“Why?” Peter Lord was rather disconcerted by the question. “Isn’t it the usual thing to do?”
Hercule Poirot said:
“One does not practise detection with a textbook! One uses one’s natural intelligence.”
Peter Lord said:
“You might find a clue of some sort there.”
Poirot sighed:
“You read too much detective fiction. Your police force in this country is quite admirable. I have no doubt that they searched the house and grounds most carefully.”
“For evidence against Elinor Carlisle—not for evidence in her favour.”
Poirot sighed:
“My dear friend, it is not a monster—this police force! Elinor Carlisle was arrested because sufficient evidence was found to make out a case against her—a very strong case, I may say. It was useless for me to go over ground when the police had gone over it already.”
“But you do want to go there now?” objected Peter.
Hercule Poirot nodded his head. He said:
“Yes—now it is necessary. Because now I know exactly what I am looking for. One must understand with the cells of one’s brain before one uses one’s eyes.”
“Then you do think there might be—something—there still?”
Poirot said gently:
“I have a little idea we shall find something—yes.”
“Something to prove Elinor’s innocence?”
“Ah, I did not say that.”
Peter Lord stopped dead.
“You don’t mean you still think she’s guilty?”
Poirot said gravely:
“You must wait, my friend, before you get an answer to that question.”
II
Poirot lunched with the doctor in a pleasant square room with a window open on to the garden.
Lord said:
“Did you get what you wanted out of old Slattery?”
Poirot nodded.
“Yes.”
“What did you want with her?”
“Gossip! Talk about old days. Some crimes have their roots in the past. I think this one had.”