“I realized at once that he was speaking so that one person should understand him. That person was myself. The reference to a woman’s weapon being poison was meant for me. He knew. I had suspected it once before. He had brought the conversation round to a certain famous trial, and I saw his eyes watching me. There was a kind of uncanny knowledge in them. But, of course, that night I was quite sure.”
“And you were sure, too, of his future intentions?”
Mrs. Lorrimer said drily:
“It was hardly likely that the presence of Superintendent Battle and yourself was an accident. I took it that Shaitana was going to advertise his own cleverness by pointing out to you both that he had discovered something that no one else had suspected.”
“How soon did you make up your mind to act, madame?”
Mrs. Lorrimer hesitated a little.
“It is difficult to remember exactly when the idea came into my mind,” she said. “I had noticed the dagger before going into dinner. When we returned to the drawing room I picked it up and slipped it into my sleeve. No one saw me do it. I made sure of that.”
“It would be dexterously done, I have no doubt, madame.”
“I made up my mind then exactly what I was going to do. I had only to carry it out. It was risky, perhaps, but I considered that it was worth trying.”
“That is your coolness, your successful weighing of chances, coming into play. Yes, I see that.”
“We started to play bridge,” continued Mrs. Lorrimer. Her voice cool and unemotional. “At last an opport
unity arose. I was dummy. I strolled across the room to the fireplace. Shaitana had dozed off to sleep. I looked over at the others. They were all intent on the game. I leant over and—and did it—”
Her voice shook just a little, but instantly it regained its cool aloofness.
“I spoke to him. It came into my head that that would make a kind of alibi for me. I made some remark about the fire, and then pretended he had answered me and went on again, saying something like: ‘I agree with you. I do not like radiators, either.’”
“He did not cry out at all?”
“No. I think he made a little grunt—that was all. It might have been taken for words from a distance.”
“And then?”
“And then I went back to the bridge table. The last trick was just being played.”
“And you sat down and resumed play?”
“Yes.”
“With sufficient interest in the game to be able to tell me nearly all the calling and the hands two days later?”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Lorrimer simply.
“Epatant!” said Hercule Poirot.
He leaned back in his chair. He nodded his head several times. Then, by way of a change, he shook it.
“But there is still something, madame, that I do not understand.”
“Yes?”
“It seems to me that there is some factor that I have missed. You are a woman who considers and weighs everything carefully. You decide that, for a certain reason, you will run an enormous risk. You do run it—successfully. And then, not two weeks later, you change your mind. Frankly, madame, that does not seem to me to ring true.”
A queer little smile twisted her lips.
“You are quite right, M. Poirot, there is one factor that you do not know. Did Miss Meredith tell you where she met me the other day?”
“It was, I think she said, near Mrs. Oliver’s flat.”