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for murder, this little toy. Go in like butter - absolutely like butter. Brought it with him, I suppose.”
    Battle shook his head.
    “No. It was Mr. Shaitana's. It lay on the table near the door with a good many other knick-knacks.”
    “So the murderer helped himself. A bit of luck finding a tool like that.”
    “Well, that's one way of looking at it,” said Battle slowly.
    “Well, of course it wasn't luck for Shaitana, poor fellow.”
    “I didn't mean that, Doctor Roberts. I meant that there was another angle of looking at the business. It occurs to me that it was noticing this weapon that put the idea of murder into our criminal's mind.”
    “You mean it was a sudden inspiration? That the murder wasn't premeditated? He conceived the idea after he got here? Er - anything to suggest that idea to you?” He glanced at Battle searchingly.
    “It's just an idea,” said Superintendent Battle stolidly.
    “Well, it might be so, of course,” said Doctor Roberts slowly.
    Superintendent Battle cleared his throat.
    “Well, I won't keep you any longer, Doctor. Thank you for your help. Perhaps you'll leave your address.”
    “Certainly. Two hundred Gloucester Terrace, W. two. Telephone Bayswater No. two-three-eight-nine-six.”
    “Thank you. I may have to call upon you shortly.”
    “Delighted to see you any time. Hope there won't be too much in the papers. I don't want my nervous patients upset.”
    Superintendent Battle looked round at Poirot.
    “Excuse me, Monsieur Poirot. If you'd like to ask any questions I'm sure the doctor wouldn't mind.”
    “Of course not. Of course not. Great admirer of yours, Monsieur Poirot. Little gray cells - order and method. I know all about it. I feel sure you'll think of something most intriguing to ask me.”
    Hercule Poirot spread out his hands in his most foreign manner.
    “No, no. I just like to get all the details clear in my mind. For instance, how many rubbers did you play?”
    “Three,” said Roberts promptly. “We'd got well into the fourth rubber when you came in.”
    “And who played with who?”
    "First rubber, Despard and I against the ladies. They beat us, God bless 'em. Walkover, we never held a card.
    “Second rubber Miss Meredith and I against Despard and Mrs. Lorrimer. Third rubber Mrs. Lorrimer and I against Miss Meredith and Despard. We cut each time but it worked out like a pivot. Fourth rubber Miss Meredith and I again.”
    “Who won and who lost?”
    “Mrs. Lorrimer won every rubber. Miss Meredith won the first and lost the next two. I was a bit up and Miss Meredith and Despard must have been down.”
    Poirot said smiling, “The good superintendent has asked you your opinion of your companions as candidates for murder. I now ask you for your opinion of them as bridge players.”
    “Mrs. Lorrimer's first class,” Doctor Roberts replied promptly. “I'll bet she makes a good income a year out of bridge. Despard's a good player too - what I call a sound player - longheaded chap; Miss Meredith you might describe as quite a safe player. She doesn't make mistakes but she isn't brilliant.”
    “And you yourself, Doctor?”
    Roberts's eyes twinkled, “I overbid my hand a bit, or so they say. But I've always found it pays.”
    Poirot smiled.
    Doctor Roberts rose. “Anything more?”
    Poirot shook his head.
    “Well, good night, then. Good night, Mrs. Oliver. You ought to get some copy out of this. Better than your untraceable poisons, eh?”
    Doctor Roberts left the room, his bearing springy once more. Mrs. Oliver said bitterly as the door closed behind him, “Copy! Copy indeed! People are so unintelligent. I could invent a better murder any day than anything real. I'm never at a loss for a plot. And the people who read my books like untraceable poisons!”

Cards on the Table

Chapter 5
    SECOND MURDERER?
    Mrs. Lorrimer came into the dining-room like a gentlewoman. She looked a little pale, but composed.
    “I'm sorry to have to bother you,” Superintendent