‘The Swedish lady said that it was bolted. ’
‘She made a mistake, I suppose,’ said Poirot.
‘Well, it was rather stupid of her, I think.’
Mrs Hubbard began to worry about the delay to the train. ‘I
can’t possibly get to my boat in time. This is just too terrible —’
M. Poirot interrupted her before the tears returned. ‘You have
had a shock, Madame. Perhaps we should get you a cup of tea.’
‘A coffee would be better. Thank you.’
As the coffee was brought to Mrs Hubbard, Poirot asked
for permission to search her luggage. She agreed willingly,
but nothing of interest was found. A search of Mr Hardman’s
compartment was no more successful, but in Colonel Arbuthnot’s
luggage he discovered a packet of pipe cleaners that were exactly
the same as the one found at the crime scene.
Poirot went next to the compartments of Count and Countess
Andrenyi. As he entered, the Count was sitting near the door,
reading a newspaper. His wife was curled up in a chair near the
window. It appeared that she had been asleep.
A quick search followed. ‘Here is a label all wet on your
suitcase, Madame,’ said Poirot as he lifted down a blue bag.
She did not reply, but stayed curled on her chair, showing no
interest in the visitors.
The next compartment was shared by Mary Debenham and
Greta Ohlsson. Poirot explained his purpose. ‘After we have
examined your luggage, Miss Ohlsson, perhaps you could visit
Mrs Hubbard. We have moved her into the next carriage, but
she is still very upset. It might help her to talk to someone.’
The kind Swede wanted to go and see Mrs Hubbard
immediately. She left her suitcase unlocked in the compartment
for Poirot’s search. This was quickly done and the detective
turned to Miss Debenham. She was staring at him.
‘Why did you send Miss Ohlsson away?’ she asked him.
‘To help the American woman,’ he replied.
‘A good excuse — but still an excuse.’ She smiled. ‘You wanted
49
to speak to me alone, didn’t you?’
‘I do not plan as carefully as you think, Miss Debenham.’
‘Please — I am not stupid. For some reason, you have decided
that I am responsible for this horrible crime.’
‘You are imagining things.’
‘No, I am not imagining things. Let’s not waste time. Say
what you want to say.’
‘As you wish, Mademoiselle. On the journey from Syria, we
stopped at Konya and I went for a walk on the platform. I heard
you say to Colonel Arbuthnot, “Not now. When it’s all over.
When it’s behind us.” What did you mean by those words?’
She said very quietly, ‘Do you think I meant — murder?’
‘I am asking you what you meant.’
She sat silently for a minute, lost in thought. Then she said,
‘Those words had a meaning that I cannot tell you, Monsieur. I
can only promise you that I never saw this man Ratchett in my
life until I saw him on this train.’
‘You refuse to explain those words?’
‘I must, I’m afraid. There was something that I had to do —’
‘And now you have done it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘There was a delay before we arrived in Istanbul. You were
very upset — you, who are always so calm. You lost that calm.’
‘I did not want to miss my connection.’
‘But the Orient Express leaves Istanbul every day of the
week. Missing the connection meant a delay of only twenty-
four hours. On this train, again we have had a delay — a more
serious delay. But this time your behaviour is very different.
You are not impatient at all. You are quite calm.’
Miss Debenham’s face was red. She was not smiling now.
‘You do not answer, Mademoiselle?’
‘I’m sorry. What do you want me to tell you?’ For the first
time she showed signs of losing her temper.
50
‘Tell me why your behaviour is so different.’
‘I cannot tell you. There is nothing to explain.’
‘It does not matter,’ said Hercule Poirot. ‘I will find out.’ He
turned and left the compartment.
In the next compartment, Hildegarde Schmidt was waiting
for them. After looking through her luggage, Poirot turned to
M. Bouc. ‘You remember what I said? Look here a moment.’
There was a brown conductor’s uniform untidily placed
inside the maid’s suitcase.
The maid suddenly looked frightened. ‘That is not mine!’ she
cried. ‘I have not looked in that case since we left Istanbul.’
Poirot touched her arm gently and said, ‘Do not worry. We
believe you. The man in this uniform had hoped not to be seen.
After he ran into you in the corridor, he needed to hide his
uniform. He saw that the door to your compartment was open,
so he quickly took it off and threw it on top of your suitcase.’
He held up the jacket. A button, the third down, was missing.
In the pocket was a conductor’s key.
‘With that, he could lock and unlock any door in the carriage,’
cried M. Bouc.
‘Now we must find the red dressing gown,’ said Poirot.
The next compartment was Mr MacQueen’s, and after that
Masterman’s and the Italian’s. Nothing of interest was found
in their luggage, and there were no more compartments
to search.
‘What shall we do now?’ asked M. Bouc.
‘We have collected all the evidence that we can. We will
go now to the restaurant carriage and think. But I will need
cigarettes. I will meet you there in a few moments.’
Poirot returned to his own compartment to get cigarettes
from his suitcase. As he opened the case, he sat down suddenly
and stared. Placed tidily among his things was a red dressing
gown with a Chinese picture on the back.
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