to bring the death of the late Mrs.

Oldfield into the conversation. He was

quick to note the peculiar furtive expression

that stole across the postmistress's

face. She said:

"Very sudden, wasn't it ? It's made a lot

of talk as you may have heard."

A gleam of interest came into her eyes

as she asked:

"Maybe that's what you'd be wanting

to see Beatrice King for? We all thought

it odd the way she was got out of there all

of a sudden. Somebody thought she knew

something--and maybe she did. She's

dropped some pretty broad hints."

Beatrice King was a short rather slylooking

girl with adenoids. She presented

an appearance of stolid stupidity but her

eyes were more intelligent than her manner

LOH7 87

-H

Jft

would have led one to expect. It seemed,

however, that there was nothing to be got

out of Beatrice King. She repeated:

"I don't know nothing about anything.

. . . It's not for me to say what went on

up there ... I don't know what you mean

by overhearing a conversation between

the doctor and Miss Moncrieffe. I'm not

one to go listening to doors, and you've

no right to say I did. I don't know

nothing."

Poirot said:

"Have you ever heard of poisoning by

arsenic ?33

A nicker of quick furtive interest came

into the girl's sullen face.

She said:

"So that's what it was in the medicine

bottle r9

"What medicine bottle ?"

Beatrice said:

"One of the bottles of medicine what

that Miss Moncrieffe made up for the

Missus. Nurse was all upset—I could

see that. Tasted it, she did, and smelt it, and

then poured it away down the sink and

filled up the bottle with plain water from

the tap. It was white medicine like water,

88

anyway. And once, when Miss Moncrieffe

took up a pot of tea to the Missus, Nurse

brought it down again and made it fresh

—said it hadn't been made with boiling

water but that was just my eye, that was!

I thought it was just the sort of fussing

way nurses have at the time—but I

dunno—it may have been more than

that."

Poirot nodded. He said:

"Did you like Miss Moncrieffe,

Beatrice ?"

"I didn't mind her.... A bit standoffish.

Of course, I always knew as she was sweet

on the doctor. You'd only to see the way

she looked at him."

Again Poirot nodded his head. He went

back to the inn.

There he gave certain instructions to

George.

VI

Dr. Alan Garcia, the Home Office Analyst,

rubbed his hands and twinkled at Hercule

Poirot. He said:

"Well, this suits you, M. Poirot, I

suppose ? The man who's always right."

Poirot said:

89

"You are too kind."

"What put you on to it ? Gossip ?3'

"As you say— Enter Rumour, painted

full of tongues.

The following day Poirot once more

took a train to Market Loughborough.

Market Loughborough was buzzing like

a beehive. It had buzzed mildly ever since