Well, I suppose that’s natural enough. But I was away all those years. I should have come back, come back more often and found out how the child was getting on. I suppose I had a bad conscience. Oh, it’s no good making excuses now.” He turned his head sharply.
“Yes. I did think when I saw her again that Norma’s whole attitude was neurotic, indisciplined. I hoped she and Mary would — would get on better after a little while but I have to admit that I don’t feel the girl was entirely normal. I felt it would be better for her to have a job in London and come home for weekends, but not to be forced into Mary’s company the whole time. Oh, I suppose I’ve made a mess of everything. But where is she, M. Poirot?
Where is she? Do you think she may have lost her memory? One hears of such things.” “Yes,” said Poirot, “that is a possibility.
In her state she may be wandering about quite unaware of who she is. Or she may have had an accident. That is less likely.
I can assure you that I have made all enquiries in hospitals and other places.” “You don’t think she is — you don’t think she’s dead?” “She would be easier to find dead than alive, I can assure you. Please calm yourself, Mr. Restarick. Remember she may have friends of whom you know nothing. Friends in any part of England, friends whom she has known while living with her mother, or with her aunt, or friends who were friends of school friends of hers. All these things take time to sort out. It may be — you must prepare yourself — that she is with a boy-friend of some kind.” “David Baker? If I thought that — ” “She is not with David Baker. That,” said Poirot dryly, “I ascertained first of all.” “How do I know what friends she has?” He sighed. “If I find her, when I find her — I’d rather put it that way — I’m going to take her out of all this.” “Out of all what?” “Out of this country. I have been miserable, M. Poirot, miserable ever since I returned here. I always hated City life.
The boring round of office routine, continual consultations with lawyers and financiers. The life I liked was always the same. Travelling, moving about from place to place, going to wild and inaccessible places. That’s the life for me. I should never have left it. I should have sent for Norma to come out to me and, as I say, when I find her that’s what I’m going to do. Already I’m being approached with various take-over bids. Well, they can have the whole caboodle on very advantageous terms. I’ll take the cash and go back to a country that means something, that’s real.” “Aha! And what will your wife say to that?” “Mary? She’s used to that life. That’s where she comes from.” “To les femmes with plenty of money,” said Poirot, “London can be very attractive.” “She’ll see it my way.” The telephone rang on his desk. He picked it up.
“Yes? Oh. From Manchester? Yes.
If it’s Claudia Reece-Holland, put her through.” He waited a minute.
“Hallo, Claudia. Yes. Speak up — it’s a very bad line, I can’t hear you. They agreed?… Ah, pity… No, I think you did very well… Right… All right then.
Take the evening train back. We’ll discuss it further tomorrow morning.” He replaced the telephone on its rest.
“That’s a competent girl,” he said.
“Miss Reece-Holland?” “Yes. Unusually competent. Takes a lot of bother off my shoulders. I gave her pretty well carte blanche to put through this deal in Manchester on her own terms. I really felt I couldn’t concentrate. And she’s done exceedingly well. She’s as good as a man in some ways.” He looked at Poirot, suddenly bringing himself back to the present.
“Ah, yes, M. Poirot. Well, I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my grip. Do you need more money for expenses?” “No, Monsieur. I assure you that I will do my utmost to restore your daughter sound and well. I have taken all possible precautions for her safety.” He went out through the outer office.