‘They’re lovely things, of course,’ she said. ‘But I can’t imagine anyone paying all that money for them. Five hundred poundsl Just think of it! They’re by Cosway. Is it Cosway I mean? I get so mixed up in these things.’ Poirot smiled. ‘You are not yet experienced, eh, mademoiselle?’
‘I’ve had no training,’ said Mary ruefully. ‘We weren’t brought up to know about old things. It’s a lot to learn.’
She sighed. Then suddenly, I saw her eyes widen in surprise.
She was sitting facing the window, and her glance now was directed out of that window, into the courtyard. With a hurried word, she rose from her seat and almost ran out of the room. She returned in a few moments, breathless and apologetic.
‘I’m so sorry rushing off like that. But I thought I saw a man taking my suitcase out of the coach. I went flying after him, and it turned out to be his own. It’s one almost exactly like mine. I felt like such a fool. It looked as though I were accusing him of stealing it.’
She laughed at the idea.
Poirot, however, did not laugh. ‘What man was it, mademoiselle?
Describe him to me.’
‘He had on a brown suit. A thin weedy young man with a very indeterminate moustache.’
‘Aha,’ said Poirot. ‘Our friend of yesterday, Hastings. You know this young man, mademoiselle. You have seen him before?’ ‘No, never. Why?’
‘Nothing. It is rather curious – that is all.’
He relapsed into silence and took no further part in the con-versation until something Mary Durrant said caught his atten-tion.
‘Eh, mademoiselle, what is that you say?’
‘I said that on my return journey I should have to be careful of “malefactors”, as you call them. I believe Mr Wood always pays for things in cash. If I have five hundred pounds in notes on me, I shall be worth some malefactor’s attention.’
She laughed but again Poirot did not respond. Instead, he asked her what hotel she proposed to stay at in Charlock Bay.
‘The Anchor Hotel. It is small and not expensive, but quite good.’
‘So!’ said Poirot. ‘The Anchor Hotel. Precisely where Hastings here has made up his mind to stay. How oddl’
He twinkled at me.
‘You are staying long in Charlock Bay?’ asked Mary.
‘One night only. I have business there. You could not guess, I am sure, what my profession is, mademoiselle?’ I saw Mary consider several possibilities and reject them probably from a feeling of caution. At last, she hazarded the suggestion that Poirot was a conjurer. He was vastly entertained.
‘Ahl But it is an idea thatl You think I take the rabbits out of the hat? No, mademoiselle. Me, I am the opposite of a conjurer.
The conjurer, he makes things disappear. Me, I make things that have disappeared, reappear.’ He leaned forward dramatically so aa to give the words full effect. ‘It is a secret, mademoiselle, but I will tell you, I am a detectivel’ He leaned back in his chair pleased with the effect he had created. Mary Durrant stared at him spellbound. But any further conversation was barred for the braying of various horns outside announced that the road monsters were ready to proceed.
As Poirot and I went out together I commented on the charm of our luncheon companion. Poirot agreed.
‘Yes, she is charming. But, also rather silly?’ ‘Silly?’ ‘Do not be outraged. A girl may be beautiful and have auburn hair and yet be silly. It is the height of foolishness to take two strangers into her confidence as she has done.’ ‘Well, she could see we were all right.’ ‘That is imbecile, what you say, my friend. Anyone who knows his job – naturally he will appear “all right”. That little one she talked of being careful when she would have five hundred pounds in money with her. But she has five hundred pounds with her now.’ ‘In miniatures.’ ‘Exactly. In miniatures. And between one and the other, there is no great difference, mon ami.’ ‘But no one knows about them except us.’ ‘And the waiter and the people at the next table. And, doubtless, everal people in Ebermouthl Mademoiselle Durrant, she is charming, but, if I were Miss Elizabeth Penn, I would first of all instruct my new assistant in the common sense.’ He paused and then said in a different voice: ‘You know, my friend, it would be the easiest thing in the world to remove a suitcase from one of those char-h-bancs while we were all at luncheon.’