Five Little Pigs   ::   Christie Agatha

Poirot said, with an appearance of changing a painful subject: ‘You still have your laboratory of medicines and cordials, yes?’

‘No.’

The word came sharply-with an almost anguished rapidity Meridith Blake said, his face flushing:

‘I abandoned the whole thing-dismantled it. I couldn’t go on with it-how could I?-after what had happened. The whole thing, you see, might have been said to bemy fault.’

‘No, no, Mr Blake, you are too sensitive.’

‘But don’t you see? If I hadn’t collected those damned drugs? If I hadn’t laid stress on them-boasted about them-forced them on those people’s notice that afternoon? But I never thought-I never dreamed-how could I-’

‘How indeed.’

‘But I went bumbling on about them. Pleased with my little bit of knowledge. Blind, conceited fool. I pointed out that damned coniine. I even, fool that I was, took them back into the library and read them out that passage from the Phaedo describing Socrates’ death. A beautiful piece of writing-I’ve always admired it. But it’s haunted me ever since.’

Poirot said:

‘Did they find any fingerprints on the coniine bottle?’

‘Hers.’

‘Caroline Crale’s?’

‘Yes.’

‘Not yours?’

‘No. I didn’t handle the bottle, you see. Only pointed to it.’

‘But at the same time, surely, you had handled it?’

‘Oh, of course, but I gave the bottles a periodic dusting from time to time-I never allowed the servants in there, of course-and I had done that about four or five days previously.’

‘You kept the room locked up?’

‘Invariably.’

‘When did Caroline Crale take the coniine from the bottle?’

Meredith Blake replied reluctantly:

‘She was the last to leave the room. I called her, I remember, and she came hurrying out. Her cheeks were just a little pink-and her eyes wide and excited. Oh, God, I can see her now.’

Poirot said: ‘Did you have any conversation with her at all that afternoon? I mean by that, did you discuss the situation as between her and her husband at all?’

Blake said slowly in a low voice:

‘Not directly. She was looking as I’ve told you-very upset. I said to her at a moment when we were more or less by ourselves: “Is anything the matter, my dear?” she said: “Everything’s the matter…” I wish you could have heard the desperation in her voice. Those words were the absolute literal truth. There’s no getting away from it-Amyas Crale was Caroline’s whole world. She said, “Everything’s gone-finished. I’m finished, Meredith.