‘I remember Melisande,’ continued Blunt, ‘married an old chap old enough to be her father.’ He threw a small piece of flint into the goldfish pond.
Then, with a change of manner, he turned to Flora.
‘Miss Ackroyd, can I do anything? About Paton, I mean.
I know how dreadfully anxious you must be.’ ‘Thank you,’ said Flora in a cold voice. ‘There is really nothing to be done. Ralph will be all right. I’ve got hold of the most wonderful detective in the world, and he’s going to find out all about it.’ For some time I had felt uneasy as to our position. We were not exactly eavesdropping, since the two in the garden below had only to lift their heads to see us. Nevertheless, I should have drawn attention to our presence before now, had not my companion put a warning pressure on my arm.
Clearly he wished me to remain silent. Now, however, he acted briskly.
He rose quickly to his feet, clearing his throat.
‘I demand pardon,’ he cried. ‘I cannot allow mademoiselle thus extravagantly to compliment me, and not draw attention to my presence. They say the listener hears no good of himself, but that is not the case this time.
To spare my blushes, I must join you and apologize.’ He hurried down the path with me close behind him, and joined the others by the pond.
‘This is M. Hercule Poirot,’ said Flora. ‘I expect you’ve heard of him.’ Poirot bowed.
‘I know Major Blunt by reputation,’ he said politely. ‘I am glad to have encountered you, monsieur. I am in need of some information that you can give me.’ Blunt looked at him inquiringly.
‘When did you last see M. Ackroyd alive?’ ‘At dinner.’ ‘And you neither saw nor heard anything of him after that?’ ‘Didn’t see him. Heard his voice.’ ‘How was that?’ ‘I strolled out on the terrace ‘ ‘Pardon me, what time was that?’ ‘About half-past nine. I was walking up and down smoking in front of the drawing-room window. I heard Ackroyd talking in his study -‘ Poirot stopped and removed a microscopic weed.
‘Surely you couldn’t hear voices in the study from that part of the terrace,’ he murmured.
He was not looking at Blunt, but I was, and to my intense surprise, I saw the latter flush.
‘Went as far as the corner,’ he explained unwillingly.
‘Ah! indeed?’ said Poirot.
In the mildest manner he conveyed an impression that more was wanted.
‘Thought I saw – a woman disappearing into the bushes.
Just a gleam of white, you know. Must have been mistaken.
It was while I was standing at the corner of the terrace that I heard Ackroyd’s voice speaking to that secretary of his.’ ‘Speaking to Mr Geoffrey Raymond?’ ‘Yes – that’s what I supposed at the time. Seems I was wrong.’ ‘Mr Ackroyd didn’t address him by name?’ ‘Oh, no.’ ‘Then, if I may ask, why did you think – ?’ Blunt explained laboriously.
‘Took it for granted that it would be Raymond, because he had said just before I came out that he was taking some papers to Ackroyd. Never thought of it being anybody else.’ ‘Can you remember what the words you heard were?’ ‘Afraid I can’t. Something quite ordinary and unimportant.
Only caught a scrap of it. I was thinking of something else at the time.’ ‘It is of no importance,’ murmured Poirot. ‘Did you move a chair back against the wall when you went into the study after the body was discovered?’ ‘Chair? No, why should I?’ Poirot shrugged his shoulders but did not answer. He turned to Flora.
‘There is one thing I should like to know from you, mademoiselle. When you were examining the things in the silver table with Dr Sheppard, was the dagger in its place, or was it not?’ Flora’s chin shot up.
‘Inspector Raglan has been asking me that,’ she said resentfully. ‘I’ve told him, and I’ll tell you. I’m perfectly certain the dagger was not there. He thinks it was and that Ralph sneaked it later in the evening. And – and he doesn’t believe me. He thinks I’m saying it so – to shield Ralph.’ ‘And aren’t you?’ I asked gravely.