PART 4: A new arrival and a murder

For Gareth.

PART 1: The guests arrive.
PART 2: A woman scorned.
PART 3: Breakfast and a shooting party.

PART 4: A new arrival and a murder

It was some time later when Poirot carefully screwed the top back on his ink pen, returned it to the silver-plated pen stand and tucked the newly inked letter away into his breast pocket. Standing up from the mahogany writing table he smiled to himself as he observed Captain Severs’ head lolling over the broad sheet he had spread over his knees, which had been swung casually up on to the arm of the elegant leather sofa.

Poirot walked over to the window and looked out over the garden. He admired the perfect lines of the wide, green lawns and he appreciated the full bloom of the flower beds. Sitting by the folly far down into the garden sat Lady Cheerton with Miss Jenni Ruth. Thinking to himself that that moment would be ideal to take a turn in the garden his eyes traced the path back up to the house. Suddenly he stopped. There was a man poking around in the ferns. But this was certainly no gardener, the cut of the man’s scarlet red jumper told otherwise and far as Poirot could tell this was no member of the party. There was a rustle from behind him and frowning slightly Poirot turned slowly away from the window. Captain Severs had awoken with a start,

“Oh hello there Poirot. Just resting my eyes for a moment.”

Captain Severs turned his eyes back to the broad sheet.

“I say, just look at this wonderful investment opportunity Poirot.”

Poirot rolled his eyes and turned back to the window. The man had gone.

* * * *

It was another hour before Poirot had readied himself and leaving Captain Severs to his reading Poirot exited to the garden. He took the side door and walked through the flower gardens along the side of the house. When he eventually came to the point where he had seen the man from the window poking around he stopped, took out his handkerchief, placed it carefully on the floor and knelt on it. Parting the shoots gently her peered in.

“Aha,” Poirot muttered in triumph as he reached in and pulled out a small piece of glass.

Raising it in the air Poirot examined it carefully; it was unmistakably the remains of the bulb of a pipette. Poirot stood up, straightened his clothes and thoughtfully wrapped the piece of glass in his handkerchief and secreted it into his pocket, before continuing to walk through the garden.

As he approached the folly he saw an additional figure at the garden table with Lady Cheerton and Miss Jenni and smiling to himself he walked purposefully towards the figure in the fitted scarlet jumper.

* * * *

“Ah my dear Monsieur Poirot” chorused Lady Cheerton as she saw Poirot approach, “do come and join us.”

Poirot declined his head in a polite little nod and took a seat opposite the new arrival.

“Well, Monsieur Poirot, let me introduce Dr Care.”

The new arrival extended his arm and the two men exchanged a brief, but firm handshake.

“Dr Care has just this moment arrived to join our little party,” continued Lady Cheerton “he joins us from America.” And then after a slight pause, she reproached “with little warning I must say.”

“The famous Monsieur Poirot,” drawled the man in red, seemingly unperturbed by the Lady’s reprove.

"Quite,” replied Poirot.

“Why, Lady Cheerton, I must compliment you on your so beautiful flower beds. Zhey are most agreeable, are zhey not Dr Care?”

“Oh I wouldn’t know about all that, Poirot,” laughed Dr Care, “I haven’t had chance to look around yet. I just this second got here.”

“Ah oui, but zhere iz still time to ‘av a poke around, eh monsieur?”

Poirot smiled at Dr Care, who smiled back. The smile did not spread to his eyes.

* * * *

The gong for luncheon sounded at precisely 1.15 and Poirot, having one last glance to ensure his reflection was parfait, started to the dinning room with Captain Severs. As they turned the corner to take the wide sweeping stairs to the entrance hall, Poirot stopped abruptly. Looking up at him from the entrance hall was a cluster of people: Lady Cheerton, Reverand Cheerton, Dr Gangle, Trevelyan and Dr Care. They stood around a figure on the floor.

“It’s Professor Glasgow,” came the shaky voice of Lady Cheerton,

“He’s dead!”