II

Poirot called at Scotland Yard and asked for Japp. When he was taken up to the Chief Inspector’sroom: “I want to see Carter,” said Hercule Poirot.

Japp shot him a quick, sideways glance.

He said:

“What’s the big idea?”

“You are unwilling¹?”

Japp shrugged² his shoulders. He said:

“Oh, I shan’t make objections. No good if I did. Who’s the Home Secretary’s little pet? Youare. Who’s got half the Cabinet in his pocket? You have. Hushing up their scandals for them.”

Poirot’s mind flew for a moment to that case that he had named the Case of the Augean Stables.

He murmured, not without complacence:

“It was ingenious, yes? You must admit it. Well imagined, let us say.”

“Nobody but you would ever have thought of such a thing! Sometimes, Poirot, I think youhaven’t any scruples³ at all!”

Poirot’s face became suddenly grave. He said:

“That is not true.”

“Oh, all right, Poirot, I didn’t mean it. But you’re so pleased sometimes with your damnedingenuity. What do you want to see Carter for? To ask him whether he really murdered Morley?”

To Japp’s surprise, Poirot nodded his head emphatically.

“Yes, my friend, that is exactly the reason.”

“And I suppose you think he’ll tell you if he did?”

Japp laughed as he spoke⁴. But Hercule Poirot remained grave. He said:

“He might tell me-yes.”

Japp looked at him curiously⁵. He said:

“You know, I’ve known you a long time-twenty years? Something like that. But I still don’talways catch on to what you’re driving at. I know you’ve got a bee in your bonnet⁶ about youngFrank Carter. For some reason or other, you don’t want him to be guilty-”

Hercule Poirot shook his head energetically.

“No, no, there you are wrong. It is the other way about-”

“I thought perhaps it was on account of that girl of his-the blonde piece. You’re a sentimentalold buzzard in some ways-”

Poirot was immediately indignant.

“It is not I who am sentimental⁷! That is an English failing! It is in England that they weep overyoung sweethearts and dying mothers and devoted⁸ children. Me, I am logical. If Frank Carter is akiller, then I am certainly not sentimental enough to wish to unite him in marriage to a nice butcommonplace girl who, if he is hanged, will forget him in a year or two and find someone else!”

“Then why don’t you want to believe he is guilty?”

“I do want to believe he is guilty.”

“I suppose you mean that you’ve got hold of something which more or less conclusively⁹ proveshim to be innocent? Why hold it up, then? You ought to play fair with us, Poirot.”

“I am playing fair with you. Presently, very shortly, I will give you the name and address of awitness who will be invaluable¹⁰ to you for the prosecution¹¹. Her evidence ought to clinch¹² the caseagainst him.”

“But then-Oh! You’ve got me all tangled¹³ up. Why are you so anxious to see him.”

“To satisfy myself,” said Hercule Poirot.

And he would say no more.

 

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