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there was never any question of anybody else having done so. Margaret Litchfield confessed. In each case, you see, Hastings, there was one clear suspect and no other.”
    I wrinkled my brow.
    “Yes, that is true - but I don't see what particular inferences you draw from that.”
    “Ah, but you see, I am coming to a fact that you do not know as yet. Supposing, Hastings, that in each of these cases that I have outlined, there was one alien note common to them all?”
    “What do you mean?”
    Poirot said slowly:
    “I intend, Hastings, to be very careful in what I say. Let me put it this way. There is a certain person - X. In none of these cases did X (apparently) have any motive in doing away with the victim. In one case, as far as I have been able to find out, X was actually two hundred miles away when the crime was committed. Nevertheless, I will tell you this. X was on intimate terms with Etherington, X lived for a time in the same village as Riggs, X was acquainted with Mrs Bradley. I have a snap of X and Freda Clay walking together in the street, and X was near the house when old Matthew Litchfield died. What do you say to that?”
    I stared at him. I said slowly:
    “Yes, it's a bit too much. Coincidence might account for two cases, or even three, but five is a bit too thick. There must, unlikely as it seems, be some connection between these different murders.”
    “You assume, then, what I have assumed?”
    “That X is the murderer? Yes.”
    “In that case, Hastings, you will be willing to go with me one step further. Let me tell you this. X is in this house.”
    “Here? At Styles?”
    “At Styles. What is the logical inference to be drawn from that?”
    I knew what was coming as I said:
    “Go on - say it.”
    Hercule Poirot said gravely:
    “A murder will shortly be committed here - here.”

Curtain

Chapter 3
    For a moment or two I stared at Poirot in dismay, then I reacted.
    “No, it won't,” I said. “You'll prevent that.”
    Poirot threw me an affectionate glance.
    “My loyal friend. How much I appreciate your faith in me. Tout de même, I am not sure if it is justified in this case.”
    “Nonsense. Of course you can stop it.”
    Poirot's voice was grave as he said:
    “Reflect a minute, Hastings. One can catch a murderer, yes. But how does one proceed to stop a murder?”
    “Well, you - you - well, I mean - if you know beforehand -”
    I paused rather feebly - for suddenly I saw the difficulties.
    Poirot said:
    “You see? It is not so simple. There are, in fact, only three methods. The first is to warn the victim. To put the victim on his or her guard. That does not always succeed, for it is unbelievably difficult to convince some people that they are in grave danger - possibly from someone near and dear to them. They are indignant and refuse to believe. The second course is to warn the murderer. To say, in language that is only slightly veiled: 'I know your intentions. If so-and-so dies, my friend, you will most surely hang.' That succeeds more often than the first method, but even there it is likely to fail. For a murderer, my friend, is more conceited than any creature on this earth. A murderer is always more clever than anyone else - no one will ever suspect him or her - the police will be utterly baffled, et cetera. Therefore he (or she) goes ahead just the same, and all you can have is the satisfaction of hanging them afterwards.” He paused and said thoughtfully:
    “Twice in my life I have warned a murderer - once in Egypt, once elsewhere. In each case, the criminal was determined to kill... It may be so here.”
    “You said there was a third method,” I reminded him.
    "Ah yes. For that one needs the utmost ingenuity. You have to guess exactly how and when the blow is timed to fall and you have to be ready to step in at the exact psychological moment. You have to catch the murderer, if not quite red-handed, then guilty of the intention beyond any possible doubt.
    “And that, my