"Precisely. The conductor without descends. It would be easy for our man to leave the train unseen; it would be easy to catch a train back to Paris or anywhere he pleases. And the crime would be put down as an ordinary train robbery. But for the letter found in Madame's bag, the Comte would not have been mentioned." "It was an oversight on his part not to search that bag," declared the Commissary. "Without doubt he thought she had destroyed that letter. It was--pardon me, Monsieur--it was an indiscretion of the first water to keep it." "And yet," murmured Poirot, "it was an indiscretion the Comte might have foreseen." "You mean?" "I mean we are all agreed on one point, and that is that the Comte de la Roche knows one subject _à fond_: Women. How was it that, knowing women as he does, he did not foresee that Madame would have kept that letter?" "Yes--yes," said the Examining Magistrate doubtfully, "there is something in what you say. But at such times, you understand, a man is not master of himself. He does not reason calmly. _Mon Dieu!_" he added, with feeling, "if our criminals kept their heads and acted with intelligence, how should we capture them?" Poirot smiled to himself. "It seems to me a clear case," said the other, "but a difficult one to prove. The Comte is a slippery customer, and unless the maid can identify him--" "Which is most unlikely," said Poirot. "True, true." The Examining Magistrate rubbed his chin. "It is going to be difficult." "If he did indeed commit the crime--" began Poirot. M. Caux interrupted. "If--you say _if_?" "Yes, Monsieur le Juge, I say _if_." The other looked at him sharply. "You are right," he said at last, "we go too fast. It is possible that the Comte may have an alibi. Then we should look foolish." "_Ah, ça par exemple_," replied Poirot, "that is of no importance whatever. Naturally, if he committed the crime he will have an alibi. A man with the Comte's experience does not neglect to take precautions. No, I said _if_ for a very different reason." "And what was that?" Poirot wagged an emphatic forefinger. "The psychology." "Eh?" said the Commissary. "The psychology is at fault. The Comte is a scoundrel--yes. The Comte is a swindler--yes. The Comte preys upon women--yes. He proposes to steal Madame's jewels--again yes. Is he the kind of man to commit murder? I say _no_! A man of the type of the Comte is always a coward; he takes no risks. He plays the safe, the mean, what the English call the low-down game; but murder, a hundred times no!" He shook his head in a dissatisfied manner. The Examining Magistrate, however, did not seem disposed to agree with him. "The day always comes when such gentry lose their heads and go too far," he observed sagely. "Doubtless that is the case here. Without wishing to disagree with you, M. Poirot--" "It was only an opinion," Poirot hastened to explain. "The case is, of course, in your hands, and you will do what seems fit to you."