‘Good idea,’ said Japp. ‘But no luck.’

The blotter showed an innocent white sheet of blotting-paper. Poirot turned over the leaves but they were all the same.

He turned his attention to the waste-paper basket.

It contained two or three torn-up letters and circulars. They were only torn once and were easily reconstructed. An appeal for money from some society for assisting ex-service men, an invitation to a cocktail party on November 3rd, an appointment with a dressmaker. The circulars were an announcement of a furrier’s sale and a catalogue from a department store.

‘Nothing there,’ said Japp.

‘No, it is odd…’ said Poirot.

‘You mean they usually leave a letter when it’s suicide?’

‘Exactly.’

‘In fact, one more proof that it isn’t suicide.’

He moved away.

‘I’ll have my men get to work now. We’d better go down and interview this Miss Plenderleith. Coming, Poirot?’

Poirot still seemed fascinated by the writing-bureau and its appointments.

He left the room, but at the door his eyes went back once more to the flaunting emerald quill pen.

Chapter 2

At the foot of the narrow flight of stairs a door gave admission to a large-sized living-room—actually the converted stable. In this room, the walls of which were finished in a roughened plaster effect and on which hung etchings and woodcuts, two people were sitting.

One, in a chair near the fireplace, her hand stretched out to the blaze, was a dark efficient-looking young woman of twenty-seven or eight. The other, an elderly woman of ample proportions who carried a string bag, was panting and talking when the two men entered the room.

‘—and as I said, Miss, such a turn it gave me I nearly dropped down where I stood. And to think that this morning of all mornings—’

The other cut her short.

‘That will do, Mrs Pierce. These gentlemen are police officers, I think.’

‘Miss Plenderleith?’ asked Japp, advancing.

The girl nodded.

‘That is my name. This is Mrs Pierce who comes in to work for us every day.’

The irrepressible Mrs Pierce broke out again.

‘And as I was saying to Miss Plenderleith, to think that this morning of all mornings, my sister’s Louisa Maud should have been took with a fit and me the only one handy and as I say flesh and blood is flesh and blood, and I didn’t think Mrs Allen would mind, though I never likes to disappoint my ladies—’

Japp broke in with some dexterity.

‘Quite so, Mrs Pierce. Now perhaps you would take Inspector Jameson into the kitchen and give him a brief statement.’

Having then got rid of the voluble Mrs Pierce, who departed with Jameson talking thirteen to the dozen, Japp turned his attention once more to the girl.

‘I am Chief Inspector Japp. Now, Miss Plenderleith, I should like to know all you can tell me about this business.’

‘Certainly. Where shall I begin?’

Her self-possession was admirable. There were no signs of grief or shock save for an almost unnatural rigidity of manner.