Exceedingly lucky she’s been.’ ‘How’s that. Miss Gannett?’ asked the colonel. ‘I’ll Pung that Green Dragon. How do you make out that Miss Flora’s been lucky? Very charming girl and all that, I know.’ ‘I mayn’t know very much about crime,’ said Miss Gannett, with the air of one who knows everything there is to know, ‘but I can tell you one thing. The first question that’s always asked is “Who last saw the deceased alive?” And the person who did is regarded with suspicion. Now, Flora Ackroyd last saw her uncle alive. It might have looked very nasty for her – very nasty indeed. It’s my opinion – and I give it for what it’s worth, that Ralph Paton is staying away on her account, to draw suspicion away from her.’ ‘Come, now,’ I protested mildly, ‘you surely can’t suggest that a young girl like Flora Ackroyd is capable of stabbing her uncle in cold blood?’ ‘Well, I don’t know,’ said Miss Gannett. ‘I’ve just been reading a book from the library about the underworld of Paris, and it says that some of the worst women criminals are young girls with the faces of angels.’ ‘That’s in France,’ said Caroline instantly.
‘Just so,’ said the colonel. ‘Now, I’ll tell you a very curious thing – a story that was going round the Bazaars in India…’ The colonel’s story was one of interminable length, and of curiously little interest. A thing that happened in India many years ago cannot compare for a moment with an event that took place in King’s Abbot the day before yesterday.
It was Caroline who brought the colonel’s story to a close by fortunately going Mah Jong. After the slight unoleasantness always caused by my corrections of Caroline’s somewhat faulty arithmetic, we started a new hand.
‘East Wind passes,’ said Caroline. ‘I’ve got an idea of my own about Ralph Paton. Three Characters. But I’m keeping it to myself for the present.’ ‘Are you, dear?’ said Miss Gannett. ‘Chow – I mean Pung.’ ‘Yes,’ said Caroline firmly.
‘Was it all right about the boots?’ asked Miss Gannett.
‘Their being black, I mean?’ ‘Quite all right,’ said Caroline.
‘What was the point, do you think?’ asked Miss Gannett.
Caroline pursed up her lips, and shook her head with an air of knowing all about it.
‘Pung,’ said Miss Gannett. ‘No – Unpung. I suppose that now the doctor’s in with M. Poirot he knows all the secrets?’ ‘Far from it,’ I said.
‘James is so modest,’ said Caroline. ‘Ah! A concealed Kong.’ The colonel gave vent to a whistle. For the moment gossip was forgotten.
‘Your own wind, too,’ he-said. ‘And you’ve got two Pungs of Dragons. We must be careful. Miss Caroline’s out for a big hand.’ We played for some minutes with no irrelevant conversation.
‘This M. Poirot now,’ said Colonel Carter, ‘is he really such a great detective?’ ‘The greatest the world has ever known,’ said Caroline solemnly. ‘He has to come here incognito to avoid publicity.’ ‘Chow,’ said Miss Gannett. ‘Quite wonderful for our little village, I’m sure. By the way, Clara – my maid, you know is great friends with Elsie, the housemaid at Fernly, and what do you think Elsie told her? That there’s been a lot of money stolen, and it’s her opinion – Elsie’s – I mean, that the parlourmaid had something to do with it. She’s leaving at the month, and she’s crying a good deal at night. If you ask me, the girl is very likely in league with a gang. She’s always been a queer girl – she’s not friends with any of the girls round here. She goes off by herself on her days out very unnatural, I call it, and most suspicious. I asked her once to come to our Friendly Girls’ Evenings, but she refused, and then I asked her a few questions about her home and her family – all that sort of thing, and I’m bound to say I considered her manner most impertinent. Outwardly very respectful – but she shut me up in the most barefaced way.’ Miss Gannett stopped for breath, and the colonel, who was totally uninterested in the servant question, remarked that in the Shanghai Club brisk play was the invariable rule.