chapter 8 the second letter

"well?" i demanded eagerly.

we were seated in a first-class carriage which we had to ourselves.

the train, an express, had j ust drawn out of andover.

"the crime, " said poirot, "was committed by a man of mediumheight with red hair and a cast in the left eye. he limps slightly onthe

right foot and has a mole j ust below the shoulder-blade. ""poirot?" i cried.

for a moment i was completely taken in. then the twinkle in myfriend' s eye undeceived me.

"poirot! " i said again, this time in reproach.

"mon ami, what will you? you fix upon me a look of doglike dew-tionand demand of me a pronouncement h ia sherlock holmes! nowfor the truth---/do not know what the murderer looks like, nor whet' t'

he lives, nor how to set hands upon him. "

"if only he had left some clue, " i murmured.

"yes, the clue--it is always the clue that attracts you. alas that hedid not smoke the cigarette and leave the ash, and then step in it withashoe that has nails of a curious pattern. no---he is not so obliging.

but

at least, my friend, you have the railway guide. the a. b. c. , that isaclue for you! "

"do you think he left it by mistake then?"

"of course not. he left it on purpose. the fingerprints tell us that. ""but there weren' t any on it. "

"that is what i mean. what was yesterday evening? a warm junenight. does a man stroll about on such an evening in gloves? such aman would certainly have attracted attention. therefore since thereare

no fingerprints on the a. b. c. , it must have been carefully wiped. ainnocent man would have left prints--a guilty man would not. somurderer left it there for a purpose--but for all that it is none theless a

clue. that a. b. c. was bought by some one--it was carried by someone--there is a possibility there. "

"you think we may learn something that way?"

"frankly, hastings, i am not particularly hopeful. this man, this un.

known x, obviously prides himself on his abilities. he is not likelyto

blaze a trail that can be followed straight away. ""so that really the a. b. c. isn' t helpful at all. ""not in the sense you mean. "

"in any sense?"

poirot did not answer at once. then he said slowly:

"the answer to that is yes. we are confronted here by an unknow,personage. he is in the dark and seeks to remain in the dark. but inthe

very nature of things he cannot help throwing light upon himself. onesense we know nothing about him--in another sense we know alreadya good deal. i see his figure dimly taking shape--a man whoprints clearly and well--who buys good quality paper--who is at greatneeds to express his personality. i see him as a child possibly ignoredand passed over--i see him growing up with an inward sense ofinferiority--warring with a sense of inj ustice . . . . i see that innerurge--to assert himself--to focus attention on himself ever becomingstronger, and events, circumstances--crushing it down--heaping,perhaps,

more humiliations on him. and inwardly the match is set to thepowder train . . . . "

"that' s all pure conj ecture, " i obj ected. "it doesn' t give you anypractical help. "

"you prefer the match end, the cigarette ash, the nailed boots! yo0always have. but at least we can ask ourselves some practical questions.

why the a. b. c. ? why mrs. ascher? why andover?""the woman' s past life seems simple enough, " i mused. "the interviewswith those two men were disappointing. they couldn' t tell usanything more than we knew already. "

' ' to tell the truth, i did not expect much in that line. but we couldnot neglect two possible candidates for the murder. ""surely you don' t think--"

' q' here is at least a possibility that the murderer lives in or near dover. that is a possible answer to our question: ' why andover?' well ,here were two men known to have been in the shop at the requisitetime of day. either of them might be the murderer. and there isnothing as yet to show that one or other of them is not the murderer. ""that great hulking brute, riddell, perhaps, " i admitted.

"oh, i am inclined to acquit riddell off-hand. he was nervous,blustering,

obviously uneasy---"

"but surely that j ust shows---"

"a nature diametrically opposed to that which penned the a. b. c.

letter. conceit and self-confidence are the characteristics that wemust

look for. "

"some one who throws his weight about?'

"possibly. but some people, under a nervous and self-effacing man-her, conceal a great deal of vanity and self-satisfaction. ""you don' t think that little mr. partridge--?""he is more le type. one cannot say more than that. he acts as thewriter of the letter would act--goes at once to the police--pusheshimself

to the fore-enj oys his position. "

"do you really think--?"

"no, hastings. personally i believe that the murderer came fromoutside andover, but we must neglect no avenue of research. and althoughi say ' he' all the time, we must not exclude the possibility of awoman being concerned. "

"surely not! "

"the method of attack is that of a man, i agree. but anonymous lettersare written by women rather than by men. we must bear that inmind. "

i was silent for a few minutes, then i said:

"what do we do next. ' ?"

"my energetic hastings, " poirot said and smiled at me.

"no, but what do we dot'

"nothing. "

"nothingt' my disappointment rang out clearly.

"am i the magician? the sorcerer? what would you have me do?"turning the matter over in my mind i found it difficult to give answer.

nevertheless i felt convinced that something ought to be doneand that we should not allow the grass to grow under our feet.

i said:

"there is the a. b. c. ---and the notepaper and envelope---""naturally everything is being done in that line. the police have all the means at their disposal for that gind of inquiry. if anything isto be

discovered on those lines have no fear but that they will discover it. "with that i was forced to rest cootent.

in the days that followed i found poirot curiously disinclined to discussthe case. when i tried to reopert the subj ect he waved it aside withan impatient hand.

in my own mind i was afraid th0t i fathomed his motive. over themurder of mrs. ascher, poirot had sustained a defeat. a. b. c. hadchallenged

him--and a. b. c. had won. my friend, accustomed to an unbrokenline of successes, was sensitive to his failure--so much so thathe could not even endure discussion of the subj ect. it was, perhaps,asign of pettiness in so great a man, iut even the most sober of us isliable

to have his head turned by success. in poirot' s case the head-turningprocess had been going on for years. small wonder if its effectsbecame noticeable at long last.

understanding, i respected my friend' s weakness and i made no furtherreference to the case. i read in tlae paper the account of the inquest.

it was very brief, no mention was made of the a. b. c. letter, and a verdictwas returned of murder by some person or persons unknown. thecrime attracted very little attention in the press. it had no popularor

spectacular features. the murder of an old woman in a side street wassoon passed over in the press for more thrilling topics.

truth to tell, the affair was fading from my mind also, partly, i think,because i disliked to think of poirot as being in any way associatedwith a failure, when on july 25th it was suddenly revived.

i had not seen poirot for a couple of days as i had been away inyorkshire for the week-end. i arrived back on monday afternoon andthe letter came by the six o' clock post. i remember the sudden, sharpintake of breath that poirot gave as he slit open that particularenvelope.

"it has come, " he said.

i stared at him--not understandirg.

"what has come?"

"the second chapter of the a. b. c. business. "for a minute i looked at him uncomprehendingly. the matter had reallypassed from my memory.

"read, " said poirot and passed ne over the letter.

as before, it was printed on good-quality paper.

dear mr. poirot--weli, what about it? first game to me, i think.

the andover business went with t swing, didn it?

but the fun only j ust beginning. let me draw your attention tobexhill-on-sea, the 25th inst.

what a merry time we are having, t yours, etc. ,a. b. c.

"good god, poirot, " i cried. "does this mean that this fiend is goingto attempt another crime?

"naturally, hastings. what else did you expect? did you think thatthe andover business was an isolated case? do you not remember mysaying: ' this is the beginning' . 9"

"but this is horrible! "

"yes, it is horrible. "

"we' re up against a homicidal maniac. "

"yes. "

his quietness was more impressive than any heroics could havebeen. i handed back the letter with a shudder.

the following morning saw us at a conference of powers. the chiefconstable of sussex, the assistant commissioner of the c. ld. , inspectorglen from andover, superintendent carter of the sussex police,japp and a younger inspector called crome, and dr. thompson,the famous alienist, were all assembled together. the postmark on thisletter was hampstead, but in poirot' s opinion little importance couldbe attached to this fact.

the matter was discussed fully. dr. thompson was a pleasantmiddle-aged man who, in spite of his learning, contented himself withhomely language, avoiding the technicalities of his profession.

"there' s no doubt, " said the assistant commissioner, "that the twoletters are in the same hand. both were written by the same person. ""and we can fairly assume that that person was responsible for theandover murder. "

"quite. we' ve now got definite warning of a second crime scheduledto take place on the 25th-to-morrow--at bexhill. what stepscan be taken?"

the sussex chief constable looked at his superintendent.

"well, carter, what about it?"

the superintendent shook his head gravely.

"it' s difficult, sir. there' s not the least clue towards whom the xlc-

tim may he. speaking fair and square, what steps can we taket'

"a suggestion, " murmured poirot.

their faces turned to him.

"i think it possible that the surname of the intended victim will be-ginwith the letter b. "

"that would be something, " said the superintendent doubtfully.

"an alphabetical complex, " said dr. thompson thoughtfully.

"i suggest it as a possibility--no more. it came into my mind when isaw the name ascher clearly written over the shop door of theunfortu-nate

woman who was murdered last month. when i got the letter nam-ingbexhill it occurred to me as a possibility that the victim as well asthe place might be selected by an alphabetical system. ""it' s possible, " said the doctor. "on the other hand, it may be thatthe name ascher was a coincidence-that the victim this time, no mat-terwhat her name is, will again be an old woman who keeps a shop.

we' re dealing, remember, with a madman. so far he hasn' t given usany clue as to motive. "

"has a madman any motive, sir. ' ?" asked the superintendentskepti-cally.

"of course he has, man. a deadly logic is one of the specialcharacteristics of acute mania. a man may believe himself divinelyap-pointed

to kill clergymen--or doctors---or old women in tobaccoshops--and there' s always some perfectly coherent reason behind it.

we mustn' t let the alphabetical business run away with us. bexhillsuc-ceeding

to andover may be a mere coincidence. "

"we can at least take certain precautions, carter, and make a specialnote of the b' s, especially small shopkeepers, and keep a watch on allsmall tobacconists and newsagents looked after by a single person. idon' t think there' s anything more we can do than that. naturally keeptabs on all strangers as far as possible. "

the superintendent uttered a groan.

"with the schools breaking up and the holidays beginning? peopleare fairly flooding into the place this week. ""we must do what we can, " the chief constable said sharply.

inspector glen spoke in his turn.

"i' ll have a watch kept on any one connected with the ascher busi-ness.

those two witnesses, partridge and riddell, and of course onascher himself. if they show any signs of leaving andover they' ll befollowed. "

the conference broke up after a few more suggestions and a littledesultory conversation.

porot, i said as we walked along by the river, "surely this crimecan be prevented?"

he turned a haggard face to me.

"the sanity of a city full of men against the insanity of one? i fear,hastings--i very much fear. remember the long-continued successesof ] ack the ripper. "

"it' s horrible, " i said.

"madness, fiastings, is a terrible thing i

am afraid. . · i am very

much

afraid. . . . "