The superintendent went into a roar of laughter.
‘Many’s the time I’ve heard Inspector Japp say that. M.
Poirot and his little ideas! Too fanciful for me, he’d say, but always something in them.’ ‘You mock yourself at me,’ said Poirot, smiling; ‘but never mind. The old ones they laugh last sometimes, when the young, clever ones do not laugh at all.’ And nodding his head at them in a sage manner he walked out into the street.
He and I lunched together at an hotel. I know now that the whole thing lay clearly unravelled before him. He had got the last thread he needed to lead him to the truth.
But at the time I had no suspicion of the fact. I overestimated his general self-confidence, and I took it for granted that the things which puzzled me must be equally puzzling to him.
My chief puzzle was what the man Charles Kent could have been doing at Fernly. Again and again I put the question to myself and could get no satisfactory reply. At last I ventured a tentative query to Poirot. His reply was immediate.
‘Mon ami, I do not think, I know.’ ‘Really?’ I said incredulously.
‘Yes, indeed. I suppose now that to you it would not make sense if I said that he went to Fernly that night because he was born in Kent?’ I stared at him.
‘It certainly doesn’t seem to make sense to me,’ I said drily.
‘Ah!’ said Poirot pityingly. ‘Well, no matter. I have still my little idea.’
CHAPTER 18 Flora Ackroyd
As I was returning from my round the following morning, I was hailed by Inspector Raglan. I pulled up, and the inspector mounted on the step.
‘Good morning, Dr Sheppard,’ he said. ‘Well, that alibi is all right enough.’ ‘Charles Kent’s?’ ‘Charles Kent’s. The barmaid at the Dog and Whistle, Sally Jones, she remembers him perfectly. Picked out his photograph from among five others. It was just a quarter to ten when he came into the bar, and the Dog and Whistle is well over a mile from Fernly Park. The girl mentions that he had a lot of money on him – she saw him take a handful of notes out of his pocket. Rather surprised her, it did, seeing the class of fellow he was, with a pair of boots clean dropping off him. That’s where that forty pounds went right enough.’ ‘The man still refuses to give an account of his visit to Fernly?’ ‘Obstinate as a mule he is. I had a chat with Hayes at Liverpool over the wire this morning.’ ‘Hercule Poirot says he knows the reason the man went there that night,’ I observed.
‘Does he?’ cried the inspector eagerly.
‘Yes,’ I said maliciously. ‘He says he went there because he was born in Kent.’ I felt a distinct pleasure in passing on my own discomfiture.
Raglan stared at me for a moment or two uncomprehendingly.
Then a grin overspread his weaselly countenance and he tapped his forehead significantly.
‘But gone here,’ he said. ‘I’ve thought so for some time.
Poor old chap, so that’s why he had to give up and come down here. In the family, very likely. He’s got a nephew who’s quite off his crumpet.’ ‘Poirot has?’ I said, very surprised.
‘Yes. Hasn’t he ever mentioned him to you? Quite docile, I believe, and all that, but mad as a hatter, poor lad.’ ‘Who told you that?’ Again a grin showed itself on Inspector Raglan’s face.
‘Your sister. Miss Sheppard, she told me all about it.’ Really, Caroline is amazing. She never rests until she knows the last details of everybody’s family secrets. Unfortunately, I have never been able to instil into her the decency of keeping them to herself.
‘Jump in. Inspector,’ I said, opening the door of the car.
‘We’ll go up to The Larches together, and acquaint our Belgian friend with the latest news.’ ‘Might as well, I suppose. After all, even if he is a bit balmy, it was a useful dp he gave me about those fingerprints. He’s got a bee in his bonnet about the man Kent, but who knows – there may be something useful behind it.’ Poirot received us with his usual smiling courtesy.