Rather doubtfully Egg departed.
Left to himself, Poirot strode up and down the room muttering under his breath.
His eyes hone green as any cat’s.
“Mais oui - that explains everything.
A curious motive - a very curious motive - such a motive as I have never come across before, and yet it is reasonable, and, given the circumstances, natural.
Altogether a very curious case.”
He passed the table where his card house still reposed. With a sweep of his hands he swept the cards from the table.
“The happy family, I need it no longer,” he said.
“The problem is solved.
It only remains to act.”
He caught up his had and put on his overcoat. Then he went downstairs and the commissionaire called him a taxi.
Poirot gave the address of Sir Charles’s flat.
Arrived there, he paid off the taxi, and stepped into the hall.
The porter was absent taking up the lift. Poirot walked up the stairs.
Just as he arrived on the second floor the door of Sir Charles’s flat opened and Miss Milray came out.
She started when she saw Poirot. “You!”
Poirot smiled.
“Me!
Or is it I?
Enfin, moi!”
Miss Milray said: “I’m afraid you won’t find Sir Charles. He’s gone to the Babylon Theatre with Miss Lytton Gore.”
“It is not Sir Charles I seek.
It is my stick that I think I have left behind one day.”
“Oh, I see. Well, if you’ll ring, Temple will find it for you.
I’m sorry I can’t stop. I’m on my way to catch a train.
I’m going down to Kent - to my mother.”
“I comprehend.
Do not let me delay you, mademoiselle.”
He stood aside and Miss Milray passed rapidly down the stairs. She was carrying a small attache case.
But when she had gone Poirot seemed to forget the purpose for which he had come.
Instead of going on up to the landing, he turned and made his way downstairs again. He arrived at the front door just in time to see Miss Milray getting into a taxi.
Another taxi was coming slowly along the kerb.
Poirot raised a hand and it came to rest. He got in and directed the driver to follow the other taxi.
No surprise showed on his face when the first taxi went north and finally drew up at Paddington Station, though Paddington is an odd station from which to proceed to Kent.
Poirot went to the first-class booking window and demanded a return ticket to Loomouth.
The train was due to depart in five minutes.
Pulling up his overcoat well about his ears, for the day was cold, Poirot ensconced himself in the corner of a first-class carriage.
They arrived at Loomouth about five o’clock.
It was already growing dark.
Standing back a little, Poirot heard Miss Milray being greeted by the friendly porter at the little station.
“Well, now, miss, we didn’t expect you.
Is Sir Charles coming down?”
Miss Milray replied: “I’ve come down here unexpectedly. I shall be going back tomorrow morning.
I’ve just come to fetch some things.
No, I don’t want a cab, thank you.
I’ll walk up by the cliff path.”
The dusk had deepened.
Miss Milray walked briskly up the steep zigzag path.
A good way behind came Hercule Poirot. He trod softly like a cat.
Miss Milray, on arrival at Crow's Nest, produced a key from her bag and passed through the side door, leaving it ajar.