"-is the famous arrow poison of the South American Indians," finished Hercule Poirot. And he added, "Mais enfin! Est-ce que c'est possible?"

"It is certainly very extraordinary," said Mr Clancy, still full of blissful excitement. "As I say, most extraordinary. I am myself a writer of detective fiction, but actually to meet, in real life -"

Words failed him.

The aeroplane heeled slowly over, and those people who were standing up staggered a little. The plane was circling round in its descent to Croydon aerodrome.

Chapter 3

The steward and the doctor were no longer in charge of the situation. Their place was usurped by the rather absurd-looking little man in the muffler. He spoke with an authority and a certainty of being obeyed that no one thought of questioning.

He whispered to Mitchell and the latter nodded, and - pushing his way through the passengers - he took up his stand in the doorway leading past the wash rooms to the front car.

The plane was running along the ground now. When it finally came to a stop, Mitchell raised his voice:

"I must ask you, ladies and gentlemen, to keep your seats and remain here until somebody in authority takes charge. I hope you will not be detained long."

The reasonableness of this order was appreciated by most of the occupants of the car, but one person protested shrilly.

"Nonsense!" cried Lady Horbury angrily. "Don't you know who I am? I insist on being allowed to leave at once!"

"Very sorry, my lady. Can't make exceptions."

"But it's absurd - absolutely absurd." Cicely tapped her foot angrily. "I shall report you to the company. It's outrageous that we should be shut up here with a dead body."

"Really, my dear," Venetia Kerr spoke with her well-bred drawl, "too devastating, but I fancy we'll have to put up with it." She herself sat down and drew out a cigarette case. "Can I smoke now, steward?"

The harassed Mitchell said: "I don't suppose it matters now, miss."

He glanced over his shoulder. Davis had disembarked the passengers from the front car by the emergency door and had now gone in search of orders.

The wait was not a long one, but it seemed to the passengers as though half an hour, at least, had passed before an erect, soldierly figure in plain clothes, accompanied by a uniformed policeman, came hurriedly across the aerodrome and climbed into the plane by the door that Mitchell held open.

"Now, then, what's all this?" demanded the newcomer in brisk official tones.

He listened to Mitchell and then to Doctor Bryant, and he flung a quick glance over the crumpled figure of the dead woman.

He gave an order to the constable and then addressed the passengers:

"Will you please follow me, ladies and gentlemen?"

He escorted them out of the plane and across the aerodrome, but he did not enter the usual customs department. Instead, he brought them to a small private room.

"I hope not to keep you waiting any longer than is unavoidable, ladies and gentlemen."