‘But we’ve been able to get it down a bit nearer than that,’ explained the inspector. ‘We’ve found a man who went in and bought some tobacco at 5.30. And a second man went in and found the shop empty, as he thought, at five minutes past six. That puts the time at between 5.30 and 6.5. So far I haven’t been able to find anyone who saw this man Ascher in the neighbourhood, but, of course, it’s early as yet. He was in the Three Crowns at nine o’clock pretty far gone in drink. When we get hold of him he’ll be detained on suspicion.’

‘Not a very desirable character, inspector?’ asked Poirot.

‘Unpleasant bit of goods.’

‘He didn’t live with his wife?’

‘No, they separated some years ago. Ascher’s a German. He was a waiter at one time, but he took to drink and gradually became unemployable. His wife went into service for a bit. Her last place was as cook-housekeeper to an old lady, Miss Rose. She allowed her husband so much out of her wages to keep himself, but he was always getting drunk and coming round and making scenes at the places where she was employed. That’s why she took the post with Miss Rose at The Grange. It’s three miles out of Andover, dead in the country. He couldn’t get at her there so well. When Miss Rose died, she left Mrs Ascher a small legacy, and the woman started this tobacco and newsagent business—quite a tiny place—just cheap cigarettes and a few newspapers—that sort of thing. She just about managed to keep going. Ascher used to come round and abuse her now and again and she used to give him a bit to get rid of him. She allowed him fifteen shillings a week regular.’

‘Had they any children?’ asked Poirot.

‘No. There’s a niece. She’s in service near Overton. Very superior, steady young woman.’

‘And you say this man Ascher used to threaten his wife?’

‘That’s right. He was a terror when he was in drink—cursing and swearing that he’d bash her head in. She had a hard time, did Mrs Ascher.’

‘What age of woman was she?’

‘Close on sixty—respectable and hard-working.’

Poirot said gravely:

‘It is your opinion, inspector, that this man Ascher committed the crime?’

The inspector coughed cautiously.

‘It’s a bit early to say that, Mr Poirot, but I’d like to hear Franz Ascher’s own account of how he spent yesterday evening. If he can give a satisfactory account of himself, well and good—if not—’

His pause was a pregnant one.

‘Nothing was missing from the shop?’

‘Nothing. Money in the till quite undisturbed. No signs of robbery.’

‘You think that this man Ascher came into the shop drunk, started abusing his wife and finally struck her down?’

‘It seems the most likely solution. But I must confess, sir, I’d like to have another look at that very odd letter you received. I was wondering if it was just possible that it came from this man Ascher.’