the hour, and all three deliveries were
exceptionally prompt. That is the way of the Bloxham
Hotel.”
Poirot turned to me. “This is another coincidence
énorme, ” he said. “Harriet Sippel, Ida Gransbury and
Richard Negus all arrive at the hotel on the same day,
the day before they are murdered. Then on the day of
the murders they all order dinner to be brought to
their rooms at a quarter past seven exactly ? It does
not seem very likely.”
“Poirot, there’s no point debating the likelihood of
something we know happened.”
“ Non. But there is a point in making sure that it
happened in the way that we have heard. Monsieur
Lazzari, I have no doubt that your hotel contains at
least one very large room. Please assemble in that
room everybody who works here, and I will speak to
them all at their—and your—earliest convenience.
While you do this, Mr. Catchpool and I will begin the
inspection of the three victims” rooms.”
“Yes, and we’d better be quick about it, before
they come for the bodies,” I said. “In normal
circumstances, they would have been removed by
now.” I did not mention that the delay in this instance
had been caused by my own dereliction of duty. In my
hurry to put distance between myself and the Bloxham
Hotel last night, and to think about something—
anything—more pleasant than these three murders, I
had neglected to make the necessary arrangements.
I HOPED POIROT MIGHT warm up a few degrees once
Lazzari had left us alone, but there was no change to
his stern demeanor, and I realized that he was
probably always like this “at work,” as it were—
which seemed a bit rich since it was my work and not
his, and he was doing nothing to lift my spirits.
I had a master key, and we visited the three rooms
one by one. As we waited for the lift’s elaborate gold
doors to open, Poirot said, “We can agree on one
thing, I hope: Monsieur Lazzari’s word cannot be
relied upon with regard to those working in the hotel.
He speaks of them as if they are above suspicion,
which they cannot be if they were here yesterday
when the murders were committed. The loyalty of
Monsieur Lazzari is commendable, but he is a fool if
he believes that all the staff of the Bloxham Hotel are
des anges. ”
Something had been bothering me, so I made a
clean breast of it: “I hope you don’t also think I’m a
fool. What I said before about plenty of other guests
also arriving on Wednesday . . . That was a
harebrained thing to say. Any guests that arrived on
Wednesday and didn’t get murdered on Thursday are
irrelevant, aren’t they? I mean, it’s only a noteworthy
coincidence that three or any number of apparently
unconnected guests arrive on the same day if they also
get murdered on the same evening.”
“ Oui. ” Poirot smiled at me with genuine warmth as
we stepped into the lift. “You have restored my faith
in your mental acuity, my friend. And you hit the head
of the nail when you say ‘apparently unconnected.’
The three murder victims will turn out to be
connected. I will swear to it now. They were not
selected at random from among the hotel’s guests. The
three were killed for one reason—a reason connected
with the initials PIJ. It is for the same reason that they
all came to the hotel on the same day.”
“It’s almost as if they received an invitation to
present themselves for slaughter,” I said in a cavalier
fashion. “Invitation reads: ‘Please arrive the day
before, so that Thursday can be devoted entirely to
your getting murdered.’ ”
It was perhaps undignified to joke about it, but
joking is what I do when I feel despondent, I’m
afraid. Sometimes I succeed in tricking myself into
imagining that I feel all right about things. It didn’t
work on this occasion.
“Devoted entirely . . .” Poirot muttered. “Yes, that
is an idea, mon ami. You were not being serious, I
understand. Nevertheless, you make