The Mysterious Affair at Styles Read Online Free PDF Page B

“No, no - not that - not that!” And breaking from me,
     fled up the stairs. I followed her, afraid that she was going to faint. I found her
     leaning against the banisters, deadly pale. She waved me away impatiently.
    “No, no - leave me. I'd rather be alone. Let me just be quiet for a minute or two. Go down
     to the others.”
    I obeyed her reluctantly. John and Lawrence were in the dining room. I joined them. We
     were all silent, but I suppose I voiced the thoughts of us all when I at last broke it by
     saying: “Where is Mr. Inglethorp?”
    John shook his head. “He's not in the house.”
    Our eyes met. Where
    
    
     was
    
    
     Alfred Inglethorp? His absence was strange and inexplicable. I remembered Mrs.
     Inglethorp's dying words. What lay beneath them? What more could she have told us, if she
     had had time?
    At last we heard the doctors descending the stairs. Dr. Wilkins was looking important and
     excited, and trying to conceal an inward exultation under a manner of decorous calm. Dr.
     Bauerstein remained in the background, his grave bearded face unchanged. Dr. Wilkins was
     the spokesman for the two. He addressed himself to John: “Mr. Cavendish, I should like
     your consent to a post-mortem.”
    “Is that necessary?” asked John gravely. A spasm of pain crossed his face.
    “Absolutely,” said Dr. Bauerstein.
    “You mean by that - - ?”
    “That neither Dr. Wilkins nor myself could give a death certificate under the
     circumstances.”
    John bent his head. “In that case, I have no alternative but to agree.”
    “Thank you,” said Dr. Wilkins briskly. “We propose that it should take place tomorrow
     night - or rather tonight.” And he glanced at the daylight. “Under the circumstances, I am
     afraid an inquest can hardly be avoided - these formalities are necessary, but I beg that
     you won't distress yourselves.”
    There was a pause, and then Dr. Bauerstein drew two keys from his pocket, and handed them
     to John.
    “These are the keys of the two rooms. I have locked them and, in my opinion, they would be
     better kept locked for the present.”
    The doctors then departed.
    I had been turning over an idea in my head, and I felt that the moment had now come to
     broach it. Yet I was a little chary of doing so. John, I knew, had a horror of any kind of
     publicity, and was an easygoing optimist, who preferred never to meet trouble halfway. It
     might be difficult to convince him of the soundness of my plan. Lawrence, on the other
     hand, being less conventional, and having more imagination, I felt I might count upon as
     an ally. There was no doubt that the moment had come for me to take the lead.
    “John,” I said, “I am going to ask you something.”
    “Well?”
    “You remember my speaking of my friend Poirot? The Belgian who is here? He has been a most
     famous detective.”
    “Yes.”
    “I want you to let me call him in - to investigate this matter.”
    “What - now? Before the post-mortem?”
    “Yes, time is an advantage if - if - there has been foul play.”
    “Rubbish!” cried Lawrence angrily. “In my opinion the whole thing is a mare's nest of
     Bauerstein's! Wilkins hadn't an idea of such a thing, until Bauerstein put it into his
     head. But, like all specialists, Bauerstein's got a bee in his bonnet. Poisons are his
     hobby, so of course he sees them everywhere.”
    I confess that I was surprised by Lawrence's attitude. He was so seldom vehement about
     anything.
    John hesitated. “I can't feel as you do, Lawrence,” he said at last. “I'm inclined to give
     Hastings a free hand, though I should prefer to wait a bit. We don't want any unnecessary
     scandal.”
    “No, no,” I cried eagerly, “you need have no fear of that. Poirot is discretion itself.”
    “Very well, then, have it your own way. I leave it in your hands. Though, if it is as we
     suspect, it seems a clear enough case. God forgive me if I am wronging him!”
    I looked