There was a commotion outside.
A high-pitched voice was rapidly approaching.
"Where are Monsieur Poirot and Colonel Race?
I must see them immediately!
It is most important.
I have vital information.
I - Are they with Mr Doyle?"
Bessner had not closed the door. Only the curtain hung across the open doorway.
Mrs Otterbourne swept it to one side and entered like a tornado.
Her face was suffused with colour, her gait slightly unsteady, her command of words not quite under her control.
"Mr Doyle," she said dramatically, "I know who killed your wife!"
"What?"
Simon stared at her. So did the other two.
Mrs Otterbourne swept all three of them with a triumphant glance.
She was happy - superbly happy.
"Yes," she said. "My theories are completely vindicated.
The deep, primeval, primordial urges - it may appear impossible - fantastic - but it is the truth!"
Race said sharply,
"Do I understand that you have evidence in your possession to show who killed Mrs Doyle?"
Mrs Otterbourne sat down in a chair and leaned forward, nodding her head vigorously.
"Certainly I have.
You will agree, will you not, that whoever killed Louise Bourget also killed Linnet Doyle - that the two crimes were committed by one and the same hand?"
"Yes, yes," said Simon impatiently. "Of course. That stands to reason.
Go on."
"Then my assertion holds. I know who killed Louise Bourget; therefore I know who killed Linnet Doyle."
"You mean, you have a theory as to who killed Louise Bourget," suggested Race sceptically.
Mrs Otterbourne turned on him like a tiger.
"No, I have exact knowledge.
I saw the person with my own eyes."
Simon, fevered, shouted out:
"For God's sake, start at the beginning.
You know the person who killed Louise Bourget, you say."
Mrs Otterbourne nodded.
"I will tell you exactly what occurred."
Yes, she was very happy - no doubt of it!
This was her moment, her triumph!
What of it if her books were failing to sell, if the stupid public that once had bought them and devoured them voraciously now turned to newer favourites? Salome Otterbourne would once again be notorious.
Her name would be in all the papers.
She would be principal witness for the prosecution at the trial.
She took a deep breath and opened her mouth.
"It was when I went down to lunch.
I hardly felt like eating - all the horror of the recent tragedy - Well, I needn't go into that.
Half way down I remember that I had - er - left something in my cabin.
I told Rosalie to go on without me. She did."
Mrs Otterbourne paused a minute.
The curtain across the door moved slightly as though lifted by the wind, but none of the three men noticed it.
"I - er -" Mrs Otterbourne paused.
Thin ice to skate over here, but it must be done somehow. "I - er - had an arrangement with one of the - er - personnel of the ship.
He was to - er - get me something I needed, but I did not wish my daughter to know of it.
She is inclined to be tiresome in certain ways -" Not too good, this, but she could think of something that sounded better before it came to telling the story in court.