The verdict was arrived at after only a short delay.

The jury found that Mrs. Franklin took her own life while temporarily of unsound mind.

II

Half an hour later I was in Poirot's room. He was looking very exhausted. Curtiss had put him to bed and was reviving him with a stimulant.

I was dying to talk, but I had to contain myself until the valet had finished and left the room.

Then I burst out:

"Was that true, Poirot, what you said? That you saw a bottle in Mrs. Franklin's hand when she came out of the laboratory?"

A very faint smile crept over Poirot's bluishtinged lips. He murmured:

"Did not you see it, my friend?"

"No, I did not."

"But you might not have noticed, hein?"

"No, perhaps not. I certainly can't swear she didn't have it." I looked at him doubtfully. "The question is, are you speaking the truth?"

"Do you think I would lie, my friend?"

"I wouldn't put it past you."

"Hastings, you shock and surprise me. Where is now your simple faith?"

"Well," I conceded, "I don't suppose you would really commit perjury." Poirot said mildly:

"It would not be perjury. It was not on oath."

"Then it was a lie?"

Poirot waved his hand automatically.

"What I have said, mon ami, is said. It is unnecessary to discuss it."

"I simply don't understand you," I cried.

"What don't you understand?"

"Your evidence - all that about Mrs. Franklin's having talked about committing suicide - about her being depressed."

"Enfin, you heard her say such things yourself."

"Yes. But it was only one of many moods. You didn't make that clear."

"Perhaps I did not want to."

I stared at him.

"You wanted the verdict to be suicide?"

Poirot paused before replying. Then he said:

"I think, Hastings, that you do not appreciate the gravity of the situation. Yes, if you like, I wanted the verdict to be suicide..."

"But you don't think - yourself - that she did commit suicide?" Slowly Poirot shook his head.

I said:

"You think - that she was murdered?"

"Yes, Hastings, she was murdered."

"Then why try to hush it up - to have it labelled and put aside as suicide? That stops all enquiry."

"Precisely."

"You want that?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

"Is it conceivable that you do not see? Never mind - let us not go into that. You must take my word for it that it was murder - deliberate, preconceived murder. I told you, Hastings, that a crime would be committed here, and that it was unlikely we should be able to prevent it - for the killer is both ruthless and determined." I shivered. I said:

"And what happens next?"

Poirot smiled.

"The case is solved - labelled and put away as suicide. But you and I, Hastings, go on, working underground like moles. And, sooner or later, we get X." I said:

"And supposing that - meanwhile - someone else is killed?" Poirot shook his head.