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VIII. The Kidnapped Prime Minister
Dodge.
“ThisisDetectiveBarnes,ofScotlandYard,andMajorNorman.Theywillholdthemselvesentirelyatyourdisposal.Goodlucktoyou.It’sabadbusiness,butI’venotgivenuphope.Mustbeoffnow.”AndtheMinisterstroderapidlyaway.
WechattedinadesultoryfashionwithMajorNorman.InthecentreofthelittlegroupofmenontheplatformIrecognizedalittleferret-facedfellowtalkingtoatall,fairman.HewasanoldacquaintanceofPoirot’s—Detective-InspectorJapp,supposedtobeoneofthesmartestofScotlandYard’sofficers.Hecameoverandgreetedmyfriendcheerfully.
“Iheardyouwereonthisjobtoo.Smartbitofwork.Sofarthey’vegotawaywiththegoodsallright.ButIcan’tbelievetheycankeephimhiddenlong.OurpeoplearegoingthroughFrancewithatoothcomb.SoaretheFrench.Ican’thelpfeelingit’sonlyamatterofhoursnow.”
“Thatis,ifhe’sstillalive,”remarkedthetalldetectivegloomily.
Japp’sfacefell.“Yes....ButsomehowI’vegotthefeelinghe’saliveallright.”
Poirotnodded.“Yes,yes;he’salive.Butcanhebefoundintime?I,likeyou,didnotbelievehecouldbehiddensolong.”
Thewhistleblew,andwealltroopedupintothePullmancar.Then,withaslow,unwillingjerk,thetraindrewoutofthestation.
Itwasacuriousjourney.TheScotlandYardmencrowdedtogether.MapsofNorthernFrancewerespreadout,andeagerforefingerstracedthelinesofroadsandvillages.Eachmanhadhisownpettheory.