Death in the Clouds (Hercule Poirot 12)

‘Oh, no,’ said Mr Winterspoon. ‘There was only the faintest trace of the original preparation. According to my analysis, the dart had recently been dipped in the venom of Dispholidus typus, better known as the boomslang or tree snake.’

‘A boomslang? What is a boomslang?’

‘It is a South African snake—one of the most deadly and poisonous in existence. Its effect on a human being is not known, but some idea of the intense virulence of the venom can be realized when I tell you that on injecting the venom into a hyena, the hyena died before the needle could be withdrawn. A jackal died as though shot by a gun. The poison causes acute haemorrhage under the skin and also acts on the heart, paralysing its action.’

The reporters wrote: ‘Extraordinary Story. Snake Poison in Air Drama. Deadlier than the Cobra.’

‘Have you ever known the venom to be used in a case of deliberate poisoning?’

‘Never. It is most interesting.’

Thank you, Mr Winterspoon.’

Detective-Sergeant Wilson deposed to the finding of the blowpipe behind the cushion of one of the seats. There were no fingerprints on it. Experiments had been made with the dart and the blowpipe. What you might call the range of it was fairly accurate up to about ten yards.

‘M. Hercule Poirot.’

There was a little stir of interest, but M. Poirot’s evidence was very restrained. He had noticed nothing out of the way. Yes, it was he who had found the tiny dart on the floor of the car. It was in such a position as it would naturally have occupied if it had fallen from the neck of the dead woman.

‘The Countess of Horbury.’

The reporters wrote: ‘Peer’s wife gives evidence in Air Death Mystery.’ Some of them put ‘…in Snake Poison Mystery.’

Those who wrote for women’s papers put, ‘Lady Horbury wore one of the new collegian hats and fox furs,’ or ‘Lady Horbury, who is one of the smartest women in town, wore black with one of the new collegian hats,’ or ‘Lady Horbury, who before her marriage was Miss Cicely Bland, was smartly dressed in black with one of the new hats…’

Everyone enjoyed looking at the smart and lovely young woman, though her evidence was of the briefest. She had noticed nothing; she had never seen the deceased before.

Venetia Kerr succeeded her, but was definitely less of a thrill.

The indefatigable purveyors of news for women wrote, ‘Lord Cottesmore’s daughter wore a well-cut coat and skirt with one of the new stocks,’ and noted down the phrase, ‘Society Women at Inquest.’

‘James Ryder.’

‘You are James Bell Ryder, and your address is 17 Blainberry Avenue, NW?’

‘Yes.’

‘What is your business or profession?’

‘I am managing director of the Ellis Vale Cement Co.’

‘Will you kindly examine this blowpipe.’ (A pause.) ‘Have you ever seen this before?’

‘No.’

‘You did not see any such thing in anybody’s hand on board the Prometheus?’

‘No.’

‘You were sitting in seat No. 4, immediately in front of the decease

d?’

‘What if I was?’

‘Please do not take that tone with me. You were sitting in seat No. 4. From that seat you had a view of practically everyone in the compartment.’

‘No, I hadn’t. I couldn’t see any of the people on my side of the thing. The seats have got high backs.’