“I quite understand. It is a very difficult situation for you, Mr. Cavendish. I would like to ask you one question. Mr. Inglethorp’s reason for not returning last night was, I believe, that he had forgotten the latch-key. Is not that so?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose you are quite sure that the latch-key was forgotten—that he did not take it after all?”
“I have no idea. I never thought of looking. We always keep it in the hall drawer. I’ll go and see if it’s there now.”
Poirot held up his hand with a faint smile.
that I attribute the circumstance that you have omitted one fact of paramount importance.”
“What is that?” I asked.
“You have not told me if Mrs. Inglethorp ate well last night.”
I stared at him. Surely the war had affected the little man’s brain. He was carefully engaged in brushing his coat before