FIVE, SIX, PICKING UP STICKS
I
Twenty-four hours later Japp rang Poirot up. His tone was bitter.
“Washout! The whole thing!”
“What do you mean, my friend?”
“Morley committed suicide all right. We’ve got the motive¹.”
“What was it?”
“I’ve just had the doctor’s report on Amberiotis’ death. I won’t give you the official jargon² but
in plain English he died as a result of an overdose of adrenaline and novocaine. It acted on his
heart, I understand, and he collapsed³. When the wretched devil said he was feeling bad yesterday
afternoon, he was just speaking the truth. Well, there you are! Adrenaline and procaine is the stuff
dentists inject into your gum—local anesthetic⁵. Morley made an error, injected an overdose, and
then after Amberiotis left, he realized what he had done, couldn’t face the music and shot
himself.”
“With a pistol he was not known to possess?” queried⁶ Poirot.
“He may have possessed⁷ it all the same. Relations don’t know everything. You’d be surprised
sometimes, the things they don’t know!”
“That is true, yes.”
Japp said:
“Well, there you are. It’s a perfectly⁸ logical explanation of the whole thing.”
Poirot said:
“You know, my friend, it does not quite satisfy me. It is true that patients have been known to
react unfavourably to these local anesthetics. Adrenaline idiosyncrasy is well- known. In
combination with procaine toxic⁹ effects have followed quite small doses. But the doctor or dentist
who employed the drug does not usually carry his concern as far as

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