five hours when she Was found. Some money had'
disappeared. A string %f beads was on the floor by
her bed. The door Was locked and the key was
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Agatha Christie
missing. The window--windov, not port-hole--gives
on the deck and was open."
"Well?" asked the woman impatiently.
"Do you not think it is curious for a murder
to be committed under those particular circum-stances?
Remember that the postcard sellers,
money changers and bead sellers who are allowed
on board are all well known to the police."
"The stewards usually lock your cabin, all the
same,', Ellie pointed out.
"Yes, to prevent any chance of petty pilfering.
But this--was murder."
"What exactly are you thinking of, M. Poirot?"
Her Voice sounded a little breathless.
"I am thinking of the locked door."
Miss Henderson considered this. "I don't see
anything in that. The man left by the door, locked
it and took the key with him so as to avoid having
the murder discovered too soon. Quite intelligent
of hire, for it wasn't discovered until four o'clock
in the afternoon."
"No, no, Mademoiselle, you don't appreciate
the POint I'm trying to make. I'm not worried as
to how he got out, but as to how he got in."
"The window of course."