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"
Ah
!
"
The
doctor
had
been
delicately
exploring
the
pyjama
pockets
of
the
dead
man
.
"
I
overlooked
this
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
unbuttoned
the
jacket
and
threw
it
straight
back
.
"
From
the
breast
pocket
he
brought
out
a
gold
watch
.
The
case
was
dented
savagely
,
and
the
hands
pointed
to
a
quarter
past
one
.
"
You
see
?
"
cried
Constantine
eagerly
.
"
This
gives
us
the
hour
of
the
crime
.
It
agrees
with
my
calculations
.
Between
midnight
and
two
in
the
morning
is
what
I
said
,
and
probably
about
one
o'clock
,
though
it
is
difficult
to
be
exact
in
these
matters
.
Eh
bien
,
here
is
confirmation
.
A
quarter
past
one
.
That
was
the
hour
of
the
crime
.
"
"
It
is
possible
,
yes
.
It
is
certainly
possible
.
"
The
doctor
looked
at
him
curiously
.
"
You
will
pardon
me
,
M.
Poirot
,
but
I
do
not
quite
understand
you
.
"
"
I
do
not
understand
myself
,
"
said
Poirot
.
"
I
understand
nothing
at
all
,
and
,
as
you
perceive
,
it
worries
me
.
"
He
sighed
and
bent
over
the
little
table
,
examining
the
charred
fragment
of
paper
.
He
murmured
to
himself
.
