The Mysterious Affair at Styles (Hercule Poirot 1)

CHAPTER VI. THE INQUEST

In the interval before the inquest, Poirot was unfailing in hisactivity. Twice he was closeted with Mr. Wells. He also took longwalks into the country. I rather resented his not taking me into hisconfidence, the more so as I could not in the least guess what he wasdriving at.

It occurred to me that he might have been making inquiries at Raikes'sfarm; so, finding him out when I called at Leastways Cottage onWednesday evening, I walked over there by the fields, hoping to meethim. But there was no sign of him, and I hesitated to go right up to thefarm itself. As I walked away, I met an aged rustic, who leered at mecunningly.

"You'm from the Hall, bain't you?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm looking for a friend of mine whom I thought might have walkedthis way."

"A little chap? As waves his hands when he talks? One of them Belgiesfrom the village?"

"Yes," I said eagerly. "He has been here, then?"

"Oh, ay, he's been here, right enough. More'n once too. Friend of yours,is he? Ah, you gentlemen from the Hall--you'n a pretty lot!" And heleered more jocosely than ever.

"Why, do the gentlemen from the Hall come here often?" I asked, ascarelessly as I could.

He winked at me knowingly.

"_One_ does, mister. Naming no names, mind. And a very liberal gentlemantoo! Oh, thank you, sir, I'm sure."

I walked on sharply. Evelyn Howard had been right then, and Iexperienced a sharp twinge of disgust, as I thought of AlfredInglethorp's liberality with another woman's money. Had that piquantgipsy face been at the bottom of the crime, or was it the basermainspring of money? Probably a judicious mixture of both.

On one point, Poirot seemed to have a curious obsession. He once ortwice observed to me that he thought Dorcas must have made an error infixing the time of the quarrel. He suggested to her repeatedly that itwas 4.30, and not 4 o'clock when she had heard the voices.

But Dorcas was unshaken. Quite an hour, or even more, had elapsedbetween the time when she had heard the voices and 5 o'clock, when shehad taken tea to her mistress.

The inquest was held on Friday at the Stylites Arms in the village.Poirot and I sat together, not being required to give evidence.

The preliminaries were gone through. The jury viewed the body, and JohnCavendish gave evidence of identification.

Further questioned, he described his awakening in the early hours of themorning, and the circumstances of his mother's death.

The medical evidence was next taken. There was a breathless hush, andevery eye was fixed on the famous London specialist, who was known to beone of the greatest authorities of the day on the subject of toxicology.

In a few brief words, he summed up the result of the post-mortem. Shornof its medical phraseology and technicalities, it amounted to the factthat Mrs. Inglethorp had met her death as the result of strychninepoisoning. Judging from the quantity recovered, she must have takennot less than three-quarters of a grain of strychnine, but probably onegrain or slightly over.

"Is it possible that she could have swallowed the poison by accident?"asked the Coroner.

"I should consider it very unlikely. Strychnine is not used for domesticpurposes, as some poisons are, and there are restrictions placed on itssale."

"Does anything in your examination lead you to determine how the poisonwas administered?"

"No."

"You arrived at Styles before Dr. Wilkins, I believe?"

"That is so. The motor met me just outside the lodge gates, and Ihurried there as fast as I could."

"Will you relate to us exactly what happened next?"

"I entered Mrs. Inglethorp's room. She was at that moment in atypical tetanic convulsion. She turned towards me, and gasped out:'Alfred--Alfred----'"

"Could the strychnine have been administered in Mrs. Inglethorp'safter-dinner coffee which was taken to her by her husband?"

"Possibly, but strychnine is a fairly rapid drug in its action. Thesymptoms appear from one to two hours after it has been swallowed. Itis retarded under certain conditions, none of which, however, appearto have been present in this case. I presume Mrs. Inglethorp took thecoffee after dinner about eight o'clock, whereas the symptoms did notmanifest themselves until the early hours of the morning, which, onthe face of it, points to the drug having been taken much later in theevening."

"Mrs. Inglethorp was in the habit of drinking a cup of cocoa in themiddle of the night. Could the strychnine have been administered inthat?"

"No, I myself took a sample of the cocoa remaining in the saucepan andhad it analysed. There was no strychnine present."

I heard Poirot chuckle softly beside me.

"How did you know?" I whispered.

"Listen."

"I should say"--the doctor was continuing--"that I would have beenconsiderably surprised at any other result."

"Why?"

"Simply because strychnine has an unusually bitter taste. It can bedetected in a solution of 1 in 70,000, and can only be disguised by somestrongly flavoured substance. Cocoa would be quite powerless to maskit."

One of the jury wanted to know if the same objection applied to coffee.

"No. Coffee has a bitter taste of its own which would probably cover thetaste of strychnine."

"Then you consider it more likely that the drug was administered in thecoffee, but that for some unknown reason its action was delayed."

"Yes, but, the cup being completely smashed, there is no possibility ofanalyzing its contents."

This concluded Dr. Bauerstein's evidence. Dr. Wilkins corroborated it onall points. Sounded as to the possibility of suicide, he repudiatedit utterly. The deceased, he said, suffered from a weak heart,but otherwise enjoyed perfect health, and was of a cheerful andwell-balanced disposition. She would be one of the last people to takeher own life.

Lawrence Cavendish was next called. His evidence was quite unimportant,being a mere repetition of that of his brother. Just as he was about tostep down, he paused, and said rather hesitatingly:

"I should like to make a suggestion if I may?"

He glanced deprecatingly at the Coroner, who replied briskly:

"Certainly, Mr. Cavendish, we are here to arrive at the truth of thismatter, and welcome anything that may lead to further elucidation."

"It is just an idea of mine," explained Lawrence. "Of course I may bequite wrong, but it still seems to me that my mother's death might beaccounted for by natural means."

"How do you make that out, Mr. Cavendish?"

"My mother, at the time of her death, and for some time before it, wastaking a tonic containing strychnine."

"Ah!" said the Coroner.

The jury looked up, interested.

"I believe," continued Lawrence, "that there have been cases where thecumulative effect of a drug, administered for some time, has endedby causing death. Also, is it not possible that she may have taken anoverdose of her medicine by accident?"

"This is the first we have heard of the deceased taking strychnine atthe time of her death. We are much obliged to you, Mr. Cavendish."

Dr. Wilkins was recalled and ridiculed the idea.

"What Mr. Cavendish suggests is quite impossible. Any doctor would tellyou the same. Strychnine is, in a certain sense, a cumulative poison,but it would be quite impossible for it to result in sudden death inthis way. There would have to be a long period of chronic symptoms whichwould at once have attracted my attention. The whole thing is absurd."

"And the second suggestion? That Mrs. Inglethorp may have inadvertentlytaken an overdose?"

"Three, or even four doses, would not have resulted in death. Mrs.Inglethorp always had an extra large amount of medicine made up at atime, as she dealt with Coot's, the Cash Chemists in Tadminster. Shewould have had to take very nearly the whole bottle to account for theamount of strychnine found at the post-mortem."

"Then you consider that we may dismiss the tonic as not being in any wayinstrumental in causing her death?"

"Certainly. The supp

osition is ridiculous."

The same juryman who had interrupted before here suggested that thechemist who made up the medicine might have committed an error.

"That, of course, is always possible," replied the doctor.

But Dorcas, who was the next witness called, dispelled even thatpossibility. The medicine had not been newly made up. On the contrary,Mrs. Inglethorp had taken the last dose on the day of her death.

So the question of the tonic was finally abandoned, and the Coronerproceeded with his task. Having elicited from Dorcas how she hadbeen awakened by the violent ringing of her mistress's bell, and hadsubsequently roused the household, he passed to the subject of thequarrel on the preceding afternoon.

Dorcas's evidence on this point was substantially what Poirot and I hadalready heard, so I will not repeat it here.

The next witness was Mary Cavendish. She stood very upright, andspoke in a low, clear, and perfectly composed voice. In answer to theCoroner's question, she told how, her alarm clock having aroused her at4.30 as usual, she was dressing, when she was startled by the sound ofsomething heavy falling.

"That would have been the table by the bed?" commented the Coroner.

"I opened my door," continued Mary, "and listened. In a few minutes abell rang violently. Dorcas came running down and woke my husband, andwe all went to my mother-in-law's room, but it was locked----"

The Coroner interrupted her.

"I really do not think we need trouble you further on that point. Weknow all that can be known of the subsequent happenings. But I shouldbe obliged if you would tell us all you overheard of the quarrel the daybefore."

"I?"

There was a faint insolence in her voice. She raised her hand andadjusted the ruffle of lace at her neck, turning her head a little asshe did so. And quite spontaneously the thought flashed across my mind:"She is gaining time!"

"Yes. I understand," continued the Coroner deliberately, "that youwere sitting reading on the bench just outside the long window of theboudoir. That is so, is it not?"

This was news to me and glancing sideways at Poirot, I fancied that itwas news to him as well.

There was the faintest pause, the mere hesitation of a moment, beforeshe answered:

"Yes, that is so."

"And the boudoir window was open, was it not?"

Surely her face grew a little paler as she answered:

"Yes."

"Then you cannot have failed to hear the voices inside, especially asthey were raised in anger. In fact, they would be more audible where youwere than in the hall."

"Possibly."

"Will you repeat to us what you overheard of the quarrel?"

"I really do not remember hearing anything."

"Do you mean to say you did not hear voices?"

"Oh, yes, I heard the voices, but I did not hear what they said." Afaint spot of colour came into her cheek. "I am not in the habit oflistening to private conversations."

The Coroner persisted.

"And you remember nothing at all? _Nothing_, Mrs. Cavendish? Notone stray word or phrase to make you realize that it _was_ a privateconversation?"

She paused, and seemed to reflect, still outwardly as calm as ever.

"Yes; I remember. Mrs. Inglethorp said something--I do not rememberexactly what--about causing scandal between husband and wife."

"Ah!" the Coroner leant back satisfied. "That corresponds with whatDorcas heard. But excuse me, Mrs. Cavendish, although you realized itwas a private conversation, you did not move away? You remained whereyou were?"

I caught the momentary gleam of her tawny eyes as she raised them.I felt certain that at that moment she would willingly have torn thelittle lawyer, with his insinuations, into pieces, but she repliedquietly enough:

"No. I was very comfortable where I was. I fixed my mind on my book."

"And that is all you can tell us?"

"That is all."

The examination was over, though I doubted if the Coroner was entirelysatisfied with it. I think he suspected that Mary Cavendish could tellmore if she chose.

Amy Hill, shop assistant, was next called, and deposed to having sold awill form on the afternoon of the 17th to William Earl, under-gardenerat Styles.

William Earl and Manning succeeded her, and testified to witnessinga document. Manning fixed the time at about 4.30, William was of theopinion that it was rather earlier.

Cynthia Murdoch came next. She had, however, little to tell. She hadknown nothing of the tragedy, until awakened by Mrs. Cavendish.

"You did not hear the table fall?"

"No. I was fast asleep."

The Coroner smiled.

"A good conscience makes a sound sleeper," he observed. "Thank you, MissMurdoch, that is all."

"Miss Howard."