In the course of this tour, he had mentioned certain specific drugs - one of which was coniine, the active principle of the spotted hemlock. He had explained its properties, had lamented the fact that it had now disappeared from the pharmacopoeia and boasted that he had known small doses of it to be very efficacious in whooping cough and asthma.
Later he had mentioned its lethal properties and had actually read to his guests some passage from a Greek author describing its effects."
Superintendent Hale paused, refilled his pipe and passed on to Chapter Three:
"Colonel Frere, the chief constable, put the case into my hands.
The result of the autopsy put the matter beyond any doubt.
Coniine, I understand, leaves no definite post-mortem appearances, but the doctors knew what to look for and an ample amount of the drug was recovered.
The doctor was of the opinion that it had been administered two or three hours before death.
In front of Mr Crale, on the table, there had been an empty glass and an empty beer bottle.
The dregs of both were analyzed.
There was no coniine in the bottle, but there was in the glass.
I made inquiries and learned that, although a case of beer and glasses were kept in a small summerhouse in the Battery Garden in case Mr Crale should feel thirsty when painting, on this particular morning Mrs Crale had brought down from the house a bottle of freshly iced beer.
Mr Crale was busy painting when she arrived and Miss Greer was posing for him, sitting on one of the battlements.
"Mrs Crale opened the beer, poured it out, and put the glass into her husband's hand as he was standing before the easel.
He tossed it off in one draught - a habit of his, I learned.
Then he made a grimace, set down the glass on the table, and said,
'Everything tastes foul to me today!'
Miss Greer, upon that, laughed and said,
'Liver!'
Mr Crale said,
'Well, at any rate it was cold.'"
Hale paused.
"At what time did this take place?" Poirot asked.
"At about a quarter past eleven.
Mr Crale continued to paint.
According to Miss Greer, he later complained of stiffness in the limbs and grumbled that he must have got a touch of rheumatism.
But he was the type of man who hates to admit to illness of any kind and he undoubtedly tried not to admit that he was feeling ill.
His irritable demand that he should be left alone and the others go up to lunch was quite characteristic of the man, I should say."
Poirot nodded.
Hale continued. "So Crale was left alone in the Battery Garden.
No doubt he dropped down on the seat and relaxed as soon as he was alone.
Muscular paralysis would then set in.
No help was at hand, and death supervened."
Again Poirot nodded.
Hale said:
"Well, I proceeded according to routine.
There wasn't much difficulty in getting down to the facts.
On the preceding day there had been a set-to between Mrs Crale and Miss Greer.
The latter had pretty insolently described some change in the arrangement of the furniture 'when I am living here.'
Mrs Crale took her up and said,
'What do you mean? When you are living here.'
Miss Greer replied, 'Don't pretend you don't know what I mean, Caroline.
You're just like an ostrich that buries its head in the sand.
You know perfectly well that Amyas and I care for each other and are going to be married.'
Mrs Crale said,
'I know nothing of the kind.'
Miss Greer then said,
'Well, you know it now.'
Whereupon, it seems, Mrs Crale turned to her husband, who had just come into the room, and said,
'Is it true, Amyas, that you are going to marry Elsa?'"
Poirot said with interest,