not of himself important. But the firm he represented interested me very much.”

 

“The Dictaphone Company,” gasped Raymond. “I see it now. A dictaphone.

 

That’s what you think?”

 

Poirot nodded.

 

“Mr. Ackroyd had promised to invest in a dictaphone, you remember.

 

Me, I had the curiosity to inquire of the company in question. Their reply is

that Mr. Ackroyd _did_ purchase a dictaphone from their representative. Why he

concealed the matter from you, I do not know.”

 

“He must have meant to surprise me with it,” murmured Raymond. “He had quite a

childish love of surprising people. Meant to keep it up his sleeve for a day or

so. Probably was playing with it like a new toy.

 

Yes, it fits in. You’re quite right—no one would use quite those words in casual

conversation.”

 

“It explains, too,” said Poirot, “why Major Blunt thought it was you who were in

the study. Such scraps as came to him were fragments of dictation, and so his

subconscious mind deduced that you were with him.