it had recently been oiled) and the fragment of the green armlet in the door led me at once to the conclusion that the room had been entered through that door and that Mrs Cavendish was the person who had done so. Moreover, at the inquest Mrs Cavendish declared that she had heard the fall of the table in her own room. I took an early opportunity of testing that statement by stationing my friend Mr Hastings14 in the left wing just outside Mrs Cavendish’s door. I myself, in company with the police, went to [the] deceased’s room and whilst there I, apparently accidentally, knocked over the table in question but found, as I had suspected, that [it made] no sound at all. This confirmed my view that Mrs Cavendish was not speaking the truth when she declared that she had been in her room at the time of the tragedy. In fact, I was more than ever convinced that, far from being in her own room, Mrs Cavendish was actually in the deceased’s room when the table fell. I found that no one had actually seen her leave her room. The first that anyone could tell me was that she was in Miss Paton’s room shaking her awake. Everyone presumed that she had come from her own room – but I can find no one who saw her do so.’
The judge was much interested. ‘I understand. Then your explanation is that it was Mrs Cavendish and not the prisoner who destroyed the will.’
Poirot shook his head.
‘No,’ he said quickly, ‘That was not the reason for Mrs Cavendish’s presence. There is only one person who could have destroyed the will.’
‘And that is?’
‘Mrs Inglethorp herself.’
‘What? The