“Well, that’s one way of looking at it,” said Battle slowly.
“Well, of course, it wasn’t luck for Shaitana, poor fellow.”
“I didn’t mean that, Dr. Roberts. I meant that there was another angle of looking at the business. It occurs to me that it was noticing this weapon that put the idea of murder into our criminal’s mind.”
“You mean it was a sudden inspiration—that the murder wasn’t premeditated? He conceived the idea after he got here? Er—anything to suggest that idea to you?”
He glanced at him searchingly.
“It’s just an idea,” said Superintendent Battle stolidly.
“Well, it might be so, of course,” said Dr. Roberts slowly.
Superintendent Battle cleared his throat.
“Well, I won’t keep you any longer, doctor. Thank you for your help. Perhaps you’ll leave your address.”
“Certainly. 200 Gloucester Terrace, W. 2. Telephone No. Bayswater 23896.”
“Thank you. I may have to call upon you shortly.”
“Delighted to see you anytime. Hope there won’t be too much in the papers. I don’t want my nervous patients upset.”
Superintendent Battle looked round at Poirot.
“Excuse me, M. Poirot. If you’d like to ask any questions, I’m sure the doctor wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course not. Of course not. Great admirer of yours, M. Poirot. Little grey cells—order and method. I know all about it. I feel sure you’ll think of something most intriguing to ask me.”
Hercule Poirot spread out his hands in his most foreign manner.
“No, no. I just like to get all the details clear in my mind. For instance, how many rubbers did you play?”
“Three,” said Roberts promptly. “We’d got to one game all, in the fourth rubber, when you came in.”
“And who played with who?”
“First rubber, Despard and I against the ladies. They beat us, God bless ’em. Walk over; we never held a card.
“Second rubber, Miss Meredith and I against Despard and Mrs. Lorrimer. Third rubber, Mrs. Lorrimer and I against Miss Meredith and Despard. We cut each time, but it worked out like a pivot. Fourth rubber, Miss Meredith and I again.”
“Who won and who lost?”
“Mrs. Lorrimer won every rubber. Miss Meredith won the first and lost the next two. I was a bit up and Miss Meredith and Despard must have been down.”
Poirot said, smiling, “The good superintendent has asked you your opinion of your companions as candidates for murder. I now ask yo
u for your opinion of them as bridge players.”
“Mrs. Lorrimer’s first class,” Dr. Roberts replied promptly. “I’ll bet she makes a good income a year out of bridge. Despard’s a good player, too—what I call a sound player—longheaded chap. Miss Meredith you might describe as quite a safe player. She doesn’t make mistakes, but she isn’t brilliant.”
“And you yourself, doctor?”
Roberts’ eyes twinkled.
“I overcall my hand a bit, or so they say. But I’ve always found it pays.”
Poirot smiled.