Cards on the Table (Hercule Poirot 15)

“Take risks, you mean?”

“There is no risk if the bidding is correct. It should be a mathematical certainty. Unfortunately, few people really bid well. They know the opening bids but later they lose their heads. They cannot distinguish between a hand with winning cards in it and a hand without losing cards—but I mustn’t give you a lecture on bridge, or on the losing count, M. Poirot.”

“It would improve my play, I am sure, madame.”

Mrs. Lorrimer resumed her study of the score.

“After that excitement the next hands were rather tame. Have you the fourth score there? Ah, yes. A ding-dong battle—neither side able to score below.”

“It is often like that as the evening wears on.”

“Yes, one starts tamely and then the cards get worked up.”

Poirot collected the scores and made a little bow.

“Madame, I congratulate you. Your card memory is magnificent—but magnificent! You remember, one might say, every card that was played!”

“I believe I do!”

“Memory is a wonderful gift. With it the past is never the past—I should imagine, madame, that to you the past unrolls itself, every incident clear as yesterday. Is that so?”

She looked at him quickly. Her eyes were wide and dark.

It was only for a moment, then she had resumed her woman-of-the-world manner, but Hercule Poirot did not doubt. That shot had gone home.

Mrs. Lorrimer rose.

“I’m afraid I shall have to leave now. I am so sorry—but I really mustn’t be late.”

“Of course not—of course not. I apologize for trespassing on your time.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to help you more.”

“But you have helped me,” said Hercule Poirot.

“I hardly think so.”

She spoke with decision.

“But yes. You have told me something I wanted to know.”

She asked no question as to what that something was.

He held out his hand.

“Thank you, madame, for your forbearance.”

As she shook hands with him she said:

“You are an extraordinary man, M. Poirot.”

“I am as the good God made me, madame.”

“We are all that, I suppose.”

“Not all, madame. Some of us have tried to improve on His pattern. Mr. Shaitana, for instance.”

“In what way do you mean?”