Poirot remained for a time as in a dream. Then he rose, cleared away any traces of disorder, emptied the ash trays and straightened the chairs.
He went to a side table and picked up a copy of the Sketch. He turned the pages until he came to the one he sought.
"Two Sun Worshippers," it was headed. "The Countess of Horbury and Mr Raymond Barraclough at Le Pinet."
He looked at the two laughing figures in bathing suits, their arms entwined.
"I wonder," said Hercule Poirot. "One might do something along those lines. Yes, one might."
Chapter 9
The weather on the following day was of so perfect a nature that even Hercule Poirot had to admit that his estomac was perfectly peaceful.
On this occasion they were traveling by the 8:45 air service to Paris.
There were seven or eight travelers besides Poirot and Fournier in the compartment and the Frenchman utilized the journey to make some experiments.
He took from his pocket a small piece of bamboo, and three times during the journey he raised this to his lips, pointing it in a certain direction.
Once he did it bending himself round the corner of his seat. Once with his head slightly turned sideways. Once when he was returning from the wash room.
And on each occasion he caught the eye of some passenger or other eying him with mild astonishment.
On the last occasion, indeed, every eye in the car seemed to be fixed upon him.
Fournier sank in his seat discouraged, and was but little cheered by observing Poirot's open amusement.
"You are amused, my friend?
But you agree, one must try the experiments?"
"Evidemment!
In truth, I admire your thoroughness.
There is nothing like ocular demonstration. You play the part of the murderer with blowpipe.
The result is perfectly clear.
Everybody sees you!"
"Not everybody."
"In a sense, no.
On each occasion there is somebody who does not see you.
But for a successful murder that is not enough.
You must be reasonably sure that nobody will see you."
"And that is impossible, given ordinary conditions," said Fournier. "I hold then to my theory that there must have been extraordinary conditions. The psychological moment!
There must have been a psychological moment when everyone's attention was mathematically centered elsewhere."
"Our friend Inspector Japp is going to make minute inquiries on that point."
"Do you not agree with me, M. Poirot?"
Poirot hesitated a minute, then he said slowly:
"I agree that there was - that there must have been a psychological reason why nobody saw the murderer. But ideas are running in a slightly different channel from yours.
I feel that in this case mere ocular facts may be deceptive.
Close your eyes, my friend, instead of opening them wide.
Use the eyes of the brain, not of the body.
Let the little grey cells of the mind function. Let it be their task to show you what actually happened."
Fournier stared at him curiously.
"I do not follow you, M. Poirot."
"Because you are deducing from things that you have seen.
Nothing can be so misleading as observation."
Fournier shook his head again and spread out his hands.
"I give it up.
I cannot catch your meanings."
"Our friend Giraud would urge you to pay no attention to my vagaries.
'Be up and doing,' he would say. 'To sit still in an armchair and think - that is the method of an old man past his prime.'
But I say that a young hound is often so eager upon the scent that he overruns it. For him is the trail of the red herring.
There, it is a very good hint I have given you there."
And leaning back, Poirot closed his eyes, it may have been to think, but it is quite certain that five minutes later he was fast asleep.
On arrival in Paris they went straight to No. 3, Rue Joliette.
The Rue Joliette is on the south side of the Seine. There was nothing to distinguish No. 3 from the other houses.