‘What about you, Davis?’
‘The last time I saw her was when I was handing the biscuits to go with the cheese. She was all right then.’
‘What is your system of serving meals?’ asked Poirot. ‘Do each of you serve separate cars?’
‘No, sir, we work it together. The soup, then the meat and vegetables and salad, then the sweet, and so on. We usually serve the rear car first, and then go out with a fresh lot of dishes to the front car.’
Poirot nodded.
‘Did this Morisot woman speak to anyone on the plane, or show any signs of recognition?’ asked Japp.
‘Not that I saw, sir.’
‘You, Davis?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Did she leave her seat at all during the journey?’
‘I don’t think so, sir.’
‘There’s nothing you can think of that throws any light on this business—either of you?’
Both the men thought, then shook their heads.
‘Well, that will be all for now, then. I’ll see you again later.’
Henry Mitchell said soberly:
‘It’s a nasty thing to happen, sir. I don’t like it, me having been in charge, so to speak.’
‘Well, I can’t see that you’re to blame in any way,’ said Japp. ‘Still, I agree, it’s a nasty thing to happen.’
He made a gesture of dismissal. Poirot leaned forward.
‘Permit me one little question.’
‘Go ahead, M. Poirot.’
‘Did either of you two notice a wasp flying about the plane?’
Both men shook their heads.
‘There was no wasp that I know of,’ said Mitchell.
‘There was a wasp,’ said Poirot. ‘We have its dead body on the plate of one of the passengers.’
‘Well, I didn’t see it, sir,’ said Mitchell.
‘No more did I,’ said Davis.
‘No matter.’
The two stewards left the room. Japp was running his eye rapidly over the passports.
‘Got a countess on board,’ he said. ‘She’s the one who’s throwing her weight about, I suppose. Better see her first before she goes right off the handle and gets a question asked in the House about the brutal methods of the police.’
‘You will, I suppose, search very carefully all the baggage—the hand baggage—of the passengers in the rear car of the plane?’