“Aha,” cried Poirot, pouncing upon a note which lay on the table. “From Japp. Just as I thought.” He flung it over to me. It was brief and to the point. No traces of poison had been found, and there was nothing to show how the man came by his death.

“You see,” said Poirot, “our questions would have been quite unnecessary.”

“You guessed this beforehand?”

“ ‘Forecast the probable result of the deal,’ ” quoted Poirot from a recent bridge problem on which I had spent much time. “ Mon ami , when you do that successfully, you do not call it guessing.”

“Don’t let’s split hairs,” I said impatiently. “You foresaw this?”

“I did.”

“Why?”