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Blackmail
!
Ralph
Paton
may
have
been
the
man
who
blackmailed
Mrs
.
Ferrars
.
Remember
,
as
far
as
Hammond
knew
,
Ralph
Paton
had
not
applied
to
his
uncle
for
help
of
late
.
That
looks
as
though
he
were
being
supplied
with
money
elsewhere
.
Then
there
is
the
fact
that
he
was
in
some
–
how
do
you
say
–
scrape
?
–
which
he
feared
might
get
to
his
uncle
’
s
ears
.
And
finally
there
is
the
one
you
have
just
mentioned
.
"
"
Dear
me
,
"
I
said
,
rather
taken
aback
.
"
The
case
does
seem
black
against
him
.
"
"
Does
it
?
"
said
Poirot
.
"
That
is
where
we
disagree
,
you
and
I
.
Three
motives
–
it
is
almost
too
much
.
I
am
inclined
to
believe
that
,
after
all
,
Ralph
Paton
is
innocent
.
"
After
the
evening
talk
I
have
just
chronicled
,
the
affair
seemed
to
me
to
enter
on
a
different
phase
.
The
whole
thing
can
be
divided
into
two
parts
,
each
clear
and
distinct
from
the
other
.
Part
I
ranges
from
Ackroyd
’
s
death
on
the
Friday
evening
to
the
following
Monday
night
.
It
is
the
straightforward
narrative
of
what
occurred
,
as
presented
to
Hercule
Poirot
.
I
was
at
Poirot
’
s
elbow
the
whole
time
.
I
saw
what
he
saw
.
I
tried
my
best
to
read
his
mind
.
As
I
know
now
,
I
failed
in
this
latter
task
.
Though
Poirot
showed
me
all
his
discoveries
–
as
,
for
instance
,
the
gold
wedding
-
ring
–
he
held
back
the
vital
and
yet
logical
impressions
that
he
formed
.
As
I
came
to
know
later
,
this
secrecy
was
characteristic
of
him
.
He
would
throw
out
hints
and
suggestions
,
but
beyond
that
he
would
not
go
.
As
I
say
,
up
till
the
Monday
evening
,
my
narrative
might
have
been
that
of
Poirot
himself
.
I
played
Watson
to
his
Sherlock
.
But
after
Monday
our
ways
diverged
.
Poirot
was
busy
on
his
own
account
.
I
got
to
hear
of
what
he
was
doing
,
because
in
King
’
s
Abbot
,
you
get
to
hear
of
everything
,
but
he
did
not
take
me
into
his
confidence
beforehand
.
And
I
,
too
,
had
my
own
preoccupations
.
On
looking
back
,
the
thing
that
strikes
me
most
is
the
piecemeal
character
of
this
period
.
Everyone
had
a
hand
in
the
elucidation
of
the
mystery
.
It
was
rather
like
a
jigsaw
puzzle
to
which
everyone
contributed
their
own
little
piece
of
knowledge
or
discovery
.
But
their
task
ended
there
.
To
Poirot
alone
belongs
the
renown
of
fitting
those
pieces
into
their
correct
place
.
Some
of
the
incidents
seemed
at
the
time
irrelevant
and
unmeaning
.
There
was
,
for
instance
,
the
question
of
the
black
boots
.
But
that
comes
later
…
To
take
things
strictly
in
chronological
order
,
I
must
begin
with
the
summons
from
Mrs
.
Ackroyd
.
She
sent
for
me
early
on
Tuesday
morning
,
and
since
the
summons
sounded
an
urgent
one
,
I
hastened
there
,
expecting
to
find
her
in
extremis
.
The
lady
was
in
bed
.
So
much
did
she
concede
to
the
etiquette
of
the
situation
.
She
gave
me
her
bony
hand
,
and
indicated
a
chair
drawn
up
to
the
bedside
.
"
Well
,
Mrs
.
Ackroyd
,
"
I
said
,
"
and
what
’
s
the
matter
with
you
?
"
I
spoke
with
that
kind
of
spurious
geniality
which
seems
to
be
expected
of
general
practitioners
.
"
I
’
m
prostrated
,
"
said
Mrs
.
Ackroyd
in
a
faint
voice
.
"
Absolutely
prostrated
.
It
’
s
the
shock
of
poor
Roger
’
s
death
.
