Poirot said:
‘Since you have assured me that you have reflected long and carefully—yes, I accept. But you comprehend, Mr Lee, there can be no drawing back. I am not the dog one sets on to hunt and then recalls because you do not like the game he puts up!’
‘Of course…of course…Everything is ready. Your bedroom is prepared. Stay as long as you like—’
Poirot said gravely: ‘It will not be long.’
‘Eh? What’s that?’
‘I said it will not be long. There is in this crime such a restricted circle that it cannot possibly take long to arrive at the truth. Already, I think, the end draws near.’
Alfred stared at him, ‘Impossible!’ he said.
‘Not at all. The facts all point more or less clearly in one direction. There is just some irrelevant matter to be cleared out of the way. When this is done the truth will appear.’
Alfred said incredulously:
‘You mean you know?’
Poirot smiled. ‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘I know.’
Alfred said:
‘My father—my father—’ He turned away.
Poirot said briskly:
‘There are, M. Lee, two requests that I have to make.’
Alfred said in a muffled voice:
‘Anything—anything.’
‘Then, in the first place, I would like the portrait of M. Lee as a young man placed in the bedroom you are good enough to allot to me.’
Alfred and Lydia stared at him.
The former said: ‘My father’s portrait—but why?’
Poirot said with a wave of the hand:
‘It will—how shall I say—inspire me.’
Lydia said sharply:
‘Do you propose, M. Poirot, to solve a crime by clairvoyance?’
‘Let us say, madame, that I intend to use not only the eyes of the body, but the eyes of the mind.’
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She shrugged her shoulders.
Poirot continued:
‘Next, M. Lee, I should like to know of the true circumstances attending the death of your sister’s husband, Juan Estravados.’
Lydia said: ‘Is that necessary?’