Hercule Poirot - Murder in the Spotlight

Chapter Three - The Interviews

The spectacled man, who turned out to be a doctor, was summoned, and examined the body of Christine Redlaw. Her face, hung over her lap, was blue and convulsed, and her long slender fingers clung to the arms of her chair, piercing the cotton. It was truly an awful sight.

'Poisoned,' the doctor got to his feet.

'And how long would you say she's been dead?' the inspector asked.

'It's hard to say. Roughly half an hour, three quarters at most.'

'The show began at 6:15, and your evidence doctor puts the time of death to between 6:50 and 7:10. Any chance of her taking an overdose of something?'

'I think its most unlikely.' the doctor looked uncomfortable, 'I'd say she was murdered.'

'What do you think Poirot?' he turned to the Belgian, who was staring sadly down at the twisted figure of Christine.

'Such a shame, mon amie. A nice lady. The sort of person one would think nobody could hate. But I suppose every murderess was a nice woman, people do have other sides. Tant pis.' he sighed and turned to look at the inspector, 'Yes, she was murdered. Not at all a suicidal type, she was healthy, took no drugs and check her handbag, there is nothing inside.'

'Well the murder took place during the show, but how? That will be our first line of enquiry I think.' and snapping his notebook shut, he turned to the shaking attendant standing beside them.

'Go and inform your manager of what's happened, and ask him if we may have permission to carry out a few interviews.'

He scurried off.

'My friend, what about the letter?' Poirot asked.

The inspector seemed startled, 'It was just hate mail!'

'But what a coincidence that it just happened to mention the date and place of a murder.'

'Coincidences do happen, Poirot.'

'I am not going to discard the letter though, mon amie. I have a feeling it is very much involved.'

The doors opened then, and Mr Jensen, manager of the Admiral walked in. He faulted slightly when catching sight of the body, but marched straight up to the Inspector and shook hands with him warmly.

'Mr Jensen.'

'Pleased to meet you.' he indicated the Belgian, 'This is my friend Poirot. He will, I hope, assist us in clearing up this matter for you.'

The two men shook hands.

'I will give you whatever you need, but do please try and avoid publicity if you can. We do not want this event to affect the business, customers may cease to reside here. '

'We understand.' the inspector gave him a knowing smile, 'Wouldn't much like to stay in a place where a lady was done in.'

'Er.. well... yes you could put it like that,' he gave a nervous glance towards the corpse, 'But now down to business. I could arrange for a room to be cleared for you gentlemen.'

'Yes, I think that will do.'

Presently, the party were led to the smoking room, where the attendants pulled out a table and placed two chairs. Poirot placed a third facing them.

'Well Poirot, you knew the lady. Any idea's for the motive.' the Inspector sat down and flipped open his notebook.

'None whatever, my friend. She did not mention anything to me.'

'Anyone connected to her?'

'Gerald Kerslake was at school with her mother, we will have to look into that. And for all we know there may be others who knew her in this hotel.'