Newspaper accounts. Various things. There were some doubts about it, you know. The mother was badly affected. She broke down completely and had to go into hospital. They do say she was never the same woman again afterwards." "But they thought she had done it?" "Well, that's what the doctor thought. There was no direct evidence, you understand. She said that she had seen this happen from a window, that she'd seen the older child, the girl, hit the boy and push him in. But her account-well, I don't think they believed it at the time. She talked so wildly." "There was, I suppose, some psychiatric evidence?" "Yes. She went to a nursing home or hospital of some kind, she was definitely a mental case. She was a good long time in one or two different establishments having treatment, I believe under the care of one of the specialists from St. Andrew's Hospital in London. In the end she was pronounced cured, and released after about three years, and sent home to lead a normal life with her family." "And she was then quite normal?" "She was always neurotic, I believe-" "Where was she at the time of the suicide? Was she staying with the Ravenscrofts?" "No-she had died nearly three weeks before that. She was staying with them at Overcliffe when it happened. It seemed again to be an illustration of the identical twin destiny. She walked in her sleep-had suffered from that over a period of years, it seems. She had had one or two minor accidents that way. She sometimes took too many tranquilizers and that resulted in her walking round the house and sometimes out of it during the night. She was following a path along the cliff edge, lost her footing and fell over the cliff. Killed immediately.

They didn't find her until the next day. Her sister, Lady Ravenscroft, was terribly upset. They were very devoted to each other and she had to be taken to hospital suffering from shock." "Could this tragic accident have led to the Ravenscrofts' suicide some months later?" "There was never a suggestion of such a thing." "Odd things happen with twins, as you say. Lady Ravenscroft might have killed herself because of the link between her and her twin sister. Then the husband may have shot himself because possibly he felt guilty in some way-" Superintendent Garroway said: "You have too many ideas, Poirot. Alistair Ravenscroft couldn't have had an affair with his sister-in-law without everyone knowing about it. There was nothing of that kind-if that's what you've been imagining." The telephone rang. Poirot rose and answered it. It was Mrs. Oliver.

"Monsieur Poirot, can you come to tea or sherry tomorrow?

I have got Celia coming-and later on the bossy woman.

That's what you wanted, isn't it?" Poirot said it was just what he wanted.

"I've got to dash now," said Mrs. Oliver, "going to meet. an old war horse-provided by my elephant Number One, Julia Carstairs. I think she's got his name wrong-she always does- but I hope she's got his address right."

"Well, madame," said Poirot, "and how did you fare with Sir Hugo Foster?" "To begin with, his name wasn't Foster-it was Fothergill.

Trust Julia to get a name wrong. She's always doing it." "So elephants are not always reliable in the names they remember?" "Don't talk of elephants-I've finished with elephants." "And your war horse?" "Quite an old pet-but useless as a source of information.

Obsessed by some people called Marchant who did have a child killed in an accident in India. But nothing to do with the Ravenscrofts. I tell you, I've finished with elephants-" "Madame, you have been most persevering, most noble." "Celia is coming along in about half an hour's time. You wanted to meet her, didn't you? I've told her that you are- well, helping me in this matter. Or would you rather she came to see you?" "No," said Poirot, "I think I should like her to come in the way you have arranged." "I don't suppose she'll stay very long. If we get rid other in about an hour, that would 'be all right, just to think over things a bit, and then Mrs. Burton-Cox is coming." "Ah, yes. That will be interesting. Yes, that will be very interesting." Mrs. Oliver sighed. "Oh, dear, it's a pity, though, isn't it?" She said again, "We do have too much material, don't we?" "Yes," said Poirot. "We do not know what we are looking for. All we know of still is, in all probability, the double suicide of a married couple who lived quiet and happy lives together. And what have we got to show for cause, for reason?

We've gone forward and back to the right, to the left, to the west, to the east." "Quite right," said Mrs. Oliver. "Everywhere. We haven't been to the North Pole yet," she added.

"Nor to the South Pole," said Poirot.

"So what is there, when it all comes to it?" "Various things," said Poirot. "I have made here a list. Do you want to read it?" Mrs. Oliver came over and sat beside him and looked over his shoulder.

"Wigs," she said, pointing to the first item. "Why wigs first?" "Four wigs," said Poirot, "seem to be interesting. Interesting and rather difficult to solve." "I believe the shop she got her wigs from has gone out of the trade now. People go to quite different places for wigs and they're not wearing so many as they did just then. People used to wear wigs to go abroad. You know, because it saves bother in traveling." "Yes, yes," said Poirot, "we will do what we can with wigs.

Anyway, that is one thing that interests me. And then there are other stories. Stories of mental disturbance in the family.

Stories of a twin sister who was mentally disturbed and spent a good many years of her life in a mental home." "It doesn't seem to lead anywhere," said Mrs. Oliver. "I mean to say, I suppose she could have come and shot the two of them, but I don't really see why." "No," said Poirot, "the fingerprints on the revolver were definitely only the fingerprints of General Ravenscroft and his wife, I understand. Then there are stories of a child. A child in India was murdered or attacked, possibly by this twin sister of Lady Ravenscroft. Possibly by some quite different woman-possibly by an ayah or a servant. Point two. You know a little more about money." "Where does money come into it?" said Mrs. Oliver in some surprise.

"It does not come into it," said Poirot. "That is what is so interesting. Money usually comes in. Money someone got as a result of that suicide. Money lost as a result of it. Money somewhere causing difficulties, causing trouble, causing covetousness and desire. It is difficult, that. Difficult to see.

There does not seem to have been any large amount of money anywhere. There are various stories of love affairs, women who were attractive to the husband, men who were attractive to the wife. An affair there one side or the other could have led to suicide or to murder. It very often does. Then we come to what at the moment inclines me to the most interest. That is why I am so anxious to meet Mrs. Burton-Cox." "Oh. That awful woman. I don't see why you think she's important. All she did was to go being a nosey-parker and wanting me to find out things." "Yes, but why did she want you to find out things? It seems to me very odd, that. It seems to me that that is something that one has to find out about. She is the link, you see." "The link?" "Yes. We do not know what the link was, where it was, how it was. All we know is that she wants desperately to learn more about this suicide. Being a link, she connects both with your godchild, Celia Ravenscroft, and with the son who is not her son." "What do you mean-not her son?" "He is an adopted son," said Poirot. "A son she adopted because her own son died," "How did her own child die? Why? When?" "All these things I asked myself. She could be a link, a link of emotion, a wish for revenge through hatred, through some love affair. At any rate I must see her. I must make up my mind about her. Yes. I cannot help but think that is very important." There was a ring at the bell and Mrs. Oliver went out of the room to answer it.