The criminals who lead an agreeable life which no breath of suspicion has ever touched.
Admit that is an amusing hobby."
"It was another word I was thinking of - not amusing."
"An idea!" cried Shaitana, paying no attention to Poirot. "A little dinner!
A dinner to meet my exhibits!
Really that is a most amusing thought.
I cannot think why it has never occurred to me before.
Yes - yes, I see it all - I see it exactly.
You must give me a little time - not next week - let us say the week after next.
You are free?
What day shall we say?"
"Any day of the week after next would suit me," said Poirot with a bow.
"Good; then let us say Friday.
Friday the eighteenth, that will be.
I will write it down at once in my little book.
Really, the idea pleases me enormously."
"I am not quite sure if it pleases me," said Poirot slowly. "I do not mean that I am insensible to the kindness of your invitation - no - not that -"
Shaitana interrupted him. "But it shocks your bourgeois sensibilities?
My dear fellow, you must free yourself from the limitations of the policeman mentality."
Poirot said slowly, "It is true that I have a thoroughly bourgeois attitude to murder."
"But, my dear, why?
A stupid bungled butchering business - yes, I agree with you.
But murder can be an art!
A murderer can be an artist."
"Oh, I admit it."
"Well then?" Mr. Shaitana asked.
"But he is still a murderer'"
"Surely, my dear Monsieur Poirot, to do a thing supremely well is a justification!
You want, very unimaginatively, to take every murderer, handcuff him, shut him up, and eventually break his neck for him in the early hours of the morning.
In my opinion a really successful murderer should be granted a pension out of the public funds and asked out to dinner!"
Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
"I am not as insensitive to art in crime as you think.
I can admire the perfect murderer; I can also admire a tiger - that splended tawny striped beast.
But I will admire him from outside his cage.
I will not go inside.
That is to say, not unless it is my duty to do so.
For you see, Mr. Shaitana, the tiger might spring."
Mr. Shaitana laughed.
"I see.
And the murderer?"
"Might murder," said Poirot gravely.
"My dear fellow - what an alarmist you are!
Then you will not come to meet my collection of - tigers?"
"On the contrary, I shall be enchanted."
"How brave!"
"You do not quite understand me, Mr. Shaitana.
My words were in the nature of a warning.
You asked me just now to admit that your idea of a collection of murderers was amusing.
I said I could think of another word other than amusing. That word was dangerous. I fancy, Mr. Shaitana, that your hobby might be a dangerous one!"
Mr. Shaitana laughed, a very Mephistophelean laugh.