Death in the Clouds (Hercule Poirot 12)

‘Foreigners,’ said the eyes of the square-faced man, ‘you can’t trust foreigners, not even if they are hand-and-glove with the police.’

Out loud he said:

‘It was this Mr Poirot who picked up the dart, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

The jury retired. They returned after five minutes, and the foreman handed a piece of paper to the coroner.

‘What’s all this?’ The coroner frowned. ‘Nonsense, I can’t accept this verdict.’

A few minutes later the amended verdict was returned: ‘We find that the deceased came to her death by poison, there being insufficient evidence to show by whom the poison was administered.’

Chapter 5

After the Inquest

As Jane left the court after the verdict she found Norman Gale beside her.

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He said, ‘I wonder what was on that paper that the coroner wouldn’t have at any price?’

‘I can tell you, I think,’ said a voice behind him.

The couple turned, to look into the twinkling eyes of M. Hercule Poirot.

‘It was a verdict,’ said the little man, ‘of wilful murder against me.’

‘Oh, surely—’ cried Jane.

Poirot nodded happily.

‘Mais oui. As I came out I heard one man say to the other, “That little foreigner—mark my words, he done it!” The jury thought the same.’

Jane was uncertain whether to condole or to laugh. She decided on the latter. Poirot laughed in sympathy.

‘But, see you,’ he said, ‘definitely I must set to work and clear my character.’

With a smile and a bow he moved away.

Jane and Norman stared after his retreating figure.

‘What an extraordinarily rum little beggar,’ said Gale. ‘Calls himself a detective. I don’t see how he could do much detecting. Any criminal could spot him a mile off. I don’t see how he could disguise himself.’

‘Haven’t you got a very old-fashioned idea of detectives?’ asked Jane. ‘All the false beard stuff is very out of date. Nowadays detectives just sit and think out a case psychologically.’

‘Rather less strenuous.’

‘Physically, perhaps; but of course you need a cool, clear brain.’

‘I see. A hot muddled one won’t do.’

They both laughed.

‘Look here,’ said Gale. A slight flush rose in his cheeks and he spoke rather fast. ‘Would you mind—I mean, it would be frightfully nice of you—it’s a bit late—but how about having some tea with me? I feel—comrades in misfortune—and—’

He stopped. To himself he said: