Charles Kent

           HalfanhourlatersawPoirot,myself,andInspectorRaglaninthetrainonthewaytoLiverpool.Theinspectorwasclearlyveryexcited.

           "Wemaygetalineontheblackmailingpartofthebusiness,ifonnothingelse,"hedeclaredjubilantly."He’saroughcustomer,thisfellow,bywhatIheardoverthephone.Takesdope,too.Weoughttofinditeasytogetwhatwewantoutofhim.Iftherewastheshadowofamotive,nothing’smorelikelythanthathekilledMr.Ackroyd.Butinthatcase,whyisyoungPatonkeepingoutoftheway.Thewholething’samuddle–that’swhatitis.Bytheway,M.Poirot,youwerequiterightaboutthosefingerprints.TheywereMr.Ackroyd’sown.Ihadratherthesameideamyself,butIdismisseditashardlyfeasible."Ismiledtomyself.InspectorRaglanwassoveryplainlysavinghisface.

           "Asregardthisman,"saidPoirot,"heisnotyetarrested,eh?""No,detainedundersuspicion.""Andwhataccountdoeshegiveofhimself?""Preciouslittle,"saidtheinspector,withagrin."He’sawarybird,Igather.Alotofabuse,butverylittlemore."OnarrivalatLiverpoolIwassurpisedtofindthatPoirotwaswelcomedwithacclamation.SuperintendentHayes,whometus,hadworkedwithPoirotoversomecaselongago,andhadevidentlyanexaggeratedopinionofhispowers.

           "Nowwe’vegotM.Poirothereweshan’tbelong,"hesaidcheerfully."Ithoughtyou’dretired,moosior?""SoIhad,mygoodHayes,soIhad.