Seven

IIt was the following day when Japp walked into Poirot’s flat, flung his hat on the table in deepdisgust and dropped into a chair.

“Well,” he growled¹. “She’s out of it!”

“Who is out of it?”

“Plenderleith. Was playing bridge up to midnight. Host, hostess, naval² commander guest andtwo servants can all swear to that. No doubt about it, we’ve got to give up any idea of her beingconcerned in the business. All the same, I’d like to know why she went all hot and bothered aboutthat little attaché case under the stairs. That’s something in your line, Poirot. You like solving thekind of triviality that leads nowhere. The Mystery of the Small Attaché Case. Sounds quitepromising!”

“I will give you yet another suggestion for a title. The Mystery of the Smell of CigaretteSmoke.”

“A bit clumsy for a title. Smell—eh? Was that why you were sniffing³ so when we firstexamined the body? I saw you—and heard you! Sniff—sniff—sniff. Thought you had a cold inyour head.”

“You were entirely⁴ in error.”

Japp sighed.

“I always thought it was the little grey cells of the brain. Don’t tell me the cells of your noseare equally superior to anyone else’s.”

“No, no, calm yourself.”

“I didn’t smell any cigarette smoke,” went on Japp suspiciously.

“No more did I, my friend.”

Japp looked at him doubtfully. Then he extracted a cigarette from his pocket.

“That’s the kind Mrs.?Allen smoked—gaspers. Six of those stubs were hers. The other threewere Turkish.”

“Exactly.”

“Your wonderful nose knew that without looking at them, I suppose!”

“I assure you my nose does not enter into the matter. My nose registered nothing.”

“But the brain cells registered a lot?”

“Well—there were certain indications—do you not think so?”

Japp looked at him sideways.

“Such as?”

“Eh bien, there was very definitely something missing from the room. Also something added,I think . . . And then, on the writing bureau . . .”

“I knew it! We’re coming to that damned quill⁵ pen!”

“Du tout⁶. The quill pen plays a purely⁷ negative r?le.”

Japp retreated to safer ground.

“I’ve got Charles Laverton-West coming to see me at Scotland Yard in half an hour. Ithought you might like to be there.”

“I should very much.”

“And you’ll be glad to hear we’ve tracked down Major Eustace. Got a service flat in theCromwell Road.”

“Excellent.”

“And we’ve got a little to go on there. Not at all a nice person, Major Eustace. After I’ve seenLaverton-West, we’ll go and see him. That suit you?”

“Perfectly.”

“Well, come along then.”

 

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