You take the four knaves, you divide them, one on top

of the pack, one underneath, and so on--you cut and

you shuffle, and there they are all together again. That is my object. So far I have been contending, now against one of the Big Four, now against another. But let me get them all together, like the four knaves in the pack of

cards, and then, with one coup, I destroy them all!"

"And how do you propose to get them all together?" I asked.

"By awaiting the supreme moment. By lying perdu until they are ready to strike."

"That may mean a long wait," I grumbled.

"Always impatient, the good Hastings! But no, it will not be so long. The one man they were afraid of--myself--is out of the way. I give them two or three months

at most."

His speaking of some one being got out of the way

THE BIG FOUR 195

reminded me of Ingles and his tragic death, and I

remembered that I had never told Poirot about the dying

Chinaman in St. Giles' Hospital.

He listened with keen attention to my story.

"Ingles' servant, eh? And the few words he uttered

were in Italian? Curious."

"That's why I suspected it might have been a plant on the part of the Big Four."

"Your reasoning is at fault, Hastings. Employ the

little gray cells. If your enemies wished to deceive you they would assuredly have seen to it that the Chinaman spoke in intelligible pigeon English. No, the message

was genuine. Tell me again all that you heard?"

"First of all he made a reference to Handel's Largo, and then he said something that sounded like 'carrozzo'--that's a carriage, isn't it?"

"Nothing else?"

"Well, just at the end he murmured something like

'Cara' somebody or other--some woman's name. Zia, I

think. But I don't suppose that that had any bearing on

the rest of it."

"You would not suppose so, Hastings. Cara Zia is

very important, very important indeed."

"I don't see--"

"My dear friend, you never see--and anyway the

English know no geography."

"Geography?" I cried. "What has geography got to do with it?"

"I dare say M. Thomas Cook would be more to the

point."

As usual, Poirot refused to say anything more--a

most irritating trick of his. But I noticed that his manner became extremely cheerful, as though he had scored

some point or other.

The days went on, pleasant if a trifle monotonous.

THE BIG FOUR 197

"For Italy, sir. As far as we can judge, they are both making for the resort you indicated--though how you

knew that--"

"Ah, that is not the cap with the feather for me! That was the work of Hastings here. He conceals his intelligence, you comprehend, but it is profound for all

that."

Harvey looked at me with due appreciation, and I felt

rather uncomfortable.

"All is in train, then," said Poirot. He was pale now, and completely serious. "The time has come. The arrangements are all made?"