‘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, arrested! But what could be his motive?’
‘One hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewellery is a very good motive for anyone. No, the question to my mind is: why kill her? Why not simply steal the jewels? She would not prosecute.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because she is a woman, mon ami. She once loved this man. Therefore she would suffer her loss in silence. And the Count, who is an extremely good psychologist where women are concerned—hence his successes—would know that perfectly well! On the other hand, if Rupert Carrington killed her, why take the jewels which would incriminate him fatally?’
‘As a blind.’
‘Perhaps you are right, my friend. Ah, here is Japp! I recognize his knock.’
The inspector was beaming good-humouredly.
‘Morning, Poirot. Only just got back. I’ve done some good work! And you?’
‘Me, I have arranged my ideas,’ replied Poirot placidly.
Japp laughed heartily.
‘Old chap’s getting on in years,’ he observed beneath his breath to me. ‘That won’t do for us young folk,’ he said aloud.
‘Quel dommage?’ Poirot inquired.
‘Well, do you want to hear what I’ve done?’
‘You permit me to make a guess? You have found the knife with which the crime was committed, by the side of the line between Weston and Taunton, and you have interviewed the paper-boy who spoke to Mrs Carrington at Weston!’
Japp’s jaw fell. ‘How on earth did you know? Don’t tell me it was those almighty ‘little grey cells” of yours!’
‘I am glad you admit for once that they are all mighty! Tell me, did she give the paper-boy a shilling for himself?’
‘No, it was half a crown!’ Japp had recovered his temper, and grinned. ‘Pretty extravagant, these rich Americans!’
‘And in consequence the boy did not forget her?’
‘Not he. Half-crowns don’t come his way every day. She hailed him and bought two magazines. One had a picture of a girl in blue on the cover. ‘That’ll match me,’ she said. Oh, he remembered her perfectly. Well, that was enough for me. By the doctor’s evidence, the crime must have been committed before Taunton. I guessed they’d throw the knife away at once, and I walked down the line looking for it; and sure enough, there it was. I made inquiries at Taunton about our man, but of course it’s a big station, and it wasn’t likely they’d notice him. He probably got back to London by a later train.’
Poirot nodded. ‘Very likely.’
‘But I found another bit of news when I got back. They’re passing the jewels, all right! That large emerald was pawned last night—by one of the regular lot. Who do you think it was?’
‘I don’t know—except that he was a short man.’
Japp stared. ‘Well, you’re right there. He’s short enough. It was Red Narky.’
‘Who is Red Narky?’ I asked.
‘A particularly sharp jewel-thief, sir. And not one to stick at murder. Usually works with a woman—Gracie Kidd; but she doesn’t seem to be in it this time—unless she’s got off to Holland with the rest of the swag.’
‘You’ve arrested Narky?’
‘Sure thing. But mind you, it’s the other man we want—the man who went down with Mrs Carrington in the train. He was the one who planned the job, right enough. But Narky won’t squeal on a pal.’
I noticed Poirot’s eyes had become very green.
‘I think,’ he said gently, ‘that I can find Narky’s pal for you, all right.’
‘One of your little ideas, eh?’ Japp eyed Poirot sharply. ‘Wonderful how you manage to deliver the goods sometimes, at your age and all. Devil’s own luck, of course.’
‘Perhaps, perhaps,’ murmured my friend. ‘Hastings, my hat. And the brush. So! My galoshes, if it still rains! We must not undo the good work of that tisane. Au revoir, Japp!’
‘Good luck to you, Poirot.’
Poirot hailed the first taxi we met, and directed the driver to Park Lane.
When we drew up before Halliday’s house, he skipped out nimbly, paid the driver and rang the bell. To the footman who opened the door he made a request in a low voice, and we were immediately taken upstairs. We went up to the top of the house, and were shown into a small neat bedroom. Poirot’s eyes roved round the room and fastened themselves on a small black trunk. He knelt in front of it, scrutinized the labels on it, and took a small twist of wire from his pocket.
‘Ask Mr Halliday if he will be so kind as to mount to me here,’ he said over his shoulder to the footman.
The man departed, and Poirot gently coaxed the lock of the trunk with a practised hand.
