Poirot laid down the receiver quickly.
Battle was staring at him.
'What's the big idea, Monsieur Poirot?' he asked quietly.
Poirot took him by the arm.
'Listen, my friend. A few minutes after I left this house yesterday, Anne Meredith arrived. I actually saw her going up the steps, though I was not quite sure of her identity at the time. Immediately after Anne Meredith left Mrs. Lorrimer went to bed. As far as the maid knows, she did not write any letters then, and, for reasons which you will understand when I recount to you our interview, I do not believe that she wrote those three letters before my visit. When did she write them, then?'
'After the servants had gone to bed?' suggested Battle.
'That is possible, yes, but there is another possibility – that she did not write them at all.'
Battle whistled. 'My God, you mean -'
The telephone trilled. The sergeant picked up the receiver. He listened a minute, then turned to Battle.
'Sergeant O'Connor speaking from Despard's flat, sir. There's reason to believe that Despard's down at Wallingford-on-Thames.'
Poirot caught Battle by the arm. 'Quickly, my friend. We, too, must go to Wallingford. I tell you I am not easy in my mind. This may not be the end. I tell you again, my friend, this young lady, she is dangerous.'
Chapter 29
ACCIDENT
'Anne,' said Rhoda.
'Mmm?'
'No, really, Anne, don't answer with half your mind on a crossword puzzle. I want you to attend to me.'
'I am attending.'
Anne sat bolt upright and put down the paper.
'That's better. Look here, Anne.' Rhoda hesitated. 'About this man coming.'
'Superintendent Battle?'
'Yes. Anne, I wish you'd tell him – about being at the Bensons'.'
Anne's voice grew rather cold.
'Nonsense, why should I?'
'Because – well, it might look as though you'd been keeping something back. I'm sure it would be better to mention it.'
'I can't very well now,' said Anne coldly.
'I wish you had in the first place.'
'Well, it's too late to bother about that now.'
'Yes.' Rhoda did not sound convinced.
Anne said rather irritably, 'In any case I can't see why. It's got nothing to do with all this.'
'No, of course not.'
'I was only there about two months. He only wants these things as – well – references. Two months doesn't count.'
'No, I know. I expect I'm being foolish, but it does worry me rather. I feel you ought to mention it. You see, if it came out some other way, it might look rather bad – your keeping dark about it, I mean.'
'I don't see how it can come out. Nobody knows but you.'
'N-No?'
Anne pounced on the slight hesitation in Rhoda's voice.
'Why, who does know?'
'Well, everyone at Combeacre,' said Rhoda after a moment's pause.
'Oh, that!' Anne dismissed it with a shrug. 'The superintendent isn't likely to come up against anyone from there. It would be an extraordinary coincidence if he did.'
'Coincidences happen.'
'Rhoda, you're being extraordinary about this. Fuss, fuss, fuss.'
'I'm terribly sorry, darling. Only you know what the police might be like if they thought you were – well – hiding things.'
'They won't know. Who's to tell them? Nobody knows but you.'
It was the second time she had said those words. At this second repetition her voice changed a little – something queer and speculative came into it.
'Oh, dear, I wish you would,' sighed Rhoda unhappily. She looked guiltily at Anne but Anne was not looking at her. She was sitting with a frown on her face, as though working out some calculation.
'Rather fun Major Despard turning up,' said Rhoda.
'What? Oh, yes.'
'Anne, he is attractive. If you don't want him, do, do, do hand him over to me!'
'Don't be absurd, Rhoda. He doesn't care tuppence for me.'
'Then why does he keep on turning up? Of course, he's keen on you. You're just the sort of distressed damsel that he'd enjoy rescuing. You look so beautifully helpless, Anne.'
'He's equally pleasant to both of us.'
'That's only his niceness. But if you don't want him, I could do the sympathetic friend act – console his broken heart, and in the end I might get him, who knows?' Rhoda concluded inelegantly.
'I'm sure you're quite welcome to him, my dear,' said Anne, laughing.
'He's got such a lovely back to his neck,' sighed Rhoda. 'Very brick red and muscular.'
'Darling, must you be so mawkish?'
'Do you like him, Anne?'
'Yes, very much.'
'Aren't we prim and sedate? I think he likes me a little – not as much as you, but a little.'
'Oh, but he does like you,' said Anne.
Again there was an unusual note in her voice, but Rhoda did not hear it.
'What time is our sleuth coming?' she asked.
'Twelve,' said Anne. She was silent for a minute or two, then she said, 'It's only half-past ten now. Let's go out on the river.'
'But isn't – didn't – didn't Despard say he'd come round about eleven?'
'Why should we wait in for him? We can leave a message with Mrs. Astwell which way we've gone and he can follow us along the towpath.'
'In fact, don't make yourself cheap, dear, as Mother always said!' laughed Rhoda. 'Come on, then.'
She went out of the room and through the garden door. Anne followed her.
Major Despard called at Wendon Cottage about ten minutes later. He was before his time, he knew, so was a little surprised to find both girls had already gone out. He went through the garden and across the fields and turned to the right along the towpath.
Mrs. Astwell remained a minute or two looking after him instead of getting on with her morning chores.
'Sweet on one or other of 'em, he is,' she observed to herself. 'I think it's Miss Anne, but I'm not certain. He don't give away much by his face. Treats 'em both alike. I'm not sure they ain't both sweet on him, too. If so, they won't be such dear friends so much longer. Nothing like a gentleman for coming between two young ladies.'
Pleasurably excited by the prospect of assisting at a budding romance, Mrs. Astwell turned indoors to her task of washing up the breakfast things, when once again the doorbell rang.
'Drat that door,' said Mrs. Astwell. 'Do it on purpose, they do. Parcel, I suppose. Or might be a telegram.' She moved slowly to the front door.
Two gentlemen stood there, a small foreign gentleman and an exceedingly English, big burly gentleman. The
