is my belief that you have not known, not

really known, what it is you and your

sisters have been doing. You have been

feeding, like the mares of Diomedes, on

human flesh.3'

Sheila shuddered and gave a sob. She

said:

"It sounds horrible, put like that. And

yet it's true! I never realised it until that

evening in London when Dr. Stoddart

talked to me. He was so grave — so

sincere. I saw then what an awful thing

it was I had been doing. . . . Before that

I thought it was— Oh! rather like drink

after hours — something people would pay

to get, but not something that really

mattered very much!"

Poirot said:

"And now ?"

Sheila Grant said:

"I'll do anything you say. I — I'll talk

to the others," she added. ... "I don't

suppose Dr. Stoddart will ever speak to

me again. . . ."

"On the contrary," said Poirot. "Both

Dr. Stoddart and I are prepared to help

you in every way in our power to start

320

afresh. You can trust us. But one thing

must be done. There is one person who

must be destroyed--destroyed utterly, and only you and your sisters can destroy him. It is your evidence and your evidence

alone that will convict him.33

"You mean --my father ?33

"Not your father. Mademoiselle. Did

I not tell you that Hercule Poirot knows

everything? Your photograph was easily

recognised in official quarters. You are

Sheila Kelly--a persistent young shoplifter

who was sent to a reformatory some

years ago. When you came out of that

reformatory, you were approached by the

man who calls himself General Grant and

offered this post --the post of a 'daughter'.

There would be plenty of money, plenty

of fun, a good time. All you had to do was to introduce the 'snuff' to your friends, always pretending that someone else had

given it to you. Your 'sisters' were in the

same case as yourself.33

He paused and said:

"Come now. Mademoiselle--this man

must be exposed and sentenced. After

that --33

"Yes, afterwards ?33

321

Poirot coughed. He said with a smile:

"You shall be dedicated to the service

of the Gods. ..."

VII

Michael Stoddart stared at Poirot in

amazement. He said:

"General Grant ? General Grant ?" "Precisely, mon cher. The whole mise en scene, you know, was what you would call 'very bogus'. The Buddhas, the Benares brass, the Indian servant! And the gout,

too! It is out of date, the gout. It is old,

old gentlemen who have the gout--not

the fathers of young ladies of nineteen.

"Moreover I made quite certain. As

I go out, I stumble, I clutch at the gouty

foot. So perturbed is the gentleman by

what I have been saying that he did not

even notice. Oh yes, he is very, very bogus, that General! Tout de meme, it is a smart idea. The retired Anglo-Indian General, the well-known comic figure with a liver and a choleric temper, he settles down - not amongst other retired AngloIndian Army officers --oh no, he goes to a milieu far too expensive for the usual retired Army man. There are rich people there,