Maitre Thibault received Poirot and Fournier with great affability.
After an interchange of compliments and polite questions and answers, the lawyer settled down to the discussion of Madame Giselle's heiress.
'I received a letter yesterday,' he said. 'And this morning the young lady herself called upon me.'
'What age is Mademoiselle Morisot?'
'Mademoiselle Morisot – or rather Mrs Richards; for she is married – is exactly twenty-four years of age.'
'She brought documents to prove her identity?' said Fournier.
'Certainly. Certainly.'
He opened a file at his elbow.
'To begin with, there is this.'
It was a copy of a marriage certificate between George Leman, bachelor, and Marie Morisot, both of Quebec. Its date was 1910. There was also the birth certificate of Anne Morisot Leman. There were various other documents and papers.
'This throws a certain light on the early life of Madame Giselle,' said Fournier.
Thibault nodded.
'As far as I can piece it out,' he said, 'Marie Morisot was nursery governess or sewing maid when she met this man Leman.
'He was, I gather, a bad lot who deserted her soon after the marriage, and she resumed her maiden name.
'The child was received in the Institut de Marie at Quebec and was brought up there. Marie Morisot, or Leman, left Quebec shortly afterwards – I imagine with a man – and came to France. She remitted sums of money from time to time and finally dispatched a lump sum of ready money to be given to the child on attaining the age of twenty-one. At that time, Marie Morisot, or Leman, was no doubt living an irregular life, and considered it better to sunder any personal relations.'
'How did the girl realize that she was the heiress to a fortune?'
'We have inserted discreet advertisements in various journals. It seems one of these came to the notice of the principal of the Institut de Marie and she wrote or telegraphed to Mrs Richards, who was then in Europe, but on the point of returning to the States.'
'Who is Richards?'
'I gather he is an American or Canadian from Detroit; by profession a maker of surgical instruments.'
'He did not accompany his wife?'
'No, he is still in America.'
'Is Mrs Richards able to throw any light upon a possible reason for her mother's murder?'
The lawyer shook his head.
'She knows nothing about her. In fact, although she had once heard the principal mention it, she did not even remember what her mother's maiden name was.'
'It looks,' said Fournier, 'as though her appearance on the scene is not going to be of any help in solving the murder problem. Not, I must admit, that I ever thought it would. I am on quite another tack at present. My inquiries have narrowed down to a choice of three persons.'
'Four,' said Poirot.
'You think four?'
'It is not I who say four. But on the theory that you advanced to me you cannot confine yourself to three persons.' He made a sudden rapid motion with his hands. 'The two cigarette holders, the Kurdish pipes and a flute. Remember the flute, my friend.'
Fournier gave an exclamation, but at that moment the door opened and an aged clerk mumbled:
'The lady has returned.'
'Ah,' said Thibault. 'Now you will be able to see the heiress for yourself… Come in, madame. Let me present to you M. Fournier, of the Surete, who is in charge in this country of the inquiries into your mother's death. This is M. Hercule Poirot, whose name may be familiar to you and who is kindly giving us his assistance. Madame Richards.'
Giselle's daughter was a dark chic-looking young woman. She was very smartly, though plainly, dressed.
She held out her hand to each of the men in turn, murmuring a few appreciative words.
'Though I fear, messieurs, that I have hardly the feeling of a daughter in the matter. I have been to all intents and purposes an orphan all my life.'
In answer to Fournier's questions, she spoke warmly and gratefully of Mere Angelique, the head of the Institut de Marie.
'She has always been kindness itself to me.'
'You left the Institut – when, madame?'
'When I was eighteen, monsieur. I started to earn my living. I was, for a time, a manicurist. I have also been in a dressmaker's establishment. I met my husband in Nice. He was then just returning to the States. He came over again on business to Holland and we were married in Rotterdam a month ago. Unfortunately, he had to return to Canada. I was detained, but I am now about to rejoin him.'
Anne Richard's French was fluent and easy. She was clearly more French than English.
'You heard of the tragedy – how?'
'Naturally, I read of it in me papers. But I did not know – that is, I did not realize – that the victim in the case was my mother. Then I received a telegram here in Paris from Mere Angelique giving me the address of Maitre Thibault and reminding me of my mother's maiden name.'
Fournier nodded thoughtfully.
They talked a little further, but it seemed clear that Mrs Richards could be of little assistance to them in their search for the murderer. She knew nothing at all of her mother's life or business relations.
Having elicited the name of the hotel at which she was staying, Poirot and Fournier took leave of her.
'You are disappointed, mon vieux,' said Fournier. 'You have some idea in your brain about this girl? Did you suspect that she might be an impostor? Or do you, in fact, still suspect that she is an impostor?'
Poirot shook his head in a discouraged manner.
'No, I do not think she is an impostor. Her proofs of identity sound genuine enough. It is odd, though; I feel that I have either seen her before, or that she reminds me of someone.'
'A likeness to the dead woman?' suggested Fournier doubtfully. 'Surely not.'
'No, it is not that. I wish I could remember what it was. I am sure her face reminds me of someone.'
Fournier looked at him curiously.
'You have always, I think, been intrigued by the missing daughter.'
'Naturally,' said Poirot, his eyebrows rising a little. 'Of all the people who may or may not benefit by Giselle's death, this young woman does benefit very definitely in hard cash.'
'True, but does that get us anywhere?'
Poirot did not answer for a minute or two. He was following the train of his own thoughts. He said at last:
'My friend, a very large fortune passes to this girl. Do you wonder that, from the beginning, I speculated as to her being implicated? There were three women on that plane. One of them. Miss Venetia Kerr, was of well-known and authenticated family. But the other two? Ever since Elise Grandier advanced the theory that the father of Madame Giselle's child was an Englishman, I have kept it in my mind that one of the two other women might conceivably be this daughter. They were both of approximately the right age. Lady Horbury was a chorus girl whose antecedents were somewhat obscure and who acted under a stage name. Miss Jane Grey, as she once told me, had been brought up in an orphanage.'
'Ah-ha!' said the Frenchman. 'So that is the way your mind has been running? Our friend Japp would say that you were being overingenious.'
'It is true that he always accuses me of preferring to make things difficult.'
'You see?'
'But as a matter of fact, it is not true. I proceed always in the simplest manner imaginable! And I never
