LITMIR.BIZ

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      ‘It was about the master’s build, sir – but I never thought of it being him. We so seldom saw him … I couldn’t say it wasn’t him!’

      Poirot picked up a pin from the carpet, and frowned at it severely; then he continued: ‘Would it be possible for the man to have entered the train at Bristol before you reached the carriage?’

      Mason considered.

      ‘Yes, sir, I think it would. My compartment was very crowded, and it was some minutes before I could get out – and then there was a very large crowd on the platform, and that delayed me too. But he’d only have had a minute or two to speak to the mistress, that way. I took it for granted that he’d come along the corridor.’

      ‘That is more probable, certainly.’

      He paused, still frowning.

      ‘You know how the mistress was dressed, sir?’

      ‘The papers give a few details, but I would like you to confirm them.’

      ‘She was wearing a white fox fur toque, sir, with a white spotted veil, and a blue frieze coat and skirt – the shade of blue they call electric.’

      ‘H’m, rather striking.’

      ‘Yes,’ remarked Mr Halliday. ‘Inspector Japp is in hopes that that may help us to fix the spot where the crime took place. Anyone who saw her would remember her.’

      ‘Précisément! – Thank you, mademoiselle.’

      The maid left the room.

      ‘Well!’ Poirot got up briskly. ‘That is all I can do here – except, monsieur, that I would ask you to tell me everything, but everything!’

      ‘I have done so.’

      ‘You are sure?’

      ‘Absolutely.’

      ‘Then there is nothing more to be said. I must decline the case.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because you have not been frank with me.’

      ‘I assure you –’

      ‘No, you are keeping something back.’

      There was a moment’s pause, and then Halliday drew a paper from his pocket and handed it to my friend.

      ‘I guess that’s what you’re after, Monsieur Poirot – though how you know about it fairly gets my goat!’

      Poirot smiled, and unfolded the paper. It was a letter written in thin sloping handwriting. Poirot read it aloud.

      ‘Chère Madame,

      It is with infinite pleasure that I look forward to the felicity of meeting you again. After your so amiable reply to my letter, I can hardly restrain my impatience. I have never forgotten those days in Paris. It is most cruel that you should be leaving London tomorrow. However, before very long, and perhaps sooner than you think, I shall have the joy of beholding once more the lady whose image has ever reigned supreme in my heart.

      Believe, chère madame, all the assurances of my most devoted and unaltered sentiments –

      ARMAND DE LA ROCHEFOUR.’

      Poirot handed the letter back to Halliday with a bow.

      ‘I fancy, monsieur, that you did not know that your daughter intended renewing her acquaintance with the Count de la Rochefour?’

      ‘It came as a thunderbolt to me! I found this letter in my daughter’s handbag. As you probably know, Monsieur Poirot, this so-called count is an adventurer of the worst type.’

      Poirot nodded.

      ‘But I want to know how you knew of the existence of this letter?’

      My friend smiled. ‘Monsieur, I did not. But to track footmarks and recognize cigarette-ash is not sufficient for a detective. He must also be a good psychologist! I knew that you disliked and mistrusted your son-in-law. He benefits by your daughter’s death; the maid’s description of the mysterious man bears a sufficient resemblance to him. Yet you are not keen on his track! Why? Surely because your suspicions lie in another direction. Therefore you were keeping something back.’

      ‘You’re right, Monsieur Poirot. I was sure of Rupert’s guilt until I found this letter. It unsettled me horribly.’

      ‘Yes. The Count says “Before very long, and perhaps sooner than you think.” Obviously he would not want to wait until you should get wind of his reappearance. Was it he who travelled down from London by the twelve-fourteen, and came along the corridor to your daughter’s compartment? The Count de la Rochefour is also, if I remember rightly, tall and dark!’

      The millionaire nodded.

      ‘Well, monsieur, I will wish you good day. Scotland Yard has, I presume, a list of the jewels?’

      ‘Yes, I believe Inspector Japp is here now if you would like to see him.’

      Japp was an old friend of ours, and greeted Poirot with a sort of affectionate contempt.

      ‘And how are you, monsieur? No bad feeling between us, though we have got our different ways of looking at things. How are the “little grey cells”, eh? Going strong?’

      Poirot beamed upon him. ‘They function, my good Japp; assuredly they do!’

      ‘Then that’s all right. Think it was the Honourable Rupert, or a crook? We’re keeping an eye on all the regular places, of course. We shall know if the shiners are disposed of, and of course whoever did it isn’t going to keep them to admire their sparkle. Not likely! I’m trying to find out where Rupert Carrington was yesterday. Seems a bit of a mystery about it. I’ve got a man watching him.’

      ‘A great precaution, but perhaps a day late,’ suggested Poirot gently.

      ‘You always will have your joke, Monsieur Poirot. Well, I’m off to Paddington. Bristol, Weston, Taunton, that’s my beat. So long.’

      ‘You will come round and see me this evening, and tell me the result?’

      ‘Sure thing, if I’m back.’

      ‘The good inspector believes in matter in motion,’ murmured Poirot as our friend departed. ‘He travels; he measures footprints; he collects mud and cigarette-ash! He is extremely busy! He is zealous beyond words! And if I mentioned psychology to him, do you know what he would do, my friend? He would smile! He would say to himself: “Poor old Poirot! He ages! He grows senile!” Japp is the “younger generation knocking on the door.” And ma foi! They are so busy knocking that they do not notice that the door is open!’

      ‘And what are you going to do?’

      ‘As we have carte blanche, I shall expend threepence in ringing up the Ritz – where you may have noticed our Count is staying. After that, as my feet are a little damp, and I have sneezed twice, I shall return to my rooms and make myself a tisane over the spirit lamp!’

      I did not see Poirot again until the following morning. I found him placidly finishing his breakfast.

      ‘Well?’ I inquired eagerly. ‘What has happened?’

      ‘Nothing.’

      ‘But Japp?’

      ‘I have not seen him.’

      ‘The Count?’

      ‘He left the Ritz the day before yesterday.’

      ‘The day of the murder?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Then that settles it! Rupert Carrington is cleared.’

      ‘Because the Count de la Rochefour has left the Ritz? You go too fast, my friend.’

      ‘Anyway, he must be followed,

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