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“
Oh
,
no
,
it
had
been
removed
.
You
would
like
to
see
it
?
To
make
sure
?
It
would
be
as
well
,
perhaps
,
though
madame
has
already
identified
it
.
Still
—
M
.
Bex
,
might
I
trouble
you
?
”
“
Certainly
,
M
.
le
juge
.
I
will
fetch
it
immediately
.
”
“
Would
it
not
be
better
to
take
M
.
Renauld
to
the
shed
?
”
suggested
Giraud
smoothly
.
“
Without
doubt
he
would
wish
to
see
his
father
’
s
body
.
”
The
boy
made
a
shivering
gesture
of
negation
,
and
the
magistrate
,
always
disposed
to
cross
Giraud
whenever
possible
,
replied
.
“
But
no
—
not
at
present
.
M
.
Bex
will
be
so
kind
as
to
bring
it
to
us
here
.
”
The
commissary
left
the
room
.
Stonor
crossed
to
Jack
,
and
wrung
him
by
the
hand
.
Poirot
had
risen
and
was
adjusting
a
pair
of
candlesticks
that
struck
his
trained
eye
as
being
a
shade
askew
.
The
magistrate
was
reading
the
mysterious
love
-
letter
through
a
last
time
,
clinging
desperately
to
his
first
theory
of
jealousy
and
a
stab
in
the
back
.
Suddenly
the
door
burst
open
and
the
commissary
rushed
in
.
“
M
.
le
juge
!
M
.
le
juge
!
”
“
But
yes
.
What
is
it
?
”
