Chapter 27 Chapter 27 A Conversation with Miret

After Knight left Caterina, he went to Hercule Poirot.Knighton found him in the lobby of the casino.Poirot was concentrating on placing the smallest bets on the numbers.When Knighton came up to him, the number turned to thirty-three, and Poirot lost his bet. "What luck!" said Knighton. "Are you still going to play?" Poirot shook his head. "Permit me to give you a few minutes, M. Poirot. I want to ask you something." "I'm always at your service. Let's go for a walk, shall we?" They went out into the yard.After a while, Knighton sighed deeply, and said slowly: "I like Riviera very much. The first time I came here was twelve years ago, during the war years, They put me in the hospital run by Ms. Templin. Going here from the Flemish trenches is like going from hell to heaven."

"It's conceivable," Poirot said in agreement. For several minutes they walked in silence. "Didn't you want to ask me something?" said Poirot at last. "Yes. Have you heard of Miret? A dancer?" "Mr. Derek Kettering's girlfriend, isn't it?" "Yes, I was talking about her. This woman wrote a letter to Herr von Alding, asking to visit him. Mr. von Alding entrusted me to write her back, saying that he did not want to see the lady. She came to the hotel this morning in person, still wanting to see Herr von Alding, to talk to him, saying that she has something important to discuss."

"Interesting." "Mr. von Alding was very angry. He told me not to be polite to her and walked away. I did not do what he said. I think that this woman may have something important to tell. I firmly believe that Mr. von Alding It was inappropriate, and I did not do what he told me to do and spoke to this lady." "You are absolutely right." "I told her at the time that Mr. von Alding was busy and couldn't see her; if there was anything I wanted to talk to him about, please believe me, I could pass it on to him. But my words didn't move her. She Left the hotel without making a sound. However, I got the impression that this lady must know something."

"This is important," said Pollatin, however firmly. "Do you know where she lives?" "I know." Knighton said the name of the hotel where she was staying. "Very well," said Poirot, "we will go to her at once." "And Herr von Alding?" asked the secretary hesitantly. "Mr. von Alding is an idiot. I don't trust people like that at all. My attitude towards them is as if they don't exist in this world at all." Knighton seemed not to agree entirely with him, but Poirot said no more of the matter. They gave the dancers their names, and then word came that Miss Milley was asking the gentlemen to come in.

On entering the dancing girl's drawing-room, Poirot spoke. "Miss," said Poirot with a deep bow, "we are here at the request of Mr. von Alding." "Really? Why doesn't he come by himself?" "He's a little unwell, you know, and he's not quite used to the climate here. But either I, or Major Knighton, his secretary, have the right to act for him. Or you wait a fortnight, Let's talk about it when he recovers." Poirot deeply understood that the word "waiting" is the most feared word for a woman with Miley's temperament.

"Okay, I say," she called. "I can't bear it any longer. I've been insulted, yes, insulted! Let him know how dared to throw Miley away like a worn-out shoe. No man has ever tired of me What! It's because I'm tired of men!" She walked up and down the room like a beast in a cage.Her slender body trembled.She kicked the small table in front of her against the wall with a sharp kick. "Show the boy how good I am," she cried. "All right!" She plucked a lily from the glass vase, tore it to pieces, and threw it into the fireplace. Knighton, watching all this with his British self-importance, found it unbearable.Poirot, on the other hand, enjoyed the performance with relish.

"Oh, that's great," he exclaimed. "You see, ladies have a lot of character." "I'm an artist. Any artist has a personality. I keep telling Derek to be careful. But he doesn't listen to me. Is it true? He's going to marry that Englishwoman?" Poirot coughed. "Everybody says Derek is madly in love with him," he whispered. Miley was now standing close to Poirot's side. "He killed his wife!" she cried hoarsely. "Well, it's all clear now. Before that, he told me he was going to kill his wife. This time he's at a dead end, and that's what's going to happen to him!"

"The police want evidence of this material," said Poirot. "I saw him that night as he was leaving his wife's box." "What time?" asked Poirot sharply. "Just when the train is approaching Lyon." "Can you swear on what you say, miss?" "certainly!" The room was silent.Mi Lei gasped for breath, she looked here provocatively for a while, and then looked there timidly for a while. "This is serious business," said the detective. "Are you aware of it?" "certainly!" "Well," said Poirot, "then we need not waste any time. Please accompany us to Monsieur Inspector."

Miley jumped up.Poirot noticed a little hesitation in her, and she seemed a little stuck. "Her, I'll get my coat." "Strike while the iron is hot," said Poirot to himself as she went out. "This kind of woman is unpredictable. She may change her mind after a while." Millet came out.She put on a sandy leopard fur coat.She herself is really like a fierce and dangerous leopard waiting for an opportunity.Her eyes gleamed with anger and viciousness. They found the scout in Coe's office.He politely asked Mi Lei to repeat what she had seen and heard. "It's an extraordinary story," Carreger said slowly, looking at the dancer through his pince-nez. "You mean, Mr. Kettering planned it beforehand?"

"Of course he planned it. He said his wife was too healthy to die unless there was an accident. He had made the necessary preparations." "Do you realize," said Carréger gravely, "that you are also guilty of helping a murderer?" "Am I guilty? Baseless. I didn't take him seriously. I know men, they always talk like that." The Scout frowned. "You take Mr. Kettering's threats as mere casual chatter? Permit me to ask you, what made you resign your post in London and decide to travel to the Riviera?" "I want to be with the man I love. Is there something incomprehensible about that?"

Poirot interjected cautiously: "You accompanied Mr. Kettering to Nizza with his consent?" Mi Lei felt that this question was very difficult.After thinking for a while, she proudly said: "I always go my own way in this kind of thing." All three men in the room realized that her answer was not real, but no one said anything. "When did you learn that Mr. Kettering had killed his wife?" "As I told you, I saw Kaitlyn leave his wife's box as the train was approaching Gare de Lyon. He was flustered and nervous. I had never seen that terrible expression on his face." I've seen it." Her voice was sharp and piercing, and she made a very sad gesture. "After that, when the train was leaving Lyon, I found Ms. Kettering dead, so I understood everything." "But you didn't report it to the police," reproached the police chief mildly. The dancing girl was now playing her usual part again. "Can I betray the one I love?" she asked. "No! You can't ask a woman to do that." "It can be done," Coe interjected. "Of course it's another matter now. He lied to me. Should I keep silent about it?" "We get it, we get it," the scout whispered reassuringly. "Now you can make some kind gestures, go over the transcript of your conversation, and sign your name." Without even looking at it, Mi Lei signed the record.She stood up. "My gentlemen, you don't need me anymore, do you?" "For now, please." "Will Derek be arrested?" "Arrest immediately." Mi Lei laughed and wrapped herself in her coat. "He should have thought of the consequences when he insulted me," she cried. "It's just a small problem..." Poirot coughed dryly, and said apologetically, "Yes, it's just a small problem." "Please tell me." "How did you conclude that Ms. Kettering was dead when the train left Lyons?" Miley stared at him. "But, she is dead." "Oh, she's dead?" "of course, I……" She swallowed the words.Poirot kept looking at her, and there was an element of uneasiness in her eyes which did not escape Poirot's discernment. "That's what I heard. It seems that someone said something to me. Who it is, I can't remember now." She goes to the door.Coe stood up to open the door for her, when Poirot's voice sounded again, as gentle and calm as ever. "But the gems? Excuse me, but can you tell us about the gems?" "Gem? What gem?" "It's the jewelry of Empress Katharina, because you have seen a lot, can you talk about it." "I don't know anything about gems." Mi Lei said with a straight face. She left the police office and closed the door behind her.The scout sighed. "She's a shrew! And she's as smart as a ghost. Is she telling the truth? It's not that I don't want to believe her." "There is some truth in the story she told," said Poirot. "Ms. Gray confirmed this. As the train approached Lyon, Ms. Gray saw Mr. Kettering leave his wife's box." "All the evidence of his crime is convincing," murmured the Chief Constable, adding with a sigh: "Unfortunately." "Why regret it?" asked Poirot. "Capturing Earl Roger is the goal of my life. This time I decided that I could capture him." Carrey pinched his nose. "Yes, yes, gems," said the chief of police. "How does the count explain those gems?" Poirot smiled. "I have my own ideas about gemstones. Tell me, gentlemen, do any of you know a gentleman with the nickname 'Marquis'?" The chief of police straightened his back. "The Marquis," said he, "the Marquis? Do you think he is involved in the case, M. Poirot?" "What do you know about him?" The police chief grimaced. "Not much. He works in the background, understand? Everyone else does the menial work for him. He's a real upper class man. He doesn't take his hand in ordinary cases." "French?" "Yes, at least we think he is a Frenchman. But not quite sure. He has committed crimes in France, England, and the United States. There have been several major burglaries in Switzerland last autumn, and it is speculated that he was responsible." Yes. Certainly a man of the landed class, who speaks French and English fluently, but where and what country he was born is not clear." Poirot nodded and rose to his feet. "Can't you tell us more, M. Poirot?" demanded the Director. "Not yet," said Poirot, "but perhaps in my hotel I shall have further information." It seems that Carrege is a little unhappy. "If, the Marquis is also involved in this case..." He didn't finish his sentence. "Then we'd have to overturn all thinking about the case," Ra complained. "I cannot be overthrown!" said Poirot. "Good-bye, gentlemen. I will let you know as soon as I have any further developments." He returned to his hotel with a straight face.While he was away, a telegram came.He read it twice, then stuffed the telegram into his pocket.Upstairs George was waiting for his master. "I'm tired, very tired, George. Could you get me a cup of coffee?" The coffee was brought and placed on the coffee table beside the sofa where Poirot was sitting.As the servant was leaving, Poirot said: "I believe, George, that you are well acquainted with the English aristocracy." George smiled obsequiously. "Yes, I can speak to Monsieur." "George, tell me, don't all criminals come from the lower classes?" "Not quite, sir. For example, I recall a story about a son of the Duke of Dewes who was always causing trouble in the family, but the police never believed him to be a kleptomaniac." Poirot nodded. "A troublesome eccentricity, or a little madness." He took the telegram out of his pocket and read it a third time. "And there's that thing about Mrs. Mary Fox's daughter," went on the servant. "It's a long story about how she scammed her suppliers all over the place. But it's always bad for the families involved. I can tell of many cases like that." "You are a very experienced man, George," said Poirot in a low voice. "It amazes me that you have lived so long in the great family, and yet you have not retained your high office, but come to me as a servant. You may have a eccentricity for good deeds, too?" "You can't say that, sir," whispered George. "Once I read a message in a palace newspaper, saying that you were summoned by His Majesty the King. The King was very warm to you and praised you for your extraordinary talents." "Oh, so it is," said Poirot. "It's nice to get to the bottom of everything." He thought for a moment and then asked: "Have you called Miss Papopolos?" "Of course, sir. Mr. and Miss Papopolos are delighted to be invited to dine with you this evening." "Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, took a sip of coffee, habitually put the cup in the middle of the tea table, and said in a mild and puzzled way, rather than speaking to the servants, he might as well say it to himself. "Do you know how squirrels collect walnuts, George. They always store them in the autumn to eat later. If a man wants to collect something, then George, don't think about his official position, just think about it." Just think about the habits of animals. I always do that. I'm a cat in front of a mouse hole, I'm a dog following with its head down, and I'm also a squirrel. I'll come here later to collect A little material, and I'll go there to collect some information. I'm going to find a walnut in my warehouse now, a walnut, please wait, George, I collected it seventeen years ago. Are you in Listen to me, George?" "I don't quite believe it, sir," said George, "how the walnuts have been preserved for so many years. But after all, under today's technical conditions..." Poirot looked at him and smiled mildly.