Poirot bowed.
‘Eh bien!’ he said, ‘we must hold the court of inquiry. First of all, I think we must verify the story of the affair last night. That is to say, we must question Fanthorp and Miss Robson, who were the actual witnesses of what occurred. The disappearance of the pistol is very significant.’
Race rang a bell and sent a message by the steward.
Poirot sighed and shook his head.
‘It is bad, this,’ he murmured. ‘It is bad.’
‘Have you any ideas?’ asked Race curiously.
‘My ideas conflict. They are not well arranged – they are not orderly. There is, you see, the big fact that this girl hated Linnet Doyle and wanted to kill her.’
‘You think she’s capable of it?’
‘I think so – yes.’ Poirot sounded doubtful.
‘But not in this way? That’s what’s worrying you, isn’t it? Not to creep into her cabin in the dark and shoot her while she was sleeping. It’s the cold-bloodedness that strikes you as not ringing true.’
‘In a sense, yes.’
‘You think that this girl, Jacqueline de Bellefort, is incapable of a premeditated cold-blooded murder.’
Poirot said slowly: ‘I am not sure, you see. She would have the brains – yes. But I doubt if, physically, she could bring herself to do the act
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