"I know. I know," Poirot nodded his head sympathetically. "You would like to clear this up. You would like to know definitely exactly what occurred and how it occurred. And you. Dr. Gerard? You have said that there is nothing to be done—that the evidence is bound to be inconclusive? That is probably true. But are you satisfied that the matter should rest so?"

"She was a bad life," said Gerard slowly. "In any case she might have died very shortly—a week—a month—a year."

"So you are satisfied?" persisted Poirot.

Gerard went on: "There is no doubt that her death was—how shall we put it?—beneficial to the community. It has brought freedom to her family. They will have scope to develop—they are all, I think, people of good character and intelligence. They will be, now, useful members of society! The death of Mrs. Boynton, as I see it, has resulted in nothing but good."

Poirot repeated for the third time: "So you are satisfied?"

"No." Dr. Gerard pounded a fist suddenly on the table. "I am not 'satisfied,' as you put it! It is my instinct to preserve life—not to hasten death. Therefore, though my conscious mind may repeat that this woman's death was a good thing, my unconscious mind rebels against it! It is not well, gentlemen, that a human being should die before his or her time has come."

Poirot smiled. He leaned back, contented with the answer he had probed for so patiently.

Colonel Carbury said unemotionally: "He don't like murder! Quite right! No more do I." He rose and poured himself out a stiff whisky and soda. His guests' glasses were still full. "And now," he said, returning to the subject, "let's get down to brass tacks. Is there anything to be done about it? We don't like it—no! But we may have to lump it! No good making a fuss if you can't deliver the goods."

Gerard leaned forward. "What is your professional opinion, M. Poirot? You are the expert."

Poirot took a little time to speak. Methodically he arranged an ashtray or two and made a little heap of used matches. Then he said: "You desire to know, do you not, Colonel Carbury, who killed Mrs. Boynton? (That is, if she was killed and did not die a natural death.) Exactly how and when she was killed—and, in fact, the whole truth of the matter?"

"I should like to know that, yes." Carbury spoke unemotionally.

Hercule Poirot said slowly: "I see no reason why you should not know it!"

Dr. Gerard looked incredulous. Colonel Carbury looked mildly interested. "Oh," he said. "So you don't, don't you? That's interestin'. How d'you propose to set about it?"

"By methodical sifting of the evidence, by a process of reasoning."

"Suits me," said Colonel Carbury.

"And by a study of the psychological possibilities."

"Suits Dr. Gerard, I expect," said Carbury. "And after that, after you've sifted the evidence and done some reasoning and paddled in psychology—hey, presto!—you think you can produce the rabbit out of the hat?"