“You are going to prove that he did it?”

“A man cannot be tried twice for murder, Hastings. Endeavour to have the common sense. Ah, that is our friend’s ring.”

A few minutes later Signor Ascanio was ushered in⁠—a small, thin man with a secretive and furtive glance in his eyes. He remained standing, darting suspicious glances from one to the other of us.

“Monsieur Poirot?”

My little friend tapped himself gently on the chest.

“Be seated, signor. You received my note. I am determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. In some small measure you can aid me. Let us commence. You⁠—in company with a friend⁠—visited the late Count Foscatini on the morning of Tuesday the 9th⁠—”

The Italian made an angry gesture.

“I did nothing of the sort. I have sworn in court⁠—”