Probably, at this minute, too, he hears the sounds below of Mr.
Wells and John leaving the boudoir. He must act quickly. Where
can he hide this terrible slip of paper? The contents of the
waste-paper-basket are kept and in any case, are sure to be
examined. There are no means of destroying it; and he dare not
keep it. He looks round, and he sees--what do you think, mon
ami?"
I shook my head.
"In a moment, he has torn the letter into long thin strips, and
rolling them up into spills he thrusts them hurriedly in amongst
the other spills in the vase on the mantle-piece."
I uttered an exclamation.
"No one would think of looking there," Poirot 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.
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