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to be pretty desperate. It was a long chance to take.”
    He waited a minute but Mrs. Lorrimer did not speak.
    “Do you know anything of the relations between the other three and Mr. Shaitana?”
    She shook her head.
    “Nothing at all.”
    “Would you care to give me an opinion as to which of them you consider the most likely person?”
    Mrs. Lorrimer drew herself up stiffly.
    “I should not care to do anything of the kind. I consider that a most improper question.”
    The superintendent looked like an abashed little boy who has been reprimanded by his grandmother.
    “Address, please,” he mumbled, drawing his notebook toward him.
    “One eleven Cheyne Lane, Chelsea.”
    “Telephone number?”
    “Chelsea four-five-six-three-two.” Mrs. Lorrimer rose.
    “Anything you want to ask, Monsieur Poirot?” said Battle hurriedly.
    Mrs. Lorrimer paused, her head slightly inclined.
    “Would it be a proper question, madame, to ask you your opinion of your companions not as potential murderers but as bridge players?”
    Mrs. Lorrimer answered coldly, “I have no objection to answering that - if it bears upon the matter at issue in any way, though I fail to see how it can.”
    “I will be the judge of that. Your answer, if you please, madame.”
    In the tone of an impatient adult humoring an idiot child Mrs. Lorrimer replied, “Major Despard is a good sound player. Doctor Roberts overbids but plays his hand brilliantly. Miss Meredith is quite a nice little player but a bit too cautious. Anything more?”
    In his turn doing a conjuring trick, Poirot produced four crumpled bridge scores.
    “These scores, madame, is one of these yours?”
    She examined them. “This is my writing. It is the score of the third rubber.”
    “And this score?”
    “That must be Major Despard's. He cancels as he goes.”
    “And this one?”
    “Miss Meredith's. The first rubber.”
    “So this unfinished one is Doctor Roberts's?”
    “Yes. ”
    “Thank you, madame. I think that is all.”
    Mrs. Lorrimer turned to Mrs. Oliver.
    “Good night, Mrs. Oliver. Good night, Colonel Race.”
    Then, having shaken hands with all four of them, she went out.

Cards on the Table

Chapter 6
    THIRD MURDERER?
    “Didn't get any extra change out of her,” commented Battle. “Put me in my place, too. She's the old-fashioned kind, full of consideration for others but arrogant as the devil! I can't believe she did it, but you never know! She's got plenty of resolution. What's the idea of the bridge scores, Monsieur Poirot?”
    Poirot spread them out on the table.
    "They are illuminating, do you not think? What do we want in this case? A clue to character. And a clue not to one character, but to four characters. And this is where we are most likely to find it - in these scribbled figures. Here is the first rubber, you see - a tame business, soon over. Small neat figures - careful addition and subtraction - that is Miss Meredith's score. She was playing with Mrs. Lorrimer. They had the cards and they won.
    "In this next one it is not so easy to follow the play, since it is kept in the cancellation style. But it tells us perhaps something about Major Despard - a man who likes the whole time to know at a glance where he stands. The figures are small and full of character.
    "This next score is Mrs. Lorrimer's - she and Doctor Roberts against the other two - a Homeric combat, figures mounting up above the line each side. Overbidding on the doctor's part and they go down - but since they are both first-class players they never go down very much. If the doctor's overbidding induces rash bidding on the other side there is the chance seized of doubling. See - these figures here are doubled tricks gone down. A characteristic handwriting, graceful, very legible, firm.
    "Here is the last score - the unfinished rubber. I collected one score in each person's handwriting, you see. Figures rather flamboyant. Not such high scores as the preceding rubber. That is probably because