THE MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR AT STYLES
continued. "And he will be able, at his leisure, to come back and destroy this solitary piece of evidence against him."
"Then, all the time, it was in the spill vase in Mrs. Inglethorp's bedroom, under our very noses?" I cried.
Poirot nodded.
"Yes, my friend. That is where I discovered my 'last link,' and I owe that very fortunate discovery to you."
"To me?"
"Yes. Do you remember telling me that my hand shook as I was straightening the ornaments on the mantel-piece?"
"Yes, but I don't see"
"No, but I saw. Do you know, my friend, I remembered that earlier in the morning, when we had been there together, I had straightened all the objects on the mantel-piece. And, if they were already straightened, there would be no need to straighten them again, unless, in the meantime, some one else had touched them."
"Dear me," I murmured, "so that is the explanation of your extraordinary behaviour. You rushed down to Styles, and found it still there?"
"Yes, and it was a race for time."
"But I still can't understand why Inglethorp was such a fool as to leave it there when he had plenty of opportunity to destroy it."
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