i think that i can date my interest in the case from the first mentionof

the a. b. c. railway guide. up till then i had not been able to raisemuch

enthusiasm. this sordid murder of an old woman in a back street shopwas so like the usual type of crime reported in the newspapers thatit

failed to strike a significant note. in my own mind i had put down theanonymous letter with its mention of the 21st as a mere coincidence.

mrs. ascber, i felt reasonably sure, had been the victim of her drunkenbrute of a husband. but now the mention of the railway guide (so familiarly known by its abbreviation of a. b. c. , listing as it did allrail-way

stations in their alphabetical order) sent a quiver of excitementthrough me. surely--surely this could not be a second coincidence?

the sordid crime took on a new aspect.

who was the mysterious individual who had killed mrs. ascher andleft an a. b. c. railway guide behind him?

when we left the police station our first visit was to the mortuaryto

see the body of the dead woman. a strange feeling came over me as igazed down on that wrinkled old face with the scanty grey hair drawnback tightly from the temples. it looked so peaceful, so incrediblyre-mote

from violence.

"never knew who or what struck her, " observed the sergeant.

"that' s what dr. kerr says. i' m glad it was that way, poor old soul.

adecent woman she was. "

"she must have been beautiful once, " said poirot.

"really?" i murmured incredulously.

"but yes, look at the line of the j aw, the bones, the moulding of thehead. "

he sighed as he replaced the sheet and we left the mortuary.

our next move was a brief interview with the police surgeon.

dr. kerr was a competent-looking middle-aged man. he spokebriskly and with decision.

"the weapon wasn' t found, " he said. "impossible to say what itmay have been. a weighted stick, a club, a form of sandbag--any ofthose would fit the case. "

"would much force be needed to strike such a blow?"the doctor shot a keen glance at poirot.

"meaning, i suppose, could a shaky old man of seventy do it? oh,yes, it' s perfectly possible--given sufficient weight in the head ofthe

weapon, quite a feeble person could achieve the desired result. "' ' then the murderer could j ust as well be a woman as a man?"the suggestion took the doctor somewhat aback.

"a woman, eh? well, i confess it never occurred to me to connect awoman with this type of crime. but of course it' s possible--perfectlypossible. only, psychologically speaking, i shouldn' t say this was awoman' s crime. "

poirot nodded his head in eager agreement.

"perfectly, perfectly. on the face of it, highly improbable. but onemust take all possibilities into account. the body was lying--how?"the doctor gave us a careful description of the position of the vic-tim.

it was his opinion that she had been standing with her back to thecounter (and therefore to her assailant) when the blow had been struck.

she had slipped down in a heap behind the counter quite out of sightof

any one entering the shop casually.

when we had thanked dr. kerr and taken our leave, poirot said:

"you perceive, hastings, that we have already one further point infavour of ascher' s innocence. if he had been abusing his wife andthreatening her, she would have been facing him over the counter. in-·stead, she had her back to her assailant--obviously she is reachingdown tobacco or cigarettes for a customer. "

i gave a little shiver.

"pretty gruesome. "

poirot shook his head gravely.

"pauvrefemme, " he murmured.

then he glanced at his watch.

"overton is not, i think, many miles from here. shall we run overthere and have an interview with the niece of the dead womant'

"surely you will go first to the shop where the crime took placet'

"i prefer to do that later. i have a reason. "he did not explain further, and a few minutes later we were drivingon the london road in the direction of overton.

the address which the inspector had given us was that of a good-sizedhouse about a mile on the london side of the village.

our ring at the bell was answered by a pretty dark-haired girl whoseeyes were red with recent weeping.

poirot said gently:

"ah! i think it is you who are miss mary drower, the parlourmaidhere?"

"yes, sir, that' s fight. i' m mary, sir. "

"then perhaps i can talk to you for a few minutes if your mistresswill not obj ect. it is about your aunt, mrs. ascher. ""the mistress is out, sir. she wouldn' t mind, i' m sure, if you camein here. "

she opened the door of a small morning-room. we entered andpoirot, seating himself on a chair by the window, looked up keenly intothe girl' s face.

"you have heard of your aunt' s death, of course?"the girl nodded, tears coming once more into her eyes.

"this morning, sir. the police came over. oh! it' s terrible! poorauntie! such a hard life as she' d had, too. and now this--it' s tooaw-ful. ' '

"the police did not suggest your returning to andover?""they said i must come to the inquest--that' s on monday, sir. buti' ve nowhere to go there--i couldn' t fancy being over the shop--now--andwhat with the housemaid being away. i didn' t want to putthe mistress out more than may be. "

"you were fond of your aunt, mary? said poirot gently.

"indeed i was, sir. very good she' s been to me always, auntie has. iwent to her in london when i was eleven years old, after mother died.

i started in service when i was sixteen, but i usually went along toauntie' s on my day out. a lot of trouble she went through with thatgerman fellow. ' my old devil, ' she used to call him. he' d never lether

be in peace anywhere. sponging, cadging old beast. "the girl spoke with vehemence.

"your aunt never thought of freeing herself by legal means from thispersecutiont'

, ' well, you see, he was her husband, sir, you couldn' t get away ftcthat. "

the girl spoke simply but with finality.

"tell me, mary, he threatened her, did he not?""oh, yes, sir, it was awful the things he used to say. that he' d cuththroat, and such like. cursing and swearing too--both in german ain english. and yet auntie says he was a fine handsome figure of a mwhen she married him. it' s dreadful to think, sir, what people comet?

"yes, indeed. and so, i suppose, mary, having actually heard thethreats, you were not so very surprised when you learnt what had halpened?"

"oh, but i was, sir. you see, sir, i never thought for one moment thhe meant it. i thought it was j ust nasty talk and nothing more to it.

aj

it isn' t as though auntie was afraid of him. why, i' ve seen him sliaway like a dog with its tail between its legs when she turned on hihe was afraid of her if you like. "

"and yet she gave him money?"

"well, he was her husband, you see, sir. "

"yes, so you said before. " he paused for a minute or two. then isaid. suppos that, after alt, he did not kill her. ""didn' t kill her?"

she stared.

"that is what i said. supposing some one else killed her. . . . ha'

you any idea who that some one else could be?"she stared at him with even more amazement.

"i' ve no idea, sir. it doesn' t seem likely, though, does itt'

"there was no one your aunt was afraid of?. "mary shook her head.

"auntie wasn' t afraid of people. she' d a sharp tongue and shestand up to anybody. "

"you never heard her mention any one who had a grudge againher?"

no, indeed, sin

"did she ever get anonymous letters?"

"what kind of letters did you say, sir?"

"letters that weren' t signed-or only signed by something ina. b. c. " he watched her narrowly, but plainly she was at a loss. sishook her head wonderingly.

"has your aunt any relations except you?"

"not now, sir. one of ten she was, but only three lived to grow umy uncle torn was killed in the war, and my uncle harry wentsouth america and no one' s heard of him since, and mother' s dead, ofcourse, so there' s only me. "

"had your aunt any savings? any money put byt'

"she' d a little in the savings bank, sir--enough to bury her proper,that' s what she always said. otherwise she didn' t more than j ust makeends meet--what with her old devil and all. "poirot nodded thoughtfully. he said---perhaps more to himself thanto her:

"at present one is in the dark--there is no direction--if things getclearer "he got up. "if i want you at any time, mary, i will write toyou here. "

"as a matter of fact, sir, i' m giving in my notice. i don' t like thecountry. i stayed here because i fancied it was a comfort to auntieto

have me near by. but now"--again the tears rose in her eyes--"there' sno reason i should stay, and so i' ll go back to london. it' s gayer foragirl there. "

"i wish that, when you do go, you would give me your address. hereis my card. "

he handed it to her. she looked at it with a puzzled frown.

"then you' re not--anything to do with the police, sir?

"i am a private detective. "

she stood there looking at him for some moments in silence.

she said at last:

"is there anything--queer going on, sir?"

"yes, my child. there is--something queer going on. later you mayhe able to help me. "

"i--i' ll do anything, sir. it--it wasn' t right, sir, auntie beingkilled. "

a strange way of putting it--but deeply moving.

a few seconds later we were driving back to andover.