Poirot. "And supposing I do not agree?"
The man made an eloquent gesture. "We should regret it, of course, exceedingly," he said. "So would all the friends and admirers of the great M. Hercule Poirot. But regrets, however poignant, do not bring a man to life again."
"Put very delicately," said Poirot, nodding his head. "And supposing I--accept?"
"In that case I am empowered to offer you--compensation."
He drew out a pocket-book, and threw ten notes on the table. They were for ten thousand francs each. "That is merely as a guarantee of our good faith," he said. "Ten times that amount will be paid you."
"Good God," I cried, springing up, "you dare to think--!"
"Sit down, Hastings," said Poirot autocratically. "Subdue your so beautiful and honest nature and sit down. To you, monsieur, I will say this. What is to prevent me ringing up the police and giving you into their custody, whilst my friend here prevents you from escaping?"
"By all means do so if you think it advisable," said our visitor calmly.
"Oh! look here, Poirot," I cried. "I can't stand this. Ring up the police and have done with it."
Rising swiftly, I strode to the door and stood with my back against it. "It seems the obvious course," murmured Poirot, as though debating with himself.
"But you distrust the obvious, eh?" said our visitor, smiling.
"Go on, Poirot," I urged.
"It will be your responsibility, mon ami."
As he lifted the receiver, the man made a sudden, cat-like jump at me. I was ready for him. In another minute we were locked together, staggering round the room. Suddenly I felt him slip and falter. I pressed my advantage. He went down before me. And then, in the very flush of victory, an extraordinary thing happened. I felt myself flying forwards. Head first, I crashed into the wall in a complicated heap. I was up in a minute, but the door was already closing behind my late adversary. I rushed to it and shook it, it was locked on the outside. I seized the telephone from Poirot.
"Is that the bureau? Stop a man who is coming out. A tall man, with a buttoned-up overcoat and a soft hat. He is wanted by the police."
Very few minutes elapsed before we heard a noise in the corridor outside. The key was turned and the door flung open. The manager himself stood in the doorway.
"The man--you have got him?" I cried.
"No, monsieur. No one has descended."
"You must have passed him."
"We have passed no one, monsieur. It is incredible that he can have escaped."
"You have passed some one, I think," said Poirot, in his gentle voice. "One of the hotel staff, perhaps?"
"Only a waiter carrying a tray, monsieur."
"Ah!" said Poirot, in a tone that spoke infinities.
"So that was why he wore his overcoat buttoned up to his chin," mused Poirot, when we had finally got rid of the excited hotel officials.

 Prev. P 37/149 next