It is, as I say, the why of crime that interests nowadays."
Philip Blake said, with a slight yawn,
"The why of most crimes is obvious enough, I should say. Usually money."
"Ah, but, my dear sir," Poirot cried, "the why must never be obvious.
That is the whole point!"
"And that's where you come in?"
"And that, as you say, is where I come in!
It is proposed to rewrite the stories of certain bygone crimes - from the psychological angle.
Psychology in crime, it is my specialty.
I have accepted the commission."
Philip Blake grinned.
"Pretty lucrative, I suppose?"
"I hope so; I certainly hope so."
"Congratulations.
Now, perhaps, you'll tell me where I come in?"
"Most certainly. The Crale case, monsieur."
Philip Blake did not look startled. But he looked thoughtful.
He said, "Yes, of course, the Crale case..."
Hercule Poirot said anxiously,
"It is not displeasing to you, Mr Blake?"
"Oh, as to that." Philip Blake shrugged his shoulders. "It's no use resenting a thing that you've no power to stop.
The trial of Caroline Crale is public property.
Anyone can go ahead and write it up.
It's no use my objecting.
In a way - I don't mind telling you - I do dislike it a good deal.
Amyas Crale was one of my best friends.
I'm sorry the whole unsavory business has to be raked up again.
But these things happen."
"You are a philosopher, Mr Blake."
"No, no. I just know enough not to start kicking against the pricks.
I daresay, you'll do it less offensively than many others."
"I hope, at least, to write with delicacy and good taste," said Poirot.
Philip Blake gave a loud guffaw but without any real amusement.
"Makes me chuckle to hear you say that."
"I assure you, Mr Blake, I am really interested.
It is not just a matter of money with me.
I genuinely want to recreate the past - to feel and see the events that took place, to see behind the obvious and to visualize the thoughts and feelings of the actors in the drama."
"I don't know that there was much subtlety about it," Philip Blake said.
"It was a pretty obvious business.
Crude female jealousy, that was all there was to it."
"It would interest me enormously, Mr Blake, if I could have your own reactions to the affair."
Philip Blake said with sudden heat, his face deepening in color,
"Reactions! Reactions!
Don't speak so pedantically.
I didn't just stand there and react!
You don't seem to understand that my friend - my friend, I tell you - had been killed - poisoned!
And that if I'd acted quicker I could have saved him."
"How do you make that out, Mr Blake?"
"Like this.
I take it that you've already read up the facts of the case?"