“Then that’s all right. Think it was the Honorable Rupert, or a crook? We’re keeping an eye on all the regular places, of course. We shall know if the shiners are disposed of, and of course whoever did it isn’t going to keep them to admire their sparkle. Not likely! I’m trying to find out where Rupert Carrington was yesterday. Seems a bit of a mystery about it. I’ve got a man watching him.” “A great precaution, but perhaps a day late,” suggested Poirot gently. “You always will have your joke, Monsieur Poirot. Well, I’m off to Paddington. Bristol, Weston, Taunton, that’s my beat. So long.” “You will come round and see me this evening, and tell me the result?” “Sure thing, if I’m back.” “That good Inspector believes in matter in motion,” murmured Poirot as our friend departed. “He travels; he measures footprints; he collects mud and cigarette-ash! He is extremely busy! He is zealous beyond words! And if I mentioned psychology to him, do you know what he would do, my friend? He would smile! He would say to himself: ‘Poor old Poirot! He ages! He grows senile!’ Japp is the ‘younger generation knocking on the door.’ And _ma foi!_ They are so busy knocking that they do not notice that the door is open!” “And what are you going to do?” “As we have _carte blanche_, I shall expend threepence in ringing up the Ritz—where you may have noticed our Count is staying. After that, as my feet are a little damp, and I have sneezed twice, I shall return to my rooms and make myself a _tisano_ over the spirit lamp!” * * * * * I did not see Poirot again until the following morning. I found him placidly finishing his breakfast. “Well?” I inquired eagerly. “What has happened?” “Nothing.” “But Japp?” “I have not seen him.” “The Count?” “He left the Ritz the day before yesterday.” “The day of the murder?” “Yes.” “Then that settles it! Rupert Carrington is cleared.” “Because the Count de la Rochefour has left the Ritz? You go too fast, my friend.” “Anyway, he must be followed, arrested! But what could be his motive?” “One hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry is a very good motive for anyone. No, the question to my mind is: why kill her? Why not simply steal the jewels? She would not prosecute.” “Why not?” “Because she is a woman, _mon ami_. She once loved this man. Therefore she would suffer her loss in silence. And the Count, who is an extremely good psychologist where women are concerned,—hence his successes,—would know that perfectly well! On the other hand, if Rupert Carrington killed her, why take the jewels, which would incriminate him fatally?” “As a blind.” “Perhaps you are right, my friend. Ah, here is Japp! I recognize his knock.” The Inspector was beaming good-humoredly. “Morning, Poirot. Only just got back. I’ve done some good work! And you?” “Me, I have arranged my ideas,” replied Poirot placidly. Japp laughed heartily.