“Yes, that is my opinion. But there is no ‘of course’ about it, my friend. Technically speaking, Madame Beroldy is innocent.”
“Of that crime, perhaps. But not of this.”
Poirot sat down again, and regarded me, his thoughtful air more marked than ever.
“So it is definitely your opinion, Hastings, that Madame Daubreuil murdered M. Renauld?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He shot the question at me with such suddenness that I was taken aback.
“Why?” I stammered. “Why? Oh, because—” I came to a stop.
Poirot nodded his head at me.
“You see, you come to a stumbling-block at once. Why should Madame Daubreuil (I shall call her that for clearness sake) murder M. Renauld? We can find no shadow of a motive. She does not benefit by his death; considered as either mistress or blackmailer she stands to lose. You cannot have a murder without a motive. The first crime was different, there we had a rich lover waiting to step into her husband’s shoes.”