I will tell you what I know – or rather what I guessed.
That first day that we came here, Inspector Japp and I, you were startled to see us – alarmed.
You thought something had happened to your uncle.
Why?"
"Well, he's the kind of man things might happen to.
He had a bomb by post one day – after the Herjosiovakian Loan.
And he gets lots of threatening letters."
Poirot went on: "Chief Inspector Japp told you that a certain dentist, Mr. Morley, had been shot.
You may recollect your answer.
You said, 'But that's absurd.'"
Jane bit her lip.
She said: "Did I?
That was rather absurd of me, wasn't it?"
"It was a curious remark, Mademoiselle.
It revealed that you knew of the existence of Mr. Morley, that you had rather expected something to happen – not to happen to him – but possibly to happen in his house."
"You do like telling yourself stories, don't you?"
Poirot paid no attention.
"You had expected – or rather you had feared – that something might happen at Mr. Morley's house. You had feared that that something would have happened to your uncle.
But if so, you must know something that we did not know.
I reflected on the people who had been in Mr. Morley's house that day, and I seized at once on the one person who might possibly have a connection with you – which was that young American, Mr. Howard Raikes."
"It's just like a serial, isn't it?
What's the next thrilling installment?
"I went to see Mr. Howard Raikes.
He is a dangerous and attractive young man -" Poirot paused expressively.
Jane said meditatively: "He is, isn't he?" She smiled.
"All right! You win! I was scared stiff."
She leaned forward.
"I'm going to tell you things, M. Poirot.
You're not the kind one can just string along.
I'd rather tell you than have you snooping around finding out.
I love that man, Howard Raikes.
I'm just crazy about him.
My mother brought me over here just to get me away from him.
Partly that and partly because she hopes Uncle Alistair might get fond enough of me to leave me his money when he dies."
She went on:
"Mother is his niece by marriage.
Her mother was Rebecca Arnholt's sister.
He's my great-uncle in-law.
Only he hasn't got any near relatives of his own, so mother doesn't see why we shouldn't be his residuary legatees.
She cadges off him pretty freely, too.
"You see, I'm being frank with you, M. Poirot.
That's the kind of people we are.
Actually we've got plenty of money ourselves – an indecent amount according to Howard's ideas – but we're not in Uncle Alistair's class." She paused.
She struck with one hand fiercely on the arm of her chair.
"How can I make you understand?
Everything I've been brought up to believe in, Howard abominates and wants to do away with.
And sometimes, you know, I feel like he does.
I'm fond of Uncle Alistair, but he gets on my nerves sometimes.
He's so stodgy – so British – so cautious and conservative.
I feel sometimes that he and his kind ought to be swept away, that they are blocking progress – that without them we'd get things done!"