But this is horrible!
Yes, it is horrible.
Were up against a homicidal maniac.
Yes.
His quietness was more impressive than any heroics could have been. I handed back the letter with a shudder.
The following morning saw us at a conference of powers. The Chief Constable of Sussex, the Assistant Commissioner[121] of the CID, Inspector Glen from Andover, Superintendent Carter of the Sussex police, Japp and a younger inspector called Crome, and Dr Thompson, the famous alienist, were all assembled together. The postmark on this letter was Hampstead, but in Poirots opinion little importance could be attached to this fact.
The matter was discussed fully. Dr Thompson was a pleasant middle-aged man who, in spite of his learning, contented himself with homely language, avoiding the technicalities of his profession.
Theres no doubt, said the Assistant Commissioner, that the two letters are in the same hand. Both were written by the same person.
And we can fairly assume that that person was responsible for the Andover murder.
Quite. Weve now got definite warning of a second crime scheduled to take place on the 25ththe day after tomorrowat Bexhill. What steps can be taken?
The Sussex Chief Constable looked at his superintendent.
Well, Carter, what about it?
The superintendent shook his head gravely.
Its difficult, sir. Theres not the least clue towards whom the victim may be. Speaking fair and square[122], what steps can we take?
A suggestion, murmured Poirot.
Their faces turned to him.
I think it possible that the surname of the intended victim will begin with the letter B.
That would be something, said the superintendent doubtfully.
An alphabetical complex, said Dr Thompson thoughtfully.
I suggest it as a possibilityno more. It came into my mind when I saw the name Ascher clearly written over the shop door of the unfortunate woman who was murdered last month. When I got the letter naming Bexhill it occurred to me as a possibility that the victim as well as the place might be selected by an alphabetical system.
Its possible, said the doctor. On the other hand, it may be that the name Ascher was a coincidencethat the victim this time, no matter what her name is, will again be an old woman who keeps a shop. Were dealing, remember, with a madman. So far he hasnt given us any clue as to motive.
Has a madman any motive, sir? asked the superintendent sceptically.
Of course he has, man. A deadly logic is one of the special characteristics of acute mania. A man may believe himself divinely appointed to kill clergymenor doctorsor old women in tobacco shopsand theres always some perfectly coherent reason behind it. We mustnt let the alphabetical business run away with[123] us. Bexhill succeeding to Andover may be a mere coincidence.
We can at least take certain precautions, Carter, and make a special note of the Bs, especially small shopkeepers, and keep a watch on all small tobacconists and newsagents looked after by a single person. I dont think theres anything more we can do than that. Naturally, keep tabs on[124] all strangers as far as possible.
The superintendent uttered a groan.
With the schools breaking up and the holidays beginning? People are fairly flooding into the place this week.
We must do what we can, the Chief Constable said sharply.
Inspector Glen spoke in his turn.
Ill have a watch kept on anyone connected with the Ascher business. Those two witnesses, Partridge and Riddell, and of course Ascher himself. If they show any sign of leaving Andover theyll be followed.
The conference broke up after a few more suggestions and a little desultory conversation.
Poirot, I said as we walked along by the river. Surely this crime can be prevented?
He turned a haggard face to me.
The sanity of a city full of men against the insanity of one man? I fear, HastingsI very much fear. Remember the long-continued successes of Jack the Ripper[125].
Its horrible, I said.
Madness, Hastings, is a terrible thing I am afraid I am very much afraid
Chapter 9
The Bexhill-on-Sea Murder
I still remember my awakening on the morning of the 25th of July. It must have been about seven-thirty.
Poirot was standing by my bedside gently shaking me by the shoulder. One glance at his face brought me from semi-consciousness into the full possession of my faculties.
What is it? I demanded, sitting up rapidly.
His answer came quite simply, but a wealth of emotion lay behind the three words he uttered.
It has happened.
What? I cried. You meanbut today is the 25th.
It took place last nightor rather in the early hours of this morning.
As I sprang from bed and made a rapid toilet, he recounted briefly what he had just learnt over the telephone.
The body of a young girl has been found on the beach at Bexhill. She has been identified as Elizabeth Barnard, a waitress in one of the cafés, who lived with her parents in a little recently built bungalow. Medical evidence gave the time of death as between 11.30 and 1 am.
Theyre quite sure that this is the crime? I asked, as I hastily lathered my face.
An ABC open at the trains to Bexhill was found actually under the body.