The Monogram Murders by Sophie Hannah Read Free Book Online Page A

contained an impressive array of
    dresses. “Have a look in there—there isn’t room to
    squeeze in even one petticoat because of the number
    of garments she brought with her. She wanted to be
    certain of looking her best, that’s for sure.”
    “You are right,” said Poirot. “Lazzari said that they
    all ordered dinner, but we will check exactly what
    was ordered to each room. Poirot, he would not make
    the mistake of the assumption if it were not for Jennie
    weighing on his mind—Jennie, whose whereabouts he
    does not know! Jennie, who is more or less the same
    age as the three we have here—between forty and
    forty-five, I think.”
    I turned away while Poirot did whatever he did
    with the mouths and the cufflinks. While he conducted
    his forays and emitted various exclamations, I stared
    into fireplaces and out of windows, avoided thinking
    about hands that would never again be held, and
    pondered my crossword puzzle and where I might be
    going wrong. For some weeks I had been trying to
    compose one that was good enough to be sent to a
    newspaper to be considered for publication, but I
    wasn’t having much success.
    After we had looked at all three rooms, Poirot
    insisted that we return to the one on the second floor
    —Richard Negus’s, number 238. Would I find it any
    easier to enter these rooms, I wondered, the more I
    did it? So far the answer was no. Walking once again
    into Negus’s hotel room felt like forcing my heart to
    climb the most perilous mountain, in the certain
    knowledge that it would be left stranded as soon as it
    reached the top.
    Poirot—unaware of my distress, which I
    concealed effectively, I hope—stood in the middle of
    the room and said, “ Bon. This is the one that is most
    different from the others, n’est-ce pas ? Ida Gransbury
    has the tray and the additional teacup in her room, it is
    true, but here there is the sherry glass instead of the
    teacup, and here we have one window open to its full
    capacity, while in the other two rooms all the
    windows are closed. Mr. Negus’s room is intolerably
    cold.”
    “This is how it was when Monsieur Lazzari
    walked in and found Negus dead,” I said. “Nothing’s
    been altered in any way.”
    Poirot walked over to the open window. “Here is
    Monsieur Lazzari’s wonderful view that he offered to
    show me—of the hotel’s gardens. Both Harriet Sippel
    and Ida Gransbury had rooms on the other side of the
    hotel, with views of the ‘splendid London.’ Do you
    see these trees, Catchpool?”
    I told him that I did, wondering if he had me down
    as a colossal idiot. How could I fail to see trees that
    were directly outside the window?
    “Another difference here is the position of the
    cufflink,” said Poirot. “Did you notice that? In Harriet
    Sippel’s and Ida Gransbury’s mouths, the cufflink is
    slightly protruding between the lips. Whereas Richard
    Negus has the cufflink much farther back, almost at the
    entrance to the throat.”
    I opened my mouth to object, then changed my
    mind, but it was too late. Poirot had seen the argument
    in my eyes. “What is it?” he asked.
    “I think you’re being a touch pedantic,” I said. “All
    three victims have monogrammed cufflinks in their
    mouths—the same initials on each one, PIJ. That’s
    something they have in common. It isn’t a difference.
    No matter which of their teeth the cufflink happens to
    be next to.”
    “But it is a very big difference! The lips, the
    entrance to the throat—these are not the same place,
    not at all.” Poirot walked over so that he was standing
    right in front of me. “Catchpool, please remember
    what I am about to tell you. When three murders are
    almost identical, the smallest divergent details are of
    the utmost importance.”
    Was I supposed to remember these wise words
    even if I disagreed with them? Poirot needn’t have
    worried. I remember nearly every word he has
    spoken in my presence, and the ones that infuriated me
    most are the