‘It’s impossible,’ I said at last. ‘A well-known man like Hector Blunt.’ Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
‘Who knows? At least he is a man with big ideas. I confess that I hardly see him as a blackmailer, but there is another possibility that you have not even considered.’ ‘What is that?’ ‘The fire, my friend. Ackroyd himself may have destroyed that letter, blue envelope and all, after you left him.’ ‘I hardly think that likely,’ I said slowly. ‘And yet – of course, it may be so. He might have changed his mind.’ We had just arrived at my house, and on the spur of the moment I invited Poirot to come in and take pot luck.
I thought Caroline would be pleased with me, but it is hard to satisfy one’s womenfolk. It appears that we were eating chops for lunch – the kitchen staff being regaled on tripe and onions. And two chops set before three people are productive of embarrassment.
But Caroline is seldom daunted for long. With magnificent mendacity, she explained to Poirot that although James laughed at her for doing so, she adhered strictly to a vegetarian diet. She descanted ecstatically on the delights of nut cutlets (which I am quite sure she has never tasted) and ate a Welsh rarebit with gusto and frequent cutting remarks as to the dangers of ‘flesh’ foods.
Afterwards, when we were sitting in front of the fire and smoking, Caroline attacked Poirot directly.
‘Not found Ralph Paton yet?’ she asked.
‘Where should I find him, mademoiselle?’ ‘I thought, perhaps, you’d found him in Cranchester,’ said Caroline, with intense meaning in her tone.
Poirot looked merely bewildered.
‘In Cranchester? But why in Cranchester?’ I enlightened him with a touch of malice.
‘One of our ample staff of private detectives happened to see you in a car on the Cranchester road yesterday,’ I explained.
Poirot’s bewilderment vanished. He laughed heartily.
‘Ah, that! A simple visit to the dentist, c’est tout. My tooth, it aches. I go there. My tooth, it is at once better. I think to return quickly. The dentist, he says No. Better to have it out. I argue. He insists. He has his way! That particular tooth, it will never ache again.’ Caroline collapsed rather like a pricked balloon.
We fell to discussing Ralph Paton.
‘A weak nature,’ I insisted. ‘But not a vicious one.’ ‘Ah!’ said Poirot. ‘But weakness, where does it end?’ ‘Exactly,’ said Caroline. ‘Take James here – weak as water, if I weren’t about to look after him.’ ‘My dear Caroline,’ I said irritably, ‘can’t you talk without dragging in personalities?’ ‘You are weak, James,’ said Caroline, quite unmoved.
‘I’m eight years older than you are – oh! I don’t mind M.
Poirot knowing that ‘ ‘I should never have guessed it, mademoiselle,’ said Poirot, with a gallant little bow.
‘Eight years older. And I’ve always considered it my duty to look after you. With a bad bringing up. Heaven knows what mischief you might have got into by now.’ ‘I might have married a beautiful adventuress,’ I murmured, gazing at the ceiling, and blowing smoke rings.
‘Adventuress!’ said Caroline, with a snort. ‘If we’re talking of adventuresses ‘ She left the sentence unfinished.
‘Well?’ I said, with some curiosity.
‘Nothing. But I can think of someone not a hundred miles away.’ Then she turned to Poirot suddenly.
‘James sticks to it that you believe someone in the house committed the murder. All I can say is, you’re wrong.’ ‘I should not like to be wrong,’ said Poirot. ‘It is not how do you say – my metier?’ ‘I’ve got the facts pretty clearly,’ continued Caroline, taking no notice ofPoirot’s remark, ‘from James and others.
As far as I can see, of the people in the house, only two could have had the chance of doing it. Ralph Paton and Flora Ackroyd.’ ‘My dear Caroline-‘ ‘Now, James, don’t interrupt me. I know what I’m talking about. Parker met her outside the door, didn’t he?
He didn’t hear her uncle saying goodnight to her. She could have killed him then and there.’ ‘Caroline!’ ‘I’m not saying she did, James. I’m saying she could have done. As a matter of fact, though. Flora is like all these young girls nowadays, with no veneration for their betters and thinking they know best on every subject under the sun, I don’t for a minute believe she’d kill even a chicken.