the prisoner’s room, during his temporary absence from the house. In his chest of drawers, hidden beneath some underclothing, we found: first, a pair of gold-rimmed pince-nez similar to those worn by Mr. Inglethorp”—these were exhibited—“secondly, this phial.”
The phial was that already recognized by the chemist’s assistant, a tiny bottle of blue glass, containing a few grains of a white crystalline powder, and labelled: “Strychnine Hydrochloride. POISON.”
A fresh piece of evidence discovered
his beard and his glasses, was not Alfred Inglethorp?”
“It may be so,” I said, fascinated by Poirot’s eloquence. “But, if that was the case, why does he not say where he was at six o’clock on Monday evening?”
“Ah, why indeed?” said Poirot, calming down. “If he were arrested, he probably would speak,