Hickory Dickory Dock

"Monkey business, do you mean?" "We think so-yes. We'll know for certain after the autopsy. I think myself she'd begun to crack.

Maybe she didn't bargain for murder." "You're talking about the Celia Austin case.

Did the girl know something?" "She knew something," said Poirot, "but if I may so put it, I do not think she knew what it was she knew!" "You mean she knew something but didn't appreciate the implications of it?" "Yes. Just that. She was not a clever girl. She would be quite likely to fail to grasp an inference. But having seen something, or heard something, she may have mentioned the fact quite unsuspiciously." "You've no idea what she saw or heard, Mr. Poirot?" "I make guesses," said Poirot. "I cannot do more. There has been mention of a passport. Did someone in the house have a false passport allowing them to go to and fro to the Continent under another name?

Would the revelation of that fact be a serious danger to that person? Did she see the rucksack being tampered with or did she, perhaps, one day see someone removin,,,, the false bottom from the rucksack without reafisin, what it was that that person was doing?

Did she perhaps see the person who removed the light bulbs?

And mention the fact to him or her, not realising that it was of any importance? Ah, mon Dieu!" said Hercule Poirot with irritation. "Guesses! guesses! guesses! One must know more. Always one must know more!" "Well," said Sharpe, "we can make a start on Mrs. Nicoletis" antecedents. Something may come, up." "She was put out of the way because they thought she might talk? Would she have talked?" "She'd been drinking secretly for some time. and that means her nerves were shot to pieces," said Sharpe. "She might have broken down and spilled the whole thing. Turned Queen's Evidence." "She didn't really run the racket, I suppose?" Poirot shook his head.

"I should not think so, no. She was out in the open, you see. She knew what was going on, of course, but I should not say she was the brains behind it. No." "Any idea who is the brains behind it?" "I could make a guess-I migtit be wrong.

Yes-I might be wrong!" "HJCKORY, DICKORY, DOCK," said Nigel, "the mouse ran up the clock. The police said "Boo," I wonder who, Win eventually stand in the Dock?" He added, "To tell or not to tell? That is the question!" He poured himself out a fresh cup of coffee and brought it back to the breakfast table.

"Tell what?" asked Len Bateson.

"Anything one knows," said Nigel, with an airy wave of the hand.

Jean Tomlinson said disapprovingly, "But of course! If we have any information that may be of use,, of course we must tell the police.

That would be only right." "And there speaks our bonny Jean," said Nigel.

"Moi, je n'aime pas It's tics," said Ren6, offering his contribution to the discussion.

"Tell what?" Leonard Bateson asked again.

"The things we know," said Nigel. "About each other, I mean," he added helpfully. His glance swept round the breakfast room table with a malicious Team.

"After all," he said, cheerfully, "we all do know lots of things about each other, don't we? I mean, one's bound to, living in the same house." "But who is to decide what is important or not?

There are many thinos no business of the police it all," said Mr. Ahmed Ali. He spoke hotly, with a injured remembrance of the Inspector's sharp remarks about his collection of postcards.

"T hear," said Nigel, turning towards Mr. Akibombo, "that they found some very interesting things in your room." Owing to his colour, Mr. Akibombo was not able to blush, but his eyelids blinked in a discomfited manner.

"Very much superstition in my country," he said.

"My grandfather give me things to bring here. I keep out of feeling of piety and respect. I, myself, am modern and scientific; not believe in voodoo, but owing to imperfect command of language I find very difficult to explain to policeman." "Even dear little Jean has her secrets, I expect," said Niel, turning his gaze back to Miss Tomlinson.

Jean said hotly that she wasn't going to be insulted.

"I shall leave this place and go to the ally W C A.," she said.

"Come now, Jean," said Nigel. "Give us another chance." "Oh, cut it out, Nigel!" said Valerie wearily. "The police have to snoop, I suppose, under the circumstances." Colin Mcationabb cleared his throat, preparatory to making a remark.

"In my opinion," he said judicially, "the present position ought to be made clear to us. What exactly was the cause of Mrs. Nick's death?" "We'll hear at the inquest, I suppose," said Valerie, impatiently.

"I very much doubt it," said Colin. "In my opinion they'll adjourn the inquest." "I suppose it was her heart, wasn't it?" said Patricia. "She fell down in the street." "Drunk and incapable," said Len Bateson.

"That's how she got taken to the police station." "So she did drink," said Jean. "You know, I always thought so.

"When the police searched the house they found cupboards full of empty brandy bottles in her room, I believe," she added.