In a few words Poirot explained the situation.

Dr. Lutz said:

"Marrascaud? I read about the case in the paper. I should like to meet that man. There is some deep abnor­mality there! I should like to know the particulars of his childhood."

"As for me,"* said Hercule Poirot, "I should like to know exactly where he is at this moment."

Schwartz said:

"Isn't he one of the three we locked in the cupboard?"

"It is possible - yes, but I am not sure... I have an idea -..."

He broke off staring down at the carpet.

Hercule Poirot said:

"Footsteps - footsteps, I think, in blood and they lead from the unused wing of the hotel. Come - we must be quick!"

They followed him along a dim, dusty corridor. They turned the corner of it, still following the marks on the carpet until the tracks led them to a half-open doorway.

Poirot pushed the door open and entered.

He uttered a sharp, horrified exclamation. The room was a bedroom. In the middle of the floor lay the body of a man. There were a dozen wounds on his arms and chest and his head and face had been crushed.

Schwartz said faintly:

"Who is this man? Does anyone know?"

"I suppose," said Poirot, "that he was known here as Robert, a rather unskillful waiter."

Lutz had gone nearer, bending over the body. He pointed with a finger.

There was a paper pinned to the dead man's breast. He read:

"Marrascaud will kill no more - nor will he rob his friends!"

Schwartz cried out:

"Marrascaud? So this is Marrascaud! But what brought him up here? And why do you say his name is Robert?"

Poirot said:

"He was here masquerading as a waiter - and of course, he was a very bad waiter. So bad that no one was sur­prised when he was dismissed. And Marrascaud continued to live in this unused wing with no one but the manager knowing about it. Marrascaud must have offered him a big bribe to allow him to remain hidden in tfie unused part of the hotel."

Dr. Lutz said:

"And why was he killed? And who killed him?"

Schwartz said:

"That's easy. He was to .share out the money with his gang. He didn't. He came here, to this out of the way place,* because he thought it was the last place in the world they would think of. He was wrong. Somehow or other they found out where he was and followed him."

He touched the dead body with the tip of his shoe.

"And they settled his account - like this."

V

It was three days later that a little party of men ap­peared in front of the hotel.

It was Hercule Poirot who opened the front door to them.

"Welcome, mon ami."

Monsieur Lementeuil, Commissaire of Police, seized Poirot by both hands.