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Cards on the Table (Hercule Poirot 15)

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“Yes? Miss Meredith?” Poirot prompted him.

“She did make mistakes—once or twice—I remember—towards the end of the evening, but that may simply have been because she was tired—not being a very experienced player. Her hand shook, too—”

He stopped.

“When did her hand shake?”

“When was it now? I can’t remember … I think she was just nervous. M. Poirot, you’re making me imagine things.”

“I apologize. There is another point on which I seek your help.”

“Yes?”

Poirot said slowly:

“It is difficult. I do not, you see, wish to ask you a leading question. If I say, did you notice so and so—well, I have put the thing into your head. Your answer will not be so valuable. Let me try to get at the matter another way. If you will be so kind, Dr. Roberts, describe to me the contents of the room in which you played.”

Roberts looked thoroughly astonished.

“The contents of the room?”

“If you will be so good.”

“My dear fellow, I simply don’t know where to begin.”

“Begin anywhere you choose.”

“Well, there was a good deal of furniture—”

“Non, non, non, be precise, I pray of you.”

Dr. Roberts sighed.

He began facetiously after the manner of an auctioneer.

“One large settee upholstered in ivory brocade—one ditto in green ditto—four or five large chairs. Eight or nine Persian rugs—a set of twelve small gilt Empire chairs. William and Mary bureau. (I feel just like an auctioneer’s clerk.) Very beautiful Chinese cabinet. Grand piano. There was other furniture but I’m afraid I didn’t notice it. Six first-class Japanese prints. Two Chinese pictures on looking glass. Five or six very beautiful snuffboxes. Some Japanese ivory netsuke figures on a table by themselves. Some old silver—Charles I tazzas, I think. One or two pieces of Battersea enamel—”

“Bravo, bravo!” Poirot applauded.

“A couple of old English slipware birds—and, I think, a Ralph Wood figure. Then there was some Eastern stuff—intricate silver work. Some jewellery, I don’t know much about that. Some Chelsea birds, I remember. Oh, and some miniatures in a case—pretty good ones, I fancy. That’s not all by a long way—but it’s all I can think of for the minute.”

“It is magnificent,” said Poirot with due appreciation. “You have the true observer’s eye.”

The doctor asked curiously:

“Have I included the object you had in mind?”

“That is the interesting thing about it,” said Poirot. “If you had mentioned the object I had in mind it would have been extremely surprising to me. As I thought, you could not mention it.”

“Why?”

Poirot twinkled.

“Perhaps—because it was not there to mention.”

Roberts stared.

“That seems to remind me of something.”



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