She is safe and well.
She has never been in their hands for one instant."
"But I got a cable from Bronsen?"
"No, no, you did not.
You may have got a cable from South America signed Bronsen - that is a very different matter.
Tell me, has it never occurred to you that an organisation of this kind, with ramifications all over the world, might easily strike at us through that little girl, Cinderella, whom you love so well?"
"No, never," I replied.
"Well, it did to me.
I said nothing to you because I did not want to upset you unnecessarily - but I took measures of my own.
Your wife's letters all seem to have been written from the ranch, but in reality she has been in a place of safety devised by me for over three months."
I looked at him for a long time.
"You are sure of that?"
"Parbleu!
I know it.
They tortured you with a lie!"
I turned my head aside.
Poirot put his hand on my shoulder.
There was something in his voice that I had never heard there before.
"You like not that I should embrace you or display the emotion, I know well.
I will be very British.
I will say nothing - but nothing at all.
Only this - that in this last adventure of ours, the honours are all with you, and happy is the man who has such a friend as I have!"
Chapter 14 THE PEROXIDE BLONDE
I was very disappointed with the results of Poirot's bomb attack on the premises in Chinatown.
To begin with, the leader of the gang had escaped.
When Japp's men rushed up in response to Poirot's whistle they found four Chinamen unconscious in the hall, but the man who had threatened me with death was not among them.
I remembered afterwards that when I was forced out on to the doorstep, to decoy Poirot into the house, this man had kept well in the background.
Presumably he was out of the danger zone of the gas bomb, and made good his escape by one of the many exits which we afterwards discovered.
From the four who remained in our hands we learnt nothing.
The fullest investigation by the police failed to bring to light anything to connect them with the Big Four.
They were ordinary low-class residents of the district, and they professed bland ignorance of the name Li Chang Yen.
A Chinese gentleman had hired them for service in the house by the waterside, and they knew nothing whatever of his private affairs.
By the next day I had, except for a slight headache, completely recovered from the effects of Poirot's gas bomb.
We went down together to Chinatown and searched the house from which I had been rescued.
The premises consisted of two ramshackle houses joined together by an underground passage.
The ground floors and the upper stories of each were unfurnished and deserted, the broken windows covered by decaying shutters.
Japp had already been prying about in the cellars, and had discovered the secret of the entrance to the subterranean chamber where I had spent such an unpleasant half-hour.
Closer investigation confirmed the impression that it had made on me the night before.
The silks on the walls and divan and the carpets on the floors were of exquisite workmanship.
Although I know very little about Chinese art, I could appreciate that every article in the room was perfect of its kind.
With the aid of Japp and some of his men we conducted a most thorough search of the apartment.
I had cherished high hopes that we would find documents of importance.
A list, perhaps, of some of the more important agents of the Big Four, or cipher notes of some of their plans, but we discovered nothing of the kind.
The only papers we found in the whole place were the notes which the Chinaman had consulted whilst he was dictating the letter to Poirot.
These consisted of a very complete record of each of our careers, and estimate of our characters, and suggestions about the weaknesses through which we might best be attacked.
Poirot was most childishly delighted with this discovery.
Personally I could not see that it was of any value whatever, especially as whoever compiled the notes was ludicrously mistaken in some of his opinions.
I pointed this out to my friend when we were back in our rooms.
"My dear Poirot," I said, "you know now what the enemy thinks of us.
He appears to have a grossly exaggerated idea of your brain power, and to have absurdly underrated mine, but I do not see how we are better off for knowing this."