"In clearing Alfred Inglethorp," continued Poirot, "I have been
obliged to show my hand sooner than I intended. As long as I
might be thought to be pursuing him, the criminal would be off
his guard. Now, he will be doubly careful. Yes--doubly
careful." He turned to me abruptly. "Tell me, Hastings, you
yourself--have you no suspicions of anybody?"
I hesitated. To tell the truth, an idea, wild and extravagant in
itself, had once or twice that morning flashed through my brain.
I had rejected it as absurd, nevertheless it persisted.
"You couldn't call it a suspicion," I murmured. "It's so utterly
foolish."
"Come now," urged Poirot encouragingly. "Do not fear. Speak
your mind. You should always pay attention to your instincts."
"Well then," I blurted out, "it's absurd--but I suspect Miss
Howard of not telling all she knows!"
"Miss Howard?"
"Yes--you'll laugh at me----"
"Not at all. Why should I?"
"I can't help feeling," I continued blunderingly; "that we've
rather left her out of the possible suspects, simply on the
strength of her having been away from the place.
Pages:
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183