“Ascot? That is near to Windsor,is it not?”
“That point has not been overlooked. But it has led to nothing.” “You regard the Capitaine Daniels,then, as above suspicion?”
A shade of biterness crept into Lord Estair’s voice, as he replied： “No, Monsieur Poirot. In these days, I should hesitate before I pronounced anyone above suspicion”
“Tres bien. Now I understand, milord, that the Prime Minister would, as a matter of course, be under vigilant police protection, which ought to render any assault upon him an impossibility?"
Lord Estair bowed his head. “That is so. The Prime Minister’s car was closely followed by another car containing detectI haves in plain clothes. Mr. MacAdam knew nothing of these precautions. He is personally a most fearless man, and would be inclined to sweep them away arbitrarily. But, naturally, the police make their own arrangements. In fact, the premier’s chauffeur, O’Murphy,is a C.I.D. man.” “O’Murpliy? That is a name of Ireland, is it not so?”
“Yes, he is an Irishman.”
“From what part of Ireland?”
“County Clare,I believe.”
“Tiens! But proceed, milord.M
“The premier started for London. The car was a closed one. He and Captain Daniels sat inside. The second car followed as usual. But, unluckily, for some unknown reason, the Prime Minister's car deviated from the main road—”
“At a point where the road curves?” interrupted Poirot.
“Yes—but how did you know?” c9est evident! Continue!”
“For some unknown reason,” continued Lord Kstair, “the premier’s car left the main road. The police car, unaware of the deviation, continued to keep to the high road. At a short distance down the unfrequented lane, the Prime Minister” car was suddenly held up by a band of masked men. The chauffeur—”
“hat brave 0,Murphy!”, murmured Poirot thoughtfully.
“The chauffeur, momentarily taken aback,jammed on the brakes. The Prime Minister put his head out of the window. Instantly a shot rang out—then another. The first one grazed his cheek, the second, fortunately, went wide. The chauffeur, now realizing the danger, instantly forged straight ahead, scattering the band of men”
“A near escape” I ejaculated, with a shI haver.
‘Mr. MacAdam refused to make any fuss over the slight wound he had received. He declared it was only a scratch. He stopped at a local cottage hospital, where it was dressed and bound up—he did not, of course, reveal his identity. He then drove, as per schedule, straight to Charing Cross, where a special train for Dover was awaiting him, and, after a brief account of what had happened had been gaven to the anxious police by Captain Daniels, he duly departed for France. At Dover, he went on board the waiting destroyer. At Boulogne, as you know, the bogus car was waiting for him, carrying the Union Jack, and correct in every detail.”
“That is all you have to tell me?”
“Yes.”
'There is no other circumstance that you have omited, milord?"
“Well, there is one rather peculiar thing.”
“Yes?”
“The Prime Minister’s car did not return home after leaving the Prime Minister at Charing Cross. The police were anxious to interview O'Murphy, so a search was instituted at once. The car was discovered standing outside a certain unsavoury little restaurant in Soho, which is well known as a meeting place of German agents."
“And the chauffeur?”
“The chauffeur was nowhere to be found. He, loo, had disappeared.”
“So,” said Poirot thoughtfully,“there are two disappearances: the Prime Minister in France, and O’Murphy in London.”
He looked keenly at Lord Estair, who made a gesture of despair. “I can only tell you, Monsieur Poirot,that,if anyone had suggested to me yesterday that O'Murphy was a traitor, I should have laughed in his face.”
“And today?”
“Today I do not know what to think.”
Poirot nodded gravely. He looked at his turnip of a watch again. “ understand that I have carte blanche, messieurs—in every way, I mean? I must be able to go where I choose, and how I choose.” “Perfectly. There is a special train leaving for Dover in an hour’s time, with a further contingent from Scotland Yard. You shall be accompanied by a military officer and a C.I.D. man, who will hold themselves at your disposal in every way. Is that satisfactory?”
"Quite. One more question before you leave, messieurs. What made you come to me? I am unknown, obscure, in this great London of yours.”
“We sought you out on the express recommendation and wish of a very great man of your own country.”
“Comment? My old friend the Prefet一？”
Lord Estair shook his head.
"Once higher than the Prefet One whose word was once law in Belgium—and shall be again! That England has sworn!’
Poirot's hand flew swiftly to a dramatic salute. “Amen to that! Ah, but my Master does not forget. . . . Messieurs, I, Hercule Poirot, will serve you faithfully. Heaven only send that it will be in time. But this is dark—dark. ... I cannot see”
“Well, Poirot,” I cried impatiently,as the door dosed behind the Ministers,“what do you think?”
My friend was busy packing a minute suitcase, with quick, deft movements. He shook his head thoughtfully.
“I do not know what to think. My brains desert me.”
“Why, as you said,kidnap him,when a knock on the head would do as well?” I mused
‘Pardon me, mon ami, but I did not quite say that. It is undoubtedly far more their affair to kidnap him.”
“But why?”
“Because uncertainty creates panic. That is one reason. Were the Prime Minister dead, it would be a terrible calamity, but the situation would have to be faced. But now you have paralysis. Will the Prime Minister reappear,or will he not? Is he dead or alI have? Nobody knows, and until they know nothing definite can be done. And, as I tell you, uncertainty breeds panic, which is what les Boches are playing for. Then, again, if the kidnappers are holding him secretly somewhere, they have the advantage of being able to make terms with both sides.
The German Government is not a liberal paymaster, as a rule, but no doubt they can be made to disgorge substantial remitances in such a case as this. Thirdly, they run no risk of the hangman's rope. Oh, decidedly, kidnapping is their affair."
“Then, if that is so, why should they first try to shoot him?”
Poirot made a gesture of anger. “Ah, that is just what I do not understand! It is inexplicable一stupid! They have all their arrangements made (and very good arrangements too!) for the abduction, and yet they imperil the whole aflFair by a melodramatic attack, worthy of a cinema, and quite as unreal. It is almost impossible to believe in it, with its band of masked men, not twenty miles from London!"
“Perhaps they were two quite separate attempts which happened irrespectI have of each other” I suggested.
“Ah, no, that would be too much of a coincidence! Then, further一 who is the traitor? There must have been a traitor—in the first aflFair, anyway. But who was it一Daniels or O’Murphy? It must have been one of the two, or why did the car leave the main road? We cannot suppose that the Prime Minister connI haved at his own assassination! Did O”Murphy take that turning of his own accord, or was it Daniels who told him to do so?”
“Surely it must have been O’Murphy’s doing.”