The little man opposite me shook his head with a faint smile. “One must always proceed with method. I made an error of judgment in asking you that question. To each man his own knowledge. You could tell me the details of the patient’s appearance—nothing there would escape you. If I wanted information about the papers on that desk, Mr. Raymond would have noticed anything there was to see. To find out about the fire, I must ask the man whose business it is to observe such things. You permit—”
He moved swiftly to the fireplace and rang the bell.
After a lapse of a minute or two Parker appeared.
“The bell rang, sir,” he said hesitatingly.
“Come in, Parker,” said Colonel Melrose. “This gentleman wants to ask you something.”
Parker transferred a respectful attention to Poirot.
“Parker,” said the little man, “when you broke down the door with Dr. Sheppard last night, and found your master dead, what was the state of the fire?”
Parker replied without a pause. “It had burned very low, sir. It was almost out.”
“Ah!” said Poirot. The exclamation sounded almost triumphant. He went on: “Look round you, my good Parker. Is this room exactly as it was then?”
The butler’s eye swept round. It came to rest on the windows.
“The curtains were drawn, sir, and the electric light was on.”
Poirot nodded approval. “Anything else?”
“Yes, sir, this chair was drawn out a little more.”