‘It doesn’t take us very far,’ said Kelsey.

He looked gloomily at Poirot.

‘There would seem,’ said Poirot, ‘(that is, if I have been informed correctly), one possibility. Julia Upjohn’s mother, I understand, recognized someone here on the first day of term. Someone whom she was surprised to see. From the context, it would seem likely that that someone was connected with foreign espionage. If Mrs Upjohn definitely points out Mademoiselle as the person she recognized, then I think we could proceed with some assurance.’

‘Easier said than done,’ said Kelsey. ‘We’ve been trying to get in contact with Mrs Upjohn, but the whole thing’s a headache! When the child said a bus, I thought she meant a proper coach tour, running to schedule, and a party all booked together. But that’s not it at all. Seems she’s just taking local buses to any place she happens to fancy! She’s not done it through Cook’s or a recognized travel agency. She’s all on her own, wandering about. What can you do with a woman like that? She might be anywhere. There’s a lot of Anatolia!’

‘It makes it difficult, yes,’ said Poirot.

‘Plenty of nice coach tours,’ said the Inspector in an injured voice. ‘All made easy for you—where you stop and what you see, and all-in fares so that you know exactly where you are.’

‘But clearly, that kind of travel does not appeal to Mrs Upjohn.’

‘And in the meantime, here we are,’ went on Kelsey. ‘Stuck! That Frenchwoman can walk out any moment she chooses. We’ve nothing on which we could hold her.’

Poirot shook his head.

‘She will not do that.’

‘You can’t be sure.’

‘I am sure. If you have committed murder, you do not want to do anything out of character, that may draw attention to you. Mademoiselle Blanche will remain here quietly until the end of the term.’

‘I hope you’re right.’

‘I am sure I am right. And remember, the person whom Mrs Upjohn saw, does not know that Mrs Upjohn saw her. The surprise when it comes will be complete.’

Kelsey sighed.

‘If that’s all we’ve got to go on—’

‘There are other things. Conversation, for instance.’

‘Conversation?’

‘It is very valuable, conversation. Sooner or later, if one has something to hide, one says too much.’

‘Gives oneself away?’ The Chief Constable sounded sceptical.

‘It is not quite so simple as that. One is guarded about the thing one is trying to hide. But often one says too much about other things. And there are other uses for conversation. There are the innocent people who know things, but are unaware of the importance of what they know. And that reminds me—’

He rose to his feet.

‘Excuse me, I pray. I must go and demand of Miss Bulstrode if there is someone here who can draw.’

‘Draw?’

‘Draw.’

‘Well,’ said Adam, as Poirot went out. ‘First girls’ knees, and now draughtsmanship! What next, I wonder?’

II

Miss Bulstrode answered Poirot’s questions without evincing any surprise.