I shuddered.
"How long had he been shut up?" asked Poirot.
"A matter of two years now."
"I see," said Poirot quietly. "It never occurred to anybody that he might—be sane?"
The keeper permitted himself to laugh.
"If he was sane, what would he be doing in a lunatic asylum? They all say they're sane, you know."
Poirot said no more. He took the man in to see the body. The identification came immediately.
"That's him—right enough," said the keeper callously; "funny sort of bloke, ain't he? Well, gentlemen, I had best go off now and make arrangements under the circumstances. We won't trouble you with the corpse much longer. If there's a hinquest, you will have to appear at it, I dare say. Good morning, sir."
With a rather uncouth bow he shambled out of the room.
A few minutes later Japp arrived. The Scotland Yard Inspector was jaunty and dapper as usual.