grave. Still, it may admit of a perfectly simple explanation.”

 

“That’s just what I keep saying,” cried Flora eagerly.

 

Poirot touched no more upon that theme. Instead he suggested an immediate visit

to the local police. He thought it better for Flora to return home, and for me

to be the one to accompany him there and introduce him to the officer in charge

of the case.

 

We carried out this plan forthwith. We found Inspector Davis outside the police

station looking very glum indeed. With him was Colonel Melrose, the Chief

Constable, and another man whom, from Flora’s description of “weaselly,” I had

no difficulty in recognizing as Inspector Raglan from Cranchester.

 

I know Melrose fairly well, and I introduced Poirot to him and explained the

situation. The chief constable was clearly vexed, and Inspector Raglan looked as

black as thunder. Davis, however, seemed slightly exhilarated by the sight of

his superior officer’s annoyance.

 

“The case is going to be plain as a pikestaff,” said Raglan. “Not the least need

for amateurs to come butting in. You’d think any fool would have seen the way

things were last night, and then we shouldn’t have lost twelve hours.”

 

He directed a vengeful glance at poor Davis, who received it with perfect

stolidity.