Poirot remembered Mrs Rendell's frightened air. Her mention of anonymous letters, and her insistence that she did not believe anything they said. He remembered, too, her certainty that his inquiry about Mrs McGinty was only a pretext.
He said," I should imagine that it was not only the Police who got anonymous letters."
"Sent them to her, too?"
"I think so. When I appeared in Broadhinny, she thought I was on her husband's track, and that the McGinty business was a pretext. Yes - and he thought so, too... That explains it! It was Dr Rendell who tried to push me under the train that night!"
"Think he'll have a shot at doing this wife in, too?"
"I think she would be wise not to insure her life in his favour," said Poirot dryly. "But if he believes we have an eye on him he will probably be prudent."
"We'll do what we can. We'll keep an eye on our doctor, and make it clear we're doing so."
Poirot raised his brandy glass.
"To Mrs Oliver," he said.
"What put her into your head suddenly?"
"Woman's intuition," said Poirot.
There was silence for a moment, then Spence said slowly:
"Robin Upward is coming up for trial next week. You know, Poirot, I can't help feeling doubtful -"
Poirot interrupted him with horror.
"Mon Dieu! You are not now doubtful about Robin Upward's guilt, are you? Do not say you want to start over again."
Superintendent Spence grinned reassuringly.
"Good Lord, no. He's a murderer all right!" He added: "Cocky enough for anything!"
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