"They simply give you the opportunity to fully unfold your intelligence." Poirot comforted him. "By the way, what happened with the fingerprints?"
"Look, it's definitely murder. The gun had no fingerprints. It had been cleaned before placing it in her hand. Even if she managed to twist her hand above her head with some kind of remarkable acrobatic move, she wouldn't be able to pull the trigger without holding it, and she wouldn't be able to wipe it after her death."
"No, no, it's clear that someone else did it."
"Otherwise, the results of the fingerprint investigation are disappointing. There are none on the door handle or the window. That says a lot, doesn't it? Considering the rest of the space is full of Mrs. Allen's fingerprints."
"Did Jameson find anything?"
"From the cleaner's interrogation? No. Talkative, but she knew nothing. She confirmed that Allen and Plenderleith had a good relationship. I sent Jameson to ask other people in the neighborhood. And we should have a talk with Mr. Laverton-West. I found out where he was and what he did last night. Meanwhile, we'll take a look at her papers."