Lord Edgware Dies - Agatha Christie [73]
He had been very quiet ever since our ghastly discovery. All through the arrival of the police, the questioning of the other people in the house, the hundred and one details of the dreadful routine following upon a murder, Poirot had remained aloof – strangely quiet – a far-away speculative look in his eyes. Now, as he broke off his sentence, that same far-away speculative look returned.
‘We have no time to waste in regrets, Hastings,’ he said quietly. ‘No time to say “If ” – The poor young man who is dead had something to tell us. And we know now that that something must have been of great importance – otherwise he would not have been killed. Since he can no longer tell us – we have got to guess. We have got to guess – with only one little clue to guide us.’
‘Paris,’ I said.
‘Yes, Paris.’ He got up and began to stroll up and down.
‘There have been several mentions of Paris in this business, but unluckily in different connections. There is the word Paris engraved in the gold box. Paris in November last. Miss Adams was there then – perhaps Ross was there also. Was there someone else there whom Ross knew? Whom he saw with Miss Adams under somewhat peculiar circumstances?’
‘We can never know,’ I said.
‘Yes, yes, we can know. We shall know! The power of the human brain, Hastings, is almost unlimited. What other mentions of Paris have we in connection with the case? There is the short woman with the pince-nez who called for the box at the jeweller’s there. Was she known to Ross? The Duke of Merton was in Paris when the crime was committed. Paris, Paris, Paris. Lord Edgware was going to Paris – Ah! possibly we have something there. Was he killed to prevent him going to Paris?’
He sat down again, his brows drawn together. I could almost feel the waves of his furious concentration of thought.
‘What happened at that luncheon?’ he murmured. ‘Some casual word or phrase must have shown to Donald Ross the significance of knowledge which was in his possession, but which up to then he had not known was significant. Was there some mention of France? Of Paris? Up your end of the table, I mean.’
‘The word Paris was mentioned but not in that connection.’
I told him about Jane Wilkinson’s ‘gaffe’.
‘That probably explains it,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘The word Paris would be sufficient – taken in conjunction with something else. But what was that something else? At what was Ross looking? Or of what had he been speaking when that word was uttered?’
‘He’d been talking about Scottish superstitions.’
‘And his eyes were – where?’
‘I’m not sure. I think he was looking up towards the head of the table where Mrs Widburn was sitting.’
‘Who sat next to her?’
‘The Duke of Merton, then Jane Wilkinson, then some fellow I didn’t know.’
‘M. le Duc. It is possible that he was looking at M. le Duc when the word Paris was spoken. The Duke, remember, was in Paris or was supposed to be in Paris at the time of the crime. Suppose Ross suddenly remembered something which went to show that Merton was not in Paris.’
‘My dear Poirot!’
‘Yes, you consider that an absurdity. So does everyone. Had M. le Duc a motive for the crime? Yes, a very strong one. But to suppose that he committed it – oh! absurd. He is so rich, of so assured a position, of such a well-known lofty character. No one will scrutinize his alibi too carefully. And yet to fake an alibi in a big hotel is not so difficult. To go across by the afternoon service – to return – it could be done. Tell me, Hastings, did Ross not say anything when the word Paris was mentioned? Did he show no emotion?’
‘I do seem to remember that he drew in his breath rather sharply.’
‘And his manner when he spoke to you afterwards. Was it bewildered? Confused?’
‘That absolutely describes it.’
‘Précisément. An idea has come to him. He thinks it preposterous! Absurd! And yet – he hesitates to voice it. First he will speak to me. But alas! when he has made up his mind, I am already departed.’
‘If he had only said a little more to me,’ I lamented.
‘Yes. If only – Who