In overcoat pocket. Manuscript notes of "Murder on Vesuvius." Continental Bradshaw. Golf ball. Pair of socks. Toothbrush. Receipted hotel bill, Paris.

MISS KERR

Vanity bag. Compact. Two cigarette holders - one ivory, one jade. Cigarette case. Match folder. Handkerchief. Ј2 English money. Loose change. One half letter of credit. Keys.

Dressing Case. Shagreen fitted. Bottles, brushes, combs, and so on. Manicure outfit. Washing bag containing toothbrush, sponge, tooth powder, soap. Two pair of scissors. Five letters from family and friends in England. Two Tauchnitz novels. Photograph of two spaniels.

Carried Vogue and Good Housekeeping.

MISS GREY

Hand bag. Lipstick, rouge, compact. Yale key and one trunk key. Pencil. Cigarette case. Holder. Match folder. Two handkerchiefs. Receipted hotel bill Le Pinet. Small book French Phrases. Note case 100 francs and 10 shillings. Loose French and English change. One casino counter, value 5 francs.

In pocket of traveling coat. Six post cars of Paris, two handkerchiefs and silk scarf, letter signed "Gladys." Tube of aspirin.

LADY HORBURY

Vanity bag. Two lipsticks, rouge, compact. Handkerchief. Three mille notes. Ј6 English money. Loose change - French. A diamond ring. Five French stamps. Two cigarette holders. Lighter with case

Dressing Case. Complete make-up outfit. Elaborate manicure set - gold. Small bottle labeled in ink "Boracic Powder."

As Poirot came to the end of the list, Japp laid his finger on the last item.

"Rather smart of our man. He thought that didn't seem quite in keeping with the rest. Boracic powder my eye! The white powder in that bottle was cocaine."

Poirot's eyes opened a little. He nodded his head slowly.

"Nothing much to do with our case, perhaps," said Japp. "But you don't need me to tell you that a woman who's got the cocaine habit hasn't got much moral restraint. I've an idea, anyway, that her ladyship wouldn't stick at much to get what she wanted, in spite of all that helpless feminine business. All the same, I doubt if she'd have the nerve to carry a thing like this through. And frankly, I can't see that it was possible for her to do it. The whole thing is a bit of a teaser."

Poirot gathered up the loose typewritten sheets and read them through once again. Then he laid them down with a sigh.

"On the face of it," he said, "it seems to point very plainly to one person as having committed the crime. And yet, I cannot see why, or even how."

Japp stared at him.

"Are you pretending that by reading all this stuff you've got an idea who did it?"

"I think so."

Japp seized the papers from him and read them through, handing each sheet over to Fournier when he had finished with it. Then he slapped them down on the table and stared at Poirot.

"Are you pulling my leg, Moosior Poirot?"

"No, no. Quelle idée!"

The Frenchman in his turn laid down the sheets.

"What about you, Fournier?"

The Frenchman shook his head.

"I may be stupid," he said, "but I cannot see that this list advances us much."